Tumgik
#hell she'd do it just for protection
tired-fandom-ndn · 11 months
Text
Look if my PC could become Bailey's pretty little housewife in exchange for her debt being waived and protection from the town's other monsters, she would do it in a heartbeat.
49 notes · View notes
crown-ov-horns · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Now that I started writing Hellfire, this gifset makes me think of Cordelia and Lucy...
Lucy's nature is the same as her father's (though, she wouldn't be referred to as the Antichrist until Michael retires or dies). Her powers are dark, destructive and hardly measurable. Even as a young adult, they may be difficult to control, especially in a rage, or some other emotional outburst.
I can easily imagine Cordelia cradling her in a sea of bodies.
"I don't know what happened... Mommy, I didn't mean to-..."
"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay."
She has always been hard on Lucy, knowing her violent tendencies must be curbed. The world might not survive otherwise... But, in the end, no matter how much blood she spills, nor what she renders to ash, Cordelia will always protect her daughter.
Question is, whether Lucy's wrath was deserved or not.
12 notes · View notes
dvilborn · 2 months
Text
thinking much. again. about the fact charlie used to go out and help on extermination day. street to street trying to help the injured but not dead.
5 notes · View notes
joycrispy · 8 months
Text
Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:
Tumblr media
This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...
It. It kind of fucks. Severely.
And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.
I'll explain:
As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.
Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.
(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)
Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:
"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV
Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.
(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.
...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)
So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.
But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:
The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.
Do you understand?
The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.
The flaming sword was given to be used against them.
So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.
That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.
...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.
They're Crowley and Aziraphale.
(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)
In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.
It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.
...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.
And the Serpent--
(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)
--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.
As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:
"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll
The first to ask questions.
Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).
And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.
And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--
(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)
--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.
To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.
Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.
It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.
And then you keep writing.
And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.
(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).
It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)
...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:
Tumblr media
I love this shot so much.
Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.
You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.
"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.
But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.
Godfathers. Sort of.
26K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 7 months
Text
Little Angel
Tumblr media
Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader
Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+
Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.
Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.
A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️
Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 
The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 
Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 
And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 
You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 
"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 
Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 
It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 
"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 
The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 
"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 
"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 
"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 
"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 
"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 
"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 
It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 
A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 
"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 
"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 
"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 
"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 
"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 
"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  
Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 
"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 
"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 
"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 
"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 
"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 
"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 
The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 
"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 
But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 
"Nowhere." 
The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 
"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 
"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 
Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 
Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.
The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 
The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 
You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 
He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 
After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 
Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 
"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 
"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 
"Okay, so she's not interested."
"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 
"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 
"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 
"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 
" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."
"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 
Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 
The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 
Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 
You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 
"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 
"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 
You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 
"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 
"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."
He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 
"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 
You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 
You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 
With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 
You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 
The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 
He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 
"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 
He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 
"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 
"I'm okay." 
"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 
You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 
"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 
"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 
"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 
"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 
"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 
"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 
You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 
"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 
"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 
Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 
"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 
"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 
"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 
"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 
"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 
"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 
"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 
"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 
"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 
His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 
You'd never felt like this before. 
He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 
"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 
"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."
Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 
"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 
"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 
"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 
His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 
"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 
His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 
Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 
"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 
"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 
"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 
"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 
He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 
You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 
He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 
He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 
He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 
"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 
When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 
"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 
He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 
"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 
He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 
"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 
You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 
"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 
"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 
"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 
"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 
"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 
You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 
"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 
"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 
"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 
"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 
"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 
"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 
"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 
You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 
He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 
"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 
"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."
"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 
"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 
"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 
Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 
It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 
"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 
"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 
You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 
"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 
"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 
His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 
He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 
Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 
He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 
"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 
You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 
You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 
Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 
Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 
"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 
You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 
You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 
"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 
"Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 
You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 
"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 
"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 
"No, not until you tell me why you left." 
"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 
He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 
"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 
Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 
"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 
Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"
"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 
You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 
"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  
8K notes · View notes
fellthemarvelous · 2 months
Text
Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?
Tumblr media
Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.
Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.
He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.
Tumblr media
Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.
He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.
Tumblr media
He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.
And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.
Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.
Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.
Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.
Instead he watches.
He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.
Tumblr media
He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.
He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.
The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.
Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.
Tumblr media
That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.
Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.
It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.
Tumblr media
As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.
Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.
He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.
Tumblr media
It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.
Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.
And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.
Tumblr media
To shades of grey.
968 notes · View notes
vampiresbloodx · 5 days
Text
pairings: Wanda maximoff x Reader
warnings(18+ ONLY): legal age gap, Wanda's in her forties and reader is in their twenties, I try not to use specific gender for reader as I want everyone to enjoy but for smut I will use proper tag, oral s*x (r!receiving), top!Wanda, jealous Wanda, weird creepy guy(ew).
part 1, part 2, part 3.
Older!Librarian!Wanda getting jealous when anyone flirts with you, has their hands on you a bit too long for her liking.
She knows she's possessive, maybe even a little bit obsessive. Everyone should know you're hers and only hers. Even if she has to put a collar on it with her name.
Wanda wasn't always the jealous type, as she claims. Ever since you officially called her your girlfriend, she's been more protective, something changed in her that she couldn't quite understand.
She's still getting used to all this, it's way different than how she's used to it being, back in her day. Now she's got you by her side, you were just so damn pretty, she couldn't believe she's lucky enough to have you.
When she takes you out for your weekly dates, of course, shed not too surprised when someone comes up and tries to ask you for your number or compliments you, she doesn't blame them. She too would be in their shoes if she saw you.
A guy comes up to you, immediately, her grip tightens around your hand, pulling you in closer to her body, she can't help it. She needs you close. He's a waitress at the restaurant she's taken you too, he's being a bit too friendly, you didn't seem to notice, you're sweet, but Wanda has noticed you can be naive.
Naive to the point where you think the waitress was just being nice.
No.
Wanda wasn't stupid.
She glared daggers at him the entire time he was taking forever to take both of your orders, purposely ignoring her presence just to talk to you, when his hand touched yours, she saw you flinch away, laughing awkwardly, Wanda raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to continue, if he knew what's best for him.
He got the message as soon as she placed her hand on top of yours, and brought it to her lips, kissing your knuckles, enjoying how flustered you got.
She had already lost her appetite. The only thing she wanted was you.
She abruptly got up, ignoring the waitress as she was too annoyed to acknowledge anyone else but you. She grabbed your hand, forcing you to follow her as she pulled you into the bathrooms, locking the door behind you.
"Wanda? What's wrong? Are you-"
She cut you off by pressing your body against the wall, staring at you as her eyes go dark, you seem to get the message, not backing away as the aching in between your legs grew, more desperate for her.
She smirked, lips meeting yours to shut out the noises, though as much as she'd love for everyone to hear you scream her name as she makes you come, this is for her only.
Wanda got on her knees, staring at you the entire time she did so, making sure you were looking only at her, her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn't sure what overcame, why this feeling was so intense. She knew she was going to have to bring it up later.
But for now, she wanted to taste you, it would be better than anything this restaurant could ever provide anyways.
She has your mouth stuffed with your panties, wanting to know just how soaking wet you are for her and she's just started. Wanda expertly licks up your cunt, inserting a finger inside your tight hole, god, no matter how many times she fucks it she still can't get over how it clenches around her.
She feels you squirming, she loves it. Wanda doesn't look away and neither do you. It's a lot. She can feel it.
You come into her mouth, wetness pooling in, some of it dripping onto her chin, your cheeks burned at the sight as she pulls your panties out of your mouth, leaving you breathless.
"fucking hell" you muttered, slumping against the wall.
She grinned, pleased, licking her lips.
Then you say the words she was looking to hear.
"can we skip dinner please? I want you."
491 notes · View notes
gglitch1dd · 5 days
Text
Anger and Misunderstandings Pt2 of 2
DILF Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
Tumblr media
Context: An anon had asked me what if we had Angry Dilf Izuku but one of his kids disrespected reader, like what happened with angry Dilf Katsuki. Sorry for losing your question Anon.
[PART 1 OF 2] [Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]
This was a very interesting one to write considering the fact that Izuku grew up with basically a single mother and we’ve never seen him seriously punish the boys..
Note: Disrespect, previous arguments, angst, effects of bullying and feeling left out. Happy ending.
"YOU SAID WHAT TO MOM AND DAD?!"
Asahi winced as he sighed. He put his head in his hands. "I know."
"No I think you DON'T know." Toshinori emphasised as he stood in front of his younger brother, Kane at his side, standing as a mediator with his hands in his pockets. The blond teenager was also surprised by the events that Asahi had just expressed. Toshinori sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "And this is why we need to start beating kids again." Kane let out a humoured scoff. "And you've been here how long?"
They sat in their grandmother's apartment, Inko having gone out to buy groceries. Asahi lifted his head up to look at his brother. "A week." He revealed. "Mom came to pick me up Sunday night but I told Obaasan that I wanted to stay with her for longer so she told mom she'd look after me."
Toshinori nodded. "Okay, that might be the smartest thing you did in the past three months." He answered. Toshinori put his hands together. "Forgive me brother, but I have to be blunt with you." He warned as he took a step forward closer to his brother. He took off his slipper and raised it. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING!?" He swatted his brother in the head with his slipper.
"OW!" Asahi raised his arms to protect himself from his antics.
"WHO THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE TALKING TO!? YOU SWORE AT MOM!? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?! AND HOW THE HELL COULD YOU SAY THAT TO DAD!! FOR THE SMARTEST KID I KNOW YOU SURE DO STUPID THINGS! YOU DUFUS!" Toshinori shouted as he swatted his brother with his slipper hard.
"OW! CAN YOU CUT IT OUT!"
"DID YOU CUT IT OUT WHEN MOM ASKED YOU TO!? NO!" Toshinori shouted back at him with a pointed look. "IF MOM AND DAD WON'T BEAT YOUR ASS, I'LL DO IT FOR THEM!"
"OW! THAT'S NOT FAIR! YOU HAVE ONE FOR ALL, YOU CAN KILL ME YOU KNOW!"
Toshinori scoffed as he slapped his brother on the back side of the head. "Mom and dad won't mind! They can always just make another son!" He shouted.
Kane let it happen for a few seconds, feeling that it was rightfully deserved. You were the closest thing to a mother to him, and so rightfully so, he thought Asahi deserved a good beating, but maybe that was the Bakugou in him talking. "Alright Toshinori. The little shit gets the drift." He stated putting a hand to Toshinori's shoulder.
Toshinori huffed as he stopped his assault on his brother, putting down his slipper and slipping it back onto his foot. Asahi carefully lowered his arms, seeing that he was in the clear. He put back on his glasses with a frown at having to undergo such assault
Toshinori scowled down at his brother in disappointment. "What possessed you to speak to mom that way?" He asked lowly. "She does nothing but give her everything for us. She devouts her entire life to her sons and here you are treating her like trash." Asahi looked down away from his brother swallowing down the heavy pill as he fought back tears. "And I don't think you understand just how goddamn lucky you are."
Asahi paused as he flicked his gaze up to his seventeen year old brother. His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"Asahi." Toshinori let out a breath. He tried to find the words for it. "I don't think you understand just how much dad loves mom." He tried to explain to his younger brother. "Now don't get me wrong, dad loves us to bits. He'd do anything for us. But dad is the terrifying ability to cut off all emotions when it comes to certain people and Uncle Kacchan and our grandfather were two of those people." He listed on two of his fingers, Kane nodding in agreement. "Dad arguably loves mom more than he loves us. Who can blame him? Dad has known mom for over two decades but he is just getting to know you and who you are becoming. Honestly, I expected a harsher punishment than just 'go stay at grandmas' but I think we both know that that's even more painful."
Asahi looked away from Toshinori not wanting to aknowledge it. Half of Asahi wished that you and his father had just done something, anything else, but send him away was another sort of pain he wasn't sure how to digest. That his dad couldn't bring himself to be around him for a day because of the things he said, it was a terrifying realisation.
Toshinori sighed as his shoulders dropped. "Now tell me why on earth did you disrespect mom." His younger brother didn't answer immediately. "Boy, I will pick up my slipper and-"
"Because it's not fair!" Asahi burst out.
Kane's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Huh, it worked." He let out surprised.
Toshinori's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's not fair?"
"Life!" He shouted. "Do you know how it's like to be the youngest kid in your grade and be quirkless? People think I'm some weirdo at school!" He motioned to the side. "Kids don't want to be my friends and if they do, it's because I'm the Number One hero's son not because I'm me!" He motioned to himself as fat Midoriya tears fell from his eyes. "I hate it! I can never fit in no matter how hard I try! And it doesn't help that mom and dad are so fixated on you!"
His older brother raised his green eyebrows up in confusion. "On me?"
"Of course you!" Asahi shouted. "You're the eldest son of the Number One hero of Japan! You have dad's quirk! You are constantly praised and upheld as this miracle child and you're so much like dad it leaves me (and I'm not sure about the others) in your shadow!"
Toshinori paused before letting out a chuckle at how rich this was. he put a hand to his face. Asahi paused as he looked up at his brother in shock that he was laughing at him. "Oh you must be kidding, Asahi. I'm the eldest! I'm the experiment child! You don't want to be me."
"Of course I'd want to be you!"
"NO!" Toshinori now adamently denied with a pointed look. "No you don't. Asahi..." He took a moment chuckling to himself, deciding to be transparent here. "I don't think you understand, I have nothing, absolutely nothing other than One for All." He stressed, his face falling of all humour. "You think you want to be me? My entire existence was based off the fact that I was expected to take dad's place as the Number One hero. I'm lucky that I wanted to be a hero but that's also because I've got nothing! I'm not smart enough to get into a good university degree, I'm not passionate enough about anything else to work at it to be good enough to earn a living for myself. All I have is this passed on quirk and the entire legacy of our father resting on my shoulders."
Asahi froze as he looked at his older brother. Toshinori looked at him with glossy eyes but he didn't shed a tear, he just frowned as he looked at Asahi. Kane took a step forward and put a hand to Toshinori's shoulder.
It snapped the other teen out of his daze as he sniffed and straightened up his posture, he put a smile to his face, hiding whatever baggage he held over his head.
"But you..." He motioned over to Asahi. "Man, you should hear the way mom and dad talk about you. The way they praise you. Dad had to spend hours talking to deans in universities around this country to give you a shot and prove how smart you were and that he wasn't just trying to use his name to get you special privileges. Mom always tells her friends about how one day you're gonna do something extraordinary." Toshinori was being honest with his younger brother. "You are more like dad than I could ever be. If he had never been a hero, he probably would have been just like you. So smart and talented without needing to be a hero to prove his worth, which is what he hopes for you."
Toshinori let out a shaky breath as he chuckled.
"So how about you get off your sorry butt and we head back home and you apologise, hm? I'm sure mom would make a good katsudon too! Hopefully dad wouldn't eat it all by the time we-"
Toshinori stopped talking as he looked down at his younger brother who had his arms wrapped around him. Asahi had ditched his glasses and had buried his face in his chest. "Thanks Toshi." He let out lowly.
Toshinori scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "Okay, okay, no need to turn into a sappy piece of brocolli. I didn't do anything."
"He really didn't. He beat you more than he did anything productive." Kane expressed.
Toshinori glared at his best friend. "And why are you even here?"
Kane shrugged. "Just had to make sure you didn't kill your brother. As your mothers favourite son, I can't sit back and let that happen."
"Are you, as a Bakugou, really telling me that your my mom's favourite?"
Kane ignored ignored Toshinori as he looked down at Asahi. His crimson eyes were gentle despite the fact that he always seemed rather monotonous in expression. "Asahi, let me give you a piece of advice." He started. "As someone without a mother and a present father, you are very lucky." He expressed. "Truly. Don't take that for granted."
Toshinori and Asahi glanced at each other before looking at Kane. "Kane, do you need therapy or something?" Toshinori asked. "Like seriously, are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Because I swear I've never seen you smile in more than three years."
"CAN WE FOCUS ON THE REASON WHY WE ARE HERE PLEASE?!"
You sat outside reading a book as Koda and Shoyo tried feeding the bunnies. Your two youngest sons, five and seven, were hand in hand as Shoyo tried to teach his younger brother how to do it. Your husband held you back against him as the both of you sat in the hanging cushioned seat. His eyes were closed as he held you against his chest, quiet.
You turned to look up at him, hickeys littered his neck. You kissed his jaw making his green eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you before giving you a gentle smile. He let out a hum as he tightened his arms around you and kissed your neck.
You ran a hand through his curls with a chuckle. "Tired, Mr Midoriya?" You asked him amusedly.
"Only if you go back upstairs with me." He gave the condition that made you giggle.
You gave him a look with a raised eyebrow. "Please." You let out in disbelief. "We have spent more than enough time in the bedroom today." You reminded him.
"Not nearly enough, in my opinion." You felt his lips move down to your own. You couldn't help but smile at the kiss, glad he was having a good time this fine evening as the sun began to set. You kissed him back.
"Mom! Dad!" You both turned to see Hero standing at the sliding door. "Look who's here!"
Stepping from behind Hero was your eldest son as well as his best friend. You smiled. "Toshinori! Kane! Hello boys." You waved at the two of them, not having seen them in person in the past few weeks. However, peaking out from behind was Asahi. Your eyebrows raised in surprise, not having heard from Inko to come and pick him up.
"HI MOM!" Toshinori waved over to you as he came down the steps of the patio to the garden. He walked over to you and bent down to kiss your head. "Evening dad."
"Hey kiddo." Izuku smiled, giving his son a fist bump. "How's school?"
"Fine. Uncle Shinso says hi by the way. Also, what's on your neck?" Toshinori's eyes went into a glare aimed at his father.
You giggled as you turned your attention to Kane. Kane stopped not too far away but his crimson eyes were on you. "Hello Kane." You stood up from where you were seated on top of Izuku.
"Evening, Aunty Y/N." He greeted you with a gentle smile.
You walked up to the now tall boy. Just like Toshinori, he was now taller than you and much bigger too. You put your hands to cup his face making him visibly ease. "Look at you, you're so tall now. How's training been?"
His gaze softened as he eased into your touch. "Just fine." He told you gently. The blond boy was like a son to you and you smiled, happy to know you could support him.
"Can you help me by bringing Shoyo and Koda inside? It's getting dark."
He nodded his head. "Of course, anything for you." He answered honestly, moving to go fetch your two youngest.
You smiled before turning to head back inside, ignoring Toshinori and Izuku's bickering about how much touch was too much, regarding you. You entered your house as you walked to the kitchen. You checked on dinner that was in the two ovens. The smell of lasagne wafted through your kitchen making you smile.
"Mom..." You paused as you turned around to where Asahi was. Fourteen year old son stood by the island counter, his eyes downcasted as he refused to look at you. You noticed that his hands were shaking as he stopped, keeping his distance away from you. "Mom I'm... I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean- I mean I did mean but I didn't intend to hurt you. I just... I hate school and it's been so rough for me and then there's you and dad and Toshinori and it's all just-"
This was the first time you saw your son so emotional. Sometime before the age of eight, Asahi turned rather analytical and fact based. You knew it was just his personality and whenever he did need to talk, he would come to you and talk, but now... now here he was, tears falling from his eyes as he tried to apologise to you.
"And I know dad won't forgive me and I don't blame him but please... please don't give up on me." He finished, closing his eyes.
You gave him a sad smile as you put down your oven mitts and walked over to your second eldest son. You carefully cupped his face in your hands making his eyes open to look at you. You wiped his big tears from his face as you looked down at him. "Asahi, if there's one thing about your father that I know, is that he has a very big heart. Families fight and argue, me and your father do it to, but if there's one things we don't do, is give up on each other. Sometimes we need space but we'll come back stronger. So it's okay." You whispered as you smiled down at him. You saw him try to fight back a sob but you just took off his glasses and pulled him into a hug. You pat his back the same way you used to when he was a baby and that was when the flood gates opened.
You silently chuckled. Midoriya's and their tears.
"Dad."
Izuku was still outside when everyone had gone inside to set the table and get ready for dinner. Izuku turned to look at Asahi. He turned back forward to look at the dark garden. The bunnies hopped into their rabbit house safe from the fears of outside. Angelica-Nina's daughter, just as fiesty as her mom, sat in his lap, her dark black ears with white tips were laying against her back as she loafed herself on Izuku's lap.
Asahi took a deep breath as he walked over to where his father sat on the steps of the patio. "Dad I..." He wasn't even sure where to start. His father's presence had never felt so imposing like now. He swallowed down hard, mustering up the courage. "I know I disappointed you and I'm sorry. What I did and said to you and mom was horrible. I just... it's been so hard at school. I don't have any friends there and I guess trying to fit in made me forget my values. I know that's not an excuse and I'm sorry. I really am. I... I can understand if you're angry at me and if you'd want me to continue staying at Obaasan's place, and Toshinori said I should prepare for a slipper to the head from you as well and-"
"Asahi." The sound of his name from his father made him stop.
Izuku motioned down next to him, tapping the space next to him. Asahi silently listened as he walked over to his father slowly. He sat down beside him. Izuku looked up at the sky and the few stars that sprinkled the sky since they were so close to the city.
Izuku drew in a breath. "I remember many years ago, when I was actually your age, I made my mother cry. And not out of worry or happiness." He revealed. Asahi stared up at him with wide eyes. "All my life until high school, I was quirkless. I was treated below the rejects and I had no friends in school after the age of seven. When I was fourteen a new phone had just came out that I wanted because everyone else was getting it.
The bullying seemed to only get worse considering the fact that I was not as well off as the other kids. So I asked your grandma if I could get that new phone. She said no, because we didn't have the money for it. She was a single mother that had to provide for her and her son. I got angry, mostly due to the fear of being left out. I shouted at her and screamed about how I just wanted to be like the other kids. I will never forget the look on my mother's face when I stopped speaking."
Asahi looked up at his dad seeing something in his eyes he rarely saw. Regret and anger turned at himself. Izuku was always close with his mother so the thought of him actually shouting at her seemed something so out of character of him. "Then... then what happened."
Izuku sighed. "She got me that phone a month later, at the expense of her own self of course." He revealed. "However, I found the receipt and returned it the very next day untouched. It wasn't worth the pain of the one person who loved me." Izuku turned to Asahi, looking down at his son with a gentle smile. "I get it, and I'm sorry that you have to go through that Asahi." He put a hand to his son's back. "I'm sorry that you've been feeling so lonely, but the way you spoke to me and your mother was not okay. You understand that?"
"Yes."
"Good. That's all we've got to sort out. Your mother and I will put you in a new school if you really want." Asahi's eyes widened in surprise. "You're a smart kid so the time you're out of school you can catch up in no time."
Taking Izuku by surprise, his fourteen year old son hugged him. "Dad." Asahi let out muffled. "You're a good dad."
It took Izuku a moment but his gaze softened as he put his arm around Asahi and squeezed. "Thank you."
-Glitch1d
*pushes away the Midoriya family adopting Kane one-shot to the back*
[ Kane One-Shot]
697 notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 7 months
Note
Hi, I just want to say that I adore your writing. I want to ask if you could write a Billy x reader fic, where reader is part of hellfire and Billy develops a crush on the reader to the point where Max is irritated by how lovesick he is. Max tells him to ask her out as it’s obvious that he likes her but Billy makes up an excuse which causes Max to roll her eyes and tell him to grow up. Billy asks the reader out and it turns out that she likes him too and it turns out that they have a lot in common (for example their shared love of metalica). On the Monday following the date during lunch Jason starts picking the hellfire table and calls them all freaks, Billy gets protective over the reader and punches him telling him to stay the hell away from his girl. This probably isn’t the best idea but if you do choose to write it, I can’t wait to read it
I hope this is what you were hoping for and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting and your kind words<3
Not freaks
Tumblr media
When Max first wanted to join Hellfire, Billy laughed his ass off. She rolled her eyes and scoffed. She didn't want to tell him or deal with him making fun of her, but she needed to be picked up. She'd seen Eddie drive, and she didn't want any part of that. He made Billy look like a safe driver.
Billy didn't agree, but he didn't have a choice. He knew Neil would lose his head if something happened to Max. He was smacking his steering wheel as he jammed out to Metallica. His speakers were loud and he was smoking his cigarette.
"Bye Max! See you tomorrow, tell your ride a great song" Billy threw out his cigarette, unlocking his door as he looked toward the passenger side. Max slid in as she waved off to a girl. A girl Billy never noticed before. He slightly leaned towards Max to see her but Max shoved him.
"Space! Jeez," Billy rolled his eyes at her comment and watched as the girl walked to her car. Even from the back of her head, she had Billy's attention, in more ways than one.
~~~
Billy couldn't recognize the girl and it was driving him insane, but he'd never ask Max. He didn't need her knowing his business or ruining his chance. He paid more attention in the hallways and his classes, searching around to see if he could spot her. But he never did.
"Hellfire ends at eight, so don't be late!" Max demanded, throwing on her backpack. Billy rolled his eyes and went to make a smart remark when that same girl walked up.
"Hey, Max! Are you ready for tonight? I sense Eddie is preparing to destroy all of us." Billy felt himself smiling as the girl giggled. His blue eyes checked her out, taking in her jeans and black sweater. Her black boots gave her a few inches as she ruffled Max's hair.
"Not like he can. We have the control." Max scoffed, she refused to ever seem weak around boys.
Billy coughed as loud as he could, knocking his knuckles on the car hood. Max rolled her eyes and turned around.
"Yes?" She hissed
Billy tried to signal what he wanted, nodding his head towards the girl. Max glared as she turned back.
"This is my asshole brother, Billy," Max announced with a bored tone. Crossing her arms as she smirked back at Billy.
"Y/N." She said, smiling politely as she nodded to him. Billy smirked and nodded back.
"You're the guy with the good music taste." She said, remembering the song that blasted way too loud through his speakers.
"And you're the pretty girl that recognized good taste." Billy smacked on his charming smile, loving how she smiled to the ground at the compliment.
"Gag," Max said, grabbing Y/N's hand and dragging her into the building.
~~~
"Tell me about Y/N" Billy demanded as he took the spot next to Max at the kitchen table. She looked up from her textbook with an annoyed sigh.
"Senior, hot, edgy, sadly your type, and even worse you are hers," Max said, shivering in fake disgust.
"But she's a hellfire freak?" Billy asked. "She doesn't seem to be freakish."
Max rolled her eyes, as usual. "Hellfire doesn't make you a freak, asshole. She's creative and is a damn good player. If anyone took the time to understand how DnD works, you'd realize it's not a freak show. Plus she'd kick your ass if you ever called her or any of us that."
"Is she single?" Billy asked, Max swore he almost looked nervous.
"If she had a boyfriend I would have said that, dingus." Max hissed, slamming her book shut. "I'd like to study in peace."
~~~
Billy had a sense of pride hearing Max say that he was Y/N's type. He honestly never cared to chase a girl, but he kept wondering about her.
During lunch he looked toward the freak hellfire table, seeing her smile. Billy couldn't help but stare, she was a magnet. She was single, but was she into any of them? Billy's eyes set on Eddie, a guy who had long hair like Billy did. A guy who wore leather like Billy did. Listened to cool bands like Billy did. If Billy was her type, would Eddie be too? He watched as she giggled and smacked Eddie's arm. His arm was thrown over her shoulder as he snacked on her fries. Billy took a mental note to ask Max about it.
~~~
"Dudeeeeee, you've asked about her every single day for the past week. Just ask the damn girl out." Max huffed, another night of Billy asking questions. She hated that he was a player and she had to deal with endless girls in her house. But somehow lovesick Billy was even worse.
"Her and I have barely had an interaction. She's not going to say yes to a stranger, Max!" He argued.
"You're not a stranger. I introduced you."
"In a horrible way might I add." Billy said as he glared down at her.
"Oh, whatever. I'm sure she's heard all about you around the halls." Max said, flipping through the TV. Her words made Billy a tad nervous. What if she was turned off by him because of his asshole and fuck boy act. Max looked over at him as he got silent. Her eyes looked over him. He almost looked nervous again.
"Look, you got a reputation and she might not be into that. But if you do like her and are serious about dating not just fucking. I think she'd hear you out." Max said softly, she stood up and patted his back as a sort of comfort. He smiled at the gesture and her words.
"What's her number?"
~~~
Max stood in Billy's door frame laughing as he raced around his room to find out what to wear. He tore apart his closet and dresser.
"Dude, it's a date. Grab jeans and a shirt that isn't unbuttoned all the way." Max advised.
Billy grabbed a classic T-shirt and his favorite jeans, pushing Max out of his room as he closed the door. He got dressed and covered himself in cologne. He hated that he was nervous.
~~~
"Billy I suck at this!" She groaned as she tossed the tiny ball. Billy laughed next to her, winning her skeeball challenge.
"Then why did you make it a competition?"
"Because I'm usually good at everything!" She huffed. Billy smiled at her pout and came behind her.
"Here, let me help." He tried not to melt when he smelled her sweet perfume. His hand covered hers as he swung her arm back.
"Follow this motion, then let the ball go." He instructed, he moved her arm back and forward. Her hand released the ball and went up the ramp. The ball finally made it in.
"YES!" She cheered, turning around as she hugged Billy. Her excitement was contagious as he spun her around.
Once she landed back on her feet, she realized how close their faces were. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned down. His soft lips pressed against hers.
~~~
Billy was still buzzing from the date. A smile on his face as he walked into school. Even Max could notice how happy he was.
He was reading through a car magazine in the cafeteria. Ignoring the commotion around him. Until he heard her voice.
He snapped his head up to see Jason at their table, running his mouth about the freaks and other names in the book. Billy took a deep breath and stood up. He walked over to the table as Y/N stood up and got in Jason's face.
"What are you gonna do, freak bitch?" Before Y/N could even speak, Billy grabbed Jason's shoulder and turned him around. His right fist connected with Jason's jaw, sending him straight to the floor.
"BILLY!" she gasped, grabbing his arm and moving him away. Teachers rushed to check on Jason.
"Talk about my girl or hellfire again, and I'll make sure you can never get back up." Billy hissed.
The hellfire table sat shocked that Billy Hargrove stood up for them. Y/N smiled at her boyfriend and Eddie gave him an approved nod.
Max smiled as she finally saw Billy in a new light, a happy Billy.
1K notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 26 days
Note
Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!
lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)
boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.
****
Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.
You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...
"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."
Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.
He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.
You need to make a break for it.
"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."
Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.
"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.
Where the hell is Leslie?
"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."
"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."
"Is there a problem?"
The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.
"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."
The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.
"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.
"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."
Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."
Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.
"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"
Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.
"Nope," he grits out.
"Mm. Then step off."
Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.
"I'll come back," he says.
"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."
Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.
"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."
You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.
Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.
"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"
"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"
"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."
His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.
"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."
You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.
You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.
"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."
You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."
"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."
You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"
Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.
"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."
You tighten your grip on the tape.
Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."
"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."
"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"
Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.
"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.
The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.
He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.
He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.
"Do you also fight here?"
He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."
You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.
His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.
You take out the antiseptic spray.
"Might be cold," you warn.
"'S okay."
You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.
"Your hands are really soft," he says.
"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."
Why did you share that?
Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."
"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.
Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.
"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.
He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."
You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."
"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."
"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."
He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."
Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."
"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."
You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."
"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"
"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."
Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.
"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."
It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.
"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"
"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."
Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"
You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."
Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."
"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."
She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."
"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."
Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.
"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."
She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."
You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.
"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"
"Sure. What for?"
You feel for the little tube in your pocket.
"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."
414 notes · View notes
haunted-xander · 7 months
Text
Do you ever think about how Alisaie's biggest fear is losing the people she cares about? How the very first conversation you have with her alone, a deeply personal one, is about her confiding in you about those fears? Telling you that she hated the state of the world Louisoix died for because, to her, it wasn't worth the sacrifice? She tells you about all the allies she made and lost, who she watched die and could do nothing to save them.
Do you ever think about how Alisaie was consistently one of the first to act, to recklessly throw herself at danger throughout stb? She didn't care (as much) about herself getting hurt, but she'd be damned if she let her friends suffer without doing anything. She has to be fast and proactive, because if she can't protect them even when striking first, how would she be able to when acting after the fact?
Do you ever think about how every time her loved ones are in peril/are in risk of being in peril her heart just breaks? How whenever someone's safety is unsure she panics and immediately tries to contact them/rush to their aid? When Castrum Abania's cannon shot the tower that, for all she knew, Alphinaud was still in, she immediately stops what she's doing and runs to it in panic because her brother was in there and he might be dead.
Do you ever think about how when the Scions start getting their souls yanked to the First, Alisaie reacts the strongest? How, when Urianger and Y'shtola got taken, she fell to her knees shaking Uriangers body, screaming for him to wake up? And when Gaius appears with Alphinaud in the Burn, she immediately goes to fight him (before being stopped by Hien) because this man, who has been her enemy, is holding her brother's lifeless body. She doesn't care that she can't possibily beat him, he has her brother and she's already lost so much in such a short amount of time. She's lost Thancred, Y'shtola and Urianger already, she can't lose Alphinaud too.
Do you ever think about how you are the only one she can fully rely on at that time, but who is also at risk of being taken away? Of how she's so desperate for you to stay, to not be taken away, that Alisaie, who, for all her bluntness, prefers to rely on herself first and foremost, begs you not to leave her? She begs you. Alisaie does not beg. She yells at you to not do something, and she'll scold you to hell and back if you do it anyway, but she does not beg. But this time she did.
And then she ends up being taken away right in front of you. She cries out for help and uses her very last energy to reach out for you. And then she falls limp.
Do you ever think about how, when Alphinaud turns to tell her his plans at the end of Ultima Thule, she immediately rejects it without even letting him say it? She's lost so much and experienced so much grief, not only overall but also just in Ultima Thule. And she loathes to bring that grief onto another. Especially to one who has already lost so much, like you. She hates it. She ends up doing it, yes, but she hates it still.
DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT-
958 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
Text
Make You Wish (Alastor x Reader) Chapter One -- Seven Years
Pairing: Alastor x Reader (Hazbin Hotel)
Warnings: Um, language?????? no gore in tis one. Tbh, this chapter is pretty chill.
Word Count: 1,278
Master List Links:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List 
Make You Wish Master List
A/N I'm back from the dead. Hi.
Tumblr media
"Love you... Bye." Charlie hung up the phone.
Quietly, she slipped back inside the hotel, shutting the door behind her. Things had not gone as planned today and they had not gone well either. She wanted this hotel to work, more than anything in the world she wanted to do what she could for her people. At the same time, it was hard not to feel hopeless after the mess on TV earlier and the lack of response from her mother. Letting out a protected sigh, she shut her eyes, leaning against the door.
As soon as Charlie's back hit the stained glass paneling, there came a quiet knock. Opening her eyes, she pulled herself from the door and tentatively turned towards it. Hope and a twinge of fear battled for control of Charlie as, at the sound of the person knocking a second time, she opened the door.
"Hel-"
Charlie shut the door right in the Radio Demon's face. Brow furrowed with confusion, doubt at what she had seen obscuring her mind, she opened it again.
"-lo!"
Charlie shut the door once again. Turning slowly, her eyes wide and her mind whirling, she headed into the main sitting area of the lobby.
"Hey Vaggie?" Charlie called for her girlfriend as she entered.
"What?" Vaggie asked, throwing her head over the back of the couch she was resting on as she did so, meeting Charlie's anxious eyes.
"The Radio Demon is at the door!" Charlie replied, her tone hiding nothing as she mocked the demon's well known smile, pointing back to the hotel entrance.
Vaggie straightened up immedeatly.
"What!" she exclaimed.
Angel, who was sitting on the couch beside her enjoying a popsicle, looked over in mild confusion. Shrugging, he decided he didn't really care and returned to his treat.
"What should I do?" Charlie practically begged.
"Well, don't let him in." Vaggie almost seemed more stressed by the situation than her girlfriend.
Charlie sighed, turning to look back at the door. Slowly, ignoring Vaggie's protests, she approached it once again. Steeling herself, Charlie opened the door.
"May I speak now?" the Radio Demon asked.
Charlie crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at him with an unamused expression.
"You may."
The speed with which the demon shot out his hand to shake her own took Charlie aback.
"Alastor." he announced, bowing so that they were eye to eye, "Pleasure to be meeting you. Yes, quite the pleasure."
--
Y/n's life had changed a lot in the past seven years. From the top of Hell to the bottom, her own personal fall. Not that she'd ever really been at the top, no. Just next to it. The spotlight had never really been her thing.
Hell had been Y/n's home for nearly seventy years. The picture perfect housewife gone mad. In life, she had secured her place after death in blood. Abusive didn't look good on her dearly departed husband after all and what was the point of life if not ridding out the rot to save the flowers?
Death had not come easily or without pain. After the police had caught her, she'd been found innocent for reason of insanity in the courts and sent to an asylum. No one seemed to want to hear or believe her part of the story. Just a year or so after her husband's death, she found peace through a failed lobotomy in 1955 and woke up to red skies.
Thankfully, Hell was large and inhabited enough that she never seemed to run into him down here. Y/n wasn't proud of what she had done in life, but she didn't regret it either. The truth was, she loved Hell. It was vibrant and lively. It was interesting. She had quickly found friends, moved up in the world. Then, the world had changed.
Seven years nearly to the day. Things had been rough at first, there was a new way in which she had had to learn to interact with the world around her. That was when she'd met Blitzo, in those early days of being on her own. Y/n would've thanked god but, god didn't come around these parts and far too many awful things had happened since then anyways but, she still saw their meeting as an odd sort of blessing. She had never been very good at being alone and he did save her, in a way. Even gave her a job at I.M.P., his business.
It was odd for a sinner to be working subservient to an imp in Hell, but not unheard of. Y/n got some looks on the street, sure. Some clients asked some rude questions and she wasn't technically allowed in the human realm but, neither were any of them really. Overall, she found her new life to be quite enjoyable, the good with the bad. Not as cushy or pleasant as her old life, but she saw no use in dwelling on any of that. It had been seven years, for heaven's sake. She couldn't hold out hope for something that would clearly never happen. Besides, she had always had a bit of a mean streak and the job helped deal with that.
She was a sinner, it was obvious. About a head taller than Blitzo, she was a 1950s dream: all movie star hair and legs. When he had first joined I.M.P. a few years ago, she'd even worn the dresses to match. Once they started getting actual jobs, once Blitzo had found a way to travel to the human realm, that had changed. Y/n had seen the fashions of the knew world and enjoyed them quite a bit.
Rings on five of ten fingers, heaps of necklaces, even a tattoo or two. She topped off the whole look with black cargo pants, tank tops, and a choker with spikes and a ring on it. It all went rather well with the attributes she'd acquired once arriving in hell.
She come off lucky in regards to changes in her body when she had died. When people fell into the pits, they received attributes that somehow related to the person they were on earth as well as how they died. Y/n had been harmless on the outside, and able to cause real harm if pushed to it. Docile and gentle, but angry. So she'd ended up like this, with little freckles and a white dots of various sizes marring her now grey skin. Sweet little horns perched on the top of her head, a thin forked tail, and sharp teeth when she was provoked. It made sense, if it was a bit stereotypical. Overall, she couldn't complain.
She had been lying in bed in the apartment she now shared with Blitzo and Loona when she'd felt it in her bones. It was an odd sort of shiver that went down her spine, a tingle at the back of her head. The world had changed again. Y/n didn't know how she knew that, or why, or even in what ways things had become different, but laying there in the dark, something shifted.
She sat up, looking out the window over the darkened landscape of pentagram city. Off in the distance, she could just barley make out the lights of the Princess of Hell's new passion project, some rehab center for sinners or something of the like. Y/n let out a sigh.
The last time she felt this way, her whole life had fallen apart. As she laid back down, she couldn't help but pray to whoever was listening it wouldn't be happening again.
----
Next Part -> Chapter Two -- Where Is She
504 notes · View notes
luvnoirs · 3 months
Text
paige bueckers x fem!reader hcs !
warning(s): none ! (sfw)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
she's so attentive like you can obviously tell during her interviews so she loves listening to you what you have to say. it doesn't even have to be a serious or heavy conversation. you could be talking about the weather and she'd be so tuned in like she's in love fr
date nights are mostly chill and cozy vibes. like you'll have movie nights or go to the beach if it's nice out. sometimes you'll stay in an do karaoke cause paige swears up and down that she can sing like sza. but then again paige loves spending quality time with you so she considers everything you do together a date
she'll point to you and say "this is for you" before she shoots the ball (she makes it of course) and then smooch at you
has a playlist dedicated just for you on her public apple music account with songs that remind her of you. it's mostly rnb vibes and "love" by keysha cole is the first song on there
calls you "princess"
like i said before she's big on physical touch so she likes to give back hugs and shoulder kisses
also clingy as hell... if she's had a busy day with school and/or practice and hasn't seen you in a while, prepare to be suffocated by her the second she she's you
paige always thinks she's right so you two are always arguing (nothing too serious just dumb stuff mostly)
"you did not just say drake's best album is 'thank me later'..."
if the argument is serious and she's mad at you or vice versa, it literally never lasts more than five minutes because she hates not seeing you happy. she'll even admit she's wrong
she'll wrap her long arms around you as you face the opposite direction with your arms crossed and a frown on your face. she bends down to place a kiss on the side of your face before her head falls into the crook of your neck. "i'm sorry..."
damn near forces you to play fortnite with her and hypes you up every time you get a kill. she'll be so proud of you too with a stupid smile on her face as she watches you play
all her tiktok drafts are full of those cheesy ass slideshows about your relationship but she makes sure to post the 'what's up riri/what's up rocky' one publicly for everyone to see how cute yall are
she's definitely not one of those people who controls what their s/o wears so if you want to wear something revealing, she'll be all for it
very protective but not to the point where it's consuming or overwhelming. like if you're walking on the sidewalk she'll always make sure she's on the side closest to the street
when it comes to gifts she loves to do the most. like she already loves spoiling you so if it's christmas or valentines day she'll be stressing about making sure your gift is perfect. she's lowkey a romantic too so she'll get you the traditional red roses and scatter rose petals along the floor in your bedroom, and then gets red faced when you tease her about how 'corny' it is (you love it tho)
on the more sensitive side she lets her guard down around you. if she's upset about anything she'll vent to you or cry it out as you rub her back and wipe her tears
calls you her "wife" especially when referring to you while talking to other people like yall are so locked in
Tumblr media
pls lemme know if you want more or send some requests thru my asks lmao
442 notes · View notes
thursdaygxrls · 4 months
Note
Enemies to lovers & enemies with benefit, remus x reader pls? They both are academic rivals and one day things got heated and they have angry sex then after that everytime they would argue in ends up in them having sex? Maybe add in a jealous remus hehe
i absolutely loved this request!! tried my best (i haven't written smut in a while, sorry if it's trash). might need to do a part two to add the jealous remus in :)) also, i'm trying out a new intro set up because i'm tired of the old one
how to hate a boy
pairing remus lupin x reader
warnings mdni!! smut, lotta smut, fingering, p in v (protected), general hatred, really bad editing (i didn't edit tehe)
Tumblr media
Remus Lupin was always a crude, scruffy boy. Ever since she’d met him, he’d been nothing but trouble. It started with the pranks. Remus Lupin and his moronic Gryffindor companions had become notorious for their practical jokes within the first few years of Hogwarts. It was nothing necessarily harmful: enchanting quills to scribble on sleeping students' faces or swapping out pumpkin juice for polyjuice potion. They were always annoying, but never intrusive to her specifically. Until the end of fourth year.
She prided herself on being one of the brightest witches of her age, receiving praise from McGonnagle and Slughorn themselves. It was only natural to assume she'd ranked somewhere in the top five in each year's final exams. There was an ease to her step when she walked to the board outside the square where each fourth year's marks had been posted. Though there was a crowd of both horrified and excited children, she pushed through to look at the list. Her eyes moved to the top immediately, gently combing through the list until...
In that moment, she died.
She found her name next to an emboldened number six, and the name above? Lupin, Remus John. Her mouth was dry in an instant, all the moisture having been sucked from her tongue to her eyes. As if the colossal failure along with its physical repercussions wasn't enough, Sirius Black, one of said moronic Gryffindors, had popped up next to her for a look at the board.
"Would you look at that, Moons!" His ecstatic tone sent a wave of bile up her throat, "You're in the top five!"
"Piss off." She heard his gruff voice respond.
"I'm serious! You're up here!"
That was about all she could take. She pushed through the crowd, ignoring the hisses of annoyance and the calls of 'what the hell's her problem?' Hot, salty tears filled her eyes as she stomped from the square. Something like this would never happen again, she would make sure of it.
Thus, the rivalry was born.
Remus never truly knew how he'd suddenly gained an enemy the next year. He didn't know her well - she was just a girl in his year, not one he'd ever talked to or singled out. Yet, there was a newfound aggression she held towards him that unleashed itself within the classroom. If he began to raise his hand to answer a question, hers would shoot up with no hesitation before his fingers were as high as his head. He thought she was just eager and he was just slow until it happened in every class they had together for two weeks.
Then, in the library, she would casually pluck the books he would reach for. It was a nuisance, truly, and more than that, he received an A on a paper he could've received an O on if he'd just had the books he needed. It was then he accepted that this was not a random occurrence, this girl truly had some sort of vendetta against him, and he needed to retaliate. Returning to his dorm after collecting his graded paper, he immediately sought to design a prank to put an end to this one-sided war. However, within minutes of planning it, an idea occurred to him: maybe he'd started it all, or Sirius, or James, or Peter. Perhaps she'd been fodder in one of their pranks, and in turn was the one getting her revenge.
Remus was not an unreasonable man. Unlike Sirius (who would've pulled something far worse than a practical joke on her), he could deal with this situation with something much less drastic: a conversation.
He found her the next day tucked away in the library. She was at a table near the back where there were more cobwebs than books. He approached her with the same caution someone might lend to a venomous snake or feral cat. Slow, steady steps led him to her chair, where he introduced his presence with an awkward cough.
"Hi," he spoke, tone unwavering. She, whose eyes had been gliding along the pages of a book, looked up at him with an uninterested gaze. He stood still for a moment before letting out a sigh.
"I'm sorry, alright?" He huffed, though he wasn't sure what his was sorry for.
"Sorry?" She raised a brow in what seemed to be genuine intrigue.
"Yeah, y'know," he gently scraped the edge of his boot against the table leg, "For whatever I did. Or we did. Whatever bit of fun we had that's got you so miffed with me."
All at once, her quirked brow and sense of interest dissipated, replaced by a hard scowl. Quickly, she began packing away her belongings, not caring to spare him a glance.
"What?" There was a sense of annoyance in her voice, "I was apologizing."
"Mhm," she hummed, zipping her bag. Before she left, she met his eyes with a piercing gaze, "I heard about that A you got, Lupin. Try a little harder next time, will you?" With that, she left the library and a partly-dumbfounded, partly-pissed Remus.
His initial reaction was to fight fire with fire: if she wanted to be a prick, he'd show her how low he could get. He stomped through the castle, steam blowing from his ears. His face was twisted into one of rage when he slammed his dorm door shut, immediately alerting his roommates.
"'Bloody hell's wrong with you?" Sirius immediately perked up from the upside-down position he had on his bed. Remus, more than ready to respond, opened his mouth only to find that no words would come out.
I heard about that A you got, Lupin. Try a little harder next time, will you?
That remark, her book sabotage, the amount of times she'd overshadowed him in class. This hatred towards him was personal, and it had to do something with his marks. He had been doing quite well recently, especially with coming up in the top five of last year's final exams. A wicked smile crossed his lips as he slowly slid his bag from his shoulders.
"Nothin'," Remus shook his head, walking to his desk, "Nothin's wrong at all."
"That was concerning, that face you made – did anyone else see that? James?" Sirius glanced around the room to see James far too invested with his Walkman and Frank and Peter half asleep in their beds.
"Trust me, Pads, I'm perfect," he shot Sirius a grin.
Next week, there a new paper was assigned in Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class he and his new sworn enemy shared. Instead of visiting the library in the afternoon as he always had, he would go during early mornings. Yawning, he fought the urge to resume his slumber on his table as he scribbled down notes upon notes of research. He got quicker, too, learning to raise his hand faster than she could ever dream of. Sure, sometimes he didn't know the answer to the question being asked, but he was quicker than her, and that's all that mattered.
A month later, when the DADA essays were now graded and redistributed to the students, he found a large red O at the top left of his paper. A wild, toothy smile adorned his lips as he looked down at the letter. The class had ended, but most of the students were there, pouring over the grades they'd received. Remus eyed the room for a moment before finding her at a table a few seats behind him. He stood, leaving Sirius, his desk partner, to tap his nails against his paper marked with the words 'See me after class!'
Remus was stealthy, making his way to her with the slow, collected steps he'd used before. Only this time there was no caution: he was decisive, cool. He sneaked a look at her paper, catching a glimpse of a red E. Looking back to her face, he noticed the gentle, pretty smile spread on her lips, but quickly shook his head.
"Nice work," he hummed, asserting himself. She looked to him with that same uninterested gaze he'd seen before. At that, his smirk grew tenfold.
"Maybe try harder next time, though, yeah?" He held up his paper. She couldn't even try to hide the shock, her jaw falling immediately to reflect to O on his paper. Without a word, he turned and slid out of the classroom.
Though it seemed like a done deal, this rivalry carried on for years. It went from a silent challenge to an increasingly public feud, which included spats in the Great Hall and fiercely whispered arguments in the library. It only worsened when they each became Prefects: their new privileges allowed even more room for one-upping. At some point, all of Hogwarts either knew of or had experienced their shared wrath. Opinions on the quarrel varied.
"She's fit," Sirius had said one afternoon in sixth year, "Nice bum. Maybe a good snog would set you both straight."
"Have you ever talked to her?" Lily Evans asked during a study session with Remus, "Try reasoning?"
"Fight the power!" James screamed, half drunk, half high at a party.
By seventh year, it seemed as though there was nothing that could be done. They hated each other, and that was that.
It was late November when Remus had Prefect rounds. Frost covered the edges of the windows he passed, and he wondered if it was he or the snow outside that had caused it. It was pure chance that drove him towards the library. He just wanted to stop there for a moment of silence before returning to his dorm. Of course, he had his silence in the empty hallways, but he chose to ignore that in favor of inhaling the scent of old books.
He entered the library, walking through a few shelves and mindlessly trailing his thumb along book spines. It was dark, but his wand provided a good bit of light to see ahead of him. He turned to leave when a noise pricked his ears: a loud thud in the back of the library.
Remus was on high alert as he rushed back to where the sound had come from. It was likely nothing more than a few first years sneaking out or a couple trying to get in a late night snog, but he still held his wand at the ready. What he did not expect to see upon turning the corner was his mortal enemy crouched over fallen books.
"What the hell are y'doing?" He spoke, his voice not nearly as quiet as he'd hoped. Her head shot up immediately before bowing with a hiss due to the light of his wand.
"Get that bloody light out of my face, you ass," she huffed, setting the books back down on the table. It was as though she was fully set up for a study session: books, parchment, quills, and the warm glow of a candle. He studied the scene with furrowed brows.
"You shouldn't be in the library, it's past curfew," he said in a sharp tone. Another look at the girl led him to (hesitantly) soften up his gaze. Under the white light of his wand, he could clearly see the marks of exhaustion left on her face, the very ones he saw in himself at the mirror. He settled himself in the space between her table and an empty one behind him.
"Past hours? Really now?" She shot back in a sarcastic tone. Remus huffed.
"You should be sleeping," he grumbled out.
"And you should be up?" She rolled her eyes, "Go on, leave me alone. I have work to do."
"What kind of git stays up late to work?" He said, ignoring that fact that he was absolutely that kind of git, "Get to bed."
The words didn't seem to pierce her, as she turned back to her book, unaffected. He stared down at her seated form, unsure of what to do. A cough (disguised as a groan) left him, and he decided to push a bit more. He leaned towards the table to pick up a book.
"What are you even–”
"Stop," she snapped. In a flash she stood and swiped the book from his hands. They were both on their feet now, their feet within centimeters of each other.
"You should sleep," he repeated with a clenched jaw.
"And what do you care?" She griped.
"You're a student out past hours, and I'm a Prefect," he said in a tight voice.
"Prefect? I'm a Prefect, you dunce," she scoffed, waving her hand in an irritated manner, "Just shut it and-"
"Don't tell me to shut it." The interruption was accompanied by a grip on her wrist. The sudden physical contact was a surprise to both of them. Even more surprising was the fact that she hadn't yet snagged her hand back.
"There would be no need to tell you to shut it if you didn't keep your ugly mouth closed," she hissed, her tone far louder than what was considered appropriate for a library. The silence was thick between them. His fingers burned her skin from the heat he radiated.
Remus didn't know what it was that made him do it. Sleep deprivation, frustration, rage, bashful horniness from the way he was yelled at. Whatever it may be, he unclasped her wrist only to capture her jaw and smash his lips to hers in an angry kiss. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't gentle, and he nearly pulled away when he realized what he'd done only to feel her hands grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.
It was unabashedly ugly the way they kissed. Open mouths and gnashing teeth, more wrath and bite than the result of a tender love love confession. Remus had entirely forgotten there was a table behind him until her hands met his chest and pushed him back, knocking him onto the solid wood surface.
He was taller, but in this moment, she was above him, biting his lower lip and pulling his hair with total disregard to how it may hurt him. This action ripped a deep groan from his throat as wave of sweet pain washed over his scalp. His sudden vocalization sent her flying back with wide eyes.
"What are we doing?" She said through heavy breaths.
"You wanna stop?" He spoke, equally breathless. Her immediate reaction was to say 'no,' which scared her into stunned silence. Remus took this lapse to quickly stand to his full height and push her back towards her table. His lips were back on hers as he carelessly slid her belongings to the ground. He had just enough clarity to move the candle with a bit more diligence, setting it down on the table in front of hers.
Finding herself trapped snuggly between Remus and the wood, she hopped up to sit on the table. This new position seemed to suit Remus as well, seeing as he slotted himself directly between her open legs. His lips descended from her mouth to her jaw. He lost himself in her gasps as he nipped and sucked at her skin, though, he wasn't lost enough to ignore the way her hips jolted into his when sunk his teeth into the junction where her jaw met her neck.
His hands slid further down, testing the boundaries below the waist. His callused fingers pulled up the edge of her sweater to find the band of her jeans. Despite the way he was hungrily eating away at her flesh, his hands were hit a stagnant pace.
"God, you're always so slow," she growled, smacking his hands out of the way to undo the button of her jeans. She expected some sort of quip in return, maybe even a harsh bite on her neck, but there was nothing. Remus was silent except for his breathing, yet, his eyes shown a different story. The candlelight reflecting against his pupils created tiny fires encased by a ring of hazel. He removed his lips but not his body, keeping her pressed to the table as his licked the fingers of his right hand. He shoved past her loosened jeans and panties to find her pussy, already a bit wet. She gasped, but he quickly used his other hand to clamp her mouth shut.
“Slow enough for you?” He whispered against the shell of her ear as one finger lightly dipped past her entrance. He was achingly slow yet deliberate, pushing his finger in before letting it recede. She moaned into his palm against her will at the pace. Her hands moved to grab his wrist, but somehow, he was quicker. He moved from her mouth to clasp her hands and slam them down on the table behind her, causing her to slide backwards and him to gain more control on top of her.
“Oh, too slow?” He asked in mocking tone. In an instant, his fingers had gone from feather-light strokes to quick pumps, fucking her entrance without any of the gentleness he’d given before. The sudden speed with which he'd changed his pace caused his other hand to slacken his grip on her restraint, and one of her hands slipped to hold onto his shoulder.
"Fuck, hold on – slow – Remus, please," she gasped out. His fingers hurt, but there was something so delicious about the pain he was giving her, like a bruise you couldn't stop pressing. Remus, hearing her, eased up slightly to a lighter pace, though, he was still moving without an ounce of caution.
With the new pace in place, her hand moved slowly down from his shoulder and towards his abdomen. Finally, she found purchase just under his raggedy belt where a bulge had formed. When she gripped him, a groan left his lips, and his fingers stuttered their movements.
"Merlin, don't cum in your pants." Though she was nearly breathless, her words still held that same edge they always did.
"Fuck you," he rasped as his thumb found her clit. The new sensation sent a shockwave through her, and her hand resurfaced on his bicep. It had only been minutes since he'd started, but, embarrassingly enough, she felt the hot mixture of pain and pleasure tightening in her. Within moments, she couldn't take it anymore, and a half-silent cry escaped her as she came on his fingers. His movements slowed, but never let up entirely.
"Don't cum in your pants next time," he whispered gruffly as his hand slipped away. It was then that she realized that her jeans were still up to her thighs, and Remus never bothered to remove her panties to gain more access. Ignoring the way he'd said 'next time,' she met his eyes.
"Are you gonna blue-ball yourself or get on with it?" She snipped.
"You always have something to say," he shook his head. His fingers, still laced with her release, reached for his belt. Each of them shuffled out of their jeans and undergarments. Remus was quick to shuffle through his discarded pants to find his wallet, which housed a singular crumpled condom. She watched as he tore it open.
"Who's fucking you, Lupin?" She scoffed.
"You, apparently," he replied, slipping the condom over his length. He hated that he was hard as a rock without being touched, but chose to ignore that fact as he lined himself with her entrance.
Remus sunk into her slow, a feeling that caused each of them to hiss at. His hands found her waist as hers found his shoulders. For a moment, they were still: her, sitting at the edge of the table, him, between her legs. Then, he began to move. Slow, languid strokes to the rhythm of something a little more tender than what they were doing.
"You fuck like a grandpa," she huffed against his shoulder. Truth be told, she actually quite liked the pace he'd set. It wasn't as if she could let him know that, though.
"Merlin, you talk too much," he groaned in reply. Half-angered and half-turned on by her words, he immediately assumed a quicker pace. It was a fast ramp up from tender love-making to hateful fucking that had them both gasping for air. He thrust into her without regard for any of her pleasure, choosing to chase his own high. In return, she met him halfway, returning his vigor with just as much urgency.
Though they both still had their sweaters on, their grips on each other threatened to wear the material. Her nails dug past the woven fabric to prick his skin, and the pads of his fingers pressed harsh marks into her waist. The speed at which they were moving drove Remus further to the edge, and after a while, he was biting back whimpers. Sensing this, she licked her lips.
"I'm not even close," she spoke, though, her breathless voice partially betrayed her. Remus, however, couldn't care less whether she was bluffing or not. His hand slipped from her waist to find where they met. Like before, his thumb rubbed circles against her clit, causing her to clench around his length. This new feeling was the straw that broke the camels back, and each of them came undone, letting out simultaneous moans of pleasure.
Remus gave a few more weak thrusts before the sensation became too much and he chose to stand still, heaving hot breaths into the crook of her neck. They were both still in the wake of what they'd done. Clarity washed over them, and eventually he pulled out.
They silently gathered themselves. He moved away from her and tied off the condom while she located and pulled up her partially wet panties. The only sounds that accompanied them were heavy breaths and zippers.
"We shouldn't have been so loud," she spoke as she gathered her books into her bag, "It's a bloody library, someone could've easily caught us."
"You shouldn't have been in the library in the first place," he huffed in return. Under the light of the still-burning candle, Remus noticed a splotch of wetness at the edge of the table. Moving his sleeve past his palm, he wiped the spot down.
"Ew," her brows furrowed as she looked at him with disgust.
"I was just inside you, you can't say 'ew' to that," he rolled his eyes at her. She opened her mouth to respond, but instead, shifted her weight. A sigh left her lips.
"We should leave separately," she spoke quietly, "You go ahead first."
"Oh, so you can stay in the library past hour?" He raised a brow.
"You're one to talk! All you do is cause problems, and–" she stopped herself with a deep inhale, "Just leave first, yeah? You're probably supposed to be back by now, Prefect rounds don't last this long." While he wanted to argue, he instead let out a huff and whispered a quick lumos to light the end of his wand. With a final glance back at her, he left, quickly making his way out of the library and to the halls. As he walked, he finally had a moment to realize what they'd just done.
What in hell was that? He calmed himself by looking at the facts. Fact: he hated her. Fact: she hated him. Fact: that was the best sex he'd ever had. Fact: he wanted to do it again.
He swallowed hard as he stepped through the portrait of the Fat Lady and into the Gryffindor common room. His movements were robotic: first, going to the washroom to clean up and dispose of the condom still in his possession, second, moving to his dorm room to not sleep. He slipped into the room quietly to find each of his roommates asleep. Relief flooded him as he slipped his sweater over his head.
"You're late." A voice startled him so bad that he nearly threw his sweater. Gulping, he scanned the room to find Sirius partially propped up. His black hair was a mess, and it seemed as though he was only half awake.
"Yeah, uh," Remus finished changing and slipped into his bed, "A few first years were out. Causing trouble, y'know, the usual."
"I thought maybe you'd ran into Y/n, got into a late-night screaming match," Sirius giggled. The mention of her name caused him to tense, but he tried his best to laugh along with the joke.
"No, no Y/n," he lied through his teeth.
"Y'know," Sirius sat up a bit more, "You two should just shag and get it over with. I bet–”
"Goodnight, Pads," Remus interrupted him quickly.
"Fine, fine, don't shag," he shrugged, laying back down, "Never know."
Though he tried to fight it, a small grin stretched across his lips. Remus knew very well.
785 notes · View notes
wileys-russo · 4 months
Text
put em up II k.mccabe x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
lil soft katie based on this request here put em up II k.mccabe x reader
katie was expecting a call to come and pick you up, so her phone sat idly by her side as she sat on the sofa engrossed in a boxing match on tv.
in between yelling at the screen or groaning unhappily at the result, every now and then her eyes would flicker down and she'd tap the screen, just to make sure she hadn't missed a text or a call or accidentally swapped her phone to silent.
it wasn't often that the two of you went out without the other given your group of friends had become incredibly mingled over the years you'd been seeing one another.
but it was a reunion night out with some of your best friends from high school that katie was happy to spend the night in alone, partners not invited for this one which the girl understood given the group rarely all managed to get together.
that didn't mean your overtly protective girlfriend wasn't worried though, as she always was anytime the two of you weren't together. but she trusted you, and so she tried to remind herself of that as she busied herself to try and keep her mind off it.
she'd been in the bathroom brushing her teeth ready to curl up in bed when the call came a little before two in the morning, toothbrush clattering into the sink as she darted back into the bedroom to swipe accept.
"katie baby!" the irish woman grinned at the clear slur in your voice. "hi darlin." the girl chuckled as you sighed happily. "missed you! can you come and pick me up please?" you slurred with a smile on the other end of the line.
"of course, where are ya?" katie questioned as you stayed silent, the girl wincing as you suddenly screamed at one of your friends the same question. "scouts landing!" you answered happily, hiccuping a little as you did.
"okay, i'll be there soon and i'll call ya once i'm out the front so please keep your phone near you babe. do me a favour?" katie smiled in amusement as you hummed, clearly returning inside as the music in the background became louder and someone yelled shots.
"drink some water please, and no more shots!"
~
"oh for fucks sake." katie groaned as she tried your phone again but it rang out, hovering outside the bar half freezing to death. in a pair of black matching sweats and hoodie she was hardly dressed for a bar, but it seemed entering was her only option as you'd disregarded her warning to keep your phone close.
so with a defeated sigh she made her way over to the entrance, stopped by the security guard who gave her a questioning life. "look i'll be in and out. my girlfriends in there and she asked me to pick her up!" katie explained as the guy only chuckled and nodded for her to move on.
"come on! ya can even walk me in and out, its half two in the mornin ya think i'm after a pint?" katie scoffed as the man again just nodded for her to move on. "ah fuck this." the girl mumbled, the last thing she needed to be was arrested or in any sort of trouble.
she stood outside and tried you one more time, swearing as the phone again rang out. but right as she was starting to build a plan to sneak in she heard her name yelled out and looked up, one of your friends hanging off the balcony.
"what the hell are you doin down there?" your friend, whose name katie knew but just couldn't seem to place, called out with a laugh. "she called me to come pick her up but she's not answering her phone and they won't let me in!" katie yelled up as your friend nodded.
"two seconds. i'll bring her out!" katie breathed a heavy sigh of relief at that, stepping back and sending a filthy look toward the security guard who was clearly still watching her, his hand hovering near his radio.
but she didn't have to wait long, hearing a drunken giggle and a grunt as two of your friends helped you out, katie unable to be mad at you for not answering as you started to sing at the top of your lungs.
"oh god not this, every time she's had jager she thinks she's mariah carey!" your friend groaned slapping a hand on your mouth and smiling apologetically to security who shook his head.
"judgmental prick." katie mumbled under breath shooting daggers at him as you finally reached the bottom of the stairs. "can she even walk?" katie sighed with a small smile at the state of you, rare was it she'd ever seen you so drunk but she knew you'd been missing these friends so you deserved the night to unwind.
"she can run!" your friend from earlier rolled her eyes as you spotted your girlfriend and visibly lit up. "baby!" you cheered, breaking free of their grip and launching yourself at katie who caught you with a grunt.
"hi gorgeous, what happened to answering your phone hm?" katie chuckled, thanking your friends who patted your back and made their way back inside. "oh its..." you frowned, patting at imaginary pockets on your dress.
"oh no i lost it!" you gasped wide eyed. "no you didn't idiot its in your bag." katie chuckled, the bag in question slung over her shoulder as she took your hand and started to walk you to her car. "what would i do without you." you sighed pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek.
"get hit by a car!" katie warned tugging you sharply back away from the curb as a car zoomed past, pulling you to cross the road with her once it was safe. "come on, in we get." katie grunted as she helped you into her own car.
"babe can we get a mcdonalds?" you slurred, head thumping back as katie buckled herself in and started the car. "i dunno if food is the best idea love." katie chuckled, not in the mood to clean your throw up out of her car.
"food is always a good idea! who are you and where is my girlfriend who steals my food all the time." you scoffed, head swiveling around as you glared at her through hooded eyes. "alright alright, calm down." katie chuckled, one hand on the wheel and the other settling on your leg.
"did you drink some water?" your girlfriend asked glancing to you at a red light as a small smile curled onto your lips. "yep, sure did." you slurred giving her a thumbs up. "oh really?" katie laughed, shaking her head knowingly.
"i did! all my drinks had ice in them, and ice is made of water. boom!" you slapped your hand against her dash. "hey! be nice to the car." katie scolded, one arm shooting out to press against your chest to stop you flying forward as she suddenly braked.
"nice indicator ya fucken arsehole!" katie swore at the car in front who'd cut in. "road raaaage." you sung out with a dopey smile, poking at her cheek as she swatted away your hand. "you're so funny." you chuckled, hand dropping back into your lap.
"i know, i'm a funny girl." katie grinned, turning into the mcdonalds near your house. "my funny girl! my funny irish girl." you slurred, gently smacking her cheek with your hand and blowing her a kiss.
"what do you want ya pest?" katie chuckled pulling into the drive through, grabbing your hand which continued to poke at her. "everything!" you cheered with a grin, eyes closing a little.
"yeah hi can i please get a cheeseburger happy meal with a water, six nuggets and a coke?" katie ordered, pushing away your head as you tried to lean over and add to the order. "thank you!" katie chirped, driving to the next window as you huffed and slumped into your seat.
"stop mopin or i'll eat all your food!" your girlfriend warned teasingly as you flipped her off, katie paying and driving through, taking the bags and balancing them on her lap. "wait!" katie laughed pushing your eager hand away, pulling into a parking spot.
"cmon im hungry!" you whined as your girlfriend handed you the happy meal. "you got me a kids meal?" you groaned, but that all disapeared as you snatched out the toy from inside making katie roll her eyes with an amused smile.
"we can give it to coopur!" you cheered happily, unwrapping your cheeseburger and shoving almost the whole thing into your mouth. "darlin you're gonna choke!" katie smacked your leg lightly as you spoke something through your mouthful.
"urgh i don't speak that language." katie pulled a face of disgust as you slowly swallowed and shovelled a handful of fries into your mouth, sending your girlfriend a dopey grin.
"god help me i'm datin a gremlin."
~
"no no no, up to bed." katie laughed, grabbing your arm as you tried to wiggle past her into the living room. "m'not tired, don't be a buzzkill!" you poked her cheeks and stuck your tongue out, yanking your hand free and wandering off.
"a buzzkill! you wound me babe." katie tutted, following you into the kitchen. "nope! you wish." your girlfriend moved to kick shut the cupboard you opened knowing full well thats where the two of you stored your alcohol.
"water only for you now pretty baby." katie smiled, moving her body to block you from opening it again. "i am an adult you can't cut me off! you're not even a bartender." you slurred, swaying side to side unable to properly stand.
"ya feelin a bit seasick darlin? swaying an awful lot there." katie grinned causing you to scoff and wave her off. "move!" you ordered, hands on hips glaring the taller girl down. "no." katie shrugged simply.
"alright. i'll fight ya then!" you challenged, closing one eye and holding your fists up. "cmon mccabe, put em up!" you started to bounce on the balls of your feet, stumbling slightly but staying upright as you punched the air.
"oh thats adorable, you're adorable." katie gave you a toothy grin of amusement as you scoffed. "don't you patr-patron-" you struggled to get out the word making katies grin grow.
but she was caught off guard as suddenly you launched at her with a war cry, ducking as you swung and grabbing your arms, wrapping them around your own body like a straight jacket.
"oh no babe you're too strong for me!" katie cooed sarcastically as you struggled to break free of her grip, getting one hand free and punching at her stomach.
"rock hard baby!" katie smirked smacking her stomach with her own hand before easily tossing you over her shoulder and marching the two of you to your shared bedroom, flicking off lights as she went.
"thats a lovely massage thank you hun." katie smirked as you smacked and punched her back demanding she put you down. "it is three in the mornin gorgeous and you're smashed, we're goin to bed!" katie laughed at your protests.
"take my makeup off." you demanded as your girlfriend gently dropped you onto the mattress. "take your makeup off..." katie hovered over you with an expectant smile.
"now?" "so polite my love, how could i say no."
with that she helped you back up, the two of you wandering into the bathroom as katie lifted you to sit on the sink. "sit still squirmy." the brunette teased, squeezing your thighs and kissing your cheek as she moved to grab the micellar wipes.
"you missed!" you huffed, puckering your lips expectantly. "you smell like a bar, maybe once you brush those teeth!" katie smiled, your eyes closing as she gently started to wipe away your makeup. "i kiss you in the morning before you brush your teeth!" you rebutted her previous point.
"and whats that supposed to mean then!" katie tutted, pinching your leg and kissing your cheek again as she'd taken off as much makeup as she could.
"your breath smells in the mornin babe i thought that was pretty obvious!" you slurred with a dopey grin, tilting your head and swaying a little as katie quickly pushed you to sit back against the wall.
"such a charmer you are, aren't i lucky." the brunette smiled. "now open that bar cart you're callin a mouth!" katie teased, brushing your teeth for you and smacking your leg every time you tried to talk which would just result in you spitting toothpaste at her.
"done! now kiss." you spat and rinsed your mouth out, tapping your lips impatiently as katie grinned and sweetly kissed you, your arms moving to wrap around her neck as she slotted between your legs.
"no baby, you're too drunk." katie chuckled as you reached to try and tug her top off. "i'm not drunk, you're drunk!" you booped her nose with a grin. "sure, how many fingers am i holdin up?" katie purposefully wiggled her hand around as you squinted.
"you're cheating!" you gasped in realisation, grabbing her hand and biting her fingers. "oi! cool it would ya jaws." katie laughed tugging on your ears.
"is it the jager or are your eyes always this pretty?" you slurred, wiggling your eyebrows with a charming smile. "you know if you're trying to charm your way into my shorts baby girl, its not workin." katie whispered against your lips.
"not even a little? cause baby you're so pretty, prettiest girl i ever did see!" you sung out happily, kicking your feet back and forth.
with a shake of her head and a smile your girlfriend leant in and pressed her lips to yours, hooking her hands under your thighs and lifting you back off the counter.
"mcdonalds eaten, makeups off, teeth brushed, kisses given. bed time!" katie pecked your lips a few more times as she carried you back to the bedroom, lowering you into bed and tugging the blanket over you.
"fine." you huffed, wrapping your body around hers as katie flicked off the light and slotted into bed beside you. "if you snore i'm gonna smother you in ya sleep baby girl, just so you're aware." katie smooshed your face in her hand, kissing your forehead with a loud mwah.
"if you smother me i'm gonna come back as a ghost and haunt you forever and ever and ever." you mumbled tiredly into her chest, words barely understandable.
"yeah? well forever with you doesn't sound so bad." katie smiled, her own eyes fluttering closed.
713 notes · View notes