#I got injured from them plenty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettyflyforawhitelie · 2 months

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Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do.

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong.

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them.

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down.

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable.

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room.

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt.

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you.

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life.

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice.

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever.

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets.

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits.

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp.

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different.

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited.

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him.

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings.

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder.

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk.

You could see something change in his eyes.

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms.

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success.

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING.

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you.

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail.

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Charlie Morningstar xreader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #lucifer x reader #sir pentious x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #helluva boss #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #injured reader

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mochinomnoms · 4 months

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Do you think humans in twisted wonderland have periods? What if they don't...

What if AFAB!Yuu is the only one in twisted wonderland to have periods and it freaks everyone out

Evolutionarily speaking it would make sense for the humans in twisted wonderland to reabsorb the unused egg for extra fuel for magic

[cw] - discussion of periods/afab!Yuu but still written as gn [wc} - 1,792 Added the rest under readmore as it got a bit long. I think there's a fic somewhere on here with this idea, but I can't remember the blog or name, I'll edit and link it later if I find it. I can see the point of the egg being reabsorbed, though personally I think TWST humans are biologically the same as Earth humans, minus the ones with magic maybe having a bit stronger/heighten senses and strengths. After all, there are plenty of humans who aren't magic, I think it's mentioned some point in their book 2 or book 5 that a majority of the population is either magicless or aren't privy to the privilege of formal magical education.

Even if a majority of the human population is magic, there's still a good chunk of them that don't and if that's the case then they at least would have periods.

However, that's explicitly the human population, and in reality it makes absolutely no sense for beastmen or merfolk to have periods. Especially when they have things like heat/ruts or mating cycles. Fae I think would actually make the most sense for the headcanon you're mentioning! They are completely and utterly magic, made from the magic of the earth, animals, and flora given sentience and forms. They are utterly magic, through, and through, so it would make sense for those with uteri to recycle the egg back into them for magical fuel.

And say we're going with the assumption that there are no other afab students in the school, or there are, but they're only beastmen, merfolk, and/or fae, then an afab!Yuu comes as quite a shock.

The beastmen are the first to notice something off with them, as they have the most acute sense of smell. This is followed by a very close second with the merfolk (particularly the predacious ones) and an even closer third by the fae. All the boys from those dorms, minus Lilia who's lived long enough to know what a period is, clock in on their friend who reeks of blood and flesh (because you're also shedding pieces of your uterine lining).

Lord help you, as you're in a crowded area, the cafeteria, with not only them but the rest of their classmates that also smell your blood, because their immediate thought is that you're fucking dying.

Sebek is surprisingly the first to launch himself at you, shouting at the top of his lungs, “WHERE IS YOUR INJURY HUMAN?! YOU ARE SEVERELY INJURED YOU SHOULD BE IN THE INFIRMARY—” Before he is yanked off by a wide-eyed Jack, who's looking more and more like the dead as he leans down to sniff at you.

The blood from his face drains (ha) as he turns to look at Leona and Ruggie, as well as a small group of other beastmen—friend's you've made during the tournament—and nods. This causes them to all look horrified and gaze at you like a wounded puppy. Minus Leona, who just looks amused.

“It's coming from them.”

Still confused, you stare at the Heartslabyul group—who'd been eating breakfast with you—in bewilderment. They also look at you in confusion, except for Riddle, the latter of which pinches the bridge of his noses and takes a deep sigh.

“I think you're all being a bit dramatic, they're just on their—”

“DRAMATIC? I DON'T THINK YOU'RE BEING DRAMATIC ENOUGH!”

Floyd grabs you from behind, spinning you and shoving his face so close to yours that you noses are smushed together.

“Shrimpy… you gotta tell me who did it, cause I could tell from aaaaall the way in the hallway that ya hurt. Com'on! Tell Floydie, I promise I won't be mad.”

Jade placed a hand on his brother's shoulder as he leans down to chastise Floyd.

“Not now Floyd, the poor thing is hurt, we should take them to the infirmary. Then we can hunt down the dreadful soul that hurt our friend and have them trade their spot.”

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground, yelping and latching your arms around Floyd's neck as he cradles you in his arms. Effectively yanking you from Jack's grip, who immediately growls.

“Floyd! Be careful!”

“Ehhh? Yeah that sounds like a great idea! Let's go now, I'm itching for a good fight, ayhehehe!”

Leona and Riddle shared a look, the former sighed to try and explain.

“Look you idiots, they're not injured, they're—”

“What are you waiting for?” Ruggie interrupted him, annoyed by Leona's unconcerned attitude, instead gesturing to Floyd. “Let's go before they bleed out even more!”

The small group clamored out of the cafeteria, a few more concerned students following after them as they started to hear bits and pieces of the conversation. Leaving Leona and the others in the dust. Deuce piped up.

“… Uh, do they not know—”

“No, most beastmen aren't familiar with periods.”

“I'm guessing merfolk and fae don't either, based on the twins and Sebek.” Riddle sighed, feeling sorry for you.

Leona's ears perked as he heard the shrill shriek of a certain octopus in the distance. Riddle and the others also seemed to hear it as they winced.

“Probably not…”

“…”

“… should we?”

“Yeah, we probably should, before my boys wreck the school. Let's get Crewel.”

It took a whole hour of you reassuring the small crowd that had formed around your bed in the infirmary before anyone calmed down. Floyd and Jade were being constantly pulled back into the infirmary by the ear by the nurse, who kept telling the two to stop trying to go beat up the imaginary person that, quote unquote, “hurt you”.

“What do you mean Shrimpy isn't hurt? I can smell the blood from all the way down the hall!”

“Yes, it's quite a potent scent, and distinct to our dear Prefect.” Jade held his hand to his chest as he sniffled. “We've smelled it before when they've gotten hurt, but this is a whole different level.”

“Yeah! Almost all of Savanaclaw could smell it” Ruggie nodded in agreement as Jack followed.

“They must be really hurt if we all could smell it from that far away! You need to help them nurse!”

Their voice's grew again in volume, Sebek in particular, as he vowed to also hunt down the “ruffian who would dare harm a fellow student on the campus Master Malleus attended!”

The nurse, growing more and more annoyed trying to corral the group (she wondered how ethical it would be to use a silencing spell and another to stick them to the ceiling), sighed in relief as the echo of Crewel's whip commanded immediate silence.

“Oh, thank the Sundrop, Professor Crewel, please control them. I am up to here with their foolishness—”

“Foolish? The Prefect might be dying!” Azul cried out, surprisingly attached to your side. She'd tried to yank him off of you earlier, but was met with a shocking amount of strength as his grip on the metal bed frame caused an Azul-sized hand indent to form. His strength, easy to forget in his slender frame. Now, he was trying his best to coax the name of the student responsible with promises of free drinks and discounted food.

“No I'm not!” You cried out in exasperation. “I've been trying to tell you, but y'all won't listen!”

As you tried to get up from the bed, trapped in a blanket cocoon made by Azul, the boys started up again. Half urging you to stay in bed and rest, while the other half argued with the nurse, and now Crewel, about healing you up.

A near ear-shattering rumble of thunder caused another silence to fall over everyone. This time, though, the group shrunk into themselves as Malleus, standing proud and tall, entered the room. Sebek perked up, rushing over to meet him.

“Young Master! I've ensured that the human was taken to the infirmary, but so far they've refused any healing—”

“Thank you, Sebek. I will speak to them myself.”

Malleus, his school jacket flourishing behind him (one of the students murmured that he felt like a background character in a romance movie), flew to your side. Where you had been squirming your upper body out of the blanket cocoon, smacking at Azul's hands as he kept attempting to swaddle you back in.

Now freed waist up, you turned to face Malleus, who had elegantly kneeled down by your bedside (you could hear Sebek muffled a shriek) and held your hand like a delicate piece of china.

“Child of Man, my friend, what happened? Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” Malleus cooed at you, green eyes peering into yours, full of concern.

So it was a surprise to everyone in the room when you groaned, which morphed into a soft scream.

“Uh… Child of Man?”

“I'm fiiiiiine!” You sighed, slumping back into the bed. “I'm just on my period, you guys.”

The room remained quiet, a bit too quiet as you lifted your head back up to look at the room of confused looking men. Crewel had a hip cocked as he looked unimpressed over the crowd. The nurse was rubbing her temples. You heard Azul clear his throat, drawing his attention as he asked,

"What's a period?"

Finally, the crowd had settled, all of them huddled around your bed as you tried your best to explain what a menstral cycle was.

"So you like, bleed every month? Randomly?"

"Amount 28 days, so once a month yeah. And now it's not random, it's part of the reproductive cycle. It's my body preps for a new egg—"

"But, I though humans didn't lay eggs?" Floyd asked, leaning against Azul's right shoulder.

"We don't, it's different the egg turns into a baby itself so there's no egg to lay—"

Ruggie spoke up, "We get that, but I don't get why the egg makes you bleed? It can't do that can it?"

"No, no, no. It's not the egg itself, it's my body. In order for the egg to get fertilize it needs a good environment to grow, so the uterus grows a fresh lining once a month for the egg to latch on to, so—"

You sighed as once of the other fae students interrupted.

"Fresh lining? Like, the skin? Of the uterus?"

You nodded, trying to keep your patience as you attempted to explain to your friends that, no, you were in fact not bleeding to death.

"Yes, that's the blood, the skin is shedding to make a fresh one for the next egg."

You don't think it's working, as that last sentence caused a wave of mortifcation amongst the crowd.

"That... sounds like it hurts." Malleus, still holding your hand, softly asked. "You're not hurting though, correct?"

Pursing your lips, you looked up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. Wow had that cobweb always been in that corner?

"Yuu."

Malleus's voice, calling out your name for once, was full of questioning.

"Yeah Horns?"

"it doesn't hurt, correct?"

You started whistling a little tune, studying the dirt under your nails.

"Dear Prefect," Jade this time. "Answer the question?"

The group leaned in closer as you grumbled under your breath.

"Speak up Shrimpy."

".........not always."

"Come on, stop being shy, you act like a puppy most of the time" Ruggie was getting annoyed.

".....cramps..not move...not always."

"It's okay Yuu, you can say it." Azul cooed.

"...Sometimes the cramps makes it hurt too much to move, but not always."

You braced yourself as the crowd once again riled up.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT HURTS TOO MUCH TO MOVE?"

The nurse off to the side still, leaned over to tell Crewel, "I told you we needed an interspecies health class."

hehe this was fun, comments appreciated. I may be inclined to write more since writing different between species like this is fun

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #if you squint its an x reader #mochi fic

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luxaofhesperides · 3 months

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Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke

Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically.

Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries.

It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham.

So.

Danny Fenton is technically innocent.

Duke is trying to prove that he’s not.

Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.

He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native.

There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up.

Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.

He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.

Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras.

But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them…

It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.

A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is.

Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all.

All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.

According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything.

And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own.

He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort.

It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking.

Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight.

He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds.

He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight.

Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—

Danny disappears.

Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground.

The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.

He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading.

It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes.

The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924.

The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom.

He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds.

Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found.

Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?

But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling.

Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.

Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything.

A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface.

Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air.

There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”

He steps back and bumps into Duke.

Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes.

“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”

“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist.

“I just have a few questions!”

“Well, I have a question: why?!”

“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”

Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.

“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”

“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.

He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”

Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch.

“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”

There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”

That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.

“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”

“Ghosts are real, alright?”

“Yes.”

Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”

“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”

“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”

“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”

Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”

“Yeah, those people were already dead.”

The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure.

“They were…”

“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”

“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”

“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”

Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…

“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping.

Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”

“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”

Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts.

“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.

It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow.

He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”

Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions.

Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.

Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen.

“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”

“Cool. I gonna go now!”

He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before.

As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it.

For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER.

If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.

He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #could not do a meet cute/weird in this prompt so i made it a meet disaster lol #heres danny trying to focus on his education!! and then ghosts start popping up asking for help bc gotham wont let them leave #so danny has to make a few contraptions to be able to help them (mostly ecto tracking/measuring/containing) and it looks SOOO sus #the ghosts also have a weak ecto sense which is how they find him bc hes FULL of ecto #and that means hes robbing houses during the day/late evening bc the night is for homework and stress #duke is just... trying his best lol.#sorry if the last part of this is rushed or confusing i am slightly sick and can Not focus #anyways i hope u enjoy!!#thanks for the prompt!!

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ghosthunterbuck · 26 days

Text

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

#i have returned and i come bearing fic #i straight up don't remember my tagging system so #oh well #911 #911 abc #911fic #buddie #buddiefic #911 spoilers #abbie writes #its a coda friends you know what im about #also i'm gonna revive the tag list tomorrow so sorry in advance to anyone who sees this and then gets a crazy late tag!!#or doesn't want them anymore lol

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ktgoodmorning · 6 days

Text

"I'm scared"

Alexia Putellas x reader

Part 3 of that awkward smile but also can stand on it's own in my opinion, just kinda in that same universe.

You get injured during the chelsea match and Alexia steps up to comfort you

I Part 1 I Part 2 I

Masterlist

To say you were stressed about the upcoming Chelsea match would have been an understatement. Champions league matches always held more weight to them so you’d always be the first to put an immense amount of pressure on yourself. You were similar to Alexia in that way, always expecting the absolute best from yourself and willing to push yourself to any length necessary to get there, no matter what it took.

But you were ready. That’s what everyone told you. Barça was incredible and you all knew exactly what you needed to do. You had trained for this and knew how to handle the pressure.

You did all your pre game rituals, even getting a quick kiss on the forehead from Alexia once the others had left the locker room. They still had no idea the two of you had gotten back together and at the moment you wanted to keep it that way, knowing Mapi would be fiercely protective over both of you, scared to see her best friends hurt each other once again.

Before you knew it, you were lined up in the tunnel, ready to take the pitch. Mapi was working her way through everyone, giving plenty of pep talks and words of wisdom asshe did so, being sure to make a long stop in front of you.

You were a center back, working hard to fill her shoes in her absence and trying your absolute best. Everyone knew it was a difficult job but you continued to improve and put in the extra hours to make sure you could make her proud. She was always sure to give you some extra advice and hype you up to make sure you knew that she believed in you. You had known Mapi for most of your life and as much as you’d never admit it, her faith in you worked wonders for your confidence and skills on the field. Especially with you still settling in at Barcelona, knowing that she trusted you in her absence made you step up to the plate in a way you hadn’t been able to before.

As she approached you, Mapi took both your hands in hers, looking at you with a rare sense of seriousness that she often didn’t show. “You’re ready for this, amiga. Just do what you do best, quit thinking about anything else, just go play and be the footballer that you are.” She gave you a short nod which you returned to her before pulling her in for a short hug. Soon afterwards, you were being led onto the pitch for the game to begin.

As the game got started, you settled into a pace that was much faster than most of the games you were used to. There was much more back and forth, more speed, and more physicality than you normally played with, both teams hungry for a win which only heightened the intensity further.

It was around the 60th minute when a Chelsea player sent a long ball down the field in your direction, hoping to reach Mayra Ramirez. You, being the closest to her, took off running towards her the second the ball started your way, pushing yourself to catch up with her and using your speed to your advantage. You were able to reach the ball just as it was about to arrive at its intended target, immediately jumping up in an attempt to head it away before Mayra could take control of it.

However just as your feet left the ground, you felt a mind-numbing crack to your temple, clearly coming into contact with something that wasn’t the ball, before immediately collapsing onto the pitch. What you didn’t realize when you tried to take the header, was how close you were to the opposing player who, like you, was jumping up in hopes of getting control over the ball, leading to her head smashing into the side of yours.

You had little to no awareness of the things going on around you as you layed there, curled in a ball, groaning in pain, wishing you didn’t exist. Pain was shooting through your skull with an intensity that made it hard to even pinpoint its origin. All you knew was that it hurt.

Everything hurt. The sunlight in your eyes hurt, making you keep them squeezed shut as tightly as possible. Squeezing your eyes shut caused pain too, but not quite as bad as if you had opened them. You didn’t even have the energy or mental capacity to fully react to the amount of pain you were feeling at that moment, just bringing your hands up to your face as if they would somehow shield you from the pain you were feeling, exhausted, tears unknowingly running down your face.

Game play stopped almost immediately as you and Mayra had both hit the ground hard, her seeming to be in better shape than you currently were. The second she saw your heads make contact, Alexia felt like her whole world came to a screeching halt. It did. You were her world. You had slowly become ingrained in everything she did as over the last couple months you had been together and now here you were, curled up motionless on the grass.

She didn’t even realize it but the blonde had begun sprinting towards you the second you went down, not even waiting for the whistle or giving it a second thought. It was automatic for her, the need to protect you outweighing everything else.

Normally if a teammate went down, Alexia would be the one to argue with the referee about whatever had happened and allow someone else to go comfort the injured player. It’s not like the captain had a reputation for being warm and fuzzy and good with handling people’s emotions. She’d leave that to the others so she could be the stone faced captain she preferred being. But not with you. You were different.

Alexia was by your side in an instant, suddenly no longer caring who knew about your relationship. Keeping things a secret wasn’t even a thought that crossed her mind as she slid to her knees next to you, instantly grabbing your hand in an attempt to provide you some comfort until the medical staff could reach you. Her hands shook as she brushed some hair off your face and wiped your tears, genuinely terrified of what was going on with you. The blank stare in your eyes, paired with your silence and lack of reaction was eerie to say the least.

“You’ll be okay, amor, I’ve got you. The physios are almost here.” It’s like time was moving in slow motion, feeling like they were taking forever even though they were just as prompt as they always were. Your girlfriend’s words were almost more for herself than they were for you. The way you still were yet to react, didn’t call for words of comfort, however she needed to say it out loud, just to hear it for herself. You would be okay. You had to be. She was thinking so many things at once that she couldn’t fully process it all, just fully in survival mode on your behalf.

When the physios reached your side, Alexia moved over to give them some space, still refusing to let go of your hand as they did so. She didn’t notice, but plenty of teammates had given her some weird looks, confused by her sudden concern over you and the way she was expressing it so openly. The look of fear in her eyes was new to everyone, even those she had known her entire life. Nobody had seen the captain looking so unsure of things when she was on the football pitch, normally that was the place where she came across as the most confident no matter what was going on.

The physios did their job, asking you a million questions and trying to examine you as best they could in your current state. Alexia could hardly pay attention to anything they said, far too caught up in her thoughts about what could be going on with you.

You were hardly answering any of the questions, just mumbling soft responses here and there, struggling to focus on their words. Because of your continued lack of coherency, the medical staff decided to stretcher you off- something that didn’t help Alexia’s mental state, doing her best to hide the tears that were welling up in her own eyes. She was still yet to let go of your hand, squeezing it tightly as if her hold on your hand alone could keep you safe as she helplessly watched the medical staff load you onto the stretcher.

The blonde stayed by your side as the staff wheeled you off, only stopping when they reached the sideline where Mapi had come down from the stands to wait for you to take Alexia’s place by your side. Alexia knew that she wouldn’t be allowed to come off yet. It was the Champion’s League and everyone knew there wasn’t the wiggle room to mess with the subs more than absolutely necessary. As much as it killed her to see you go without her, she knew she didn’t have another option and at the very least, she was grateful to know Mapi would be by your side the whole time.

When they paused at the sidelines with you, Alexia took the opportunity to give your hand a tight squeeze before bringing it to her lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. “You’ll be okay amor, I’ll see you as soon as this is over. I love you, okay?” She didn’t expect a response given your current state but appreciated the weak attempt at returning a squeeze of the hand to her. Mapi froze for a second, giving her a look of confusion over what she had just seen from her best friend before giving the captain a reassuring pat on the shoulder and taking Alexia’s spot by your side.

Everything after that was a blur for you, only knowing that the medical staff were busy performing tests on you, doing what they could to make sure you were okay. You became more and more aware of your surroundings as they did so, feeling the shock of the incident slowly starting to wear off. They decided you wouldn’t need to go to the hospital and that it appeared to be a grade two concussion, paired with the sudden shock of the injury. While you’d still spend longer than you’d like on the sidelines, it was a much better outcome than anyone was expecting given the state you had been in when it happened.

Once the physios had finished their tests, they gave you some medication for the pain and let you doze off on one of the treatment tables, snuggled into Mapi’s side while the game ended. The second the final whistle blew, Alexia was sprinting off the pitch with the sole intention of finding you, ignoring any other responsibilities that might have been awaiting her.

She burst through the door to the training room, expecting to be told that they took you to the hospital, stopping herself only when she saw you sleeping peacefully against Mapi. For the first time since you went down, the blonde was able to take a deep breath and calm down now that she had seen you looking relatively okay.

“Ssshhh, Ale, she’s asleep. But she’s okay. Grade two concussion, and plenty of shock but she’ll be okay, that’s all it is.”

“Gracias a Dios,” Alexia’s shoulders visibility relaxed as she let out a heavy sigh, having assumed the absolute worst for the last half hour.

“What’s going on between you two? Are you back together or something? Cause I really don’t think-”

“Si, Mapi,” The blonde rolled her eyes at Mapi’s reaction, knowing it was exactly what had prevented you from telling her earlier. “I know you’re worried about her but I promise it’s different this time. We’re both in a completely different place now, and we’ve talked about it a lot, and it’s going amazing, Mapi. I promise you. I will not do anything to hurt her.”

“You better not, juro por Dios. I’m so serious, Alexia, if you do anything-”

“I won’t! I swear, Mapi. I could never do that to her again. It kills me that I even did it the first time. This time is completely different, I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone before.”

The defender only responded with a very pointed look, clearly not too pleased with the current situation. It didn’t help matters that you were still passed out against her, unable to help your girlfriend reassure her that things were going well between you.

Not wanting to discuss it any further, Mapi slid out from underneath you, carefully allowing Alexia to slide into her place. It was clear you knew who it was, snuggling into her further and grabbing the top of her kit tightly to make sure she couldn’t leave. It didn’t matter to you that she was drenched in sweat and smelling rough, you just needed her close to you, even if you weren’t awake enough to consciously decide that.

Alexia took your movement as an opportunity to wake you up, gently rubbing your shoulder, and speaking softly as she did so. “Hola, amor. I think we should get you home so you can keep sleeping there, get you more comfortable. Si? You’ll stay at mine so I can make sure you’re okay.”

You nodded weakly, mumbling a somewhat incoherent agreement. The idea of going home with her sounded great but the idea of moving sounded like the worst thing you could imagine at the moment.

She smiled softly at your reaction, knowing that there were few things you loved more than cuddling and that she knew she would have a hard time getting you to agree to get up right now. “You’re so cute when you’re tired and barely making sense, amor. I’ll carry you if you want.”

She sat up further in an attempt to encourage you to join her, hoping to get a better idea of how you were feeling, but wasn’t expecting to see tears pooling in your eyes as soon as she did so. “Ale, I feel horrible.” Your voice was wobbly as you tried to hold in your emotions, suddenly overcome with pain in your head once again.

“I know sweetheart, I know. I’ve got you though, okay? I’ve just gotta get you home and then I’ll take good care of you and let you rest more. Is that alright?”

You nodded, looking and feeling more broken than you ever had before. “Could I please just hug you, first? Then we can go.”

Your words made her melt, suddenly aware of how much you needed her support right now, allowing you to collapse into her arms. “Shh, I’ve got you. It’ll be okay, I promise. You’ll be alright, mi amor, you’ll be alright.” She rocked you gently in a way that almost seemed to dull the pain you were feeling. This moment in her arms was the best you had felt since you hit the ground, and it did more than you ever could’ve guessed. Something about being in her arms seemed to work better than any prescription ever could.

When you pulled away from her, she gently wiped away your tears, once again pushing your hair back away from your face. “I’ll see if Mapi can grab our stuff and then we’ll meet her at the car okay? Do you want a sweatshirt or anything?” You were both in your kits still and Alexia knew you enough to know that you always ran cold and preferred being snuggled up in a big sweatshirt. Your only response was a pouty face, sticking your bottom lip out at her with your best puppy dog eyes as she gave you a smile and shake of her head in return. Of course Alexia knew exactly what you were implying with that face. It was your subtle (or not so subtle) way of requesting a sweatshirt of hers instead of your own. “I’ll get you a sweatshirt and let Mapi know that we’re ready to leave. Then I’ll come get you. Okay?” You nodded at her which she acknowledged with a quick peck on the lips before leaving the room, giving you the opportunity to lay down for a few more minutes while you waited.

You must have slightly dozed off by the time Alexia returned to you because you awoke to the sound of the door opening once again. “Feeling any better?”

You squinted slightly, trying to let your head adjust to the lights in the room. “Ale, you were gone for like five minutes, why would I feel any different?” The words carried more attitude than you intended, too far distracted by the pounding in your skull, but your girlfriend seemed to be unphased, just shrugging off your words before helping pull her sweatshirt on over your head.

Once you seemed to be more comfortable, she turned so her back was facing you, bending down slightly so you could climb on, piggy-back style. “Hop on, I’ll carry you to the car, amor.” So you did just that, climbing on and then burying your face into the side of her neck, partially to block out some of the light, partially because you just wanted to be as close as possible.

When you reached her car, she gently set you down on the passenger seat, making sure you were comfortable and buckled before leaving a kiss on the top of your head to go to the driver’s side. As soon as she sat down, she reached to hold your hand, giving it yet another reassuring squeeze. Although the silence between you provided some relief from the pounding in your head, It also sent you into a spiral of anxiety thinking about what this concussion might mean for you.

Alexia quickly noticed your change in demeanor as she drove and how you went from mostly asleep in a comfortable silence to staring into space, clearly filled with tension. The fact that you were suddenly more awake was her biggest red flag given that you had been in and out the entire time she’d seen you. The panicked Alexia that had appeared when you first went down seemed to be back and filled with concern over you once again. “Hey, are you okay? Is something worse with your head, amor? What’s wrong? Do you want me to pull over? I can pull over if you want?”

“I don’t know, I’m just scared I guess.” You gave her a grim shrug that did little to calm her nerves, still looking at you expectantly, trying to figure out how to help.

“Scared of what? You’ll be okay, they said most of your symptoms should be getting better already in a few days.”

“Not about that, Ale.”

“Then what…” the blonde trailed off, clearly confused as to what you were saying.

When she seemed to not be catching on, you let out a sigh, dreading saying the words that had come to mind. “It’s just that last time we dated, injuries are part of what tore us apart. We couldn’t deal with the stress of them. I’m just scared that that might happen again.” You paused, trying to put your thoughts into words, “I can’t lose you again, Alexia. So I don’t know if I should stay with you and I don’t know if we should do this, because I don’t think I can handle that again.” Your voice cracked as you went silent once again, both of you simmering in what was just said. By the time you finished speaking she had pulled into the driveway so she could now turn to face you, cradling the side of your head in her hand. The warmth of her large hand provided you comfort as you leaned into her touch, letting her support your head even more.

“Amor. I know it’s scary, I do. But I never plan on letting you go. Not ever. I promised Mapi that while you were passed out earlier and I’ll promise you that. We talked about this, we were both different people then. We are both more mature, stronger, kinder, smarter, and better. This is not the same.” You finally looked up to meet her eyes for the first time that night. “And I think you know that, amor. I love you, so, so, so, much. It’s okay to be scared, I’ll carry enough faith in us for the two of us. But at the end of the day, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. There’s a reason we got back together, si?”

It was rare that you saw Alexia get so sentimental and emotional but something about you seemed to bring out that side of her. “Gracias, Ale,” she leaned forward to give you a gentle kiss. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously.” She interrupted you with more kisses in an attempt to pull your mind away from your anxieties and back to the present.

When she pulled away, Alexia was relieved by the small smile that had appeared on your face, the first she’d seen since before the game today. “Now let’s go inside, we can take a bath and get you some comfier clothes, and get you all snuggled up to go to bed. I’ll hold you as much as you want, I won’t go anywhere.”

You gave her a small nod, before slowly leaving the car and following her inside, ready for a night with Alexia all to yourself and ready to take care of you. Your head still hurt, but if there was one thing that could make it feel better, you knew it would be your girlfriend and the hardcore pain meds you’d been given.

might end up doing one more for this but we'll see :)

Requests are always open

Masterlist

#barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barca femeni #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt #espwnt x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #futfem #wosoreadingalexia #wosoreading24/7

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luv4fushi · 1 year

Text

secrecy

jjk megumi fushiguro x fem!reader

hiding your relationship from your loudmouth friends and your energetic teacher is harder than it seems.

content: fluff, established/secret relationship, aged!up megumi (16/17 years old), there is implied/suggestive content because teenagers do stuff (come on, we all know that) but it’s not written out!!! yuji and nobara get the wrong idea and tease the hell out of megumi, that’s all!

wc: 2.1k

click on my masterlist for more!

meeting up after classes are over is always hard.

yuji and nobara are insistent in their spots between the two of you. yuji stays glued to megumi’s side and nobara sneaks her way in between you two. it’s a surprise that neither of them have caught on yet.

megumi’s sudden confession had been blurted out from the doorway of your dorm. you both had been in a pretty gruesome fight; you had needed stitches despite shoko using reverse cursed technique on you, and megumi was injured with a slight limp. he’d been worried even though you paid your wounds no mind.

“take care of yourself,” he’d said through gritted teeth. “i care about you more than you think.”

it had been out of pity more than anything; he had walked you to your room, believing it was his fault that you’d nearly been killed.

still, you acknowledged the warm words through his usual gruffness.

that had led you to today, with yuji and nobara arguing between the two of you. you want nothing more than to relax in your dorm with megumi’s head on your chest, running your fingers through his messy black hair. he’s got a knack for nuzzling into you, breathing in your scent and peppering kisses along your collarbone. it’s his way of telling you he loves you.

“so what d’ya wanna do then?” nobara huffs, frustrated.

“you just said no to every single restaurant i recommended. why don’t you choose?” yuji whines.

nobara crosses her arms. “i’m not choosing because you’re gonna say no.”

“that’s not true,” yuji deflects, furrowing his brows. “i just told you, i don’t care where we eat.”

“i’m gonna head back,” megumi says, clearing his throat. “i’ve got a mission tomorrow and i wanna get some sleep.”

it’s an obvious excuse, at least to you. megumi isn’t lying, though; he has to visit a train station tomorrow to get rid of a nasty curse that’d been formed from an accident. it’s overgrown and estimated to at least be a grade 1 curse, so megumi is being sent by himself because gojo trusts that he can handle it smoothly. megumi is a grade 1 sorcerer, after all, and lately gojo has been trying to get him reevaluated as a special grade.

“you guys have fun,” you announce shortly after megumi trudges away. “i’m gonna go finish my book before my sparring session with maki.”

“whatttt?!” nobara groans. “maki said she was gonna hang with me! someone isn’t telling the truth and i know it’s you!”

you cringe, knowing you’ve been caught in your lie. “oh, that’s right. the session is tomorrow.”

“if you or megumi aren’t going then i won’t go either!” yuji pouts.

“what was the point of us walking all the way out here?” nobara smacks him on the back of his head. “whatever! i’m going to find maki. maybe she’ll wanna eat with me.”

“the third years aren’t gonna hang with you, loser,” yuji says, sticking his tongue out at her.

nobara responds by flicking him off over her shoulder. she’s already long gone by the time you and yuji bid your goodbyes. you take your time on the way back to your dorm, shuffling your feet against the pavement as slowly as you can. the last thing you want is to catch up to yuji on your way to the boys’ dormitory.

you take a quick look around once you start to get close to megumi’s dorm. the sun beams down at you and you begin to sweat nervously. you’ve done this plenty of times before, but it still makes your nerves jitter.

the coast is clear. the bushes don’t seem to be hiding anyone. there doesn’t seem to be a person hiding behind any corners. you make a run for it, nimbly skipping toward the boys’ dormitories. you make a beeline for megumi’s door, which is the furthest one at the end of the hall. yuji’s dorm is across from his, so you make sure your footsteps aren’t too loud. you tap on the doorframe four times, a signal you’d unknowingly came up with in the weeks you and megumi have snuck into each other’s rooms.

megumi swings the door open, his face brightening as he pulls you in. he wastes no time in burying himself into the crook of your neck, inhaling your comforting scent.

“god, i was hoping they’d leave without us back there,” he sighs into your neck. “it took you so long to shake ‘em off.”

your lips stretch into a pretty grin, and megumi nearly melts at the sight. you ruffle his hair and press a kiss onto his redden cheek. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

megumi would’ve cringed had it been any other couple, but it’s you and him, and all the sweet words you two whisper make him adore the cheesiness of the relationship. he takes you by the hand and nearly crushes you as he lays the both of you down.

napping together is a common occurrence for the two of you. it’s not like you can waltz out with your fingers interlocked because gojo would make fun of you both for the rest of your lives. dating as a jujutsu sorcerer is hard enough, and you two would rather not add him into the mix.

“are you sleepy?” you ask softly. you’re trapped in between his toned arms, your face pressing into his firm chest.

he hums. “you mind?”

“not at all,” you say with a small laugh. “but you gotta get up before dinner, ‘kay?”

you feel him nod. “yeah, just wake me up.”

“‘kay.”

the silence is comfortable, as if you’ve known him for longer than you actually have. he lets himself go when he’s around you, and that fact makes you more prideful than it should. there’s something about megumi fushiguro allowing you to see his vulnerable side that makes you feel all the more important. the boy never, ever removes the scowl off his face unless he’s with you.

“need to take off my clothes,” you complain. “i’m all sweaty from today. gojo sensei had me run a few laps ‘cause nobara snitched about me returning to my room late.”

the corner of megumi’s mouth lifts. “that’s why i told you to leave before sunset. see what happens when you don’t listen?”

you shove his shoulder and unseal yourself from his hold, giving him a glare. “you were the one asking me to stay, you idiot. now give me a shirt.”

he pretends to be annoyed, mumbling something under his breath as he reaches for a shirt hung on the end of his headboard.

“a clean one.” you give him a pointed look.

“i thought you liked my smell?” he looks at you through his lashes.

“your smell, megumi, not your sweat,” you deadpan.

he lets out a laugh and it sounds like music to your ears. perhaps this is what the world means when they say love makes you a different person.

he obliges and walks to his drawer. megumi is changed himself: loose sweatpants hanging on his waist lowly. he has on a white t-shirt and the necklace you had gifted him a week prior. megumi hands you one of his sweaters, which is oversized, but it’s the best he can do. you’d rather not go back to your dorm to change.

megumi turns around so that you can change. he’s awkward and beet red, scratching his head in a moment of tenseness. you slip on his sweater and you’re immediately engulfed in his warm scent. the fabric nearly drowns you as you take off your pants.

“do you have any shorts?” you ask, scanning the room.

megumi’s back is still turned to you. “you took those ones back to your room, remember? did you bring them?”

you shake your head, but then remember that he can’t see you. you duck your head in embarrassment, laughing lightly. “nah, but it’s fine. the shirt’s basically a dress anyway.”

megumi hears the sheets rustle and makes a bold assumption to turn around. he’s met with you sprawled out on the bed, patting the empty space next to you as a wordless invitation.

his eyes crinkle when he grins, which is not something you see everyday. you savor the moment and engrave it into your memory. it’ll make you giddy when you remember it tonight as you get ready for bed.

“love you,” you whisper, making yourself comfortable in his embrace. you feel his fingers caress your arm in loving patterns.

megumi pauses for a split second, but it’s long enough for you to notice. he still has a hard time using his words, but you’re in no rush to change that part of him.

“i love you, too,” he replies in a small voice.

“when did you get so corny?” you tease, your eyes fluttering shut.

“you’re being irritating,” he says. you can tell just from the way he puffs out a little breath that he’s rolling his eyes in distaste. “it’s your fault for making me all gross and corny. yuji would never stop making fun of me if he saw us right now.”

“megumi!” a knock interrupts him. it’s yuji, who calls from outside the door. “gojo-sensei needs us real quick! read your damn text messages for once!”

megumi freezes and your head perks up. your eyes are wide with fear and slight amusement. this has never happened before. megumi presses a finger to your lips, shushing you, before he yells out an irritated, “what does he want?”

“he says we gotta go see him in his office! check your phone.” yuji’s voice is muffled. he bangs on the door once more.

your breathing is shallow. there’s a sort of excitement in the air at the thought of possibly being caught, but the anxiety of it all overpasses that. you refuse to move, afraid that the loud sheets will give it away to yuji that you’re in the same bed as megumi.

“is the door locked?” you whisper lowly.

megumi’s eyes narrow. “i… i think so. i don’t know.”

“what do you mean you don’t know?”

“i was excited to see you… i’m not—i don’t remember locking it.”

“i’m sure you did,” you convince yourself out loud, “you always do.”

“and tell y/n that she’s gotta come out too!” nobara’s voice rings out.

you feel your body grow hot in humiliation.

once you’re all in gojo’s office, the white-haired man gives you and megumi a hard stare. he has a lazy smirk plastered on his face, his blindfold pushed down on his neck solely so that he can show off the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“let me make one thing clear,” gojo begins, “no boys in the girls’ dorms.”

yuji scrunches his nose.

“and no girls in the boys’ dorms. we all know this already, don’t we?”

“duh. is that all?” nobara says, shifting her weight on to her left leg. she looks amused.

“y/n,” gojo says, causing your eyes to flicker up at him, “run 30 laps. you’ve broken the rules.”

your jaw drops open. it had been embarrassing enough to quickly throw on your pants and rush out of megumi’s room with nobara and yuji’s smug faces trailing behind you.

“no buts,” he adds when he notices your apprehension.

you frown.

“i’ll take half,” megumi mutters, the annoyance leaking into his tone. “she’ll do 15 and i’ll do 15. we both broke the rules, so punish us fairly.”

gojo’s smirk widens. “i wasn’t finished, fushiguro. you’re gonna run 30 as well… but i guess it’s 45 now? isn’t that sweet of you? protecting your girl~”

“gojo-sensei… y/n is wearing megumi’s shirt…” yuji pretends to gag. “we all know what that—”

megumi shoots a glare at him. if eyes could kill, yuji would be six feet under. “don’t be fucking gross, yuji. it’s not like that.”

you tug at his t-shirt, eyes averting gojo’s. megumi’s behavior is only going to punish the two of you more. the whole situation is already making you want to curl up into a ball and die, and you want it to be over with already.

“oh my god, you’re right, yuji. that’s…. that’s very scandalous.” nobara brings a hand to cover her opened mouth.

“don’t piss me off,” megumi threatens. “it’s not anything like what you two are thinking. don’t be weird about it.”

gojo opens his mouth to speak, but megumi is quicker. he drags you out of the office and the two of you make it to the track field. the red of the field matches the red in megumi’s face. it’s ridiculously hilarious now that you’re really looking at it.

“let’s run our laps. 15 for you, 45 for me.”

you giggle and pull him in for a kiss. “thank you, megumi, but i can handle 30 just fine. we just have to get better at sneaking around, don’t we?”

“yeah…” he says, his composure breaking. “ah, whatever. they know anyway. let’s just start going out, hm? they can’t control us outside of school grounds.”

from somewhere inside the school, you can hear nobara celebrate over winning $50.

a/n: this was SO FUN TO WRITE. i have so many drafts and drabbles so i decided to just post one! none of it is canon blah blah idc IM A SUCKER FOR SOFT MEGUMI!!! he’s the epitome of “i hate everyone but you” HOPE U ENJOYED

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro #i love megumi sm #he’s just a shy lover boy #jjk x fem!reader

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Part Two

15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker.

Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about.

Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff.

Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way.

Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head.

He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day.

xXx

12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere.

There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see.

Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch.

A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing.

Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip.

"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds;

“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!”

“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.”

“Shut up!”

Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington.

Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder.

“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.

The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”

Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go.

Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them could finish out their lap around the town center.

"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring.

"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."

Wayne hums noncommittally.

"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?"

Another hum.

Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."

Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment.

Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear.

"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his."

‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.

Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?

He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for.

Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness.

So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.

He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around.

xxx

9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.

"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed.

Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two.

"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"

As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth.

The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.

Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"

“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”

Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington.

The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life.

Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first!

"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.”

“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs.

Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold.

Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…”

He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.

xXx

5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.

He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people.

“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face.

“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?”

“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests.

They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed.

He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling."

"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve."

Of course they were.

"Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes.

Eddie sighs.

"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!"

With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room.

"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends.

Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins.

Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen.

It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.)

"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously.

Dustin nods, serious.

"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."

"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach.

There's no way Grant and Gareth would've agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.

Right?

Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving.

"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."

There's that word again, Party.

Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from.

It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.

Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included.

Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party."

Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender.

"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant."

Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant.

Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves."

Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face.

"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed.

Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.

(Because really him? Liking Harrington?

Not in a million freaking years.)

xxx

It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house.

"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel.

"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!”

Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.

Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.

No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror.

Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward.

They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths.

"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left.

"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"

"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!"

"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door.

Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two.

"Shit." Eddie mutters.

"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot.

"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly.

A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.

He'd be damned if he let it pass by.

"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."

Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.

Unintentional, or not.

xXx

It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.

Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.

As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.)

"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."

"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.

At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas."

"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"

Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.

Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.

Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.

Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.

"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."

Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays.

(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs.

Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. )

“Steeeeeeve-!”

As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.

"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!”

Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name.

“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised.

Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.

Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too.

‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face.

“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.

He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back.

Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes.

“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump.

Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves.

Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks.

He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it.

With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen.

“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long.

“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!”

The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes.

Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble.

“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red.

“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.”

This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting.

Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown.

“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them.

Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.”

He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.)

“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!”

“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!”

Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?”

“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.”

“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans.

Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods.

“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands.

“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.”

“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.”

Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?”

“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”

She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.”

“Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!”

“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up.

“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.”

Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.”

“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines.

“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”

He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head.

“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.

He’s ignored.

“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.”

Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following.

“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.”

“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead.

A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused.

“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.”

For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve.

“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal.

As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change.

“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks.

“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.”

“They don’t care about it now I take it?”

Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.”

He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was.

"I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve.

Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.”

Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down.

“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.”

Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”

“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.”

Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself.

Steve grinned at it.

“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering.

He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it.

“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”

Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--

It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.

He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family.

“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.”

“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow.

Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back.

(Laughs loudly as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.)

xXx

It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.

Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.

They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter.

Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.

The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.

It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice.

Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life.

Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him.

Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates.

It was hideous.)

Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart.

Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer.

See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath.

Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb.

Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass.

But most of all?

Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game?

‘Hope you like the game..’ It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’

Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face.

Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve.

‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air.

#I invite you all to end your xmas with some steddie fluff #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #0o0 fanfics #xmas special #fluff #Ka #Ka-Bala is a real game and its the goofiest looking thing ever.#white elephant

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deadghosy · 2 months

Note

Hi so I don’t know if you’re taking requests at the moment but a couple days ago I fell onto the concrete on my way to school and both my knee and leg were bleeding and needed one of those big patch bandaids so I was wondering if you could do like the Hazbin Hotel characters when there kid falls over and gets hurt like I did only they hurt both of their knees and they try fixing it first then they go to there parent and ask for help (no I definitely don’t struggle with asking for help what are you talking about) and they need like multiple patch bandaids on both legs, sorry if I bothered you with this request have a nice day/night

OOP I HOPE YOUR KNEE HEALS LOL! And yeah I don’t like asking for help either 🦆 also sorry if some of them are short because I didn’t write in order and kept skipping to finish other scenarios.✨

HOW THEY REACT TO CHILD! GN READER GETTING HURT:

Charlie

You were training to skateboard as you seen it on a dvd Alastor had for you. You seen how the human teens were skateboarding and wanted to do it as well.

And how did that go for you?

You fell with a face plant as you got up from the concrete from the pentagram city you known and hated for its crimes. You grumbled cursing yourself out as you kicked the damn skateboard as you wrench feeling a burning sensation in your knees to only look down and see them bleed.

At first you panicked like a dumb ass as you had a very shocked pikachu expression. But damn you didn’t want to ask mom….so you went to the hotel and go in your room grabbing some medical things.

You watched plenty of movies where they take the mc to the hospital…of course you can do this!

Time later, and you couldn’t get the hang of it as you actually tied your hands together with a wrapping bandage.

Charlie found you and snickers but grew concerned when she saw your knees. Good thing she was good at bandaging things.

So at the end it was a soft end as you had a cool skull bandage on both of your knees

LUCIFER

You were supposed to be in bed, BUT NOOO YOU WANTED TO BE A BAD ASS KID AND SAY NO!

You laid in bed with a grumpy face “fucking bed time…fuck bed times. I go to sleep when I wanna sleep…” you say under your breath. >:(

It was basically giving Eric cartman 🦆

You got out of bed as you sneak around the palace as you held your hand out letting out soft fireworks for a light source. Like hell…you didn’t wanna get caught but shit you were actually thirsty.

You went to the dinning room and go to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. You flew up with your three pair of wings and grab a glass. You smirked and turned around to find Lucifer, your father in his duck pjs tapping his foot with a raised brow.

You yelp shocked as you accidentally dropped the glass making some glass shatter as you flew to get away only to run into a wall.

At the end, you scrapped your knees by the wall somehow as the kitchen walls were brick and you slide down.

Lucifer tried to help you but you ran to your room as he sighs at his stubborn child…

“What in the world was they thinking…”

Alastor

You found out about your shadow like powers your father had and wanted to test it out as Alastor had his own shadow watch over you with a soft smile.

And how did that go for you?

It went kinda well you suppose as you did some shadow tricks and even shadow transportation.

But….

He found out you were injured before you knew yourself. His shadow grabbed you into his lap as he shakes his head in disapproval at you getting yourself at how you tried to shadow transport but ending up falling on your knees first from the air.

“My sweet little doe…you must be more responsible with your powers…” Your father said as his shadow counterpart wraps your knees in a bandage wrap

VAGGIE

You were skating around the hotel and wanted to do a 360° on the hotel stairs as you let out a gremlin laugh putting up a 🤟 as you said “YOLO!”

Cut to you on your face as your skate board is rolling away from your flat out body on the floor. Yeahh….you ate your own words as you didn’t think you would fail a sick trick.

You got up but hissed looking at your knees that has carpet burn..

“Shitttt” you said hissing still getting up as you grab a skull bandage and putting it both on your knees.

Your mom found out tho….and boy did she give you a huge lecture about skating in the hotel as you felt ashamed at making your two moms, especially the mom who is pouring peroxide on both of your knees to disinfected anything in it.

“You’re grounded from your skateboard….” “WHAT!”

Husk

“Kid the fuck happened to you…” Husk said as you had turned your back from him. Husk scoffs as his own child wasn’t responding to him. He grabbed you by the scuff of your shirt and you faced him with teary eyes.

Context: you tried to run downstairs as your favorite show was on but ended up falling down the stairs like a dumbass and slide like a cartoon character as you sobbed just laying there

Husk’s eyes soften as he sighs sitting you on the bar took grabbing a med aid kit and an alcohol wipe. Husk didn’t want to assume but he just had to say it.

“So..kid, you gettin' picked on or something?” He asked as you jolted shocked making him narrow his eyes as if it was the right answer

“What?! No! Pops I ain’t gettin picked on…”

“ then answer.” He said seriously..

You told him the truth as you promised him not to laugh at you….he laughed as you scolded him.

ANGEL DUST

Let’s just say…monkey see, monkey do.

You saw your father practicing his pol dance skills as you watch clapping and appreciating skills. Your eyes shine amazed as your father left you with some leftovers from last dinner the hotel crew had with you.

You ate waiting for your father as you hum peacefully with fat nuggets by you. Your little mind wanted to learn how to pole dance elegantly like your father.

So what did you do?

You got on that damn pole and bruised the fuck out of your knees. Literally you tried to get down safe, maybe like a fireman? As you slide down you hit your knees first than your feet as fat nuggets squealed worried for you.

Your father came in tired as he sighs. But then he instantly comes over to see what was wrong as you covered your knees with a shy smile as fat nuggets poke his cute little nose to your hands covering your knees.

You didn’t want to ask him for help as you felt ashamed for doing dumb shit but Angel takes your hands off your knees and sighed again.

“Jeez kid…if you wanted to learn the sport, ask the pro next time sweetie.” Angel says kissing your head as you nod with a soft smile

SIR PENTIOUS

You tripped on his tail falling on your two knees as the egg blitz jumped at shocked. Your father didn’t even noticed as he was just excited to make smoothies with you.

You didn’t cry…no…of course no-

You cried like a little bitch…

BUT WHO COULDN’T AS IT HURT YOU!

You held both of your knees as the egg boiz surrounded you trying to calm you down as your papa slithers by you trying to see what was wrong. One of the egg boiz named frank explained what happened. You tried to say it didn’t hurt and that you could stand up.

You stood up with wobbly bleeding knees with a weary smile as you face planted.

Yeah pentious picked you up with his tail and cried to Charlie at how he is a horrible father for harming you as you and Charlie tried to call him down.

He calmed down as Charlie helps while pentious kept asking if you were okay

ADAM

You flew into a window having glass shards in both of your knees as you let out a scream.

Cut to you being escorted by angel guards to your house as Adam was pissed and tired .

“Fuck kid…just..” he rubs his eyes as he pulled your ear inside and slamming the door to the guards.

“Ow! Dad chill the fuck out old man! Ow ow ow!” You yelled as you hid your wings while Adam grumbled with an irritated expression. Adam definitely gave you a smallest lecture while cursing you out at how he is tired of having the guards come to his door.

Adam sighs looking at your knees while you huff covering them. Adam tries to pull your hands off your knees as you flinch away from him. Now Adam was serious as he pulls your hands off your knees with force. Only for his eyes widen with shock to see your knees cut with glass shards.

“Oh you gotta be fuckin' kidding me….” Adam says as he gets up and goes to get med kit. As much as an angel can self heal in heaven. You are only a kid…so it’s kinda slow unless you are a grown adult.

“You’re gonna be the death of me you little shit..”

Lute

Lute was busy training the other angels for the next extermination as you smile eating some food your mom brought you “couldn’t whine” about be hungry. As you watch your mom be a badass, you tried to mimic her moves only to bust your cheek and fall on your damn knees as if you were praying to the lord himself.

You got up and see gold blood coming out of your knees as you covered a small scream and ran out of the room your mom was in.

She definitely heard you as she side eyed the door you left out of. Her suspicions grew when she was tracks of gold blood where you were.

She just sighed as she facepalmed and told the females to halt in their training as she flew after you.

HAH YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR MIND IF YOU THINK YOU CAN HIDE YOUR WOUND FROM THE BLOOD THIRSTY LUTE!

AND HER BEING YOUR MOM?! yeah fuck no…she’s immediately throwing you over her shoulder as she takes to a nurses office as you wounded yourself while she brought you to work with her….

For context, it was Bring your kid to work day…..🦆

So it kinda embarrassing having some of the angels coo at you while lute had a nonchalant face as she patches you up.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x child reader #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

Text

maybe you think that you can hide (i can smell your scent from miles)

summary: let it be known that accepting defeat is not in aemond targaryen's nature. and with a witch now in his hands, the distance between you and him is only shortening.

pairing: (somewhat) dark!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. mentions of violence, previous smut, and child loss. male masturbation. massive obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.

notes: to quote my mom, megan thee stallion: "pressed, stressed, obsessed, i got 'em."

masterlist | series masterlist

part one | part three | part four | part five

The rain was light. From his chamber’s windows, Aemond One Eye could see the fat raindrops fogging up the glass frames and mudding the open courtyard below, where he usually trained under Ser Criston Cole. The evening weather was peaceful and calm, very soothing, but Aemond’s mind was anything but.

He had been counting the days, as it was all he could do right now.

Three months, perhaps even four, since his own lady wife vanished, leaving no trace of herself behind.

Aemond deeply regretted not having a septon marry the two of them in the eyes of the Seven that very night that he claimed her, or whisking her away to Dragonstone in secret to wed her in the customs of his ancestors. Oh, he knew that his family would object to the marriage, but he did not care. She was his, and they could not, would not, deny that. She and the babe. They both belonged to him.

And now they were gone.

It weighed him down most days- if not all, a sort of feeling so heavy in his chest that sometimes it made it hard to breathe. Were they both alright? Safe and healthy? Had she gone against his wishes and returned to her homeland? Aemond had no way of knowing the answers and that itself was most upsetting, because what if they were dead? Or injured, with the Stranger trailing after them, awaiting the chance to rob them from him?

He shakes his head at that. I will find them, he swears to himself, while a fist clenches into a tight ball, no more of these ill thoughts.

But with no more ill-mannered thoughts come those of vengeance and punishment.

How dare she, this lady wife of his, flee from him!

He promised her everything under the golden sun and more- a plentiful and comfortable life as a princess of the realm and the mother of his heirs, as well as his very own beating heart and soul and seed. What more could the foolish girl long for? Aemond stares out the window, towards the gentle hill slopes of the realm’s countryside. The land was silvery from the rain and blanketed with a thick mist. What could her homeland provide that he could not?

He sighs before turning back to his empty bed, the left side, from where she once laid, now cold and untouched, with her sweet scent slowly fading. He hates it.

Yet some of it was still left, to his many blessings, and he brings the sheets to his nose, taking in a deep whiff.

The smell makes his cock stir and harden in his pants, and he soon grows too weak in the knees and in his resolve. He tears off his trousers and lays on the bed, his cock in one hand, and her side of the sheets in the other, his mind spinning countless images of his young bride. Every thought sent more blood rushing in between his legs, memories of her pretty body and all the marks and bruises her skin wore, her cries and whimpers, and the way her tearful eyes bore into his.

After that night, he took her more and more, in varying positions. Some new, others old. Sometimes he mounted her from behind, shoving her face down into the pillows to muffle her loud moans and screams as her hips slapped against his, and while that was pleasant, he soon realized he did not care for such. Aemond liked seeing her beautiful face twisted in pleasure and the way her breasts bounced with every thrust, and how she easily flustered whenever he leant to whisper a string of praises in her ear.

He also liked when she sat on her knees with his cock in her mouth, her tongue working wonders as she stared up at him as if he was a god and she one of those whores that belonged to the Street of Silk. But he never dared mutter those kind of words aloud, fore his lady wife was so much prettier than them damned wenches, too sweet and innocent and pure, and wholly his.

And not long after that, she began to glow, the sort that came only with motherhood.

He loved it and felt nothing but immense pride.

Was she still glowing, and swelling with his child? Aemond was certain she was, and he could only imagine the sight, one most beautiful to man. He remembered his mother’s pregnancy with his younger brother- how her feet constantly ached, and all the times she would ask Ser Cole to fan her, or switch gowns because she grew too uncomfortable and moody.

Was it the same for his wife? Were her little feet hurting as well?

The thought of such makes him bite down hard on his bottom lip, trying his best to swallow his own grunts and moan, and with a whine so unlike him, the head of his cock weeps and spills more of his seed, down his hand and onto his thighs.

What a waste, he thinks emptily, while eyeing the mess he had made, all this belongs to her, yet the foolish girl refused to see it.

Heaving out yet another heavy sigh, he reaches for the rag that sits to his side. What more could be done? Nothing. Foolish, foolish little girl, he clicks his tongue, all this because of you. He then calls for the maid, requesting for her to draw him a bath.

Tonight, he will dream of his lady wife and their little babe and the life they should be sharing at this very moment. He will ponder over names and if the child will favor her looks or his, and how he will need to meet with the royal seamstress for a layette. And as he sinks himself into the scalding hot waters of the bathtub, he smiles in contentment.

One-eyed Aemond Targaryen will have his wife, and his child too, by any means necessary.

It was after he sacked Harrenhal that Aemond finds the opportunity he had been waiting for.

The sixth month was nearing with still no sign of his little wife, though the princeling did not dare to consider admitting defeat. There was much pent-up frustration and fury within him, festering from all the damned months he faced of constant loneliness and dryness, and the riverlands faced the brute of it, most notably House Strong. In the ward of Harrenhal, at the hands and command of Prince Aemond, no Strong was spared- neither trueborn nor bastard, all but Alys Rivers.

He had previously heard that the rivers woman was an alleged woods witch, though she dabbled in other branches of the craft. Blood magic too, several little birds say as well.

It gives him an idea.

So he demands two of his knightsmen to bring to him the wet nurse, dark-haired and twice his age. When she stands in front of him, dressed in a soft emerald gown and with her bodice sullied wet from her breast milk, he does not expect for her to bat her black eyelashes and promise to warm his bed if he grants her protection.

“I can be of great use to you,” she adds, in tones thick with seduction.

But Aemond is quick to unsheathe his sword and hold it at her throat. “It should be known that I carry no love for your kind, witch, and that I dare not touch another woman who is not my wife,” he seethes, pressing the blade harder against her skin, “-either you pledge to help me find her, or I will sever your tongue. Perhaps I’ll send it to the whore of my eldest sister as a gift, seeing how she loved you Strongs so much.”

In the back stands Ser Criston Cole, biting his own tongue from saying anything. He may have been the second son of Viserys Targaryen, but Prince Aemond was the knight’s through and through.

The woman nods, and Aemond pulls back his sword. In his mind, he is giddy with excitement at the thought of finally having his dear wife back in his arms, where she belongs.

And the babe, he can hardly wait to see him too.

Alys wipes away the tiny welts of blood budding along her neckline, grimacing. She recognizes the blade as Valyrian-steel, with an edge that could have cut her head clean off. It is probably spell-forged too, she thinks. “My time and craft come with a price, Prince Aemond,” she says, steeling her voice to hide the fact that she is licking her wounds. “I expect to be paid in return.”

“Yes, I know,” Aemond hums, while sliding his sword back into its sheathe. “You will keep your life, and still have the chance for more babes to feed from your chest.”

He debates whether to bring her back to King’s Landing, in case his own children need a wet nurse, but the thought is off-putting, and he wishes not to offend his wife when she returns. Instead, he turns back to study the rivers woman. “My wife is missing,” he says, “and I wish to find her and bring her home.”

Alys frowns. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Six months ago, in our room. She disappeared the next morning, leaving nothing behind.” Aemond sighs. “She is with child,” he says ruefully, “and I worry every day." He rubs at his temple, shaking his head. "This is her first babe, and mine as well. I have made her into a new mother with the promise to remain by her side, but now she is gone, and I haven’t the slightest clue where she might be.” The pain returns again, followed by anger and frustration, as well as the deep regret for not doing things differently.

His words give Alys a chill. She always had a soft spot for children and the young maidens that found motherhood too soon in their lives. Maybe because that was her once, so many moons ago, losing child after child well before their lives began.

She mourned so many dead babes that the thought of another girl going through the same felt sinful.

Finding sudden courage, Alys takes Aemond’s hand in hers. “Let me help you, Prince Aemond,” she tells him, all with the gentlest smile. “A father should be with his children, and a wife with her husband.”

His violet eye finds her green ones, and she catches the smallest glimmer of hope flickering within. “Thank you.”

“Blood magic would perhaps be the best way to find your wife, my prince.”

Aemond tilts his head at Alys. “How so?” The Faith of the Seven went against magic, and harbors little love or respect towards those who practice it, and he grew up with similar sentiments. But at this point, he is too desperate to care. All he wants is her back.

May the Father and the Crone forgive him in his later years, though he has a feeling that the Mother might be rather sympathetic and understanding towards his situation.

“It is a strong and powerful craft,” Alys explains, “capable of things beyond our own understandings. This sort of magic- it has the power to deliver life and then steal it away. ”

He hums, nodding along. “And how would it work?”

Alys pauses, unsure of how to say her next words. “It would require the blood of your wife, my prince,” she says, carefully, “even just the tiniest droplet would work well. I could call upon my own gods to find her. If she pricked her finger on a needle or scraped her knee, as long as it drew fresh blood, there is no use in her hiding.” But her head then drops, and her shoulders slump too, “Yet seeing how she has been gone for so long, I do not know how it could be done, or what else to do in that matter.”

Aemond remains quiet from where he sits by the room’s hearth. He brushes his knuckles against his lips as he thinks, and thinks, and thinks some more. “Would dry blood work?”

Alys blinks. “Well, maybe?” Her mouths flatten in a line as she ponders over the idea, trying to remember if her old readings ever mentioned anything about dried blood and rituals. “I suppose so, my prince,” she replies with, fiddling with her long and thin fingers, “Blood is blood, regardless of time.”

At that, he leaves the room, only to return several minutes later carrying a single bedsheet, cream in color. Alys watches as he drapes it over the chair he had sat at, making sure to smooth out any wrinkles. When he is done, he calls for the witch to join his side, and when she stands next to him, he gestures to a bloodstain at the center, dried and a bit crusty but still obvious.

“My wife’s blood,” he says, smirking, “from the night I took her maidenhood and gave her our son.”

Alys glances at him, and her lips pull back into a smirk too. “Perfect.”

tag list: @minttea07 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @smolnuggie911 @marahisthebest @bibli0thecary @whatsonthemirror @bellaisasleep @witchy-jadda @princeaemond1eye @mefools @xcharlottemikaelsonx @browngirl101

(if I did not tag you, it’s because it did not let me! im sorry, little love, the tumblr gods hate me today.)

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #dark aemond targaryen #aemond smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

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weird-is-life · 3 months

Text

Please be careful

Pairing: Hockey!James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James gets injured during one of his hockey games and he's desperate to see you

Warnings: angsty, fluff, use of pet names, use of y/n, mentions of concussion, hospitals...

Words: 0.9k

----------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be a normal, regular hockey game with James as the captain for the game. And you, unfortunately, couldn't attend it, so you were hoping for a happy phone call from James.

Instead, you get a phone call from Remus and you instantly know, that something is wrong.

But you don't expect it to be that bad. Apparently, James got slammed into the boards by another player. Though, that's not unusual for hockey games, you've seen James get boarded plenty of times.

But James's helmet was not tightened properly and as he got pushed into the boards, it slipped off of his head, meaning James bumped his head hard.

James is stable, he has a pretty bad concussion and keeps loosing his consciousness, but he is stable.

You try not to panic, as you listen to Remus explain. But it's hard not to. You don't know, what you'd do If something happened to him.

You will those scary, irrational thoughts away and rush to the hospital. When you get there, Remus is waiting for you outside.

You immediately go give him a tight hug.

"How's he?" you ask with a worry, while you quickly follow him towards James's door.

"He's okay, still disoriented. But okay, he's got some painkillers for the headache, so keeps falling asleep," Remus reassures you, he would feel the same panic, you feel right now, if it wasn't for Sirius being by his side the whole time.

"He's been constantly asking for you, you know," Remus adds with a smile, "like every single time he wakes up, it's your name he says first."

"Really?" you smile at him back, it lifts your mood up a little, hearing that James's been asking for you.

"Yeah, really. Now c'mon, let's go inside. I know, there's at least one person in there that can't wait to see you," Remus means James, but also Sirius.

Sirius may seem like he's a really tough guy, when in fact he is actually the biggest softie. He instantly goes to hug you, too.

Another fact about Sirius is that, he gives bone-crushing hugs, that leave you almost aching. You can't say you hate them, they are comforting. So his tight hug is exactly, what you need, to calm your racing heart completely.

When you pull away, your gaze lands on James's lying figure. He looks almost the same as he usually does sleeping, except for the quite big gash over his forehead.

You go sit in the chair next to his bed. "Hi, Jamie," you whisper, as you take his hand into both of yours," you scared the shit out of me."

You chuckle quietly and wipe away, the one tear that escapes from your eye. You lift James hand up to your lips and kiss the back of it, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

The guys leave you alone with James to go get something to eat, which you are thankful for. Because you can finally get a minute only just for yourself to breath it all through.

With your eyes closed as you take one big breath in after another, you don't notice James's eyelids opening.

That cheeky bastard, stays quiet for a few minutes, just looking at you and smiling happily to himself. He's over the moon, that you are finally there.

"H-hi, my love," he croaks out with a groggy voice from the sleep.

Your eyes shoot open, widening when you see him smiling at you," James!"

"You're awake...How are you feeling? Does it hurt? Is your head spinning?Do you need some more painkiller...-?" you stress, but James interrupts you.

"Lovely....-" he starts, but you ignore it.

"Or-or should I go get some nurse?" you ask him nervously, already getting up to leave.

"Y/N," he says your name to finally get your attention.

"Yeah, Jamie?"

"Just breath, yeah?" he squeezes your hand, " I'm perfectly okay, now that you're hear." He knows, he must have scared you pretty badly. I mean, he was a bit scared himself to be honest.

You do as he tells you and make your worrying stop," a-are you sure, you don't need anything?"

"Actually, there's one thing," he says, cheeky smile already painting his bruised handsome face.

"Anything...."

"I could really, really use a hug from my best girl, right now," you hesitate for a second, not wanting to hurt him any more, then he already is.

But James has none of it, he pulls you by your hands towards him, basically pulling you into his lap.

"James!" you giggle at his action, but finally close to him, you give in. You tightly embrace him, hiding your face into his chest.

"I thought, we'd agreed, that no injuries for you," you mumble into his chest. Your heart still goes fast from the worry and you're pretty sure that James knows, because his hold on you tightens a bit.

"I know, I'm sorry pretty. I'm so sorry, I scared you," James mumbles back and kisses you on the top of your head. He shouldn't have done that, because his head starts to spin from bending down to kiss you. He doesn't tell you that, though.

"It's okay, I know it wasn't your fault. But please be more careful next time?" you ask innocently, rubbing your hand up and down his back.

"I'll try," James promises.

"Good."

"Good." You stay quiet for a longer moment, just processing that James's really okay. Even if he's a bit bruised.

"I love you, you know that?" James whispers lovingly.

"Of course, I know. I love you, too."

You stay cuddled up on James's bed, until the nurse comes and looks at you two very sternly, which has you climbing off of him and the bed in a matter of seconds.

#james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter

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the-oblivious-writer · 5 months

Text

After The Storm |3|

Tara Carpenter x Spider-Woman!Reader

Chapter Three: The Police Will Handle It

Summary: After a disastrous fight with Dr. Connors, ending with you as bruised and bloodied as ever, the only person you desperately feel you need is Tara

Warning(s): Swearing, if it looks like "Italic" the character is signing, injured R, & spidey level violence

Notes: Christmas came earlyyy. I wasn't expecting to get this chap out by tonight or this weekend at all tbh but ig I just missed these lovable, lovestruck idiots that much (also made them a playlist)

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Ringing.

That’s all you could hear as the pain in your ears never gave out. But that was all you could hear. Even your own whimpering fell deaf to you. There was only one thought on your mind; you needed Tara. She could make everything better. You don’t care if Sam’s at the apartment or not. You don't care if she arrested you on the spot. You just need Tara.

You swung through the pain, building to the building, until you saw Tara’s. You exhaled in relief when you spotted her lit up room through the window. Quickly, you swung to her firescape—nearly crashing against the window as you did so. Your tumbling let out a loud sound, getting Tara’s attention.

She rushed to her window, pushing it up, before she saw the state you were in. You were completely drained and it was clear. You were using the bit of the energy you had left to hold yourself up. Your suit was torn up, and your wounds were still fresh and visible. Tara’s eyes widened at the sight, but she quickly snapped out of it to bring you inside.

“Jesus, Y/N…”

You couldn’t even respond. You tried to, but you ended up groaning instead. “What the fuck happened?” Tara asked. It all sounded the same to you; muffled. Everything sounded muted.

She sat you down on her bed. You sucked in a breath, still extremely sore from your fight. She looked at you, trying to meet your eye line. That’s when she noticed you wouldn’t look at her. Tara raised her right hand to touch your face, she did it as gently as she could, but she made contact with your ear. You then flinch as you let out a hiss.

Tara immediately pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry…” She leaned in closer to look at your ear, she saw the angry bruising. The realization hit when she checked your other ear and she saw that it was just as bad, if not, worse.

“You can’t hear me?” Tara signed with furrowed eyebrows.

“No,” you signed back; you immediately averted your stare again.

With that answer, plenty of questions started racing through Tara’s mind. What did Dr. Connors do to you? When is your healing going to kick in? Will that even work for something this drastic? Are you scared?–

“You’re thinking loud,” you croaked; you finally got the courage to use the voice you suddenly lacked confidence in.

“Sorry,” Tara responded with an apologetic look.

“Just… be with me please?” You looked at her, eyes vulnerable. She looked at you, blinking, as a small reassuring smile grazed her face. She moved up the bed to lean against the pillow with you. On instinct, your head moved to rest on her shoulder. She cautiously snuck her hand up, once she was sure she wasn’t causing you any pain, she began to lightly scratch the back of your neck.

You snuggled closer to her, putting an arm over her waist. It wasn’t until a couple minutes later when everything came crashing down, when everything became so real. You just started crying. It started off slow, with a few tears escaping as you managed to hold some back, until you physically couldn’t hold back anymore. You must’ve started making noises, or maybe Tara noticed her shirt start to dampen, because she looked down at you.

At first, she wasn’t sure what to do. It was so sudden. It was also the first she was seeing you cry. In the end, she didn’t say anything, she just held you closer and placed a kiss on your temple as she continued to hold you in her arms. You couldn’t have asked for anything better.

—

You ended up staying the night, that wasn’t up for debate. You didn’t sleep as poorly as you could’ve in your condition. It shouldn’t be a shock at this point; you always found yourself sleeping better in Tara’s arms.

It was around eight when you were woken up by the sounds of shuffling. Sounds. You could hear again. Cool. You blinked your eyes open before looking at your surroundings. It didn’t take long for you to remember everything that happened. You looked over to see Tara putting on a hoodie.

“Morning,” you said in a raspy voice.

She got the hoodie on, pulling it all the way down as she turned to look at you. “Morning,” she reciprocated with a smile. Suddenly, she remembered the extent to your injuries and pointed to her own ear with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh—uh, yeah. I think I’m fine now,” you responded with a nod.

“Good. Today we’re relaxing.” She walked over to her mirror and grabbed her brush.

“What? No. Tara, I can’t ‘relax.’ I have a city to look after. Dr. Connors is still out there. And–”

Tara cut you off, slamming down her brush and turning to you with a glare. “–and look at what he did to you. The city isn’t going to collapse under itself if Spider-Woman takes a day to herself. You deserve it, Y/N.”

“But–”

“–The police will handle it.”

You looked down at your hands, contemplating your next move. You knew Tara wasn’t going to let up easily, if at all. Your only option is to listen to her.

“Fine,” you mumble.

“Fine. So… Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“What’s there to talk about? I got the shit beat out of me,” you let out a humorless chuckle.

“You couldn’t hear me. At all. What if I wasn’t here? What if he had taken your ability to walk—or in your case, swing? What would you do then? What if–”

You got up from her bed, taking her hands in yours as you cut her off. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. None of that happened, okay? I’m here, I’m with you, and in the end my healing kicked in. Don’t stress yourself over the what if’s.”

“You know I can’t help it,” Tara looked into your eyes. Her expression was so raw and genuine, you could feel your heartbeat pick up its pace as you looked into her eyes. You raised one of your hands to cup her cheek, the other still holding her hand.

“I know…” You leaned in, slowly to wait for her to reciprocate, which didn’t take long. She immediately caught your lips with hers. You both savored the moment as you both did with every shared moment you have with the other. You both hesitantly pull apart, your thumb gently brushing against her cheek as a small smile grazes your face.

“I’ll always come home, Tara.”

“You can’t promise that… No one can promise that.” You knew she was right.

“I’ll always fight a million times harder. I can at least promise you that.”

Tara let out a light sigh, leaning into your touch as you pulled her in with the hand that cupped her cheek. She didn’t fight it as she moved her arms to wrap themselves around your waist.

Everything is going to be okay, Tara thought to herself. It has to be…

—

Tara decided to make you breakfast that morning, as a way to start off your day of relaxation. It was perfect because Sam had an early shift, and she wouldn’t be home for a while.

When you got the okay, she finally let you out of her room—she wanted it to be a surprise—and led you to the kitchen. You were immediately hit with the smell of something burning, coffee, and something else you couldn’t quite place. But nevertheless, you still held a smile as she sat you down at the table.

She placed the plate in front of you; you looked down at it to find what looked to be pancakes, extra crispy turkey bacon, blackened toast, and a steaming cup of coffee not too far away. Tara was now sitting in the seat across from you as you looked at the food.

“These are… an interesting shape.” You push around the lumpy pancakes with your fork. Looked up at Tara who looked back with anticipation.

“Go on, try them,” she urged excitedly.

“Oh, now? Yeah—yeah sure.” You cleared your throat as you cut through the pancake after drowning it in syrup, before putting it in your mouth. You’re immediately hit with a sour bitterness, even through all the syrup you drenched it in. You look over and see Tara’s still looking at you contently, waiting for a response. You smile, mouth still full, and you still haven’t swallowed a single thing.

“Is so good,” you muffled the lie while chewing on the pancake. Is it—is it crunchy?

Tara groaned, rolling her eyes as she got up from her seat across from you.

“It’s terrible.”

“What? No, no, no, it’s not—uh, it’s just a little burnt. But you know I think that just brings out the… flavor? You know?” You harshly swallowed down more of the pancake, Tara only shook her head at your response as she took the plate in front of you.

“I’m just gonna make you a banana,” Tara sighed.

“You’re gonna make me a banana?” You questioned with raised eyebrows.

��I’m gonna make you a banana,” she rubbed your shoulder before walking away with the plates.

“She’s gonna make me a banana…” You murmur to yourself.

Tara ended up doordashing something edible for breakfast and you happily ate the banana while you waited for it. When the food came, the two of you settled in front of the TV. An hour in, you and Tara were lying on the couch, tangled with one another.

She had unintentionally trapped you with her legs while you wrapped one of your arms around her shoulders, the other arm's hand holding her own hand. This would seem uncomfortable to anybody else, but not to you and Tara.

The two of you made it work.

—

The day was slowly coming to an end, which Tara was dreading. She knew once the next day came, she would have no excuse to hold you captive any longer. Luckily, she convinced you to stay overnight. Usually, you would be hesitant about staying the night due to Sam. But since Sam was so busy she wouldn’t be back until morning, you had agreed. You also knew Tara wasn’t ready for you to return to your crime fighting, whether she said it out loud or not.

“Twister! We haven’t played Twister yet,” Tara exclaimed before walking over to her closet.

“Tara, I can not play Twister. I’m exhausted. Maybe another time?” Your tone was apoplectic and genuine, you could barely fight off your yawns anymore. She looked over to see you rubbing your eyes as you struggled to keep your eyelids up.

“No it’s okay. Let’s just get some sleep, yeah?”

“Sleep would be lovely,” you agreed in a drowsy voice. “I never thought my sleepiness could hit like this. It’s like a cement truck,” you murmur as you lazily get into bed.

“I think all those energy draining fights are finally catching up to you,” Tara responded as she got into bed with you. She helped you with the blanket, seeing as you could barely move your arms.

“Mmmm, that’ll do it.” The blanket now covers half your face, your eyes are closed as you begin to drift off to sleep. Tara leaned over, pressing a kiss on your temple before whispering goodnight.

She could get used to this.

—

What Tara wasn’t expecting was to be awoken at six in the morning to an alarm she did not in fact set. She groaned as she mindlessly waved and smacked her hands around in an attempt to shut up whatever was causing the blaring noise.

“Hey, watch it,” she heard you say. Now she let out a confused groan, reaching over to turn on her lamp.

She lifted herself up by her arms, then rubbed her eyes as she adjusted to the room’s lighting. It took a while to process what was going on as she looked around her room and at you, but once she did, she was not too happy.

“Y/N. Take that suit off.”

“Woah there. Don’t you think it’s a little too early for that?”

“You know what I mean. You can’t be serious!” She shouted in a hushed tone. “It’s—” She reached over for her phone to check the time, “—six! It’s six in the fucking morning. Go to bed.”

“Dr. Connors was spotted again. I can’t just let him run free. The police–”

“–The police will handle it. Go. To. Bed.”

You looked over at the opened window then to Tara. You sighed, mumbling something to yourself before moving towards Tara. “We’ll play Twister tonight. Promise.” You lean down to kiss her cheek before pulling down your mask.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, don’t you dare jump out that—aaand she’s already gone.”

—

All you knew was that Dr. Connors, aka The Lizard, was going on another one of his rampages. This time, taking down a bridge full of cars with him. No doubt, those cars were full of people just trying to get to point B. You need to help them. That’s all you could think about on your way over to the bridge.

Once you got there, you noticed the mutant immediately. He wasn’t that hard to miss. “Incomiiiing!” You shouted as you swung down legs first in the direction of Dr. Connors. You kicked him down just as he threw a car off the bridge. You reacted quickly by shooting a web at the car while The Lizard was down. It hung from the edge as you secured the end of the string to the railing of the bridge.

So far, you were able to do that with every other car The Lizard used as a frisbee. You looked over at him, hearing his gowling from just a few feet away. His hand had already grown back after being crushed by one of the cars. Your eyes narrowed, ready to pounce. You had lost him, and to him, more than enough times. You weren’t going to let that happen again. That was until you heard the cries of a civilian, causing you to turn your head the other direction.

“Somebody help! Help me! My kid is trapped!” The father desperately shouted, looking around just as desperately in hopes his begging was heard by someone—anyone.

You suddenly heard stomps, causing you to turn your head back at Dr. Connors. He was running away, again. But catching him didn’t seem as important as it did just moments before. You didn’t have to think twice as you swung in the direction of the father.

You landed on the back of one of the hanging cars where you heard a screaming kid. You immediately ripped off the back window, throwing it to the side.

“Heeelp! Heeelp!” The boy screamed as he struggled in his seat.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey, buddy. It's okay. It’s alright,” you tried to reassure him but you realized you were only freaking him out more when he turned to look at you with wide eyes.

“Get away!” He was out of breath, swinging his arms around.

“Hey look!” You said as you pulled off your mask, holding out your arms in front of you; he stopped screaming.

“I’m just a normal person. Alright? You wanna hold this?” You asked, referring to your mask. When he nodded, you threw him your mask, “Hold on to my mask.” He looked down at the mask, his breathing began to calm down but his adrenaline was still high.

“What’s your name?” You look over to the duffle bag near him to see a name written. “Jack?”

“Yes…”

“Let’s get you out of here, Jack,” you said in a reassuring tone. “Stay very still,” you told him as you attempted to climb into the car.

“Alright,” he watched your every move as he continued to hold onto your mask.

“Okay, I got you.” You reach your arm over, wrapping it around his waist from behind his seat as carefully as you possibly could. “Okay now look, I’m gonna undo the belt. You’re gonna hold onto the backseat for me, okay? You ready?” You hand gripped the seatbelt, finger hovering over the red button.

When he nodded you began counting, “Okay, one…two…three,” you unbuckled his belt. He successfully landed on the steering wheel. “See how easy that was? You did a great job,” you chuckled in relief. His breathing was heavy as he nodded his head up and down, you knew he was still nervous and scared as hell.

Who wouldn’t be in this situation?

Just then, your senses go off. You can hear the sound of flames not too far from your ears; you turn your head to the direction of where the sound was coming from to see that the car is beginning to be consumed by fire. The heat causes the web, that the car was hanging by, to break.

You quickly shoot another web, hanging by it with a tight grip, as you’re now outside the car; you hold onto the end of the car as tightly as you can, ignoring the burning sensation in your forearm as you hear the little boy’s screams.

You groaned, trying to tighten your hold as much as you can without being forced to let go. You’re literally hanging by a thread. The car’s beginning to smoke as the flames spread further and further. You look directly at Jack through the opening.

“Jack, climb! Now!”

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” A separate piece of the car falls down in flames, meeting a watery death. You let out a grunt as the car grows heavier and heavier by the second. “Pu—put it on! That mask, it’s gonna make you strong!” Jack looked down at the mask; you see the slight skepticism on his face. “Jack, trust me. Just put it on!”

He finally gives in, putting the mask over his face. “There ya go! That’s it! That’s it, buddy! Okay, now climb! Come on Jack!” The part you held onto was beginning to loosen more and more from the car itself. You only had so much time before the whole thing took a swim.

He steadily began to climb up, grabbing onto the backs of the seats to do so.

“Do me a favor, a little faster! Okay bud? You’re doing great!” He was so close, he just needed to take a few more steps and you would be able to pull him up. But suddenly, the part you were holding onto broke loose within a blink of an eye. “No!” You shouted as the car started falling down.

You swiftly shot your web at him, pulling him from the car as it continued to fall down. By the time it hit the ocean, Jack was safely hanging by your web. You instantly looked down at the water in great relief before you started pulling him up to the bridge.

There his father was to greet him with a hug, holding on as tightly as he possibly could. You fully climbed onto the railing on your way back up, squatting on the railing as you looked at the father and son.

That’s when the man turned to you with a question, “Who are you?”

“I’m Spider-Woman,” you answered simply before swinging off.

—

“Of course that happens as soon as you leave my room,” Tara lightly shook her head, referring to the incident on the bridge. She was in your bedroom, changing into her pajamas as the two of you spoke. You convinced her to stay overnight at your place this time. She just told Sam she was staying at Mindy’s. A small, yet convincing, lie.

“Well, it’s a good thing I was there. I… if I wasn’t there… I don’t even wanna think about it,” you held a sorrowful tone as you murmured. Tara looked up as she heard the dread in your voice, beginning to walk over to you. You were sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard, when she came up to you.

“Listen to me.” She was now straddling your waist, her hands cupped your jaw as your own hands rested on her hipline. “What you did? Was beyond incredible. You brought that kid back to his dad–”

“–I almost didn’t though. I was so close to losing him.” Your eyes look down to the side, the overwhelming feeling of what could have happened taking over you.

“Don’t stress yourself over the what if’s,” she softly lifted your face back up with her hands so your eyes could meet hers.

A smile started to slowly graze your face before you responded, “Did you just quote me?”

“Hey, your advice isn’t half-bad.” She reciprocated your smile; your face was less than inches apart, you both couldn’t help but glance at the other’s lips.

“Well thank you. Sometimes I need to hear it from someone else, especially if that someone's you,” you said truthfully; you brushed your thumb against her hip.

“Glad I could be helpful.”

“Now, didn’t I recall somebody wanting to play Twister?”

Tara giggled, shaking her head. “I wasn’t serious about that. I was just trying to see if I could hold you captive a little longer,” she confessed.

“Gasp! Nuh uh, no way,” you sarcastically responded.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, her smile never faltering.

“What do you wanna do then?”

You and Tara spent the night making out, watching movies, and eating leftover pizza. You found yourselves tangled with one another, once again. You looked down at Tara’s face as the TV screen' light illuminated off of her face; you simply couldn’t look away.

She was the most beautiful being you have ever had the blessing of laying your eyes upon. Every time you looked into her eyes, stared at her longingly from across the room, hugged her, kissed her, heard her voice, or simply just thought of her—each was a reminder and reason.

You would protect Tara no matter the cost. You would die for her.

—

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this… again.” You were carrying Tara on your back to your bedroom. Tara’s chin rested on your shoulder, her arms wrapped around your shoulders, and you held onto her legs, adjusting every now and then.

“Because you’re obsessed with me,” Tara remarked before placing a kiss to your neck that gave you shivers. You mumbled something under your breath. “What was that?”

“Nothing, dear!”

“Nice save.”

“I try,” you reply as you push your half opened bedroom door all the way open. Tara snuggled closer to you as you approached the bed. “Tara… you know you actually have to get off my back in order to get into bed, right?”

“Ugh, sooo tired,” she murmured with half-lid eyes.

“Just loosen your arms a bit for me, hun. I’ll just throw—” You glance over at Tara and see her wearing a scowl; maybe you should choose your next words more carefully. “—gently place you on the bed.”

“Fine,” she said in a muffled tone—the lower part of her face now resting on your shoulder.

You felt her loosen her arms before you did as you said you would; you gently place her down on the bed, putting a pillow behind her head and then the blanket over her. You began to walk away to change into your pajamas, but stopped when you felt a tug on your sleeve.

“Don’t go,” Tara said in a sleepy voice.

“I’m still here, just changing into some new clothes. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” After a few seconds, you got a nod from her. You placed a kiss on her cheek before you turned to change; you decided to move your clothes over to change a little closer to where Tara’s resting. It wouldn’t hurt to stay close.

Once you changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, you crawled into bed with Tara and pulled some of the blanket over you. Almost as soon as you got into bed, Tara turned around to face you; her eyes were still closed as she got closer and rested her head on your chest, putting an arm over your stomach. You accepted her embrace, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. You held each other closely through the night.

Tara's warm embrace was more than enough to get you through said night.

-----------

A/N: cookie to anybody who got the flash reference

Taglist: @gaylorvader

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x spider reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #scream x reader #spider!reader #after the storm au

514 notes · View notes

ginkgo-phyta · 3 months

Note

At elementary school I bent down next to an open window, when I stood up I hit my scalp with the "corner" (I don't know the exact word, English is not my first language), hurting myself (even though I didn't tell anyone because I was embarrassed about it). Since then, I pay more attention to edges, always covering them with my hand. So it got me thinking, Spencer Reid x Reader where Reader, during dinner with the team, drops something and crouches down to catch it, when they move their hand to cover the edge of the table (in order not to injure themselves) it touches Spencer's hand (I'm being delusional about that video of a man doing it for his gf while I do it for myself, because I'm lonel an independent woman). Thank you for reading this <33

A/N: ahh i’m so sorry that happened when you were younger! i love this prompt tho, reminds me of all those moments in kdramas ehehe i too would want spencer reid to do this for me *swoons* i hope you enjoy, my love!

Summary: Spencer notices you covering corners of sharp surfaces to stop yourself from getting hurt. One evening, he decides to do it for you.

fluff, gender neutral reader, no warnings(?), 1.8k words

It was normal for Spencer to pick up on others’ behaviors, completely in-line for him to observe his coworkers and mentally note their different habits or time how long it ordinarily takes them to complete a task. Usually, he finished his desk work quicker than his counterparts, granting him plenty of time in between to people-watch. For some reason, however, he observed you the most. At this point it had been five months, one week, three days, fourteen hours and thirty-six minutes since you were introduced to the team, since you were officially a part of the BAU family, and Spencer was acutely aware of your movements for every one of those seconds.

I’m just being cautious, he’d try to reason with himself whenever he’d catch himself staring a little bit too intently at you, watching your every moment a bit too closely. The other profilers around him, however, knew the true reason. Unbeknownst to Spencer, hushed whispers, knowing looks, quirks of eyebrows, twitches of smiles all passed around him every time he’d observe you. You were none the wiser, simply too engrossed in whatever task lay at hand to be privy to any peering gazes.

There were a few of your quirks that struck Spencer the most: the way you lightly tapped your fingertips against the computer keyboard as you brainstormed what to type next; how you made sure to thoroughly wipe your shoes on entrance mats before stepping into any space- even deceased victims’ homes; your habit of humming random, seemingly made-up tunes as you ate your lunch; and lastly, yet most strikingly, the way you would diligently cover sharp corners with your hands, obviously incredibly wary of them. The way you maneuvered around certain tasks confused Spencer, at first, but he found out the cause of your behavior purely by luck.

The first time he picked it up was watching you make coffee at the BAU kitchenette three weeks, two days, six hours, and fifty-five minutes into starting the job. Unlike Spencer- who would swing the cabinet open without a care in the world if it hit him in the head, too concerned about simply getting his caffeine fix- you would gingerly open the door at a forearm's distance. He noticed the way you’d wrap your palm over the bottom corner of the cabinet door, holding it that way while putting your coffee together with the other hand. The second time he noticed was five days, ten hours, and seventeen minutes after the first, when the two of you were looking over a crime scene nestled in the unsuspecting suburbs of Los Angeles. You and Spencer were combing over the murder site in the master-bedroom when something caught your eye. You had slowly approached the source of glinting on the baseboard below a window where the unsub was thought to have entered the home. Even though your eyes never left the mysterious material, your gloved hand came up to cushion the corner of the wooden blinds that had been left swung open as you crouched below them.

Spencer had given this habit of yours much thought over the next week, three days, four hours, and forty-nine minutes until Derek had revealed the wizard behind the curtain.

“What happened here, sugar?” the broad-shouldered profiler asked you from where he leaned against your desk, hand coming up to quickly and lightly tap your temple.

“Oh, this?” you breathe out, your own fingers replacing where the man’s had just grazed, pressing into the barely-noticeable scar. You chuckled at the memory, “When I was a kid, my head hit the corner of a window’s molding pretty hard…” your voice trails off a bit, zoning out as you massage the miniscule indent.

Derek audibly winces at the mental image, “Must’ve hurt like a bitch, huh?”

You nod in response, “I never told anyone, though. Now you know my deepest, darkest secret.” You shot him a playful grin before turning back to the case file on your desk where Morgan was helping you with a consult.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Spencer had overheard the whole thing. It all made sense now, the event clearly occurred at an impressionable age, leaving traces of trauma spurring your muscle memory. The young doctor made sure to file that information away in the recesses of his mind. He took a few minutes to think about it first, along with the other habits of yours he’d picked up on. Spencer’s mind began to wander, dreaming of the different possible backstories for each quirk. He wondered what other traits you might exhibit that he had yet to have seen. Was there anything you stopped yourself from doing, anything you were made to feel embarrassed about? He knew how cruel people could be. The prospect of someone humiliating you had him fisting his hands against his thighs, jaw clenching ever-so-slightly. That would be ridiculous, absurd even! All of your whimseys were just that; intriguing, charming, and…endearing. Wait, wait, no! Spencer shook the thought out of his head- that’s not what he meant! He turned back to his own work, deep in thought: Or…was it?

One month, one week, five hours, and twelve minutes after Spencer clued in on the lore behind your little habit, everyone was gathered at Rossi’s house for a team dinner. The eldest agent wanted to properly welcome you into the team, even though it had been quite some time since you started. Five months, one week, three days, fourteen hours and thirty-eight minutes. Everyone sat around David’s long, rectangular dinner table where he stood at the head, wine glass raised. He spoke your name, loud and welcoming.

“Chiedo scusa, I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to have you here. But, I want to quickly say how grateful we are to have you part of this team. People have come, people have gone, but you will always be part of the BAU family.” With a flourish, he urged everyone else to raise their glasses, “Salute!”

“Salute!”

“Here, here!”

“Cheers!”

“We love you!”

The mix of happy voices and delicately dinging glasses praising you warmed your cheeks in delight. The job was tough, but having people like these to work beside made everything easier. The flush painted over your ears and tickled the back of your neck when you glimpsed over to Spencer who gazed back at you with fond and tender eyes.

“Cheers,” he whispered, leaning in just a bit to clink his glass with yours, “We’re lucky to have you here.”

All you could do was shake your head as you chuckled, sheepishly taking in the way Spencer’s soft oak eyes peered at you over the edge of his water glass. You went to pick your fork up from the table mat, but your hands felt weak and palmy from being so close to the fluffy haired genius, causing the utensil to fumble out of your fingers. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, you were forming a not-so-subtle crush on him.

“Damn,” you whispered to yourself, craning your neck to see where the fork hard landed on the elegantly patterned rug. Quite a bit away from you under the table, unreachable by stretching foot. With a light groan you pushed out of your chair, settled on the idea of crawling under the table to get the fugitive cutlery. Out of reflex, your hand flew up to hold onto the edge of the dinner table to prevent any possibility of bumping your head against it. Instead of feeling smooth, rigid, temperate wood under your palm, you felt something soft and warm. Immediately, your hand flinched away and you looked up from the floor to see Spencer hands, large and steady, cupping the profile of the table.

“Oh, sor-”

Before you could even finish apologizing, his raspy timbre sang out, “Don’t worry, I got it.”

Your heart swelled with an unplaceable emotion. The flush from earlier returned with greater heat, spreading over every square inch of your body. It took you a moment of just staring at him in shock before his voice pulled you out of your daze.

“You can go, it’s okay,” his laugh was shy this time, eyes running from your gaze to focus on the conversation your tablemates were having.

You snapped out of your bewilderment, crouching down and fetching your fork before emerging back into your seat. Spencer kept his hand in the same position the whole time, picking at his own food and laughing with the others who didn’t seem to notice what you were up to.

“Thank you,” you said, all settled into your chair. Your words returned Spencer’s attention to you, a kind smile growing on his face.

“It’s no problem,” his hand lingered for a split-second longer than necessary before sliding into his lap. It had been a reflexive action, his subconscious fearing you would hurt yourself, but as the seconds passed he started doubting himself. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know it’s happened before.” The unexpected confession caused Spencer to look away from you, fearing he’d made you uncomfortable. With a light cough, he brought his napkin up to his face to feign wiping his mouth when in actuality he was attempting to hide the blush creeping across his cheeks.

“How’d you know?” You were surprised, but Spencer was relieved to hear no hint of distaste in your voice.

“I, um…” Another small cough pierced his train of thought, “I heard you telling Morgan a while back.” His chip dipped down a bit as he gulped down his worries.

“Wha-” Surprised, yet again, you couldn’t find the right words, your eyes searching for them in the intricate motif etched around the china plate staring up at you. “But that was so long ago…” your hands lay unmoving on the table, fingers picking at the corners of the place mat.

“One month, one week, five hours, and twenty minutes ago.” Spencer mumbled, gently yet matter-of-factly, picking at the pasta slumped before him.

Your eyes whipped up to look at him, mouth slightly agape in surprise. Moments pass by as you take him in, absolutely floored at his memory. You’d seen him quote passing time before, that wasn’t shocking at this point, but the fact that he retained something so trivial about you left you dumbfounded. He sat there, chewing on the smallest pieces of pasta you’d ever see a person put in their mouth, acting as if his actions were embarrassing instead of…heart-warming.

“And you remembered?” Your voice was quiet, unbelieving and cheerful. It beckoned Spencer to you like minnow reels in trout.

He peeled his eyes up from his meal to look at you; your face, benevolent and compassionate; your smile, small yet loving; your eyebrows pulled up by a slivered string of affection. The hand resting unsurely in his lap moves up to gently grasp his water class, his pinky grazing against yours. He left it there, your own inching over indiscernibly to gain just a fraction of a bit more comfort.

Spencer smiled at you, balmy and adoring, his words widening the grin on your face.

“Of course I did.”

A/N: okay okay OKAYYY ANONN how was this?? ugh i loved this prompt sm i wish i had spencer reid to look out for me…even tho i, too, am a lonely i mean independent woman

does this count as a belated valentine's day fic? teehee

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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obae-me · 1 year

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Random Sibling Headcanons

I'm a wee bit sick, which is why I've put my more serious projects on a very short pause. That being said I still feel the need to write something, so why not get some ideas out in the form of little fun ideas? Featuring colored names this time because it's fun for my brain.

These are just some little headcanons I like to think the brothers have done, since I love thinking of their sibling/ at-home relationships with each other.

In the picture of Lucifer's office, he seems to have stairs heading up to a second-story loft of some sort. I've always imagined he has a "Pride" wall somewhere up there filled with memorabilia of his brother's greatest or proudest achievements. There's some photos, art pieces, awards his siblings gave up on keeping, etc. His brothers know about it but hate it, so they all never speak of it.

Mammon and Levi once both badly injured their hands, trying to outdo each other high-fiving. You know where you try to get that perfect smack and hurt the other person's palm? Yeah, like that. They whiffed it on the first try and had to do it again and just couldn't stop after that.

Belphie usually puts small portions of his dirty clothes into his brother's hampers so they can clean his clothes for him without them realizing. It drives them all wild having to sort it out each time, and Belphie thrives off of it.

One of Satan's favorite pranks was to quickly run around the whole house and use up every hot water source he can while Lucifer was taking a shower so his water turns ice cold while the eldest is still in it. It got to the point where Lucifer is actually fine taking cold showers now.

If a bunch of them are in the same room and one of them gets a call from Lucifer, the others will suddenly try to sound like something horrible is going on, more often than not trying to incriminate the person who picked up the phone, blaming them for some false scenario that never happened.

If Belphie gets woken up too many times in the same day, he'll find ways to wake his siblings up in the middle of the night. Once he managed to get into all their phones and set annoyingly loud alarms, another night he cursed the piano in the music room to play until morning. Now the brothers have an unspoken rule not to wake their youngest sibling up more than four times a day.

Asmo likes to barge into his siblings' rooms sometimes unannounced with his D.D.D. while he's live on Devilgram or Deviltube. He loves to catch his brother's doing something stupid, it's hilarious. Sometimes he's not even live, he's just recording so he can keep videos to laugh over later.

They trade chores often, much to Lucifer's frustration, but everyone has some chores they absolutely can't stand. They've even somehow come up with a bartering system of sorts. Laundry = 1 other chore like dusting, but something like Dishes = 2 chores like taking on laundry and vacuuming.

None of them have ever missed one of Beel's games. They always show up and sit in the same spots so Beel never has to look around for them in the crowd. Lucifer brings the bag of supplies and snacks should his siblings need it. Because they always end up complaining about something by the end of the night. Mammon always brings his megaphone that almost always gets in him trouble every time. Levi gives his brothers all glowsticks. Satan always secretly has tricks up his sleeve to use against the opposing team should any of them come close to harming Beel (although that's nearly impossible, but he has them as a precaution). Asmo made everyone the most beautiful signs to hold. And Belphie brings everyone blankets since it can get chilly in the stands. He also brings a big lunchbox of snacks for Beel to eat right after the game even though they always go out to eat right after.

Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi as the three eldest are used to giving their younger siblings things they no longer need. The younger four have plenty of hand-me-downs but more often then not, they don't really mind. Lucifer gives out anything he's not overtly a fan of which can be anything from books to cologne to jewelry. Everyone has a few old things of his. Mammon gives out a bunch of clothes quite frequently. Despite his greed, his room can only hold so much, and so he usually goes through a semi-regular purge. Anything his brothers don't grab he sells. Levi gives out old electronics since he upgrades to the newest stuff as soon as he can. Because of this, Satan owns a pair of cat-ear headphones.

On a trip to the human world once, Asmo bought Belphie one of those electronic toothbrushes that play a song in your head while you brush your teeth so the youngest no longer falls asleep during brushing. Yes, it was a Brittany Spears one. (Does this date me? Maybe. Do they even make those anymore?)

Mammon and Asmo have both sat Beel down and tried to give him a basic course on recognizing flirting to keep their younger brother from being so totally oblivious, but no matter how many times they try, he never notices. However, now if Beel is ever given a random phone number, he knows to take it to either of those two to sort it out for him.

Once, for Belphie's birthday he received the ugliest quilt made from little squares from his brother's t-shirts, pillowcases, robes, etc. They all worked together to sew it up and it's very, very obvious who did what parts. Belphie says he can't stand the awful thing but sleeps with it every night.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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randoimago · 14 days

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I got BG3 request in my head for sometime. Um how would Astarion, Halsin, Gale, and Shadowheart react to a s/o or a tav that has a dog that fights along side with them like a tibetan mastiff, or a Akita, or maybe some other breed that is known to be made as guard dogs and protective of their owners? Maybe the dog more or less tolerates the LIs but still keeps an sharp eye on them. (Especially Astarion XD)

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Shadowheart

Note(s): I have watched videos on the LIs reacting to Scratch and Astarion's reactions always kill me (and make me cry the most). I'm happy to write this for you!

WARNING: Mentions of Dog Being Injured in Combat

Astarion

Considering his interactions with Scratch, he'd also act very indifferent when it came to your dog. Sure, it's a great meatshield, but it's a stinky animal.

Astarion is constantly telling you to just leave your dog at camp, acting like it gets in the way and is a nuasance, but he just doesn't want to see it being hit by a spellcaster or shot with an arrow. If ANYTHING bad happens to this dog then he'll lose it.

Honestly offended that your dog is indifferent to him. As if he hadn't been collecting the bones of your enemies to gift to the furry mutt. Very rude.

Gale

He's more of a cat person, but he loves you so he doesn't mind your dog. Although, he can't help remarking that your dog knows he likes cats considering how your dog is very indifferent to the wizard.

Gale makes sure to give your dog some good treats and headpats when he goes to spend time with you. He knows how much you and your dog have been through and he's going to thank the doggo.

Okay, but while Gale is more of a cat person, he can very much appreciate how pretty your dog is. He insists on giving your dog baths to keep its coat shiny and not bloodstained as many battles tend to leave you all.

Halsin

Oh Halsin absolutely loves your dog. It's a very strong breed and the gooddest boy/girl (besides Scratch) and he would love to cast a Speak with Animals to speak to your protector.

Your dog being indifferent towards Halsin does cause him to chuckle a bit. He promises that he'd never think of stealing you away from your precious companion and instead thanks your pupper for keeping you safe for so long.

Halsin enjoys wrapping you in one arm while his other is brushing your dog. The last thing he (and you) want are your dog having mats in their fur due to all the constant travel and battling you all somehow end up in.

Shadowheart

Like Astarion, she is also very iffy about you bringing your dog into combat situations. She understands that your dog is very loyal and keeps you safe, but she worries about something going wrong.

You can't always prepare for when someone wants to stop talking and switch to stabbing and she'd hate for your dog to get in the way. She knows your dog is indifferent to her, but she really hopes your dog also knows that she will keep you safe while the little guy is safe at camp.

Besides that, she does try to pet your dog and give the little guy plenty of loving too. Your precious dog will get all the praise for the goblins it ripped apart for you.

#its-tricky-to-save-baldurs-gate #bg3 x reader #astarion x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #halsin x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #gale dekarios x reader

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mackjlee9 · 1 year

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Male reader who is Price's husband gets injured during a mission but doesn't tell anyone because he does not want to be a burden. So he fights through the mission with his injury. When the mission is over and the team is one their way to the heli, he collapses on top of Price and ends up needing life-saving surgery.

I don't know what's up with me and making the reader collapse 🤣

This turned out better than I expected 😌

John Price x Male!Reader [Angst&Fluff]

Warning; typical cod violence, mentions of stab wound/blood, reader pushes himself through the mission like a badass and a dummy, night is reader's codename, near-death experience, mentions of surgery

Masterlist.

Everything was going according to plan, which was a little unusual and should've put (M/n)'s mind in a state of alert.

The 141 had been given this mission, arriving was kinda easy since it was pitch black outside, but they had to walk their way to the main building where the hostages were. This was a sort of high-level mission, they will all be by themselves once they enter the building, seeing as the civilians had been placed strategically around the whole structure.

They had to split up and be able to handle themselves for this one.

The information given was quite accurate, an anonymous person gave out the specific room where the civilians would be that night, seeing as they change rooms every day, and on some particular days, the enemy had more guards than others. The information was too good, but they had to go through this, saving the hostages was their number one priority.

And now, with thermal cameras, each of them headed to the rooms as quietly as they could, reaching their respective doors and using the camera to read through the concrete how many people were inside. The five of them checked their rooms and got ready to breach.

They had to perform this ambush at the same time to prevent the enemy soldier from calling in more troops as a backup.

"In position," one by one announced, keeping a stiff position while waiting to activate the breaching explosive. The last one in place was (M/n), he got the room further than the rest, pretty much on the top floor before the rooftop, he was more secluded and separated than the rest of the team, which had proved plenty of times to be dangerous.

Arriving at the door, (M/n) saw through the thermal cam that there were six people inside. Two armed guards and four civilians were tied up. Every room was similar that day, with low security as they spread the hostages in many groups of two to three civilians.

Such a small amount of guards was like nothing for the 141.

"Breaching in 3... 2... 1," the collective sound of unison explosions probably reached the four-kilometer mark, and now, they had to move quickly before backup arrives.

(M/n) took out the guards like nothing as they were caught off-guard, their ears probably ringing from the loud explosion.

"Four hostages secure," he announced to the team as he approached the tied-up civilians and leaned down to free them, "It's okay, you're safe now."

But something was wrong, the four of them started squirming in their places, releasing loud noises muffled by the gags in their mouths. They were clearly trying to tell him something, frantically looking over his shoulder.

"Shit-!" Before (M/n) had time to react, the sharp pain of a blade piercing his side made him stumble, holding his side for a second before he gripped his gun with both hands to block a second incoming attack from his aggressor. He didn't even look like a guard, he was just a kid, not older than twenty years, yet the look in his eyes was filled with hunger for blood.

(M/n) didn't want to kill him, but even after knocking him to the ground, the boy kept fighting under his weight, and if he wanted to cause the less amount of inconvenience to the team, he was gonna have to do it.

He glanced over his shoulder at the civilians who were half tied, half free, "Don't look-!" His yell got cut off when he felt a slash on his chest, just above his vest. The four people behind him did as told, closing their eyes and turning away.

Grunting, (M/n) kept his gun pressed on the boy's chest, dodging the aggressive and unpredictable movements of his hands to avoid being cut more, and reaching for his combat knife, taking it out of its holder, and with one swift arm motion had the boy under him choking on his blood, his body no longer putting up a fight, his knife buried deep in his throat.

Sighing, (M/n) stood up, placing his hand on the wall to hold himself up, feeling the whole world spinning, but he couldn't be weak right now, and even if he had a bleeding wound, he couldn't inconvenience the rest of the team, making them come up to him would only take more time than what they already have. And that could be fatal.

//////

After the breaching, they had a limited amount of time for the evacuation, and (M/n) has taken longer than he should've.

Taking the hostages out was proving to be harder than anything.

After hearing one of them shriek as a bullet hit the concrete wall, (M/n) gave them specific instructions to stay behind him or stay low and hide behind anything that could cover their body and block the bullets. They did as they were instructed, too scared about dying to even make their own decisions.

(M/n) struggled to take the civilians to the ground floor since most of the enemy troops were coming in from the rooftop, making him the one that was shooting most of them.

Thankfully, Ghost had been the first to have secured his group of civilians and had secured a safe spot for sniping to provide (M/n) some backup as he evacuated the building. (M/n) felt a little more relieved when he saw their bodies falling one after the other, taking the chance to guide the civilians down the stairs and out of the building.

He ran to the safe building while Price joined Ghost, now two snipers watching his back as he tried to regain enough energy to run the building where the team was.

The first evacuation helicopter took off with the civilians and they had to take the second one, patiently for (M/n) to arrive at the rooftop.

Even though his sight was blurry, (M/n) saw his husband walk up to him, and blinking a few times, he saw a small smile pull Price's lips up. He was happy that (M/n) was still alive and kicking ass as always. (M/n) show him a weak smile back, taking a wobbly step forward, before seeing black.

His body collapsed on Price, who held him internally freaking out.

"(M/n)! Honey, what hap-?!" His voice cut off when his hand came in contact with something warm and thick. Blood. "Bloody hell!"

The rest of the team rushed to their captain immediately, helping him carry (M/n)'s unconscious body as quickly as they could to the helicopter. Poor pilot, she got scared when she got yelled at, being told to fly to base as fast she could, because Lieutenant Night was in critical condition.

//////

Price was sitting outside the surgery room they had in the infirmary. He wasn't crying just yet, but his mind kept going over the doctor's words.

"He might not make it, Captain."

John has always been a man who sees in someone what others don't, and where other military personnel saw (M/n) as reckless and mindless, he saw him as someone who worried about his teammates over himself, someone who had courage as hard as a wall of tungsten metal. More than once he has risked his life to save others, and he felt proud of that, despite having been called a liability most of his life by his superiors.

So John knew, (M/n) had overcome stuff like this before, every time getting closer to never waking up again, but he would not give up that small spark of hope. His husband was gonna live, he was sure about.

For hours, Price sat on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, but at some point, he didn't care anymore, his mind far gone to every happy memory he made with (M/n). They met in SAS when John had just become Lieutenant and (M/n) was a kid who had lost everything, finding comfort in the military.

Working together brought them closer, falling in love in mere months. They dated secretly for years until (M/n) got kicked out of the SAS, the higher-ups covering it as a transfer, calling him a 'reckless man In need of discipline'. Well, it turns out Price had asked for his transfer to the first team he commanded as captain, and from then on, they had been together every step of the way.

They had been married for six years already, dating for ten years, but every time they looked at each other they felt that spark of the first time. None of them could ever forget that.

Those moments made them feel like they could do anything, overcome any obstacle if they were together, feeling like the world was a little more peaceful when in each other's presence.

Price didn't wanna think of a life where (M/n) wasn't part of it. And luckily, he didn't have to.

After hours, the surgeon came out of the room, taking off his gloves, face mask, and robe, a smile on his face was enough to make Price's eyes prick with tears.

"The surgery was a success, Captain, he should wake up in a couple of hours," Price let out a loud, long sigh, his arms resting on his knees as he leaned forward, holding his head in his hand.

He stood up and extended his hand to the surgeon, "Thank you, sir, I owe you."

The man simply smiled and turned to head to the door.

"I'm just doing my job, Captain."

//////

By the time (M/n) opened his eyes it was almost midday, not that he knew anyway. His eyes squinted at the pain he felt all over his body, and he saw Price on the chair next to his bed, patiently waiting for him to gain full consciousness.

Well, here comes the scolding...

"Don't do that ever again, you hear me?" He said while standing up, leaning down to gently hug him, holding (M/n) close to him, and crying on his chest, "I was so afraid of losing you, honey."

He didn't have to ask (M/n) why hadn't said anything about being injured, he knew the way his husband thought about himself. 'I'll just be a burden to the team, John,' he would repeat every time something happened.

But this time was different. Price realized he could've lost (M/n) because of him not letting them know he was wounded, and tears were brought to (M/n)'s eyes when realized he almost left John all alone.

John looked up and held (M/n)'s left hand with his left hand, their marriage rings clicking together.

"In sickness and in health, remember?"

#price x male reader #john price x male reader #john price x reader #price x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod x male reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader #angst #fluff #.mackjlee9 writes

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