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#AND IT MAKES SENSE! SHE MET HIM JUST AS HE WAS LIVING THROUGH AN EXPERIENCE SHE DID. OF BECOMING SPIDEY. AND RIGHT AFTER
itsbuckytm · 2 days
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The Couch / Dean Winchester
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summary: Dean and you had always harbored a fondness for each other, which became evident one night on Jody's couch when he found a way to express it during Jody's intervention at the dinner table.
ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors
xo'
Jody had extended an invitation for dinner to the three of you. What neither of the boys knew was that this casual gathering swiftly transformed into an intervention, with Claire and Alex joining in. As you observed them enjoying the meal, a sense of unease crept in, heightened when Jody broached the topic of protection. Suddenly, Sam, Dean, and you found yourselves choking on your food, taken aback. "Um, excuse me?" Dean was the first to break the tense silence.
"You heard correctly," Jody's expression bore the gravity that none of you dared to challenge. With precision, she redirected the conversation to how she had stumbled upon unsettling items in Alex's bag. While acknowledging the discomfort of confronting such matters, being a girl also meant being privy to them, and a part of you felt relief knowing that Alex and Claire had Jody for these discussions—a resource you lacked.
In reality, it was Dean who helped you lose your virginity. "Helped" was an understatement; even in your mid-twenties, the notion of waiting for marriage felt long overdue. The memory was vivid: in the dead of night, with Sam in a deep slumber in the other side of the living room. Sleep eluded you, and with Dean nearby due to staying at Jody's, the proximity intensified. Coupled with your nearing ovulation, it was evident your libido was peaking. You were undeniably aroused, yet with the boys constantly present, suppressing any gesture or moan became a challenge, particularly when Dean's eyes cracked open slightly.
Dean observed the entire scene discreetly. He noticed your arm beneath the covers, your hips shifting, and your breath growing heavier. What he didn't realize was that he too felt the same arousal stirring within him. His shaft hardened, and he couldn't resist the urge to grasp it, seeking gratification in the moment. It was then that your eyes met, hesitation lingering before you confessed to him that you had never experienced sex before. To Dean's delight, he vowed to ensure that the experience would be memorable not just for him, but for you as well. 
"Earth to Y/N," Claire's voice broke through your thoughts, prompting you to snap out of your reverie, cheeks flushing. A mischievous smirk played on Claire's lips as she continued, well aware of your distraction. "I think she was daydreaming," she teased, but you quickly shook off the implication, feeling Dean's gaze upon you. It was the same caring look he always gave, checking in to ensure your comfort, whether it was about speed or pace. Despite any imperfections in the method of 'protection,' Dean excelled at making you feel cherished. "You okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as his fingers lightly brushed your hand, offering a reassuring squeeze, to which you nodded in response.
"I'm sure she wasn't. Let's not deflect now. If we can't talk about it, maybe we shouldn't be doing it, right?" Your eyes widened at the question, inadvertently revealing your discomfort, while Dean nearly choked on his food again with a startled "What?" Despite not wanting to gross out Jody, he simply shrugged and glanced at you before continuing, "I mean..." Just as he was about to elaborate, Jody's eyes widened in realization, catching onto the unspoken understanding between the two of you. "Setting a good example!" she exclaimed, almost in a panic, prompting laughter from Alex, Claire, and Sam, who found the situation amusing. With Dean and you seated at the opposite end of the table, the awkwardness escalated. "And where was it?" Jody inquired, causing your muscles to tense as you recalled it took place right in this very house during one of Jody's trips. You nervously gulped, murmuring your answer while taking a sip of water, inadvertently prompting Jody to respond to the question herself. 
But what she didn’t know was that whoever you had spent the night, was seating just next to you. 
"On your couch..." Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, unaware that the lucky guy was actually present that evening. Despite her high expectations, she pressed on with another question. "Like a one-night stand? Or someone from work?" She almost seemed reluctant to hear the answer you were about to give. As if you were expecting to give one of those options to loosen her worry. Dean on the other, glanced at you a moment, signaling for you not to reveal it. Instead, he took the plunge and confessed. "Me."
First, Claire choked on her water, followed by Jody, their expressions a mix of uncertainty as she barely left her gaze at you. Especially from expressing you were in hope of waiting before marriage. But it was true. "It is true..." Your voice was soft, the kind of vulnerability that Dean cherished. It stirred something within him, turning him on immensely. He couldn't be prouder knowing that tonight, with that look on your face, you would be in for a delightful surprise.
"Well," Jody appeared somewhat taken aback once again, unsure of what to say next before redirecting her attention to Alex. "Please, for me. Don't follow their example, and for the love of god, don't end up on the couch either." There was a hint of obvious disapproval in her expression, eliciting chuckles from all of you as the conversation shifted back to hunting topics and other matters. 
As everyone retired for the night, despite the slightly abrupt end to dinner, you managed to finish the meal Jody had graciously offered. She had invited the three of you to spend another night at her house, recognizing the need for rest after a morning hunt that warranted a good night's sleep. However, Dean had other plans brewing in his mind.
As you slipped into your gown, Sam settled into an actual bed—the one Jody had made sure you and Dean would sleep on. Dean's smirk was unmistakable as his gaze lingered on you while you attended to your last-minute night routine in the guest bathroom. "You know," his voice was husky, unable to tear himself away from your presence, a habit he adored observing. "Oh, I know that look," now it was your turn to gaze at him, rolling your eyes in an attempt to feign innocence at his remark. "But what if Jody..."
He chuckled, drawing closer to you with his arm enveloping your waist. Despite the temptation to kiss you once more and fully express his feelings, to officially declare you as his, he resisted. "Shhh," his thumb gently traced your bottom lip as he met your gaze, then glanced towards the couch. "Alright, cowboy. But don't make me have to silence myself."
“Oh don’t worry, darlin’ I’ll make sure you don’t.”
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thelastharbinger · 9 months
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Tidbits of ATSV That I Enjoyed (Or Alternatively: Just Miles Being The Most Endearing Spidey Ever)
Miles patting The Spot's head after successfully webbing him (I don't see this as condescending, but rather him still engaging with the humanity of a villain like Spot) and ~very assertively~ telling/asking him not to escape.
"I'm like Robin Hood-if he gave to himself."
Miles' spidey senses going off when he arrives late to his dad's party because there's nothing more frightening than Brown parents when they're mad at you. Beware the chancla or correa!
O.k. So we all know there are different versions of the movie out there. You may already know that one of the slight differences is when Miles goes to save Inspector Singh. There's a version where you can hear Gwen's voice in the distant background yelling no! when she thinks Miles gets crushed under the rubble, and there's another where she's silent as she webs to him. Now, I have found ANOTHER version (online) where her shouting is even more at the forefront. She's practically screaming and sounds more desperate, (prolly because it's close to the same way her Peter Parker died so she's reliving trauma) and the fear in her voice is palpable. That one haunts me.
Jefferson trying to equate studying for his police exams to childbirth, which Rio quickly nips in the bud.
Ganke having a soccer poster of Son Heung Min, a famous Korean footballer who currently plays for the Premier League Tottenham Hotspur and is captain of the South Korean national team.
Miles having a Sashimi (his universe's version of Supreme, but I just like the idea that Miles loves eating sashimi. Like I know that kid has good taste in food) poster in his bedroom.
The fact that Miles kept in touch with Aunt May for long enough after the events of ITSV that he helps her move.
The Spot saying he was one of the more handsome scientists at Alchemax according to his colleagues.
Miles and Gwen having the same collectible toys, the only difference being that he keeps his in the box and she doesn't.
"Hey, don't try to wow me with big words, man," *in deep manly voice* "I do crosswords every day"- Miles after Spot points out Alchemax as "the crucible of our connection!"
Miles going, "This job is so dumb sometimes" after he tries to web Spot at the deli, but it goes through a hole and lands on his face.
"Nahhh, he seems more Dominican to me." Kinda want Miles to meet a native Dominican Spidey because that dynamic would highkey fuck hard *pun not intended*. They would repair relations between our two islands-PR&DR.
"Almost there Mami *smiley face* *cowboy* prayer hands*"
The college admissions coach at Visions Academy straight up saying, "That's your story! Now, just stick to the script..." Ma'am what???
"Calmate Mami, eso no es my fault."
"I've hit a lot of different villains with a lot of different food...I'm just trying to lighten the mood."
Miles in his angsty teen era and smart-mouthing everyone around him. Love that for him.
"He almost killed his mom as a baby, I mean, look at those shoulders." No but for real tho. Those shoulders are as wide as a truck. Kim Seokjin who??? (if you understood that reference, ily).
Miles writing a love letter to his dad in 2 cakes.
Gwen at the water tower chowing and saying how feelings make her hungry after her and Miles talked about how they can't be together cause it would end in tragedy. Like Gwen, come again?!
Also, Miles' and Gwen's talk at the Williamsburg Bank Building being lowkey the catalyst for the 2nd/3rd acts of the film. Without them both kind of silently admitting their feelings for each other, Miles probably wouldn't have chased after her the way he did. Pretty sure you know the rest.
"I bet she doesn't even speak Spanish," and Jeff going "Que barbaridad" in his very broken Spanish. Queue Rio's bombastic side eye.
Both Gwen and Miles referring to Spot as a Villain Of The Week, even though neither of them have spoken about Spot to each other.
"I was bitten by a-wouldnt you like to know? Know what I mean?" SIR. Chill. This movie is for children.
The Spot inverting himself, going from a white mass with black spots to a gaping black hole with smaller white spirals. It's giving Junji Ito.
The irony of Pavitr exclaiming, "Well that was another easy adventure for Spider-Man!" right before an incoming canon event. HIS. He was about to experience his first big loss, and his happy-go-lucky nature would've been challenged.
Miguel saying conyo! when all the Spideys start pointing at each other.
"!Cállate!" "Nosy!" Sidebar: we don't talk about Gwen's banter with bad guys enough. She's so funny!
A lot of the Peters saying hi to Gwen as she passes HQ because she is canonically the one lost love--the love interest they all would've ended up with had she not died, so they all have an affection for her.
Web-Slinger going "Giddy up!" Cause he's swinging up.
Miles offering his fresh new takes on how to deal with the Spot upon meeting Miguel, saying "He just wants to be taken seriously. Like we all do." MILES YOU BEAUTIFUL, COMPASSIONATE GOLDEN SUNFLOWER BOY I LOVE YOUUUUU.
Hobie referring to Peter B. as Humbling Reality Spider-Man, which considering how steeped in tragedy the Spidey lore is, is really saying something.
Miguel's nonono no puedo más no puedo más. His misery is very funny and delightful to me. Little bitch ass.
"You know you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny." Yes! More Miguel slander in the next one, please! Little bitch ass.
"Snitch!"
Miles shouting out Peter's name for help whilst Miguel pins and lays into him the fact that he's an anomaly. This after he momentarily glitches back to his ITSV store-bought suit. Mimicking the way-in also the first movie-Miles shouting out Peter's name for his own rescue as Doc Ock attacks him at the research facility. Because even though he feels hurt by Peter at this point, that's still his dad mentor and he still instinctively looks to him for protection. Rip my heart out why don't you!
Gwen sneaking back into her and her dad's place just to get that printed polaroid of her and Miles, a pic she already has on her phone.
Earth-42 Miles wearing Nike while our Miles wears Jordans.
#hi. ive seen this movie 8x in theaters and twice on pirating sites. i am unwell#also sorry not sorry for the miguel slander. i am a miles loyalist thru and thru thst bitch is on thin ice#but also literally can't get over gwen “it really is so nice to get to talk to you. me & him its different. in every other universe...stacy#cause directly underneath that she's actually saying. “i missed you. and what i have with you i literally do not have with anyone else and.#you dont know this but ive met hundreds and thousands of spiderpeople. nd even in my friendship with hobie its not like what i have with yo#and im actually really smitten with you. the one person i shouldn't be smitten with bc there is no happy ending for us. and idk...#if i should hold off. and im letting you know all this so that you can decide for me. whether to take that lesp of faith or not with you. &#hope that say yes and make the first move so that i cant but help to just sink into you.“#AND IT MAKES SENSE! SHE MET HIM JUST AS HE WAS LIVING THROUGH AN EXPERIENCE SHE DID. OF BECOMING SPIDEY. AND RIGHT AFTER#SUFFERING THE GREATEST TRAGEDY OF HER LIFE WHICH SHE WAS ABOUT TO BEAR WITNESS THRU WITH HIM. SHE WAS THERE FOR HIS UNCLE DYING AND WATCHED#HIM BECOME SPIDERMAN. WE FORGET THAT THEY ACTUALLY WENT THRU SOME HEAVY THINGS TOGETHER. THEYRE TRAUMABONDED. I KNOW THATS NOT WHAT THAT WO#ACTUALLY MEANS. BUT IT MAKES SENSE THAT SHE CAN ONLY TALK TO MILES BC THEY PERFECTLY UNDERSTAND EO.#anyways idk why im shouting. im high rn. but crazy how all of that meaning was subtly thrown in there. like we got a confession scene folks#from gwen of all people! i love that for me.#also back to miguel: so i know he's hot. but if a hot person were to ever be rude to a waiter we agree theyre no longer hot right? right.#atsv#miles morales#itsv#miguel o'hara#the spot#ghostflower#gwiles#gwen stacy#ghost spider#gwen x miles#rio morales#across the spider verse#into the spider verse
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too-deviant · 1 month
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jackie and wilson.
previous | next masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile
word count: 5.3k
content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from
notes: this is so cute i love them.
PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair
Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry. 
You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context. 
Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast. 
“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them. 
You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”
“What’s up, Travis?”
He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.” 
He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?” 
You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea. 
Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?” 
“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.” 
“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”
Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit. 
“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.” 
“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.” 
“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut. 
The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.” 
You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you. 
To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much. 
You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you. 
Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands. 
“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?” 
Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”
“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“
“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand. 
“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed. 
“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.” 
You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted. 
You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill. 
“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”
He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage. 
They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke. 
You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love. 
You grinned, “JoJo.”
Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face. 
You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement. 
“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?” 
“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”
“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”
“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”
He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no. 
“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”
“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”
“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”
“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”
You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball. 
Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow. 
“Really?”
“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?” 
“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”
“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”
“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”
You didn’t know. 
“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”
You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you. 
He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”
You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?” 
“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.” 
Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve. 
Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average. 
Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help. 
All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course. 
“I can’t find it.”
“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly. 
“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”
“Oh, and you expect us to?” 
And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side. 
“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”
“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.” 
You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.” 
He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”
“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”
As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front. 
He stopped laughing. You started laughing. 
“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?” 
You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath. 
You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”
He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”
Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.   
Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come. 
“Hey!” 
You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips. 
“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”
“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”
The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.” 
Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”
She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”
You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter. 
“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?” 
“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”
Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn. 
You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure. 
He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest. 
He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”
“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t. 
“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging. 
“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”
A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”
You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?” 
You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”
That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness. 
Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure. 
“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.” 
Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”
“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”
“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.” 
“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!” 
He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them? 
“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”
“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”
Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.” 
It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did. 
But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.  
You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”
You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”
“You’re from Vermont.” 
Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.” 
He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!” 
“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?” 
“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”
“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.” 
“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”
“You fought a dragon.” 
“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”
“You’re not funny.”
“And yet you’re laughing.”
“I am not.”
“You are.” 
“I’m not!” 
____________
“What’d you do to him?” 
You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?” 
“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?” 
“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”
He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment. 
“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”
A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”
“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”
That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?” 
Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”
Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly. 
You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.” 
Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”
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octoberclidan · 16 days
Text
Stolen Glances
Request: Can you write a smut story with dean in it I was hoping a friends to lovers sort of thing
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Masterlist
Note: this is 18+ only. Do not read this if you're under 18.
Story:
Glances. That's all she could get of him. She watched from the passenger seat of the Impala while the sun and the wind worked together to scatter highlights through his hair, and she listened as he sang along to his tape as if there was no one in the car with him. She smiled as she watched him enjoy the drive, no monsters to hunt down, no angels or demons after them, just a drive to get supplies for the bunker. He'd come to her room in the early afternoon to see if she wanted to come with him, and she never said no to spending more time with him, to catch more glances, to see small glimpses into what her life would be like if he was hers. He looked over to her after the song ended and she quickly looked away, not wanting to he caught stealing her glances.
"Think they'll have pie?" He asked and she looked back at him, rolling her eyes and laughing.
"Remember how you threatened the poor guy last time they had none? I think they order in twice as many now just in case you come in looking for it".
"Hey, don't bring up bad memories", he gave her a fake glare before looking back out at the road, and he smiled when he heard her quietly giggle to herself.
"Sorry, I forgot how traumatic that experience was for you".
"Worst thing that ever happened to me", he smiled while shaking his head. Although he was joking, [Y/N] sometimes wondered if being disappointed by a store being out of pie was somewhere up there with all of his other traumatic experiences in his head.
"Well, if they don't have pie then we can get the ingredients and I'll make one for you".
"Are you trying to get in my pants? 'Cause that'd do it", he grinned, glancing over for a second to admire the blush he'd created on her cheeks.
"Just drive", she couldn't help but smile, turning her head to look out of the window, hiding how easy it was for Dean to get her flustered. No one had ever given her butterflies with just a smile. Especially not a cocky smile. Then came Dean Winchester, so naturally confident, more attractive than any man she'd ever met. Just one wink from him and her heart would skip a beat, just one gentle brush of his hand against hers and she lost all sense of herself. She could keep her heartbeat and breathing steady when she was in hand-to-hand combat with any monster or demon, but one stolen glance at Dean and she couldn't control it. She didn't know if it was just a crush that she hadn't been able to get over, or if she was actually in love with him. She knew she loved him in some sense, she loved Sam and Cas too, but her feelings for Dean ran much deeper than familial love. She was hesitant to put a label on it though, and she'd never tell him.
Dean pulled into a parking space right in front of the store, and he led the way in, [Y/N] following behind him. "You wanna go grab the toilet paper? I'll get the food", Dean asked and [Y/N] nodded, and the two went their separate ways. She wandered down the aisle where she knew she'd find the toilet paper, but stopped when something caught her eye. Condoms. She couldn't remember the last time she'd needed them, she wasn't into casual sex with strangers like she knew Dean was, or even Sam was on occasion. Living in a bunker and spending most of her time either inside it, or across the country on a case with the boys, didn't really give her much time to build a relationship with anyone other than the boys. She often visited the local bar with Sam and Dean, and she never really liked the lonely trip back to the bunker on the occasion that they both found someone else to go home with. She had been feeling more and more in the mood for it recently though. Her fingers and her imagination, mostly occupied by thoughts of Dean, just weren't cutting it anymore. She wanted to find a man, but she'd been holding herself back, always finding excuses. She figured that maybe if she bought a pack of condoms and kept one in her purse, she'd be giving herself one less excuse to leave their bar alone.
She quickly grabbed a packet and made her way to the toilet paper, grabbing a few other toiletries on the way to hide the condoms. The last thing she wanted was for Dean to see them, raise his eyebrow at her, and make some smart comment on them. She knew she'd probably burn her cheeks with the embarrassment if that happened. She made her way to the checkout and paid for her stuff before heading outside to wait for Dean. She shoved the condoms into her jacket pocket while she held the rest of her things in a bag, waiting by the car for him to come out. In hindsight, she should've taken the keys from Dean so she could sit in the car, she knew he'd take longer if he was the one shopping for food. The air was warm, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the light breeze in her hair.
"Hey Sweetheart", Dean's voice caught her attention, and she opened her eyes to see him walking towards her, his hands full with bags. She could see a familiar box of pie peaking out of the top of one, and she almost felt disappointed. She wondered if she'd had to make one for him, if it would give him a reason to like her more.
"Hey", she smiled, pushing off the car. "They had pie?"
"Yup", Dean chuckled. "Dude scrambled to go get it when he saw me, I didn't even have to say anything".
"I'm telling you, he's terrified", she laughed and Dean shrugged sheepishly at her.
"Hey, could you grab the keys? They're in my pocket", Dean turned to his side and nodded down at his pocket. She nodded and reached into his jacket pocket with her free hand, but Dean cleared his throat when she found his pocket was empty. Looking up at him in confusion, she noticed a light blush across his nose. "Uh, sorry, I meant my jeans".
"Oh", she said, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. "Right". She took her hand out of his jacket pocket and reached into his jeans pocket, quickly pulling out the keys and unlocking the car. They set their bags down before she silently handed Dean the keys and they got into the car. As soon as the engine was turned on, Dean turned on the music, neither of them making eye contact. She didn't know why it was so awkward, they'd been a lot closer to each other than having a hand in the other's pocket. She'd cleaned and stitched up wounds on his chest, stomach, and back. He'd cleaned and stitched up wounds on her shoulders, thighs, and sides, and it was never awkward.
About halfway back to the bunker, [Y/N] finally stole a glance over at Dean. The sun was starting to set, filling the Impala with a warm orange glow, and it hit Dean's face perfectly. They were coming up to a turn in the road when Dean looked in her direction, meaning to look out her window but catching her staring at him instead. When their eyes met, she jumped slightly and turned to look out the front of the car instead, but she looked back when she heard Dean chuckle. "What?" She asked, and he smirked before nodding down at the space between them, then looking back out onto the road. She looked down and immediately her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Her box of condoms had slipped out of her pocket and were now sitting beside her, fully visible to Dean.
"You seeing someone?" He asked as she quickly stuffed them back into her pocket.
"No", she shook her head, looking out the passenger window, not wanting to catch his eye.
"You planning to?" He asked, glancing over at her. She thought he sounded worried. She looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"Maybe? Why does it matter to you?"
He shrugged as he looked back out the window. "Just think that if you're planning on going home with some guy, then Sam or I should know where you are. You know, for safety".
She scoffed and shook her head. "You don't tell me where you go when you find someone to hook up with. You think I can't look out for myself?"
"No, I do", he said, clearing his throat. "I just didn't know you were into that kind of thing".
"I'm not", she said quietly. Talking about one night stands, or sex in general, while alone with Dean was something she'd managed to avoid so far. She couldn't help but notice that he kept glancing at her as he drove. He quickly looked at her pocket, then back to the road, then to her eyes, then back to the road, then to her chest, then back to the road, then to her lips, then back to the road. It was making her feel a little self conscious, but it was also making her feel warm inside. After a few moments of silence, Dean cleared his throat again.
"So uh, if you're not into it, what's with the condoms?"
"Why are you suddenly so interested in my purchases?" Her cheeks warmed again as she saw his neck turn pink. Why did he look nervous? This was Dean, he didn't get nervous that easily.
"I'm not", he said, and she turned away from him again.
She sighed, contemplating whether it would be more or less awkward to continue the conversation. She didn't want things to be awkward between them later, so she figured it would be best just to get it out of the way now. "It's just... been awhile for me. I'm not into one night stands, but I also have needs, and desires, you know?" She asked, and Dean swallowed, nodding, but kept his eyes on the road. "So I figured, next time I'm at the bar, I'll give myself as few excuses for rejecting a guy as possible".
"Oh", he nodded. He stole another glance before muttering a "fuck this" and pulled over onto the side of the road.
"What are you doing?" She asked in confusion, and Dean turned to fully face her. She noticed that his eyes seemed darker than usual, and his chest showed he was breathing heavily.
"I can't concentrate on driving, I can't concentrate while thinking about you being prepared to go home with some guy, while thinking about you having needs and desires. Fuck [Y/N], do you even realise how hot you are?"
Now she was swallowing nervously. No man had ever looked at her quite like how Dean was looking at her, nothing but desire on his face as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, like he was finding it difficult to restrain himself. She blinked at him, completely speechless, waiting to wake up in her bed. Never in a million years would she ever have thought Dean would look at her like that, that he'd want her like that. Yet, here he was, waiting for her to say something, to give him permission. She glanced down at his lips as he licked them, and she couldn't help herself, she shuffled closer to him, sliding along the front bench. He lifted his arm up and onto the back bench behind her, and took his other hand off the steering wheel and grabbed her thigh, pulling a gasp from her as he angled her to face him. He left his hand on her thigh as he stared down at her, so close she could feel his breath on her face.
They glanced at each other's lips as they leaned in towards one another, finally closing their eyes as their lips touched. Dean almost immediately pushed his tongue into her mouth as he gripped her thigh tighter, and she moaned as his other hand slipped off the bench and into her hair. She slid her hands up his chest, leaving one there feeling his heart beating quickly as her other hand continued up to his face, feeling his stubble under her finger tips. Neither of them cared that they were on the side of the road as Dean's hand left her thigh and slid up under her shirt, his thumb just below her bra and his fingers gripping her side. She giggled as she pulled away from him, looking up and smiling. "That tickles".
He smiled at her as he leaned down for another kiss, pushing her down onto the bench and leaning his elbows either side of her. He pressed himself on top of her and she moaned as he ground against her. He left her lips and kissed along her jaw down to her neck before pushing his hand inside her jacket, pulling it off and letting it fall to floor of the car. He pushed his hand back up her top, feeling her body. "Dean", she whispered. He pecked at her neck once more before pushing himself up to look at her properly.
"Yeah Sweetheart?" He had that smirk on his face, the one she was all too familiar with, the one that made her imagine all sorts of scenarios with him.
"You're wearing too many clothes".
He chuckled before looking up over her head, out the passenger window. Luckily it was a quiet road, there didn't seem to be many people about. "Wanna get in the back? There's more space". He watched her blush as he spoke. "I mean, if you wanna keep going that is".
"Well", she bit her lip as she reached up cup his cheek. "I am prepared and everything".
He grinned as he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her up, reaching over her to open her door. She laughed at how excited he seemed, his smile making him look like he didn't have a care in the world, like this moment between them was the only thing in existence. He grabbed the condoms out of her discarded jacket, and they quickly got out of the car. Dean used the time to shed his own jacket before they slid into the back seat. Dean immediately grabbed [Y/N] and pulled her onto his lap, making her stradle him. He moaned as she leaned into him, feeling a hardness beneath his jeans. She began kissing at his jawline and neck as his hands found their way back up her top, his thumbs pushing up just under the cups of her bra, his fingers spread around her sides. Dean had large hands, and they made her feel small in his grasp.
"Fuck, that feels good", he groaned as she kissed just below his ear, his skin hot on her lips. "Can I take this off?" He asked, sliding his hands back down and tugging at the hem of her top. She leaned back slightly and nodded, and he grinned as he pulled it up and over her head, tossing it over the bench into the front of the car. "And this?" He asked, his hand running along the shoulder strap of her bra. She nodded again, this time a bit shyly, as he reached around to undo the clasp. Her bra fell away from her chest and he helped her slide the the staps down her arms. "Better than I imagined", he chuckled as he grabbed a breast in each hand, his thumbs flicking over both nipples.
"Imagined?" She asked, her fingers now toying with the hem of his t-shirt.
"Every day", he mumbled, completely distracted by the sight in front of him. "So many quick glances, not enough time to properly look", he said as his hand ran down her side, making her shiver, "and feel", he added.
She started to pull his shirt up and he complained when he had to take his hands off her to get it off, but as soon as it was on the floor, his lips were on hers in an instant. His tongue pushed into her mouth and he breathed heavily through his nose as she trailed her fingers over his stomach and up across his chest to his shoulders. She was taking her time with really feeling just how solid he was, how much muscle had had, how strong he felt under her. Her hands finally found their way back down to his belt, and she quickly unbuckled it. Getting the idea, Dean turned to his side and lay her down on the seat, leaning back to kick off his shoes and push his jeans off. She stared at him and the bulge in his boxers, the little wet patch from his arousal making itself apparent.
She reached down to unbutton her own jeans when his hands landed on hers. "Let me", his tone sounded almost like a plea as he waited for her to say yes, but she was lost in his appearance. Dean Winchester, stripped down to his boxers, a lights sweat on his body, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly swollen, all because of her. Dean Winchester was looking at her like he'd never seen anything he wanted more. "Hey", he said, leaning over to cup her cheek. "Are you okay? Is this... this is still okay, right?" He asked, and she blinked, swallowing back her amazement and nodding.
"Yes", she said. "God yes, this is okay. I just got lost there for a second... do you even realise how sexy you are? Fuck Dean, look at you". He blushed and looked away from her, concentrating on her jeans again. Once they were undone, he pulled them down her legs, pulling her shoes off as he did so. Once she was left in just her panties, he leaned down to kiss her thighs, but looked up to her to catch her eyes as he did. He started to kiss higher up her legs, skipping over her underwear and kissing just below her belly button. She ran her fingers through his hair as she looked down at him, nervous but excited to watch him explore her body with his mouth.
He pecked her once more before hooking his finger into her panties and pulling them to the side, completely exposing her to him. He groaned as he leaned down, closing his eyes and licking up through her wetness. When he started to circle his tongue around her clit, she immediately clamped her thighs around his head, and gripped his hair tighter in her hand, surprised by how intense the pleasure was. "Fuck... sorry", she breathed out, relaxing her hold on him.
He chuckled and shook his head. "Do whatever you need, I'm into it", he kissed the inside of her thigh before focusing his attention back on her clit, now watching her reaction as he stroked a finger over her entrance. When she bucked her hips towards him, her inserted his finger, smiling to himself as she moaned. He continued to lick and such as he pushed another finger in, pumping in and out.
"Dean, stop, I'm close and I want us to cum together", she said through gritted teeth. He pulled away from her and raised his eyebrows.
"You sure? I can give you more than one".
"No", she shook her head, trying to calm herself. "The first one, I want it to be together".
He smiled at her as he nodded. She was completely lost in the moment, nothing else mattered other than the fact that Dean Winchester wanted to have sex with her in the back of his car, and it was about to happen. She watched with wide eyes as he pushed his boxers down, his cock fully erect, a bead of precum sitting on top. She licked her lips, she hoped they'd find themselves in a similar situation in the future where she could focus all of her attention on that, but right now she wanted him inside her. Dean grabbed the little box of condoms and pulled one out, splitting the wrapper open and pulling the rubber out. She fumbled with getting her panties off as she watched him expertly roll it onto himself.
"You ready?" He asked as he crawled on top of her, and she smiled up at him.
"Yes, I want to feel you", she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He positioned himself between her legs and slowly pushed in, holding his breath until he was as far as he could get. He let out a slightly shaky breath as he maneuvered slightly, caging her in between his arms.
"You feel so good", he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lips. He drew out of her slowly, just leaving the head inside, before thrusting back in. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tight as he set a steady pace. He kissed her lips, cheeks, jaw, and neck as he continued, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Their breathing got heavier the closer they got, and the kisses got sloppy as they both moaned and groaned and gasped at every spike in pleasure.
When Dean felt her tighten around him, it pushed him over the edge, and just like she wanted, they came together. After a moment of catching their breaths, Dean kissed [Y/N]'s lips and pulled out. He discarded the condom and then grabbed [Y/N]'s waist, spinning them so he was lying down on his back with her on top of him. She snuggled into his chest and wrapped her arms around him, and he kissed her hairline and started to stroke up and down her back. "I never thought that would happen", she said quietly, and Dean sighed in content.
"I'm glad it did", he said. "And I hope it will happen again?"
She lifted her head to look at him, and leaned in for a quick kiss. "It's definitely happening again". They both grinned at each other before they went back to cuddling. They knew there would be no more stolen glances, they could just take as many as they liked.
The end
Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic @dramatic-long-coats @kr804573 @cutiesarah
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sugoi-writes · 1 month
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Alastor x Reader - First Time, First Deal
A/N: Let me preface this with: yes, I am aware that Alastor is ace (and likely aroace). This is simply a work of fiction and nothing more! I tried keeping things pretty tame for the most part, but there's an opportunity for spice later down the road, should anyone enjoy this.
The reader uses she/her pronouns. The reader is a sinner whose body is essentially a ghost that changes/become corporal at times. Reader is EXTREMELY touch starved. (And let's be honest, aren't we all?) This part is fluffy and sickeningly sweet, with room for angst and smut down the road... so please enjoy my newfound brainrot~
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Your time spent with the Hazbin Hotel had been progressing more positively than you hoped. Being a demon with a semi corporal body came with ups and downs... namely, that you had a hard time controlling your body's functions.
During bouts of anger or sadness, your body would change. You'd usually becoming hard, jagged, and brutal, or, one that you feared most: you became completely invisible. The only person who seemed to understand appeared to be Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. Despite being a reserved, somewhat distant person... he seemed to either understand or take pity on your situation.
You felt confident in his companionship, moreso as your sleepless nights crept upon you. You had all but sobbed in his private quarters, lamenting how touch starved you were. How the only time you've felt the touch of another being was during fits of rage or in conflict. When defending the hotel, you typically get pretty banged up and bruised. The sensations you did experience were never good... and you longed for something that felt right. Something that felt REAL and gentle.
Alastor seemed more than sympathetic, and would listen and even humor you. When your world was crumbling in, he always managed to make you smile and laugh... And the bond between the two of you festered, before erupting to an untamable flame.... at least, you knew it did for you.
When you were close to him, you found your body's hues changing... bright, soft pinks would flood your visage, especially in your face. Angel Dust would tease you especially hard, causing flecks of green and red to appear: annoyance, anger.... No matter your emotions and despite your best attempts, they were always on your sleeve.
One night in particular, you were having a very difficult time. You had thought back to your life in the human realm, to living on Earth... You had shared many things with others. Touch, kisses, and... more intimate gestures. You could imagine the sensations, but never experience them on your own. No, you would need someone that you TRULY trusted to help you... someone whose touch would be as rare as your predicament. Someone who wouldn't taint that touch with ulterior motives. Someone who wouldn't take advantage of your vulnerable state the second your walls caved in.
You had thought to ask Angel initially, but didn't want it to appear that you were using a sex worker only for his body... you had considered other sinners you met along the way, many of which who had left the hotel.
But there was one constant that crossed your mind: Alastor.
And with that, against your better judgment, you rapped quietly against his oak door. You were sheepish, hoping that he would be asleep, or too busy to answer. Hues of purple swirled through your body, as you felt your shape ebb and flow... the parts that felt real, the ones you could sense... they were soft, and just as pliable as your mind.
But you had no time to linger as the door to the Radio Demon's chambers creaked open. You fumbled with your appearance as Alastor's eyes and grin fell upon you, a singular brow raised.
"My Dear, it's quite late in the evening... are you troubled? Struggling to sleep again?" Alastor opened the door entirely, allowing you to enter. You nod, before nervously walking past the threshold. No going back now, you thought.
"I-- I know, Alastor. I hate bugging you so late at night, but-- you're the only person who can help me with my-- issue." Hues of hot pink swirled within you as Alastor gingerly closed his door, his head cocking to the side.
" Would you like to have tea with me, then? Perhaps something warm could help ease your--"
"Warmer than that," you practically yelped, your hands flying to mouth to cover it. You sigh, as your colors fluctuated again, your body acting as a kaleidoscope for Alastor to observe.
"I... i only ask of you because, well-- I feel like you would handle this... respectfully. Delicately." Alastor continues to grow more interested, the light emitting from you dancing about his chambers.
"Well, trying not to assume what you may need me for, I am flattered that you considered me for the task. I can assure you, a gentleman will always take the qualms of the fairer means seriously... Discreetly, if need arises."
Alastor's grin grows, a familiar glow reaching his wide eyes," Now then... what dea--.... arrangement... have you come to propose?"
You turn to face Alastor, your face warm as you spew your feelings at him, deep from your core. Your colors flash, swirling and colliding with each other haphazardly as you speak. At first, Alastor is intrigued, then appalled, and the more that you spill... the more his mind shifts. He can clearly see you weren't here for some petty favor, or a sinner's gambit... You were here for something more earnest than that. He should have known better than that, regarding you... You, the sinner who didn't deserve to be trapped here in Hell.
"I want-- I just want my first time in Hell to be with someone I can trust. In fact, it's only possible IF I can trust that person," you quickly added, advancing a few paces towards him.
For the first time since you've entered, you're silent. You don't make a sound as Alastor struggles to form a response. His eyes seem a little hazy, lost... You've stupefied him into speechlessness.
You sigh, your colors becoming more uniform, softer... you begin to shed the night gown that you managed to keep on this entire time (With your embarrassing predicament? It was RATHER impressive).
As it fell to the floor, Alastor's bewildered eyes were able to take in your full form... how the colors hugged and accentuated your form... how your hair bellowed behind you... how soft your face had become. For a moment, he swore he wasn't standing before his friend, but an angel from on High.
"Please... I know--- i know this is a lot to ask of you. But I can't spend an eternity of torment like this-- not when I have the option of seeing if it's possible. I NEED to know if its possible to be with someone like this."
Your attempts in this endeavor have been fruitless in the past, yet somehow: you were hopeful that this would be different. You were hopeful that Alastor would be different.
Alastor's smile softened, as he adjusted himself. She wasn't coming to him as a desperate harlot, nor some heated lover, he thought... she sought him without any sort of carnal threat. This sinner came to him as a friend.
This emotion made his core swell and seize simultaneously, his emotions conflicted. He had little to no desires of the flesh anymore, nor did he ever desire you past a platonic companionship... but here he was: feeling something. Something that he hadnt felt in such a long time.
He cleared his throat, before loosening his tie. You swallowed shallowly as it was taken off and tossed to the floor. Alastor approached your slowly, his mask still plastered to his face, though shakily.
"Let's make a deal, then...," Alastor speaks softly, the normal filter on his voice all but silenced. He reached out a hand, cautiously approaching your cheek.
"I will agree to see this event to a proper conclusion... whatever you'd like me to do, or try... I will earnestly do so until you're satisfied. In exchange..."
You felt your throat swell shut, as if you were being strangled. You could hardly see straight as Alastor came so close to you. You gasped when Alastor's hand finally made contact with the swell of your cheek, a thumb running over it tenderly. You sighed into the feeling, your face flushing a deep pink as you leaned into it. Yes, yes... this was EXACTLY what you needed!
"In exchange," he repeated," You will never let anyone else touch you like this: ever."
Your eyes shoot open, startled by the forwardness of the deal. You could hardly speak as you felt another hand come to rest on your hip, squeezing earnestly.
Alastor's smile seemed to shine more vividly due to the light you emmited, but it was... soft. It appeared genuine. A smile that was new to you. If Alastor had ulterior motives, you could not sense them at all...
You stammered over your words, perplexed," I-- I hadn't know that you-- that you had--"
Alastor chuckles, pulling you closer," Dear, call me a product of my time... but I don't believe in boughts of one-night passions. I don't believe in swingers or flings... if my mother taught me anything, she taught me that courting takes time. That it should be shared between two people, and two people alone."
You felt his hand reach for yours, before bringing it to his lips. Your eyelids fluttered as he began kissing your knuckles, one by one.
"You are the one I've been wanting to court; the only one that I plan to. And... it seems like it has been successful, thus far." A slight stretch of the truth, but one that Alastor knew you wouldn't be able to see through.
You were still reeling at your revelation as you were gently pushed backwards, landing on the edge of Alastor's bed. Your breathing picked up as Alastor knelt before you between your legs, his eyes level with yours.
"So... will you allow me to continue?"
You practically sighed out your answer, your head feeling hazy as your body practically sung for him to start," O-Of course.... please, make me yours, Alastor."
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bloodycassian · 8 days
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Reborn - Reader x Azriel. AN - thank you anon for this great prompt!
Requested - I don't know if your requests are open but I wanted to throw something in just in case.
An Azriel x reader, where AZ and reader have never met before, reader has been tortured and experimented on by the court of nightmares ( Keir ) she could be a shadowsinger, and they're mates, when the reader is in the verge of death for refusing to work with Keir, AZ feels it and begins to grow hectic without knowing the reason,  everyone in the inner court is confused until elain comes out of nowhere and tells everyone that his mate is in danger. ( Vision )
I have this on the back of my mind since reading some of your amazing work and couldn't stop thinking about it.
No amount of masturbation, drinking, or sparring helps the agitation under Azriel’s skin. It’s a constant, burning, itching thing that’s like a fucking disease upon his being. 
Sleep is his only relief, but even then he’s plagued with pain and darkness. It reminds him too much of the dank basement he’d been forced into when he was young, so he stays up. He’s exhausted and brooding and quick to snap at anyone who questions him. He knows he’s being a dick but according to the five healers he’d seen, there was nothing wrong. 
Nothing wrong, just like how his shadows weren’t some kind of magic, according to them. 
He’d refused to believe in healers all that much since the explanation Madja had given him about his diseased pets. The writhing, tentacles of night were a ‘bodily mutation of the highest level, tainted with fae magic’. Tainted. The word felt right for what they were, but that didn’t mean it stung any less. 
“We’ll invade here, and be able to plant our…” There was a beat of silence in Amren’s quick words, then her voice cut through his busybodied task like a knife “Azriel, are you even listening?” 
Truthfully, he hadn’t been. He’d been consumed by the ache again, the broiling sickness beneath his skin that had every muscle flexed in tension. His mind had other battles to fight. 
“What does it matter? You’ll carry out your plan with or without me. Keep talking, make yourself feel important, Amren.” His ill-tempered response came quick and laced with venom. One glance towards the small not-quite-fae female and his mind gave a twinge of regret. 
A lick of her power radiated, filling the room with something vibrant and undeniable. Cassian sucked in a breath, and a word from Rhys had her firey gaze snapping to him instead. “Take your dog from the important business then, High Lord.” Her words were precise, hissed. 
Azriel straightened. The insult didn’t land as well as Amren had wanted, in part because he couldn’t care less, another because the fire under his skin was reaching a peak that he had no idea how he survived every time it came around. He glanced to Rhys, who gave him a nod. Good. Let him free of this cage. 
He flung open the balcony doors with his cursed gift and sprinted off the ledge, launching himself into the summer air. 
+
Rats nibbled at your toes when you slept, scurrying away before you could catch them. Your senses weren’t even close to what they had been months ago. Before, you’d been able to catch at least two a week for extra sustenance. 
You told yourself that they’d learned, that they’d gotten quicker at their biting and fleeing. Truthfully, you could feel your strength waning every day. 
Living was no longer hope, and more of an inconvenience. 
But it was an inconvenience to Kier as well. And that meant you’d keep on living out of spite. 
The next female would appreciate it. 
“Arms up, legs together.” The order came with unnatural casualness that you’d grown used to. If you didn’t follow the orders, you were beaten until you either complied or were unconscious, so complying was really the only option. Especially when you were attempting to stay alive for as long as you could. 
It’s for the next girl. You chanted to yourself when the keeper made the injection. It stung like hundreds of bees attacking the same place, but the pain was familiar. A friend you welcomed before everything went sideways and the nausea rolled in. 
The drug Kier’s men gave was like none you’d experienced outside this cell. An incredible high, with a disastrous low. 
You convulsed on the floor moments later, your body still barely able to take the amount they dosed you with. You’d seen the liquid inside the damn thing grow each week, they were marking your progress with every one of them. So, with each dosing you made sure to put on some dramatics for them. 
The clawing at the throat was false, the sound of your screams only half-forced. The real, unforced reaction though, was always the shade of pallor your skin turned after every injection. The darkness that radiated from you like a bubble, the pain made physical. 
It hovered over your skin like an aura, tendrils of it washing over your forehead when the sweating started. It always started like this, for the first few hours - or possibly minutes, you weren’t sure once you were lost to the pain - they’d observe, and sometimes Kier himself would join, looking like a disappointed mother. Then, once the shaking subsided, and you were able to breathe normally, they’d release a rabbit into your cell. 
The same rabbit almost every damn time. After the first two weeks, you’d grabbed the first one and snapped it’s neck, hoping that Kier would be happy with the accomplishment and you’d earn something. You’d felt awful as it died in your hands, but the pain… if it stopped the pain, you’d kill anything. 
But time after time, they’d send in another rabbit, and though you begged for some kind of explanation of what they wished with the damn thing, they’d only observe. After a few hours of investigating, it’d eventually be removed and you’d wake up alone again.
Kier did not make an appearance today, and after your shaking stopped, neither did a rabbit.
“Where’s dinner?” You croaked, the tears stinging small cuts on your cheeks. Your friend never laughed or spoke, hardly even moved when he was in the vicinity of your cell. It was odd, even for a freak who enjoyed drugging and torturing others.
The male only stared, writing in his little notebook. He could at least humor you and tell you what he was so keenly logging. Some friend.
He opened the door, but instead of the rabbit jumping inside, he stepped forward, past the barrier and wards keeping you from breaking through. Your breathing halted. 
“Your reluctance to learn your gifts has given us no other option.”
+
“Did you lose a fight?” 
Nesta’s words normally bounced and slid right off Azriel, but with how volatile he was feeling, it took all his restraint not to snarl at her.
“Come on Az, where’s that quick wit?” She chided, crossing her legs at the knee beside her sister. 
His eyes drifted to Elain, the warm blush of her cheeks. Her lavender nightshirt made her seem so much more vulnerable than she was. He knew just how lethal the female could be, and admired her for it. His eyes drifted to the soft hair and round features that he’d once dreamt of. How foolish he’d been, how full of hope and bitterness. Now here he was, merely a ghost. A shell for pain to be housed in and nothing more. 
And here he stared at a garden of hope and light. The female who’d haunted his dreams for years. The opposite of the steel bitch that sat beside her. 
A pang of guilt pinched at him. “You’re ridiculous.” Was all he could muster at her. Nesta was trying to help, in her own way, he supposed. She was testing his limits and temper, even while balancing comforting words and attempting to heal her little sister’s mental wounds. Not to mention navigating the strange, untrained gift of Elain’s.
It wasn’t often that Azriel came to the house of wind proper. When he did, he usually confined himself to the dining area and the war room, where the formal dinners and meetings were held. He hadn’t walked the halls into the large internal library in a long, long while. No wonder they both had turned their chairs to face him when he’d cracked the door to find them both here. 
The large windows seemed crowded with the amount of books that surrounded them. The only source of light, aside from the twinkling magic fueled ones above. The room had always made Azriel feel claustrophobic, and now it set him on edge in a way different than it had before. 
Especially when Elain’s eyes bored into his own. His skin felt like it was shifting, pulling and pushing from just beneath. He was beginning to wonder if the healers had somehow missed a parasite of some kind. Something new perhaps, something they’d never seen before.
Elain’s eyes widened, her cheeks going from the pink blush to sickly pale in an instant. Her expression was unfocused, hazy - as if she were drunk. Azriel suddenly felt like he was intruding, like seeing her so vulnerable was something reserved for only those close to her. 
Nesta placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed her sister’s back comfortingly. It was about as tender as Azriel had ever seen her, even with Cassian. He watched the hands that rubbed the Seer, recalling the intense desire he’d once felt for her. Embarrassment coated his cheeks, distracting him from the physical pain for a moment.
He’d wanted to be that support for her, once. Nesta’s hand seemed to grow in his vision, the embroidered collar of Elain’s nightshirt with it. He blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. The blackness around his eyes did not recede though. His bones ached, and his headache stabbed at him like a branding iron. He rubbed his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“She needs help.” Elain gasped, coughing on a breath. Azriel wavered on his heels, something hard hitting his back, crushing his wings. 
He could barely hear the high strung sound of Elain’s voice. “She needs help, Azriel!”
+
He tore though the court, dragging Kier kicking and frothing with him. He’d received a few severe wounds from the cruel male, but nothing that a few patches of his siphons couldn’t hold together. 
The gushing stab wounds could wait. He had something far more important to tend to.
“You’re a bastard, a low-born inconsequential bastard, Shadowsinger.” Kier coughed as Azriel dragged his broken body with him. The crowd pushed and writhed around them, but his outstretched dagger kept any of the patrons from advancing. Several dark looks, hisses of death closed in around him, but he plowed through them all, working his way to the catacombs behind the stone chair that served as Rhys’s dark throne. 
“I may be a bastard-” Azriel grunted through his pain, now more fevored and intense than before. It was a wonder he’d even been able to make it here, but it did explain his sloppy handling of Kier once he’d found the male. 
“But at least I didn’t sell a daughter off as stock.” He tossed the would-be-king to the locked door of the catacombs, a part of him enjoyed the thunk his head made against the stone floor, even through the intense agony that ripped through him. 
This was not the place to show weakness. If he let his shadows drop, let the air of anything but a cold hearted killer go for even a moment he’d be trampled by the crowd. 
Kier rose slowly, muttering curses while he pulled out a key and slid the door to the side. He sketched a bow, waving Azriel in. Spit landed at Azriels feet as he crossed the threshold, and he hesitated in his step. A hiss rang out behind him, shuffling feet a song as the crowd quickly scooted back. He held his stance there for a moment, collecting the wrath that built in him. It writhed and twisted in his mind, his guts, his teeth throbbing with the urge to tare out Kier’s throat. 
The blistering heat flared again, this time in his jaw and he moved down the hall, towards the cells that an unfortunate assistant to Kier had described. 
He’d made their death quick, painless. 
+
You couldn’t scream, could hardly breathe with the weight that seemed to be growing in your chest. 
Not weight exactly, more like pressure. Internal pressure, like there was lava built up inside you with nowhere to go. And every rattling breath seemed to give it more life. You wheezed, weak with the exhaustion of fighting it. 
Your friend had given you three more of the injections, and promptly left when you began struggling against the binds at your hands and feet. One of them had ripped, you only knew because that was the hand that you’d used to claw at your chest with. 
The blood made going any further too slippery and exhausting.
There were far away sounds, but it all seemed too strange, so disjointed to be real. Screams and sharp clangs of metal, breaking glass and thudding. 
Your eyes slipped closed, and relief washed over you. The pressure eased, and the squeaky hinges of the door opened. Had death finally come? Was this the end of your cycle, and now they were bringing in a new victim to Kier’s experiments? 
There wasn’t much of a goodbye to the world, though. As sad as it was to not be able to see your family again, you were just grateful that the pain was receding. That finally there’d be no injections, no innocent rabbit and certainly no Kier around. 
The sounds were strange, a choking, strangled sound like the first time you’d killed the rabbit. Your eyes cracked open almost involuntarily to see what had happened. 
Outside your cell in a glow of blue light was a winged male, his hand wrist deep inside your friend’s chest. 
+
Blood is hotter than most people think it is. Azriel takes joy in it though, when it’s the blood of the truly vile ones. The male with the syringes and log book reeked of something spiced and foreign, something Azriel’d never encountered before. He would have asked, would have talked to the male if he’d not pulled a knife and threatened to ‘kill her’ as he backed away. 
There were no thoughts after that. And as he fell to the floor, Azriel reveled in the male’s labored breathing. Relief and heat flooded him, prickling him with a soaring joy he’d thought abandoned him long ago. He could laugh, if it weren’t for the absurdity of how it sounded to laugh at this moment.
 He plucked the book from his hands and shoved it into his belt behind him, his chest thrumming with joy.
He’d never been so filled with glee before, so overwhelmed with it after killing… Had he become broken in a sick way? Was he no better than the male he’d just killed? He looked to his hand, twisting it in the low light of his siphons. 
A wet, weak cough echoed off the walls and he spun, knife ready. 
Then the blade was on the floor as he rushed to the bars of the cell door, ripping it free of the rusted hinges. 
The female was gaunt, and frail. Yet his chest sang and though she looked moments from death, he couldn’t imagine more beauty. 
She clutched her chest, the blood there crusted and dry. “Thanks.” She croaked, voice barely a whisper. Shadows mounted around him, enclosing them in complete black. He would have thought he was winnowing if it weren't for the sorry excuse for a bed that stayed beneath her.
Azriel’s lips were moving, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying, even to his own ears. His mind, his body was a rushing river of every emotion at once, all cascading through his mind, to his chest and thrumming in his blood. Her eyes went wide and wild, searching his for a moment. His heart thundered in his ears.
What had his life been until now? Why was this moment such a climax to him so suddenly? All of it, the pain the agony, the stark moments of joy against it all - the brief moments of shared happiness that made it all worth it tore through his body like a flash floor. 
Tears pricked his eyes, and it was a curious thing to see them fall onto her neck and wash away the blood there. 
Then, a wet sigh from her lips, and her eyes stopped searching his. The rush of joy and sense of sanctuary ceased. His blood went quiet in his ears, and the room felt suddenly cold. The room silent around him, not even his shadows dared whisper.
His fingers hesitated over her cheek. When her next breath did not come, he shook her gently. Her eyes remained, staring blankly at the ceiling. 
This was truly a tomb now. 
“No…” He heard his own words that time. The word clattered through the cell like a bell tolling, echoing.
“Take her back.” A shadow hissed over his ear, caressing. 
He shook her again, the tears boiling over now, panic gripping him. 
“We know how.” another said. This voice was different, the same whispered tone and suggestion, but this was not one of his pets. He sent his own shadows skittering away, and a group of them stayed, unbound to him and unmoving from the cell. His heart skipped, fear upon fear pulling him into the icy abyss of despair. 
His own shadows returned, a broken syringe floating to him on their behest. They mingled with the others, reveling and dancing together though Azriel felt that he was slowly sinking.
“What am I supposed to do with this?!” He shouted at them, at nothing. He had truly lost his mind, hadn’t he?
“Save her.” The strange shadows told him. Just like Elain had said, overtaken by her visions.
 A tendril of the foreign shadow wrapped around his hand, locking the glass pieces there and slicing into his palm. The needle aimed directly to her chest, between the ribs, only a few inches from the heart. 
And what did he have to lose? The silence that surrounded him now was almost worse than the pain had been. Wouldn't pain at least be better than complete nothingness? To feel completely blank and unwritten as a being?
With a breath, and a part of his siphon’s power to support the broken syringe, he pushed into her skin. His own blood dribbled down the sides, mixing with hers. Through and through - until he knew that he’d met the same depth of a killing blow to an opponent’s heart. 
+
“Side, block, strike.” Cassian’s orders came out in demanding, practiced tones. Each step, each swipe of your blade met with one of Azriel’s shadows as a shield. 
His were still much, much stronger than yours, even after months of practice with them. Even with him showing you very intimately just how much they were capable of. Your cheeks blushed at the reminder of that. 
“No distractions, keep that shadow talk in the bedroom, Az.” Cassian scolded.
A smirk played at your mate’s face, and he hit you with a surprise swipe at your feet, left unprotected by your own shadows. 
You fell on your ass, cursing. 
Azriel offered a hand, panting at the exertion the sparring had taken. You were proud of that, at least. 
The first six months of training had been dedicated to building stamina, gaining back weight and muscle while balancing training your shadows to obey you. Six months ago, being able to spar with your mate had seemed like a far off dream that you’d never be capable of doing. 
But with his training, and Cassian’s encouragement, you were almost able to take him on stride for stride. Almost. 
So, you took his hand and pulled him towards you for a kiss. Then knocked his knees out from behind with a wave of your own shadows.
You smirked, and offered him a hand while Cassian boomed with laughter.
He allowed you to help him up, but cleaned in close, pecking a kiss on your cheek. 
“You’ll pay for that later.” He said in an intimate tone. A lick of his shadow wrapped around your thigh, snaking upwards. 
“Promise?” Your eyes sparkled at him, and the pain all those months ago had been worth it for this. 
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gatorbites-imagines · 1 month
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Anakin flirting with m reader and ending making out? Pls
Anakin Skywalker x Male reader
Headcanons
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You are a non-jedi general during the Clone wars, cuz yall lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship.
This turned out a lot sweeter than i had planned ngl.
You were a general during the clone wars. You weren’t anything special, you couldn’t use the force, you weren’t from some rich or special background, your name didn’t carry any weight. The only gift you seemed to have, was your inability to be affected by the force. All in all, you weren’t anything to write home about.
Of course, that’s also what made you so damn useful in your role. No one kept an eye on you, everyone underestimated you, you could get away with so much because to most people in charge, you didn’t exist. You not being able to be manipulated by the force, also made you extremely skilled in what you did, without anyone seeming to notice.
Your feat of climbing the military ranks in leaps and bounds only got you mild acknowledgments, and a handful of attempted manipulations from some people in power. But when they realized you didn’t bend, but you weren’t important enough to get rid of, they left you alone.
At 22 you had reached the rank of senior general in the republic army, placing you above even a good chunk of the jedi you fought against, which was also why you had been placed with the 501st, to apparently teach their general the basics.
Anakin and Obi-Wan had both been unsettled by the fact that they couldn’t sense you in the force the first time you met. Every being, even the nonliving, had a presence. But you didn’t. it was like you didn’t exist.
That took quite some time to get used too, especially to someone as force sensitive as Anakin. But over time you two started getting along, and though it took him some time and a lot of grumbling, Anakin did learn quite a lot from you.
The flirting had been subtle in the beginning, or as subtle as Anakin could be. From getting your help on reports and readings he just “couldn’t understand”, to getting you to help him stretch after he had spent hours going through his katas.
You weren’t oblivious, you couldn’t be with the life you lived, so of course you noticed his attempts at flirting. It was endearing in a way. To see someone who was supposed to have no connection to people like that, seem so drawn to you.
It also left you feeling uneasy in a way, as you had never really had much time to relationships or even flirting for that matter, having spent all these years making something of yourself.
Alongside the flirting you two became good friends, and you had even signed yourself up to stay with his platoon, even when your training was done. This was also where you learned he had had a thing with Padme, but they realized they were better as friends a while ago.
When you shared your own lack of experience, it seemed to boost some of Anakin’s confidence, seeing as you both were on new ground. And like with anything else, he took to it with gusto.
The fact that you never turned him down or rejected him, sometimes even laughing and playing along, only made Anakin try even harder. It was cute, to see him trying his best to woo you in a subtle and less noticeable way, seeing as he was still a jedi and it wasn’t actually allowed.
The 501st knew though. Of course they knew, and when Ahsoka came around she figured it out very fast, and she most likely took up the role as hype man and background support.
Your flirting became part of your dynamic, it was just something that you two did, which to outsiders was just seen as banter to keep the spirits up.
It also didn’t go past flirting for a long time, seeing as you guys were always surrounded by people. And being besides Anakin didn’t let you slip into the shadows like you were used too, since he would glow so brightly.
The need for privacy was what had you two slinking off to the side during one of the nights in camp, the platoon having settled down on a planet and waiting for their next orders. Anakin and you had decided to wander off, settling somewhere nearby, but far enough away to get some time alone together.
There might also have been a bottle of alcohol in your coat. It was nowhere near enough to get either of you drunk, especially with the force helping clear it out of Anakin’s system quicker than average folk. But it was enough to loosen up and get comfortable.
Your normal banter of flirting was constant, but as the buzz settled it became something softer and somehow hotter, the feelings growing thick in the air and noticeable enough that even you, who was as force sensitive as a rock if not lesser, could sense it.
Anakin must have made some corny pass at you, that cocky grin on his lips and his hair brushed back and out of his face, letting you truly see his handsome features. Something came over you, later you would blame the force, but it just felt right.
Leaning in and closing the gap between you seemed to have shocked Anakin, his eyes wide before he seemingly melted against you, arms wrapping around your neck and torso and pulling you even closer.
The kiss was far from the most skilled or pleasant, but your shared lack of experience was fully made up for by enthusiasm.
Anakin would pant and grunt as the kiss turned steamier, lips parting and tongues rubbing together, spit gathering at the edges of your mouths and a line of drool running down his chin. His eyes were shut tightly in concentration, his brows furrowed and hands grasping as your coat.
You had no idea how long you two were laying there, kissing like two lovesick fools from some romance novel. Hands were grasping and exploring, but never going further than that. Now wasn’t the time to go any wilder than what you were doing, but the possibility of it was enough to make the kiss even better.
When you pulled away, Anakin leaned after you with a soft noise, bottom lip pouting out and red from the insistent kissing, his eyes cracking open to look at you with the softest look you had ever seen from him.
“Not all of us can hold our breath for hours” you snarked with a soft chuckle, since you knew he could, thanks to the force. Your jedi grumbled, but tucked his head under your chin, still clutching you close and brushing his lips against your neck.
Neither of you spoke for a while, just holding onto each other. You found yourself brushing your fingers through his hair, Anakin almost arching into the touch like an affection starved tooka, a sight that only made you smile more.
“I like you a lot” he mumbled, glancing up at you through his lashes with that insistent determined, but somehow still soft and warm look in his eyes. Just seeing him like that made you wanna kiss him again, to devour him whole.
“I think I like you too” you replied, an upwards tick to your lips as you pulled him close again. Even without the ability to feel the force, you could still feel it flare, like the sun rising in the morning. It would be no surprise if Ahsoka knew exactly what had happened, and the padawan would be confronting you guys about it later.
But right now all that mattered was laying there with Anakin, and maybe stealing a couple more of those deep insistent and longing kisses, since he sounded so pretty when you did. You guys could deal with everything else later.
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whalesforhands · 8 months
Text
purge your turmoil pt.8 (satosugu x reader)
previous masterlist next
warnings: yandere behaviors and tendencies, my experimental tone shifts, not really creepy unless u find obsessive behaviors and patterns horrifying, gore mentions
Surrounded by debris of the dilapidated, abandoned hospital, you hold onto a raggedy stuffed doll left behind.
 It’s soft and colourful. Or, it once was. Her dress stained and riddled with blood and dirt, her cotton body having been slashed through the middle, soft cotton falling out as you hold her.
 A child’s final comfort in their last moments. It’s hard to breathe thinking about it. 
Your thumb gently caresses the doll’s smiling face, clearing off dust and remnants of dirt as best you could. 
“Will this,” Your words tremble. “Ever end?” 
Suguru stands beside you,  hands clenching when he catches the look of quiet despair on your face.
“I think… It’s not something to hope for.” He wishes he could offer more than just this.
“It’s,” You suck in a harsh breath, not realizing you’ve been holding your breath. “Been hard.” Your eyes flutter close as you try to ignore the haunting memories of blood on your hands, of cries for help, of massacred bodies of unfortunate victims. Over and over and over and over-
“And here you are, despite how hard it’s been.” He’s beside you now, kneeling down on one knee next to you as he tenderly grips a dirtied, matching ribbon found within the rubble back around the doll’s neck, tenderly patting its head when he finishes. 
It’s whole once again. You gently prop it against the crumbled pillar.
You hope that in another life, that doll and her owner are reunited.
——
The ticking of a clock sounds out somewhere around you, quiet and constant, each tock giving your eyelids the strength to finally lift, only to be met with the endless darkness ahead of you.
You don’t know if you’re still alive.
You’ve been floating around in here for… God knows how long. It’s lonely. Everyone. What’s happening? Where are they? You miss Shoko. You miss Satoru. You miss Suguru. You miss Yaga. You miss that little boy.
“You look like someone I know.”
You gently smile at him, eyes closed in amused bliss as you continue to stroke his hair, his head in your lap as he stares up at you with a furrowed brow of scrutinization.
“That so? I don’t think my features are very distinguishable from others, I suppose.” You giggle out, happy to have the young boy so comforted in your embrace as you softly pat his head.
(He’s so soft and squishy. You want to pull and stretch those mochi-like cheeks of his. You refrain, afraid of another barking remark that ultimately held no bite.)
“That’s not what I meant.” He pulls a sulky, irritated expression, brows still downturned into one of dissatisfaction, as if he can’t put his finger on where the sense of familiarity was coming from.
“You look like the pictures in the-“
You miss everyone. When was the last time you talked to them? You think and think, churning your brain, eyes squeezing close as you’re hit by a wave of bitter pain, your spine straightening out as you clutch your head.
“I think…” You begin to trail off, eyes stuck to the glowing blue glass of the aquarium as you watch a whale shark swim past your vicinity within the enclosure.
It’s tranquil. You squeeze the warm hands you held as you watched the sight before you with a smile.
“If I could choose… I’d like a life where I could grow old with all of you.”
You’re smiling as you think about it. Maybe you could rent a little apartment near wherever the 3 of them are staying, a quaint, quiet neighbourhood…
(…marriage? Maybe. That promise still makes you blush.)
Riko would give up on her little Star Plasma spiel. Live the way she truly wanted to, a way where she can finally find happiness, experience the joys she’s yet to feel.
Everyone… Would just be happy. Just like they deserve, just like they should.
But… You can’t possibly witness that if you’re dead, right? Your fingers claw at your face as you feel the bewildering pain of your thoughts. Are you really dead? No— Please, there’s still so much left to do. Your pitiful life should’ve had a reason for your living, and yet—
You can’t hear them. Can’t hear anything. You’re dead. Dead. What’s happening out there? Move. Move. Move.
The silence is deafening as your body squirms and you block out your ears.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tickticktickticktick-
Nobody is answering you. You’re missing the physical connection you once had to your body. How long has it been? How long have you been stuck like this? Time doesn’t even feel like it exists while you’re here.
The incessant ticking comes to a stop.
——
You learned to recognize this place in your time here. Your cursed void. One where no one but you could enter, and no one but you could leave.
The problem was… You couldn’t leave. You’ve tried. Walked and walked for endless miles, clawed at the abyssal darkness that never had an end, screamed into the void for hours just to never have an answer.
You… Can’t really be in here forever, can you?
It’s lonely in here.
“Gojo-sama, who is (last name)-san…?”
The tall man grins micheviously, looking down at the tiny hand he held within his palms as he squeezes lightly, before bending down to be eye level with his child.
“A special someone you’ll meet soon enough.”
——
“Nanako… We shouldn’t be in here…”
“It’s fine, Mimi! Papa and Daddy didn’t say we can’t visit! We just want to put the fresh flowers in for her! Plus…” She pauses, turning her head left and right, scouring the area.
“Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t here to stop us!”
The last sentence was dropped to a whisper, as if the blonde just realized her voice could attract attention.
Suguru kisses your hair, hands trailing to interlock your fingers with his own as he breathes in the very feel of you.
“Look, kids.” Geto pulls away, touch still lingering on your skin that had long gone cold years ago. He flashes a smile towards his awaiting children, showing you off for them to see.
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
You startle from your curled up position, hearing two faint sets of feet patter into the room. Slow, trying their best to tiptoe before a certain pair gives up, breaking into a sprint towards you.
A tiny crack forms within your domain as your ears keen to listen.
“See! It’s perfectly fine!”
You hear tapping, the fumbling of paper and plastic.
“Papa said it’s okay to give her flowers. I wanna be first cause today’s her…” She furrows her brows as she tries to mouth out the word. “Anniv- Ersaury?”
Mimiko frowns at her twin. “We should wait till everyone gets here…” She’s unsure, hugging her plush to her chest as she nervously looks around, more afraid of getting in trouble with her beloved parents more than anything.
The crack grows larger, making its way towards you.
“But last time we only got to spend like 10 seconds with her before Papa and Daddy chased us out!” Nanako huffed, a hand on her hip as she gripped a large bouquet of white lilies and osmanthus flowers, Mimiko holding onto the incense sticks.
“Anyway!” Nanako turns back to face you, settling the flowers down as she moves to kneel before you, hurrying Mimiko to start placing the incense.
“Let’s just start!”
You swiftly move towards it, ignoring the shards of glass digging into the soles of your feet, eyes burning from the shimmers of light shining through the holes as you chase it down, wanting, yearning for this escape.
The anxious twin lets out a deep sigh, lighting the incense sticks with a nearby candle as she hands a few to her awaiting sister, who settles down comfortably on her knees atop the prayer pillow.
“I wish for you to get better soon!” She holds the incense sticks up with her hands as she prays, eyes closed in deep concentration.
“Mhm…” Her twin follows suit, surrounding the room in a deep silence as they are joined by the flickers of the flame, the slow dripping of dewdrops from their fresh flowers chorusing with their heartfelt pleas.
Your surroundings begin to shatter, glass like formations raining down upon you as a shining bright light envelops your sight, a bubble immediately blowing up and swallowing you in its embrace as you begin to glow, the twins jumping off and Nanako standing protectively before her sister as she gets pushed back by your cursed technique.
“I- I think we broke it…” Mimiko’s voice is starting to crack as her tears begin to well up in her eyes, her hand dragging Nanako further back from you.
“Shh! What if Daddy hears us?”
“But he’s gone to pick up Gumi and big sister Tsumiki…”
Your eyelashes flutter as you slowly blink open your eyes, sensations of touch and your feel of the atmosphere slowly return to you. Your dried up flesh slowly plumping up, blood beginning to flow throughout your body, face instantaneously flushing with colour once more as you gasp out, taking lungfuls of air, irises rolling back to the front to view the space before you.
“Nanako… Is that…?”
You’re met with the darkness of what seems to be a bedroom. You slowly move to get up, bones creaking and your fingers slowly twitching to really get the feel of your body back, brushing against the various lilies and osmanthus flowers surrounding you, seemingly fresh in nature as dewdrops slowly dripped off the petals and onto your fingertips.
You look around you, disoriented and feeling fatigued, slowly sitting up against the plush area you were lying upon. It felt like you had just awoken from the dead.
“H…ello?” Your eyes flicker over to the 2 little girls standing before you, voice hoarse, broken. Vocal cords tangled together from years of underuse as you feel your organs literally start to pump to life, eyesight slowly coming back as your vision gets restored by the bubble.
It pops.
They scream, rushing towards you as they lunge towards your form.
“We did it Mimi! We cured Mama!”
Mama…? Did you- Oh my god. You’re blushing up a storm at the thought of it.
“Wha-What…?” Their smiles grow ever bigger, hugs growing startlingly tight for their small forms.
“Mhm! Along with Gumi and our big sister Tsumiki! But they’re at school now and Daddy is gonna pick them up and buy us lunch, then, then! We’re gonna eat dinner together cause Papa’s coming back today, then we’re gonna tell them we woke you up!”
“B-but we have to apologise to Papa and Daddy first for going inside the room, Nanako…”
You hear Nanako audibly gulp. “O-okay, but what if-“
Your eyes are starting to gloss over. You didn’t think that you’d be having 4 kids after being in that void for so long…
“W-wait—“ You’re trying to get used to your voicebox, trying to get used to the feeling of being alive once more. “Y-Your par—“
“Ahh, I’m so hungry!” The blonde one is curling herself into your chest as she whimpers from her hunger, a loud growl coming from her supposed sister next to her as she hugs your arm to her chest alongside her plushie.
You look down at the girls who are still upon your lap, staring up at you in expectant want. Oh— You suppose your question can wait for later.
…everything happens for a reason, right?
(Where is everyone?)
——
“Is the fridge always this empty?” You’re standing shakily on your feet, almost akin to a newborn whilst trying your best to not lose balance.
“No, Papa is just out of town on his job right now!” Nanako puts her hands on her hips as Mimiko signals you to come down with a frantic come hither motion of her hand, you kneel to her level, nearly falling over had it not been for the second twin flanking onto your other side and pushing you up with all her body’s strength, whilst Mimiko cups a hand around her mouth, whispering into your right ear.
“Daddy can’t cook, so he always buys takeout when Papa isn’t around…”
Nanako tugs at your sleeve on your left, signalling for you to come towards her.
“Don’t tell Papa but,” Her voice gains an excited tremor. “Sometimes Daddy lets us eat ice cream and cake for dinner!” She pauses once again.
“And he forgets to remind us to brush our teeth!” The girls giggle together in unison.
“Then sometimes, when Daddy is called on for a sudden mission…”
“He brings us all along and lets us watch him beat up the bad guys right in front of us! Gumi likes it the most!” The girls start zooming around you, throwing punches into the air and pretending to hit each other as Nanako feigns hurt when she takes a ‘direct’ hit from Mimiko’s plush.
“Ahhh! I’ve been hit by Red! KABOOSH!!” She falls dramatically to the ground, imitating a explosion with waves of her little arms before splaying herself by your feet and clutching your calf.
“Like that!”
You’re sweating with stress as you listen, patting their heads as they smile angelically at you. You need to talk to their parents about this before you get a heart attack.
(Missions… Red… Are their parents jujutsu sorcerers?)
“Girls.” You stand back up, your hands placed on both of their heads as you began to pat them gently as they nuzzle up into your warm touch. Nanako holds your hand in place when she feels you try to pull away, whilst Mimiko begins to intertwine her fingers with your own, trying to trap you.
“Why don’t we go buy something?”
——
You’re silently panicking as the two girls drag you towards the old crepe shop, tugging you by the hand as you’re slightly hunched over to allow them easier access to you.
You forgot the most crucial thing.
Money.
“Papa and Daddy always lets us follow them to the school! Then, then-!”
“Then we buy chocolate milk because Papa and Daddy really like it!”
“But Daddy never finishes his, so we get extra cause he gives it to us!”
“Then we play with Uncle Yaga who gives us new dolls every month! Then Uncle Yu, he’s super, super fun! Auntie Shoko gives us sweets when Papa isn’t looking!”
(Yaga, Yu— Shoko…!)
Mimiko pipes in. “Uncle Kento sometimes plays with us when he’s not busy eating his big sandwiches… Then Megumi and Miki comes back from school and then-!”
(Kento… Megumi? Miki? Does this mean— Could it be?)
“We eat dinner together!”
“You’re gonna lovvvveeee them!”
Your hands pat their hands, feeling them nuzzle into your warm touch.
“I’m sure I will.” You’re suddenly before the crepe stand as the two girls drool over their options. “But first, um… Do you girls happen to have any allowance?”
(“Oh! Yea!” Mimiko unzips the back of her plushie, pulling out a singular 10000 yen bill as your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.
“Daddy gave it to us before he left so that we could use it if we wanted!”
Your jaw is still hanging low in shock to process her words.)
——
“Uncle Yaga!” The girls pounce into his arms, causing him to stumble before he firmly plants his feet onto the ground.
“Children…! What are you doing here?” His voice had lost their usual rough tone, turning softer as he smiles down at the familiar kids. Still… They shouldn’t be here. Is Gojo nearby—
He senses it.
He feels the pulse of a familiar energy, hurriedly pushing the kids behind him as his sunglasses scan the area, spotting your tired form slumped over against a tree, trying to catch your breath.
“Kids…” You’re huffing as you try to get your bearings back. “Please don’t run…!”
No. It couldn’t be— There’s absolutely no way—! His hands ready themselves, calling for his cursed corpses to the scene before you-!
“Ahh! Yaga-sensei…!” You’re still panting as you reach him, sweat on your brow and your legs jellylike as the twins continue to cling onto him, wondering what’s going on.
“I’m so glad you weren’t so far away!” You’re sweating, smiling through your tiredness as you try to regain your bearings.
“I have so much to ask you!”
“Let’s talk in my office.”
——
There’s a hurried stampede of feet before the door is quite literally ripped off its hinges.
Her unlit cigarette collapses to the floor from her grip as she stares at the sight before her, felt the surrounding cursed energy as her body freezes in place.
She takes a step back, legs trembling when she places a hand over her mouth in shock, her eyes widened in horror and distress as she met your form.
Suguru’s distraught as he looks into your eyes. Eyes that never should’ve opened ever again. Eyes that he thought he would never see again. Eyes that he missed seeing with every fiber of his being, every speck of his soul.
You.
How are you here? Why were you out of that room specifically made to contain you?
Why are you alive?
“Yaga.” His eyes have narrowed into dangerous slits, fingernails digging painfully into the calloused flesh of his palms as the snarl he has on his face grows turbulent and murderous.
His curses are immediately summoned, one delegated to swallowing Shoko and tucking her away in its belly as it brings her devastated form to safety.
It’s tense. The words are stuck in your throat as you try to make yourself heard.
The mere presence of his cursed energy is causing you to freeze up from the overwhelming fear.
His cursed spirits were on their haunches, ready to pounce and stab and claw through the flesh of anyone who dares to stir the rage, the trembling anger of their master.
Your eyes widen as you witness the familiar worm spirit appear by his shoulder, hurling out a long set of nunchucks from its disgusting mouth. Your hands tremble as your spine straightens, his gaze deadset on you as you see the flashes of a million emotions running through him.
You’re breathless in his presence.
“You have 5 seconds,” Yaga feels the dreadfully cold voice of the special grade shaman, the aura emanating sending chills down his very spine as the lightbulb bursts, darkness swallowing the room as the air suddenly fills with putrid, thick smoke that crept into his lungs, skin prickling with goosebumps.
The suffocating presence of Geto Suguru.
“To tell me why my wife’s corpse is in front of us.”
previous masterlist next
Notes:
Through abuse of his power as the revered Six Eyes and Limitless technique inheritor of the renowned Gojo clan, Gojo was able to get possession over your body.
Geto and Ieiri were the ones who made a special coffin in efforts to preserve your body utilizing cursed energy.
Yaga was about to attack you after sensing your cursed energy. But the sight before him— Made him realise you can’t exactly be a threat.
Geto thinks you’re a curse. How devastating, to think that a mere curse dares to imitate your presence, dares to imitate you on your death anniversary. He wants to hurl, to vomit. The feeling in his mouth more disgusting, more vile than any curse he’s ever swallowed.
And yet, his heart yearns to feel you in his arms once more.
nvy’s aftertalk:
who wants to guess wtf is happening hahahahah
that praying scene is inspired partially by the way i do it when i go to the temple to pray haha
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scary-lasagna · 2 months
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Could I request some lore headcanons for the proxies and their relationships with each other? :] Take care of yourself and drink water!
me, who only drinks carbonated water and grapefruit juice :sunglasses:
I'll keep it brief since it can get lengthy
Tim
Tim is the leader.
He's the responsible one of the group, and is always looking out for others more than himself.
He has a nasty habit of just charging in headfirst when it's only him on the line.
So, his sense of self-preservation is awfully skewed.
But he loves his friends, and them as a whole team. He's just proud of how well they all keep each other in check.
And if they ever need advice, Tim is always the one to go to considering how bluntly he'll dish advice.
Brian
Brian is Dad #2
He's like the boring parent who ensures you're always safe if you're doing something stupid.
But there's no learning experience unless you get hurt sometimes, so he'll let the others choose for themselves.
Brian is also the primary medic of the proxies and deals with any on-field injuries. He learned everything from EJ and they're pretty good acquaintces.
Brian is always checking in on everyone, wanting to know how they're doing mentally and to talk if they need a shoulder to lean on.
He's the most trustworthy one of the proxies.
Toby
Toby is the (lovingly) stupid younger brother everyone must look out for.
Despite living well into his 20s, he still hasn't quite grasped how to navigate everything with CIPA and neurodivergence.
He'll make impulsive decisions, like diving over an open flame, nearly sending Brian into cardiac arrest because he does NOT know how to handle 3rd degree without the proper tools.
And Toby is assigned the role of a Scout, meaning he's always in front.
This is good and bad, but mostly good, considering he can't wander off and shove things in his pockets.
(He's found a lovely way to work around this, of course).
Kate
Kate only pretends she hates everyone.
If it really came down to it, she would take a bullet for any of these idiots.
Toby especially loves to annoy her until she starts yelling at him, and then he has the audacity to get upset.
Kate is hot on her feet, and the fastest out of everyone, being a chaser.
But she's also terribly hot headed, and quick to jump to conclusions which can lead to tension between her and everyone.
So, she distances herself, because that's what she feels is safe.
The only one that can relatively get through to her is Clock.
She holds Clock in a really high regard, whether it's because Clock beat her ass the first day they met, or because she thinks she's pretty, no one will know.
Clock
Like Brian, she's quite level-headed.
She's the most cautious one, and will usually stay toward the back of the group.
Clock might be the only one to think all of the different outcomes through if given enough time, but if she has to make a quick decision, it never ends well.
She panics easily, not out of fear, but because her brain just doesn't compute quick-time-events.
She's close with Kate and Toby, and sometimes Brian, depending on the day.
Toby had the biggest crush on her when she first arrived, but she shut him down, letting him know that he's probably going through a trauma response of latching onto people.
Toby thought long and hard after that (in tears).
And then he gifted her a little goldfish as a peace offering, to which she still has to this day.
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strawbeerossi · 9 months
Text
Nights Like These
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18+ Content. Minors DNI
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: After a grueling case, your best friend and roommate Spencer comes home a lot more cuddly and hands on. So much so you two have to share a bed because he just doesn’t wanna be alone.
Content Warning: Some light case discussion, light angst due to Spencer being in distress from the case, one of the many versions of the one bed trope, best friends with hidden feelings trope, Spencer ends up having a wet dream, admitted feelings, some sweet fluff, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, some cockwarming in the end.
Word Count: 2.5K
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Tags 🏷️ @beardedhotchh @nyx-tella @multifandom-on-the-side @morgthemagpie @eveyez-exe @avis-writeshq
This is purely self indulgent. Also new format of not doing purely 3rd person. Let me know if I should do this more often.
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You knew how hard it was for Spencer on emotionally draining cases. He had feared being alone after them, his experience in prison making him more prone to the occasional outburst, which he desperately tried avoiding.
They could take an everlasting impact on him if he wasn’t careful enough, the idea of losing all control and being faced with the trauma that continued stacking against him was not what he needed.
He struggled enough with his day to day life, his therapist only able to give him so much advice and do so much for him. He liked to say that she helped but she wasn’t a miracle worker. He seemed to never be comfortable in the past.
Until he met you.
He’d found solace with you.
The way you would play with his hair and let him get as close as possible to you so he could cling for comfort were things that he appreciated. You weren’t the type to push him away and tell him to deal with his own issues, no, you took care of him.
You’d met whenever Spencer put out an ad for a new roommate, living in DC was something he could afford due to the luxury of working with the FBI for fifteen years, however he didn’t like being alone. 
He was fresh out of prison at the time, the silence being too eery to deal with. He knew he couldn’t live in the chaos of JJ’s house, nor could he turn to much of anyone else on the team. He felt like a burden to them. A piece of him died in the prison cell he was left in,the nights of being awake due to the impending doom that was gonna strike granted the inmates found out he was a federal agent.
When he had gotten into contact with you due to you being the first one to speak with him, he had already found some sense in comfort with you. You were kind and always had a smile on your face, not to mention that you had a sense of cleanliness that Spencer could definitely deal with.
 Due to his busy life, his apartment could tend to be littered with books that he’d started before he got a call, he would have case files piling up, even the occasional coffee cup or two was left out. He wasn’t a slob, yet he could definitely benefit from a roommate who would teach him the ways of organization.
The both of you really seemed to hit it off, your energies feeding into one another really well. You learned he knew way too much, joking how you didn’t know how his brain could hold the vast amount of knowledge that stuck with him. He learned that you were really into science fiction novels and films, being impressed with your knowledge of Doctor Who and Star Trek. 
Both of you were seemingly cut from the same piece of cloth, making it easier for you to upgrade from just being roommates to best friends as well.
It was a late Tuesday night whenever Spencer was quietly walking through the front door. He could smell the familiar scent of lemon, associating the smell with the cleaner that you’d mop the floors with. 
He was toeing his shoes off by the front door, knowing you’d kill him if you woke up to anything on the freshly mopped floors. “Y/N?” He called, walking deeper into the apartment. His voice was hoarse, presumably from yelling at some point. 
“In my room!” You call, glancing up from the book in your hands while watching Spencer quietly push the door open. He looked exhausted. Being familiar already with that look, you were placing your book down before holding your arms out to Spencer with a soft sigh.
As he approached your bed and you felt his body collapse in your arms, you were slowly rubbing his back.The heaviness of his heart could be felt by the way his grip tightened on you, his face buried in your neck as his body shifted to get comfortable on the bed beside you. 
Your fingers were threading through the touseled curls on his head, nails occasionally scratching his scalp in an effort to help soothe him. It seemed to work, his grip loosening and his head lifting soon after, cheek against the fluffy pillow that he could’ve swore that you had added to your bed just for him.
“It was a hard case.” He stated the obvious, making your head nod. “I can imagine. Do you wanna talk about it?” The softness of your voice brought Spencer comfort, a soft sigh falling from his lips. “The unsub targeted male and female best friends. Apparently, his ex-girlfriend had left him for someone who was her best friend. We found out they recently got married and he just snapped.”
He neglected to mention how the duos reminded him of the friendship you two shared.
It was something that a partner wouldnt understand without immediately jumping to the worst conclusions. It made him think of how that very well could’ve been you two, a man killing you for his own failed relationship and pushing blame on everyone else.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.. You’re safe now, more importantly, he’s behind bars.” Your reassurance made his head nod slowly. “You’re right.” He offered a small smile, his head turning to face you easier. “Do you mind if I sleep with you?”
The question was a silly one to ask, already knowing the answer whenever he was being told to turn off the bedside lamp closest to him. 
You didn’t mind sharing a bed with Spencer, enjoying the comforting presence of a loving companion. Truth be told, you’d always had the tiniest crush on him. He made sure you were okay both physically and mentally, not to mention that he was truly an amazing roommate and friend. He carried a sense of warmth, one that could draw anyone in.
As you began to drift off to sleep, things felt right. 
The feeling of his arms wrapped around your frame always made you feel a sense of safety, not to mention the butterflies in your belly would come to life when he’d pull you closer in the night.
Tonight was different.
You’d been sleeping for a good four hours now, the sounds of labored breathing filling the room from your slumber combined with Spencer’s, his snores not being unbearably loud. However, at some point you two had ended up in a spooning situation, your body being engulfed by his arms as he pulled you tight to his chest.You were stirring awake to the sounds of soft whispers coming from Spencer, his face buried in your neck. 
It wasn’t rare for him to talk in his sleep, you finding it silly at times because you could have full conversations with him. 
In your drowsy state, you hadn’t registered the way his hips were rutting into yours, his hard cock pressing firm against your clothed ass under the sheets. What you did register though, was a warm hand under the sheets trailing up your thigh, warm and wet kisses being pressed against the flesh of your neck. It took his thumb running over your clothed clit that had you jolting to life. 
“Spencer.” Your voice was raised in an attempt to wake him up, thankfully succeeding as his movements slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. 
“What’s wrong?” His voice was deep, laced with sleep.
“You were uh-”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence, Spencer’s realization hitting as he was quickly pulling away, body jolting up. “Oh, my god! I’m sorry.” His voice was at a high octave, his cheeks bright red with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe himself. 
“N-No it’s okay! You were sleeping.” Your body was sitting up, thighs pressed tightly together due to the fact that arousal had already settled in, your panties wet enough just from a small touch and some grinding. 
You were more touch deprived than you thought.
“I’m sorry. I should go to my room. No, I am gonna go to my room.”
“Wait!” 
You didn’t know what had gotten into you, your hand reaching to quickly grab his wrist. “Do you want help?” The words made Spencer’s mouth run dry, winded from just the mere suggestion. “Help?” He repeated, as if he wanted to hear you say it again.
“Yeah. We are both mature adults.”
“For the most part.”
His words made you crack a smile, soft laughter erupting between the both of you. Though as it died down, the sound of Spencer clicking his tongue could be heard. “You’re sure?” He then asked, not completely against the idea. “Because I really like you, Y/N. Seriously, you have no idea.” 
He liked you. You liked him. This was an invitation if you’d ever seen one.
“I’m one hundred percent sure. I have had a crush on you since i met-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before you felt a warm hand cup your cheek, tugging you close to easily connect his lips to yours.
The kiss was filled with need and desire, his hand slowly moving from your cheek and down to your waist. You felt dizzy, the tantalizing nature of his tongue slipping into your mouth as the hunger for more was beginning to bubble under the surface. 
His hands were pushing you back on the mattress, his body now hovering over yours, your body being trapped under his weight. However, you definitely weren’t complaining. As your kiss grew more needy and sloppy, his nimble fingers were trailing up your inner thigh, hands bunching up the nightgown that you were wearing to your stomach. 
The sexual tension hung thick, his fingers continuing to tease your skin that was already burning with desire that was growing into desperation. As his fingertips slowly trailed to your panties, he was slowly pushing them to the side. 
You could feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs as one of his fingers trailed up your slick folds before making their way to your clit. “You’re already so wet, fuck.” Spencer wasn’t one to swear, normally being reluctant to use such language. It was pathetic on how it contributed to the arousal pool. 
His finger was massaging your pearl as if it needed to be polished and put on display, the sounds of your little gasps and moans spurring him on. His hand was moving away from your throbbing clit, chuckling at your whining for more. Instead of saying anything, he was disappearing under the blankets.
His large hands were pushing your thighs apart, lips pressing tantalizing kisses against your inner thighs before his tongue was licking a fat stripe up your slick folds. Your hands were sliding under the sheets, mouth falling open once he was licking and slurping at your cunt, your taste being intoxicating. 
He ate like a man starved, lapping up every ounce of arousal that seemed to gush out of your pussy with every movement. Drinking in everything you had to offer, his jaw was growing wet with the sweet nectar that he’d been so focused on milking out of you. 
It wasn’t long until his tongue was being replaced by two fingers, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as the long digits were putting in the work, his fingers curling and brushing against the spongy button inside of you that had you roughly pushing his face into your slick cunt more. 
His tongue was licking over your clit coupled with two fingers scissoring your tight cunt open was causing your legs to shake, the knot of pleasure inside of your tummy getting tighter and tighter, your pussy walls spasming around his fingers as you were so close to your orgasm.
Then Spencer pulled away.
Before you could voice your frustrations, your open mouth was silenced by two fingers slipping into your mouth. Not needing to be told twice, your eyes were fluttering shut while letting your tongue lap up any evidence of shimmering arousal from his fingers, your moans vibrating around his finger from the taste of slick. 
With a ‘pop’, Spencer was pulling his fingers out of your mouth. “You look so beautiful, Y/N.” His words were soft, only leaning down to connect your lips in a chaste kiss. You were growing impatient, your hands quickly pushing his pants and his boxers down his legs soon after. It wasn’t enough to completely undress him, mainly because you both weren’t waiting that long. 
Spencer let his hand wrap around his hard cock, stroking a few times go get himself hard enough to his liking before tapping the thick tip against your clit, causing electricity to shoot through your body as you shivered softly at the contact. 
“Ready?” He asked, pushing the blunt head past your folds. That was when he was pushing his cock inside of you, your hands gripping his shoulders while you both shared a deep kiss.
The girth of his base had given you a delicious burn, making you hiss at the pleasurable pain. “Fuck. You take my cock so well. Like this pussy was made for me.” He grunted, the filth of his words causing a moan to fall from your lips. Never once did you expect this behavior nor this kind of language from Spencer. 
He was pulling you out of your dazed thoughts as he was slowly rolling his hips into yours, cock nestled inside of your tight cunt.
It was almost as if you could feel every vein, every curve.. It was a sensation that you’d never actually felt before. Who knows, maybe you just paid extra attention because you’ve been dreaming of this moment. 
Those slow thrusts were soon upgrading to harder and faster ones, a cry of pleasure falling from your lips as your head hit the pillow behind you. The sounds of skin slapping together as well as the sinful sounds of squelching from your wet pussy and the moans, whimpers and cries falling from your lips were filling the bedroom.
Spencer continued to ram his cock into your tight hole, a thin shine of sweat on his forehead as he was relentlessly fucking into you. The feeling of your warm, plushy walls convulsing around him was enough for his cock to twitch. He was close and so were you, both of your bodily reactions being dead giveaways. 
As your cunt squeezed tight around his cock, your nails were digging into the shirt he was wearing as you let your eyes screw shut, your creamy cum slowly sliding down his cock and surely making a mess of the sheets while he was giving a few more hard thrusts before shooting long ropes of cum inside of you, surely coating your cervix in the process. 
With a few more sloppy thrusts to ride out both of your orgasms, it wasn’t long until his body was collapsing on top of yours. As he tried to pull away though, your legs were tightening around his waist. “Wait.” She whispered, her head tilting back. “Wanna feel you inside for a little bit longer.” She blabbered out, grip loosening as Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. 
“Hey, Y/N?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you wanna go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” 
“I thought you’d never ask.”
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signedkoko · 5 months
Note
Howdy!
Could I ask for romantic headcanons for what initially makes Blitzø, Stolas and Millie fall for the person they're interested in?
Hope that makes sense lol. Much love to you <3
Blitzo | Millie | Stolas [Romantic]
In which their initial interest in you begins to flourish
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It was a tough mission, one far before Blitzo had formally established IMP
It was just him and his gun, payed hefty cash under a table to take care of a target
He hadn't expected the target would notice him, and the tables would turn so quickly
With his back pressed against the floor, and a gun placed firmly into his skull, he surely thought that was it
But the first shot was drawn not by the target, but another demon wielding an old shotgun
Blood was everywhere, splattered across the ceiling, himself, and you
And good lord, did that crimson ever bring out the colour of your eyes
One of those stupid slo mo scenes in his mind, at least until he realised you'd killed the target before he had- and- wait, why were there two of you?
" Good call on the client for bringing in a backup plan, huh? You ain't bad but you could be better. "
You had helped him back home after that, and to his surprise, split the cash amount equally, citing something about how bait was just as important as the kill
Since then, you were the only thing on his mind, and his new shining obsession
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Growing up in Wrath, Millie was well acquainted with those around her, and found it easy to spot someone who wasn't local
And boy, you were anything but local
The delivery person who dropped off supplies for the ranch from various rings, you looked nothing like the folk around here, far more...modern
Eventually, she happily took up the 'chore' of handling drop offs and pick ups just for an excuse to talk to you, and learn about you
Your stories of the other rings drew her in, feeding the yearning she had to adventure amongst them
Her parents preferred to keep their rowdy girl home, where it was safer, but when you offered to take her with you on a delivery to the pride ring, she begged her parents until they reluctantly agreed
Not that it mattered, she would have snuck out if she had to
You brought her up to the pride ring, showed her the sights and even let her speak to one of your other clients, IMP
Thanks to you, she eventually got a job with them, and she still insists on taking care of any of IMPs drop offs
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Stolas often felt isolated in the place he was pretty much forced to live in and continue to work from day in and out
Always the same faces, the same servitude, the same job, nothing ever changed
The only people he got 'close' to were other royals, since everyone else had to bow their heads to him and followed the speak when spoken to mentality
But like every royal, there were a few ceremonies and festivals he had to attend to where he got to interact with the denizens of hell in a more refreshing manner
That was where he met you, at the winter solstice celebration, which was annually held in the pride ring
You were a descendant of the former event runner, now tasked with welcoming the prince and shifting the temperature cycle of hell through an ancient artefact
Stolas found you far more welcoming than the last, having invited him into your home the day prior so he didn't have to travel so early, and asking him many questions of how his experience of it was in the past
This year, he opened the gate to the mortal sky far wider, and for longer, as a small gift to repay your kindness
He hopes you consider a summer solstice event, so he can see you more than once a year
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Author's Note - Thank you so much for requesting!! I decided to be a lil creative and make something neat up, I hope it was to your liking!
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songmingisthighs · 4 months
Text
Pitiful, You're Pitiful
fic m.list | next >>
ch. i
group : ateez
pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader
genre : angst, mature, smut
word count : 2.9 k
warning : adultery, cheating, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of loss, negative depiction of wooyoung
a/n : happy new year !!
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From your own experience, life is hard. Especially marriages.
Growing up, your mother and grandmother told you to beware of men, of their lips especially be it their kisses or their words. You never quite understood why until you found out what kind of a man your grandfather actually was. Sure, he died surrounded by the people who loves him but as it turns out, those were the people who had decided to forgive him for cheating on his wife.
After learning that, you began finding faults in your family, anything that could make sense as to why your grandpa cheated in the first place. Was it his kids? Was it really his wife? Was it just the fact that he had no self-control? Maybe it was a little bit of everything accumulating until it became too much. So you decide that when you find the man you want to marry and finally settle down, you'll do whatever you can to keep your husband happy and safe. Of course, when you met your husband Wooyoung, you told him about your fear of marriage, and what it can do to people and their relationship. Coming from a good family, Wooyoung couldn't quite understand your worries but nevertheless, he assured you that you didn't have to do anything to make him happy, you just had to be yourself.
You both married young, as soon as you graduated university. You were 21 and in love and didn't want to waste anymore time apart. He was starting his career as a professional dancer and you wanted a chance to travel with him as you worked remotely at a PR firm. But of course, when you got pregnant you stopped travelling with him as stability is better for babies and it sucked for you because Wooyoung's career had just taken off with him getting booked for gigs all over the country and even landing himself a year contract to tour with an idol. Your last semblance of personal life died the moment you gave birth to your first child as you weren't able to juggle the stress of being a PR and a young mother with your husband absent for most of the time. Even with your and his mom's help, things were still hard and maybe it was because he wasn't there and your anxiety got the best of you. But each time he came home, so excited and so in love with you and your child, your anxiety dissipates and it was then that you realized that your marriage wasn't like the failed ones you had heard. Wooyoung was away most of the time but he was still head over heels for you. So that reassured you, that was how you know you had found the perfect, committed husband.
Now, however, 16 years later, things seemed to change.
"Mom?"
You jolted slightly and turned from looking out the window to see your 14-year-old daughter standing in the middle of the staircase. "Dayoung," you called out, clearing your throat as you put the glass of wine on the coffee table next to you, "What are you doing up, sweetie?" You asked as you offered her a smile. Even through the darkness of the living room, you could see her eyes flit from your face to the wine glass and back up to your face again, "What are YOU doing up?" She asked, crossing her arms. You weren't surprised at her curt words, she had always been rather... snippy with you ever since she became a teenager.
It was no surprise that when you gave birth to her, Wooyoung doted on her a lot. After all, she was your first born and she just looked so much like Wooyoung which was his proudest accomplishment. Until your second child was born, that is, which was double his proudest accomplishment. Different from her little brother who is just 5 years old, Dayoung grew up without Wooyoung around much. But whenever he was in town, the two were inseparable, they're each other's partners in crime and Dayoung loved the fact that she always had fun with her dad. You, however, were the disciplinarian, a role you were forced to take because a child can't have two fun parents and what were you supposed to do when Dayoung refused to take a bath after deciding to play in the mud outside? What were you supposed to do when she refused to eat her vegetables? To her, you were the bad guy, the villain, the party pooper, the wet blanket. And you made peace with that, you made peace with your own child vilifying you so bad that she told her 5-year-old brother to be careful with you because you're not going to let him have fun. You let her believe whatever she wants because she grew up to be a very smart girl who is independent, assertive, opinionated, and brave. Sure, she used her qualities against you, but you liked to think that it just meant that she was comfortable enough with you to be like that.
"I'm..." your words trailed slightly when you saw a car nearing your house only for it to drive past, making you let out a sigh of disappointment, "Waiting for your dad," you turned back to her and shrugged, "Now you." Dayoung rolled her eyes and walked to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. It pained you that she was being rather disrespectful, but you weren't about to make an issue of that at 2 am. She even made a show of making eye contact with you as she swallowed the cold water before obnoxiously tossing her used glass to the sink. "Woohyun wanted to pee but you weren't there for him which is not a surprise," she smiled sarcastically before stomping her way back up to her room.
You absolutely love the kid but sometimes you do wonder why she seems to love to torture you with her attitude. To distract yourself, you downed the last bit of wine in your glass before approaching the sink to wash the glasses you and Dayoung used. It had become a habit, cleaning, a way to take control over things you can't really control no matter how much you want things to be in order. You hate being so helpless, wanting to have a good life but not knowing how to achieve it without being perceived as naive, juvenile, or even selfish.
The task had taken over your mind so much that you didn't notice the sound of the front door opening and closing. When you looked up, your heart skipped a beat from what you saw. There he stood, your husband with a bright smile on his face, looking so lovable with his hoodie and sweatpants, making his boyish charm shine even more even through the darkness of the room.
"Hey there, wifey, what are you doing so late? Did you miss me?" he chuckled, making a show of posing at the entrance of the kitchen, making you giggle and shake your head. "Yeah, sure, I miss your stinky self so bad that I stay up hours after putting Dayoung down to sleep," you teased, drying your hands on the towel tied on one of the drawers' handles. Wooyoung faked a gasp and lunged at you, making you squeal and take off to the other side in hopes that you could avoid his grasp. Despite it being so late in the night, you both still ran around the kitchen happily trying to shush one another half-heartedly. Even when Wooyoung managed to grab you and pulled you down on the couch, you couldn't stop giggling out of sheer happiness. You just loved him so much and being in his arms was the best thing you've ever felt.
"..ey? Hey, (y/n)!"
You jolted slightly and blinked twice, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. In front of you, your husband stood by the kitchen doorway like you saw moments before. But he wasn't wearing his hoodie and sweatpants nor did his youthful smile there. He was aged up and wearing attire fit for a young businessman. You remembered that you had put the outfit out for him earlier in the morning; a black knitted sweater with a navy blazer and matching pants. He had asked for you to pick the outfit for him because he was supposed to meet up with investors who want to open another branch of his dance academy in another city.
"Why are you spacing out like that?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow at you. Though he was asking about you, his voice lacked genuine concern or sympathy. It was almost as if he was only asking as a formality. You push those thoughts to the side however and smiled up at him, "It's nothing, honey, I-" Before you could even finish your sentence, Wooyoung's gaze averted back to his phone as he let out a sound that was supposed to simply acknowledge your answer so that he could simply walk away. He had done it multiple times before and lately more frequently, but the sight of his back on you never got easier to see. It hurts because it felt like he was trying to push you away, not letting you get too close to either share yourself with him or even ask him to share himself with you. You wondered what happened to the both of you. It had been a while since he was like this and you have no idea how to fix it.
But still, you weren't the type to just give up. There is no way in hell would you just throw your hands up carelessly and leave things in the hands of fate. Screw that.
Knowing Wooyoung, he would spend his first moments back sitting on the edge of the bed, still in his dirty outfit, answering people he couldn't answer before because he was driving. You took this as a chance for you to get close to your husband, and spend all the time you can spend together because, during the day, he would be busy with work, running an academy with his partners and shouldering the responsibilities of being the sole breadwinner and father which he absolutely loves. On the other hand, you were busy being a stay-at-home mom. Taking the kids to school, making sure they have their lunches, running errands, paying bills, being active in the PTA as how the private school expect mothers to do, making sure Dayoung go to her hakwon by using public transportation while you take Woohyun to his after school activities on the other side, and sometimes you even help Wooyoung's mom around. You barely had time for yourself or your husband and you truly felt bad for it.
You closed the door to your shared bedroom, not surprised that your husband barely reacted but you let it go, you didn't want to focus on that. "So..." You started, going to your side of the bed to turn the lamp off before sitting down, "I saw my friend Eunyoung today, it was the first time since she had her second child. We went to the salon because her mother finally convinced her to leave the child with her and it actually took Eunyoung an hour to finally leave her house." Wooyoung let out a hum of acknowledgement while his eyes were still glued onto his screen, and a smirk played on his face. For some reason, that smirk made you feel uneasy but you swallowed the feeling down, you were on a mission and you were not about to back down just because your gut decided that something was wrong. "I-it got me thinking," whilst unsuspecting, you crawled on the bed towards your husband before you rest your head on his back as your arms wrapped around his waist, making him freeze in surprise, "I... Want to try for a third again," you confessed. Whatever you expect his reaction to be, a scoff and a shove to your arms were not on the list. "Are you crazy?" He stood up before turning to look at you, "You've had your hands full with Dayoung and Woohyun, why would you want more? I thought we agreed after the last time that two were enough?" He was talking to you as if you were careless or crazy and it made your gut twist. The form of your shoulders visibly dropped in disappointment as you look up at him, "That was almost a year ago, honey, I'm fine now," you ensured.
It had been almost a year since you lost your third child. You never even got to know the gender of the baby. You never even got to know how you lost the baby because not even the doctors know. The both of you went into the doctor's office one day, happy and hopeful and when you came out, you were followed by the echoing voice that there was no heartbeat and that it could happen for no reason. You were such a wreck after that, you shut yourself from everyone and Wooyoung had to jump in and take care of you and your kids whilst also dealing with his grief. After all, it was his idea that you reluctantly agreed to. But when you finally overcame your depression over the loss, you had hoped to see that your husband would be glad for you but instead, he drifted further until you got to this point.
Wooyoung was still simply staring at you in disbelief and you think he realized that something was wrong with you, you had something going on in your mind. No matter the situation, one thing that never changed from Wooyoung was how easily he can read you. "I know... You wanted to have another child, Wooyoung, I do and I think you still have not let go of the one we lost and that's why you've been pulling away from me this past year and I'm so done with that, really," You felt your cheeks burn to your eyes and tears well up to the point of almost spilling, but you willed yourself not to. Hearing this, Wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed and his arms folded in front of his chest, "But I have, (y/n), I... Accepted that we lost that one a long time ago and there is no way we can bring that one back." "So then I don't know what's wrong with us! After almost 20 years being together, 16 of which we spent in a marriage, I don't think something can just snap and everything turns to shit. For fuck's sake, Wooyoung we haven't had sex since then! We used to not be able to have our hands off each other and now it's like we don't have passion for each other anymore. So you make the choice here, Wooyoung, either we try for a third and hope that this baby will bring us the joy we seem to have lost in the past year or you and I go through marriage counselling."
The words barely left your lips when Wooyoung shoved you hard enough that you fell onto the bed, bouncing slightly as your back collided with the soft mattress yet you somehow felt hurt. He quickly climbed on top of you and kissed you whilst taking his blazer off of him. "You want a baby? You're gonna get one," he muttered against your lips. After almost a year of not being intimate with each other, you expected the kiss to be passionate and homecoming, not cold and distant. There was no passion in his kiss, it was just... There. The action seemed more like an attempt to shut you up rather than a proclamation of his love. The hands that used to caress every inch of your skin now yanking and tearing at your clothes with no care, he didn't even bother to completely undress you and you could assume that his movements were simply muscle memory. What you did at that moment was not making love, that was simply having sex. Fucking.
Wooyoung was usually very attuned to your body and its needs, each tick and squirm was interpreted correctly in his head and he was able to calculate what to do next to ensure both of your pleasure. Each session of intimacy was always categorized as lovemaking because that was what it was, an expression of unadulterated, raw intimate love. But this? He didn't even realize that he was basically fucking a corpse. At least, that's what you felt like. Lips on your skin, your husband's warmth encasing you, touch lingering, yet you felt nothing short of coldness. Touches that used to be feather-like and careful seem more like restraint now, harsh and emotionless.
Even after you two were done- well, after he was done, you couldn't move. Your husband left you lying on your bed all alone, the remnants of his release staining your thighs and dried once the excess leaked out of you, body sprawled and unmoving while your gaze fixated on the only source of light, the crack from under the bathroom door where Wooyoung was cleaning himself.
Slowly, your eyes closed from exhaustion, both mental and physical. Despite that, your brain wouldn't let you rest, it forced you to fixate on one thing and one thing only:
Your husband, the man whose affection and love is so exceedingly plenty that it just burst out of his body has no more left of them for you which can only confirm one thing.
He was seeing someone else.
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blinkyblinding · 8 months
Text
I don’t see a lot of Tenya Iida love?? idk we need more of it. Here’s some fluff.
I 100% believe Iida wouldn’t realize someone had a crush on him. Oblivious boy.
It’s not that he looks down on himself, but he has other thing to worry about. Class rep, his brother, living up to his title, etc…
So when one day you magically confess? oh boy does it take him a minute.
You and Iida went to the same middle school. However, you don’t have a rich family. You got in on a scholarship and had a sarcastic attitude. You and him barely interacted back then, often with conversations ending in a sarcastic remark on your part and a scoff of disapproval from him.
Once you met again at U.A. You became closer realizing you had a lot of the same passions and interest. Eventually becoming really close, you hung out everyday with Izuku, Ochaco, and him.
Ochaco knew about your crush on him and decided to do what every antagonizing best friend does. “If you don’t tell him, I will.” oh, and she WOULD.
You decide to fake it until you make it. You can do it. It’s just a crush, right?
You feign confidence right up until the moment you and him are alone. “What did you need to see me about?” He asked, blissfully unaware.
Your heart is pounding, your stomach is cramping, your lungs are contracting.. “I really like you, Iida. I don’t just mean as a friend either! I mean it in a romantic sense… too…” you trail off increasingly more embarrassed. You feel yourself cringe.
he stays silent.
“…if you don’t say anything, ill do unforgivable things”
he blinks himself out of his trance. “I… wasn’t expecting this.”
you wince slightly at his statement. “yeah… me either” you laugh slightly trying to ease the tension.
“May I have time to think about this?” he asked oh so politely. like always, a little prince when he wants to be.
“Yea, of course. Just… don’t avoid me completely, okay?” you confirm with a sad smile. If this was the end of your newly found friendship with him then so be it. you’d just have to find someway to torture Ochako.
It was awkward at first. He would talk to you but only really when other people were around or to fulfill his class rep duties.
Then eventually you guys would talk like normal. It continued on like that for a while. So much so, you almost forgot about the whole confession.
He didn’t.
Poor boy was restless. Running through every scenario. What could have possibly made you feel this way towards him? Why? When?
they all flooded his mind.
He normally frowned upon high school relationships. He considered them distractors. Upon his self reflection, however. He realized he hadn’t ever really found himself in a situation to experience one.
Now every-time he ran into you, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Eventually, you consumed his thoughts entirely. How was he supposed to live like this? He’d catch himself stealing glances at you whenever he could. Immediately scolding himself and then continuing to glance.
It became too much, he eventually found time to talk to you alone.
“So.. about us.” He spoke softly.
“So there’s an us?” you responded jokingly, trying to ease the tension. A trait of yours he found himself charmed by.
“I mean, about our relationship? You do understand what I am trying to say right?” He says struggling to find the words.
“Yes, go on.�� you nodded, letting him say his piece.
“I don’t know how long you have felt this way about me… it’s been bothering me. Bothering me so much in fact, I find myself thinking of you all to often. In the most random of times. As if you take up a permanent residence in my thoughts. It’s irritating to say the least. However, because of this I have viewed you in a different light. I believe…” A breathe, to reassure himself.
“I feel the same way about you.” He concluded.
“oh” you said blankly.
“oh?” he asked anxiously. “what does that mean?”
“I.. I really thought you were going to let me down easy”
“did you want me to reject you?”
“Not at all”
“so then… will you let me be your boyfriend?”
“…”
“is this how you felt when i was silent?”
“yes”
“yes? yes you felt this way? or yes to me as your boyfriend?” he asked confused more and more.
“yes” you said with assertion and a smile.
your smile, he thought, was so gentle. he hadn’t seen this before. Actually, maybe he had. He just never looked hard enough. He understood what you meant, without you saying a word.
relief floods over him. “okay” he said calmly as his posture softened.
He was never going to glance at you again. Instead, he decided, when he looked at you, you would be his focal point.
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slashmagpie · 7 months
Text
Gem’s pretty sure Tango’s dungeon hates her.
The other hermits? They get nice, easy artefacts. Lots of embers. They get keys. Gem? Gem gets nothing. Gem gets max clank looking for a key and then pulls out a stinking Pearl of Cleansing, which, she loves Pearl, she does, but she gets more than enough of her neighbour at home, and also she thinks she deserves more than fourteen embers for the pain that she has to go through. 
She’s told Tango, of course, told him to fix his game, but he just laughs and tells her it’s bad RNG. That’s the logical, reasonable explanation, and it makes sense, except it doesn’t. Gem’s seen other hermits get keys just fine. It just hates her, for some reason she can’t fathom.
…Oh, yeah, and there’s the whole… watching other hermits get keys thing.
It’s not—she’s not cheating. Tango had banned exploring the dungeon when not playing the game, through any means: astral projection and dream walking and drones and hidden cameras alike, all of them are illegal and will be met with swift punishment. Gem hasn’t been doing that. She wouldn’t break the rules! But—well, it’s hard to explain. Sometimes she blinks and she isn’t looking through her own eyes anymore. Sometimes she blinks, and she’s much, much larger than her body, and she’s somewhere deep within the dungeon, watching someone else run.
She’s surprised Tango hasn’t caught her yet. She knows he’s there somewhere too, in the dungeon, watching with eyes that aren’t his own. She doesn’t know how she knows that, exactly, but—she knows. It’s like…
Gem can’t sleep much anymore, is the thing. At least not in her own bed. Every time she tries to go home, go back to her base and get some progress done, she finds herself restless and itching to return to the Frozen Citadel. It doesn’t matter that she’s out of shards for the week, or that the queue’s ten people long, or even that there’s no one there—Gem needs to be there. She spends a lot of time in the hallway outside of the entrance, perching in divots in the walls. Sometimes she feels frozen, like her skin’s made of stone, like she’s part of the build itself, and that’s when she blinks, and then she’s somewhere deep, deep down in the belly of the dungeon.
Gem’s not the only one hooked on the game, she knows. She’s not the only one hopelessly addicted. It’s become a bit of a joke now, how Tango is their dealer, allowing them one more hit with every new shard. She’s not the only one who camps out in Decked Out’s halls, just hanging out, watching people play and living vicariously through their enjoyment of the game she won’t get to experience again until next week. But it’s not—it’s different—the other hermits get keys, is the thing. The other hermits… 
The thing is, Gem’s noticed frost creeping up her fingers, frost that doesn’t melt when she breathes on it, frost that doesn’t rinse away when she dunks them in water. She’s noticed—something. Under her skin. Writhing and craving and only briefly satisfied when someone fails to survive the dungeon. She’s noticed the hatred. She can feel it deep in her bones whenever she’s within the dungeon’s walls.
So—Gem knows that the dungeon hates her. She knows. And she knows because she can feel it, because she’s…
Well. She doesn’t know. She’s something. She’s…
She should talk to Tango. If anyone would know, it would be Tango, with his permanently frost-covered skin, and strange absent episodes, and his near-perfect knowledge of the dungeon. If anyone would know what’s happening to her, it would be…
Gem should go and ask him. She really, really should. Before whatever this is gets any worse.
She tucks herself into her corner, the divot where the wall bends in, and waits, a statue in the hall. Through eyes that aren’t her own, she watches, and quietly seethes as Cub acquires a key.
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ladykailitha · 4 months
Text
The Magic of Christmas Part 2/8
You know how in the first part I told you Steve's experiences were a lot like mine? Well his opinions on alignments in D&D are also mine.
Just the best friends looking out for our boys. They'll come around.
Part 1
***
Eddie came bounding up the stairs to his loft, contract clutched in his hand. He threw open the door to see Chrissy on their sofa munching on leftover Chinese food right out of the box.
“Sir Edward the brave!” she greeted. “How went the meeting with the dragon?”
Eddie tipped over the arm of the couch, landing face first next her, his legs bent at the knee straight in the air.
Chrissy ran her fingers through his hair. “That bad?”
Eddie held up the paper and she took gingerly. She set her food down on the coffee table and began to read the contract.
“Shit, Eddie,” she whispered. “This is insane. He’s basically offering to pay for all your bills for the next six months so you can work on his commission without worry.”
“Aswllasexpnses...” he mumbled into the sofa cushion.
Chrissy’s eyebrows shot up. “All your paint, brushes and canvases?” Eddie nodded. “Is this guy touched in the head? Like more money then sense?”
Eddie brought his knees underneath him like a worm and sat up. “No. He’s really sweet. I looked him up on the way to the meeting. He inherited the business and his money from his dad. The business actually lost money for the first two years he took over because he made the company private again. He bought all the stocks and closed it on the stock market. Then spent those two years doing away with all the shady business shit that his old man had built the business on.”
“An ethical business man?” Chrissy asked skeptically. “Isn’t that like an oxymoron or something?”
Eddie shrugged. “I guess. But seriously he was super sweet and like is my biggest fan. Like unironically.”
She blinked at him. “And he doesn’t want anything...well sexual from you?”
“We joked about that,” Eddie said with a huff of laughter. “But no. He’s just painfully earnest.”
“Oh my god,” she hissed. “You’re already half in love with this guy, aren’t you?”
Eddie blushed. “I’m trying hard not to be. Like really, really trying.”
Chrissy sighed. “You better take it. You know you won’t be able to live with yourself if you turn this down. What’s the subject matter?”
“D&D.”
“Christ!” she spat. “If there was a honey trap designed especially for you, this would be it. Hot guy, because he is, isn’t he?” Eddie nodded, pursing his lips. “Hot guy, rich, willing to pay for everything for six months for you to do a major D&D piece. The only thing that would make it perfect is kids or your NSFW shit.”
Eddie blushed. “It’s not exactly kids. But the painting is for these guys he used to babysit when they were kids and they’ve had these characters since they were fucking twelve.”
Chrissy sighed. “Are you should you’ve never met this guy, because hot damn, Eddie, he’s got you all figured out.”
Eddie barked out a laugh. “I think I would remember that face if I had. He is too good to be true, sure. But like you said, there is no way I’m going to get a better offer this year. This lifetime even.”
She grabbed her purse from the side of the couch and dug around for a pen. She pulled it out and handed it to him.
Eddie nodded and signed the contract. There. It was done.
*
Their next meeting was a bit more formal. As in it was actually on the books instead of Steve trying to get around Robin so she wouldn’t tease him about hiring his favorite artist to paint something for his little nuggets.
Eddie had pulled his chair up to the desk so that he could put his notepad on it. He cracked his knuckles.
“All righty,” he said cheerfully, “whacha got for me, Stevie?”
Out of another leather folio Steve pulled out four pieces of paper and slid them over.
“These aren’t the originals,” he explained. “I got Dustin’s mom who works at the library to make copies while he was in class.”
Eddie picked up the papers and gasped. “Their character sheets! Holy hell, man. These are like the holy grail. Why did Dustin have all four?”
“Lucas has the habit of losing his and Mike tends to forget his at home,” Steve explained, “and Will has never done anything wrong in his life, but they all agreed since they play at Dustin’s house all the character sheets are kept there.”
Eddie laughed. “Fair enough.”
This would make it easier to design the characters. By a lot.
Steve bit his bottom lip. “I have something else that might help you, but I don’t know how you feel about basing your art on other people’s work.”
Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”
Steve pulled out another piece of paper, this one showing four characters fighting a beholder. It was good, but not even on the level of Eddie’s earlier work.
“Who did this?” he asked.
“Will,” Steve replied. “But I didn’t want to ask him to do it because it was partly for him, too.”
Eddie nodded. “No, actually this will help.”
Steve lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said with a big smile. “Knowing what they think their characters look like will help makes sure I don’t fuck it up for them.”
Steve relaxed. “Oh that’s great. I’m so glad. I didn’t want to step on anyone’s shoes with this. I really want everyone to be happy.”
“I will do my best,” Eddie promised. “But you know, I have to ask...why a purple dragon?”
“Oh,” Steve said with a blush. “It’s because they can shapeshift into human-like creatures.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you play D&D, Stevie?”
Steve shook his head. “No, but I like to read the handbooks. They’re interesting. Plus, I like looking at your artwork.”
“All chromatic dragons are chaotic evil, you know?” he said with a smirk.
Steve scoffed. “I always thought that was bullshit. If other sentient beings like elves, dwarves, humans and gnomes can be any alignment then so should dragons.”
Eddie laughed. “Only the handbook says that other than humans each race tends toward neutral, chaotic, or lawful.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Which is also ridiculous. It’s like saying only humans can be of any alignment because they don’t live long enough to be set in their ways. Like a dwarf who had lived for a couple centuries couldn’t be chaotic? Or an elf?”
“You certainly have a lot of opinions for someone who doesn’t play,” Eddie said with a smirk.
Steve flushed. “Dustin is one of those people that will steamroll over top of you if you can’t keep up with the conversation.”
“Ah.”
Eddie knew several players that were like that. Most of them were insufferable know-it-all rules lawyers. He had a feeling that Dustin was like that too.
“He’s their wizard,” Steve said. “Mike is a paladin, Lucas is a ranger, and Will is their rogue.”
Eddie nodded as he shifted through the papers Steve had had given him.
“What’s your favorite color of dragon?” he blurted out.
Steve blinked at him for a moment. “It’s really stupid.”
“Hey.” Eddie kicked the desk and he startled. “No limiting yourself. That includes thinking your favorites are dumb.”
Steve blushed deeply. “Yellow. It’s my favorite color. Plus it’s super rare. Then I found out chromatic dragons are all evil...”
“And suddenly your favorite is considered sus,” Eddie said with a nod of his head.
“Also how are metallic dragons the good ones?” Steve asked. “Like wouldn’t they be the greedy ones?”
Eddie smiled. “How many people told you picking the gold dragon was the same as picking the yellow one?”
Steve’s jaw dropped. He licked his lip slowly and then bit down on it.
“All of them, huh?”
Steve nodded. “It’s ridiculous. But I just don’t think that gold and yellow are the same color.”
“Oh they absolutely aren’t,” Eddie said, his smile growing wider. “And if anyone gives you hell about it send them my direction.”
Steve clasped his fingers together and leaned on his forearms. “That’s something else. They are going to find out that I am meeting with you on reg.”
“So what’s the cover story?” Eddie asked.
Steve ducked his head and Eddie’s eyebrows shot up.
“I was thinking of your charity, Roll for Initiative,” he admitted. “My kids...I can’t keep calling them that, they’re adults. But anyway. Having a large empty house for them to play D&D in when they kept getting kicked out of places to play. First their high school and then Mike’s parents house.”
Steve shrugged.
“But I know they were lucky because they had me. And I know that kids just like them would be kicked out their schools and libraries in the most conservative parts of the country. If they were allowed at all. I want to help you branch out more than just local.”
It was Eddie’s turn for his jaw to drop. “You want to help my charity?”
He had been wanting to take it on a national level, but never had the manpower to do it. And here was Steve offering to do just that.
Steve nodded. “Yeah,” he said with smile. “Just let us handle it. And we can combine meetings to go over the charity and you can show me your progress on the paintings.”
Eddie nodded back. He didn’t have the words. He squeaked his goodbyes and left.
Chrissy was going to freak.
*
Robin watched the flustered Eddie head to the elevator with more than a passing interest.
She calmly got up and walked into Steve’s office without even a knock or any notice she was coming in.
Steve raised an eyebrow at her.
Robin slid into one the chairs into front of his desk. “You gonna to keep blowing that poor man’s mind or are you going to ease up at some point so that he has the capacity to do this painting of yours?”
“I did my homework when it comes to the guy,” he huffed, “so what?”
Robin’s eyes went wide. “You put less effort into wooing your dates then you did trying to get this painting done. You have to see that’s a problem.”
“Only if you make it one,” Steve groused. “I admire this work.”
She scoffed. “I’ve seen his work. My personal favorite was female elf getting pegged by the female orc barbarian.”
Steve blushed. “Shut up. You know it’s not like that.”
“Do I?” she pushed. “This isn’t lord of the manor fucking his live-in artist.”
“I’ve already made that joke,” he sniffed. “He found it funny.”
Robin snorted. “He seems like the kind that would. Only it’s not funny if he hollers sexual harassment.”
He had been facing to the side and he turned his chair to face her directly. “That implies two things. That I’m trying to get into his pants and that he would be against it.”
“It wouldn’t matter if he consented, Steve,” she hissed. “You literally own him. He is a kept man.”
“You can’t have it both ways!” Steve snapped. “Either I’m paying for all of him, including sex or he can’t consent because I’m his boss.”
She threw her arms into the air. “Why are you even doing this?”
He glared at her. “I don’t have ulterior motives. I just wanted to do something nice for the kids. They’re going to be spreading far across the country after they graduate from college. Some to get advanced degrees, others to start their careers. I just want something special that they could take with them to remember everyone by.”
Robin sighed. “Okay. I get it. You’ll miss them, too. I keep forgetting they’re not the little twerps that used to beg for rides.”
“Yeah.”
She reached over the desk and took his hand. He gave hers a squeeze.
“I’m going to miss them something fierce.”
“I know, dingus,” she murmured. “I know.”
***
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000
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akutasoda · 3 months
Note
Noticed ur requested are open so I gonna the idea I had so got inspired by Genshin archon quest and I was in love furina charcter and sm wondering if u can like crossover type request if ok with u
So I was wondering if I may request a Dan heng / IL X fem Reader
Where reader is basically similar to furina maybe Reader
was tasked by hydro archon focalor maintaining the guise of an Archon; as a new "human", she had difficulty taking the role but eventually mastered it. Additionally, a curse was placed upon her, rendering her unable to die so long as Focalors lived, but also preventing her from pursuing her own happiness. Reader is Aware of the prophecy that would doom Fontaine so reader has to play the e role of Hydro Archon for 500 years . maybe the astral express landed like in new universe tevat Fontaine and trying to figure out the new world maybe Dan heng Mets Reader noticed her and like feels connect to her due to him having experience past burdens and he can tell something up with can see right through reader act. Wants to get to know her maybe reader and how to help her and
Maybe reader like has momment alone to herself crying carrying this burden not be able to show it until Dan heng shows up but reader is stubborn to show or to tell her burdens maybe she goes to trial for being fraud and the express and Dan Genf have to help reader if this makes sense
(This idea I had in mine but I hoping romantic fluff comfort fic but also lore wise I hope this makes sense again if this too difficult of request I can change it I just like hope this is ok
Aslo furina supremacy love her
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a preferred outcome for a doomed prophecy
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synopsis - maybe the prophecy wouldn't turn out all that bad
includes - dan heng ft express crew + neuvillette
warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns mentioned howeve), reader is based on furina, fluff, angst with some comfort, maybe ooc?, wc - 1.5k
a/n: ahhh im so sorry this took so long!
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the express had experienced all sorts of worlds within the galaxy, some not even taking form of planets but rather ships and such. each and every one housing a variety of colourful characters and deep history that spurred the current state it resided in. but they all had one thing in common, they all had a page in the expresses data bank.
the memories however, travelled with the trailblazer that experienced them. and after trailblazing for so long nothing seemed out of the ordinary when the express had an unexpected malfunction and needed to dock at the nearest planet - it wouldn't be the first time. however one would only need to take a step outside to realise that something indeed was different.
you were aimlessly wandering around the vast halls behind the court, looking for something to satiate your boredom. recently the lack of trials had bored you half to death and more annoyingly gave you less things to think about so, more often your mind would drift the the prophecy.
but you wanted to shake these horrid thoughts and push them to the back of your mind. and your wish was soon granted when you heard the voice of fontaine's ludex call your name from behind you. your initial reaction was to turn around with the biggest grin and address the man in front of you but he looked more somber, more serious than usual.
he kept his words short and brief and urged you to follow him to help with a situation that he claimed 'shouldn't get out of hand' or 'into public news'. and while you did follow immediately, your mind resurfaced the ideas of the prophecy and assumed the worst - maybe today was the day?
and as much as you tried to force yourself to not assume the worst, you couldn't stop the rapid pit of dread forming in your stomach.
you were your nations archon. and so it seemed only appropriate that you were the first person to greet the newcomers from beyond your world. all your boredom soon dissipated as you became rather eager and intrigued about your nations new visitors - but all questions would have to wait until you got the express members into your proper office.
and you had managed to get them there with minimum stares and whispering from your nations residents. you felt as though this issue was definitely better tackled within the confines of your private office. and based on what the lady named himeko had briefly told you, it seems you made the right call.
you had been introduced to all the members, seeing they would be staying here for quite a bit it'd only be polite - you may have additionally asked alot of questions as it wasn't everyday you met people that travelled through space. you also told them a tad about yourself and offered some background information about your lovely nation.
you welcomed them to look around and told them to not hesitate to ask for any help. in turn, himeko told you about the expresses data bank and gestured toward dan heng who you had been told compiles most of it. you expressed how you would be honoured you nation would be included.
over the next few days the express came to learn that they would not be leaving for a few weeks, but out of all the express members the one you had encountered the most was dan heng. he had gotten himself quite well acquainted with neuvillette and so you saw him often - mostly on his quest to fill out the data bank. and from your very first interaction it seemwd as though you both were doomed to get along.
over the first week, you and dan heng often conversed to the point ehere it seemed as though you had known him your entire life. neither of you could explain it but there was something there, something that made it easy for the two of you to converse - much to the expresses shock.
dan heng was quite surprised himself but he had grown accustomed to your presence in an alarmingingly short period of time, but there must've been a reason for this right?
he had a very strong, natural sense of perception - so much so that he could tell something was bothering you. no amount of happy go lucky attitude could fool him into thinking something didn't plague your mind constantly and because he had barely known you, he didn't say anything. it wasn't his place, he would tell himself.
but he could hardly ignore it when he walked in to your sobbing form. it had only been two weeks and the express was near ready to depart, so dan heng wanted to collect some final information. he had wanted to know more about the residents and who better to ask than you. he found neuvillette and asked where you were, he was told your office. when he arrived at your office he knocked, knocked again and knocked again. but each time was met with silence, normally he would've turned around and assumed he went the wrong way but he had heard sniffling on the other side of the door, so he opened it.
your head immediately whipped around upon hearing your office door creak open and you were left shocked at the sight of dan heng. you immediately swiped your eyes of any lingering tears and asked him in a meek voice that he should 'come back at a better time' and how he should 'seek out the ludex for anything at the moment'. dan heng wanted to protest, sure he wasn't the best at comforting people but it was clear that you needed some support. but he left.
and that wasn't the last time. only a few days later did he re-emerge in your office just to catch you crying as you stared aimlessly at the mirror that, for a brief moment, he swore had another reflection in eerily similar to you. now more than ever did he want to help. he had briefly heard you mumbling about some prophecy and he could immediately gather that this was some sort of burden you carried.
now, he knew a thing or two about carrying burdens, he knew how tormenting and stressful they could be - he did have frequent nightmares afterall. and even though he had know you for a mere few weeks, he wanted to help. afterall, wasn't it the trailblazers mission to help those across the galaxy?
unfortunately himeko and welt helped remind him of a painful reminder. once the express was up and running, they would leave and the likelihood of him ever seeing you would be close to none. and no matter how much he would talk about atleast trying to help now, if you didn't let anyone know what was your burden, no-one could help.
it was the last day in your nation, for the express and for you. the express were set to part and dan heng wanted to bid you farewell but only neuvillette showed to bid them farewell. neuvillette expressed how you had told him to relay your goodbye message. but even so, neuvillette also knew some of the prophecy and he encouraged them to go despite their joint insistence on thanking you - if they didn't leave soon, they too would be washed away in fontaine waters.
but the express crew knew something was up by now. and very reluctantly neuvillette told them of the prophecy after their insistence that they travelled worlds to help people and so if they could do anything they would. neuvillette expressed how nothing could be done. but dan heng wasn't so deterred.
however, it seemed as though the celestia herself had taken a form of pity. the prophecy didn't come true. and despite your trial going ahead and you being found guilty, you weren't to be executed. neuvillette still gained full control of hydro and sovereignty and forgave the sins of the residents of your nation but in turn he found a way to forgive yours aswell.
due to dan heng's insistence of helping you, it spurred the rest of the express to want to try just as much. and so neuvillette was offered with the idea of you joining the express. this way you could be free from the curse and still live out the rest of your days, and neuvillette allowed it. it was still your final decision however but you gladly accepted.
you still felt sorrow of having to leave some people behind, namely neuvillette, but he encouraged you to go - he would've of been in much pain to see you die. and your connection with dan heng seemed to pull through once more. as the instant you saw him you ran to give him the biggest hug anyone could offer in thanks for everything he did and he gladly reciprocated the action.
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