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luveline · 8 months

Note

Jade Congrats !!!!! Just yesterday I was thinking about how much I miss vampire Eddie, can I request something w him and shy reader? Maybe when he's feeling like he's dangerous for reader and she has to reassure him that she trust him and adores him <3

tysm lovely! ♡ 1.2k

It physically pains you to call the same person multiple times. Each loop of the trill makes you antsy, eager to shove down the receiver and curl into a sorry, sad ball. You let it ring. When it goes to answer phone, you type in Eddie's number and call again.

It picks up. Breathless, a little surprised, you ask, "Eddie?"

"Hey, sweetheart."

He sounds defeated. You're not perfect with tone but the subtleties of his stick stark like a neon sign. Your boyfriend has bouts of depression that often manifest in a lethargic voice like this.

"Hi, Eddie. I was just calling to make sure you're home before I come over." Usually, you'd ask, but you don't want him to say no. It feels rude and weird and overbearing, but you know what he's thinking. Leaving your comfort zone for his sake isn't easy, and you do it anyway. "I made you something."

"Okay. I can't wait to see it… can't wait to see you. Sorry I didn't answer this morning, I was sleeping."

"That's fine. I'm just happy you're okay, I was worrying about you."

You pack his gift into a bag with a tupperware of cookies and a thermos of hot chocolate. Eddie's home is close to yours. Within ten minutes you're knocking on his door with wind-bitten cheeks, the September cold nipping your heels. Leaves from the trees in the surrounding woodlands dance crispy at your feet, orange and brown mulch that sticks to your treads.

Eddie unlocks the door to let you in. You see his hand first, deathly pale, black obsidian rings crowding his fingers where they curl around the door. For a second it's like he's going to turn you away, but he widens the gap and you squeeze inside.

He forgets whatever's wrong to touch your face. "Hey," he says, his hand slipping to cup under your jaw.

"Hi. You okay? You look pale."

"Am I usually more tan?" he asks, dropping his hand. "Fine. Blood sate in a few days. For now I'm eating rare steak and wishing I was dead."

He's kidding around, but you take his hand and squeeze his cold fingers.

"You're as cold as me," he says.

"It's nearly October outside. You'd know if you left the house."

He hums at your telling off, the two of you toe to toe just behind the front door. He sounds vaguely admonished and more curious, kneading your fingers in his with an unmissable amount of love. "Come on," he says, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles, "you need a blanket."

You take off your shoes and coat, following Eddie through his living room, past the bathroom and into his bedroom. It's immaculately clean for once, but when you left the day before yesterday it was chaos. Something tells you he hasn't been sleeping as much as he claims.

"What have you been doing in here?" you ask, putting your backpack on the bed. Eddie moves behind you, taller, a sweetheart through and through as he gets his hands on your shoulders and digs his thumbs in lightly.

"I need to apologise to you," he says.

"That's a big word."

"I lied to you earlier, I wasn't sleeping, but I've been thinking… I needed to think."

Well, what he's saying is nerve-wracking, but his hands aren't telling the same story. He's doing it on purpose for sure. "You don't have to say sorry for wanting time to think. Uh–"

"Relax," he says. "Please. I just want to talk to you about something. Don't be nervous."

"I'm constantly nervous."

"I know." Eddie's hands pause at the space below your shoulder blades. It's strange not to be looking at him. He takes a deep breath. "Is that because of me?"

You take your thermos out of your bag and turn. His pupils are small as they tend to be before a blood sate, his lips chapped. He starts to look poorly when he's hungry. The cookies and hot drink should help.

"If it was because of you, how come I was like this before we met?" you ask gently, offering him the thermos.

"Do I make it worse?"

"Of course you don't." How do you describe it to him? He's handsome and sweet and he makes you feel like you're something special. He's smart. He's fucking funny. Nothing about his demeanour or who he is has ever made you nervous, you've only ever worried you wouldn't measure up.

It's hard to say out loud. Tentative, you put your hands on his waist. When he lifts his chin, you hug him close, strangely close to tears at the smell of him under your nose.

"Eds, why would you think that? Have I made you think that?" you murmur.

"You know what I am." He tosses your thermos on the bed to cover your shoulders.

"Yeah, I do."

"You wouldn't tell me if I scared you–"

You flinch backward. "You think you scare me?"

The starts of his eyebrows rise, his little box of wrinkles pinched, and his pupils slowly widening. When he speaks, it's with the practised cadence of a well-worn worry, "I'm not normal. You don't have to pretend that this is normal."

"It doesn't feel normal to me," you say, placing your hand on his chest, fingertips against his shirt but palm hovering a half inch above. "It just feels like love. I love you, and I trust you. Is that what's worrying you?"

"No," he says, winded. "I'm worried I'll hurt you. I know you trust me too much, you're," —he takes your face into big hands, kissing you very softly between words— "not the problem."

You hug again. Cheek to cheek, an arm slung over his shoulder protectively.

You miss your happy, weirdo boyfriend when he gets like this, but you understand why it happens. You don't resent him, don't mind, really, that he needs to be told these things. You'll be cheesy and soft as long as he needs it.

"You're not the problem, either. You're a really good guy with a big heart and a propensity for catastrophizing," you say, your voice tipping into a teasing ire that borders theatrical.

He laughs like he was supposed to and steps back. Face I'm his hands, you turn your cheek into his left palm and smile into his syrupy brown eyes.

"I haven't given you your gift."

"I love you," he says. Licking his lips, "What gift?"

You made him a coaster out of air dry clay, black and lacquered with a glaze that gleams like mother of pearl. He reads it and snorts, his top lip peeling back to expose the barest hint of a sharp tooth. "I heart my paranormal boyfriend," he reads, his voice gritty with humour. "Bit on the nose."

You get a kiss for your efforts, firmer than the one he'd given you minutes before. Eddie's gonna be just fine in a couple of days, but for now you'll stick close. You don't want him getting the wrong idea —he doesn't scare you even slightly.

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lovearne · 1 year

Text

guilt

captain john price x fem!reader

Warnings: body dysmorphia, themes of poor mental health, comfort, reader is mentally unwell, Simon is a softie, price is the best husband™️, age gap, talks about mental health, small talk about sex, reader hates her body, no use of y/n

My page is 18+ only. I don't tolerate minors here, this is my safe place to express myself, and I don't consent to minors viewing my works or my blog.

Words: 4k

Diclaimer: if you have poor body image, please tread carefully, I wasn't doing well and wrote this to cope. Yall are beautiful and I love you.

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You've been… off the past few days. You didn't understand why, why you felt the way you did, or why you haven't had the energy to clean the house. Why you hadn't been motivated for anything. When you get like this it's hard to really do anything that requires you to work your brain or anything really.

You've been like this more times than you remember, and you never really remember coming out of it, like your just constantly feeling bad, and then one day you feel good. It's annoying really.

Today was neither the day it started or the day it will end, you don't remember when it started really. You just feel exhausted. It didn't help that you married a man that has four son like people in his life. They were constantly in and out of your house when they weren't on deployment. And constantly in and out of the house you and Price had for when he was on base.

You just couldn't handle it today. You'd known John for a few years, dated for 2 years and married for 6 months. In all that time, you don't remember ever once feeling like this around him. He was off deployment, yet he still got up everyday to run with the boys, meaning he was up before you. Meaning he'd be expecting to come home to a nice made breakfast, but instead you couldn't get out of bed. You didn't want to be yourself at the moment. You felt bad for feeling that way too, you felt guilty, because you love the life you have with John. You have everything you could have ever asked for, it's just your head.

You don't know how you could ask for help either, not that you wanted it anyway. You wanted to know how to make this go away, you hate feeling like this, it just drives the guilt up more. And soon there are tears in your eyes. You huff and wrap the blankets around you tighter, pulling them up to your chin, closing your eyes. You fade back into sleep, hoping to wake up numb or happy.

"Hey babe!" John greets as he walks into the front door, the boys in tow. He stops as he doesn't smell the breakfast you normally make. Was something wrong?

He was followed by the boys as he enters the house, walking to the kitchen.

"Babe?" You weren't there, something must've been wrong.

He continues to sweep the house for you, you were nowhere downstairs you must be having a shower upstairs.

"Boys, I'm gonna go see if she's upstairs. I'll be back." He tells them.

Walking up the flight of stairs he can feel himself growing more and more worried each step. More so when he can't hear the shower running. Maybe you were having some personal time in your shared room.

He knocks on the door first, incase you didn't want him to walk in. When you don't answer he frowns even more. The door slowly swings open, he can see you, bundled up and asleep. He smiles. Relieved as he walks over to you.

Sitting beside you on the bed, he admires your form as you sleep. His face is warm as his heart is. You've slept in, you weren't in danger. He feels the weight of the world fall off his shoulders.

His warm smile is the first thing you see as you wake up, and feel even more guilt. "Hey pretty girl, good mornin." He says softly, a warm smile on his face. "Do you want a cuddle?" He asks. You shake your head, feeling more guilty. "That's alright darling. Do you want some food? I can make you something if you want." You shake your head again, the guilt your feeling was immense.

"I just wanna stay here please." You surprised yourself with how level and soft you kept your voice. Almost whispering, just as he was talking to you. He smiles and replies.

"OK darling. Do you want me to stay?" You shake your head. "OK baby, I'll be downstairs OK? Just call for me if you need anything." You nod. He leaves a kiss on your forehead and leaves the room, turning the light off and closing the door slowly. You start crying as the door closes, the guilt overwhelming you.

"Did ya find her?" Johnny asked as he walked down the steps. Price nods.

"I don't think she's feeling very well today, lads." He addresses the group.

"Maybe we should make her some breakfast then?" Kyle adds in. John smiles at the young man.

"I think she'd like that. I say go for it." The boys set to work, making some eggs, French toast, pancakes, bacon, and sausage. Simon made the pancakes, Johnny was on meat duty, Kyle made the eggs and French toast, and John toasted the bread.

They were done pretty quickly, you having invested in griddles and an extra stovetop on the island.

You and John had bought this house and started renovations while you were still dating. He has been deployed when most of the demo had been done, he was only supposed to be gone for a month at most, he bad needed to head out on a special mission. You decided to put yourself to the test and worked on the house yourself. You had most of the house put back together, after getting what needed professionally done. You were painting the drywall and sheetrock when Price had came home. He was 3 weeks late coming home, and he was surprised when be walked in and the house looked more like a house than it did when he'd left. That night the two of you had a paint fight. It was one of your favourite memories.

John shakes out of his daydream as the boys alerted him they were all done and ready to eat. He smiles.

"I'll go get my wife." He says to the three of them. Ghost watched him intently while he left, turning to soap and gaz, no, Johnny and Kyle when he was out for earshot.

"Somethings up. " He states. Johnny nods his head.

"I agree, it's 10am and she hasn't even came down for coffee yet. The pots still full!" The boys knew your and John's schedule like the back of their hand. They knew when Price left in the morning, he'd put a pot of coffee on for you, a nice surprise when you woke up. You'd nor.ally wake up around 7:30 or 8 and have a few cups before they arrived.

"Do you think she's OK?" Kyle chimed in. Simon hums.

"I dunno."

"I hope she is. She's too nice to be not ok."

"The world hurts nice people the most Kyle." Simon's voice was almost sobering, the scars on his face showing wisdom in such an area.

The boys get to work in setting the table, placing the food nicely when done.

You were standing in front of the mirror, your eyes red as you pulled and prodded at areas of your body that you loathed. Pockets of fat, dips in your hips, your chest that is never quite what you wanted it to be. The tears flowing as you try and stuff the fat on your stomach into place, wanting it to disappear. You hated the way you looked and it wasn't hard to see.

You shouted in your head, all the nastiest words and hateful comments you could think of, any that your siblings used against you, or terrible kids at school growing up, terrible people now, your own parents. You yelled at yourself in the mirror for what felt like ages. You wanted to get up and go cuddle into John. You had gotten up to seek him out, wanting to watch him as he did his daily life. You wanted to snuggle in his lap as he smoked a cigar out on the deck, or lay your head on his lap as he read his current book.

When you stood, you made the mistake of looking in the mirror. You didn't see what you seen some days, instead you seen the goblin that stood in your place. Very rarely did you think you were beautiful, but it's not normally this bad. Looking in the mirror had set you off and you couldn't stop nitpicking yourself over every insignificant thing.

You thought yourself as ugly, your body and your personality. The one you portray everywhere day couldn't have been your true one, could it? Not if this version of you was always there, always lurking, waiting and ready to pounce everytime you thought you looked bad or anytime you did something wrong, and made it worse.

"Love?" Your thoughts are interrupted by a knocking. You quickly jump into the closet, trying to hide your red face and tears away from the man that you love. He couldn't see you like this, he couldn't see the monster you became when your brain lost the battle. You didn't want him to see such an ugly part of yourself.

So you hide yourself, hidden in between his clothes, you breath in his scent. Even though these clothes were washed, that damn cigar smell stayed. You breathed in the comforting scent of your husband's favourite cigar. Wrapping yourself in one if his coats, you cuddle into it, trying to ignore the man himself.

"Love? You in here?" You could hear John walk around the bedroom. His footsteps nearing the walk in, his hands rested on either nob of the door. "Love? May I come in?" You answer back a yes.

He swings the doors open softly.

"There she is!" He laughed, his tone soft and loving. You smile, hoping your blotchy face could pass as you being sick.

"Here I am." John can tell. You don't know that he knows, but he knows that you don't know. He can tell something is not adding up. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, and the light that's normally there isn't. It cools him to the core. He needs to help you.

"Hey love, the boys made you breakfast, you fancy coming down?" You sigh, unable to keep your struggle internal. You close your eyes and nod, as if it's almost painful.

"Perfect," he smiles brightly at you. "You might wanna get dressed love, while I love looking at your perfect body, nobody else will get the chance." Your face blushes as he draws attention to your body. He took that as a good sign that you enjoyed his teasing. But it only made you think of why you hate your body, leading to how you hate yourself. You shake your head.

You walked over to John's drawers, pulling out his sweats and a comfortable burgundy shirt, you put them on. They were loose enough, you supposed. You didn't bother putting on a bra, you didn't want to take up more space than you already thought you were. You turned around to see John had been ogling you the whole time, a comfortable smile on his face, love in his eyes. You blushed again and tugged the clothes nervously.

"C'mere beautiful." He takes your hand I'm his softly, kissing the back of it, then leading you to the kitchen. Down the stairs, and through the hallway, you seen the shadows of the boys before them. Johnny, Kyle, and Simon. Your husband's adoptive sons. That makes you their figurative mother, though they treated you more as a sister. There was an age gap between you and John, you being younger than Kyle and Soap. You were in your mid 20s, they were in their late 20s, so you weren't that much younger.

John wasn't twice your age, but he was a good few years older than you, he took care of you, and you took care of him it's how you two worked.

"There she is!" Johnny yelled as he came at you quickly, he pulled you into a hug, and suddenly you fell into a bigger pit of guilt. You gently push at his chest, but let him hug you. That's the least you could do, even though the last thing you want right now is a hug. You sniffle, and then cough a little, just to maybe play off as being sick rather than letting anyone know that your head was at war with itself.

Kyle was the next one to give you a hug, he smelled of old spice and breakfast, you felt even more guilt. These men ran for a few hours and then came over to make themselves breakfast that you normally have made for them. He patted your back as you stood there, your hands trapped under his arms, your eyes settling in the ceiling.

Simon nods at you, and you find yourself looking away instead of nodding back, or asking for a hug like you normally would. You didn't even let John touch you this morning and the two forced hugs you didn't want to repeat. Simon seems to be the only one who realized what was going on with you. You sat through breakfast, nodding along with John as he complimented the boys cooking. The whole time Simon watched you, he studied your manurisms, deeming them the same as his on his bad days.

So, as John, Johnny and Kyle tidy up after breakfast, which you barely ate any of, Simon offered you to come outside for a smoke. You don't smoke, but he does. It's odd when he wants company, but no matter how you were feeling you'd never say no to sitting with him. You know how bad his ptsd and anxiety/paranoia are.

"So," he begins. "I know what's going on." He says, causing you to panic and feel more guilt.

"It's not what you think." You rush, your voice panicked.

"I know what hating yourself looks like sweetheart." You look away from his face, immensely ashamed he'd caught you. "Why do you hate yourself?" He asks. You just furrow your brows at him. "What do you hate about yourself?" He clarifies.

"I don't wanna talk about it." You try and brush it off.

"I know." He nods. "You eventually got me to talk to you about why I hate myself. So I'm not leaving until you tell me." He states.

"I can't." He nods again.

"I know." You sit in silence for a while, he's had a few cigarettes now, his legs dangling off the deck, arms rested on the railing, you sitting the same way.

"Simon?" You say, after gathering your courage and forcing yourself to talk. He turns his head toward you slowly. "I don't have a good enough reason to hate myself." You say. He frowns.

"Whatever reason you have in your head is enough. You don't have to have been through war to hate yourself love." He explains. "And I'll never judge you for it, ever." He says. "All trauma is valid, and all mental health matters." You recognized some of your own words being quoted back at you.

"I don't wanna say." He nods.

"That's alright, do you wanna talk about why you stayed in bed today and barely ate?" You frowned.

"I'm too fat." You say. It's his turn to frown.

"Who said that?" He asks in disbelief.

"Everyone."

"No, I know for sure I didn't say that. And if Price did-"

"John didn't!" You interrupted, he nods. "Just, since I was little. I guess I've always been an easy target." You try to laugh but it's more of a cry.

"Childhood trauma." Ghost remarks.

"It was just bullying." You are quick to defend, why are you quick to defend the people who made you hate yourself?

"No, I know what you're doing. You didn't deserve any word or action of that." Simon could read you better than your husband could.

"How do yo-"

"You are the sweetest person I've met." He starts. "You're so welcoming and understanding. There is nothing wrong with you." That's what you think. You bitterly thought.

"What if there is? What if the reason I feel so bad is because there's something wrong with me?" You break. "My brain turns on itself Simon, it starts to eat away at me, my confidence, my self image, my everything. And I don't know how to stop it." There are tears in your eyes that you hold back.

"Oh love." He pulls you into his chest, a hug from Simon is rare, and you start to sob into him. "It's ok, let it out." He rubs your back, "I'm here for you." Hes learned a lot from you in the past 2 and a half years, a lot of everything useful he didn't have before. He was also your best friend. Sure John is your husband, but you and Simon got on best, in platonical ways. You've joked before that Simon was your soul friend, a platonic soulmate. You knew John was your soulmate in the literal sense, but you understood Simon easier than anyone else on the planet.

John came outside to have a cigar after washing the dishes and watching the other two boys fight for half an hour over who was drying and who was tidying the kitchen. He was alarmed when he heard you sobbing, but relaxed when he saw Simon consoling you.

"I just feel so guilty Simon." Your voice was wrecked, throat raw with emotion.

"Why's that love?"

"I want to be the perfect wife to him, I want to keep up on house work, I want to give him kids, I wanna be there all the time for him. I want to be able to have a desirable body, so that maybe one day he doesn't wake up disgusted with me, like I wake up disgusted by myself." John's heart cracks, deep in his chest. He staggers, as if he'd been shot.

"Hey," Simon grabs your hand. "You have a desirable body." You scoff.

"No, I don't." He hums.

"You do actually. Very desirable. Most of my partners have been bigger. More cushion you know?" He asks. "I like being comfortable and confident that my partner can hold my body weight without it crushing them. Cause darling I weigh a lot. And so does your husband." He states, John smiles at your small smile.

"But what if he wakes up one day and decides he does like my weight, the rolls of fat I have, the ugly fat deposit I have over my butt. What then Simon?" Simon looks you deaf in the eyes.

"I'll just kill him." He says that like it's the most important thing in the world.

"You can't kill my husband!" You shout at him.

"Do I want to? No. But if he hurts you? There isn't anywhere he could hide from me." Simon says. "You are my best friend, don't tell Johnny that. You are number one. Ok? If you need something, I'm here. If someone needs to be killed, I don't care who it is. I will kill them for you." Simon comforts you, his seriousness making you smile, and that smile reaches your eyes. John watched on. Oddly comforted by the fact that if he ever treated you bad, that Simon would be there. He needed to know that you'd be protected as well, if something ever happened to him.

"Oh Simon." You cry and pull him into a hug. "You're the best friend I've ever had." John smiles, seeing you momentarily happy.

"Now, I think you should tell your husband about how you're feeling. He can help as well." Simon states.

"It'll be gone in a few days, maybe I can just fake being the regular me."

"Absolutely not." John interrupted.

"John." You had horror written on your face as he approached the two of you.

"Hey baby," he smiles at you, the pure look of love shining through his eyes. "We have some things to speak about." You shake your head.

"Can we talk about it later?" You ask, he tilts his head as if thinking about it.

"I think it's better if we talk now, yeah?" You sigh. "Simon, I will take over from here, you can go now." He said to the larger man. Simon cocked an eyebrow, but left. John comes to sit beside you, his leg touching yours.

The two of you just sit like that for while, Basking in the sun, and the cool weather outside. Your thoughts were full of times that John had told you you were beautiful, times where you believed him, times where you had to stop the negative thoughts, and times where they won over. Then the tines where he told you he loved you flooded in, you believed him each and every single time, there were times where your mind was against you, and he'd said it and you had thought negatively about it.

"So," he starts. You look at him, not quite meeting his eye. "What's happening baby?" You smile bittersweetly at him.

"Sometimes my brain attacks me." You say. He laughs a little.

"OK, darling wanna tell me how?"

"It makes me feel so bad, like this morning. I couldn't get out of bed until you came and got me. I just didn't have motivation to do anything." He nods. "It's so paralyzing sometimes. The way my brain feels. And then there's the guilt. The guilt for not doing anything all day, for not talking to you, or not doing chores, or not doing anything. Wasting the day away."

"Baby," His hand on your thigh grounds you. "You don't ever have to feel guilty. I understand." He says softly. "I need you to know that you can always talk to me about these things." He says. You make a mental note to never.

"I don't want you seeing that part of me." You whisper, your voice failing you.

"Why baby?"

"It's the ugliest part. I can get so mad at you and say things that I don't mean." He smiles.

"You think I don't have a part of me like that?" He says. "I do, it's rare that it sees the light of day nowadays, but I manage it. You know how I do?" He asks. You shake your head. "I've been going to therapy for a few years now. It's helped me a lot. I wouldn't have married you if I was still the same man I was then. I can ask if we can book you in." He says. His smile was small and comforting again. "I don't mind if you don't want to talk to me about these thoughts and feelings. I do think you need to talk to someone about them though. My therapist is very neutral and easy to talk to." He adds. You look at him, wondering how you've known him for years and didn't know he struggled like you do.

"You never told me that." You say.

"No," he shakes his head. "It's not the same as what you are struggling with, but everyone fights their own battles. Even with their own brains." He says. You admire his wisdom.

"John," you start. "I love you." He smiles, big and happy.

"I love you too sweetheart." He kisses the side of your head. "What do you say we send these boys home, and then spend the day doing anything that we find fun. Get your mind off the bad?" You nod.

"We could play Mario kart?" He nods.

"Of course Mrs. Price." He confirms. You blushed deep red. You always did when he talked to you like that. "And just so you know, no matter what size you are, I will still love you and want to fuck you until you cry. You are the only person I want. I am yours." He kisses away your tears.

"I can't believe we've been married for six months." You say. "I'm still getting used to being Mrs. Price." He smiles.

"Well I could just call you mine." He teases.

"You can call me whatever you want handsome." He laughs. Suddenly the world feels a lot more bright, as the guilt lifts completely off your shoulders, letting yourself enjoy the company of your husband, your temple resting on his collarbone as he presses a kiss into your hair. The two of you sit there, watching the birds as they fly through the air. You were gonna be just fine with him by your side.

#captain john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price #cod mw2

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searchingforgravity · 1 year

Text

A Whole Lotta Nerve (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Elvis gets jealous when he sees you flirting with someone right in front of him, and decides to teach you a lesson while also reminding you who you belong to.

TW: Public sex, smut, jealousy kink

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 1770

A/N: Not much to say about this one other than 50's Elvis is my kryptonite. Enjoy!

"I-I-I tell ya' (y/n), you gotta whole lotta nerve, doin' somethin' like that!" Elvis calls as he bursts through the hall, his feet treading quickly to catch up with you. A slight pang of fear courses through you at his anger as you pick up your pace, throwing your gaze back at him briefly. You can't help the sudden surge of excitement that courses through you as well at his current state. His face flushed, his chest heaving as he gains on you. "I don't know what you're talking about," you bite back. Of course, you know what he's talking about. You were flirting with someone right in front of him. But you only did it because you were angry. Angry that he thinks he can throw his arm around every girl he lays his eyes on. Usually you don't care much, but lately you've felt like he barely notices you in the sea of women. You're afraid you'll lose him. So when an attractive guy came up to you tonight looking you over in your skin tight, thin dress, you decided to flirt with him, to give Elvis a taste of his own medicine.

"Why the hell are ya walkin' away from me then if ya' don't know what I'm talkin' bout!?" he yells, approaching you. Suddenly you stop, turning around to face him. His breathing is labored as he looks in your eyes, anger playing on his face as a light pink shades his cheeks. "So what, Elvis? I let a guy talk to me. Throw me in jail," you spit as you cross your arms over your chest, heaving slightly. "It wasn't just talkin' and you know it wasn't," he bites out as he comes dangerously close to you, heat radiating off of his body onto your lightly clothed one, making you back up, your back hitting the wall behind you.

You try to contain your anger as you gaze up at him, resisting the urge to pull away, not wanting to let him think you're scared. "Oh, honey, you don't want to go down that road," you mutter dangerously as you gaze at him, your eyes sharp on his. "What the hell is that supposta mean?" he mumbles, though something in his eyes retreats. He knows exactly what you mean. Rolling your eyes, you pull away from him, turning as you continue walking down the concert hall where he performed earlier that night.

"Hey! Where the hell are ya goin'?" he grumbles as he grasps your wrist, pulling you back to him. You try futilely to pull away, only making him grip you tighter as he pins you to the wall, trapping you with his body. "Elvis, let me go!" you yell as you press against his chest. He doesn't budge as his eyes bore down on you, trailing over your body. You see his anger rise as he looks you over. "I'm the one that should be mad! You're out there actin' like you don't have a man. Lettin' men look at you like you don't have someone givin' you what you need; satisfyin' you how you like," he breathes as he pushes up against you, making you feel his arousal.

You gasp softly, not knowing he had been turned on by this. Suddenly, your courage starts failing you as you try to ignore the sudden rush of heat coursing through you. "Elvis-" you start, but he cuts you off. "You're out there actin' like you don't know who you belong to," he grumbles, grinding into you as he presses you up against the wall, everything else becoming background noise. You can't help the sigh that escapes your lips as your hands come to grip at his shoulders.

"Did he turn you on baby? Did he get you all wet? C'mon, tell me," he mumbles, jealously lacing his voice as he brings his hands to grip at your waist. Your cheeks flush at his words as you shake your head, your mind already starting to muddle from his touch. "N-No-" you stutter before he interrupts you again. "Aw, c'mon now mama. I won't be mad. Tell me he got you all bothered," he groans dangerously, trailing his hands to grip your ass, grinding you into him harshly. "H-He didn't," you gasp, your eyes rolling back as he repeats the action, bringing his lips you suck on your neck.

"Here I am all hard for you, and you're wet for other men," he grumbles as he grinds his hips into yours again, more urgency in his movements than before. "N-No, Elvis, only for you," you mutter, your self control faltering as your breath hitches, now clawing at his shirt. He hums at this as he pushes you against the wall again, rocking his hips into you. A small whine leaves your lips as you buck against him. You don't care that you are in public, you just need him. Bringing your hands to cup his face, you pull him in for a kiss. He quickly accepts as he bites gently on your bottom lip, groaning into your mouth. "Tell me," he breathes as he brings his hands to his belt, quickly undoing it. "Tell me he made you wet," he grumbles as he yanks the zipper down, capturing your lips in his again as he yanks you towards him.

"Tell me!" he says louder, his jealousy returning when you don't answer him. "Elvis, you know he didn't," you whine, pulling him close, needing him to touch you. He snakes his hand along your thigh, landing on your entrance through your panties, feeling how wet you've gotten. He hums in thought as he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear. "How do I know this isn't from him?" he whispers. "I sure would look like a fool to please you, thinkin' this is all for me, wouldn't I sweet heart?"

The closeness of him, the warmth of his body, his breath on your neck is all too much. You are close to your breaking point. "Elvis, please.." you trail, trying to conjour up anything to say to get him to touch you. "I only ever want you. You're the only one that can make me feel good," you whimper, yanking him to you from his shoulders. If you weren't so needy, you might be embarrassed by your actions, but all you can think about is him. On cue, he starts rubbing you through your panties, your words making him groan into your neck. A gasp falls from your lips as your grip on his shoulders tighten. A small whimper escapes your lips as your head falls on his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he hoists you up and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist, bringing your lips to kiss at the spot on his neck that you know drives him crazy.

"Shit," he groans, slipping his hand under his boxers, pulling out his now throbbing erection. Bringing his other hand to your core, he effortlessly slips a finger inside you since you are now completely soaked. You gasp at the contact as you melt into his touch, your head falling back against the wall. "You're gonna be nice 'n quiet for me, right baby? I don't wanna have to stop," he groans, his finger pumping inside you steadily. "Y-Yes," you whimper, not trusting your voice to say much else. "Good girl."

Pulling his hand away from you, he grips his cock, his eyes fluttering at the sensation as he lines himself up at your entrance, giving you no warning as he pulls your panties to the side, pushing himself inside you roughly. You both gasp at the sensation, his head falling to your shoulder momentarily. "Hell," he grunts, waisting no time as he pulls out almost all the way before shoving himself back in harshly. "Oh-" you gasp, your hands coming to grip his hair. You have to fight to keep yourself quiet as he starts a steady pace, fucking you into the wall as he pushes himself into you.

All that is heard in the hallway is your and Elvis' heavy breathing and the steady pounding of your backside against the wall. Pulling your legs higher up his waist, he hits a deeper spot inside you, causing a loud whine to escape your lips. "Honey, b-be quiet," Elvis groans out, hitting the same spot over and over again. You can't help the moans that leave your lips, causing him to bring his hand to your mouth, muffling your noises.

Pulling him closer, you buck up into him, making him groan softly. "Fuck, baby," he groans, thrusting into you harder as he brings his hand to your clit. Your eyes roll back and you arch your back, pressing your chest against his. "Tell me I'm the only one that can make you feel this good," he moans, making pleasure shoot through to your core. He removes his hand from your mouth, his thrusts getting harder when you don't respond. "Say it!" You whine as your nails dig into the fabric of his shirt. "Y-You're the only one w-who can make me feel this good- shit! Elvis," you whimper. He groans as his lips come to your neck, no longer caring about how loud you're being.

"Say you're mine," he mumbles before his lips attach to the soft flesh on your neck, sucking harshly. "I'm yours, only yours, honey," you moan, making his hands come to your hips, pulling you against him, making him hitting you at a deeper angle. "Oh God, don't stop," you cry, causing him to keep the same harsh pace, speeding up his movements on your clit. "Fuck, your pussy's so tight," he grunts. "Feels so fuckin' good."

His words destroy you as your climax comes, making you yell out. He groans loudly into your neck as he reaches his peak as well, his grip on your hips tightening. "Shit, oh fuck!" he groans, as he helps you both ride out your orgasms. After a moment of catching your breath, he pulls out, his orgasm leaking out of you. "I'm gonna enjoying knowing that's leakin' outta you while we walk around," he mumbles, a smirk on his lips as you hit his arm playfully. "Don't do that to me again," he mumbles more serious, as he helps you get situated. "Are you kidding? I'll do that all the time now," You giggle, making him roll his eyes as he kisses you chastely, threading his fingers through yours as he pulls you back out the the crowd of people.

Masterlist

Tag List:

@goldobsessionsworld @peaceloveelvis @horrorgirl4life @looloolily @flowersofcement @father-of-2cats

#elvis presley imagine #elvis the pelvis #elvis presley #austin elvis imagine #elvis smut #elvis x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #elvis 2022

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idabbleincrazy · 1 year

Text

Secretly Submissive ~ Ch. 10

Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)

Series Rating: E

Chapter Pairing: Liam/William

Series Pairings: Liam/William (Angel/Spike), Liam/Lindsey, Spike/Lindsey, Spike/Lindsey/Angel

Series Characters: Angel (Liam Devlin), Spike (William Pratt), Lindsey McDonald, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, others tbd

Word Count: 2168

Chapter Warnings: fluff, d/s, distinct lack of protection, smut, blowjob, deep throating, dirty talk, pain kink, degradation kink, praise kink, coming untouched, talk of punishment

Series Warnings: human au, fluff, angst, Dom/sub, sub/bottom!Angel, smut, bondage, pain kink, nipple kink…more to be added as series progresses

Chapter Summary: Breakfast is finally made. Liam wants to play some more, and earns a punishment in the process.

Series Summary: Liam Devlin, hardworking investor and businessman, receives an unexpected awakening in the form of William Pratt, the unassuming bookstore owner he met online.

A/N: sorry I've been away from this one for so long. But at least this chapter (and probably the next) is almost pure smut. 😈

The rest of their breakfast preparations went by relatively subdued, both men too busy dividing their focus between what they were doing and willing away their respective erections to even attempt teasing each other further. A second pot of coffee was made, dishes were piled with food, and Will led the way over to the couch, Liam following suit.

William set his plate on the coffee table as Liam settled in, and quickly went to put the clothes in the dryer. Upon his return, he paused at the end of the couch, his gaze focused on the way Liam's lips were wrapped around his fork. Liam caught the look and pulled the fork away, swallowing his mouthful of eggs with a confused half-smile.

"What?"

Will shook his head and sat beside Liam, grabbing up his plate and taking a bite of the omelet. His eyes widened slightly and he let out a huff of laughter.

"Bloody hell, don't think I've had eggs this good in my whole life. Is there anything you can't do, luv?"

"Sing. Trust me, you don't wanna hear me sing. And I'm not that great at dancing, either. At least, outside of the ballroom stuff." A slight blush colored Liam's cheeks and he looked away. "My mom made me learn."

Will nudged Liam, making him look back over at the blonde who was giving him a sappy smile.

"Better and better, Lee, better and better."

“Yeah, well, my mom’s to thank for that. Father wasn’t too pleased, but he eventually let it go after my mom badgered him about it for a bit.”

“Don’t get on well with your father, I take it?” Will felt his heart tug at the bitter look on Liam’s face as he spoke of the past. “Nevermind, forget I asked, luv, yeah?”

Liam nodded with a sad smile.

“It’s just, it’s a long, depressing story, and I’d rather not darken the day with things that don’t matter anymore.”

“Hey, no pressure, luv, remember? Now, eat up, ‘fore it gets cold.”

Will settled closer against Liam on the couch, his knee nudging the brunette's playfully as he dug into the heaping plate of food. Never one to believe in the whole 'love at first sight' nonsense, he was hard pressed to give himself any reasonable explanation as to why he was so different with Liam than he was with any of his previous subs; letting the man into his own bed, seeking out an actual relationship outside of their sexual play…all on the first night he'd actually met him in the flesh. He'd never taken risks like this before with a potential sub, not since…well, not in a very long time. It had been years since he'd felt like this for someone, and he was adverse to questioning those feelings too closely.

As his fork scraped against a now empty plate, he shook himself mentally, pulling his thoughts away from where they tread dangerously close to brooding. He didn't brood. Setting his plate down, he picked up his mug and sat back against the cushions, watching Liam tear into another slice of jam-slathered toast. Unable to help himself, he pulled the brunette around suddenly, craning his head up to lick away the smear of raspberry preserves from the corner of his lips.

Liam moaned at the unexpected playful gesture and chased Will's tongue as it retreated, his own slipping past the full, parted lips to share the sticky sweet taste between them. One hand braced against the back of the couch, the other blindly reaching for William's coffee to set it aside as he deepened the kiss, scrambling to straddle the lithe body pressed against him.

"Christ, luv, aren't you the eager li'l pet?"

"You started it, Will", Liam husked against his lips, grinding his quickly reinterested erection against the blonde's abdomen. "How long till the dryer's done?"

"'Bout an hour. You got something in mind", William punctuated the question with an upward thrust of his hips, pulling a groan from Liam.

"Yeah…"

William blinked in confusion as the pleasant weight suddenly left his lap, Liam quickly tugging him up from the couch with a sly smirk twisting his lips.

"C'mon, Will, I wanna see your shop."

"You what!? But we were-"

"Please?"

William gulped at the heat he could damn near feel simmering behind the coy gaze Liam turned on him, his cock catching on to the turn of events quicker than his brain. He let out a soft growl of hunger and pushed past Liam towards the stairs, tugging the brunette behind him.

Flicking on the lights at the top of the stairs, Will nearly ran down the flight of wooden steps in his eagerness to see just what Liam had wanted to come down here for. The second they alighted on the ground, Liam pushed Will up against the nearest ceiling high bookcase, capturing his lips and smothering his words of protest at the clatter of books falling from a shelf.

"Bloody hell", William panted out when Liam finally broke for air, trailing his mouth along the slim columb of his throat. "All that playin' around got you really revved up, didn't it, pet?"

"Actually, I've been thinking about this since you dragged me through here last night."

"Tell me."

Liam kissed and nipped his way back up to Will's ear, pressing himself against his muscular form, his cock brushing against Will's and further dampening his already pre-cum sticky boxers.

"Wanna go down on you right here, no condom." Liam kissed Will again when he tried to speak, stifling the expected objection. "You've tasted me already, Will, lemme taste you."

Will groaned and nodded his assent, earning another grind forward from the bulk that was slowly threatening to make him meld with the wood and leather behind him.

"Then, if you've got lube and protection in your robe like I suspect, I want you to fuck me over your desk, the one you're leaning against in your profile photo, looking all Lord of the Manor in your stupidly hot glasses."

"Christ, you've really got a kink for those glasses, eh, luv?"

"Got a kink for you in those glasses, Spike."

"Fuck. On your knees, Angel. You've been sassy with me all morning, pet, think you need a lesson in manners."

"Yes, Master."

Liam sank to his knees obediently, his cock twitching in anticipation. Will reached down and undid the brunette's robe slightly, grunting in appreciation at the sight he made with his cock poking out, its head ruddy and leaking as it curved up towards his stomach. Undoing his own robe, he reached out and ran his fingers through Liam's hair, tugging his head forward.

"Take me out, pet. Suck me. Make it good or I won't let you cum when I fuck that sweet li'l hole of yours after."

Liam moaned at the threat and eagerly pulled Will's cock and balls out from his boxers, licking his lips at the sight of them against the black silk. Without further prompting, he leaned forward and licked across the plummy tip, eyes darkening at the salty taste of the pre-cum that had pooled up around the foreskin.

William let out a soft hiss of pleasure as Liam circled his tongue around the head of his cock, collecting up the rest of the pearly droplets, his head thumping back against the shelf without a care for the books it housed. His fingers clenched in the short brown locks, fighting the urge to pull the other man further onto his cock as the tongue continued to tease over the sensitive flesh.

"Shite, Angel", Will groaned out, tugging his hair just enough to feel him moan around his shaft, his eyes flicking down to watch Liam's cock twitch at the sensation. "Enough teasing, pet, wanted a suck, not a lick. Or did you want me to make you suck it?"

Liam moaned louder and William raised his gaze to meet the brunette's. Those warm chocolate eyes were blazing, pupils dilated to nearly black. Will pulled Liam off his cockhead, pulling harder at his hair until his head bent back, eyes fluttering at the pleasure-pain of it, and a whimper of need fell from saliva slick lips.

"Christ, you are amazing, pet. So bloody eager and willing for each new li'l push. Wanna see how far you can take me, Angel? Open wide, then." Liam hesitated. Will saw the gleam in his eyes and knew it was for show, a testing of the boundaries for both of them. "Color?"

"Green, Master."

"Good, now open your fucking mouth, Liam, before I make your arse as red as that cute little cock ring you wore this morning."

William bit back a groan at the flush that colored Liam's cheeks as he opened his mouth wide, his tongue resting on his bottom lip like a puppy panting for a treat. Bucking forward, Will thrust his cock past the parted lips, letting the aching length slide into the warm mouth until he felt the tip brushing against the back of Liam's throat.

"Fuck, such a good boy", he groaned, fingers tugging at the short strands as he savored the feeling. "Suck in, pet, yeah, like that. Such a sweet li'l cocksucker you're becoming already."

Liam moaned around the girth stretching his lips wide, still surprised by how hot it made him to hear Will praising him. He tried to relax his gag reflex, wanting to feel the thick, leaking cock filling him completely, wanting to make the stunning creature looming over him cum from just the feeling of his tongue stroking along his length and his throat squeezing around the fat head he felt prodding at the back wall of his esophagus.

"Bloody hell", Will gasped as his cock sunk deeper into Liam's throat. He tightened his fingers in Liam's hair, holding the brunette in place as he pulled out slightly before sinking back into the tight, wet warmth, groaning loudly when Liam swallowed around his shaft. "Christ, Angel, gonna make me blow, you keep doing that. So fucking good."

Liam took up the challenge, swallowing again and letting his tongue curl around the tip of Will's cock when he pulled back to start a slow, steady thrust. His cock ached between his legs, twitching and dribbling pre-cum when William growled out more filth.

"Fuck, pet, can't hold it", Will lamented, pulling Liam's head down into the thatch of curls surrounding his cock and holding him there as he felt his orgasm rush over him. "Swallow it all, Angel. You wanted to taste me? Don't waste a single drop."

Liam let out a muffled keen, hurriedly reaching for his own cock as the first spurt of cum filled his mouth. He tried to hold back his own climax, but wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock too late, the sounds of Will's pleasure and the salty taste on his tongue hurtling him over the edge, ropes of cum splashing out on the bookshop floor and William's bare calf.

Will kept himself buried in Liam's mouth as he rode out his orgasm, his cock still half-hard as the realization of Liam's own release sank in through the hormonal haze. Pulling out, he yanked the brunette to his feet, capturing his mouth in a heated kiss, chasing the taste of himself around the wet cavern.

"God, you look so beautiful on your knees for me, hot li'l mouth stuffed with my cock. Too bad you had to go an' ruin it, Liam. Did I tell you you could cum, boy?"

Panting from the ravishing kiss, Liam hung his head ashamedly, his eyes zeroing in on the globs of his cum dripping down William's leg.

"No, Master Spike. I'm sorry…I tried not to, I just…"

"Couldn't help yourself could you, Liam? Got yourself so hot and bothered sucking my cock like a good li'l slut, couldn't keep your own load from spilling."

"Y-yes, Master."

Liam was flushed such a cute shade of pink that William couldn't help the fresh rush of desire that ran through him, his cock quickly twitching back to life as he tucked it back into his boxers.

"Gonna have to keep your cock bound up when I'm fucking you then, till you learn control. Now, between the cheeky remarks an' this li'l incident, think it's time you had a proper punishment, don't you, Angel?"

Breathing a silent sigh of relief at Will's return to the use of his submissive name, Liam looked back up at the blonde, nodding.

Will bit back a gasp at the sight of Liam's apologetic face, eyes still watery from deepthroating him and lust blown with renewed arousal, lips reddened and slightly puffy from the thrusts of his cock and scratch of his pubic hair. His angel, looking like sin itself, debauched and hungry for more.

"Firstly, you can clean the little mess you left on my leg, then I think you're in need of that spankin' you've been needling for."

~~~~~~

All Things Spike: @leatafandom

Bottom!Angel: @countblucas

#spangel #a:ts fanfic #buffyverse fanfic #lemon #human au

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authorautumnbanks · 10 months

Text

How To Tame A Sorcerer (13)

The silence is stilting during the drive to the apartment. Her skin itches as she thinks about the ease with which she's settled into this new home. It's only when the quiet sneaks in, does her mind wander to how–why she fell into this world.

"Kagome-san?" Yuji cuts through her thoughts. The reprieve is welcomed, so she turns and smiles through the shivers in response to the additional eye slit on his cheek. The red iris stares back at her, haunting, the same hue that Naraku once had.

"How are you feeling, Yuji-kun?" The jet lag must rest in her tone because he only deflates at the question.

"Thank you." He doesn't look at her, instead opting to stare down at his lap.

"For what?"

"Taking me in. I'm sure Gojo-sensei has told you…"

"Being a vessel for anything can be isolating if you let it." She leans her head against the window, the coolness of the glass is heavenly against her face. Seeing Yuji's dead body took her back to that life where death was so prevalent.

"Have you… Are you a vessel too?"

Kagome catches Ijichi taking, what he thinks is discreet peeks at them. She needs to tread carefully. "No, but I knew someone that was a guardian." She tilts her head to Yuji, her face clammy from the window. "It consumed her—the burden. Naturally, she grew to resent everything and fell further into isolation. Until…."

"Until what?"

"She and the burden became nothing more than a footnote, lost to time." The pang in her heart disrupts her train of thought.

"Um, Yuji." Ijichi's voice waves into the backseat, ebbing and flowing with each waver. "Know that we will all do our best." He catches Kagome's gaze through the rear-view mirror. Perhaps the driver is more perceptive than Satoru gives him credit for.

Yuji beams at them as Kagome ignores the snort coming from the eye slit. "I won't let you guys down!"

Her shoulders are stiff from the accumulating stress that this new world seems determined to dump onto her, or maybe it's because she got more rest on the airplane than in an actual bed. Sukuna's gaze hasn't strayed from her since Ijichi dropped them off at the apartment. It's different to be so close to an enemy and not be able to do anything about it.

"You can stay in this room, I'll just need to get some of my things out," Kagome says, arms crossed as she leans against the door.

"You and Gojo-sensei don't share a room?" Yuji walks into the room, spinning around. The action is actually kind of adorable, Kagome thinks.

"There wasn't enough closet space for all of our things, so I kept my clothes in the guest bedroom." The lie rolls off her tongue easily. For the sake of Yuji's survival, she figures she can take one for the team and just stay in Satoru's room. Besides, he'd probably insist on it with the unpredictable nature of Sukuna. "Is there anything that you need or want? I can make a list and go pick up some things for you." She gives him a reassuring smile.

"I'm okay, Kagome-san. Just having a roof and a bed is more than enough." Yuji sits down on the bed, patting the mattress.

"Memory foam," She offers up. "I'm going to make a list regardless." Leaving before he has a chance to refute her offer, Kagome makes her way to Satoru's room. The need to be behind a closed door away from Sukuna's prying stares shakes her core. What she–no, what they need is some kind of game plan. If the higher-ups would go out of their way to put two other students in danger, just to get rid of Yuji for being a vessel; it makes her wonder just how powerful is this king of curses?

She crawls under the cover, her eyes close briefly. The sheets smell like him, though the softness of them reminds her that he isn't there with her. Despite how lithe he is, he's surprisingly nothing but hard muscle. Get a grip, she tells herself as she rolls her eyes. There's no way this can end well. Not when there's so much uncertainty around why she was sent to this place, to begin with.

"Yo!" Satoru appears suddenly near the bed. Kagome lowers the covers, peering over at him. To anyone else, his smile would seem joyful–maybe even a bit mischievous, but she can see through the cracks of his facade.

"Come on, Yuji-kun is getting settled in." She scoots over, patting the space she created for him. "You need to rest more."

He slips his shoes off and slides into the space on the bed for him. Kagome reaches out towards his face, removing the blindfold. Not that she'll ever tell him, but his eyes are really captivating.

"Did someone die?" He whispers as if the moment will be broken if he speaks too loudly.

"Technically, Yuji-kun did." Her hands snake around him as she scoots in closer. "Where's Buyo Jr?"

"That's what I forgot." He laughs as he avoids looking at her. "Uh, well. He didn't want to leave Megumi's side."

"Are you saying that I've been betrayed?"

"Supposedly, he helped Megumi against Sukuna. Just how strong are the monsters in your world?"

"There're levels to them, like the curses here. Nekomata's are more supportive companions—"

"Like in an MMO, if you're playing a ranger class?"

"That's one way of putting it, yes. But what's this about Buyo Jr not wanting to come home?"

"I think Megumi needs him more than Buyo Jr needs to be at home." He nips the tip of her nose. Kagome tries to disengage herself from his embrace, but he only tightens his hold. "My poor students are traumatized. Think of the children."

"You're so dramatic for no reason."

"I need your help with Yuji," he starts. The switch of emotion is enough to give her whiplash. "I want to save him and exorcise Sukuna."

Kagome bites her bottom lip, eyes roving over his face. "You want me to purify him?"

His eyes widen as her words wash over him. Bumping his nose against her in a series of Eskimo kisses, he eventually covers her mouth with his own. "That's it! If you could purify the fingers before we give them to him, that should keep Sukuna from getting to his full strength." His hands run down the length of her. "He was pretty pissed when I gave him that finger."

"I don't know if I should be disgusted or relieved that Yuji can stomach eating one of those things."

"Can we stay like this for a bit?" He moves down, resting his head on her breasts. A loud sigh escapes his lips as he closes his eyes. "I've had such a hard, traumatic day."

"Now you're just taking advantage," she responds with no real bite to it. Her hands comb through his white locks, massaging his scalp with each pass through. The only response she gets is the sound of his soft snores and the feel of his chest rising and falling slowly. At least he's getting some rest, she thinks. She'll sort out these feelings some other time.

#gojo x kagome #gojo satoru x kagome #kagome fanfic #kagome higurashi #kagome crossovers #jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha #How to tame a sorcerer #gojo fanfiction

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spencersweatervest · 2 years

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AND THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO [ONE-SHOT]

series: bad things happen bingo: unhealthy coping mechanisms, part of the talking about dahmer on your couch series

character(s): spencer reid, elle greenaway

tags: drug use, alternate universe, elle and spencer were literally bfs change my mind, they both deserved BETTER, mental instability, could be read as romantic or not but the slash is implied, non-linear narrative, ambiguous/open ending, emotional baggage, implied/referenced murder

summary: his mind is like a minefield; there's acres and acres of it and it seems endless, but there's traps under the grounds he treads carefully. if he makes one wrong move, he'll trigger an explosive that'll leave nothing but destruction in its wake. / or, spencer and elle and the things they don't talk about.

when spencer spirals, he spirals hard.

his mind is like a minefield; there's acres and acres of it and it seems endless, but there's traps under the grounds he treads carefully. if he makes one wrong move, he'll trigger an explosive that'll leave nothing but destruction in its wake.

he supposes that's why elle and him get along so well - between the alikeness of their self-destructive natures and their reckless abandon, they both understand what it's like to be trapped in a tireless, infinite loop of exhaustion where it seems like there's only one way out.

she gets it. he gets it. they don't talk about it.

there's a lot they don't talk about.

like, for instance, the way elle lies and cheats. the way she flirts dangerously with spencer, not quite on the cusp of something more. the way she kills. the way she dissappears.

or the way spencer is more than willing to follow her around, as if she has the answers to solving his problems. like she doesn't make the ever growing crack in his psyche tremble with every body he hides and every knife he cleans for her.

it's an unspoken sort of agreement.

he closes his eyes, leans his head against the back of the couch and breathes. he hears her chuckle from next to him, her feet digging under his things. he cracks open an eye.

"what's so amusing?"

"oh, nothing," she sighs, heavy and lifting, "just... y'know. life. death. inevitably. et cetera. i'm sure you've heard it all."

he hums in what she seems to see as an agreement, already knowing where she's going with this. "as have you."

she grins, snarky and sharp, and sits up, using his weight as leverage. she leans forward, her shirt riding up to reveal her back as she reaches for something familiar on the table. there's a scar on the skin, angry though faded, a pale, jagged line in comparison to the naturally tan color there. he wonders how she got it, but doesn't ask. another thing they don't talk about.

"here." she says, handing him the familiar, as if it doesn't weigh as much as a life, as if it hasn't torn down what he'd taken so long to rebuild in a matter of a minutes. a syringe, a tie, a tiny glass bottle full of near clear liquid. so little, yet so much.

he'd stop fighting it a long time ago, stopped fighting her. the incessant itch on the inside of his elbow, the shaking hands, her presence.

when he knots the ribbon, tight enough to cut off circulation if he leaves it took long, and fills the syringe and pushes into his skin, there is a moment where he is ignorantly unaware of everything. nothing exists - not him, not the dilaudid, not elle. it all dissappears.

he's unsure how long he sits there, staring blankly outside. it's storming - water racing down the window pane as lightning flitters across the sky every once in a while, accompanied by heavy thunder. it's dark, has to be past two, already, and he should be sleeping, but -

he doesn't want to move. he feels the dulaudid start to fade, and listens to the storm, and the echo of elle's laughter, and he lefts himself drift.

he watches her from where he sits on the floor, back against the wall, with the turn of the screw between his legs. she's rambling about something written in the pages - somerhing about ironically haunted ghosts and the people they leave behind.

ironic.

he glances down at the book for a second - before she snaps his fingers to get his attention back.

"what?" he asks, and she nods to the page.

"read to me."

this is something they do. it aches, beneath, somewhere, below the waves and oceans of hollowness and pain that seem to fill his lungs when he's not high out of his mind, when she asks him to do this for her. it's a simple task but it always brings him back to the before - when he was younger and taking care of his mother and his bad days looked like fingerprint shaped bruises on his arms and hiding in motel bathroom cabinets.

he wants to go back to then, even though he was always scared out of his mind, when he wasn't a heavy weighted sad. everything all those years was simple and superficial; a bad day could be solved when his mother went to bed, when his father left for work, or for good, when he didn't have to worry about anything and he could stare at his bedroom ceiling or read or take walks. none of that helps, now, not like it used to. it's all overwhelming and suffocating and so real, now. he thinks he's too far gone to be saved.

so when elle prods with a "please?", he nods.

"of course i was under the spell, and the wonderful part is that, even at the time, i perfectly knew i was." he reads, "but i gave myself up to it; it was an antidote to any pain, and i had more pains than one."

sometimes, more often than not, he is aware elle is not really there.

on the days he's lucid enough to realize this, the clear haze brings him memories that don't belong to him, or anyone, probably, but that fill the silence and emptiness that comes now, when he's off the drugs.

he imagines her in vegas, raking up thousands in gambling, and doing crazy shit like kissing girls and having one night stands and learning to live, again. he imagines her wandering the deserts of nevada, running away without a map or a plan, just her half full wallet and a benz. he imagines her settling down with a man she really loves, but not having kids, and going rock climbing and water skiing, instead.

sometimes it's other things, too.

he thinks he can see her becoming a sort of vigilante - killing people who have committed more injustices than they should be allowed to get away with. seducing rapists and stabbing them in cold blood. having a partner in crime, robbing bakes, being on the lam.

it fills his soul in a sad sort of way, to know she's still out there. he wonders how she would react after all these years, if he called or showed up on her front door step.

he never used to be like this. he used to be okay, used to be able to push through, used to have a somewhat stable support system.

he's promised a hundred, thousand times that he'll do better, he'll be good, but he always comes up just short. everytime he fails, elle is there, waiting, knife twirling and knot tying.

tonight, when he tries to fight her, a constant, losing, uphill battle, he knows immediately it will not be one he wins.

"aw, come on." she whispers, leaning in close enough he can feel her breath against his mouth. the left end of her lip quirks up and he watches as she eyes trail down to his own. "loosen up, have some fun. live a little, doctor. you won't get far in life if you're always as tense as a wind up toy." she sighs and leans back away, meeting his eyes again, "but then, there's not much of a life left for you, anyway, is there?"

and, no, there's not, not really, not in the way that matters. so, he takes the bottle and stabs it into his arm with more force than necessary. he adds another scar to his constellation of track marks below his elbow and gets high enough he can't regret it.

sometimes, elle's smiles are like the chesire cat - sharp as a butterfly knife and full of trouble. other times, in the rare moments spencer can imagine her as really, truly happy, she looks youthful and beautiful.

elle has always been beautiful in the unconventional, sad sort of way.

another thing they have in common.

he watches imaginary smoke pour from her lips as she breathes out a mouthful of cigarette, and he fills another syringe.

"bottoms up," she says.

the smile she gives him this time is poisonous.

when spencer wakes up, head pounding, stomach pooling, wrists burning, he is sickeningly disoriented.

he sits up, pushing his fingers into his temples to slave off the headache he can feel coming. he blearily opens his eyes, pulling at the red stained sleeve that covers his hand.

"long night?" elle asks.

he shrugs. "suppose."

they are playing a dangerous game of tug and war, and with every step he takes back, she pulls him two more forward. he can feel the stakes raising - elle spins her butterfly knife and his wrist has red, angry lines traced across the skin of it, and though he can't remember anything before ten the night before, he's smart enough to put two and two together.

he knows he's killing himself, but at least elle is getting a good show.

he wonders when he let it get this way; when he allowed himself to fuck up so bad, he ended up at the point of no return.

he stands up, dizzy, dizzy, head pounding, muscles tense, and stumbles into the bathroom. he falls to the floor, against the toilet, and heaves.

the only thing that comes up is bile.

"where do you go, when you leave?" he asks her, one night, eyes closed and breathing even.

she shrugs, "around."

he doesn't press and she seems unsatisfied with his lack of any real interest. that seems to be happening more and more lately - maybe he needs to lock himself in an empty doorless, windowless room and throw out the key. see how he'd survive, then.

"russian roulette, baby. you ever play?" she asks, and he sighs. images of tobias handle playing god flash through his mind and he grasps on to the feeling of awayness tighter in his mind.

"once or twice."

"really?" she tease, "and here i thought you were smart."

he doesn't answer. it's her turn to sigh.

"you're no fun." she stands and he listens to her footsteps walk away. "i'm gonna play some russian roulette."

"don't wait up." he finally responds, and he can almost hear her roll her eyes. the door opens and shuts a minute later.

he wonders what the point of all this is.

it's been a long time since he's been high like this. the come on, just add a litte more, just a little -

sometimes, more often than not, he'd rather be dead. but then, elle is smiling, again, and he is somewhere far, far away as he watches her lean towards him.

she stares at him from where she hovers above him, both hands on either side of his face, and he just stares back.

"spencer reid." she says, and shifts her weight to one arm, tapping his forehead twice with the other. "what is your pretty mind thinking about, baby?"

he closes his eyes and feels her shift again. he closes his3 eyes as she traces her lips over his neck, biting, barely. he is so, so gone.

he hums, "dying."

"again?" she asks, and collapses next to him. his arm under her neck, her arm around him, tracing shapes over his shirt. familiar. stranger.

"yes," he says, "always, these days, i think."

"what are you gonna do about it?" she asks and he shrugs.

"there's not much i can do about it. not really."

"there is one thing."

he looks over at her, can almost see her butterfly knife between her lips, like a rose in a tango.

"and you could see me, again. for real."

she'd press it against his skin until it broke, crimson red racing down his arm.

"we could be real together."

she'd pull and push and trace - intricate designs, beautiful lacerations, haunting art.

"just say yes." she whispers into his ear, and he nods.

she'd make eye contact with him, grant him the small mercy of seeing the familiar before leaving him forever.

"yes."

he closes his eyes, and lets elle dissapear.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #elle greenaway #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #jason gideon #aaron hotch hotchner #crim minds #cm #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds: writing #bad things happen bingo #badthingshappenbingo #bdthb

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

Note

❛ i’d be yours, if you asked. ❜ Lucian/Hardy 🥺

Oooof!

This prompt right here, this'll kill the John with the softness of it!

Excellent, let's make this work for the au. This takes place after the silver bullet thing, when Vardy's recovering and these two are having Feelings.

On with the fic!

"Can we go for a walk?"

Lucian looked over at Alec, who had finally left his room after a few days of recovery. He still looked exhausted and weak, but there was that stubbornness, burning in his eyes, clearly indicating that he was not going to stop asking for this. That, or he'd just slip on his shoes and walk out the door himself.

"Are you feeling well enough to do so?" Lucian asked, treading carefully.

"I'm up, that's well enough."

From what Ellie had told him of hospital stays that Alec had in the time she'd known him, he'd always try to escape the moment he woke up. He logic of being able to sit up meaning that he was well was probably how he lived his life.

Dangerous way of thinking, but Lucian had no room to talk, considering his own experiences with injuries. He did get stabbed with silver-tipped spikes and nearly passed out, yet still managed to lead a rebellion in all of the span of a few hours, so...

"Alright, let me get my shoes on." Lucian replied, standing up.

They soon found themselves walking slowly around the town in the late evening, when there were less people about. Alec was shivering in the cool breeze of the night, even though Lucian felt just fine, how terrible it must be for someone to feel like he was always living in winter weather when there was no snow about.

He'd offer his jacket, but he felt that Alec would reject it, he was prideful in his own right and didn't like asking for help.

And yet, through his recovery, he had asked Lucian for things. They were simple, down to just 'can you stay with me'. There was always the option to say 'not right now', but Lucian never said that, he always said yes. He'd sit in the room with Alec until he passed out again, to let his body recovery from the silver poisoning, to accept the blood transfusions he was receiving.

They took him off them this morning, Tess said he should be fine now, and should be able to just drink it without much trouble. Alec hadn't said much in protest to this, he just slipped himself back under the blankets and turned on his side to go back to sleep.

Well, fake going back to sleep, Lucian could tell when someone was sleeping from how their breathing sounded, but he pretended not to notice. He looked at the quiet vampire who walked beside him. "Are you alright, do we need to stop?"

He looked a bit tired, his steps slower, sluggish. Alec opened his mouth to protest, but closed it, nodding instead, and Lucian guided him to sit down on a bench nearby. They sat there for a few minutes while Alec tried to catch his breath, rubbing at his chest.

"What's wrong?" Lucian asked and Alec shot him a look, but there wasn't much fire to it, no bite.

"Chest hurts... I guess I'm pushing it."

"Do you need..." Lucian held out his hand and Alec shook his head, looking uncomfortable. "It'll help, just a small boost."

"I don't want to take more of your blood."

"You didn't take much before, you've been having your supply of human blood lately."

Alec still didn't look comfortable, looking away. "I don't wanna take more from you, Lucian. You've already... you've already done so much for me these past few days, and I don't get why."

"Don't get why?" Lucian frowned, lowering his hand. "Alec, I'm doing all this because I care about you, your safety. You frightened me when you were suffering from the silver, it had been so close to your heart."

"Not the worst thing my heart's dealt with."

"That's not the point, you could have died. You could have died because of me."

Alec looked at him now, frowning. "Is that why you're being nice? Because I saved you?"

Lucian shook his head. "No. While I am forever thankful for what you did, I... I've been by your side because I care about you. And when I care about someone, I do everything I can for them."

He licked his lips, leaning back. "I've always been this way, with my pack when I first took them in during my rebellion, I wanted to do what was best for them, because I did care for them all. And with... with Sonja, oh, I'd pluck the moon from the sky for her if she asked me to. This has nothing to do with you saving my life, Alec, I've been at your bedside for nearly a week because I want you to be safe, alive."

"You... care about me?" Alec asked in disbelief. "Even though I've been such a bastard to you?"

"You're like that with many people." Lucian smiled. "But you also have shown me kindness, you hated me at first, but I see that now this isn't the case. I apologize if this seems like a lot to put on you, but with how I feel, I see you as if you're one of mine, if you know what I mean."

He then frowned, scratched at his head. "Fuck, that sounds terrible to say, embarrassing, really. I mean, I just..."

"I’d be yours, if you asked."

Lucian turned, looking at the vampire, who was looking at him with a careful expression, one meant to hide what was really going on in his head. But there were cracks, and Lucian could tell that there was something.

"W-what do you mean?"

"I'd be yours, if you asked." Alec repeated. "Lucian, it's pretty obvious I don't have you like I did when we first met. I've come to know you in your time here, and... I don't know, I guess things have changed, for me, between us. You're not as subtle as you think you are."

"And by saying you'd be mine, you mean..?"

Alec didn't say anything, he just took Lucian's hand, intertwining their fingers.

There were no words, it was a question though. Lucian answered with a small, careful squeeze, to which Alec replied with his own.

They sat quietly together on that bench, under the streetlights, the moon and the night sky. No one said a word, but no one had to. At one point, Lucian took back his hand to remove his jacket, placing it around Alec's shoulders, just a little warmth, if he wanted it.

Alec just gave him a nod, the barest hint of a quirk of his lips, before taking back Lucian's hand.

They soon left in silence, walking back to Alec's place, back up to his room. Alec removed the jacket, setting it aside on a chair in the room, before gesturing for Lucian to lay on the bed with him. Lucian was hesitant, but still, he made himself comfortable.

The vampire laid down next to him, never saying a word, but kept himself close as he started to drift off to sleep. Lucian smiled just a little at him before closing his eyes, listening to the faint, slow heartbeat of the man next to him.

I don't think they needed to say much more after that. :3c

#the vardy au #lucian x alec hardy #john's drabbles #good omens extended universe

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rainywerewolfmoon · 6 months

Text

Rule of Fairyland

Ao3 link here Rule of Fairyland - Chapter 21 - Princessmh9 - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

Chapter 21: Alice's Enchanted Gifts

{As Genevieve rested, Ash couldn't help but feel a profound mixture of emotions—relief, guilt, and overwhelming love for his wife and their unborn child. He knew he had made a terrible mistake, one that had caused her pain and suffering, and he vowed to make amends.}

{Ash, his voice filled with regret} Genevieve, my love, I'm so sorry for what I've done. I promise I'll make it up to you. You and our child mean everything to me.

{He continued to watch over her, his heart heavy with the knowledge of the hurt he had caused, but also filled with hope for their future as a family. Genevieve moaned as she opened her eyes.}

{Genevieve softly} Ash?

{Ash, relief washing over him} Genevieve, I'm right here. How are you feeling? Is everything alright?

{She put her hands on her swollen belly with worry.}

{Genevieve scared} Ash. The baby. I forced into labor. Is it ok?

{Ash comforting her} The little one is ok. King Oberon and Reed have managed to stop the labor.

{Genevieve, tears of relief in her eyes} Thank goodness. I was so scared for our baby. Thank you, Ash, for being here. I don't know what I would do without you.

{Ash, his voice filled with remorse} Genevieve, about what I did the other sun... I'm so sorry. I can't forgive myself for putting you and our child in danger. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me. I promise to make it up to you and be a better husband and father.

{Genevieve, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and forgiveness} Ash, we've been through so much together. We'll get through this, too. We both make mistakes, but we learn and grow from them. I forgive you, my love, and I love you more than anything. Let's focus on our future together as a family.

{Ash, a sense of relief washing over him, leans in and gently kisses her forehead} Thank you, Genevieve. I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you and our child are safe and happy.

{The couple held each other's hands, their bond stronger than ever, as they waited for the moment when their child would finally be born. The door opens and the Kings and Queens with Reed and Kendra enter.}

{Albina in relief} Genevieve you awake at last.

{Genevieve confused} At last? How long have I been out for?

{Oberon} You've been resting for two suns, my dear. The premature labor took a toll on you, but Reed have been looking after you.

{Reed} We've managed to stabilize your condition, Princess Genevieve, and your child is safe for now.

{Titania} But we must continue to monitor your condition closely. You are still at risk for premature labor.

{Ash, his voice filled with concern} How is the baby?

{Reed, smiling warmly} Your little one is healthy and strong, despite the early labor scare. It seems like you have a resilient child.

{Genevieve, her eyes welling up with tears of relief} Thank you all for everything you've done for me and our baby.

{Lindir} We are here for you, Genevieve. You are family to us, and we will do whatever it takes to ensure your well-being.

{Kendra} Genevieve I need to know one thing. Who did this to you? Was it some Unseelie or Wild Hunt?

{Genevieve, recalling the events} It was Queen Nocturnia and King Sablethorn. They're from a hidden realm known as the Court of Shadows. They ambushed me and forced me into labor prematurely. They wanted my child for some dark purpose. They had me chained and give me some potion to go into labor early when Ash found me and rescued me.

{The Kings and Queens looked at each other in worry. While Kendra looked confused}

{Kendra} Court of Shadows. I never heard of that court. There has been only the Seelie and Unseelie and Wild Hunt, but never a Court of Shadows.

{Genevieve} It's a realm shrouded in darkness and secrecy, hidden away from most of the fae realms. Their motives are unclear, but their actions are malevolent. We must tread carefully when dealing with them.

{Oberon} Indeed, the Court of Shadows is a dangerous and enigmatic faction. We must gather more information about them to understand their objectives fully.

{Titania} And we'll need to bolster our alliances with other fae realms to face this new threat together.

{Albina} Genevieve, you've faced danger with courage, and we'll stand by you to protect our family and our realm. But for now, you need rest.

{Genevieve} Thank you, Queen Albina. I'll rest and recover, and then we'll face this new threat together. I won't let them harm our family or our realm.

{The nod at this as they leave, and Kendra stands guard at the door as Genevieve sits up and Ash carefully helps her.}

{Ash worried} Easy my love.

{Genevieve} What about Shadow? Is he ok Ash?

{Ash, relieved to see Genevieve awake, smiled softly at her.}

{Ash} Shadow is safe and sound in the stable. He's been well taken care of, just like you. Don't worry, my love.

{Genevieve nodded, feeling a sense of comfort knowing that Shadow was okay.}

{Genevieve} Thank you, Ash. And thank you for saving me. I love you.

{Ash kissed her gently.}

{Ash} I love you too, Genevieve. We'll face whatever comes our way together, always.

{Genevieve looks at him before sitting more upright as she clutches her stomach and covers her mouth with her hand. Ash realizing that the morning sickness was back quickly grabs the vial that had the mixture that will help her, swiftly handed Genevieve the vial.}

{Ash} Here, love. Take it slow. We'll get through this, just like everything else.

{Genevieve nodded gratefully, taking a sip from the vial to ease her nausea.}

{Genevieve} I'm grateful to have you by my side, Ash. You make every challenge easier to face.

{Ash smiled warmly at her.}

{Ash} And I'm grateful to have you, Genevieve. You're my strength, and together, we're unstoppable.

{Genevieve's smile mirrored Ash's, filled with love and determination.}

{Genevieve} Yes, together we are. Our love is unbreakable, and our family will thrive, despite any challenges we face. I'm eager to meet our little one and see it grow, Ash.

{Ash gently caressed her belly.}

{Ash} Our child is going to be extraordinary, just like their mother. We'll cherish every moment, my love, and protect him or her with all our hearts.

{Genevieve leaned in and kissed him, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment. As they held each other, they knew that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, their love would light the way.}

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

{A few suns later}

{Genevieve carefully lifts her nighty up as she grimaces at the still ugly colored burses that her swollen belly still held. They were the colors of deep purple and yellow and black. Ash watched her with a heavy heart, his eyes filled with remorse and sadness. He gently reached out and traced his fingers over the bruises on her belly, his touch soft and loving.}

{Ash} I'm so sorry, Genevieve. I promise to make it up to you and protect you and our child from any harm.

{Genevieve smiled softly, her love for him unwavering.}

{Genevieve} I know you will, Ash. We'll heal together, and our love will guide us through any darkness that may come our way.

{She lowers her nighty as she walks over to the dresser and sits down carefully her mind lost in thought.}

{Ash} Genevieve, what's on your mind?

{Genevieve} I been thinking about our fights Ash. What if they were not us fighting?

{Ash} What do you mean, Genevieve?

{Genevieve} What if it was the Court of Shadows that were making us fight and you act out the way you did.

{Ash, looking pensive} The Court of Shadows could certainly have the means and motive to manipulate our emotions and actions. If they were behind our conflicts, it means they have a vested interest in our family and our child. We should stay cautious and keep an eye out for any signs of their involvement. But no matter what, Genevieve, our love will endure any external forces. We won't let them tear us apart or harm our family.

{Genevieve smiles at this as she starts to brush her hair slowly.}

{Ash, watching her with affection} Our love is strong, Genevieve. Nothing can break us apart. We'll protect each other and our family, no matter the challenges we face.

{Genevieve, a soft smile on her face} You're right, Ash. We've faced so much together, and we'll face whatever comes our way in the future. Our love is our strength, and our family will always come first.

{Ash smiles at this as Genevieve looks at him through the mirror as she starts to style her hair.}

{Genevieve} Ash do you know if there are any Brownie's that need a home?

{Ash, intrigued} Brownies? Why do you ask, my love? Are you thinking of adding a new member to our family?

{Genevieve chuckling} No my love. I was just wondering because I think it's a good idea to give one to my sister Bella, to keep an eye on her and my niece Heidi in case she turns up here again.

{Ash, nodding in agreement} That's a thoughtful idea, Genevieve. A Brownie would certainly be a helpful and watchful presence for Bella and Heidi. I can look into finding a suitable one for them.

{Genevieve getting up} Please do my love. I be ever grateful.

{She heads over to the wardrobe and sighs.}

{Genevieve} Looks like I won't be wearing leggings and tops for a while now.

{Ash chuckles} Well, you'll still look stunning in any attire, my dear. And if there's anything specific you'd like to wear during your recovery, just let me know, and I'll have it prepared for you. Your comfort and happiness are my top priorities.

{Genevieve tries to hold back the tears as Ash looks at her worried.}

{Ash concerned} Did I say something wrong?

{Genevieve crying} Do I even look beautiful to you anymore Ash? I look and feel like a mess.

{Ash gently approaches Genevieve, his eyes filled with love and tenderness. He takes her hands in his and looks deeply into her eyes.}

{Ash softly} Genevieve, you are the most beautiful person I know, both inside and out. Your strength, your kindness, your spirit, and your unwavering love are what make you truly radiant. And even in the toughest of times, you shine like a beacon of hope in my life. Please don't doubt your beauty for a moment, my love. You are more beautiful to me now than ever before, and I will always see that beauty in you.

{Genevieve burst into tears as she hugs him. Ash holds Genevieve close, his arms wrapped around her protectively. He kisses the top of her head and whispers softly.}

{Ash soothingly} Shh, my love, it's alright. Let your tears flow. I'm here for you, and I'll always be here. You're my heart, and I love you more than anything in this world. Your beauty shines through every tear, every smile, and every moment we share together. Don't ever doubt that.

{Genevieve, her voice trembling} I'm just scared, Ash. Scared that the darkness that threatened us before will come back. I don't want anything to harm our family, especially not our little one.

{Ash gently lifts her chin and looks deeply into her eyes.}

{Ash reassuringly} We'll face whatever challenges come our way together, just as we always have. Our love and our bond are stronger than any darkness. And as for our child, they have parents who will protect them with all our hearts. You are beautiful, Genevieve, in every way, and that beauty shines even brighter in times of adversity. So let's focus on our love, our family, and the bright future ahead.

{Genevieve, her tears slowly subsiding, smiles through her emotions.}

{Genevieve} You always know how to say the right things, don't you, Ash?

{Ash grins, gently wiping away her remaining tears.}

{Ash} Only because it's you, my love. We've been through so much together, and we'll continue to face whatever comes our way, side by side.

{Genevieve nods, her heart filled with love and gratitude.}

{Genevieve} Thank you, Ash. I needed that reminder. And I promise to focus on the love and happiness that our family brings.

{They share a loving embrace, knowing that their love and bond will guide them through any challenges that lie ahead. Just then Puck appears in a flurry of sparkles and bows to them.}

{Puck} Sorry to irrupt your highnesses but your cousin Alice Kingsly is here to see you, Princess Genevieve.

{Genevieve and Ash exchange surprised glances before turning their attention back to Puck.}

{Genevieve} Alice? That's unexpected. Ok Puck I will be in the throne room shortly.

{Puck nods and disappear in a flurry of sparkles as Ash looks at Genevieve.}

{Ash} You better get dressed quickly so not to keep your cousin waiting.

{Genevieve kissing him} Thankyou Ash for being there for me.

{He smiles loving at her.}

{Ash} Anytime my love.

{As Genevieve stepped into the throne room, she smiled at the sight that was in front of her. Her cousin was kneeling on the floor in front of Willow and Aroura with the gifts she had given them. Alice had a bright smile on her face as she watches them. Aroura looked up and smiled in delight.}

{Aroura} Aunty Genevieve are you and the baby feeling better?

{Genevieve smiling} Yes Aroura me and the baby are doing well.

{Titania who been watching from her set on the throne smile.}

{Titania} Children why don't you show your father and I the gifts that Alice have given you both.

{Willow excited} Ok mother.

{They rush over to Oberon and Titania as Alice stands up and hugs Genevieve.}

{Alice} Cousin you look amazing, and you are truly glowing.

{Genevieve returned the hug with a warm smile, feeling grateful for Alice's presence.}

{Genevieve} Thankyou Alice. So how is Wonderland going?

{Alice} Wonderland is as crazy as ever cousin. Everyone is looking forward when it will start to snow again.

{Genevieve smiles but stops as she rests her hand on her bump as the child within starts to kick again.}

{Alice worried} Cousin, are you?

{Genevieve} Yes, I am fine. It's just a sore spot that the baby likes to kick at.

{Alice chuckled softly.}

{Alice} Mischievous even before birth, just like its parents, I see. But I'm glad to hear you're doing well. I did hear that you were captured and hurt. I was so worried about you cousin.

{Genevieve with a reassuring smile} I am ok cousin. Trust me.

{Alice smiling} I do trust you, Cousin. I have some gifts for the child I do.

{Genevieve} Oh you didn't have to Alice.

{Alice} I know, but I wanted to. It's not every day we welcome a new member to the family.

{She turns to the small pile of gifts and Genevieve looks around and spots two fairy maids in waiting and calls them over.}

{Genevieve} Please take these gifts to the nursery please.

{The fairy maids nod and curtsy before carefully gathering up the gifts and heading towards the nursery with them.}

{Alice} I'm delighted to see you looking so well, Genevieve. Your family here in the Enchanted Forest seems wonderful.

{Genevieve} Well I am not allowed to stress at all anymore.

{They start to walk to the nursery as Alice looks at her worriedly.}

{Alice} Why is that cousin?

{Genevieve cradling her bump.} I might go into premature labor again.

{Alice looks at her in horror} What do you mean premature labor again? What happened?

{Genevieve explains the recent events involving the Court of Shadows and the premature labor she went through. Alice listens with growing concern and sympathy.}

{Alice} That sounds terrifying, Genevieve. I'm so glad you and the baby are safe now. You must be careful and stay stress-free.

{Genevieve} Don't worry. I will.

{She opens the door to the nursery and Alice gasp at the delight of it.}

{Alice} Oh Genevieve its beautiful. Who made the mobile and the cradle and rocking chair?

{Genevieve smiling} Ash craved them himself.

{Alice is impressed by Ash's craftsmanship and looks at Genevieve with admiration.}

{Alice} He's quite talented, isn't he? These are lovely. Your child is fortunate to have such a creative father.

{Genevieve blushing} Thankyou Alice. So which gift would you like me to open up first?

{Alice excited} Oh, let's start with the one wrapped in the blue ribbon. That looks intriguing.

{Genevieve sits down on the rocking chair and starts to unwarp it. As Genevieve unwrapped the gift, she revealed a beautifully handcrafted wooden rattle adorned with intricate carvings of fairies and magical creatures. The colors were vibrant, and it sparkled with a faint enchanting glow.}

{Alice beaming} It's a special rattle, cousin. Crafted by the finest artisans in Wonderland. The fairies there blessed it with a protective charm. It will keep your little one safe from harm.

{Genevieve, touched by the thoughtful gift, smiled warmly at Alice.} Thank you, Alice. It's absolutely enchanting.

{Alice hands her the next gift} This one is from the twins.

{Genevieve accepted the gift from Alice and carefully began to unwrap it. Inside, she found a pair of tiny, whimsical baby booties, each adorned with colorful patches and mismatched buttons. They were a playful and charming creation, perfect for a child destined for adventure.}

{Genevieve, her eyes filled with gratitude} These are absolutely delightful, Alice. Twiddledee and Twiddledum have a unique sense of style. I'm sure our little one will be entertained by these.

{Alice chuckled} They insisted on picking them out themselves. They couldn't wait to have a cousin to share their antics with.

{Genevieve's heart warmed at the thought, and she couldn't help but smile.} They will be wonderful cousins, I'm sure.

{Alice handing the next gift over} This one is from the Mad Hatter the March Hare and Mallymkun.

{Genevieve took the gift from Alice, her curiosity piqued by the source of this particular gift. As she unwrapped it, she discovered a whimsical, oversized teacup and saucer, adorned with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. It was clear that this gift was inspired by the Mad Hatter's eccentric tastes.}

{Genevieve, laughing} Well, it seems our child is destined to have a tea party of their own one day. Please convey my thanks to the Mad Hatter, the March Hare, and Mallymkun for this delightful gift.

{Alice chuckled} Oh, they'll be thrilled to hear that you liked it. They've already planned to teach your little one the art of the tea party.

{Genevieve couldn't help but be amused by the idea of her child learning tea party etiquette from Wonderland's most eccentric characters.} I'm sure our child will be the most polite tea-drinking adventurer in all the realms.

{Alice then gently puts the teacup and saucer on the dressing table before handing the next gift over.}

{Alice} This is from The White Rabbit, Cheshire and Absolem.

{Genevieve carefully unwrapped the next gift, revealing a beautifully crafted, intricately designed pocket watch. The watch was exquisitely detailed, with a silver chain attached to it. It was clear that it held great significance.}

{Genevieve, in awe} This is a stunning pocket watch. It must be very special.

{Alice nodded} Indeed, it is. The White Rabbit, Cheshire, and Absolem wanted to gift your child something timeless. This watch has been enchanted to always show the correct time, no matter where you are in the realms. They hope it will help keep your little one punctual and curious about the wonders of Wonderland.

{Genevieve smiled warmly at the thought of her child carrying a piece of Wonderland with them always.} Please convey my heartfelt thanks to them for such a meaningful gift. It's truly a treasure.

{Alice beamed with delight} I'll be sure to let them know. Now, shall we open the last gift?

{Genevieve nodded eagerly} Yes, let's see what's inside!

{Alice handed over the final gift, which was wrapped in a vibrant, whimsical paper adorned with characters from Wonderland. Genevieve carefully unwrapped it to reveal a beautifully crafted wooden mobile, featuring tiny, intricately carved wooden figures of Wonderland characters.}

{Genevieve, touched} Oh, Alice, this mobile is absolutely enchanting. It's such a unique and thoughtful gift.

{Alice grinned} We thought it would add a touch of Wonderland magic to your nursery.

{Genevieve held the mobile delicately, admiring the craftsmanship.} It's a wonderful gift. Please extend my gratitude to everyone in Wonderland.

{Alice hugged Genevieve} I'm so glad you liked the gifts, cousin. And I promise to visit again soon, with or without any gifts.

{Genevieve returned the embrace} I'll be looking forward to your visits, Alice. Take care of Wonderland.

{Alice gave a playful wink} You know I will. Goodbye for now, dear cousin.

{As Alice left, Genevieve sat in the nursery, admiring the mobile's whimsical characters and feeling grateful for the support of her family, both near and far. She then used her magic to hang it above the rocking chair. The mobile floated gracefully above the rocking chair, its wooden characters gently spinning in the air. Genevieve watched with a smile as they twirled around, casting enchanting shadows and filling the room with a sense of wonder.}

{Genevieve} Perfect, now our little one will have the most magical dreams.

{Genevieve gently rocked in the nursery's cozy rocking chair, the colorful wooden mobile hanging above her, casting playful shadows across the room. She felt a sense of warmth and connection to Wonderland, even though she was miles away from her cousin and the enchanting world they both loved.}

{Genevieve whispered to her unborn child} Look, little one, all these wonderful characters from Wonderland are watching over you. You're going to have such magical dreams.

{She took a deep breath, savoring the moment, and rested her hand on her baby bump, feeling the reassuring kicks from within.}

{Genevieve} We're going to be just fine, my little wonder.

{As she relaxed in the rocking chair, Genevieve's thoughts drifted to the adventures that awaited her child in the world of Wonderland and beyond. She couldn't wait to share stories of her own travels and the magical wonders she had encountered. With each gentle sway of the rocking chair, she felt a deep sense of love and connection to the new life growing inside her.}

{Genevieve, softly singing} ♫ Hush now, my little one, in dreams, we shall roam, to places enchanted, where wonder is home. The stars shall guide you, wherever you roam, my love will surround you, my heart is your own. ♫

{As the lullaby filled the nursery, Genevieve closed her eyes, cherishing this precious moment of anticipation and joy. She knew that the adventures of motherhood were just beginning, and she was ready to embrace them with all her heart.}

#the fairyland

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masterwords · 3 years

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Are you interested in writing something about hotch having a stutter that simply appears when you are tired and the team does not find out until after a case the stress of hotch is so much that your stutter simply does not allow you to say complete sentences and you have to use language sign

I'm sorry if the idea is very specific but I really want to ask someone

Hi! I love the HC that Hotch has a stutter, it fits with so many of his mannerisms. I think it's a challenging thing to write and have come off but I did my best! I hope it comes across well, and is what you were looking for! <3

Words: ~1500

Aaron Hotchner is a man who keeps secrets. That's just how it is, and Spencer has learned over the years that the secrets he keeps are just a series of small things that when added up could leave him exposed in a way he's never going to be comfortable with. He just doesn't work that way. He has no desire to be seen or known, he is comfortable in the shadows.

Still, sometimes Spencer stumbles on these secrets by accident. Overhears him talking to Jessica, he always shares with her, he's comfortable with her in a way he isn't with anyone else. Spencer plays cards with Jack and pretends not to hear them talking in hushed tones but once he hears it, he rolls it over and over in his mind, etching it permanently knowing he'll never be able to bring it up.

If Aaron keeps secrets, then Spencer has decided it's his job to guard them.

“Reid,” Alex asks, sidling up to him. She pulls at her gloved fingers, adjusting the way they catch in the curve of her hands, the gloves are always too big for her. “Have you ever noticed Hotch stutter?”

He's caught like a deer in headlights. Lying to Alex feels wrong, out of the question, but Aaron's stutter is one of those secrets. He's only noticed it once and the look of shame on the other man's face is forever burned into his memory.

“Not really,” he says, feeling like it's pretty neutral. Not really could mean yes sometimes or I haven't really given it much thought but I listen to him talk every single day. Not really could mean many things, and Alex Blake is a linguist, she'll see right through him.

“Okay,” she softens her tone and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Spencer, I don't mean any disrespect. I was just curious because I thought I caught him rehearsing a speech or a lecture the other day and it turned out to be comments he made during the briefing before we left for this case. I've never seen anyone do that who didn't have some sort of pathological speech disorder, and my guess based on the interesting cadence to his sentences, the way he often repeats phrases and the oddly placed breaths between words was a stutter.”

He quietly observes the mantle as he digests the information. Picks at a strand of hair, bags it, eyes the framed family photos closely. He's not thinking about anything he's doing though, he's thinking about Aaron and this secret that Spencer holds in his hands right now, how to protect it. Alex sighs and moves closer to him, pulls until he makes eye contact with her.

“I'm not going to say anything to him,” she assures him softly. She has a feeling she's treading dangerously close to something much bigger than a stutter. “Spencer?”

“It's complicated,” he whispers, begging her silently to stop. “Please don't talk to anyone else about this okay?”

She won't, and Spencer knows it. He trusts Alex, so he gives her a little more information, just enough to quench her thirst for confirmation. It isn't telling a secret, it's just clinical, speech patterns and language are everything to her. But after that day, Spencer notices it more often, he'd never given it much thought before and now he can't get it out of his mind. They'll be in bed at night and he hears the faintest whisper coming from Aaron's side of the bed, so soft it may have just been breathing but he knows it isn't, he's practicing something. Some trick for his mind, some tactic to keep up appearances. He feels awful, he understands how exhausting it is to try and pretend all day that you are what people think you are, to think no one would accept or love you if you didn't live up to their very specific image of you. Spencer had embraced his oddities just enough that it alleviated some pressure but Aaron clung to his suits and his crisp haircuts and his power. He appeared shy, kept his voice low, said few words and everyone just accepted it as a part of his personality, not a cover for something deeper.

“This unsub...” Aaron says softly into the mirror, standing in his t-shirt and boxers. “Is a white male, early to mid thirties...he's t-t-t...” he pauses, closing his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Spencer watches from the shadows, he'd needed to use the bathroom but now he's frozen in place. How long can he stand there before it's creepy? “He's t-t-t...” Aaron tries again, visibly frustrated. He sinks down until he's sitting on the edge of the bath tub and presses his face into his hands.

It's 2am, he should be sleeping and he's awake practicing the profile before they give it in the morning.

“Do you do this every time?” Spencer asks, taking his chance and entering the bathroom. Aaron doesn't startle, doesn't move, like he knows Spencer has been watching. He's exhausted, he's slumped there with his face in his hands and he shrugs.

Spencer wants to tell him how incredible he is, tell him how proud he is of what he does every day and how hard he works but he knows that won't land. It's sweet, but it could also be patronizing. Aaron won't want to hear something like that, compliments fly over his head and land somewhere that Aaron has set aside for the lies people tell him. So he won't tell him any of that, won't give him the opportunity to disregard what he says. Instead, he just slips into a sleepy smile.

“Yes,” he answers, dragging his hands down his cheeks and looking up at Spencer. “I'm sorry if I woke you.” Suddenly Spencer understands, if he practices the entire profile ahead of time, he knows which parts he won't be able to do, which words will trip him up, where he'll block and that's how he assigns them to the rest of the team. It's brilliant, he thinks, and he crouches before Aaron and smiles. It's a smile of pure adoration. He puts his hands on Aaron's, holds them tight and draws his eye contact. Aaron is exhausted, barely able to sit upright, just wants to fall into bed with Spencer and sleep for days. Forget about the case and the profile, just sleep.

In his dreams he could be many things, but the best part was just that he didn't have to pretend to be someone he wasn't.

“I love to listen to you talk,” Spencer offers, finally settling on something true. “May I stay?”

Aaron nods reluctantly. He's not practicing to impress Spencer, doesn't mind the audience, so he starts at the beginning again. Spencer watches as he hits trouble spots and clenches his fist, rubs thumb against fingertip, takes long exaggerated breaths, paces. He doesn't seem nervous but he's frustrated, he repeats the profile. The same words keep giving him trouble, over and over. They're all at the beginning, it takes him twice as long to say the first two sentences as it does to say the entire remainder. Spencer expects him to get them, to be triumphant because that's what Aaron does, he wins and he does get close but by the time an hour has gone by they both know it isn't going to happen. He's tired, barely standing and if they don't go back to bed it's just going to get worse so he pleads desperately with Spencer, just a silent look, he can't talk anymore, not one more word, not tonight. Instead he does something Spencer doesn't expect, he signs. Just a simple gesture to indicate that he's done, he can't proceed any further. Furrowing his brow, Spencer wonders at it, the way he surrendered to his voice, raised his hands in the air and used them to speak instead. It's simple and short, he doesn't elaborate but his body language tells Spencer that he's on the verge of collapse. He doesn't want to step on Aaron's toes, he's clearly been doing this a long time and he's more than got it handled, but something pulls at him.

“May I start the profile tomorrow?” Spencer asks, standing and arching his back. He wraps his arms around Aaron's waist and pulls him close. “Let me lead? You let Morgan do it last time...” The last part was playful, a taunt, and he drags as smile out of the other man.

“Don't ramble...” Aaron whispers, folding himself into Spencer's arms happily. Content just to stand there in the bathroom another minute, frustration giving way to comfort and safety. Spencer huffs, indignant.

“I don't ramble,” he mutters. “Okay. Maybe a little, but sometimes there isn't enough information and they look so confused that I just...”

“Spencer,” Aaron whispers, smiling and pressing a soft kiss against Spencer's mouth. “You're already doing it.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #hotchreid #stutter #alex blake

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sukirichi · 3 years

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Hi! I hope you're doing okay. So I just had a thot. And idk what to do with it. So Imma just put it here cause your blog is my new favourite. I'm not even joking. I literally devoured everything related to Tokyo Rev on your blog. So here's my theory. Do correct me if you think I'm wrong Sensei!

Bouten husbands and where they liked to be kissed the most/ or is their weakness. (Ps: it's just my opinion. I mean no offense to anyone.)

Mikey~ Kiss him on his shoulders and he'll cry. Cause he's been bearing all the burden of his dark and decaying world for so long that he doesn't even know that he needs to take a minute for himself and rely on others around him. Especially since most ppl around him are willing to give their life and limbs for Mikey. He just can't seem to keep that in mind. So you've taken it upon yourself to remind him frm time to time. Just a little peck on his strong and broad-ish shoulders to remind him that he's not alone. That if nothing, he has you. He always will.

Rindou~ Something about being kissed on his cheeks, especially by his lover, does things to him. Like his cardiovascular muscles do a little somersault in his chest or something. Because yes, it doesn't matter if he's one of the big, scary and irreplaceable executive of Bouten, he still has an unconscious inferiority complex. Sometimes it just skips his mind that despite everything, he too deserves the world. And every once in a while you need to remind him about it. That he doesn't have to be flashy and snarky like his brother. He just needs to be himself and that he is undeniably worthy of love.

Ran~ Not many people are taller than him, you are no exception. So it makes sense that in order to kiss him you need to be on your tippy toes. And still you're only able to reach his neck. So yeah, just kiss him there. Right on his Adam's apple and he's a goner. It doesn't even have to be sexual. Ran is always the one to take charge. It's kind of in his nature and you happily oblige him. But every now and then, you also need to remind him to take a breather That he can just let go and get dotted over for a change. You're more than happy to take care of him, that he needs to be taken care off.

Koko~ This man not only, brings in the big dough for Bouten, but also beats up people while at it. To say that he's always overworked is an understatement. His hands are always doing something, illegal things most of the time. He knows he's no saint. That there's no coming back into the light. He's painfully aware. But once e intertwine your hands together and kiss him on top of his knuckles, he swears that it's his redemption. You're the only light in his dark and dangerous world.

Kaku-chan~ Please. Just kiss this man on his forehead. Please. He's literally out there, ready to give his life for the things he wants to protect. He's always doing that. Protecting the people that have gone astray, who have no more hope left. He's ready to die for them, if it means they'll keep going. So please, just once, just protect him instead. Protect him from the demons he skillfully hided in his head. Protect him from the nightmares that torment him every night. Just protect him for a change. He needs it more than he's willing to admit.

Sanzu~ Okay. Hear me out. He's deranged and he knows it. He knows he's won't bat an eye before painfully torturing someone to death. Heck he'll even do it with a smile plastered on his face. He knows that he's stained in blood almost all the time.(sometimes his own, most of the other times, not his own). He'll even relish it. He knows that he's been tainted with burden of death. He knows that he lives in the shadows. He's not sane. He's not good. He's bad. He's ugly. You can tell that these awful thoughts keep him awake at night. So when they do and he has this almost painful look on his face. Just pull him close and kiss him on his face, over and over. Kiss his scars, kiss his lips, kiss his nose, his eyes. Just don't stop until he's got your point across. That yes, it's true that he's despicable. But you still love him nonetheless.

Ps: Sorry that was too long and kinds got out of hand. But these are just my "thots". Thank you for hearing me out!~ Thot anon

hi i’m doing okay, thanks for asking n i hope you are too !! also aaah i’m glad to know my blog is your new fave, i hope you enjoy more of my future tokrev content 🥺 ALSO YES ITS HEADCANON TIME LETS GO LETS GO

mikey n shoulder kisses 🥺 i hc that mikey is stiff and rigid all the time without knowing. like you said, he has a lot on his mind and draken even said mikey had a heavy ass cross to bear, so imagine the weight and burdens he has to shoulder 🥺 so if you lean into him for a hug then kiss his shoulders, mikey deflates. to him, its like a reminder he doesn’t have to carry it all by himself all the time and poor bb forgets that often

cheek kisses for rindou 🥺 the idea of this big, bad executive infamous for breaking limbs but is actually a sucker for cheek kisses and turns into a soft lil bean when you cup his face and just smother him with love n affection? bless. rindou probably unknowingly exerts too much effort sometimes to prove something - may it be his strength, his power, or how he’s perfectly capable of fighting by himself - he’ll have that voice at the back of his head that he needs to do something. giving him cheek kisses grounds him and elicits butterflies in his stomach bcos he realizes that, “oh, i don’t have to try so hard. silly me...now more cheek kisses, please.”

ran and neck kisses !! ON THE FLOOR RN, TELL ME MORE. but yes omg i also hc that ran is such a giver and grown up to look for others the way he does for rindou, so in his head, he’s kind of drilled it into himself that he has to be the one in the lead - not necessarily in a mikey way - but in a “he needs to take charge and take his responsibilities seriously” kind of thing. like mikey, ran is probably often deep in thought as well despite his teasing mannerisms, that when you kiss his neck he can’t help but soften. he enjoys being doted on. loves to be the one on the receiving side. has the sweetest smile on his face when he gets a lil ticklish and he just feels like he’s on cloud nine <33

knuckle kisses for koko 😫 everything you said was on point !! his hands are probably so tired from fighting and counting bills all day, not to mention the amount of paperwork he has to do bcos who else will do them ?? no one knows the inner system of koko and how it works as well as koko does, and he wants to do his job right. he gets a little too absorbed in his work, however, that koko gets a little confused when you take his hands away from whatever he’s working on to leave little kisses at the pads of his knuckles, maybe even massaging his hands or playing with his fingers to help him relax a bit. and you know how koko is so good at what he does bcos its all he knows, but at the same he probably hates how he treads on this dark path ?? so when you kiss his knuckles, he feels relieved. like everything will be okay and second chances are real n something he’s worthy of

omg now this is my favorite - kakucho + foreahead kisses. forehead kisses are always so intimate and soothing in a sense. like come here so you can kiss him on the forehead, watch the way his eyes flutter close and a smile tugs at his lips when your lips trail down to his scar, all the while your hands are cupping his face with such tenderness he never really knew of. kakucho is so used to being the tough guy with his rough childhood that it almost feels surreal. surreal that he’s in bed, with you, safe and sound and you’re kissing his forehead so comfortingly he doesn’t have to worry about putting his walls down for a second. he feels safe. he feels at home. but most of all, he knows he’s not alone and he has you - his family

kissing sanzu’s scars 🥺 everything you said was beautiful n i can totally see it happening !! as much as we all know sanzu takes great pleasure and finds entertainment in what he does, it sinks down a little too late. when he’s not high, that’s when he feels the lows. when the blood on his hands are dried, that’s when he realizes it gets harder to wash them off until it stains deep all the way into his soul. then his scars. he sees his scars and remembers how he has to hide them at some point. he stays awake at night and oddly enough, silent and unmoving. and what better way to ease his worries than to pull him close and just to kiss his scars that he thinks are only one of the ways the darkness - the ugliness - of his soul shows through. keep him close and kiss his scars. sanzu may not always be in the right mind to understand your words, but the simple gesture of showing love and acceptance to a part of him that makes him a whole will engrave deep into his heart. leave him butterfly kisses. kiss him from everywhere to his eyes until they flutter close to sleep. kiss his nose adoringly until they scrunch so cutely. kiss his lips until its your taste that overwhelms him. and kiss his scars to remind him his imperfections are accepted and loved

#asks with naoya's trophy wife #thot anon #ANON I LOVED THESE THANK U FOR SHARING ME UR THOTS 😭#I loved them all especially the kaku n sanzu one 🥺#i swear you guys keep making me soft for sanzu LMAOOO #👔 ― bonten! husbands exclusives #long post #unedited

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develation · 3 years

Text

A Lifeguard's preach- please read

Okay, hi, welcome to my Ted talk. So surprise for some of you but I work as a lifeguard, and I have some things to say about my experience for the 2 years I've worked as one.

A lot of people have decided it's okay to crap on first responders lately, which is a subject I will lightly touch on. But pool lifeguards have been under-appreciated for a very long time. The pool I work at is like a mini-waterpark. We have slides, basketball hoops, a water playground, a lazy river (with tubes), an obstacle course, and concessions. Were not just your neighborhood pool, which means there are more dangers to look out for. Because you can tell yourself that things never happen, but that's a lie. Every day, things always happen.

So today I was walking my stand (grazing stands there called because you walk back and forth for 20 mins straight and then move to the next stand to do it all over again for another 20 mins. repeat that process for 2 hours on lazy river rotation). And this lady decided to sit right in the middle of where I'm walking. Now in lifeguarding, we have to keep a 10/20, which means 10 seconds to see someone and 20 seconds to get to them. And the zone I'm on is SCS which is the little kid playground, y'know, with TODDLERS AND BABIES EVERYWHERE. So in order to properly scan my zone and make sure none of these babies start choking on water, I ask her to move. And she looks at me and goes, "well you should have a sign there that says that." She moves, but did this lady seriously tell me that we should have a sign that says- "Please don't sit in the Lifeguards way. They are trying to make sure you and your child don't die." Like what?!

It's not just her, I alone have been disrespected so much on this job, it's stupid. I've had moms tell me to LEAVE MY ZONE and go get their kid because it will be my fault if they drown when the mother herself is on the other side of the lazy river. I've saved a boy and the mother said, "He was fine. I'm not filling out the paperwork, I just want to enjoy my last ten minutes here." Like, YOUR FUCKING WELCOME.

I am so sick of this. Do people don't even know the amount of training we do just to even work? I have at least 200 hours of training, and I don't even work the full year's cuz of school. It's not just CPR y'know? I know how to and train to handle Rescue-Breathing, seizures, chest compressions (yes, that is different from CRP), allergic reactions, heat stroke, burns, chemical burns (mostly for employees because we work with that stuff), Heimlich, Spinals (head, neck, and back injuries), eye trauma, and more. I, WE, may be no police officer or EMT, but we know our shit.

For working in general, while you're sitting in that cool water enjoying life. Where sitting there (or even worse, walking) in 2-hour rotations sweating our asses off. You can talk about those umbrellas we get on sitting stands all day BUT THEY DON'T DO CRAP. Because the sun MOVES in the sky. And most shifts are from 10:45 to 6:30, open to close. I have only worked 3 shifts that haven't been 7 or 8 hours long.

"What about lunch breaks?" well guess what, we don't get one! Every 2 hours we get 17 min breaks (15 guards on stand and 3 in break room at all times, that's how our rotation works) that could be interrupted at any moment because people don't drown on a schedule. My water bottle is broken (it leaks) from how many times I've thrown that thing when a long whistle goes off.

Just imagine, you're sitting there eating your well-deserved sandwich, slipping some water from your water bottle, chatting it up with the other guards. And then out of fucking nowhere- BRRRRRRRRRRRRR- *Hi this is adrenaline, I'm gonna turn all the way up now* "OH SHIT SOMEONE'S DROWNING FUCK FUCK FUCK-." And now you, your boss, and other 2 break guards are sprinting full speed across the pool deck trying not to trip over your own equipment. With your food and water bottle forgotten on the concrete of the guard-room floor. [It was a very sad day. I had ordered Jimmy Johns just for that...]

I have saved 8 people, all of them children. And every day, there are at least 2 saves, which means someone is drowning and a lifeguard has to jump in for them. Realistically though? There have been too many days for me to count where there were 8 or if not more saves. People take pool safety for granted, there fucking idiots who think that just because they're tall enough to go down the slide they can swim in the 12-foot deep catch pool. They think that they can go in the lazy river without a tube. Or that they don't need a lifejacket. Parents are idiots, who don't watch their children. In one of my saves, I watched a kid disappear underwater in front of me. One second they were above water and the next, just gone. It's not like the movies guys, there's no screaming or splashing. There's the weird doggy paddle, and then they stop making distance and are weirdly treading, and then they're gone. And then you have to pick out from the kids who are floating with their backs on the surface, the kids who pretend to drown for fun, and the adults who think it's okay to "test" the lifeguards.

Just today, within the first 20 mins of open we have a lady pass out. There's something horrifying about holding someone's limp body in your hands and them not waking up. Last year we had a lifeguard pass out from the heat on the lazy river. Just flop straight onto the pavement. In years past we had a woman have a heart attack on the deck. We kept her alive until EMS arrived but she died in the hospital 3 days later. There was another lady who busted her knee open and bled everywhere. Stuff always happens.

I make $10.86 an hour to save people's lives and get shit on while doing it. It's not everybody, I meet those parents who say, "Don't worry, I'll yell at them." Those kids whole actually put their tubes back and put back the tubes that everybody left right next to the corral. That one dude who filled up my water bottle with his water because, "I looked like I was melting and needed something good today". Those girls who say I'm pretty despite all my scaring and me having short hair (yes I have gotten judged for being a girl and having short hair). But most of the time, we are ignored and looked down upon.

Trust me, we don't mind small talk. Or making jokes, telling stories. We just want to be appreciated. And I just don't feel that most of the time. My bosses have been amazing to me, and they are one of the only reasons I come to work with a smile on my face. But above all that, I just want to fulfill the childhood-old dream of being a hero. Of saving a life. I know I'm not quite suited out for firefighting or EMT's or policing.

But I'm still doing it. And I would like for others to just see me, instead of yelling at me for saving their child's life.

#lifeguard #first responders #text post #please read #please reblog

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

It's Task Force 141's first mission after gathering intel about the whereabouts of Samantha Coleman. Gary and the rest of the team proceed to briefing and would probably head straight to their rescue mission. Do these mini summaries even make sense? Find out soon.

Chapter 3 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Soap - F.N.G.

"Run Through the Jungle"

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 - Mess Hall

Gary was almost done with his raccoon story when the PA system alerted them of an immediate briefing. Simon nodded to him and got up making his way to the briefing room. Gary also noticed the rest of his squad from earlier walk to the door, and was France crying on Alex? Much to his curiosity, he went to John who was still sitting by the chair.

"Anything you want to tell me, Soap?" he asked, patting his comrade's shoulder.

"Bugger off, mate. Let's just go to the meeting." he replied, Roach couldn't tell if he was sad or disappointed or mad, but it may have something to deal with France crying.

"Whatever mate. I'm always here if you want to talk it out." he assured, and he was in fact true. It's been a month since the Task Force was created and Gary was the team's therapist, everybody's friend and ally no matter what. He always felt that he could feel everyone's emotions and believes he could be a sponge for someone who's unable to deal with the trauma. Ghost was one of his customers, he had a lot to deal with and Gary was always there for him.

"Few hours ago, our informants intercepted with a group of armed men on a safehouse near the borders of Germany. They told us that there was a man named Augustus who happens to be our step closer to Nero." Gary took note of the information General Shepherd relayed, his scribbles became faster as the General continued.

"We also received word that our hostage, Samantha Coleman is with them in one of these houses. We have to proceed with caution as this area may be rigged with traps or surrounded with tangos." he added.

"As for rules of engagement, fire only when fired upon. This is a local settlement and civilians may be anywhere. We don't want to create unnecessary civilian casualties just to retrieve a single person." he instructed. Gary took a quick survey of the room, everyone looked at the screen intently, he could see MacTavish's eyebrows furrowed in anger, France's eyes were downright sad and Alex, despite being a CIA agent, actually looked worried.

"As for assignments, I'll let your captain take the floor." Shepherd concluded and exited the area, Price then stepped forward and began briefing.

The silent chirping of the crickets echoed from the nearby forest. Gary took a cold exhale and leaned on the railings just outside their quarters.

"Big day tomorrow, huh?" Ghost surprised Roach as he spoke.

"Yeah, it's been a long time since I spotted, but I still know the basics." Gary answered. He and Ghost were assigned for sniper support a few clicks away from the Alpha Team lead by Alex and the Bravo Team lead by Captain Price.

"Your math is good and fast?" Ghost asked, chuckling at the question. Gary inhaled before he answered the question.

"Yeah. Try me." he dared, glancing at the masked man.

"Suppose there's a target about 516 meters far, the wind is one half value." Ghost planned out the situation. Gary's gears started turning as he scratched his freshly shaven chin.

"Five degrees. Descending." he muttered. Ghost thought about it and agreed.

"Yeah. Your math is still on point." he mused laughing at him.

"What do you think Nero is up to? I mean it all doesn't add up. And what's with erasing memories?" Gary flooded the man with questions. Simon just pondered without saying any words.

"I dunno mate. I'm as baffled as you are." he replied, waving to Alex and France who were out on a late night walk.

"Say Gary, what's the deal with the new girl? One minute she looks tough as nuts then the second Soap comes in she's fucking crying?" Ghost rambled. Gary could feel a hint of jealousy but not entirely. It's as if he's mad and jealous at the same time.

"Well, we were too far from their table and I couldn't hear anything. Maybe they had an argument while Soap was out with her on the training room?" Gary speculated, he saw Simon's fists clench as he left his side.

"Eh. Not that I care anyway. Get some rest, spotter. Big day tomorrow." he remarked and went to his room.

"Yeah yeah." he replied waving at the two walking around the oval. They both waved back and Gary yelled good night to them before entering the quarters himself.

Gary plopped on his bed and closed his eyes. He was actually nervous enough that he could hear his own heartbeat, he took deep breaths and lulled himself to sleep. He wanted to see to it that they save the hostage tomorrow and a perfect sleep is what he could contribute right now.

GERMANY

0458H

Gary hated the ghillie suits. It was heavy, uncomfortable and animals sometimes land on you, but it does the job well. Treading the dense forestry just above the safehouse, Gary and Simon head out to look for a perfect spot.

"This one's got a view of the houses." Ghost whispered, signaling Roach to move forward.

"This is Echo Three One, we've cleared the two houses on the right, all empty. Over." Alex reported over their comms.

"Bravo Six copies that and the two houses here are also clear." Price reported.

"Looks like it's going to be the one on the far side." Soap concluded.

"I've got eyes on the safehouse. There's no activity on all windows. Proceed with caution." Ghost reported.

"Rog." Price replied.

"Copy that, eye in the sky." Alex replied.

Gary put out his spotting scope and placed his eye behind the lens.

"I've got my eyes on them, Ghosty. Alpha Team is on its way." he whispered.

Ghost rolled some knobs on his sniper making a soft clicking sound as he spins it.

"Don't call me that, Bug. I have eyes on Bravo Team. Still no movement from the safehouse."

"This is Alpha Team, approaching the left side of the safehouse."

"Bravo Team is Oscar Mike as well."

"Roach, did you see that?" Ghost whispered.

"Yeah. The winds are shifting." Gary noted, sticking out a tool that detects wind speed.

"Three Fourths value at 400 meters. 15 miles per hour. Adjust to 15.3" he informed, calculating on Ghosts still shoulder with a pen. Decimals are too dangerous to calculate mentally. Ghost's sniper clicked once again to adjust with the wind, he took a deep breath and his targets stabilized once again.

Leaves rustled behind them, Roach quickly held on his rifle and slowly turned back to check if it was an animal. Nothing, but before turning back on his scope, he saw a black figure from the corner of his eye.

"Bollocks. We've got movement on our Six." Roach reported.

"Remember our ROE, Roach. Fire only when fired upon." Price reminded.

"I'll take care of it from here. You go check on that." Ghost said as he turned back to his scope.

"Roger that. Be safe." Roach quickly ran to the direction if the rustling.

He couldn't make out much of the figure, but he was sure enough it was human. He tried to look for areas where the leaves were disturbed but with the wind picking up, he was clueless. Then there it was again, movement. He quickly dashed to it's direction, not wanting to get lost again. His boots slapped the fresh soil as he made his wauy to a clearing.

'Left, right then left by the rocks.' Gary mentally noted his each turn so he could easily remember but when he's chasing someone whom he felt like it doesn't know where it goes, then it's a whole different story.

Gary was alone in the windy forest, in pursuit of a person who's out on the woods at five in the morning. He wanted to go back but there's something that bothered him and convinced him to keep chasing it.

"Roach, you okay? They're almost in the safehouse." Ghost pointed out.

"Yeah haaaah… I'm still haaaah… hot on its trail." Gary panted. He suddenly turned when he heard a yelp.

"It's a girl. It might be our hostage." he radioed and followed the direction of the sound.

Soft sobs and English curse words could be heard from where Gary emerged. This alerted the injured female and she plead at the British solider.

"Please. I'm not an enemy. I'm I'm- I don't know who I am or where I am… Please. Don't hurt me." She was an American girl, possibly around 20-30 years old and had blonde hair wearing a black tank top and grey sweatpants, there were a few bruises on her arms and she was threatening him with a stick.

"Maam, put down your weapon and calm down. I will not hurt you." he dropped his weapon slowly on the ground stepped forward, his hands both raised.

"Good good. I need help." she whimpered, looking at her sprained ankle.

Gary immediately took his ghillie off and ripped a piece of his sleeves to wrap around the sprain, treating it with something from his medical kit.

"There you go… You're feeling better now? Maam?" Gary accommodated. The unknown blonde nodded in agreement.

"So.. you don't know who you are?" Gary asked.

"All I know is that I'm with another girl, Brunette." she added.

"I located the one out on the woods. She's American but I can't ID her. She's about 20 - 30 years old, short blonde hair." Gary informed.

"Is that Maxine?" Alex and France simultaneously replied over comms.

"Excuse me. Do you go by Maxine?" Gary asked politely. The girl quickly covered her ears and screamed.

"Aaaaaah! My head hurts!" She yelled. Gary was quick enough to cover her mouth as soon as she opened it as to not give away their presence.

"I don't know if that's a yes or a no guys. But that definitely is a reaction." Gary said over the comms. He assisted "Maxine" and lifted her up as he tries to get back to Ghost.

"Thick trees everywhere. Any Idea where you are Ghost?" he asked over the secure radio.

"I'm at the same spot I've been since we got here. Can't you retrace your steps?" he replied.

"I could try." he muttered, carrying an unconscious woman on his shoulders across the jungle.

Next Chapter : Déjà vu

#horRAYfic #codmw #codmwfic #gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley #alex echo 3 1 #Roach deserves some love

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elizabethrobertajones · 7 years

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up until now I've liked mary a lot but after this ep I'm so frustrated. she's demanding not to be treated like the mom of small kids when what she's doing is clearly for the sake of her small kids (who I don't think she's fully accepted are gone forever), not her adult sons. it's hypocritical and what's worse is it didn't feel like the show was condemning her actions. but I'm worried I'm being misogynistic? bloggers I respect keep saying that's what anyone mad at her is being and idk what to do.

I’ve been sitting on this for days and I have no idea how to answer it… I don’t think it’s inherently misogynistic to hate Mary if you have genuinely good reasons not to like her and can explain why she’s completely rubbed you up the wrong way. Still, if you think the show isn’t condemning her and are seeing her actions as extremely negative, and don’t WANT to feel this way, then I could suggest that the show IS trying to make her sympathetic instead of antagonistic, and you’re feeling a disconnect with that?

You could maybe try and look for something like thinking the writing isn’t giving you enough reason to care upfront about her, but I’ve been feeling like it’s a fan fic kind of thing - we KNOW who Mary is and why she matters as soon as she arrives, so she’s not some random character who needs sympathy and understanding and a reason to trust built up by the narrative as part of the introduction to her - that all kind of comes almost without saying, because she’s always had an emotional role in the story so a premade reason to care about her already exists in the narrative even if we start by looking at it only that Sam and Dean care about her rather than why we do.

And that’s also the thing she and Sam and Dean are dealing with - textually, all laid out, their problem is the different levels of love and care they have for each other. Objectively, abstractly, they love her, just like we might be predisposed to care about Mary before we ever knew her. And then it challenges that - goes for the themes about what family REALLY is. Mary only knows a version of Sam and Dean who were babies and isn’t invested in OUR Sam and Dean we’ve grown to know over 12 years. We ALL have some work to do to care about her, which is entirely the point the show is making. They’ve dropped a brand new character on us but tell us, here, it’s Mary Winchester, their missing mom, how do you feel about that?

So yeah, you can find her hard to like, and question her motives, or feel like she has no place here and none of that is misogynistic if you’re not certain she belongs or it’s a bad story choice or that they’re not doing enough to make us like her. They KNOW that and that these are the challenges and that they’re also fighting against her crappy history on the show of being written as a perfect saint character, who would be completely uninteresting if she showed up and solved everything by loving them immediately for who they are and causing them no trouble or whatever.

But the show isn’t going to condemn her actions because it’s trying to ask us to like her, and thinking that it SHOULD be condemning her is I think dangerous towards ending up hating her irrationally, which then immediately opens up that accusation, because the show is always going around giving us a sympathetic view on the actions of the other main characters. Sure, people get angry towards Sam or Dean or Cas and feel like they’re the hugest douche ever and need to be called out and made to suffer for their actions, but the writing treats them very sympathetically and takes it as an assumption that they’re main characters and we’re going to care about them, and doesn’t write for the factions clustering protectively around anyone.

Mary’s getting the same treatment. She’s on the inside, the little group of main characters who are the ones we’re meant to be rooting for; she’s given scenes that show how she’s suffering or that she’s the sympathetic one in the room, or to help us understand why she’s making her decisions. If we want to care about her we can pick up on all of that and construct a flawed but good character who is messed up and grieving and trying her best with like, terrible understanding of her resources and all the old Winchester communication issues which have made every season such a delight of miscommunication and people not reaching out for help when they should have (Cas being a Winchester too in this case). The fact she’s most closely re-treading steps CAS took and that he’s been redeemed and accepted into the family wholeheartedly and got the big “i love you all” moment means a LOT about how I think we should feel about Mary. And whose standards we’re holding her to - namely, the exact same standards we hold Cas to.

It’s really sneaky writing, paralleling her exactly to Cas in this season and with her past actions; giving her and Cas identical moments all over the place, because it links them together in such a way that I think if you don’t know how else to relate to Mary, you can relate to her through how you’d react to Cas doing and feeling the same.

I mean, yeah, she’s done some shady stuff and is making poor parenting decisions but all the stuff showing how she’s struggling with everything? They way they made me feel sympathetic and sorry for her in the start of the season was not like, currency she had to spend and after a point she runs out. It’s like, well, they want Mary to be sympathetic, so now I am going to sympathise with her until it’s clear I’m no longer meant to. And there are clear nods we’re meant to sympathise with her still, for example the start of the episode, paralleling her and Ketch’s reaction to the monster killing thingy - he’s OBVIOUSLY a creep who gets off on that. She looks horrified. Later in the episode, Sam also looks horrified at MoL methods, while Dean is paralleled to Ketch as being more sympathetic. Whatever else Mary is doing, it’s blatant to me she’s meant to be a good main character with morals at the HEART of her character that are supposed to be good and therefore it’s safe to sympathise. So everything else she does, I make the same allowances and explore her reasoning as if Sam or Dean or Cas was the one currently fucking up?

I suppose people talking about misogyny use it a lot as shorthand for internalised misogyny where you’re not intentionally doing it but it’s just HARD to learn to sympathise with female characters, and the fact we have 3 leads who fuck up bad all the time, and then a 4th character joins who happens to be a woman, is set on a path of identical fuck ups, and is immediately loathed by some, just sets alarm bells ringing. The good thing about internalised misogyny is that you don’t MEAN to do it, can be made aware of it, and then make a conscious effort to understand and address your actions.

And tl;dr this is how I end up in an alarming number of ridiculous circular conversations with people who don’t understand why I like Cersei Lannister and what I mean by “good character” or how I don’t just look at her and hollar for her blood :P

#Asks #not that Mary is anywhere near as bad as Cersei #I just #*grinds teeth*#every... time...#I should just pretend I hate her but that perpetuates stuff probably #12x14 #Mary F Winchester

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