#but no one in game ever talked about him. to mention his pronouns? turns out. there's ONE line of dialogue where the post office fucker in

[front-facing-pokemon]

#spinda #AAAHHHH YES!!! our belovèd spinda. from their café!!! probably one of my favorite minor characters from pmd sky #whom i don't even think was in the original explorers games. i think spinda's café was exclusive to sky. if i'm remembering correct #ly. or maybe that was shaymin village. i know shaymin village was for sure but maybe it was just that and not both of them. either way #have a delicious drink and allow the flower of conversation to bloom! i could quote spinda all day. he had “hopes and dreams” before toby #ever did. THAT'S ALSO like i had no idea what spinda's pronouns were. i kept trying to figure it out because i talked about him quite a lot‚ #but no one in game ever talked about him. to mention his pronouns? turns out. there's ONE line of dialogue where the post office fucker in #shaymin village mentions him and calls him a he. i think that's the only time spinda is referred to in the third person with a pronoun #i believe it's when they're talking about like. how you can send gifts or whatever and pick up the characters' responses at spinda's café #which is still a really fucking good feature. of any video game. SEE WHAT I MEAN spinda and their café is just an incredibly good Thing #it's to the point where my home wifi network is named “Spinda's Café Wi-Fi” because i love it so much. so if you're ever runnin around #and you see a wifi network by that name… it might be me! you never know! or… it could be the real deal. the real spinda's café is somewhere #nearby…! ugh. i wish. i would go there immediately #not even to mention all the other shit about this pokémon that's really good. like that they never walk in straight lines or whatever #their little dance. it's just. huUGHKLJKAHJVDHJHDAJSVGD i love spinda. a nice pick-me-up after the underwhelmingness that was grumpig #shake it this way… shake it that way… and stir it all around… and it's done!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Simon "Ghost" Riley Headcanons

Summary: You were just a civilian caught in the crossfire, kidnapped by a cartel and held prisoner. And now, after being rescued by Ghost, you may wonder if you are any safer with him than you were out there.

Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of physical abuse, memory loss/amnesia, loss of ability to walk (temporary), yandere behaviour, toxic behaviour, possessive behaviour, kind of slow burn,  romantic tension, Ghost gets jealous, somewhat angsty in some parts, very fluffy in others (a good balance), mentions of interrogation, Reader showcases anxiety, no use of pronouns for Reader except ‘you’, mentions of games,

Wordcount: 7,581 words

You were a tourist who was in the wrong place at the wrong time - seen things you weren’t meant to see.

And that’s how you ended up here, chained up in a warehouse for what you could only have guessed to have been a couple of months.

You were barely kept alive by restricted rations of food and water the cartel members gave you, needing you alive but just weak enough to not be able to fight back.

They kept you around for their own amusement, hitting you, beating you, humiliating you.

You missed your family, your friends, your old life. You truly believed, with a heavy heart, that you’d die here without ever getting the chance to see them again.

Until…

It had all happened so fast that you couldn’t keep up with it all.

One minute there was a group of men playing poker at a table nearby, the next they’d all been blown away by some nigh-silent, unseen force.

As soon as it had began, it was all over, though gunfire resonated from deeper within the warehouse.

Your heart thudded, your mind hazy and heavy yet just about conscious enough to acknowledge a set of heavy, booted footsteps nearing you.

A walkie-talkie crackled, followed by a deep, gravelly voice.

“One potential hostage found. Commencing collection now.”

The chains keeping you tethered to the metal post were cut and your hands fell.

You barely had the strength to lift them, nevermind your head, which lolled forward, gaze fixed in your lap.

The person who you presumed to have released you knelt down before you. A gloved hand pushed against your forehead, forcing you to look at them.

He was ghastly.

His flesh face was covered by a second, the insignia of his endoskeleton splayed across a dark mask. His eyes were dark and seemed to swallow all light that tried to glimmer within them.

“Can you talk?” he said. His voice was calm yet lacked patience, as if he knew time was short.

You could barely move, barely think.

You said nothing.

The man took your non-answer and moved to lift you, keeping an arm under yours and the other firmly holding his gun.

Now, stood at full height, walking on legs you hadn’t used in months, your body couldn’t handle it.

Your blood pressure dropped and so did you.

The man grunted as your weight collapsed into him, almost taking him with you.

You fell unconscious, and the man rearranged you, slinging his gun over his shoulder and carrying you in his arms.

The next time you awoke, the setting was drastically different.

The dust-filled, sweltering warehouse you had grown accustomed to had given was to a blindingly white facility, the scent of streilisers and medicine filling your nostrils.

You couldn’t move much, body heavy yet soul willing, and your eyes shifted beneath hooded lids.

A machine beeped closeby, one you recognised to be mimicking your heartbeat. The rest of the room was quiet, save for the turning of paper somewhere.

The surface beneath you was plush, encompassing you, unlike the warehouse floor.

Putting the pieces together, your heart began to pound. The heart monitor copied.

A nearby nurse rushed to your side, turning your head this way and that and shining a  light in your eyes, talking at you rather than to you.

The rest became a blur.

Doctors visited, recorded your condition. You didn’t know where you were but you knew you were safe. For now, at least.

Some officers came and tried speaking to you, only to find you unable (or unwilling) to talk.

This came as a discovery to you, too.

Soon after waking up, you found that your mind, your memories, were blank. Nothing of your prior self remained save for an overview of your torturous time in captivity, and…

That mask.

The man who’d saved you.

You found it hard to speak, not having done so properly in months save for begging for your life and crying whenever you were alone.

When one of the officers asked you if there was anything you needed, your body acted on instinct, by reflex, and came out with only one word.

“Skull.”

Ghost was stationed by you shortly after that, having been known to be the one who brought you back to Base and the only one to resemble the ‘skull’ you’d spoken of.

The task was…mind numbing, to say the least.

After your singular request for the man who saved you, you went silent again.

No words, no noises, just you sat in the hospital bed, dead to the world.

Nobody could coax a word from you, not even Ghost, as you heard him introduce himself.

The events of the last couple months had forced you into a state of “Dissociative amnesia,” as the doctor had put it. “Rare, but real.”

The doctor said it could take a while for you to regain your memories, and until then, you would have to be kept under supervision.

No permanent thoughts crossed your mind during your period of blankness. They flitted in and out of your consciousness as a phantom would.

Ghost had only tried interacting with you two or three times, the first being his introduction, the others being an attempt at getting any sort of response from you.

Nothing worked, and you were both resigned to sitting in silence with one another.

Days passed, you weren’t sure how many.

Ghost was getting impatient.

He knew you could be a key witness to the cartel’s deeper activities, but he knew he couldn’t force your cooperation. Not while you were practically vegetative, at least.

Ghost sat on a chair by your bedside, all but resembling a mannequin.

He stared into the distance.

“Oh,” came your small, croaking voice. “It’s you.”

Ghost almost didn’t turn to look at you, believing the voice to be a hallucination.

He hazarded a glance and almost considered jumping.

You looked at him, dead into his eyes, conscious, talking.

Another blur of activity surrounded you immediately after, Ghost alerting the doctors to you becoming vocal again and leaving them to do their job not long after.

Tests were run, your memory was tested (of which there was still little), and the better part of a day was spent observing you, trying to determine whether you were ready for interrogation or not.

Luckily, the higher-ups seemed to feel lenient, giving you longer to recover until you were expected to produce answers to their copious questions.

In the meantime, Ghost was assigned to you day and night, both as your protector and observer.

He was…quiet, to say the least.

Rarely spoke unless spoken to, meaning he was of little entertainment to you in your bed-bound state.

This led to you trying to make small talk, regardless of whether Ghost would respond or not.

Little did you know that, despite his lack of participation, Ghost was listening to every single word you said.

During a one-sided conversation, you mentioned colouring, an activity you liked when you were younger.

“Yeah!” you said, face lighting up as you slowly recalled a memory of your younger self, colouring book in tow. “I remember that my grandma had this old, really old colouring book that she gave me. It was vintage, smelled like antique book pages, sweet,”

Ghost watched you, listened. He saw your face light up. You looked at him, eyes smiling.

“It was nearly as old as her when she gave it to me; I was terrified of ruining it so I never coloured in it. Just kept it safely on my bookshelf, looked at the pictures before bed…”

The day after, Ghost came to you with a colouring book and a box of pencils.

“Not exactly vintage, but it’ll do,” he said, laying the book and the utensils on your bedside.

You smiled up at him as he settled into his seat.

“Thank you, Ghost,” you said, smiling. “I mean it.”

Ghost offered minimal input whenever you spoke to him, which you still did while you coloured the pictures.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

After that, over the course of a week, more memories came back to you.

They were small, inconsequential at best, but they were evidence that you were making a fast recovery.

And Ghost was there to hear every single one of them.

Whenever you came out with something new, he’d write it down in a Base-issued notebook, telling you to slow down whenever words failed you, your mind wrapped up in splinters of who you were - who you are.

And you would glance at his notes every now and then.

“Wow,” you said, suppressing a smile. “Your handwriting’s worse than mine.”

“I’d like to see you do better,” Ghost replied, barely casting you a glance.

You reached for the pen, which Ghost withheld from you until he realised what you were trying to do.

Now, equipped, you turned to a new page in the notebook and tried writing something.

It came out like a doctor’s signature, merely cursive scribbles that meant nothing to the untrained eye.

Ghost eyed your work.

“What you tryna write?” he said, accent rough.

You bit your lip, trying to focus all your efforts on making what was in your head come out onto the paper.

“My name,” you said.

Ghost seemed to straighten up at that.

The memory was weak, a fawn stumbling on its wiry legs, trying to find purchase.

But it was there, behind frosted glass. You could vaguely make out the letters which would be the key to your existence.

You kept scrawling, muscle memory having weakened significantly, until you hit upon a  familiar pattern.

The ‘letters’ were indecipherable, even to yourself. The memory of your name began to fade, and, though you grasped at it, you were left with nothing as it was consumed by darkness.

You stopped writing, defeat overtaking you.

“Why’d you stop?” Ghost asked, looking up from the notebook to you.

You felt tears fill your eyes, tried to keep them in.

“I forgot again,” you said, voice cracking.

The pen lay limp in your hand, and Ghost removed it, putting it down.

The fabric of his glove against your skin sent a jolt through you, unexpected but strangely comforting.

“Well,” Ghost said, a temporary solution coming to him. “How ‘bout we give you a new name, just ‘til you find your real one.”

You sniffed, tried smiling at the gesture, and nodded.

You went back and forth for a while, trying to think of a name that would suit you based on the limited information you had about yourself so far.

“It needs to be nice,” you said. Ghost gave a slight inclination of a nod. You kept thinking.

“Fawn,” Ghost said.

His eyes bore into you, though you suspected that was just his disposition rather than him intentionally trying to spook you.

“How’s that sound?”

You tried the name on your tongue, then, you beamed.

“I like it,” you said, giving Ghost a grateful smile.

From that day on, Ghost referred to you as Fawn, a name that the rest of the Base staff called you, too, having nothing else to call you.

Ghost never told you why he picked that name. Perhaps he saw something in you that resembled your namesake. Your newborn optimism, perhaps.

At your bedside night and day, Ghost became the first and only witness of your memories as they slowly revealed themselves to you.

Some were light-hearted, some were filled with the natural sorrow found in human life, and some were downright embarrassing; all of which gave Ghost gradual insights into who you are.

He eventually seemed comfortable enough to make fun of your more embarrassing ones, such as the time you went to a store your crush worked at, only to find that you had toilet paper stuck to the heel of your shoe the entire time.

This became somewhat of a joke between you and Ghost. One that the staff seemed to find confusing.

Whenever staff escorted you to and from the bathroom, Ghost would look down at your feet.

“No toilet paper to worry about this time,” he’d say.

Your face would burn at the memory, but you’d laugh regardless.

You also forced him to listen to music that came to you as visions from another time, tunes which you’d hum to Ghost, who recorded them, took them to whoever, and would come back with the song it originated from.

Soon, you had three or four CDs which contained music you’d enjoyed before your amnesia.

They all felt and sounded familiar. Comforting.

You’d implore (guilt trip) Ghost to listen to them, too.

His face - his eyes, really, the rest of it was covered - were blank as you passed him the headphones, preparing himself to listen to whatever you’d found that day.

He gave no indication of whether he enjoyed it or not.

“I can see why you like it,” is all he would say, passing the headphones back to you.

“Oh?” you said once, laying the headphones on the bed. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Ghost leaned forward onto his knees, elbows propped upon them.

“It means,” he began, “that I’m not surprised this is the type of music you listen to.”

You feigned hurt, having slowly regained your ability to utilise humour after your diagnosis, the days getting easier.

“Well, I bet I can guess what type of music you like to listen to.” You held a smile on your face, just bordering on smug.

Ghost gave you a look. “Oh yeah?” he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Go on, then.”

You pretended to think for a moment, already having thought this question through many times before. Ghost was elusive, that much was plain to see, yet you imagined him in ways that made him familiar - human - to you.

“I bet you like metal,” you said. “Heavy.”

Ghost gave a sound that may have been a laugh.

“Am I that easy to read?” he said, a smirk vague in his tone.

“No,” you replied, innocently. “I’m just not surprised that’s the type of music you listen to.”

Ghost gave a slow, sarcastic, demeaning clap, muffled by his gloves.

“All right, well done,” he said, the smirk in his voice growing.

The two of you played board games together, too.

Initially, he let you win, claiming that life in the military had left him “No time for leisure.”

Translation: “I haven’t played board games in an age.”

You picked up early on he was letting you win and insisted on having him play fairly.

There was something deeply enigmatic about watching a trained soldier try and mask his frustration when he lands on Mayfair for the third time in Monopoly.

Whenever you’d lose you’d challenge him to another game, thus continuing the cycle of celebration and condemnation, with you claiming he was “cheating” when he won.

“You told me to play fair,” Ghost would say, a smugness in his voice.

Not all times with Ghost were light-hearted, however.

Even if his presence reassured you, there was the overwhelming feeling that you were missing out on something.

You knew you had family, if they were still alive, but you didn’t know them.

Friends, too. You wondered how many you had.

If you had a crush, that meant you interacted with people on some scale, right?

And it was in times like these, times when you just wanted to go home, wherever that was, that Ghost was there for you.

More often than not you’d end up in tears, trying to stifle them.

Ghost said nothing as you wept, chiming in only when he deemed the onslaught over.

“Why don’t blind guys skydive?” he said once.

You sniffed, wiping your nose, and looked at him.

“What?” you said.

“I said, why don’t blind guys skydive?”

You looked down, as if the answer lay in your hands. You shrugged.

“Scares the shit outta their dogs.”

Silence for a second. And then, a laugh.

You gave a laugh, airy at first but firmer the longer it went on.

You put a hand over your mouth, as if to hide your growing smile from Ghost.

Wiping the streaks of tears from your cheeks, you looked at him.

“Thank you,” you said. “I feel a little better.”

“S’what I’m here for.”

About two weeks into your rescue, your physical training began.

Having fully recovered from malnutrition, Base wanted you to start learning how to walk again, both for your convenience and theirs.

Ghost attended each meeting you had to go to, watching from the sidelines as a nurse guided you between two wooden poles.

The sessions were tough. Very tough.

You felt useless, responsible for your own suffering.

“If I’d done more, if I’d fought harder-”

“Then you’d be dead,” Ghost would insist whenever you questioned your choices.

“Types like the ones who kidnapped you don’t enjoy people who can easily fight them off. Trust me, you did the right thing.”

After sessions, you were usually tired, opting to try and push for an extra hour or so to get back your ability to walk quicker.

The nurse would insist you rest immediately afterwards.

One evening, you wanted to push yourself.

“I need to do this,” you told Ghost, pulling your legs over the side of the bed. He stood by your bedside, waiting to catch you if you fell.

“I need to-” you slid off the bed, lost your balance, and fell into Ghost’s arms.

His chest was rock solid, and he held you by your arms, close to him, helping you back up.

“You need to rest,” he said, trying to guide you back to bed.

“No!” You yelled, immediately regretting it.

Still in Ghost’s arms, you looked away, shame overtaking you.

“I’m sorry, Ghost, but I- I really, really need to…”

You didn’t finish your sentence. Ghost remained silent for a minute, then nodded.

“Alright,” he said, pulling you away from the bed.

“I’ll help you.”

In your room, Ghost walked a few laps with you, his hold emigrating from your underarms to your elbows, and then to your hands.

You took uneven, shaking steps, but they were steps in the right direction.

You smiled back at Ghost as he stood behind you, helping you.

Another couple of weeks passed. Ghost would give you secret after-session sessions, helping you walk wherever you pleased (within the confines of the room).

You were still shaky, very weak in certain areas, but you were getting stronger, more reliable.

You got to know Ghost more whenever you were resting in your room.

“My favourite colour,” you began one day, “is…[f/c].”

Ghost gave a brief noise of acknowledgement.

“What’s yours?” you asked, continuing to colour.

Ghost spoke plainly. “A secret,” he said.

You blinked, wondering if you’d misheard him.

“Huh?” you said, looking up at him.

There was no humour in his eyes. He was dead serious.

“Aww, come on!” you said, oddly hurt by his lack of willing. “You don’t trust me?”

Ghost’s eyes said everything and nothing at the same time.

“Depends,” he said, diplomatically. “D’you trust me?”

“Yes,” you said, without hesitation and with all the certainty of someone who felt nothing but trust and blind faith.

Ghost’s eyes widened for a second, as if he wasn’t expecting your answer, or maybe the light was playing tricks with your eyes. 

Sensing he wasn’t going to say anything, you tried to cover for his absence.

“I mean, it’d be hard not to.” You looked down at your colouring book. You became warm, as if confessing something personal.

“You saved my life, you protect me, you’re always there when I need you,”

“Because it’s my job.” Ghost’s declaration came out as if it were an attack, a deterrent for you to not pursue this line of thinking any further.

You swallowed and continued on.

“Yeah, you could say that,” you said. “But you took this job.”

“I was assigned-”

“No, no, not this one,” you said gesturing to the room, looking squarely at him. “I mean as a soldier.”

Ghost said nothing, only watching you.

“Why would you take a job protecting people if you didn’t see yourself as trustworthy enough for them to rely on you?”

Your question was simple yet revealed a lot. Too much for Ghost’s liking.

Ghost gave no response, his gaze travelling elsewhere.

You dropped the conversation.

The room returned to silence.

“Green.” Ghost’s voice came out of nowhere, low, making you jump.

You looked at him. He said nothing else.

You swallowed, looked down at your box of pencils, and withdrew a green pencil. You passed it to Ghost, who took it reluctantly, and turned the colouring book so he could reach it.

You coloured the rest of the page together.

Then, the interrogations began.

What memories and names Base didn’t gather from your notes, they tried extracting from you in ‘interviews’.

They were simple enough at first: what did you see during your time with the cartel; what were the names of the people you encountered (ones which you hadn’t already alerted them to); how long were you in the cartel’s captivity, etc.

The interviewers were firm yet didn’t push too hard in areas which were still hazy to you.

You gave every detail you could remember and passed on every memory, no matter how small, about your time in captivity.

It brought back unwelcome feelings, the fear, the hunger, the shame…

You were offered psychological aid, which you found to be of some help, though there was an itch the psychiatrist couldn’t quite scratch.

One that you spoke to Ghost about.

“It’s like…it’s like they’re going by a script,” you said, walking with Ghost around your room, leaning against him as you navigated the circuit.

“Like they’re trying to help, they want to help, but…”

“But?” Ghost’s voice was heavy behind you, like a wall. You stopped shambling and Ghost came to a stand-still behind you.

“But…they don’t know how. They don’t know how to help me because they’ve never-”

“Been in your situation.” Ghost finished your sentence.

You turned to look at him, mouth agape as you heaved laboured breaths, your exercise having taken it out of you.

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine. Recognition.

“Yeah,” you said, exasperated. Finally, someone understood!

Ghost nodded. “I know how it feels.”

You both sat down, you on the bed and Ghost in his seat. You shifted, watching him. He searched for something to say.

“I know how your situation’s affected you,” he said. His gaze flitted from your eyes to anywhere else. “And I wish I could say it gets better. But…”

His eyes looked hard, dark. His gaze finally settled on you, penetrating your soul.

“Look, the only way you can start to rebuild your life is to talk to someone.”

“You mean…” You dared not let your gaze slip.

Ghost gave a fractional nod.

“I know these shrinks ain’t much good when it comes to our kind of trauma, but talkin’ to someone who’s been through what you have might make you feel like you’ve not lost the plot.”

You felt like a breakthrough had been made. Something, maybe excitement, crawled up your throat.

“Our?” you said, quiet, as if sharing a secret. A small smile tweaked at the corners of your lips.

Ghost gave no confirmation. But the silence was enough.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, alongside recovering more menial memories of your past, the interrogations became harsher.

You told and retold the interrogators everything you knew, any new developments which had occurred to you, forced to relive everything which had reduced you to your current condition.

But they weren’t satisfied.

They thought you had something to hide. That you were covering for the cartel by withholding names and knowledge.

The second you were back in your room, you broke down.

You ranted and raved to Ghost, who listened intently, his attention solely on you.

In one hand you squeezed your fist, looking for your stress ball; the one that, ironically, was given to you by the same people who had caused you to need it now.

You couldn’t find it. You turned to Ghost.

Hyperventilating, in your panicked, angered state, you reached out to him.

“Can I squeeze your hand?” you said, words spewing out faster than you could think about them.

Ghost seemed rigid.

You swallowed thickly.

“Please.”

Ghost took a step towards you and, slowly, he raised his hand to you.

You took it, squeezing it, trying to stamp out the anxiety pulsing through you.

With your eyes closed and breathing evening out, you held Ghost’s hand close to you, your grip lessening with every minute that passed.

After your attack, as you got ready for bed, outside of your field of vision, standing just outside your room, you didn’t see Ghost.

Didn’t see him look down at the hand you’d so intimately held, squeezed, close to your chest.

He could feel your remnant, phantom warmth encompassing it.

He clenched his fist, as if trying to hold your hand, the memory of it which swam around his like fish in a pond.

A couple days later, you were set for another interrogation.

While you were holed up in that room, Ghost remained in yours.

He searched for your stress ball, the image of your tear-stained face in the forefront of his mind.

Somewhere within his psyche, as he scoured the space for that little yellow sphere of temporary distraction, your voice echoed.

It thanked him for finding it, held him in its grip, drove him.

The warm gratitude you’d express plagued him, encompassing him in a similar, diluted warmth he’d felt when you held his hand.

He glanced under your bed. And there it was.

He plucked it and turned it over in his hand.

The gratification of seeing your face light up when he presented it to you fizzed in his mind.

And then another, heavier thought crossed his mind.

The feeling of you close to him, holding, gripping him in your time of need…did something to him.

He’d be the last to admit that he hadn’t felt warmth like that in a long time. And to forfeit it just for a moment’s gratification seemed a waste.

Ghost glanced at the ball. He deposited it deep into his pocket.

He told himself he’d return it to you later.

Later. Later.

Later came as you hobbled down the corridor with the help of a frame.

You seemed stressed. In need of release.

Ghost slid his hand into his pocket. Squeezed the ball.

“Did you find it?” you asked, hopeful. Your optimism was difficult to ignore.

Ghost shook his head. “Negative,” he said, a habit he’d picked up. Slow and intentional. He knew what he was doing. “But I’m here if you need me.” 

And need him, you did.

You ended up confiding in him how the interrogation went, how the interviewers had made you feel like you had something to hide.

All the while, you clutched Ghost’s hand.

No amount of pressure you could muster could possibly hurt him, yet Ghost could tell you were holding back what little strength you had - both physical and mental.

“Don’t be shy,” Ghost said, voice cutting through your anxious ramblings. He looked down at your conjoined hands. “Squeeze harder.”

Something in the way you looked at him, with a look that said ‘I don’t want to hurt you’, crossed your eyes.

A look Ghost had nearly forgotten in his line of work.

You eventually fell into a comfortable rhythm wherein you would squeeze Ghost as hard as you could, leading to him faking injury at one point.

You chided him, you both laughed (or, Ghost nearly laughed), and you rested against your pillow.

“You know,” you said, turning to Ghost, “one day, I hope we won’t need a military.”

You were exhausted. Ghost could tell. He humoured your sleep-deprived ramblings regardless.

“So that people like you don’t have to fight for us.”

“Oh?” Ghost said. He’d be lying if he said his curiosity wasn’t piqued.

You nodded, movements growing sluggish, lethargic.

Your hand still held Ghost’s, resting it upon your stomach.

“You’re people, just like us.” You said, yawning. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Ghost felt an unfamiliar warmth spark in his chest. He ignored it.

“Not gonna happen, I can assure you that.”

“Which part?” you asked, eyes shutting.

Ghost leaned to mutter in your ear: “I’ll always be here to protect you.”

He didn’t know if you’d heard him.

When he withdrew, you were asleep. Still holding him.

He pulled his seat closer to your bedside, unable to bring himself to dislodge his hand from yours.

And that’s how he found you the morning after, awaking from his rigid sleep, still conjoined.

And thus, a habit was born.

After each interrogation, or psychiatrist visit or physical rehabilitation session, you would return to your room with Ghost and squeeze his hand until your anxiety dissipated.

All the while, your memories had begun returning at a quickened pace.

Ghost was learning more about you day by day.

Your favourite food, your home country, the names of your family members.

Your real name.

When he’d heard you say it for the first time, he swore the room got brighter.

It was beautiful and personal in ways that ‘Fawn’ could not compare.

It gave him a place to start searching for traces of you elsewhere.

Social media accounts, certificates, places of work and education - he knew he could find it all.

To make sure you were better off at home than you were at the Base is how he’d justified this interest to himself.

He still called you Fawn when you were alone, the name an inside joke between the two of you.

Speaking of, Ghost exchanged many jokes with you.

Regardless of how illogical or downright plain they were, you laughed each time.

Genuinely laughed.

Ghost wondered if you’d have reacted the same had you not been in the situation you were in right now; practically tethered to him and needing him for everything.

Well, almost everything.

After a few months of physical rehabilitation, you could just about walk again.

Your balance was a little off and you still needed the frame, but it was a start!

Ghost was there with you to celebrate, which, despite their best efforts to make you feel like a caged bird, the Base celebrated, too.

You’d been incredibly useful to them, having turned up many new leads for them to investigate.

As a reward, Base let you do something which caused Ghost to wonder if this was really the best decision.

They let you go to a bar with the boys.

To clarify, they said you could leave your room, the news of which travelled around the Base until it reached the ears of Ghost’s team.

“When were you gonna tell us?” Soap said, Alejandro nearby.

Ghost’s face was blank.

“Didn’t deem it necessary,” he said. And left it at that.

Naturally, Ghost’s team came to visit you and asked if you wanted to go to a bar with them.

“All that alcohol might help you remember something,” said Gaz, looking between you and Ghost.

You looked to Ghost, who, under the silent scrutiny of the other Force members, knew he couldn’t deny you of this freedom.

“Sure,” he said on your behalf. His eyes found yours and, while yours were filled with hope, Ghost’s seemed to exhibit a darkness never before seen by you.

You squeezed his hand that night you were set to leave.

“What if they don’t like me?” you said. “What if I was a terrible person and I remember all the bad things I’ve don-”

“Doesn’t matter.” Ghost’s voice came as a welcome distraction. You looked at him, swallowing your nerves.

“So what if they don’t like you? S’not like you’ll ever see them again.”

Ghost realised what he’d said wasn’t what you wanted to hear when your eyes widened, at which point he cleared his throat and tried again.

“What I mean is that they’ll like you regardless. Hell, they’re excited to just meet you after you’ve been holed up in confinement for the last few months.”

“You think so?” you said. Ghost nodded. And squeezed your hand back.

“I promise.”

The bar was nothing spectacular, being dimly lit and made solely out of wood, it seemed. But it was a change.

Creaking into the room, Alejandro spotted you first, throwing a cheer your way, followed by the rest of the Task Force, turning to face you.

Ghost was your shadow, large and wall-like behind you.

You held onto his wrist, daring not to let go, your other hand on the frame.

“Welcome, (Y/N),” said Gaz, lifting his drink in your general direction before taking a  swig.

You gave him a slight wave, a shy smile crossing your features.

“Come, take a seat with us!” Alejandro hollered, waving you over.

You cast Ghost a glance over your shoulder. He nodded stiffly and you made your way to the group.

Ghost came to your side, with you gripping onto his arm.

His hulking mass beside you relieved you somewhat.

And, though he wouldn’t admit it, having you cling to him brought back the same feeling he experienced whenever you squeezed his hand.

Was this perhaps…liking?

The cheers of the team cut his thoughts short.

He knew you’d be safe with his team if he just left. And, with your warmth radiating through him, he felt that he needed to take a step outside to rid himself of this growing affliction.

He made a move to detach himself from you, and, quick as lightning, your hand was atop his.

“Don’t leave,” you whispered to him, eyes pleading as you snapped to look at him.

His heart jumped. Something in him stirred.

“Alright,” he said. “I won’t.”

“Hey,” came Alejandro’s jovial tone. “I can see why Ghost’s been hiding you away and keeping you to himself all this time.”

You felt your face heat up at the implication, then feigned oblivion. Just in case you were misreading the situation.

“Oh?” you said, tone inquisitive.

Alejandro nodded. “You’re very attractive.” He gave you an eye smile.

Your face felt as if it were on fire.

“Ah, look what you’ve done,” came Soap, emerging from the group. “You’ve gone and embarrassed (Y/N)!”

All the while, Ghost was beside you.

He seemed…rigid.

“That’ll do.” Ghost’s stern voice came, cutting through the chatter of the bar.

You nuzzled further into his side, as if trying to cover yourself.

You and Ghost settled into a quiet section of the bar after that, Soap, Alejandro and Gaz coming to pay you a visit whenever they brought you a drink, chatting for a minute or two before feeling ghost’s icy stare on their backs.

That night, laying in bed, you cast Ghost a tired smile.

“M’sorry I’ve been so clingy recently,” you said, Ghost tucking you in beneath the covers.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, trying not to make eye contact with you.

Leaning back into your pillows, you reached for Ghost.

“Nervous?” he said, placing his gloved hand in yours.

“No,” you said. “Just want you nearby.”

Ghost’s heart spiked. He ignored it.

You fell asleep with his hand on your chest, hands holding his.

Ghost couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep without taking you in.

Even in the darkness, your features struck him as ethereal, your temperament and trust enrapturing him in ways he’d never been before.

He sat beside you, your loyal guard, watching over you through the night.

At some point, perhaps lulled to sleep by your rhythmic breathing, he joined you in a world far from this one, in a house you’d never seen before yet had lived in for years. You were happy, with Ghost behind you, unmasked, holding you.

Whether you shared this dream or not was irrelevant to Ghost. The only thing that mattered was that this, for now, felt real.

And yet, dreams can only satisfy the human lust for that which they do not have for so long.

The next day, more confident in your physical ability, you asked Ghost something which held an implication you weren’t yet aware of.

“Play Twister with me,” you said. You had a small smile on your face, one which Ghost was finding more and more difficult to deny.

After much pleading and begging, he eventually relented, more fond of the idea than he’d let on.

However, there was a stoic hesitance about him.

“I might hurt you.” His voice was sincere, yet his tone felt blank, as if he were protecting himself from the thought of injuring you.

You just smiled. “Never,” you said. “I trust you.”

Ghost scarcely contained the warmth seeping through his chest, threatening to make him smile.

He suppressed it.

“Fine,” he said.

Half an hour later, you were tangled together, neither relenting as your competitive nature got the better of you.

You span the dial, then called to Ghost: “Right foot, yellow!”

You tried. You really, really tried. But being pinned under the weight of a 6’2 ½ man and only just getting your strength back didn’t exactly give you an advantage. And stretching yourself too far, spreading your strength too thin, caused you to crumble.

You yelped, falling onto your front, winding yourself.

Ghost remained stationery on top of you.

You turned over onto your back and looked up at him, laughing.

“You can let go now,” you said. “You’ve won.”

“I know,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

You gave a breathless laugh, hands either side of your head.

Ghost lowered himself onto his knees, your legs caged between them.

He didn’t notice until he felt your thighs touch the inside of his legs, at which point he became aware of the position you were in.

His hands were on either side of your shoulders, trapping you beneath him.

You went quiet, the only noise being your laboured breathing as you regained your breath.

You were so close, you noticed, able to see Ghost’s dark eyes searching yours.

Neither of you spoke.

Slowly, cautiously, Ghost leaned down, drawing closer to your face.

You watched, frozen by your own indecision.

Sure, you liked Ghost, but did you like like him?

Your body decided the latter as you tried to meet him in the middle. Instinctual.

The material of his mask just grazed the tip of your nose when a hurried knock came at your door.

Your heart jumped and you gasped, both you and Ghost turning to look at the door.

You regained your breath, chest heaving. “We should…um…” you struggled to find the words to say, sliding out from beneath Ghost.

“Yeah,” he said, getting up. He offered a hand to you, which you took, and hoisted you up.

You landed on his chest, his hand still gripping yours.

You couldn’t bring yourself to let go, and neither could Ghost, by the looks of things.

But alas, the doctor was persistent, calling your name through the door.

You parted without another word, leaning onto your nearby frame. Ghost assumed his usual tall posture, shaking the situation off his shoulders as if it were snow.

A couple weeks later, the foundations upon which you and Ghost had built your friendship came tumbling down.

Base had announced that they were sending you home, having gotten in contact with your family.

More of your memory had resurfaced, as had your strength; enough to reduce the risk of you getting injured somehow during transit.

Upon hearing this, you and Ghost had very different reactions.

Your heart swelled and you cheered, the thought of reuniting with your family again making your body light up.

Ghost remained quiet, no different from usual. But something about his quietude felt…off.

Cold.

Base would discharge you within the next day or so.

You related your plans of what you would do when you returned home.

“I’m going to go to the beach, I’m gonna read more, I-”

Ghost tuned you out, watching you with a vacant stare.

He knew he should have respected that you were bound to leave eventually, as all good things do. But…something about you made this separation more difficult than it needed to be.

Perhaps it was his ego, so inflated with your reliance on him that he could scarcely see himself having any value outside of it.

That was his first and final line of defence against what the real issue was.

As he watched you get excitable to get away from here, from him (he told himself), his resolve began to crack.

It had been chipped and scathed by other occurrences, sure. But this pressure, this final obstacle, threatened to destroy it entirely.

“What do you think, Ghost?” your voice tuned in as if it were re-emerging from water.

“About what?” he said. He saw little purpose in feigning interest now.

“About me being able to go home.” You wore a smile, a genuine smile. Ghost had seen enough to be able to identify it.

“Good,” he said. “Finally be out of my hair.” There was a venom in his tone that made you double-take.

You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on what the future held for you, but something in Ghost’s demeanour had changed. You sighed, dropped your previous train of thought.

“Ghost…” you said as you slid off the edge of your bed. Your balance had improved, making the trip to Ghost easier than it used to be. He reached out to grab you on instinct.

Standing before him now, you gazed into his eyes, trying to find the root of the issue.

“I wish we got more time together. Under different circumstances, of course.”

Of course, Ghost wanted to say, but he remained mute.

You placed gentle, cautious hands upon his chest, smoothing them over the fabric.

“You’ve been so good to me, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

Your hands inched their way up to hold the sides of his mask. He made no move to remove you. His eyes bore into yours, soft in a way you’d never seen them before.

He placed his hands upon your waist, pulling you closer to him, slowly, methodically.

Your mind flashed back to your game of Twister. How close you’d been then and how close you were now.

Without thinking, urged by some sorrowful desire, you pulled Ghost into a tight hug, burying your face into his shoulder.

You sniffed, feeling tears sting your eyes and throat.

Ghost’s arms gingerly encompassed your frame, sliding around your waist, securing you.

The aversion he had to physical touch seemed to dissipate from him as you felt his weight pile on top of you, no longer holding back.

Neither of you spoke.

In your mind flashed a future without Ghost, a very real possibility. In Ghost’s, a future of only you and him. A silent promise he made to the both of you.

It took some time but the two of you eventually separated, with you wiping your nose on your sleeve.

Ghost watched you, hesitant to leave. Hesitant for you to leave.

You went to sleep that night as you never had before; Ghost laying in bed beneath you as you rested on his chest.

In his pocket, Ghost squeezed the stress ball, having found more use for it than you had.

In his haze, overwhelmed by the scent and presence of you, came an idea.

Later that morning, as you prepared to leave the Base, Ghost returned your stress ball to you.

“You found it!” you exclaimed, taking the ball and holding it close to your chest. You beamed up at Ghost, though there was an evident sorrow within you. “Thank you.”

Ghost offered his hand to you as he had many times before. And, for what you believed to be the final time, you took it, squeezing it.

You didn’t want to let go.

And neither did Ghost.

You were escorted onto the aircraft, Base fearing that you may be a target for any remaining cartel members while in the country, thus issuing you with a more discreet method of air travel home; a small helicopter.

You watched as Ghost grew further and further away, waving to you as you did to him, until he was gone.

In your hand you clutched your stress ball. Looking down at it, you turned it over in your hand.

There was something on it.

Looking closely, you saw the unmistakable outline of a phone number written in black ink, along with the word ‘Ghost’ below it.

You smiled, the crushing dejection you’d experienced for many hours before evaporating, replaced with a feeling you had grown all too familiar with.

Hope.

Meanwhile, Ghost got straight to work on tracking your location.

He wanted to know where that aircraft was going, when it would land, and approximately how long it would take for you to get home (and call him).

You may not have been able to see him anymore, but Ghost was watching over you.

This would be far from the last time you’d see him, he’d make absolutely sure of that.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

A/N: Due to tumblr's 4,096 character limit per text box (paragraph), I've had to separate the whole post out like this to be able topost it. I've tried putting the breaks where there would be a time skip so that reader immersion doesn't suffer too much.

Thank you for your patience :-)

Taglist: @yagipeach @deddoea @ghostsbrooklnbabe

#yandere simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost riley #Simon riley #yandere simon riley x reader #Simon ghost riley x reader #yandere simon ghost riley #Simon riley x reader #yandere mw2 #mw2 #mw2 x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #yandere simon riley #yandere mw2 x reader #mw2 headcanons #ghost x reader #yandere ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #cod ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader

[mooonjin]

A Little Needy

Notes: ayyy first miguel drabble out now! yes hes very hot and very very veyr very very aattractive and has very big titties in the header. im accepting reuwests for him now by the way if u wanna pop into my inbox!11!!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Miguel happily consented to you taking his virginity but he didn't realise how experienced you actually were. It's safe to say the 'M' in 'Miguel' stands for messy...

Warnings/Tags: 18+ work!! minors shoo flyyyyyyy - piv (wear protection cus they didnt), losing v-card mentions, no y/n mentions, implied f!reader but i dont use pronouns (i think), sub!Miguel, fantasy talk, cowgirl position, lowkey a short drabble sorry <3 ⁠— tell me if I've missed anything!

"Tell me, have you ever fantasised about me?" You asked Miguel.

His breath became ragged and laboured, each inhale was a desperate attempt to try answer you. The rhythmic pounding of your hips as you came up and down drowned out any last thoughts.

You simply watched him, his chest tightened and his gasps of air grew more intense at the sensation of your tight cunt. He was struggling to keep up with your pace despite laying there for you.

"Answer me." You mentioned once more. However, you smirked, enjoying this affect you had on him. A sheen of sweat formed on his forehead and he inhaled, finally being able to answer.

"Um y-yes.. I have." He finally whimpers out, sounding a little embarrassed. This was his first time, of course he was. He'd never ever think in his life he was here, probably about to share what he imagined with you.

You smirk, "What have you thought about?" The pace of yours hips continue to catch him off guard, he nearly forgot you were even talking to him.

He moaned out, "I've thought... I've thought about us d-doing, hngh, a lot of.. things-" He scrunched his eyes shut at the feeling of your warm cunt.

You couldn't help but smirk again. You knew an exact answer wasn't going to escape him, after all, you seemed to have completely invaded his mind, "Like?"

Miguel gulps, grunting every time your hips met his pelvis, "L-Like.. the stuff you'd expect, ungh, people to-to fantasise about." He slid his hands to your thighs, savouring your soft skin.

Ah, he was going to play this game. To tease him, you slowed your movements, watching as his neck craned up to wonder why you stopped.

"I want to hear it from you." Your cunt was gently clenching around his cock, making him gulp every more and then. You gently rocked back and forth, letting out soft exhales from the feeling of being filled.

"Oh- okay," Miguel looks up at you, his eyes wandering over your figure and mainly the bra you had on, "I uh, imagine you.. on top of me." He groaned, your warm cunt keeping his cock snug.

"Mhm?"

"And you making noises... your heavenly sounds of you enjoying yourself." He bites his lips, already imagining it himself. He sits up, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and tries to pump his cock in and it of you again.

"Yeah?" You taunt, pushing his hips down, keeping him still.

He seemed more nervous now with his words, "Can you please move, I can't take it..."

"Not until you tell me your fantasies." You smirk.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, his cock pulsating inside you desperately. You slowly started to bring yourself up the length of his cock to tease him and let out a choked whimper in response.

You pitied him as you slammed your hips back down onto his, causing his eyes to shoot open and strained moan to escape his throat. He felt like his lungs were suddenly punctured.

He groaned with a mix of pain and pleasure. 

With your beautiful figure straddling him, Miguel swallows lightly, his face turning red. He was too needy, his hands making their way to your hips to hold you in place. His hands gently fondled your plush. Miguel wants to thrust his cock in and out of you but you wouldn't let him.

He didn't imagine being the submissive one when he planned on losing his v-card.

But he'd be submissive for you.

Only for you.

-

Post-Notes: what a suprise that the first miguel thingy i put iut is smut!!!!! also my requests are opne now as well as an updated taglist form! :D

~ ~ ~

my taglist form!

#marvel #miguel o hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara smut #atsv miguel #astv #2099 #sub!miguel o’hara #happy reading!!! #SUB MIGUEL #mooonjin #drabble

[mrsbrookemunson]

Hi, love you’re writing! I was wondering if you were open to a Sebastian request… there’s a HC that the reason his hair is always so chaotic is due to Solomon taking sheep shears to his head, and I was wondering if you could use that to do a small fluff, possibly revealing a crush, between Sebastian and MC, in which he’s received another Solomon haircut and is feeling really self conscious about it, so MC assures him it’s not so bad/he’s still handsome

I'm not even kidding, I saw this request and immediately had to do it because I love it so much - I recently went to Universal (Islands of Adventure) and saw the Hogwarts castle and Hogsmeade... I may have cried a little. Summary: The request Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x MC (No pronouns used) Warnings: Uncle Solomon (there, I said it), angst, fluff, food mentioned, use of 'MC', honestly just real fluffy fluff which I feel like we don't have a lot of. Wrote this in one sitting so most definitely typos. If you're on a computer, the pictures might be formatted weirdly. Contains (Or Lacks): No specific house mentioned. The main plot of the game still happened, but Sebastian's side quest did not. Which means Solomon's alive, but Anne is not cured. Set in summer.

(Pictures Found on Pinterest)

The summer sun was always a lovely feeling after the long and cold winters that occurred in the Scottish Highlands. You could admit the snow was pretty, but the way the warmth engulfed you as your journey took you through fields of flowers, across crystal clear water streams, all whist surrounds by tall mountains that were accented with green. Green was everywhere - green grass, green trees, green bushes, and everything so forth. Each breath you took filled you with peace.

Then there you were.

Feldcroft.

It was only a month and a half ago since you last saw your best friend, Sebastian. The end of your 6th year left you torn. Why? Because ever since you and him met in 5th year, you couldn't deny the spark that ignited when your eyes first met his. It was almost as if Merlin himself wrote in the stars that the two of you would find each other one day. And thank Merlin you did. He was there for you during your fight in the Goblin War, he was there for you in the search to find all the answers that led to more questions, and he was there for you when you lost Professor Fig. But, there were lows that came with it.

You couldn't help him. Over the last two school years, you've tried and failed to have found a cure for his twin sister Anne. You both now knew Rookwood was behind the cruelty and not a goblin, but what good did it do when you were too blinded by the fight to have forgotten to force the answers Sebastian so desperately needed out of him? At least, that's what you tell yourself. Sebastian had to have told you a million times not to blame yourself, but you couldn't follow through. The only way to fix things was to find a cure for Anne.

You clutched the handle of your trunk as your eyes caught the all too familiar well of Feldcroft.

"Off on another adventure?"

You turned your head with a raised eyebrow toward Ignatia Wildsmith. With a chuckle, you continued forward.

"Ah! MC, good to see you again!" Bernard Ndiaye, the Feldcroft shopkeeper, called out.

You smiled and walked up to him. "Hello, Bernard. Doing well?"

"As good as one can be," he answered. "What brings you to town?"

"Oh, I'm just visiting a friend," you replied, vaguely. "Sebastian," you added.

"Ah... young Sallow. I've seen quite a bit of him recently."

"Hm?" You gave him a questionable look.

"He's been helping the folks around here with some labor. He's been a great help to me, keeping my shop tidy and stocked!"

"Sounds like Sebastian," you laugh.

He echoed your laughter. "I shouldn't have been surprised of your arrival, he's been talking about you."

"Has he?" You perked.

"Oh yes... all good things, of course." He grinned, smugly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in suspicion. "I'll take your work for it..." you dragged in amusement. "Well, I should probably be going, they are expecting me."

"Yes! Yes! Don't let me keep them waiting." He waved you off as he takes a sip of his tea.

You smiled and waved goodbye. You walked away toward the Sallows' house which you deemed as the most whimsical looking one out of Feldcroft, but maybe you were biased. You sighed as you took in the house. It was small, but beautiful. You took note of the new elements that have appeared since the last time you were here. A few new plants, a few new fruits and vegetables in their garden, even a new painted wood sign that claimed their residency. Everything looked perfectly tended to.

You raise your fist to knock, but before your knuckles could touch the door you heard what sounded like a grunt coming from behind the house. You froze in attempt to make it easier to hear. Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard yet another one. You took a step back from the door and set down your luggage. Your curiosity led your feet around the house, eyes bouncing around to spot the source of the sound.

You stopped over by the training dummies when you heard another sound, louder than had been before. You turned your head rather abruptly knowing you had finally found your conclusion but that backfired when you felt your knees nearly give out on you.

Oh.

Your face flushed when your attention was suddenly drawn to none other than your best friend. Your best friend that you fancied like mad, right here in front of you, skin glistening from sweat, breathing heavily with the occasional grunt as he moved large trunks of wood. Your eyes widened the more you continued to gawk at him, you didn't even notice that your jaw had dropped a little at the sight of him.

He stood up straight and lifted his hat a little to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He let out a long sigh of exhaustion and let his head hang low for a moment before shaking it off and turning his body to where you stood. You swore you saw his soul leave his body when he was smacked in the face by your presence.

He jumped and grasped his chest with a gasp. "Merlin MC, don't do that to me! How long were you standing there?" he scolded.

Your brain didn't process his scolding. You smiled and walked with vigor up to him. Without a word you threw your arms around your neck and pulled him into an embrace. He stiffened for a second before hugging you back

"I missed you," you said.

He wouldn't have admit it in that moment, but hearing your voice after haven't heard it in a while made his stomach flutter. A smile made its way onto his face. "I missed you too."

You pulled away, but not too far as you scanned his face for any changes. He did the same.

"You've grown," you pointed out.

"Have I?" He smirked.

"At least an inch." You narrowed her eyes. "And you got a new freckle... right... there." You poked his cheek.

He jokingly slapped your hand away. "I see you haven't change one bit," he teased.

You rolled your eyes. You raised a hand to block your eyes from the sun. "Merlin Sebastian, how are you wearing a hat right now in this weather?"

You didn't mention it, but you saw the way his cheeks turned a light shade of red.

"Where's your luggage?" he asked.

"At the front." You jutted your head in the direction.

"C'mon, let's get you settled then." He placed a hand at the small of your back and guided you to the front of the house. He grabbed your luggage and brought it inside, holding the door open for you.

The first thing you saw was Anne. She was standing there with a weak smile on her face. She had gotten a lot thinner since last summer when you saw her, and the dark circles under her eyes were more noticeable. It was a jab to your heart seeing her this way, knowing you couldn't control it.

"MC!" she exclaimed, happily.

"Anne!" You opened your arms and hugged the girl.

"How've you been?" she asked, moving so she could look at you as she spoke.

"I've been good - busy - but good." You hesitated at first, but asked, "And you? How have you been feeling?"

"Some days are worse than others, but today has been good. Probably because I knew you'd be here today." You laughed together. "Uncle has gone out to go get supplies for supper tonight, he should be back soon."

Sebastian behind you muttered something incoherently.

Anne looked at him. "Something on your mind?"

He glanced up from the palm of his hand which he had been absentmindedly tracing. He formed his lips into a tight line. "Nope. Nothing at all... I'll be outside if you girls need anything." He was quick to leave.

You grew a little confused at his rushed exit. "Is there anything I should be aware of?"

Anne scoffed a little. "Oh, it's - it's nothing, it's silly." She brought you to sit at the dining table with her. "He's just a little snippy because Solomon gave him a haircut," she explained.

You didn't know whether to laugh or not. "What?"

Anne shook her head a little. "Ever since we were young, after our parents died, every summer Uncle Solomon will give Sebastian a haircut if he thinks it's gotten too long to do labor with."

You grimaced at the thought of that man giving you a haircut and began to felt sympathy for Sebastian the more you thought about it. "Oh..."

"Solomon recently thought it had gotten too long... I have never seen Sebastian fight it more than he did this time. Honestly, I think it had something to do with you coming so soon."

You frowned. "I'd never make fun of him if that's what he thought."

"He knows that, it's just..."

You tilted your head. "It's just... what?"

She leaned in a little. "It's just that he wants to look his best when he's around you."

"Why should that matter?"

She looked a little taken aback. "My Merlin, do you really not know?"

"Know what?"

"You don't!" she exasperated.

"Don't know what?" You were starting to get a little desperate.

Anne looked around as if to make sure no one was listening. "Be honest with me here... do you fancy my brother?"

You nearly choked out your saliva as you gasped in shock. "What?! No! Me?! No!" You avoided her eye contact as well as her wide grin.

"Oh my gods! You do!" She began to laugh as if it was hysterical. "I knew it!" She slapped the table. "And Sebastian told me you didn't think of him that way..." She shook her head. "I should've listened to Ominis." She began to ramble off about you, Sebastian, and Ominis.

"What are you talking about?"

"You can't tell him I told you, but sister to sister you have to know... that my brother - my twin - is totally in love with you."

You blinked a few times as you attempt to process this information. "What?"

"Now before you start asking - "

"Has he told you that?! Since when?! Why has he never told me?!" you blurted.

"He - "

Suddenly, the door swung open. Heavy footsteps treaded in, the wooden floors creaked underneath the new weight. You turned your head and was met with Solomon whose facial expression hadn't changed since the last time you saw him. A deep scowl.

"You're here early," he grumbled.

Your eyes glimpsed at the grandfather clock in their house. You weren't early, in fact you were actually a little late, but there was no way you would correct him. So, instead, you gave a sweet smile. "I had anticipated some interruption during my travels, but lucky for me none came."

He gave a stiff nod and shuffled his way to the kitchen. "Hope you like Shepard's pie."

Even if you didn't, you would never admit it. "Love it!" You eyed Anne who was holding back a giggle.

"Where's that boy?" he asked, unpacking the produce and meat.

"He's outside, working in the back," Anne answered.

He glared. It wasn't directed toward Anne, but it still managed to make you two cower a little. "No manners that boy has! Invites a guest over and then - " The rest of it was mumbled as he stormed out of the house.

You and Anne could hear muffled shouting.

You turned to Anne. "Anne, about Sebastian - " You were interrupted this time by the door. However, Solomon was now accompanied by Sebastian.

So, that's why he's wearing a hat. You thought to yourself.

Solomon shoved his toward the table where you and Anne sat at. He huffed and sat down beside you.

Anne glanced between the two of you with a sly smile. "So, MC... you said you've been busy, doing what exactly?"

"I've been helping Mr. Weekes at Spintwitches Sporting Needs, he has some new ideas for broom upgrades that I've been assisting him with."

"Sebastian told me you were a good flyer, better than Imelda from what he's told me."

Sebastian had seemed to've perked up. "She's the best on the team."

You breathily scoffed. "That's pushing it a little."

"Nonsense, people think you're gonna get chosen for captain in this new year," he said.

"Don't let Imelda hear that, it'd be over her dead body would I get that position," you half-heartedly joke.

"Anything else you've been doing?" Anne inquired, resting her chin against her knuckles.

"I've been helping Mr. Hill with modeling clothes, helping Sirona at the Three Broom Sticks - cleaning and whatnot, helping J. Pippins with potion deliveries, of course running my own shop - "

"Have you been taking breaks?" Sebastian asked.

You frowned a little at his look of concern. "Of course I have been taking breaks, I''m taking one right now, being here." You could tell that didn't ease him. "It's a busy season, but I've been managing."

"But, you've been drinking enough water, right? Eating enough? Sleeping enough?"

Anne could relate this back to the 'he's in love with you' claim, but you could relate it back to the two of them. He's had to care for Anne for a while now and witnessed her downfall, it's to no surprise he'd be protective over your health and making sure you're okay.

"Yes, Sebastian," you assured.

Solomon was cutting carrots (why is that funny to imagine?), when he grumbled to himself about something. He set his knife down shook his head. "Boy! What did I say about wearing hats indoors?"

You eyed Sebastian's expression. It flickered with embarrassment.

"I am not taking off this hat," he argued.

Solomon crossed his arms and stared down Sebastian. "And why is that?"

Sebastian's lip trembled a little. "W-Well, because - " He sighed in defeat, he didn't want to argue in front of you. That was an embarrassment in itself as he learned the more he thought about the day you first met Anne. "Yes, sir."

Solomon went back to cooking. You didn't know whether to watch or not as Sebastian slowly took off his hat. His eyes casted down in shame. Some of his hair was matted down from the sweat while the rest of it had it's own mind. You had never really seen his natural hair, always tamed with gel. This was the first time you had seen the chaos that was Sebastian's hair, and oh how Solomon did not understand it.

Sebastian ran a hand through it, but it only seemed to have stirred it more. The shorter layers sticking out a little, some parts wavy, some parts straight. The longer layers uneven. You deep down hoped that one day it'd be you who'd give his hair the treatment it deserved, because you knew how much Sebastian cared about it.

"I'm just going to step away for a moment - " Sebastian started.

"No, I need your hand in the kitchen," Solomon countered.

Sebastian shut his eyes. His nostrils flared ever-so-slightly as he breathed in sharply. He stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Due to the arguing, Solomon did haste the cutting process," Anne explained in a hushed tone

"What does he use for it?" You scooted closer toward her so Sebastian nor Solomon heard.

"Sheep shears." Anne cringed at the thought. "I've been fortunate enough to have never experienced it, Sebastian on the other hand..." she paused. "In our second year, Solomon cut it right before the start of first term, and let's just say... it ended him up with an awful nickname."

"Oh, poor Sebastian..." You sympathized.

"After that he learned how to style his hair and built a new reputation for himself, but I know it haunts him every time this season comes around. I think he's just scared you'll somehow lose interest in him all together if you see him - well... this way..."

You frown and looked at Sebastian whose energy drained in the last hour.

"I don't think that's possible," you whisper, unknowingly.

Anne grabbed your hand that laid on the table. "Maybe it's time to tell him that."

You bit your lip. Your nerves grew the more you thought about such a conversation between you and Sebastian. Where you'd reveal the feelings you've contained since the day you met him. Yes, when you met him, you thought he was attractive, but then you got to know him and suddenly he was beautiful. Inside and out, and that's what scared you.

Were you enough for someone beautiful?

You know Anne said he liked you back, but what if it was all a big misunderstanding? It wouldn't have been the first time.

Could you afford to get your heartbroken by Sebastian?

You think not. Which is why when you got your plate of food, you managed to build up no appetite. You pushed around the potato meat and vegetables until it was nothing but a pile of mush. You could feel the heat of Sebastian's gaze burn into you, but you did you best to avoid it. Eventually, Anne allowed the awkward silence to take over until everyone was done with dinner.

Sebastian stood up. "I'm gonna go get some air," he announced before leaving.

You watched him carefully as he left.

Anne picked at her fingernails. "I'm gonna go help Uncle with the rhubarb pie," she said, slowly, as if hinting toward something. "If you know... you wanna... talk." She eyed the door.

You picked it up her cues rather easily. "Yeah," you breathed. "Yeah, maybe that's for the best." You cleared your throat as the both of you stood.

Anne could read by your stance how nervous you were. She grasped your upper arm. and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Hey, believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about. I know my brother better than anyone and I know... you're everything to him."

You could've argued against that, but chose to bite your tongue and nod. She smiled and gave your upper arm one more squeeze. She walked past you to the kitchen. You sighed and glanced at the door. After what felt like a lifetime you took the first step toward exiting the house until you felt the cool breeze against your face. You ventured out a little and turned your head to your right. It was where you two met up the day you first came to Feldcroft all that time ago, before you met Anne, before him and Solomon got into that fight, and before you told Sebastian all about the keepers.

You walked up the steps and to him where he was leaning against the railing. His back was still turned to you which prompted you to rest against the railing next to him. The two of you wallow in the silence.

"I'm sorry," he said, breaking the silence.

"What for?"

"For being distance."

"It's okay - "

"It's not okay..." He groaned a little. "It's stupid." He shook his head.

"What is? I can tell you, whatever it is, it is not stupid if it's affecting you this much." You knew what it was, but for you to truly understand, you needed to hear his feelings on it.

He shakily sighed. "I know you've noticed, how could you not notice?" He tugged at a strand of his hair which stuck up and out of place. "I swear he treats me as though I'm still a child."

"Sebastian..."

"Don't even lie and tell me it doesn't look bad."

"Could you look at me, please?" He hesitates but does so. "Here..." You stand upright, guiding him to do the same. Cautiously, you began to run your fingers through his hair. You don't verbally mention the way he shuddered immediately when doing so, or when he sighs again, this time of content. You smile, and continue to use your fingers to carefully style his hair. "This is the first time you've ever let me do this."

"Is it really?" He sounded absent. You noticed he had close his eyes and was now leaning into your touch a little more than before. "I've been missing out..."

"Just give me the word and I'll do this at any time for you." You smiled even though he couldn't see it.

"Careful... I think I'd tell you to never stop at some point."

You chuckle but don't respond. You finish by brushing his bangs to the side. Your eyes flickered all around his face. You were so close, you could've counted every freckle, every eyelash, every scar and imperfection that was perfection simply because it was him. Without another thought, your fingers dragged to trace the side of his face down to his jawline. During that, his eyes slowly opened. Your hand didn't leave his face as his eyes bored into yours.

Have they always looked at you that way?

"Have I told you lately that no matter what... you're beautiful... to me?" you stammered.

His breath hitched in his throat. "No," he breathed. "But, then again, I've been doing a terrible job reminding you that as well."

"We ought to really work on that together then, hm?"

He lifted up a hand and pushed your hair back behind your ear. "Yeah..."

"Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

You could only describe the moment as the stars having finally aligned. He wasted no time placing his lips against yours. There was no barrier of friendship keeping him from doing the thing he's been wanting to do for so long. You both have well crossed that safe line and now there was so turning back. Sebastian pulled you closer as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to make up for all the time he let go by without making you his. And he really wanted you to be his as much as he wanted to be yours. He wanted to memorize the feeling of your lips against his, your body pressed to his body, the tickle of your hair of his face, the feeling of your fingers in his hair. All that he wanted to consume was you.

The two of you pulled away to catch your breath. You both laughed and leaned into each other as you processed the moment as it was really happening.

You sighed, happily. "You know, your uncle is going to be wondering where we went."

"I honestly could care less about that right now." He couldn't stop smiling. He goes to lean in again but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"As much as I'd love for you guys to continue your moment, I was ordered to tell you that the pie is ready," Anne said with an amused glint in her eye. "I'd also like to mention that I told you so, to both of you." She spun on her heel and began to slowly walk away.

You and Sebastian watched Anne walk away with wide eyes. Sebastian intertwined your fingers with his. "I guess we do have all of summer to spend time with each other."

"I'd like to think it wouldn't end just there," you tease as the you both start to walk back to the house.

"Don't you worry, you're gonna be stuck with me for life. Bad haircuts and all." He nudges you, playfully.

A perfect life.

Your eyes soften. "Lucky me," you whisper.

#sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #harry potter

[faetreides]

alsooo… food for thought! modern!coryo learning that you’re a virgin and what he’d be like when he gets to fuck you for the first time 😏😏

🍽️ SEND ME ASKS ABOUT CORYO, LUKE CASTELLAN, OR ANAKIN (THIS IS A THREAT)

CW: afab!reader, feminization/use of bride/reader's pussy is assigned she/her pronouns, extra extra political empire heir coriolanus snow in tears over pussy read all about it, fair amount of marriage talk, mentions of being willing to murder others & trap reader, mandatory sejanus mention, coryo puts on his person suit just for you <3, this is not the darkest point in the au but the au is "soft" dark content overall

One thing about modern!coryo is that he gives you much more grace than some of his other friends would have. (Festus is "rumored" to be carrying multiple stds and Felix's family has a whole section in their budget just for child support. Sejanus is the only one in that group that's kind of normal by comparison.) When you start dating, he can tell that you're inexperienced at least; but the green-eyed monster always on his shoulder doesn't let him fully believe that you're a virgin.

He's... patient unlike most college boys. He's horny beyond comprehension, but he doesn't latch onto you like a leech after the first date (He's so kind 😊). Sure, there's a festering need sweltering under his skin and boiling his blood, but he's no strange to playing the long game. To him, every time he fucks you is going to feel like your wedding night (Cause he's in this for MARRIAGE). You're the only one he would use the phrase "making love" with. Before you, every other whore that hung off his dick was just there because he was high on his status (and a couple other things). He apologizes about being with others before you as if he were actively cheating on you.

He'd pay to have them disappear if you wanted.

Anyway.

He finds out in a benign way; you're making out on your creaky twin bed in your dorm. (You hadn't moved in together at the time, so he had to settle for his long limbs awkwardly knocking against the wall and nightstand every time you were getting intimate.) He keeps the kiss going as he rises up on his knees and nudges you on your back. He shoots his hands out under your body to catch you just in case (and so you can't leave).

"Wait….” You say and bury your hands in his hair to try to pry his mouth off of your neck, “Coryo, stop. I need a second."

He almost pouts but he relents and moves back to hover over you. Some of his curls dangle down and tickle your face but you just scrunch your nose up like a bunny at the feeling.

His brow furrows in confusion, "What is it, baby? Are you okay?"

You squirm under his body for a moment in embarrassment until you decide to just rip the band aid off. You run your hands up his torso and over his shoulders, curling them around the nape of his neck and giving him the little head scratches he likes. His eyes flutter shut as electricity shoots up his body.

"I'm uh...... I've never done this before, ever." He barely hears it with how quietly you whisper.

He can't help teasing you in response, "Baby, you can just say that you're a virgin if that's what you are."

He chuckles when you "playfully" smack him in the chest. Coryo makes sure you can watch his gaze soften as he brings a hand up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You've given him a gift, and Coriolanus Snow is nothing if not an avid appreciator or gifts. He leans down to rub the side of your nose with his, bringing his other hand down to press on your lower belly.

"Petal... I don't care that you're a virgin, we don't have to do anything today. I won't mind, don't worry."

He can see your brain working hard to make a decision, the cogs in your cute little head turning. You don't bite you lip for very long (which is a good thing because his dick was about to explode) before you're canting up to kiss him.

You've gotten a lot better at it overtime, and Coryo has adored every second of helping you get to that place. He's never been in love before so it's almost like you're teaching him new things too. He wonders if this is how his father felt, only having room in your heart for one person and closing it to everything else. He almost can't blame him, now that he's got you.

It was all going so well until he's wrestling your lace down your smooth legs, he's pressing tiny little pecks along your skin as your underwear travels. He doesn't quite take them off and just leaves them pooled around your ankles. The material stretches as he slides his hands up your inner thighs and spreads them.

You give him your best 'do NOT fucking rip my underwear' look but he just sends back an answering 'you know I'll buy you new ones.'

The puffy pussy that winks up at him makes him want to cry. Aphrodite could come down to earth right now and bend over right in front of him, but all he'd see is his future wife's glistening folds. He'd never really found a cunt cute before, but yours was bringing forward yet another wave of cuteness aggression. You have no hope of getting through to him once he's got his thumb hooked under your hood. He honest to God coos as he gently scrapes his thumb nail against your clit.

The giddy laugh that bubbles up when you involuntarily kick at him makes your cheeks heat up in what is unfortunately not embarrassment.

"Shit." He sniffles and wipes away an actual tear as he tilts his head to the side to get a different angle, "She's beautiful..."

It's the same tone he'll have when he says his vows.

Coryo then decides that he's tired of waiting so he tugs your panties off your ankles and uncaringly throws them somewhere on the floor. He smiles and lays down in between your legs, leaving some space in between your bodies so he could see where you two will be joined.

His curls hang in your face again as he leans down to nip at your nose, so you won't really notice when he shoves his pants down.

You can't hide how much you want to see all of him, he watches you glance down at his hard cock that slapped against his stomach as it flopped free. Despite Coryo obviously not having the biggest build in the world, the third leg he's been apparently carrying around all this time is more than enough for him (and for you). It's an angry sort of purplish red, thick and long like his fingers with a mushroom head that might as well have been calling your name.

"My eyes are up here, you know." He chides you as he gets your attention back on him by shaking his hefty cock in his balled fist, getting drops of salty pre cum on your pussy before sandwiching it between your folds.

He blissfully sighs and tosses his head back as if he were a king celebrity a long-awaited victory with a toe-curling fuck.

Essentially, he's like "fresh pussy just for me 👉👈🥺?” He's sat right at the dining table and ready to dive into his favorite three-course meal (your holes).

#modern!coriolanus snow #this will be included in a first time fic so i'm cutting it off #sorry this so late but you keep my muse for him alive i love love love your modern coryo thoughts #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coryo x reader #coryo x you #afab reader #thg x reader #thg x you #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #tbosas x reader #tbosas x you #yandere #yandere x reader #soft yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere x reader smut #tw dark content #⚰️.deaddove #divider by roseschoices

[bad268]

Hi I love your work can you write about justin and a reporter ask a question about you( your relationship is unknown) and he’s loses his temper a lil but Is also trying not to disclose anything.

Private, But Not Secret (Justin Herbert X Reporter! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/NFL

Requested: Clearly (I love him so much)

Warnings: mentions of when Justin broke his leg in college

Pronouns: Third person (They/them)

W.C. 1031

Summary: A reporter takes a question too far, so Justin takes evasive action.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It all started when they met in college, the University of Oregon. Y/n, a sports journalism major, and Justin, a science major on the football team. A match made in heaven, one would say. Their classes did not overlap a lot, but Y/n was assigned to cover the football team. It was only natural for the two to spark something. 

They began hanging out outside of the games and practices during the summer of their junior year and became official at the end of the football season. The two decided to keep it between themselves because the last thing they needed was people making comments about the quarterback and a journalist being together.

Fast forward a few years, Justin is doing well with the LA Chargers and Y/n has established themself with CBS. Y/n was the lead journalist when it came to the LA Chargers, and they were always reporting on Sundays. Their relationship remained strong, and no one other than their respective families and closest friends knew of the two.

Even though they were on the down low, everyone could see that Justin had a soft spot for Y/n in conferences. No matter the outcome of the game, Justin would smile and give very detailed responses. Heck, he would even banter back and forth with them!

One game in particular, Y/n could not attend. Y/n was visiting family, so they asked one of their newer reporters to fill their space. The game was pretty good for the LA Chargers and Justin with him throwing three touchdowns and running one in himself. Despite being at their parents’ house, Y/n turned on the post-game conference just as Justin came on the stage. All of the journalists were congratulating Justin and asking game-related questions until it got to one reporter. 

“Perla with CBS,” she started, Y/n immediately recognized the voice as their coworker who filled in for them. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my colleague, Y/n, is not here today.”

“No, I noticed,” Justin chuckled. “They’re at every game and every press conference, so it’s nice to see them taking a break.”

“Many people, myself included, have noticed that you two seem to have a stronger bond than just reporter and player,” Perla scoffed. Immediately, Y/n could sense where the question was going, and so could Justin. “Is there anything happening behind the scenes between you two?”

“That has nothing to do with the game, and frankly, it’s none of your business,” Justin answered monotonously.

“I mean, it’s obvious to everyone that Y/n doesn’t have the proper experience to have this job, so it’s clear that they’re doing some ‘behind the scenes’ favors,” Perla continued, completely disregarding Justin’s first answer and obvious distaste for the question.

“First off, don’t ever talk down on someone like Y/n who is higher up than you,” Justin started off, glaring at Perla through the crowd. “Second, if we were in a relationship, how would I have any say in their job? I have no personal connection to CBS, and I just don’t have that power. Lastly, if you’re going to keep talking shit, you can leave, and we’ll make sure that CBS knows how you aren’t actually working within your role. I don’t think your boss would appreciate that his sports reporter is poking her nose around in topics that don’t deal with sports, right?”

“Are you threatening me?” Perla gasped, surrounding reporters were eating it up. Justin was known for being quiet and reserved, so seeing him lash back was a one in a million shot. 

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Justin replied. “Slander against Y/n will not be tolerated, especially when I know that they specifically chose you for this gig because they believed in you.”

After the conference, Justin called Y/n on his way home.

“Thank you for standing up for me, J,” Y/n greeted almost immediately after answering the phone. “People need to learn to stay in their own lane.”

“I’ll always defend you,” Justin laughed. “We do need to talk to your boss about that, though. That was unacceptable.”

“I really thought Perla was just misunderstood,” Y/n replied sadly. “Turns out she’s just out for drama.”

“If people are going to keep asking about it,” Justin started, “how would you feel about us announcing us? We could be private but not secret, and I’ll make sure to add that we’ve been together since junior year.”

“If I get to help choose the pictures and the caption, I think it would be best,” Y/n admitted. “Plus, you kind of already outed us during the conference when you said ‘we’ will make sure that CBS knows.”

“For fucks sake,” Justin chuckled in disbelief. “I tried so hard to keep it hidden.”

“Well, now we don’t need to,” Y/n comforted. “Remember, private but not secret from now on.”

The next game day came faster than either were prepared for. Both shared two pictures to their Instagrams with the caption, “Five years and counting.” One of them was taken during the off-season, and the other was of the two sitting on the couch with Justin’s broken leg and Y/n dressed up as a nurse from junior year. The posts gained a lot of traction, but it was now in the open. Neither wanted to change that.

After the game and another win for the LA Chargers, there was, of course, another conference. This time, Y/n was back in their place.

“Y/n with CBS,” they smiled as Justin looked their way. “First off, congratulations on announcing your relationship. You two look very happy together.”

“Thanks,” Justin laughed at the brief teasing. "We've been through a lot together. Couldn't see myself without them, honestly."

“That's cute, but I would rather talk about that last play though,” Y/n quickly got on topic. “A 69-yard throw to Keenan Allen for the game-winning touchdown. With this win, you helped secure your place at the top of your division and a place in the playoff. Tell me, does your arm hurt with these long throws?”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

#justin herbert x reader #justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert fanfic #la chargers #los angeles chargers #nfl #national football league #nfl football #nfl imagine #nfl fan fic #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

[wooahaes]

favors

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x gn!reader [reader has a uterus!!!]

genre: fluff. convenience store worker au. friends to lovers, kind of!

word count: ~0.7k

warnings: menstruation + mentions of reader bleeding through their pants. reader is not referred to with any pronouns or anything. mingyu being obvious w his affection and reader being over his shit.

daisy's notes: u can tell im rly going through it rn huh

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck--Of all the things that could happen today, a bloodstain on your pants was one of the worst.

Thankfully, you were prepared for one part of this. You had period supplies in your bag, and you'd taken care of that issue easily enough. Yet now you were standing in the bathroom, pissed at yourself for not wearing a shirt long enough to hide the stain, or a jacket that you could tie around your waist until you got home. You'd glanced at your phone, frustrated as you tried to figure out a plan. Mingyu would definitely be fine if you told him you needed to run home and change pants (thank fuck you didn't live super far from the convenience store you both worked in). If you walked just right the stain wouldn't be super obvious from the front, but the back of your pants...

Life sucked. Everything sucked.

All too soon, there was a knock at the door, startling you. Mingyu called out your name, and you shut your eyes, already cursing the world.

You cracked the door open, peering at Mingyu's face... only to realize one little thing first. He was wearing a hoodie. He wasn't supposed to, your boss had a weird thing about it despite keeping the store cold as fuck, but the two of you never blabbed.

"I need your jacket."

He stared at you. "What? No--It's cold in here."

"Mingyu," you lowered your voice. "I need your jacket. Just for, like, thirty minutes, max."

"Why do you--"

You glanced toward the storefront, relieved that it was empty, and turned back to him. "I bled and I need to run home and change pants--"

Already, he was unzipping his jacket to hand it over, mumbling something about why didn't you just say that? He had a sister, he understood accidents like this happened. He watched as you pulled the door open further, tying his jacket around your waist before stepping out. Mingyu leaned against the wall, looking you over for a moment.

He smiled, admiring you with this sappy look in his eyes--which you swore you'd seen him have when seeing a puppy once. "Not how I wanted to give you my jacket, but..."

You rolled your eyes. "Uh-huh." Not this shit again. How many times had Mingyu said things like this...? You weren't sure. You started to make your way to the doors, "I'll be fast. If I run, I should take long--"

"You don't have to rush," Mingyu said. "I can handle things. Just take care of yourself. I'll make up an excuse for you," he pulled the door open for you, lingering just behind you with that same stupid grin on his face. Sometimes you hated how handsome he was. "Just go and come back safely."

You furrowed your brow, staring at him. "... What are you doing?"

"Helping you," he smiled. "If you want to make it up to me... You could buy me dinner."

Is now really the time to play this game? "Stop teasing," you took a step outside, turning back to him. "I'll be back--"

"I'm not!" He called out, following you out. "I'm serious. I like you."

For a moment, your mind went blank. Really? Really? Now, of all times? "Oh my god, Mingyu--" You took a few steps back, "Okay--We'll--We'll talk about that one later. I'll be back in a bit!"

He beamed at you, watching you go with that same stupidly handsome smile on his face, happy as ever to see you. Once you had disappeared down the street, he stepped back inside, completely content in his flirting with you again. To be honest, he always had the idea that one day he'd walk you home after work, and he'd notice you shiver, and he'd offer up his jacket... But this worked, too.

(Just ignore the way his heart stopped when you came back, wearing his jacket, and saying something about how he needed to pick where he wanted dinner from... and that you'd be keeping the jacket until the end of your shift.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagine #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu imagine #mingyu x you

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

Unsmooth Operator

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Reader

Summary: It’s summer in Hawkins and Eddie finds himself caught up on the cute girl working at the record store in the mall

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, brief mentions of sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), swearing, potentially lethal levels of adorableness 

A/N: First of all, sorry it’s been so long since I posted my last fic. My poor little ADHD self is a slow writer, I’m afraid. But anyway, I kind of wrote this as a sort of prequel to my Henderson!Reader fic, but there’s no direct mention of Reader being related to anyone, so you can either read it as that or not. Also, special thanks to Mr. Joseph Quinn for confirming that Eddie Munson has no game. 

My Master List | Ao3

-

It’s June in Hawkins and the summer heat has already grown practically unbearable. The shitty window A/C unit Eddie’s been using has finally crapped out, and in the heat of the day the trailer is approximately the temperature of the sun. Mercifully, he’s found a sweet, air conditioned refuge in the newly built Starcourt mall, a temple to 20th century decadence and consumerism that also happens to be a very pleasant temperature inside. 

Jeff and Gareth are tagging along today, which is fun except for the quick pit stop they had to make at the homegoods store so Gareth could pick up some new linens for his mom. They’ve finished that now, though, and Eddie’s already got their next destination in mind. 

“I’m gonna do it”, Gareth insists as they go, “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“Your mom would kill you”, Jeff replies.”remember when she caught you smoking? I thought she wasn’t going to let us see you ever again after that.”

“It’s different now”, Gareth tells him, “I’m 16. I’m gonna be a junior. It’s time I make my own choices, you know?”

“Good luck with that”, Jeff laughs. 

“Let’s hit the record store next”, Eddie cuts in, “I want to pick up the new Bob Dylan album for Wayne.”

“More like you wanna see the cute girl working the register”, Jeff teases.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Eddie retorts, desperately hoping his cheeks aren’t actually turning as red as he thinks they are.

In truth, he does have an ulterior motive for wanting to go to the record store, and it is you. You’ve been going to Hawkins High for the past three years, but admittedly Eddie had never really been more than vaguely aware of your existence until this past semester, when you two had PE together. He had this routine he’d do where he would imitate the gym teacher when the man wasn’t looking, and it never failed to elicit a giggle from you. One day Eddie noticed how cute you looked when you laughed and well, he’s been a little bit stuck on you ever since. 

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Gareth comments, as if it’s just that easy.

Sweet, naive Gareth. Maybe for guys like Steve Harrington it’s that easy, but Eddie isn’t Steve Harrington. Gareth wasn’t there for Eddie’s early high school days. He wasn’t there during Eddie’s sophomore year when two hot juniors decided to prank him by convincing him their cheerleader friend was “super into him” or his junior year when he invited that girl from drama club to join Hellfire and she laughed out loud at him. Most girls don’t even want to be seen with Eddie “the Freak” Munson, let alone date him. 

“Jeff’s talking out of his ass”, Eddie lies, “come on, let’s go.”

You are, of course, there at the counter when they walk in, and oh God, is that an Iron Maiden shirt you’re wearing? Fuck, as if he couldn’t be more into you. 

“Um, Eddie, you good dude?” Gareth asks him and he realizes he’s stopped right there in the entrance of the store, just staring at you. He quickly turns away and walks the rest of the way into the store, thankful that you’re currently checking out a customer and probably didn’t notice him ogling you like a total weirdo. 

Admittedly, this may not have been a good idea, at least if he wants to convince Jeff and Gareth he’s not into you. He quickly grabs a Bob Dylan tape and starts making for the door, desperate to just get out of there and spare himself anymore humiliation.

“Um, you gonna pay for that?” Jeff asks and fuck. He’s shoplifted before but he’s not interested in getting barred from the record store, so he’s not gonna risk it today. 

“Right”, he mutters and then he forces himself to go up to the counter. 

He feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest when he walks up and you flash him that brilliant smile of yours.

“Hi, Eddie”, you greet and his eyes grow wide because you know his name. Well, obviously you did, you had a class together, but it just sounds so good coming from your mouth that he momentarily ceases to function. 

“Did you need help with something?” you ask after a moment.

“What?” Eddie asks, “oh no. Just um, just this.”

He sets the tape on the counter and you grab it to ring it up.

“Dylan”, you comment as you do, “not your usual fare.”

“It’s for my uncle”, Eddie explains, “he’s a big fan.”

“Cool”, you say, “I like your vest by the way. Dio. Nice.”

Well, that’s it. It’s over. Eddie’s done for. 

“That’ll be $6.30”, you say.

“Oh, right money”, Eddie sputters and fishes a ten out of his pocket. He knows Jeff and Gareth are standing nearby, watching this all play out and probably laughing with each other about it. He’s definitely never living this down.

“You want a bag”, you ask as you finish gathering his change. 

“Oh, I um, I guess”, he replies, not actually processing the question. You hand him his change, then place the tape in a bag and slide it over to him. He goes to grab it, and because he’s not at all paying attention to anything but you, inadvertently sends the display of Beach Boy tapes sitting on the counter tumbling to the floor.

“Oh shit”, he hisses, “oh fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay”, you reply, coming around the counter, “I keep telling Doug he shouldn’t put that stuff so close to the register.”

You bend down to start picking up the tapes and years worth of Wayne’s lectures on behaving like a gentleman come flooding back to Eddie, so he quickly follows suit.

“Let me help you”, he says.

“Thanks”, you say and you’re smiling again and Eddie kind of wants to die. 

With the two of you, it doesn’t take long to get everything cleaned up and back in order. 

“I’m really sorry”, Eddie says again as you make your way back behind the counter, and then before he can stop himself, he blurts, “maybe I could make it up to you somehow?”

“What?” you ask, clearly unsure of what he means.

“I mean like, maybe I could buy you a-a coffee or something sometime”, he stammers.

You peer at him for a moment, and he braces for the inevitable rejection he’s about to endure.

“I like ice cream”, you say, “if you meet me here at 3 tomorrow, you can buy me some ice cream and we’ll call it even.”

Maybe Eddie’s already dead and this is heaven. That or he’s being punked somehow. Either way, he stands there like an idiot for a second, trying to process that you just suggested the two of you meet for ice cream. 

“Um okay”, he says.

“Cool”, you grin, “see you then.”

“Right”, he says, “see you then.”

And then he’s swiping his bag from the counter and stiffly making his way back to Jeff and Gareth, his body still trapped in a state of shock.

“So”, Jeff prompts, “what was all that?”

“I um, I think I’m meeting her for ice cream tomorrow”, Eddie informs them. 

The two younger boys exchange glances, mouths stretching into a matching pair of shit eating grins. 

“Talking out of my ass, huh?” Jeff teases.

“Shut up”, Eddie snaps, “I’m just being polite okay? It’s not like a date or anything.”

“Sure it isn’t”, Gareth replies smugly. 

“Whatever”, Eddie huffs and the others know not to continue the conversation, even if they spend the rest of the afternoon exchanging amused glances at each other.

-

Eddie waits until he’s back at the trailer to let everything sink in. When it does, he feels a vague sense of panic washing over him. 

Embarrassing as it is, Eddie’s never had a real, serious girlfriend before. Hell, aside from a brief flirtation with Tammy Thompson that ended in a very awkward hand job in the school parking lot, he’s never really had any experience with girls (or boys for that matter) at all. And Tammy was the one that initiated that. He wasn’t even really into her, he was just desperate for some sort of female attention. 

You, though, he is into you. Very, very much into you. And he has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do or say. He finally, finally has a chance to go out with his dream girl, and he’s almost certainly going to say something wrong and scare you off like pretty much everyone he’s ever been into. 

He wonders what the weather in Wisconsin is like this time of year, because he’s halfway to hopping in his van and heading there now, never to be seen or heard from in Hawkins, Indiana again.

Then again, maybe he’s over thinking it. It’s not like the word “date” ever came up in your conversation. Maybe this really is just him paying you back for his clumsiness, and afterwards you won’t even spare him a second thought. In the end, he figures that whatever the case, he’s not just going to leave you high and dry, so he has no choice but to go. 

-

Eddie shows up outside the record store at 2:45 the next day. He stands there awkwardly, fiddling with his rings and secretly hoping that you don’t show up and he doesn’t have to deal with all of this.

No such luck though, you appear exactly at 3, looking as cute as ever in your jean skirt. 

“Hey”, you greet and Eddie momentarily forgets how to speak.

“Hey”, he repeats, unable to formulate a coherent enough thought to do anything but copy your greeting.

“You ready to go?” you ask and he nods. 

The record store is a fair bit away from Scoops Ahoy, and for probably the first time in his life, Eddie finds himself unsure of what exactly to say. Thankfully, you take the lead.

“So, have you heard Megadeth’s album?” you ask, “I got it the first day it came out and I love it.”

“Me too”, Eddie says, and he can feel himself being knocked out of his stupor then, “you know, my friends and I have a metal band.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah”, he tells you, “we perform Wednesdays at the Hideout, if you ever want to come see us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind”, you smile and Eddie thinks his heart momentarily stops. 

Walking into Scoops Ahoy with you by his side is an almost unreal experience. You and him go up to the counter and Steve Harrington is there in his little sailor suit that Eddie almost feels sorry that he’s forced to wear. 

“Hey Steve”, you greet.

“Hey Y/N”, Steve replies, and then he notices that Eddie’s with you and he gets this super confused look on his face. 

“So, uh, get whatever you want I guess”, Eddie says.

Once you two have ordered and gotten your ice cream, you eat it while idly wandering around the mall, just chatting about anything and everything. Eddie, as always, is frequently cracking jokes, and God is it mesmerizing to see the way you laugh in response. 

It’s quite the disappointment when you’re finishing your ice cream and you’re bidding him farewell. 

He knows he has to at least try to see you again so he tests the waters with a quick “that was fun, we should do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that”, you smile.

“Awesome”, he replies.

“Here”, you say, rooting around in your purse, “give me your hand.”

He obliges, and you produce a pen, which you use to scribble something onto his outstretched hand.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“My number”, you reply, “call me tonight or tomorrow?”

“Sure”, he tells you. 

“Great”, you say, “I’ll see you, Eddie.”

“See you”, he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as absolutely lovesick to you as he does to himself. 

You flash him one final smile before departing, and he just stands there awkwardly for a second, watching as you go. Once you’ve disappeared from sight and he’s snapped out of his trance, he peers down at the numbers you’d scrawled onto his hand. He has to remind himself that it’d be weird to get them tattooed onto himself permanently. He can’t believe that it worked. You went on a date with him, in public, and didn’t care if you were seen together. You laughed at his jokes. You gave him his number and asked to see him again. You liked him. 

The trailer is as unbearably hot as ever when he returns, but for once, he doesn’t care. He’s too excited to call you later and hopefully set up another date. 

#stranger things #eddie munson #feral raccoon boy #nikki's fic library #nikki writes #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x femme!reader #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x femme!reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #god i hate tagging #also my boss has a bit of Sade obsession if you're wondering about the title

[wing-ed-thing]

Chaotic Best Friend Headcanons with Hidan

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Canon-Typical Themes and Violence, Partying, Mutual Physical Violence, Name Calling (bitch/asshole/bastard)

𓆃 It quite literally doesn't matter how many brain cells you have on your own. It doesn't even matter if you have a completely different demeanor to Hidan.

𓆃 When you're together, you pass one (1) brain cell back and forth, and the base of your friendship is mutually doing stupid shit together.

𓆃 Hidan will suggest ditching an Akatsuki meeting while someone's mid-monologue, and all it takes for him to start heading toward the door is a nod and a shrug from you.

𓆃 You're constantly dip from places without warning. It's become common knowledge to keep an eye on you, but then again, if someone's keeping an eye on the both of you, it'll only encourage more of your antics.

𓆃 You're constantly hitting each other, or at least trying to. If Hidan says something stupid, it's within the nature of your friendship that you just slap him. Punch him if it's really stupid.

𓆃 He's not afraid to break out the weaponry if you're having a serious fued. All kinds of injuries are fair game.

𓆃 But no matter how heated your argument gets, they never last for long. You're making up pretending nothing happened almost an hour later, if that.

𓆃 If anything, you'll talk about the injuries you gave each other in a half-complaint and half with admiration.

𓆃 You're almost never separated, and the time you spend together is usually spent playing made-up games with obscure rules.

𓆃 One of these games, most commonly played on missions, includes the highest kill count per outing which includes bonus points based on where the kill shot landed.

𓆃 This game has been outright banned by the leadership, because oftentimes to even the score, you make kills that are outside of the target demographic.

𓆃 Not to mention how at least Hidan tends to call out his points loudly.

𓆃 He oftentimes needs his calculations corrected, and will turn combative when you imply that his numbers are lower than they actually are.

𓆃 It's likely that you'll end up engaging in combat with each other until you inevitably realize that your catch got away. Then, it's an even more insufferable game of chasing the same target.

𓆃 The survivor will meet their end while you're fighting over them.

𓆃 You'll also bicker constantly over information, whether it's right, and what the details are. Doing tasks together is almost impossible given how often Hidan misunderstands basic information.

𓆃 But for as much as you fight with each other, no one should dare fuck with either of you and expect to survive.

𓆃 Sure, Hidan can call you an asshole and a bitch, but if that random guy at the bar dares call you names, Hidan isn't wasting any time making a killing blow.

𓆃 "Hey! I'm the only bastard who can call that asshole a bitch!"

𓆃 Hidan's also down to roll with whatever idea you ever have. If you want to go burn a whole village down because your date stood you up, Hidan is picking himself off the couch and grabbing his cloak because, "What else is he going to do?"

𓆃 He's also 100% ride or die and willing to go along with the longest plans if it means fun. 3 day bender? Hidan's not doing anything else.

𓆃 Don't want to go to the club alone? Hidan already knows the bartender and can get you free drinks.

𓆃 Want to make your ex jealous and pretend you have a new boyfriend, Hidan is down for a photoshoot.

𓆃 He can be a little too ride or die. He's bound to get arrested at some point for picking fights, but it's undeniable that he makes plenty of exceptions for you and your word.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: The soundtrack for theses headcanons is "Aliyah's Interlude - IT GIRL" on repeat. I had to find this song to write these headcanons to and I set it on loop until I was done.

#Hidan x reader #naruto x reader #akatsuki x reader #hidan #hidan akatsuki #hidan naruto #akatsuki #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #naruto headcanons #naruto headcanon #reader insert #naruto #x you #x reader

[bi-bard]

You're the First Glimmer of Hope I've Had in a Long Time - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: You're the First Glimmer of Hope I've Had in a Long Time

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader (use of they/them pronouns for the Reader)

Word Count: 6,194 words

Warning(s): brief violence, descriptions of manipulation, mention of violence/trauma at the hands of the Darkling

Summary: The Winter Fete has arrived. It brings games, excitement, and brilliant performances. None more brilliant than that of the Sun Summoner, who is about to make their public debut.

Author's Note: What? Kyli taking a break from writing challenges to update an OC that she hasn't talked about in ages? Wow.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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

Festivals were never a part of (Y/n)'s life in Ketterdam.

No, the city known for being lined with misfortune and grief was never known for putting on grand parties.

That must have been why (Y/n) was so focused on the sight outside their window. Why they couldn't pull their eyes from the carts being pulled in toward the main entrance. Performers of all sorts. Guests being brought to see them.

If the dread wasn't a heavy enough weight in their stomach, the anxiousness from the thought of a crowd watching them surely would be.

(Y/n) had become so focused on the bustling sounds outside that they hadn't noticed the doors opening and Genya walking in.

"Enjoying the festivities," she asked.

(Y/n) tried to hide any shock that may have presented itself. "From through a window, in a room with a locked door."

She hummed. "Come on. We have to get you ready."

There was a huff and some rolled eyes before (Y/n) finally plopped themself in the chair in front of the Tailor.

"You could pretend to be interested in all of this," Genya suggested. "It is all in celebration of you."

"It's not," (Y/n) replied. "It's a celebration of an idea of me. One that I may never well become."

There wasn't a response from the fellow Grisha. Instead, she reached out and touched (Y/n)'s face. There was so much concern etched onto her expression that it almost knocked the wind out of (Y/n). They had been too harsh.

"Sorry," they muttered. Genya wasn't at fault for (Y/n)'s predicament.

"No need," Genya forced a grin before going to sort through her case. "I understand your feelings about this all. Your stay, your gift, men like Kirigan."

"Speaking of...," (Y/n) grumbled. "Is the black necessary?"

"He insisted."

"It just feels like he's putting me on a leash. 'Look at my shiny pet'."

"You wore black before... almost exclusively."

"Of my will. It was different then. Better."

Genya nodded. "Well, I promise to make this feel right. More like you than him."

"Thank you."

It was then that the door to the room opened again. In walked David, the resident Fabrikator, with two gloves in his hands. They were tied together with a blue ribbon.

(Y/n) stood up rather abruptly, ever cautious of new people. Even more cautious of gifts that were coming from a place like the Little Palace.

"The General had me make these for your demonstration," David explained, holding them out. (Y/n) took them, turning them over in their hands.

"They're lovely," Genya complimented.

"What is their purpose," (Y/n) asked.

David grinned, clearly proud of his work. "They'll make it easier to split one beam into two."

"I see," (Y/n) mused. They gently placed the gloves on the nearby table.

David's grin fell as he watched the sun summoner easily turn one beam into two, allowing it to flutter around the space in front of them.

"While I appreciate the offer, I will be quite alright without them."

"Would you not like to try them?"

"Is there a reason that I should when I just showed you that I was perfectly capable of performing on my own?"

David took a breath before clearing his throat and taking the gloves. He walked out of the room again.

Genya's voice stopped him at the door. "See you at the Fete!"

David merely shared a look with her before leaving. A look that lasted far too long for it to be called polite or friendly. It almost made (Y/n) chuckle. How could two people be so blind that they couldn't see that they were sharing such a longing look?

"Come on then," Genya said. "We have to make sure that you're ready."

(Y/n) merely nodded, biting back any knowing look that wanted to form.

The final step of Genya's work was carefully placing a ring on (Y/n)'s finger. She explained that it was a symbol of luck. A personal gift from her. (Y/n) made no effort to argue. Some battles were not worth fighting.

Genya proceeded to drag (Y/n) through the halls of the Little Palace. There was some muttering about the kefta and how lovely it was going to look.

(Y/n) didn't believe her. Not truly. But who were they to crush Genya's spirits more than once in a day?

Instead, (Y/n) kept their attention trained outside, watching what festivities they could through the window.

Their walk was interrupted quite abruptly. (Y/n)'s eyes were dragged from the window to see Kirigan standing there.

"I was just going to find you," he explained. "I was hoping to discuss tonight's event."

(Y/n) took a deep breath, pushing their shoulders back to appear taller. "I was on my way to get ready."

"I will happily discuss the events while we walk to your fitting."

Genya and (Y/n) shared a look. (Y/n)'s was begging Genya to come up with some excuse why they could not go wandering off with the man who kidnapped them. Genya's was quietly pushing (Y/n) to just follow the general and get the conversation over with.

Kirigan motioned down the hall, pushing (Y/n) to walk with him.

As they walked forward, Kirigan fell into step. His hands were behind his back, a smug grin on his face. In his mind, this was the first step toward his goal. His future. A new age that he was prepared to usher in.

"How are you feeling," he asked, maintaining his act of care. Not mere kidnapper, but something close to a friend. It was not having as strong of an effect as he wished that it had.

"Fine," (Y/n) answered simply. Short answers were not unknown between the two of them.

"You decided against the gloves," Kirigan noted.

"I did not come here as a beginner," (Y/n) explained. "I have no need for them."

"They were a mere safeguard anyway," he replied. "In case of nerves."

"Luckily for you, I have learned to perform under pressure," (Y/n) shrugged. "I do not need any of them. Especially not from you."

Kirigan would have much more to say if they hadn't reached (Y/n)'s fitting room.

"Goodbye, Kirigan."

"Good luck, (Y/n)."

The door to the room opened and closed quickly, leaving little time for Kirigan to attempt another conversation.

(Y/n) was immediately pulled in a thousand directions. They knew that rest would not be offered until it was time to be presented before the crowd arriving for the event.

If only they had known about the plan unfolding just under their nose.

If they hadn't been so hidden, then they would have. Kaz's plans had become very familiar to them, as if there were a signature on them. Like an artist would to a painting.

While the dear Sun Summoner was being escorted, poked, tempted, and prepared to be put on show like a cow being taken to market, the Crows were making their moves around the Little Palace.

It all started with the layout of the palace. Kaz sneaking in as a guard and finding the fitting room that had been hidden by a door with no handle. Jesper looking for the perfect escape course for the soon-to-be-reunited group. Inej taking on the role of a performer to make it onto the grounds.

Once that had been done and the quartet had reconvened, it was time to put the proper plan into action. This was not merely collecting information. This was going in and returning with the person that mattered to them.

Kaz, Inej, and Jesper maintained their acts. They knew how to get to the main event and how to find the one that they needed to.

And then, there was the Conductor, who had become a much different part of this than he originally thought that he would be.

He was their distraction. Their hope of pulling the attention of General Kirigan away long enough to get to their dear missing Crow.

Night had fallen.

The Crows were in place.

The Conductor was just approaching the entrance.

And (Y/n) had just been guided to the main hall.

They never realized just how accustomed they had become to hiding in the shadows. How comforting being unknown had become to them.

They stepped into the room, dawning a black kefta with bright gold details. They were met by countless stares, each one more stunned than the next. Every single one of them felt too intrusive. (Y/n) wanted to go back to being hidden. They wanted to go back to being with their Crows.

If only they knew just how close that trio was.

Kirigan stood with a confident smirk on his face. A proud owner. The kefta had been a leash. 'Look at that. It's my new pet. So well-behaved, aren't they?' It made (Y/n)'s stomach churn.

He approached them. "The color suits you."

"When it's of my own choosing."

"Behave," he scolded quietly.

"Don't make it so difficult."

There was a deep breath taken by the general before he offered a hand to them. "Come on. We have a performance to give them."

Kaz and Inej were just stepping into the main hall, each one adorned in the outfit of the guards. Neither one of them truly knew what to expect of that night. But during such unprecedented times, who truly did?

They watched as Kirigan stepped onto the small, lifted platform.

Kaz found his eyes drifting just in front of the stage. He found the back of a black kefta with intricate detailing. He knew who he was watching. He also knew that he could do nothing about that.

Inej stepped away from him, finding a place with a clear view of the stage.

(Y/n) stepped on the stage after Kirigan, stepping behind him so he could look out at the audience surrounding him.

"This is (Y/n) (Y/l/n)," Kirigan announced. "And they will bring liberation to us all."

(Y/n) had to fight any urge to lower their head or close their eyes. They had to fight to not hide from the crowd watching them. They hid that urge well... from the ones who didn't know them.

Kirigan stepped off the stage, taking a few steps forward before bringing his hands together in front of them. The sharp slap was accompanied by quick-moving darkness that consumed the audience. Maybe that was for the best.

(Y/n) lift their hands, moving them until a circle had formed in front of them. Another sphere formed in the other hand. With a deep breath, they casted it forward, forcing the light to consume the dark. It was an explosion, one that left the room speechless.

As the atmosphere settled around them, murmuring started. Small whispers of 'Sankta (Y/n)' filled the room as people began to kneel and touch their foreheads and then their hearts.

(Y/n) dragged their eyes along the crowd.

It was then that someone stuck out. Someone familiar. It was a matter of seconds before they were seemingly gone.

Inej.

(Y/n) would always recognize the Crows. No matter how long it had been or what was going on in the world around them. They would always recognize the Crows.

And if Inej was here, then that meant that (Y/n) may finally be free.

(Y/n) played the role of polite and kind well as they made their way off the stage. They bowed their head and thanked people, trying to make their movements seem less intentional than they were.

Maybe if Kirigan hadn't been pulled away, he would have paid more attention to them.

There was another Grisha whispering in his ear that distracted him.

News of a man reporting to have found the Stag.

In his hand was a letter promising a location in exchange for a meeting with the General. The only reason that he had been trusted was because the only people meant to know of the Stag was the First Army. This man would not arrive with a lie of something he should have no knowledge of.

The man had been guided to a room. Kirigan's chambers, to be specific. He was told to wait there. Kirigan would be there to speak with him soon.

The man- the Conductor- did not heed such warnings.

Again, his role was not what he thought it was. His goal was much different than the three criminals he had brought across the Fold.

They intended to bring home their dear friend. He intended to kill the Sun Summoner before the revolution of West Ravka could be stopped.

He found the hidden room easily. (Y/n) was sitting near a mirror, getting ready for the dinner that was going to occur that night.

He was silent as he stepped forward. He quietly, effortlessly grabbed (Y/n)'s head and pulled it back enough to drag a blade along their throat, leaving them bleeding and gasping for air.

Unbeknownst to him, Kaz knew that this was going to happen.

Just as he knew that the person the Conductor had just killed wasn't the Sun Summoner. It was all merely a trick. One meant to lure in whoever was dumb enough to take the bait.

The Conductor was found outside the fitting room, knife in his hand, and no ounce of regret sitting on his face. He was dragged away to a place where he could be held until the general was able to speak to him.

While the chaos was unfolding, (Y/n) was busy finding whoever they had spotted in the main event.

Escaping the guards was easy enough. Old tricks and techniques got them away for long enough that they were allowed to trace the halls freely. Too many people were focused on the main event to notice them moving.

They just needed to know the truth. They needed to know if this was truly the day that everything was made right.

They had become so fixated on finding whoever they had seen that they weren't paying enough attention to the world around them. Such a failure resulted in a sudden shock when they were grabbed and dragged into another room.

They shoved themself away from the body that had grabbed them to see a guard standing calmly. She had let (Y/n) go quite easily. This was no fight or murder attempt. It was simply an act to save some time in the long run.

"What are you doing," (Y/n) asked.

They looked around the room quickly. It was dark. There was a large round table with figures and maps thrown all around it. There was another room where (Y/n) could just barely see the edge of a mattress. It was someone's chambers, (Y/n) just wasn't sure whose.

"Answer me," they demanded.

"I am merely an aid," the guard replied.

There was the sound of a creaking door being opened. (Y/n) turned around quickly, hands raised to fight off whatever attacker was there.

There was no attacker.

"Baghra," (Y/n) said. "What do you want? Where am I?"

"I'm here to protect you," she explained. "Come on."

(Y/n) didn't flinch.

"You don't know where you are, do you," she tilted her head. "Kirigan could come back at any moment if you wait here."

(Y/n) stepped forward, whispering angrily, "You dragged me into the chambers of the man holding me hostage?"

"If there were any other option, I would have chosen it. Now, come on."

There was a quiet huff before (Y/n) stepped inside the passageway that had been hidden behind some bookcase.

"I am trying to get you out of here," she continued as the pair moved. "Save you from living your life as a slave."

"I don't need your help-"

"Yes, because your precious Crows are here, I know."

(Y/n) stopped abruptly. "They are? Truly?"

"You didn't know?"

"I thought that I was imagining things."

Baghra let out a sigh before continuing to push them along.

"Why help me now? You have had ages to protect me. To get me out."

"I didn't have a way to get you out without being caught. The guards and Aleksander have kept a close eye on you until tonight. Might be something your Crows did."

It was. (Y/n) just didn't know that yet.

"Aleksander intends to use your power to expand the Fold," she continued. "Weaponize it. That's what he created it for in the first place."

"The Black Heretic created the Fold," (Y/n) corrected. "Hundreds of years ago. Kirigan- Aleksander- whoever he is may want to weaponize it, but he didn't create it."

"Is it truly impossible?"

(Y/n) paused. Grisha aged slower than normal humans, that was true. "I thought that the Black Heretic was killed for what he had done."

"Is that what Aleksander told you?"

Another pause. No. (Y/n) had heard that ending to the story somewhere else, hadn't they? They wouldn't have blindly trusted his word if they had never heard about it before, would they?

Most people left out what happened immediately after the creation of the Fold. They usually jump to the impact of it. Where Ravka was now.

Baghra's story was adding up much faster than (Y/n) thought it would.

"Child, Aleksander is the Black Heretic," Baghra said. "He chose a nobleman's name to hide after he had created the Fold. And he made himself a hero."

(Y/n) didn't truly doubt the story, but they needed the confirmation. They stopped walking. "How do you know this?"

"How do you think I know this?"

Baghra waved her hand and darkness began to fill the halls around them.

"You're related," (Y/n) concluded.

"More than a mere relation," she replied.

"You're his mother."

"Yes."

"You're his mother and you have done nothing for centuries?"

Baghra didn't respond, merely staring at the Sun Summoner in silence.

"You were steps away from your son, you knew what he had done, and yet you did nothing to stop it?"

"Do you believe that I have the power to tear down the Fold? To reverse the unimaginable?"

"No," (Y/n) shook their head. "I'm not talking about the Fold. I mean everything that he did after it. Young Grisha, young boys and girls forced to join armies... helpless women forced to play his game. You could have protected them. Stopped him from manipulating them and twisting them and... using them."

"He has had a long time to master the art of manipulating young, naive girls."

"And you have had just as long to master how to stop him from doing so."

"Who exactly do you so desperately want me to protect?" Baghra stepped closer to (Y/n). "You have made no friends here. No connections. Who are you so desperate to help?"

Genya. Of course, it was Genya. The one person that (Y/n) saw every day. She was far too familiar to (Y/n) for them to not feel a desperation to pull the young woman to freedom and peace. Not that Genya would ever follow them. She was stuck too far under Kirigan's thumb.

And Zoya, who had been one of few to look at (Y/n) with some kind of genuine respect. The only one to see beyond the Grisha abilities and see someone clever and talented. She was strong enough to fight back. She probably would have helped Baghra tear down Kirigan's little empire if he hadn't gotten such a firm hold on her.

(Y/n) would never say either of these names. They were still too apprehensive about the woman's intentions to allow her such information.

"It's bold of you to blame me for my son's crimes," Baghra continued. "My son tried to create his own army using merzost. He didn't think about the people who lived there... what such power would do to them. Turned them into the twisted, evil things that attacked you."

"The Volcra."

"Tell me, is that my fault?"

"I never said it was," (Y/n) replied. "I just wish you had taken action before you knew of my existence. I should not be the only thing inspiring you to be better."

Baghra took a deep breath before shaking her head. She walked to a heavy-looking door and pulled it open. "You need to go. Now. Take that path. You must hide. You already almost gave him the Stag, don't give him your power too."

(Y/n) never told Kirigan of the Stag. They had only told Genya. Survival is a powerful motivator.

"Follow the main path until the fork," Baghra advised, not following (Y/n) beyond the entrance. "Turn right. Wait there. There's food there. I have some Grisha that are loyal to me. They'll keep you safe until I can devise a plan. Go."

(Y/n) didn't listen. They followed the main path, but at the fork, they went left. Baghra's interest was one that they didn't want to entertain any more than they had Kirigan's.

Relief didn't cross (Y/n)'s face until they made it to the stables.

After stealing some clothes and narrowly avoiding some guards, (Y/n) stepped out into the main field. The new clothes didn't fit right, but they did what was necessary. All (Y/n) needed was something to last long enough for them to leave.

There was a carriage waiting there. It seemed like an easy enough plan. Steal the carriage or at least a horse and make it out before Kirigan truly knew they were missing.

"(Y/n)."

They froze, ready to fight whoever had spoken. They were met with Jesper standing before them.

They never realized how comforting his face was. Not until the mere sight of him forced a shaky sigh to escape them. The relief that crashed over them at the sight of him, alive and well and here.

"Jesper..."

(Y/n)'s voice was weak. Weaker than Jesper had ever heard it before. But that wasn't what worried him most. What worried him most were the tears sitting in (Y/n)'s eyes, waiting to fall.

He found himself angry. Angrier than ever before. What had they done here? What had these people done to his best friend? And how long was it going to take for him to shoot them all for it?

He decided to hide his seething anger with some light humor, "You doubted that I'd find you?"

Never. That was what (Y/n) wanted to say. They never doubted him or Inej or Kaz. They were simply too overwhelmed to get the words out. Too overwhelmed by anger toward Kirigan and those who had lied to protect him and his plans. Too overwhelmed by relief at the knowledge that it had been Inej standing there in the room of unfamiliar faces.

Instead of speaking, (Y/n) took a few more stumbling steps forward, falling unceremoniously into Jesper's arms, tightly wrapping their arms around his torso. Jesper quietly hushed them as he felt them shaking. He mumbled small words of comfort, but he was certain that none of them had any impact. He just wanted to know that he had tried.

There was a sound somewhere. Some kind of distant crash in the direction that (Y/n) had come from.

"Get in," Jesper dragged them over to a crate on the back of the carriage. They listened to him, curling in on themself so he could get the lid shut and leave them in darkness.

(Y/n) could hear a few faint voices outside, but they were too quiet to recognize. That was okay. Jesper would keep them safe. They believed that.

For the first time in ages, they let their eyes close and their breath even out.

The carriage didn't stop until early morning. (Y/n) only knew due to the small amount of light poking through the small cracks in the wood.

The lid opened and Jesper's face once again took on a form of comfort. He offered a hand to them.

They stood up and carefully climbed out of the box. Inej and Kaz were standing there, Kaz with little to no expression and Inej with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Jesper made sure that (Y/n) was steady on the ground before smiling proudly at the other two.

"Hello," (Y/n) said softly. They decided to try to pull some tension away from the situation. "Took you guys long enough-"

The joke barely left their lips before Inej stepped forward and wrapped them in a tight hug. They hugged her back, eyes screwing shut as they let out a heavy sigh.

"I've missed you," they muttered to her.

Inej stepped back and touched their face. "I missed you too."

"I saw you. At the Fete. You were watching the presentation."

She slowly bowed her head.

"Please don't do that," (Y/n) begged. "I don't want you to see me as anything other than your friend. I am no Saint."

"Ravka would disagree," Kaz's voice chimed in. He had both of his hands clasped on the top of his cane. They were shifting a bit, as if he was physically trying to keep himself from stepping forward and wrapping his arms around (Y/n).

"Hi," (Y/n) grinned at him.

He nodded. "Hi."

There was a long pause as the two of them watched each other. Each one deciding who should make the next move. Each of them deciding what an acceptable next move would be. They had been waiting for the moment when they faced each other again and neither one of them had bothered to consider what they should do when it finally happened.

"Well," Jesper clapped as he finally spoke. "I am starving. Shall we?"

"Find a safe place first," Kaz said. "We can't have (Y/n) walking around in the open. Too much of a risk."

"Fine," Jesper muttered, rolling his eyes.

The quartet found shelter in a rundown house of sorts. One that hid them well but gave them enough room to see if any unwelcomed guests were to join them.

Inej and Jesper went out on a search for food. Kaz insisted on staying with (Y/n). It was for protection... and not at all because of how much time he had lost with them. No, no, that would be a foolish reason.

"I missed you," (Y/n) commented quietly once the two were alone. "I thought of you a lot while I was at the Little Palace."

Kaz stayed quiet. He was scared of saying the wrong thing. Of his emotions taking over and leading him into pouring out every word that he would never be able to say otherwise.

He was scared of telling (Y/n) how much he had missed them.

Of telling them how when he heard that they had gone missing, he thought his heart had stopped. How he had been prepared to cross the Fold on foot if that was what it took to ensure their safety and ensure that they came back to him. How he could have spent a hundred years fighting to get them back and it would have never mattered to him. He would have done it all so effortlessly because a world with a thought of them was better than a world without ever having them.

Of telling them that he kept dreaming of them. Not just after their kidnapping, but before. How he had seen visions of them reconnecting, of the moment he was finally able to be enough for them. He could vividly see the moment that he let them be there, warming him with the energy that twisted around their veins. Let them see him beyond the role of the leader or the boss.

Of telling them how desperately he had been craving them. Their presence and their voice and their gift. Even their touch. Something so unknown to him, terrifying even, yet so tempting. How could you miss something you never experienced?

Kaz didn't know and he was sure that knowing would do him any good.

Instead of taking that risk, Kaz sat quietly.

"You crossed the Fold for me," (Y/n) commented after a while. He raised an eyebrow at them. "Why? Surely there are other people who can perform sleight of hand in the Barrel. You could have left me. Allowed me to stay stuck with Kirigan. Probably would have been less expensive that way."

Because I needed you, he thought, but his tongue put a stop to those words before they could consider escaping, "Inej and Jesper convinced me."

"That's it then," (Y/n) asked. "That's the only reason?"

"What other reason would there be?"

(Y/n) took a deep breath. "I don't know."

Before either one of them could continue the ever-so-riveting conversation, Inej and Jesper found their way back to them.

The four of them ate quietly for a few minutes before (Y/n) asked about how they crossed the Fold. It was a story that Jesper was all too excited to tell.

He spoke of the Conductor and the train through the Fold. Of Milo the goat and the fate that became of him. (Y/n) grinned as they listened. They had missed Jesper's rambling so much more than they realized. It was calming to listen to him rant and rave about the things that had upset him or merely distracted him. It was familiar. (Y/n) needed familiar.

"And then, there was this drunk soldier that almost spilled his drink all over me," he explained. "He was going on and on about needing a crew to go find this mysterious Stag that the general wanted for something."

"The stag?" (Y/n) interrupted. All three of the others looked at them. "You know about the Stag?"

"Kirigan sent out a notice," Inej said. "He wanted it tracked. Sent out a drawing."

"It was the leverage we had to ensure that at least one of us could make it into the Little Palace," Jesper added. "Took us ages to find the thing."

"You found the Stag," (Y/n) asked, looking between the three of them.

"Inej did most of the work," Jesper confessed.

"This is brilliant," they replied, a genuine smile stretching across their face. Oh, how good it felt for it to not be a forced act of politeness.

"What is this Stag," Kaz leaned forward. "Why does the general want it so much?"

"It's... It's an amplifier," (Y/n) explained excitedly. "One of Morozova's creatures. It's... I've been seeing it in my dreams. If I can get to it, I may be powerful enough to take down Kirigan... maybe the whole Fold."

"If it made you that powerful, then why would he want it?" Jesper furrowed his eyebrows.

(Y/n) paused, embarrassed. As if any of this was their fault. "His plan was to use the Stag to make himself powerful enough to use me to expand the Fold. He wanted to use it as a weapon. It's... It's the same reason that he created it. He's the Black Heretic that created the Fold centuries ago. And he was biding his time until he found me. To him, I am a tool. A means to an end."

Inej and Jesper shifted, both of them uneasy about the realization. Kaz's eyes shifted for a moment but that was the only reaction that he allowed to be on display.

"We have to find it before he does. Do you remember where it was?"

"Yes," Inej nodded. "It wouldn't be a short trip."

"We just need to get going as soon as possible then. Who knows how long we have until he finds us here? We don't know how much of a head start we truly have."

Almost as soon as the sun fell, the Crows were ready to move out, hoping to use the shadows as a cover.

They were interrupted by the sound of a carriage outside. All four of them paused. Inej moved to the window.

"It's from the Little Palace."

"Saints," (Y/n) muttered, moving over to join her. "He's brought Grisha."

"What kinds are they," Inej asked.

"That's Zoya... she's a squaller, that one's an Inferni, the one in red is a Heartrender, and the one pushed back into the carriage is David, a Durast."

"We have to split up," Kaz advised. "Much easier to take a Grisha one-on-one than a whole squad of them."

"I could take them all out with a single blow," (Y/n) replied.

"And fall right into Kirigan's hand," he added. "We cannot risk that before you have the amplifier."

"Fine."

"With me," he instructed them. He looked to Inej and Jesper. "Stay safe. Rendezvous at the fountain, understood?"

Both of them nodded.

"Wait," Inej said. She jogged over and handed (Y/n) a knife. "I know you don't need it, but... just in case."

(Y/n) grinned at her. "Good luck."

Kaz and (Y/n) made for the entrance farthest away from where the carriage was. The hope was to have enough time to collect themselves before anyone was able to track them down. Then, they'd be ready for a fight if they needed one.

(Y/n) noticed Zoya following them before Kaz did. As much as they wanted to believe that mutual respect would have some impact on Zoya's actions, they couldn't take that risk.

They reached over and took Kaz's hat, placing it carefully on another man's head.

When there were sounds of people gasping and yelling, (Y/n) led Kaz into an alley as if they were just two more scared faces in the crowd.

Kaz paused, staring out at the street. "You need to go."

"Not without you."

"Not a choice, go."

"Kaz-"

"Go."

"Kaz, no, I'm not abandoning you three-"

"We will find you," he snapped. "Go."

(Y/n) paused, watching him closely for a moment. They hoped that he would realize what he was attempting to do, what he was facing. They had just gotten him back; they didn't want him to get himself killed now. All four of them had gone through too much to go through that now.

"We found you once. We'll do it again," Kaz promised. "Now, go."

(Y/n) finally relented, turning around and making their way down the alley, taking a turn to end up on a different street than Kaz did.

Kaz found the other end of the alley. An empty street. Quiet.

And then, there was a clear shift in the air.

Kirigan stepped out of the darkness. Kaz shifted, planting his feet more firmly on the ground.

"I know you kidnapped my Sun Summoner," Kirigan said as he stepped closer. "And now you're going to tell me where you stashed them."

"They were never yours," Kaz replied simply, still taking steps back from the general. "And we didn't take them. They found their way back."

"Where are they?"

"Don't know. I just know that they didn't feel like being a captive anymore."

There were a thousand things that Kaz wanted to say to Kirigan. Even more things that Kaz wanted to do to hurt him. But he wasn't a fool. He knew better than to enter a fight with someone like Kirigan.

"As far as I know, they could be halfway back to Ketterdam already."

"And the Sun Summoner belongs to you again?"

"(Y/n) never belonged to me."

It was one of the things that drew Kaz to them in the first place. This fierce independence that was only overcome by a desire to protect the people they cared for. Kaz never realized how much he admired it.

"Unlike you, I never needed to hold them captive for them to listen to me."

Kirigan stepped forward again. Shadows began to creep up behind him.

Kaz reached into his bag and pulled out a smoke bomb. He held it tight in his hand.

"You should have stayed in Ketterdam, Mr. Brekker."

As Kirigan threw the cut at Kaz, the smoke bomb hit the ground.

What was left was a broken barrel, a few pieces of the wall knocked loose, and no sign of the Crow anywhere to be seen. Kirigan let out a quiet grumble as he stormed off.

Kaz continued his path down a new alley, trying to find some way to Jesper and Inej before they could all go find (Y/n).

As Kaz was making his daring escape, (Y/n) was making it out of the city. They were heading for the forest nearby, desperate to have some kind of cover. They needed to be away from the crowds. There was less of a chance of them being ratted out and if they were found, the Grisha were less likely to hurt any civilians if they were in the woods.

(Y/n) had no way of truly knowing what was going to happen. They wanted to believe that it would all work out, but they were never foolish enough to hold onto that much hope.

Regardless of whatever future may unfold, (Y/n) knew one thing: they had come too far for this to be the last time they see the Crows.

So, as they made it into the forest and found a safe and hidden spot to make camp, they pulled out the sharp blade that Inej had offered them.

In a tree, they carefully carved a message. A message that served two meanings. One was to tell the Crows exactly where they were without telling anyone else. The other was to be a reminder to all of them about how important it was for them to make it out of this together.

N.M.N.F

No mourners, no funerals.

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Author's Note: That title could relate to three different things in this story. Just so y'all know.

Also, I was very aware of the fact that I would get my ass kicked if I didn't feature Kaz and Kirigan meeting.

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[tenpintsofsundrop]

Missing You

Gar Logan x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd Smut Blurb

Concept: Gar misses his two best friends. When he calls the two of you, he certainly doesn't expect to find you in such a... compromising situation.

Word Count: 2,800

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: there is a lot of Gar/Jason (emotionally and sexually), dubious consent - Gar listens to the reader and Jason having sex without their consent (but they don’t mind when they do find out), invasion of privacy (but again, they don’t mind it), would this be considered eavesdropping?, accidental voyeurism (and then on purpose voyeurism), Gar masturbates while listening to Jason and the reader have sex over a FaceTime call but Jason and the reader don’t know Gar is listening, Gar feels slightly guilty about being horny in this situation, lots of dirty talk, Jason is more dominant, reader is definitely submissive, Gar is (slightly?) submissive (though he is not ‘involved’ for most of the sex act), the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (though she is not really the ‘center’ of this fic), Jason has a filthy mouth, p in v sex (between Jason and reader) - actually protected sex this time (which is a surprise for my fics) (it’s my headcanon that Jason is a big proponent for condoms/safe sex), degradation kink (towards the reader), terms used to describe the reader: slutty/slut, cocksleeve, hole, fucktoy/toy, cumdump, good girl; slightly possessive Jason (but it’s clear that he doesn’t mind sharing with Gar), spanking (very light, no severe pain kink) - mention of clit spanking, mention of orgasm restriction, mentions of sexting/sending nudes. I believe that’s everything.

A/N: This is a repost. I did some tweaking to it, but it is still mostly the same. So if you have read it before, I hope you enjoy it. And if it's your first time reading it, I hope you like it again. I have a half-finished sequel to this in my drafts, so if you wanna see it, definitely leave a comment or an anon telling me you wanna see it.

...

The concept of butt-dailing was something that still mystified Gar. 

He understood why it was a thing in the 2000s, sure. A time when people’s phones still had tactile buttons on them, when you could sit on your phone in your back pocket and start pressing things by accident. But these days? Why was the term even still used? 

How can you call someone by accident? How can you have an entire phone conversation with someone by mistake? 

On that day, it hadn’t been Jason that called him - no, Gar was the one calling Jason. 

Gar hated to admit it, but he was fucking lonely. He had a soft heart and if he went too long without talking to his friends, without hearing their laughter, then he wilted like an unwatered plant. It wasn’t something that he ever said aloud, but it was something that was very easy to tell for the people who were closest to him. 

So Jason had taken to calling him on a regular basis. And ironically, because of it, the two had actually grown a lot closer in the Robin’s absence. 

Their friendship bloomed because of the long, late-night phone calls where Jason’s tired voice mumbled things to Gar as he fell asleep, admitting things about his past and the pain he sometimes felt that he never would have told anyone else. And they often spent hours on Discord calls as they kicked ass together playing COD or some other stupid game like Mount Your Friends. Even though on that day the Tower was practically empty, Gar found himself missing Jason the most. 

Ever since you had gone to Gotham to visit Jason, Gar’s other closest friend abandoning him, Gar had practically gone mad with loneliness. Rachel was off on a ‘girls trip’ with Donna, Dawn, and Kory, and Dick was attending some kind of ‘League’ business. Hank was leading a ‘be a better you’ sobriety seminar in another city, and Gar still found himself feeling like an outsider when hanging out with Rose and Jericho. 

So where did that leave him? 

Alone in his room, sprawled out on his bed. 

He had thumbed over Jason’s contact in his phone several times before he actually decided to put in his earbuds and give the guy a call. Surely his best friend wouldn’t consider him needy after the three hour long timestamps on their other calls. If Jason was busy, Gar could simply find something else to entertain himself. He could probably best his Resident Evil speedruns. Again. 

But selfishly, he was hoping Jason would pick up and talk to him for a while. Maybe you would be lounging around with Jason and he would get to talk to the both of you. That would be really nice. 

When the FaceTime call was answered on the other end, the screen was dark. Gar thought for a moment that Jason was just busy - that he was pressing his phone to his chest until he could get into another room to take the call. But for a few moments, all he heard was deep breathing, some grunting. The sound of Jason training? 

He was definitely inside Jason’s pocket. 

See, Jason hadn’t even noticed the incoming call. He had his phone on silent, and he had answered it completely by mistake. Turns out, the rapid, rhythmic thrusting of his hips had somehow successfully pressed the ‘answer’ button, even with the phone shoved deep in his back pocket. 

And Jason wasn’t really in a position to have a friendly, ‘let’s chat about COD’ video chat with his best friend. 

He was balls-deep inside of you. With his thick, hard cock out through the zipper of his pants with his phone still inside of his back pocket. He was thrusting into you where you were face down on his bed, on your knees exactly how he wanted you. 

It was a huge part of the reason you had come to visit him. The two of you had been fooling around for as long as you had known each other, and you couldn’t seem to go for very long without fucking the other person. It brought you both relief from your stressful vigilante lifestyle, and it was the best sex either of you ever had. Not that any of your friends knew that you had a ‘thing’ going on, of course. 

Gar was about to hang up the call, believing that he had caught Jason at a bad time and realizing that the guy didn’t even know his phone was on. But he froze completely still when he heard it. 

“Fuck, babe, take my cock.” Jason groaned, his voice absolutely thick with sex. “Fucking take it.” 

It was something that instantly made Gar tremble, made blood rush to his cock as he heard his friend’s voice in a way that he never had before. The sound was rough in his headphones, distant and not nearly as pure as it would have been in person. But it made Gar’s blood run hot in seconds, made him so turned on so quickly that he became dizzy. 

Gar’s hand itched to reach down and grip his cock through his pants, but he knew that he shouldn’t. He knew it was wrong. He should just hang up the call and hope that Jason never saw it in his call history. The longer he stayed there and listened, the more suspicious the timestamp would look in the call history if Jason ever saw it. 

But Gar was frozen in his tracks when he heard something that absolutely made his head spin. 

“Yes!” It was your voice. “Fuck, I fucking love your cock. I’m just a slutty little cocksleeve for you, Jay!” 

High pitched and needy, moaning out - it was you. You, screaming those entirely pornographic words, followed by a deep grunt from Jason. 

Gar let out a sharp breath. It hadn’t occurred to him who Jason might be fucking. Or that he was fucking someone at all, and that he wasn’t just alone, fucking his own hand. 

Gar almost couldn’t believe that this was happening. The two people that he had been attracted to for so long now, playing out an epic sex fantasy for his own ears. He knew that it was so horribly wrong, but he probably wouldn’t have hung up the call if someone had pointed a gun to his head. 

“Yeah, you are.” Jason replied, his voice slightly obscured from the phone being in his pocket. “You’re my perfect slut. Such a good fucktoy, aren’t you, Y/N?” 

Jason saying your name with such a deep, possessive need, paired with the way he spoke so confidentially - it forced Gar to imagine how long the two of you had been in a relationship like this. How long the two of you had been playing around behind everyone’s backs to know each other’s kinks so well without crossing any boundaries. Even with his brain so lust-clouded, his thoughts flashed through all of the times you and Jason had snuck off together, or made lame excuses to go to bed early when Jason had still been living at the Tower. 

Gar was upset that he hadn’t found out about this sooner. His brain conjured up a fantasy of him sneaking into Jason’s room late at night, and seeing you on your knees for his best friend. He easily imagined Jason inviting him to stay, telling Gar what a slut you were, how much you would love to have two guys at once. Him and Jason passing you around, your wetness making both of their cocks shine. If you were the ‘fucktoy’ that he claimed you to be, it probably wouldn’t be that far from reality. 

There was a wet, slapping sound - Jason fucking into you harder as you moaned and struggled for breath. 

Gar’s cock pulsed with need. 

Something in the back of his brain screamed that it was wrong and that he needed to hang up, but his cock screamed louder. So he untied the string of his pants with haste and racked them down over his aching balls. Just to be safe, he muted his end of the call so that Jason wouldn’t hear any noises he made. 

(If he had been thinking a bit clearer, he would have realized that any noise he made, especially echoing into Jason’s back pocket, would have simply gotten lost in the haze of sweat and sex that the two of you were making in Jason’s bedroom. But - better safe than sorry, right?) 

In his mind, muting the call seemed even more reasonable when he let out a deep moan the second he took his hard dick into his hand. More beautiful sounds from you and Jason came in through his headphones as he began to jerk himself off. 

“Fucking love how you take my cock, fucking love how this slutty pussy gets so wet for me.”

Jason’s dirty mouth continued as Gar’s hand started a steady rhythm. Gar was already leaking precum that easily slicked him up - he was absolutely dizzy at the sound of Jason’s sex-graveled voice. 

“Just a fucking hole for me to cum in.” Jason growled. “You love it, don’t you? You love being my fucking toy. My fucking cumdump.” 

The pure filth coming out of Jason’s mouth surprised Gar, just as much as his own reaction did. The way his dick jumped in his hand and his lungs released a moan, his tip leaking even more precum at the words. He had no fucking idea that you and Jason were so dirty, that you liked being… degraded so much. Because clearly you loved it, with the wailing moan that you echoed back in response. 

“I love it!” You told Jason, your tone desperate and breathy, worn with sex. “I love being your cumdump. I’m just a hole for you to use!” 

Gar tried to imagine what the two of you might look like in that moment. Were you on your back, your legs spread wide for Jason? Were you completely naked with your tits swaying with his every thrust? Were you on your hands and knees, ass out like a bitch in heat for Jason? 

Gar pumped his cock faster at the thought, his precum making it sound absolutely slick, unrestrained grunts coming from his parted lips as he continued to listen you and Jason fuck. He would feel guilty for this later, but right now, he was absolutely dizzy with lust and needed to hear more. 

“You gonna cum on my cock, slut?” Jason’s voice was sharp, demanding. 

It sounded like Jason was holding back the urge to cum himself and he needed you to get there first. There was a sharp sound - skin hitting skin, higher in pitch and less muffled than the constant pounding of Jason into your cunt. Jason had spanked you. Gar’s orgasm swelled in his belly as he imagined Jason’s hand coming down against your skin, making the fat of your ass bounce or - fuck, Jason’s hand blooming against your wet clit. (Gar hated that he would never know which it actually was.) 

“Be a good girl. Cum for me.” Jason demanded, throat strangling his voice as he drowned in his own arousal. 

And just like that, you dissolved into a fury of sounds. Gar caught you chanting ‘I’m a hole! I’m a hole! I’m a hole!’ as though it was the only thing on your mind, increasing in volume as your orgasm overtook you, but it was muffled after a moment and Gar heard Jason grunt the words ‘shut up’ in the most sharp, dangerous voice he had ever heard from his best friend. 

Gar’s mind was immediately struck with the picture of Jason’s hand on the back of your head, shoving you into the bed to quiet your whorish moaning, and this was what sent him over the edge. His stomach curled so hard that it practically made him nauseous, his body drawing up off the bed as he pumped his cock hard and fast. He pumped himself dry as cum splashed up over his (thankfully) naked stomach and dirtied him in hot, white waves. 

Gar’s body was still trembling when he heard Jason rattle out a shuddering moan, a sure sign that he was cumming too. 

Gar should have rushed to end the call. 

But it seemed impossible to move at this point - his bones were practically made out of jelly from the intensity of his orgasm. The hand holding the phone had dropped it against his chest, the sound still coming in clear from his earbuds. He was desperate to catch his breath, and his cum still warm against his stomach when he heard it. 

There was a shifting, a rustling sound - fuck, Jason was taking his phone out of his pocket. 

Gar panicked. 

But his orgasm had been so spectacular that it had knocked all the sense out of him, including his usually good reflexes, so he was slow to pick his phone back up. When he did, his heart jumped in his chest when he found Jason staring at him, wearing a wide smirk. 

In the time it had taken Gar to recover, Jason had taken his phone out - with the original purpose to check the time. Alfred always had a very specific time for dinner, and always became cranky if anyone was late. Jason certainly didn’t need anyone to come looking for you and him, seeing the compromising position that you found yourselves in. 

Jason was surprised when he found the call with Gar going. And once he had checked the timestamp on the still ongoing call, he immediately knew what had happened. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jason said, his voice slightly rough from the sex, but entirely confident, unshaken. 

“Uh - I - I -” Gar stuttered. 

When Jason saw his lips moving and didn’t hear any sound, he quickly spoke up. 

“Unmute the call, dickhead.” Jason told him, giving a small chuckle with the offensive, affectionate nickname. 

Right. Gar had muted it to participate in his perverted voyeurism. 

As Gar reached up to find the button, he realized his hand was still covered in cum. 

Jason licked his lips as he saw substance smeared all over Gar’s palm and saw his friend reaching for tissues off to the side. As Gar raced to clean off his hand, you appeared behind Jason’s shoulder in the frame of the call. You were wearing a bra, your skin slightly slicked with sweat and tear tracks coming off the side of your eyes - clearly from pleasure and not from pain. 

“You had Gar on a FaceTime call?” Your tone was a breathy giggle, clearly not at all upset at the idea that your friend had been listening in on you being fucked and called degrading names. “Kinky. Did you call him while you were putting the condom on?” 

Gar unmuted the call with his now clean(er) hand, but waited in silence for you and Jason to finish your conversation. He was surprised that you didn’t seem to care; that you seemed to think it was some kind of pre-planned kink that Jason had executed. Gar’s stomach twisted at the thought of it, that you and Jason had discussed inviting another person into your sex life and you were more than okay with it being Gar. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Jason told you. “Go get cleaned up for dinner.” 

You simply nodded, and leaned in to give Jason a kiss - a soft, gentle sight that was entirely arousing in contrast to the rough, filthy sex that Gar knew the two of you just had. It was even more arousing when you walked out of frame and Gar heard another spank to your bare skin (clearly you weren’t wearing bottoms) - and heard you let out a delighted squeak in response. 

“Look, I can explain-” Gar began his groveling, but Jason quickly cut him off. 

“Quiet.” Jason said, his tone taking on a kind of authority that made Gar’s stomach jump. “Next time this happens, we get to watch you cum, or you don’t get to cum at all. Got it?” 

Gar’s cock was quickly filling with blood again at Jason speaking to him this way, so boldly, making sexual demands over his body. His mouth was dry and lost for words so he simply nodded in response. He opened his mouth to attempt to speak - to apologize, to ask for clarity, to ask Jason when ‘the next time’ would be. 

But now that Jason had Gar’s simple affirmation, he hung up the call. 

Gar - unable to help himself - stretched an arm out and took a picture of his half hard cock and his shirtless body, still covered in his cum. He hesitated to send it, though. After a long mental debate in the shower, it came back to his phone sitting on his nightstand, and sent it to Jason with a caption that read ‘I really did enjoy the show’. 

It pinged Jason’s phone when he was sitting at the dinner table with you and Bruce. And as he looked at it under the table, he choked on his peas.

#sundrop writes #gar logan x reader #gar logan #garfield logan x reader #garfield logan #gar logan x reader x jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc titans x you #dc titans fanfiction #dc titans x reader #titans fanfiction

[piercedddriver]

Ok With It

This is a little angsty fic with the Obey Me brothers inspired by the song OK With It by Lyn Lapid

T/W: mentions of suicidal implications, Leviathan being autistic and stimming, self-starving, guilt, sexual implications in Lucifer and Asmo’s parts. Gender neutral reader (No pronouns used), PTSD, trauma response, angst

We live in other dimensions

We both saw it coming

——

Beel rolled over for the umpteenth time that night as he thought about you. Where were you? Where did you go? Did you miss him? Did you miss any of them? He sighed and rolled over again, his eyes meeting Belphegor’s.

“You okay Beel?”

Beel shook his head and hugged the plushie you had given him after a Fangol game. Belphie gave him a sad look before trudging over to his own bed.

Beel knew one day you would disappear from his life, but not now.

Not like this.

We used to sleep on our mobiles

Now we’re barely calling

——

Checking his DDD for the hundredth time he sighed, seeing no signs of hearing from you. Leaving the dining table, the brothers looked at Beel with concern. He hadn’t been eating lately and had lost a lot of weight.

Asmodeus followed him to the gym where Beel put in his headphones and listened to voicemails you had left over time. Running on the treadmill with tears streaming down his cheeks. He never had the heart to delete your messages and now he was glad didn’t. Beel watched Asmo leave from the corner of his eye, but couldn’t bring himself to care. Why should he anyways? Every time he cares about someone they leave.

First Lillith now you…

Beel shook the thoughts away and replaced them with memories of watching you fall asleep over FaceTime, ignoring the pain in his chest.

I haven’t been worried about where you’ve been

Who you’ve been talking with

——

Levi was even more shut-in than before, completely blocking out the world along with his brothers.

At first he stressed everyday over where you could’ve gone. He worried and cried until he physically became sick. It wasn’t until he woke up from a feverish haze he realized you were likely never coming back. After that, he worried less, and grieved more.

His Henry, the only one who really understood him, gone, without a single trace.

Levi stopped caring who he associated with and began to shut down. He locked himself in his room and hasn’t left since.

Lucifer, ever so diligent about the wellbeing of his brothers, would leave meals outside Levi’s door. His heart warming when he saw a clean plate the next day, but shattering when he saw the days it wasn’t moved or paid any mind to.

We’re growing dissonant

Finish line’s imminent and

Inevitably, you’ll surely forget me

——

Levi’s DDD had over a hundred missed messages from his brothers. Hell, even Diavolo tried reaching out to him, but nothing worked. Levi was spiraling. The one he could rant to, stim to, and generally just talk to was now gone. He was growing tired of the grief, tired of the pain, tired of the uncertainty.

Levi stared at the “you died” screen on his computer not even registering he died until his teammates were yelling at him through his headset. He turned off the chat and stared at the screen. Suddenly, death didn’t seem so bad anymore.. after all, surely you’d have forgotten a worthless otaku like him by now, right..?

It’s the end and I’m okay with it

Seasons shift

They’re always changing and

——

Lucifer stared at the paperwork on his desk not registering Diavolo’s voice.

“Don’t you think so Lucifer?”

What? Did he miss something?

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

Lucifer shook his head and laughed, almost humored at the situation. He finally grew to know you, to respect you, to love you. But you were gone now. When was the last time he allowed himself to be vulnerable like that? Was it.. Lillith? Maybe.. Simeon? No.. it was him it was always him. He thought looking up at the redhead at the other side of his office. Maybe.. it was time for Lucifer to let go of you. Perhaps, the feeling he felt were never meant to be after all..

We’ll be sad

Through the summer

Start again with different lovers

——

The first summer without you was hard on Lucifer. No midnight rooftop visits, no early morning coffee runs before walking through the parks. He found himself grieving more than he ever had before. Even falling from grace hadn’t affected him this badly. How many nights had he cried himself to sleep away from the prying eyes of his brothers? How many nights had he vomited at the thought of you happy with someone else? How many nights did he go to that one person for comfort.

Lucifer looked over on his bed, your side now occupied with the Devildom’s young prince.

How many nights had he tried to take the pain away through someone else? No. That was enough. It was time to move on from you for good.

Lucifer stood from his position on his side of the bed and walked over to the sleeping prince, shaking him awake gently.

“Diavolo, you need to leave before my brothers wake. They can’t know about us just yet..”

Know the thought can be menacing

Waking up when you’re not next to me

——

Mammon groaned as he stretched on his too-large bed. He had upsized it to accommodate the both of you, but now that you were gone it felt painfully empty. He rubbed his eyes trying to ignore the deep bags under them. When had he last slept well? Days? Weeks? Hell if he knew..

Nightmares plagued Mammon every night since you disappeared.

He was your first man, he was supposed to protect you, and yet, he couldn’t even save you from this unknown fate you had suffered.

Mammon looked over to the empty side of the bed and felt chills run down his spine at the thought of you being in bed with someone else. He shook it off and got up to start his day.

It’s for the best

We’ve been cavin’

It’s the end and I’m okay with it

And I’m okay with it

——

Mammon paused when he saw one of your doodles in his Devildom History notebook. He quickly tore the page out and crumpled it throwing it away. He couldn’t think of you now, not after how far he’d come with accepting your disappearance. You being gone was for the best. At least, he tried to tell himself that. He tried to ignore his already terrible grades worsening, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach whenever your name was mentioned, he tried. Really, he did. So why was it so hard?

It’s not like it matters anymore. Nobody knew where you were, and nobody cared when they saw Mammon digging through the trash looking for a certain discarded doodle.

We could be living like one day

We’ll be reunited

And promise that we’ll stay in touch

But we know we’d be lyin’

——

Satan’s wrath was unchecked, nobody dared to even come within 100 feet of him. So what if he went through millennium of anger management? It’s not like it mattered anymore. He checked his DDD everyday hoping for a sign of reconnection, only to have his efforts met with nothing. He called, texted, emailed, but to no avail. You were gone.

He was angry.

No, he was hurt.

Your promised him. You promised him you’d always be in tough no matter what happened. But you broke your promise.. and all he had left was a mere picture on his dresser.

Why be at odds with our sanity

By arguing with reality?

——

Satan was losing himself. Every day he regressed further away from who he had been and progressed towards who he was when he first was created. He was slowly going crazy.. just where where you? You were gone. He knew that, he really did. Yet, somehow he couldn’t help but sit in your room every night, holding the book you two were reading and waiting for you to come home and continue the story with him.

It’s the end and I’m okay with it

Seasons shift

They’re always changing and

——

Asmo didn’t sulk.

Asmo didn’t cry.

Asmo didn’t show any signs of grief. Anyone who didn’t know him would say you meant nothing to him.. only those close to him saw the impact you left. “Those” mainly being Solomon. Solomon saw it, he felt it, he’ll, he even heard it. But through everything, he said nothing. He couldn’t. He couldn’t risk changing the future, not even for Asmodeus.

We’ll be sad

Through the summer

Start again with different lovers

——

It was hard to notice Asmo’s slight changes. In fact, Lucifer was the only to notice for a long time. Lucifer was the only to notice the small eye bags, the lessened amount of makeup, the chipped nail polish. It was Lucifer who heard Asmo crying himself to sleep at night, and Lucifer who comforted his younger brother when things got too painful to handle alone. Thus, Asmodeus followed his brother’s example. He let his sin get ahold of him and began spending nights with strangers to chase away the ache in his heart.

Know the thought can be menacing

Waking up when you’re not next to me

——

Belphie yawned and sat up after a long nap. His stomach cramped and he winced. When had he last eaten? It didn’t matter..

He looked over at him twin who was sleeping with tears staining his cheeks and ginger hair matted to his head. Belphie smiled, knowing this is the first night of sleep Beel had gotten in weeks, but internally sobbed at the loss of you not being there to fall asleep with them. He hated humans. Hated them.

He told himself that for millennia, but then you came along.. And, oh.. Oh how he loved you. At first he told himself that if he trusted humans he would be betraying Lillith, and Lillith was very dear to him. But dearer than you..?

No.. not even close.

It’s for the best

We’ve been cavin’

It’s the end and I’m okay with it

And I’m okay with it

——

Months went by and Belphie convinced himself he was fine.

Sleepless nights weren’t caused by you.. of course not. His pillow wasn’t cold enough, that’s all. The nightmares..? Trauma response from Lucifer. It was all Lucifer’s fault. Lucifer should’ve protected you. Lucifer failed you, not him.

Not him.

Then again… he killed you before. Right? What if he did it again? What if… this was for the best? He couldn’t hurt you anymore. No one could.

Belphie told himself this every night, and yet, he still wished you were there with him.

@l3viat8an @obeymeluv @obeymeimaginesandasks @asmosmainhoe

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me boys #nightbringer #obey me nightbringer #diavolo obey me #nightbringer diavolo #obey me diavolo #lucifer obey me #lucifer avatar of pride #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #om lucifer #lucifer #asmodeus x male reader #obey me asmodeus #om! asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #asmo obey me #leviathan x male reader #levi x reader #leviathan #leviathan obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #angst #om! angst #obey me angst #obey me mc

[readers-cup-of-tea]

When They realize they love you.

Showcases Harry, Draco, Ron, Neville, Luna, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Severus, and Tom. 

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pronouns: gender neutral

TW: Some light cursing(??) mentions of getting injured.

When they realized they loved you

Harry Potter

After a quidditch game, Harry is one of the best seekers Hogwarts had ever seen, so naturally he’d win the end game of the year! As he caught the Golden snitch everyone around him erupted in chaos as people cheered and screamed. 

The Gryffindor team immediately lowered their brooms to the ground as victory seeped in.

An hour later Harry made his way to the common room, as he entered his dorm there was a breakout of praise and song as they basked in another year of glory.

Harry made his way over to you, Ron, and Hermione. But was pushed back when you ran at him full speed and roped him into a hug.

As he hugged you back a blush blossomed onto his cheeks.

He could definitely get used to that.

Draco Malfoy

During a late night talk, It was nearing 3 Am and you and Draco laid on his bed, You’d been up for ages it seemed as the two of you talked about nothing in particular.

The topic had landed on your alls grades as you vented about hoe Snape had failed you on the last quiz,

“I just don’t understand how you can do so well in his class! It’s impossible” You exclaimed.

“Oh Y/n, don’t you know? I’m too good to fail.” He smirked at you.

You stared at each other for a second before you burst into a fit of laughter, 

As Draco stared at your laughing face his heart skipped a beat.

Even if life wasn’t great sometimes, you really made it better.

Ron Weasley

When he’s jealous, A burning feeling blazed in his chest as he saw Hermione and Krum at the dance. How dare she! After all he and Harry had done for her? And she goes and makes friends with the enemy?

He huffed himself further into his seat as Harry left him to go get some punch.

A shadow loomed over him, making him look up, Staring into the face of Y/n.

“Hey Ron, Are you doing alright?” You said, taking a seat where Harry had been.

“Yeah, I’m fine- This night has turned out to be right bollocks though.” He crossed his arms further.

“Well…I already talked to Harry and he said that it’d be okay if we wanted to get out of here.”

Ron quickly looked over towards you, “Get out of here? Yeah, cmon, let's do it.”

He led you out of the dining hall and outside into the courtyard, As you two stood under the moonlight, Ron only had one thought.

He had never seen someone more beautiful than you in his life.

Neville Longbottom

While hanging out in the greenhouses, “And this one is called a venomous tentacula- It’s something used in potions quite frequently, but very dangerous. So please be careful!” 

Neville went through each of the plants, telling you what they did and how they grew, as he ranted to you, he looked up to see you staring at him lovingly.

He stuttered his way through the next three plants as he blushed harder than a Weasley.

He never realized before how nicely your eyes lit up when he started to speak, well, he could get used to that.

Luna Lovegood

Patching her up after she got hurt, Most thestrals were loving creatures, honestly! But like any other animal, they did get hostile.

Luna just so happened to catch one of the thestrals while they were in a bad mood.

You rushed to the Ravenclaw common room as soon as you heard what had happened.

Answering the riddle, you entered the dorm, looking around for Luna.

“Oh hello, Y/n” Luna smiled serenely from one of the navy couches.

“Luna! Oh, are you okay? I heard you got quite the nasty scratch from a thestral.

“Hmm? Oh, yes I did.” She showed you a red mark on her forearm.

Pulling gauze out of your bag, you sat down next to her and gently grabbed her arm and started to patch her up.

Looking at you while you worked your magic made her feel a sense of calm, how strange.

Hermione Granger

Helping you with homework, The two of you had been in the library for hours now as Hermione tried and failed to help you wrap your head around a spell for charms class

As Hermione pointed towards one of the many books she had gathered she showed you the motions to mimic.

”Ok, Y/n, Now you try.”

As you moved your wand a blue luminance came out, you had finally done it!

“Yes! You did it!” Hermione cheered before quieting down with an embarrassed look.

The smile you gave her was as bright as the morning sun in Hermione's eyes.

Why is her heart beating so fast now?

Remus Lupin (young)

Chilling by the Black Lake, You laid in the soft grass as the sun started to set, you had been reading a muggle story to Remus as he laid his head in your lap.

“And they all lived happily ever after, The End.” You slipped the book closed and looked down at him.

“So, whaddya think?” 

Remus smiled up at you, “I loved it. Your voice is so soothing to listen to.”

You blushed and looked away, “Only because I have such a good listener.”

Now it was his turn to smile as you looked on smugly.

He all the sudden shifted and tackled you onto the ground, You laughed as you playfully fought against him.

Remus had never felt so…peaceful in his life.

Sirius Black (Young)

Helping him pull a prank,  “hahah! I cannot believe James let us use the cloak! Oh this is gonna be amazing!” Sirius whispered to you as he hid you both under the invisibility cloak.

You giggled along with him as you two played out your plan, to finally prank Remus!

“Alright here's the plan, we sneak up behind him, you cast Rictumsempra (tickling charm), and then I'll tackle him from behind! It’s genius!”

As you sneaked up on Remus you silently cast the spell, The werewolf started to laugh and dropped the book he was reading,

Sirius sprang out of the cloak and pulled Remus down to the ground.

“You win! You win!” Remus laughed as Sirius started to roughhouse him.

“Whoo! 50 points to Sirius!” Sirius raised both arms into the air as you revealed yourself from the cloak.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed as Sirius celebrated with you.

He never wanted this to end.

Severus Snape (young)

Stopping Potter and his gang from bullying him, “Snivellus! You can’t hide from us forever!” James called out as he and the marauders stalked towards Severus.

“Not today Potter! Leave me alone!” Severus yelled back as he tried to get away from the other boys.

“Hey Potter! Didn’t you hear him!? Leave him alone you insufferable twat!” You fumed at james and his friends.

Severus stared at you in awe as James sheepishly apologized to you before shooting him a nasty glare.

You turned towards him and asked if he was okay, he just nodded.

“Cmon Sev, Let’s go and get something to drink, yeah?” 

“Okay, yeah.” 

You led him to the Hogwarts kitchens and had the house elves prepare them tea.

As you talked to him and made him laugh he could forget Potter and his friends.

Tom Riddle

When It’s the last day of school, The train would be here any second now, another year at Hogwarts over, another summer back at Wools. 

His bitter thoughts lessened when you walked up to him, “Hey Tom.” You said softly.

“Hello.”

“I hope you enjoy your summer, I’ll admit I’m gonna miss you.” You nudged his shoulder.

He looked at you, “Oh please, L/n, Don’t get all sappy on me now. He brushed you off but paused when he heard a sniffle.

Watery eyes looked at him, You really did care for him, didn’t you?

Without another word he pulled you into an embrace, It was just for the summer, He wasn’t leaving you just yet.

But under all his biting remarks and thoughts, Tom really was going to miss you.

Thank you so much for reading! If you want to see more then my requests are open!

Ao3: JanusAndHyde

#Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #draco x reader #ron x reader #neville x reader #luna x reader #hermione x reader #remus x reader #sirius x reader #severus x reader #tom riddle x reader #xreader #hp headcanon #harry potter headcanon

[specialagentlokitty]

Carol Danvers x teen!reader - be yourself

Hi! Can I ask for familial figure Carol Danvers story please where Reader is non-binary, and their family is very phobic to queer stuff, and so R runs away and Carol takes them in? - Anon💜

TW: mentions of unaccepting family

Standing in your living room, you took a look at your parents and you took a small breath.

“I uh.. I just wanted to tell you guys something…” you said quietly.

You mom smiled at you.

“Of course, what is it?”

Taking a deeper breath, you glanced away, running a hand up and down your arm nervously.

“I’m non binary…”

“Huh?” Your dad said.

Both of them sat up, looking at you sternly, and you subconsciously took a step back from them.

“I’m non binary… I Uhm… I don’t really feel like I identify as male or female… like they just don’t feel right…”

“Get that shit out of your head.” Your dad snapped.

You snapped your gaze to him in pure shock.

“There is no such thing! You were born as what you are so that’s what you are! You can’t change that!” Your mom yelled.

You felt tears burning your eyes as you listened to them go on and on about how it wasn’t right, how none of it was right and that you needed to see a doctor.

You stood for what felt like forever listening to them until you turned around, just leaving the room.

You slammed your door shut, and sank down against it as you cried.

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you were hoping for, but it definitely wasn’t that. Maybe some confusion, but you never expected to hear such harsh things from your own parents.

When you came down for dinner they kept going on and on about it, glaring at you and making sure to use the wrong pronouns when talking about you.

You thought maybe it would get better but it never did, and after nearly a week of this, being forced to see a doctor, and the constant harsh things they would say, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You packed a bag and you left in the dead of night, running down the street, running as far as you could until you could find a bus out of town.

Then you got on that, not thinking anything through, where to go or what to do.

It was how you found yourself in an unknown city, living on the streets.

It wasn’t easy, but at least this way you didn’t have to listen to them anymore.

You could get by enough from helpful strangers who gave you money, and sometimes you would join with local homeless teenagers who would meet up in the park just to play games or talk.

You were making your way down to the homeless shelter for something to eat when you all but walked into somebody.

“Oh I’m really sorry!” You rushed out.

“That’s alright, are you okay?” She asked.

Looking up, you took a step back, nodding your head.

Of course you would recognise such a hero as soon as you saw her, Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel, everybody knew who she was.

“Yes, thank you? Are you? I swear I didn’t take anything from you, I’ll wait here while you check.”

Carol frowned a little bit.

“Why would I think you’d take something?”

You gave a small shrug.

“Most people do. I’m really sorry I’ve got to go, the kitchen at the shelter closes soon!”

With a small smile you ran past her, and Carol watched as you left.

You didn’t think you’d ever see her again until one evening she wondered upon you camping in a construction site, and she walked over.

“Hey, it’s dangerous you know.”

“Huh?”

You turned around.

“Sorry, I’ll go. I just thought it would be safer here.”

“Hey, hey wait a minute kid.”

You stopped walking, letting her jog over.

“I saw you come in here last night too, are you sleeping here?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“It’s cold, and it’s not safe for you to be out in the streets. I can take you home.”

“No! Don’t take me home!” You pleaded.

Carol raised her hands, quickly nodding her head.

“Alright, okay. We won’t go there, but I don’t feel right leaving you here, can I at least take you somewhere else for the night?”

You shook your head.

“All the shelters are full up, I gave my spot to a boy a little younger than me…”

“Okay, maybe a hotel or something?”

“No money and they won’t take me cause I’m all covered in dirt and stuff…”

“Alright, how about we just go for a walk, yeah? You know who I am right? You know I wouldn’t hurt you?”

You nodded your head, trailing after her as she led you back to the street, and you began to slowly walk around.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“(Y/N).”

“How old are you?”

“(Y/A).”

She looked at you.

“You’re so young… why are you out here (Y/N)? Where’s your family?”

You frowned, turning away from her.

“Don’t know, don’t care… disowned me…”

“What? Why? You don’t seem like the kind of kid who would do anything so bad to be disowned.”

“Non binary…”

“Oh wow really? I know loads of non binary people! They’re all so friendly and always so happy! You know on some other planets that how they’re raised, as non binary, and they can decide later if they want to stay as non binary, or change that.”

You looked up at her.

“Woah, really? And nobody cares?”

Carol smiled, shaking her head.

“Nope, totally normal. I’m sorry that your parents can’t accept that.”

You shrugged a little bit, looking back down at your feet as you clutched the straps on your bag.

“That’s life…”

“Yeah but it shouldn’t have to be, there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s more normal than people think.”

Carol took you to get some proper food, and she spent the whole night searching for somewhere for you to stay until she came across a small motel who thankfully had a spare room.

She snuck you in, and handed you the key to the room.

“Here, I’ll come back with some clean clothes and stuff for you, don’t open the door unless you know it’s me okay?”

You nodded your head, locking the door after her.

You didn’t know why this big time superhero was looking after you, but you were thankful for it.

When she came back, you managed to get a shower, and you sat in front of her as she brushed and cut your hair for you.

“What’s it like travelling space?” You asked.

Carol smiled, telling you about it, what she did and things she had seen, and you sat there fascinated.

She kept coming back, bringing you more and more things for the next two weeks until finally she stood in front of you.

“I’m sorry I have to go.” She sighed.

“It’s okay, it was really nice to meet you, I hope you stay safe.”

“Will you stay safe?” She asked.

You gave a small shrug, giving her a little grin.

“The best I can.”

She nodded her head, heading towards the door, but she didn’t walk out, instead she turned around to look at you.

“Ever thought about travelling space?”

“Ever since I watched doctor who, they made it look so cool!”

This made her laugh, and she opened the door, holding her arm out to you.

“Come on then.”

“Seriously? You don’t even know me.”

“Yeah I do, come on, I could use the company and Fury is always telling me to get a friend to travel with me.”

You grinned from ear to ear, grabbing your bags as you ran over to her.

You were practically bursting with excitement and Carol just watched you with a gentle smile.

In a way you reminded her of when she was younger, people telling her who she could and couldn’t be, and you had chose to be who you were, and she found that amazing.

She was proud of that, she was proud of everybody who chose to be themselves despite what people said, and she was going to take you from the streets and give you the love and respect you should’ve had in the first place, be the parent you should’ve had in the first place

#marvel #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #Carol Danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x you #Carol Danvers imagine #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel x you #captain marvel imagine

[lazyalani]

Blue Lock Boys As Songs

{Pt. 2}

| Blue Lock Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

•Part 1 (Itoshi Sae, Itoshi Rin, Mikage Reo)

Ft. Michael Kaiser, Bachira Meguru, Chigiri Hyoma

Written mostly from the characters' thoughts.

Written from my opinions.

Gender Neutral, no pronouns used or mentioned.

Lyrics connected to the "storyline" are written.

•Michael Kaiser

"And All I Wanna Do Is To Fall In Deep."

"Oh Baby Look What You Started."

"Been Waiting And Waiting For You To Make A Move."

"A Little Bit Dangerous.

But Baby That's How I Want It."

"'Cause I'm So Into You, Into You, Into You."

"Got Everyone Watching Us."

"A Little Bit Scandalous."

It's really no secret that Michael Kaiser is a charming man. It's not that he openly seduces people or anything, it's just that he has this natural aura around him that lures you in. Oh he knows he's fuckin' handsome.

Michael first laid his eyes on you at a Football stadium, you were wearing a jersey jacket with his jersey number and surname, he saw it as you turned around to listen to who he assumed is a friend of yours, leaning in closely due to the loud cheers.

And boy, how he was so allured with how you stared back at him and smiled, looking at him with those eyes that tell him how exactly handsome he was. Something about you lured him back.

Kaiser was not one who was interested in the people who adore him. He doesn't really care to check who follows him, or who likes his posts, but as soon as he posted a picture, the first one who liked it definitely caught his eye. The girl on the profile picture was the same girl who had caught his eye during the game.

Kaiser didn't really bother with keeping your relationship a secret, but nor did he confirm it. His fans and the media just found out throught his random postings and stories. He likes to randomly just post a picture of you two and tag you or tweet matching lines with you.

Another thing is that Kaiser is a hard man to please and interest, so when he gets interested, he's never letting go. Oh, and what do you know, he's taking you with him to another country. He definitely does not like being away from his significant other. If he has to go to another country to play, he's taking you with him. It's urgent and sudden? No problem, he'll have an alternative way and plan for your other plans or activities so just go with him. You haven't packed yet? Don't worry, everything you need can be bought, he's filthy rich. You're worrying about getting bored when he's at practice or somewhere? Nah, you'll have his card, go shopping or something.

Being Michael Kaiser's significant other was a lot of things, but boring will never be part of it. He never forgets to show that he cares. Morning? Oh he memorizes the time you're probably awake based on the time you went to sleep and calls you to say "Goodmorning, darlin'." and "Don't forget to eat breakfast.", taking a break if ever he's in a morning practice. Afternoon? He calls you again and asks if you've eaten lunch and probably talks about new recruits being dumb shits or something. Evening? He comes home to you, craving your hugs, cuddling with you before bed, with you laying on top of him while he sits up, wearing his glasses and reading a book.

He loves it when you stare at him when he's wearing his glasses. He purposely wears them more often just to see how you stare at him. He also probably reads to you on your bad days, saying how he'll definitely make you feel better so just listen to his voice and stare at his face, he never forgets his glasses.

"Love you to my victories and back."

•Chigiri Hyoma

"Faster Than The Wind,

Passionate As Sin,

Ended So Suddenly."

"Like The Colors In Autumn So Bright Just Before They Lose It All."

"Losing Him Was Blue."

"Missing Him Was Dark Grey."

"Forgetting Him Was Like Trying To Know Somebody You've Never Met."

"Loving Him Was Red."

"Regretting Him Was Like Wishing You Never Found Out That Love Could Be That Strong."

"Burning Red."

"Darlin' It Was Red"

Loving Chigiri Hyoma is heartwrenching.

(Ended So Suddenly)

The first time he broke your heart was when he fell down during THAT game. As the burning pain dawned at him, his eyes locked with you and he instantly knew you were both thinking the same thing. The sound of people gasping and the footsteos of his teammates towards him were tuned out as the only thing he was aware of was the pain on his knee and the horrified expression on your face. You were heartbroken for him.

(Losing Him Was Blue)

The second time he broke your heart was when he (unsurely) finally ended things with you. He tell you the truth, that he couldn't bear to see you hurt because of him. He couldn't bear to see you break because he does and says things he didn't mean. He breaks it off because he knows he's trying, but it's not enough. He breaks it off because the constant pain he burdens, physically and emotionally, holds him back from loving you to the fullest again. He breaks it off because he does not want to see you cry for and because of him. He breaks it off because he knows he will just break you. He breaks it off so he doesn't infect you with his toxic wind. He breaks it off because he thinks he won't ever be good enough for you again. He breaks it off because he's insecure.

He breaks your heart because he loves you.

(Missing Him Was Dark Grey)

Chigiri Hyoma is confused. Unsure. Angry. Sad. Traumatized. Insecure.

(Loving Him Was Red)

He sees you again at the bleachers with his mother and sister, and his heart that has always been beating for you, beats louder. His heart beats when you smile at him all teary, sincere, and no grudge. His heart beats when you curtsied towards him just like how you did before. His heart beats when you mouthed him a goodluck. His heart beats when he nervously apologizes and explains to you. His heart beats when you say everything's fine now and you forgive him. His heart beats when he asks for both of you to start over again. His heart beats when you said yes. His heart beats when he talks about you to his friends. His heart beats whenever he sees your name on his phone. His heart beats louder whenever he sees you. His heart almost leaps out of his chest when you say you love him.

Hyoma is like a flaming red fire, dangerous, hot, fast, warm.

(Burning Red)

Your heart beats when you see the color red.

(Darlin' It Was Red)

Chigiri Hyoma is wise. Sure. Calm. Happy. Healing. Assured.

•Bachira Meguru

"It's Blue, The Feeling I've Got

And It's Ooh, Whoa, Oh"

"It's Cool, That's What I Tell 'Em"

"No Rules In Breakable Heaven"

"It's A Cruel Summer

With You"

"Said 'I'm Fine' But It Wasn't True"

"And I Snucked In Through The Garden Gate"

"And I Screamed For Whatever It's Worth"

"'I Love You' Ain't That The Worst Thing You've Ever Heard?"

"He Looks Up Grinning Like A Devil"

"It's New"

Loving Bachira Meguru was young, free, peaceful, and warm.

Meguru was a lonely kid, thus, he learned how to have fun by himself (and his monster). It's not like he didn't feel lonely or didn't care that he didn't have any friends, it's just that he didn't care enough to let it get to him. He wanted a friend he can share his fun with. Someone that could keep up with his enthusiasm with things.

He likes to spend his summer playing soccer in large, greeny, spaces.

You just so happen to be there, staring at the peaceful skies, listening to whatever was playing in your earphones, and laying on the grass. He is confused, whether you're sleeping or resting your eyes, but he wants to play so either way he still goes up to you and asks you to move so he doesn't hit you when he plays.

It's New. He thinks as he feels you watch as he plays. It's New. You don't stare at him like he's a weirdo.

It's New. You think as you watched him play with genuine happiness. It's New. You see someone who's so free. Not tainted by the darkness of being caged by the world.

"Wanna play with me?" He tests.

"I don't know how."

"I can be a great coach!"

You were decent, courtesy of Meguru. You weren't what he really wanted but he finds himself really enjoying playing with you. All because no matter how much you couldn't keep up with him, you didn't leave. You rest, but you don't leave, and that's enough for him to stick around too.

He decides he wants to get to know you.

The two of you meet up again the next day, same time, same place, same game, same talking, and same actions. The same routine goes on and on and he finds himself invested to you.

Until summer ended.

He came back to the same place at the same time, but you weren't there. He waited and he played. He took a nap and waited. It was night, you never showed up. He wasn't one to be a pessimist, so he thinks something just came up. And so he went back the next day, same time, same place. He waited an extra hour into the night, but you still didn't show up. Meguru tells himself if you don't show up the next three days, he'll stop hoping.

And you never showed up.

He was dissapointed, a bit sad too. He had thought he could finally make a long time friend. He didn't understand why you didn't show up anymore. Both of you have never even fought before. Little bickerings over food, yes, but no fightings or arguements. He thinks you weren't pretending too, he's pretty sure both of you genuinely enjoyed each others company, so he didn't really think much of it, nor did he harbor any ill feelings. He's just upset you didn't tell him anything.

He keeps playing the same place at the same time, but this time not expecting anyone anymore. He goes back to the routine of playing with just his monster. He admits, he does miss your presence. He's still upset that you left, you were his first almost long term friend, afterall. He finds himself thinking back to that summer when you were there, and felling happy but sad at the same time. It was a new feeling, he never got this sad before. Whenever he thinks back, it does come up to his mind that maybe he might've done something wrong and he just never noticed. Or maybe you noticed how he glances to random directions and smile at his monster and got weirded out too. He smiles bitterly when he realizes he got attached to you at such a short time, and that's why he's feeling so blue.

Oh, what a Cruel Summer to think back to indeed.

And then summer came again.

He comes up the field, expecting the same warm wind and empty but peaceful scenery when he notices someone sitting on the grass. He stops on his tracks when he recognizes the same back, same clothes, and same hair of his old friend.

"You're back."

You turn around to greet him, letting out a sheepish and apologetic smile. "I am."

"Sorry? Or back?"

"Erm.. Both, Chi-kun, I can explain, I promise!"

He makes this upset, pouty face and sighs. "You sound like a caught cheating girlfriend and eventhough I should be more upset, fine. Only because I'm being nice." Nah, he just definitely misses you, but he wants to keep teasing you for the time being, could be a punishment for leaving without an explanation.

You explain to him that your parents don't allow you to go out during school times. How they're very strict and how you feel very caged. And he tells you how you got him really upset and that you're his first friend. It makes him feel a lot better when you tell him he's your first friend too. The same routine with you comes running back like a ball being passed.

Meguru finds himself letting you in more and more.

And you do too.

He gets a little nervous when he tells you about his monster the first time, and was really happy when you laugh it off and says who are you to judge someone who enjoys doing the things they really want. He tells you about how he got so used to being left alone that he doesn't mind it anymore and tickles you as revenge when you tease him about getting sad when you left. He smiles impossibly wider when you tell him you felt caged because of how controlling your parents are and feel free around him. He feels the same feeling when he sees the same smile on your face. He laughs it off when you tell him sorry in advance when summer ends and tells you he'll take care of it.

He giggles at your dumbfounded face when you see him at your garden, he threw a little rock on your window to get your attention. You frantically ask him how the hell he got in and he giggles a little louder, making you shush his mouth.

"I snuck in through the garden gate!"

You feel your blood pressure rising but you couldn't stop the smile and laugh from getting out.

The same routine, same places, same times, same actions, and same smiles continous to go on. Though with the constant interruptions, you both learned how to adapt your routine to the new events.

Not even blue lock could break the same routine you've both had for years.

You learned he got bolder after the U-20 vs. Blue Lock match.

"Ah, I missed you so much. I guess I really do love you!" He grins.

Looks like both of you are going to have changes in your routines again.

______________________

I think I enjoyed writing Bachira's part a little too much hehe. Here's part 2, though! Sorry for the wait, exams are coming up .×.

Who else is excited for Chapter 215? (≧∇≦)/

#blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock #chigiri hyoma #blue lock chigiri #chigiri hyoma x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #bllk bachira #bachira meguru #bachira meguru x reader #bllk fluff #blue lock angst