#i have no where else to push things aside

[myrunawaysweets]

I loved your recent post abt human Alastor x reader in the 1920s. Of course this is only a suggestion, what if you continued on with this? Maybe like having them move in with each other, start a family? Perhaps have a tragic ending that resulted both to go to Hell, or maybe reader be a fallen angel! Just all suggestions! Have a great day/night/evening<3

I dont know how long this was in here, I was scrolling through settings to mess around and found this, so I hope you didn't wait too long!

But this is one of my specialties and I'm honestly really flattered that you made a request!

The next day, the cops found a bloodied body in the alley beside the club. The corpse was too disfigured to recognize, knees bashed in backwards, jaw hanging loosely, ribs tearing out of the chest and a smile etched into the poor bloodied face as it hung on the wall.

Surely this was the work of the smiling killer in New Orleans, who else could it be?

No one had ever laid eyes on the killer and lived to tell the tale... except you.

You had been held by the psychopath in a loving embrace, wrapped up in a blanket on his couch.

For some reason, when you looked into this man's eyes, his gorgeous brown eyes as he softly smiled at you... you felt no fear, no urge to run or hide.

Yes you knew he had killed people, that he was no better than a monster... yet you couldn't help but think what made him this way. Everyone knows not to trust a bad apple, but not everyone suspects the tree that bears bad fruit... so you couldn't blame him, after all, why would you blame the apple for the trees wrongdoing.

Instead, you held onto him and stuck close.

Now you peacefully kneaded dough as your loving boyfriend drank his bitter coffee in your bakery as a customer walked in. Marjorie, a nice old lady who came by every second day for a box of beignettes.

"(Y/n)! Have you heard the news?"

You looked up from your dough, flour had stuck to your apron as you wiped your hands "What news, ma'am?"

"Theres been another murder!" As the words left her lips you could see alastor tense up as you studied him.

The poor lady was shaking as she opened her purse "it was a young fellow around your age! He had such a long life ahead of him too..."

You could see alastors hands shakily lift his cup to his lips.

"What a terrible thing! Here, have these on the house, as a thank you for your patronage" you smiled, handing her the box and pushing her change back towards her gently.

The lady smiled with a thank you before turning to leave.

"Say hello to Mr Broussard for me will you?" You waved at her as she closed the door.

As soon as the door closed you slammed the oven shut with the bread inside.

"ALASTOR HARTFELT!"

The coffee spewed from his lips as he stood up to face you "honey listen-"

"Don't you 'honey' me! You promised you'd stop this!" You placed your apron on the counter as you circled around to meet him at the cashier "You said you were out to go hunting!" You poked his chest as you cornered him.

"(Y/n) it wasn't a lie! I was hunting! For the scum of the earth!" Alastor held his hands up in defense from your accusations, trying to reason with you and get back onto your good side.

"You know damn well what I think of your little hunting!" You grabbed your purse and started for the door before he blocked your path.

"(Y/n), dearest, where are you going?" His smile could not hide the panic in his eyes.

"Away from you, I'll be at mimzys until you can decide which one you'd prefer to give up "you pushed him aside and opened the door "me? Or your little 'huntin'?" You slammed the door as you walked to mimzys club.

Just because you didn't care that he did the murders before, didn't mean you were okay with him continuing them. Part of you thought you could eventually get him to see the good in the world again and leave behind this cold blooded killing, he loved you enough to do that at least right? Then maybe when you two grow old and wrinkly, God could open the golden gates for both of you... if your foolish boyfriend could ever stop hurting innocent people...

You sat on the stool with mimzy, drinking a glass of wine.

"I just don't get it! How can he keep choosing to go 'hunting' almost every night, mimz?! Doesn't he see the danger?" You sighed.

The short blonde looked at you "what can I say dollface? Boys will be boys! They've gotta have some sort of hobby, an most of the time, it's a gruesome one! Why can't they just take up knittin or even painting? Always hunting or boxing I say" mimzy took a swig "and every night? That's harsh! Doesn't he see how pretty you are?"

The two of you giggled.

Nights like these were always nice, just you and mimzy sitting in the empty bar, drinking and talking the night away.

"At this point mimzy, I think its better for me to just stay alone though, it doesn't seem like he's changing anytime soon and I don't know how long I can take this" you looked down at the glass, running your finger along the brim...

"Its okay girly" mimzy rested her hand on your shoulder "I'm sure he'll come around eventually, either way, I'm here for ya"

She really was one of your best friends.

Your conversation was interrupted when you heard a slight creak in the floorboards behind you two, making you turn around.

"This place is really getting old, I'm gonna need to find a way to get a new place" mimzy sighed.

The night went by fast as you two talked, and before you know it, you were right back in front of your bakery, sign lights were off as you opened the door, silently clicking the lock before making your way to the upstairs where your humble abode resided.

Alastor most likely went to blow off some steam, he tended to do that after your arguments/fallout.

You had left in such a hurry that you forgot to take out the bread from the oven, but luckily, alastor had seen you bake many times and finished the loaf before placing it on the cooling rack.

By the time you finished downstairs, it was midnight as you started walking upstairs, exhausted from the days work and alastor fiasco.

When you opened your door, you were met with a nervous Alastor standing straight and tense in front of you.

"I have something to say-" you both said in unison.

Alastor seemed to tremble as the words left your lips, still unable to make eye contact.

"I know it's not very gentlemanly of me, but may I go first?" His words almost came out as a mumble as his smile was strained.

You nodded, indicating he may continue.

"Thank you" Alastor took a shaky breath before looking you in the eyes "darling, I know I haven't made it easy for you with my... hunting... but I promise-"

Anger boiling in your blood, you interrupted him "do you know how many times you've told me that lie, Alastor?" Your nose scrunched up in anger as you tried to hold back tears "how many more times am I going to keep hearing this?"

Alastors wide eyes showed the fear he had of losing you, making your heart ache even more than it already was.

"I promise... my dear, this is the truth" Alastor took a gentle step forward, eyes trained on the ground.

placing your hands in his "I've put a lot of thought into it... and although I don't like the idea of being unable to kill those filthy vermin... I realized i can't live in a world without you in my arms"

Alastor ran his fingers gently over your knuckles, a gentle smile placed on his lips, almost dropping to a frown.

"I can change... and I know you want me to, I'll put in the effort to become the man you want, the man you need..." Alastor lifted your hand to his lips, closing his eyes as he placed a soft kiss.

The anger you felt died down, but still hesitant, you asked "how can I be sure you mean it?"

Finally looking back into your eyes again, he knelt down on one knee, still holding your hands "I, Alastor Hartfelt, would like to ask you, (y/n) (l/n), for your hand in marriage, I swear on my mother's grave that I will never take your words lightly, love you with undying devotion, and never kill again" he then rested his forehead onto your knuckles gently before he desperately whispered "please"

This proposal was not exactly practical, considering your argument not even 6 hours ago. There was no ring, no classy dinner, it wasn't how anyone would imagine a marriage proposal, yet here you were, heart beating rapidly as you felt tears fill your eyes.

Your words felt stuck in your throat as you looked into your lovers eyes "do you mean it?"

For what felt like the first time, Alastors smile dropped as his face held a serious expression "with all my heart, ma' cherie"

Your knees buckled as you fell into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you held your lover tightly, whispering out a shaky "Yes" into his chest.

Months went by, the wedding went off without a hitch.

Mimzy was your maid of honor. No one else was really there for your wedding, considering your family had cut ties with you years ago, and all Alastors' relatives were either deceased or overseas.

Nonetheless it was a happy and joyful union.

Alastor had kept true to his word and never killed another human, kissing your shiny ring every night like a reminding prayer.

Your bakery gained popularity since you were now Mrs Hartfelt. But popularity has its downsides... it wasn't long until women started talking about you, jealous of your position as Alastors wife.

The words themself didn't hurt you much, but the constant harassment and inability to leave the house without being called a harlot, that was slowly getting to you.

Alastor had assured you many nights before bed that things would get better, and if need be, he would give up his career as a radio host. The poor man would do anything for your happiness, anything to assure that you'd stay his forever...Even kill if you'd permit him to.

But there was only so much Alastor could do... it wasn't until one evening when you failed to show up to your shared home that he began to lose it.

Alastor was on edge, thinking of all the possibilities, you could've been held back at the bakery by a man who held ill intentions, you could be checking in with mimzy or got taken by a jealous fan. So many thoughts raced through his head as he slowly made his way to the door to look for you, eventually deciding against it, sitting back down as he patiently waited for your return...

Except you didn't.

It wasn't until a whole sleepless night had passed when he decided to go search for you. But of course, he came home empty handed. Were you unhappy in this marriage? Did you elope with a man he didn't know about? Did you realize you didn't love him and run away?

The second option was to call the police, something he's never done before.

The police launched an investigation, it was only until a month later, you were found in an alleyway, someone had called the cops about a crazy woman attacking a man, the situation escalated to the man killing her in self-defense.

They found traces of drugs in your blood, filing you as a drug abuser.

your body was frail and malnourished, pale like it had been weeks since you last seen the sun.

Alastor was called to the scene to see if this lady was indeed his wife.

When he arrived, he felt like the world was about to open up and swallow him whole.

As his eyes fell onto your pale lifeless body, something snapped inside of him.

You were never one to use drugs, never one to attack someone for no reason... something was wrong.

He knelt down and held your hand with tears in his eyes. Although he had seen many dead bodies in his life, this was the one body he never wanted to see like this.

He hated how your body was treated the same as the trash that walked the earth, like a lowly peasant when instead, the world should weep for the loss of you.

'This is all wrong' he thought, as he cradled your body in his lap as your blood stained his white shirt, but he couldn't care less as the last ray of light left his dark world.

It was long after your funeral, he hasn't been able to sleep since then. Every night he'd wait until daybreak for your arrival, like this was all some twisted joke.

It wasn't until one day he realized you needed revenge.

Yes, he promised to never kill anyone, but that was when you were alive, when you were beside him, when he was able to fall asleep with you by his side every night, Before you were selfishly taken from him.

He hasn't slept in days, maybe weeks? He couldn't remember... all he knew was that the man needed to pay for what he did to you...

It took a while but he eventually found the lying heathen.

There he was, sitting at mimzys bar, the same bar he met you, sitting on the same stool that YOU would sit on... it made Alastor sick watching this man live like he didn't take you away from him.

Alastor walked in, and sat beside the wretched man.

"You seem familiar" Al questioned, sipping on his whiskey.

The smug bastard grinned before turning to him "I'm the hero that took down that crazy bitch not long ago"

It took all of Alastors' willpower to seem calm and oblivious.

"My, you must be quite the hero then, let me buy you a drink and you can tell me ALL about it" Alastor motioned for a drink to be served, and the unknowing bastard fell right into Alastors wicked game.

It didn't take long to say the least. This prick was an easy target, and now here he was, being buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere.

You surely would not be happy with your dear husband actions... but who could stop him now?

For months, the spilling killer of New orleans went on a rampage, almost no one was safe, not even dear old Marjorie...

Eventually, alastor had killed all the men and women involved in your kidnapping and drugging... and here he was, burying the last one...

What would he do now? You weren't there for him to return to... all his plans revolved around your future with him

I guess all he could do now

.

.

.

Was Die

As if on cue, a bullet pierced Alastors skull straight through his forehead... as everything went black...

Hello! I've been working on this for a while now, at least a week, and I think I'm just going to make another part for this, keep an eye open for it cause it will hold the afterlife of these two lovers!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #human alastor x reader #human alastor

[sosa2imagines]

Misunderstanding. Part 2.

Warnings- Angst, ex being mean, misjudgment. Slight assualt, Steve being mean, kissing another person. -----------------------------------------------------

Tony's parties are always extravagant, endless drinks, lots of food and strangers ready to show off and flirt. Especially with Steve and Bucky. Bucky? You don't mind, Nat can take care of him. But Steve? Hell no! stay the fuck away from him.

You wore a nice blue gown with slit in the side, pairing it along with the chain Steve gifted you.

As you went down to the party hall, you saw everyone was looking glamorous. Nat was fierce as always, Bucky and Thor dashing, Sam looking handsome in his suit, Wanda breathtakingly beautiful, Tony as usual stunning.

But your eyes were locked on one man. The Captain, looking hot in dark navy-blue suit. You thanked all the holy things, that you both were matching tonight. His eyes find yours and a small smile comes on his face, but he is distracted by someone. That smile made you forget about your little incident in the bedroom, maybe you misread him? maybe you both can talk about it? 

“Y/N!!!” Thor yells “You look lovely. May I know where you found a such pretty dress? So, I may buy one for my Jane.” Adorable Thor always melts your heart. He is literally a kid, man child. “Thor I would love to help you, even you look dashing…” he blushes at your compliment and pouts “Thank you.”

You were smiling, when you turn your gaze back at Steve, you caught Steve's eyes. But this time he was giving you a stoic look, like he is irritated. You try to think to yourself, what made him angry?

As you were thinking, you heard your name being called. “Kid you look lovely” you turn around and saw Tony smiling at you. “Thanks Tony” you smile. “So what do you think?” He raises his brows, expecting a nice answer. “Nice party. Nothing to big and people only we know.” you smirk, making him roll his eyes at you. “Yeah you wanted nothing fancy, so your wish is my command...” he smiles and this time you roll your eyes at him.

“Just few people, only we know?” “Our mutant friends are here…” before Tony could finish rest of his sentence, bunch of drunk laughter distracted you both. Steve was one of them.

 But he can't get drunk, so that means he was drinking something else. Something special from Asgard. You had no problem with that. But the people or should you say one particular person, he was hanging with was a problem.

“You said mutant friends!” “Yes I did…” “He is not..!” “I know and I swear I did not invite him!!!” “Mutant friends means he is invited Tons!” “Shit Steve was working with Charles, he must have invited Erik.” “Steve is drinking asgardian drink with my ex Tons!” “I hate him as much as you do…” “Tons we need to stop Steve and get him the fuck away from Erik!” Tony nods and you both went to get Steve.

“Steve lets go” you hold his arm, trying to pull him away. Steve just looked at you, yanking his arm free and took another sip of his drink. This was a perfect opportunity for Erik to open his drunk mouth. “Y/n still the same. Won't let others have a good time.” he smirked, taking a sip of his own drink. “Erik still the same prick.” You roll your eyes, keeping your focus on Steve. Tony right behind you.

“You know? I can lift her without touching.” Erik smirks, talking to an almost getting drunk Steve. “No ways” Steve gasp, looking at him in awe. “Ok you need to slow down Capsicle!” Tony interrupts, trying to get things in control. “No Tony! You need to stop.” Steve whines and looks back at Erik, “Erik show us your trick...” Steve begs and Erik laughs, as he uses his mutation on your chain to lift you up in the air.

Steve and Erik just laugh. Tony was trying his best to get you down. “Say please darling…” Erik hisses, looking at you like a predator.

You close your eyes and try to ignore the joke being made out of you. Tony pushes Erik aside, causing him distraction. Making you fall on the ground. Tony helps you, to stand up and you quickly ran to the balcony.

“You drunk idiot! Can’t you see what this jerk is trying to do?” Tony yells at Steve, getting angry for insulting you. “Tony you are no fun!” Steve mumbles. “You need to apologize now!” Tony tells him, but Steve just shakes his head no and leaves. 

On the balcony, you were trying to ease your mind. Letting the cool breeze do its magic, of making you forget all that happened so far.

But guess more insults were written for you tonight. Erik came right behind you.

“Hello love.”

A chill ran down your spine, hearing his voice, calling you with the nickname, making you want to puke.

“Don't call me that.” You snap at him. “Why not, love?” he teases. “Erik please leave me alone” “Why you always prefer me near you…” he smirks getting closer.

You try to leave, but he blocks your path coming way too close to comfort. “Erik what are you doing?” “Don't tell me you don't want this? I have seen, how that guy has been treating you.” “You have known him for few days, you have no idea how he is, as a person.” You defend Steve, no matter what you both are going through at the moment, Steve has always treated you like a queen. How dare anyone assume anything bad about him?

���Just go away…mmm?” Erik brushes his lips against yours, going in for a kiss. It takes you by surprise. But you are quick to push him, giving him a tight slap. This angers Erik. He uses his mutation, to pull you off the ground, making you choke. The lock of the chain starts burning your skin, you knew it would leave a huge bruise, if you manage to survive that is.

“Erik stop I can't breathe” your voice is barely a whisper, but too drunk and angry he ignores your pleas.

Thank god, for Tony and Thor who came just in time. Thor tackles Erik to the floor, making you fall, coughing for oxygen supply. “Thor take her inside I will deal with him.” Tony tells him. Thor nods before going to pick you, but you gently tell him not to. “Thor I..I can walk..” you tell him.

He gives you a soft smile and holds your hand and your waist to support you to walk. As you both went inside, Thor makes you sit on the couch “Sit I'll get you some water…” he tells you, giving your forehead a kiss. You smile, grateful for his caring nature.

Little did you know; Steve was watching you and Thor. Since he didn’t know what has happened. He made his own calculation, based on his jealousy and drunken state. He saw the bruise on your neck. So, he adds one on one, creating an assumption of his own.

You were looking around, hoping to find Steve. As your gaze finally spot him, you saw Steve looking at you with anger. You furrow your brows in confusion, but something catches your eyes. Your gaze shifted, to the woman next to him. It was Laurie, Andy Barber’s wife, one of Tony’s attorney.

She was literally standing way to close to Steve, almost stuck like a superglue. She was flirting with him, moving her hands all over his upper body. She sees where Steve was staring. She smirks at you grabbing Steve's face as they both kiss.

Your body freezes seeing what was happening. Steve the man you love, who won't do anything bad even by mistake, was making out with someone else. You couldn’t even breathe. Like someone is drowning you in the pool. Your vision was getting blurred with tears, yet the image of them kissing was like a punch in the gut.

Thor came to you with a glass of water. As he touched your shoulder to get your attention, you broke form the frozen state. You just ran towards your bedroom, with Thor hot on his heels right behind you.

As you escape the scene, you couldn’t know what was really happening.

Truth is, Steve was slowly getting bit sober, but still drunk when Laurie grabbed his face. He did turn around to look at her, but he never intended to kiss her. She just pushed herself on Steve, making it look like the kiss was mutual and equally passionate.

Steve did push her away and looked at your direction. But by that time, you were already heading out, with Thor following behind you, making Steve angrier.

He had others thing to focus upon right now. “What the hell are you doing?” Steve yells at Laurie, she just seductively smiles at him, “Come on don't be shy you liked it...” “No I did not!”  “You were not minding me flirting with you, so what happened now? Scared of your girlfriend?” she asks in disbelief, trying to provoke him. “I was not even listening to a word you were saying, and I'm not scared of her, I love her!” It was the truth Steve was not scared of you, he was scared of losing you. He loves you a lot and he would rather die, than losing you.

“Are you kidding me?” she yells at him, feeling dejected. “No!” Steve answers, truthfully. “You are pathetic!” “Maybe, but I'm not cheating on my partner, go back to Andy please.” He pleads and Laurie scoffs, leaving him alone.

When Steve heads back to your share room, he stops in his tracks, when he sees you and Thor talking.

Thor had managed, to calm you down. Even though you didn’t tell him about Steve. You were grateful, he didn’t ask any questions.

“Are you sure you are fine?” “Yes I'm fine just tired...” “Y/n you can tell me anything, you know that right?” “Yes Thor.” you smile, happy to have a friend like him.

As Thor and you hug each other, Steve clenches his fists in rage.

“I'll see you tomorrow, good night Y/n” Thor smiles, before heading out of your room. “See you tomorrow. Don't be late, good night Thor.”

Thor leaves but stops to talk to Steve “Take care of her my friend, she is precious.” Thor winks at Steve and leaves. Steve locks the door behind him, giving you an arrogant look.

“Now Thor is going to tell me to take care of you?” “He was being nice, Steve.” “Yeah right he is always nice to you.” Steve rolls his eyes. “He is nice to everyone, what's wrong with you?” “What's wrong with me? What is wrong with you huh?” He yells on your face.

“Steve you are clearly still drunk, let's talk in the morning when you have sobered. I'm tired too.” “Of course... Thor made you tired.” He scoffs. “Excuse me? What the hell does that mean Steve?” “It is, what it exactly is Y/n! I'm not blind, I saw you two hugging every minute, that hickey on your neck, what is it huh?”

“Steve! You are crossing the limits; you are drunk let's not talk anymore.” You plead, but Steve is not in the mood to listen. “I want to talk! And what are you going to say? You can't hide what is visible to the eye...”

“How dare you assume I’m cheating on you? I love you and only you, till my very last breath! Thor was just comforting me like a friend. We did nothing wrong, behind anyone's back and as for the mark? You can thank your new friend Erik for that! And unlike you Steve I did not kiss someone else.”

“Yeah she was beautiful.” He says out loud, without even thinking, how you might feel. Your mind goes in the dark region, your insecurities tying to come out.

 You slammed the bedroom door hard and went to sleep in the lounge which was thankfully empty. You cried yourself to sleep, while the argument and drinking took a toll on Steve. He ended up sleeping in his suit, collapsing on the bed straightaway.

Part 1 - Part 3

(Hey lovelies, comments, feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated. Have fun all.)

TAGLIST- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624

#chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader fluff

[sweetcherrywrites]

together — p. lahote

summary: after her confrontation with paul, y/n decides to just avoid him. however, things can never seem to go the way she wants them to.

word count: 1.9k

author’s note: sorry about the long wait. hope you enjoy this.

part one: here

“look just leave me alone, alright? i don’t wanna talk to you.”

it was all she could think about.

“no you don’t.”

the way he responded when she asked whether she meant something to him.

“i don’t care about you. i just kept you around because i didn’t wanna hurt you and i knew that didn’t have anyone else. but now i’m done. i’m not doing it anymore.”

that was what did it.

all she could think about were the hurtful words that he told her, how her heart broke with each thing he said.

she couldn’t understand what she did so wrong that he would say those things to her. she had guessed that it had something to do with his involvement with sam uley and jared cameron and the fact that they cut ties with basically everyone in their lives and only hung out with each other.

she was hurt whatever the reason was.

eventually that hurt turned into anger.

after everything they’ve been through, he just abandoned her? tossed her aside like she meant nothing? hurting her without feeling even an once of remorse?

it made her even more angry every time she thought about it. she wanted to confront him again, demand that he tell her what was going on and not letting him walking away until he did so.

but she didn’t.

instead she decided to avoid him at all costs.

if he had decided that he didn’t want her in his life, so be it. there was nothing that she could do about it.

no matter how much she wanted to.

that didn’t stop her mind from thinking about him though.

no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

it was even worse at night, when it was silent and she couldn’t sleep, so she was forced to do nothing but think about all the moments that they had together and everything that led to up to him disappearing on her. it was all she could do.

kind of like now.

right now, she was laying on her bed, thinking about what he could be doing right now. probably with jared or sam like always, since apparently that had something that she didn’t for him to just up and leave her for then without a second thought.

she rlly didn’t want to give up, but what was she supposed to do?

paul made his choice. he didn’t want her around.

he never did. he said it himself.

“i just kept you around because i didn’t wanna hurt you and i knew that didn’t have anyone else.”

the only thing she could do was avoid him.

no matter how much it hurt..

despite her decision to avoid paul, there was one place she couldn't stay away from: la push beach.

it held too many memories, too much comfort, to let him take that away from her. so, against her better judgment, she found herself there, seeking solace in the crashing waves and sandy shores.

she settled down with a book, hoping to lose herself in its pages and forget, if only for a moment, the turmoil inside her. for a while, it worked. the sound of the ocean drowned out the noise in her mind, and she allowed herself to relax, if only slightly.

but then, just when she thought she could escape him for a moment, she saw him. paul, along with sam and jared, playing soccer not far from where she sat.

her heart clenched at the sight, memories flooding back of happier times spent together.

she tried to ignore them, to focus on her book and pretend they weren't there.

but clearly fate had other plans.

a stray ball rolled her way, and before she could react, paul was by her side, retrieving it.

“uh..i'm sorry about that…are you alrig-”

their eyes met, and in that moment, everything changed. paul froze, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity she couldn't comprehend.

she felt a mixture of shock, confusion, and overwhelming emotion wash over her. she wanted to run, to escape the sudden intensity of his gaze, but her body refused to move.

she couldn’t take it anymore. the longer she stayed there, the more the memories of their last interaction came rushing back, reminding her of the pain he caused her.

she forced herself to stand to her feet. she had to get out of there.

“wait, please. i need to explain.”

gathering her things in a hurry, she stood up, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. she shook her head, unable to bear his words.

“i don't want to hear it, paul,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves.

turning away from him, she walked briskly back the way she came from, wanting nothing more to be at home in bed. she wished she never came.

she could feel his gaze on her back, but she didn’t turn around. instead, she kept walking, leaving behind the echoes of his apologies and the shattered pieces of her heart on the sandy shore.

instead, she left him exactly how he left her.

alone.

she continued to avoid paul, despite his persistent attempts to talk to her and explain. he would blow up her phones with calls and texts, begging her for a chance to explain, but she just ignored them, opting to put her phone on silent. he had showed up at her door, knocking and pleading for her to listen, to give him a chance. but she couldn’t bring herself to face him, not after the hurtful words he had spoken.

however, one rainy day, as she lay in bed, trying to escape the memories that haunted her, she heard a persistent knocking at her window.

she didn’t have to guess who it was on the other side.

with a heavy sigh, she pulled back the curtain to find paul standing there, his expression determined.

“please, just let me explain. i won’t leave until you hear me out.”

she contemplated it for a moment. she wanted to just close the curtains and ignore him, but she knew that he would be true to his word and not leave and she really didn’t want him outside of her window all day.

reluctantly, she opened the window, letting him in. he stood before her, shirtless, his tattoo on display on his right shoulder.

she crossed her arms, a defensive stance, and asked, “what do you want, paul?”

paul took a step closer, his eyes pleading. “i’ve been trying to explain, but you won’t listen. please, just give me a chance.”

she scoffed. “why should i let you explain after everything you said?”

he sighs, “i didn’t mean anything i said. please know that. i’ve been trying to protect you. i couldn’t tell you before because i had to keep you safe.”

she furrowed her brow, confusion evident in her eyes. “protect me from what?”

paul hesitated, his jaw clenched with the weight of his words. “come with me. i’ll show you.”

she hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. but then, with a nod, she quickly grabbed a jacket and slipped on her shoes before following him outside.

they walked in silence, the only sound the crunch of leaves beneath their feet. finally, they reached a secluded clearing, under the thick cover of clouds.

paul turned to face her, his expression solemn. “have you ever heard of the tribe legends? about how we can shape-shift into wolves?”

she looked at him in disbelief, her brow furrowing. “are you really about to tell me that you can turn into a wolf?”

paul met her gaze, unwavering. “just let me show you.”

paul took a step back, his muscles tensing as he began to undress. her eyes widened for a moment, but she decided against saying anything.

his body started to shake uncontrollably, wisps of smoke curling around him. she watched in astonishment as his form began to contort, his muscles rippling beneath his skin. then, with a sudden burst of energy, he transformed into a large silver wolf before her eyes. her breath caught in her throat as she took a step back, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was witnessing.

but as the wolf approached her, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, a feeling of familiarity overcoming her.

tentatively, she reached out a hand, brushing her fingers against the wolf’s fur. it nuzzled against her, its eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“okay… okay, I believe you,” she whispered, still slightly in shock.

as paul shifted back into his human form, his features softened, and he stood before her once again. she stared at him in astonishment, her mind still reeling from the surreal experience.

after a moment of silence, paul reached for his clothes, his movements deliberate yet somehow hesitant. with each garment he put back on, the reality of what she had just witnessed sank in deeper, leaving her speechless.

she watched in silence as he dressed, her mind racing with questions yet unable to form coherent words. the forest seemed to hold its breath as they stood there, the weight of their shared revelation hanging heavy in the air.

paul swallowed hard, the weight of his confession heavy on his shoulders. “i couldn’t tell you because… because I was under sam’s orders.”

her heart sank at his revelation, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. “so, why now? why are you telling me this now?”

paul took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers as he tried to find the right words.

he hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. “because… because i imprinted on you, y/n. it’s you, it’s always been you.”

her eyes widened in disbelief, her mind struggling to comprehend the weight of his words. “imprinted? what does that mean?”

“you know when everything just falls into place, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly? that’s what imprinting is like. it’s not love at first sight, but more like... suddenly everything makes sense. you become whatever they need you to be—whether it's a protector, a lover, or a friend. it’s like the world shifts, and they become your center.”

she listened intently, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions—confusion, disbelief, but also a strange sense of hope.

“and it's you,” he continued, his voice soft but unwavering. “it’s always been you.”

her eyes brimmed with tears as she took in his words, the weight of his confession lifting the veil of uncertainty that had clouded her mind.

“i don't know what to say,” she admitted, her voice choked with emotion.

paul reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “you don't have to say anything. i just needed you to know... i love you, y/n. i always have, and i always will. and it’s not just because of the imprint. it’s always been you. i didn’t mean any of the stuff that i said before. i thought i was protecting you. you mean everything to me.”

her breath caught in her throat at his confession, her heart swelling with a love she never thought possible. she looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his feelings reflected back at her, and knew in that moment that she felt the same.

“i love you too, paul,” she whispered, her voice filled with conviction.

as they leaned in, their lips met in a tender kiss, sealing their love and their destiny together. in that moment, they stood in each other’s arms, their hearts beating as one. in that moment, they stood together.

i really hope you guys enjoyed this. i know that it was longgg overdue.

#paul lahote #twilight #angst #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #twilight imagine #𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬❦ #paul lahote angst #fluff #the twilight saga #paul lahote fluff

[chaotic-super]

Joining The Superfriends - Chapter 28

AO3 Link

“Alex, where’s Lena?”

Alex pushes back on Kara’s shoulders, stopping her from trying to sit up and get out of bed for at least the sixth time in less than two hours. “She’s got a lot on her plate and I think she needs some time to come to terms with everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“She sat by your side for five days straight, Kara. She spent most of that time doing nothing but worrying about you and hasn’t taken the time to properly process what happened with and to Lex. Her brother just died and that will impact her life massively.”

Kara closes her eyes, trying to get the image of Lex’s corpse out of her mind. “Yeah. That’s a lot. Is she mad at me?”

Alex looks down at her sister’s panic-stricken face. “No, no, of course not. She understands, and she actually told Kelly that she’s grateful it wasn’t her that did it, even if she hates that you now have to carry that burden.”

“So she’ll be back?”

“I’m sure she will be,” Alex confirms. “I’ll text her soon and see if she has an approximate time, but hopefully she’s decided to get some proper sleep in her own bed. She’s been pushing herself to the limit to be with you while you were unconscious. I think it’s probably all just caught up with her now.”

Kara nods slowly. “I get it. I still wish she was here, but she should look after herself.”

“It’s ok to want that, Kara. There’s no shame in wanting things. It’s only when you push someone else’s feelings aside for your own that you’re being selfish. Hell, sometimes we deserve to be selfish. As much as I want to push you to do that right now, Lena needs some time. She really does.”

“Ok…just,” Kara pauses momentarily, trying to find a nice way to word her next sentence. “Can you keep everyone away from me for a while?”

“Everyone or Mon-El?” Alex raises her eyebrow at her little sister.

“Both. I don’t want to deal with Mon-El right now and I don’t want to be interrogated by Winn either. I just want to rest for a while and try to wrap my head around everything.”

Alex squeezes her hand softly. “Ok, I can do that. I’ll tell everyone you’ve gone back to sleep. You should actually do that.”

Shaking her head, Kara snuggles into her pillow. “I don’t know if I can do that. I’m pretty achy and my mind is just everywhere. “I might read for a while. Can I borrow your tablet?”

Alex grabs it and swipes away all her open windows before handing it over. “I’ll leave you to it because you’re obviously not ready to talk yet and I’d be wasting my breath trying to get you to. Shout me if you feel weird. We’re pretty sure the kryptonite is all out of your system, but you’re not fully healed yet. It’s important you do.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to go and entertain everyone so they stay out of your hair. You owe me one.”

“I think I owe you more than one.” Kara smiles at her softly. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

“Always,” Alex promises, backing out of the med bay.

“Oh, and Alex?”

“Yes, Kara?” Alex sighs fondly.

Kara clutches the tablet to her chest as she peers over at her sister, her hair falling in her eyes and blocking her vision somewhat. “Are Sam and Jack coming?”

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know, why?”

“Lena should have her friends here to support her. Especially now. I know Sam works at Luthor Corp, so there’s probably a huge mess for her to clean up now Lex is gone, but surely at least Jack can come?”

“I’ll give them a call.”

“Thank you.”

“Now rest.”

“Ok,” Kara replies softly as Alex finally retreats out of the room.

With her sister gone, Kara leans back, not even turning on the tablet in her grasp, too preoccupied thinking about the mess Lena has to deal with now. Between Lex’s death, the destruction of the city, the deaths of all the civilians and dealing with Luthor Corp, Lena’s plate is so full it’s overflowing. She just hopes Lena will let her be there for her through it all.

-

Lena pulls the duvet around herself more firmly, then takes a moment to flick her damp hair out of her face. The shower was nice, but trying to reach over her shoulder to coat her healing wounds with anti-septic cream afterwards wasn’t. It’s done now though, even if it did wear her out. She really wants to be back at Kara’s side, but now that she knows she’s awake, she doesn’t feel as panicked. There’s not the same pit in her stomach or the little voice in her head telling her that Kara might not wake up. She just feels lighter. Lighter but tired.

She knew as soon as she made it back home that she would end up in bed for a while before going back to the Tower. She just needs a breather. It doesn’t help that she knows that when she does go back, she has to fight against Kara’s ex, who apparently hates her. The revelation that Kara once bitched about her family is neither here nor there. She couldn’t care less really. After all, who hasn’t bitched about her family at this point? What bothers her is that Kara’s ex decided it was alright to try and start a fight over Kara’s bed right after she just woke up from a five-day coma. That she can’t overlook.

Personally, she’s got nothing against the guy. He can say or think whatever he wants about her. What he can’t do is make Kara’s life harder or make her uncomfortable in any way. Who even comes to visit their ex after a near-death experience anyway? Someone who wants to worm their way back into her life, that’s who. Like hell is Lena going to sit back and let that happen. They might not have had the chance to make it official yet, but she’s pretty damn sure they’re at least seventy percent of the way there.

Allowing her eyes to droop closed without resisting the urge to sleep for the first time in days is a kind of bliss Lena can’t describe. It’s been long awaited just as much as she dreaded it. She doesn’t get to enjoy it for long though because she barely lasts five minutes before she’s off into the dream world.

Her mistake comes with not silencing her phone before going to bed. She should know by now that if Sam and Jack can make her life worse in any way, they’ll do it.

“What do you want?” A groggy Lena answers her phone, pissed that she’s barely slept at all and she’s already been awoken.

“That’s not very nice.”

“What’s not very nice is being awake for almost five days straight with only crappy naps between. I just got to sleep. I’ll call you back when I wake up again. Good night.”

“Oh no, the fuck you don’t.” Sam harshens her voice. “As much as I hate that you’ve barely slept, this is important.”

Lena huffs and rolls onto her back, kicking her legs against her mattress like a stroppy teen. “But Sam…” She whines.

“No, this has to do with Luthor Corp. Lex’s death certificate has been filed now. That means that legally, the company is now yours. You just have to come and sign on the dotted line. You’ll have to come to Metropolis though.”

“And you couldn’t have waited a little longer for me to sleep before asking me to come to another city in the midst of nobody being able to get anywhere due to the fact that National City’s airport literally got flattened by the weird-ass leg of Lex’s spider ship?”

Sam clicks her tongue and sighs down the line at her. “Lena, I appreciate that you’re not having a good time right now, especially knowing your brother is dead. I know you cared for him even after everything. I’m sorry for that. I’ve bought you as much time as I could with Luthor Corp, but there’s already talks of your mother trying to find a way to get her hands on the company.”

“Let her have it, Sam. I don’t want it.”

“I know you don’t, but you can’t let your mother have that power. She’s just as bad as Lex was, and look at what he did.”

Sam can practically hear Lena’s brain whirring down the phone.

“I just don’t know if I can do it, Sam?”

“Not even just for as long as it would take for you to find someone you trust to run it?”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t run it, you know that. I have Ruby.”

Lena sits up with a frown, propping her pillow up behind her haphazardly. “I know. I just…I don’t know how to run a company. I can build things, I can fix things, I can give a mean right hook. I don’t know how to run a company.”

Lena can hear the shuffle through the line as Sam shrugs. “That’s why you’ll have help. I know you’ve got a damn good team on your side back in National City, but you’ve also got a pretty good one here too. I’m with you, Jack is with you, and you’ve got a whole team of literal superheroes with you. You can change the world for the better now, Lena. Don’t waste your shot.”

There’s a brief silence on the line.

“Ok, fine. I’ll figure out how to get to Metropolis as soon as possible.”

“I’d say just use Super-air. I can say first-hand that she offers a first-class experience.”

Lena clears her throat. “I’ll ask J’onn. She’s…”

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad. She only just woke up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Lena sniffs quietly. “I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”

“Good. I love you.”

“Love you too, Sammy.”

-

Lena rubs her eyes, still awfully tired but feeling at least a little better compared to when she went to sleep.

Grabbing her phone, she sees that she managed to get almost six hours of rest, and that’s much more than she was expecting, so she is happy with that. She just has to get through her list of things to do that’s a mile long.

She squints at her notifications and sees that she has a handful of texts to answer, most of them from the Superfriends just checking in with a couple from Jack too, telling her that if she doesn’t let him know when she’s in town so they can get drunk together, he’ll throw a hissy fit.

Alex’s text sits right on top, so she figures she can answer her and she’ll let the others know. Jack takes days to answer texts so he can’t say anything about a bit of tardiness in responding. She can handle him later.

She drags herself out of bed, stretching out her stiff back and dripping her jaw to let out a yawn that makes her jaw crack. “Ok, so I just have to make sure Kara is alright, potentially fight her ex and take over an entire company before coming up with a way to help rebuild the city. That’s only four things. That’s not too bad.” Staring at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, she sighs. “Who am I kidding? This is going to be hell.”

Lena rolls her shoulders, trying to get rid of some of the stiffness there, and then she nods at herself in the mirror. She’s got work to do and moping won’t help anyone.

She gets dressed as quickly as possible before brushing her teeth and washing her face. The quicker she can get to the Tower, the faster she can get things rolling, and the quicker it’ll all be over.

As quick as she wants to get there and sort everything though, she still has a lot on her mind and she needs to take a moment to take everything in. Walking to the Tower, she stares at the damage left on the city. Damage that definitely wasn’t there when she moved here. Damage that she is partly responsible for. If she hadn’t moved here then none of this would have happened. If she hadn’t moved here, her brother would be alive. If she hadn’t moved here, Kara wouldn’t be hurt.

“Lena, I’m so glad you’re here.” Nia bumps into her as she walks out of the front door to J’onn’s P.I. firm. “Everyone is upstairs. We’ve spent the past hour or so figuring out the best way to help with the clean-up of the city. I think your big brain could do us some major favours in figuring out the best place to start.”

“Sure.” Lena nods. “Where are you going?”

“Just grabbing coffee and breakfast. You want me to grab you some too?”

Lena forces a smile onto her face. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.”

Nia grimaces. “I absolutely won’t do that. Alex gave me a very colourful threat because she’s caffeine-deprived and hangry. It’s better for everyone if I hurry.”

Lena chuckles and the fake smile turns genuine, just for a second. “That’s probably for the best then. See you soon.”

“Bye.” Nia waves, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

Lena’s shoulders sag as she wanders across the room and watches the elevator appear before her, glancing behind her for a moment before she steps inside.

Peering through the elevator doors, she realizes it’s in full view of the front window. She should really tell J’onn to do something about that. Anyone could walk past at the wrong moment and see something none of them want some randomer to see.

She sinks against the back wall as the doors close, letting her eyes fall shut as the gentle motion reminds her of the sleep she missed out on. Now, she kind of wishes she’d tried to get a couple more hours of rest before coming in, but she figures there’s no rest for the sister of the wicked.

Alex and Kelly are sitting in the main area as she steps out into the space. “Hey.”

“Hey, how are you?” Kelly asks, nothing but kindness and sincerity written across her face.

“I’ve been better. I managed to get a few hours of sleep so I’ll count that as a win.”

Alex frowns at her, her arms folding. “Why am I sensing a but?”

“Because there is one.” She shrugs. “With Lex dead, Luthor Corp is now mine, as we already knew. What I didn’t realize was how little time I have to get over to Metropolis to handle it all.”

Kelly’s eyebrows lift in shock. “You have to go to Metropolis?”

“Unfortunately.” Lena sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, stressed at the very thought. “I’ll have to see if J’onn is willing to fly me over. Sam called and told me there’s already talk of my mother trying to take the company. The only way I can stop that is by going over and making the switch official. My mother might not be quite as bad as Lex, but I can assure you that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She’s trouble and shouldn’t be in control of a multi-million dollar company.”

Alex uses her foot to nudge out the seat beside her. “Come on.”

Lena does as she’s told, plopping down gracelessly. “Sam is doing everything she can to buy me time; that’s pretty much all she’s been doing for the past few days. Luckily, she’s CFO, or else I’d have had to try and find a way to Metropolis even sooner.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

She shakes her head softly. “I doubt it. Just…take my mind off it, just for a few more hours. I saw Nia downstairs, and she said you’re trying to figure out how to handle the destruction. Let me see your plan. I can help with that.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Trading bureaucratic destruction for city-wide physical destruction doesn’t seem healthy.” Alex challenges.

“And running around the city in masks fighting bad guys with alien technology is the healthiest thing a person can do, right?”

“Touché.”

“Can you guys go ten minutes without arguing?” Kara staggers into the room, one arm wrapped protectively around her middle and the other using the doorframe to help her balance.

Alex shoots up to her feet immediately, rushing to her side, Lena not far behind. “You’re not meant to be up yet. You’re still healing.”

“But Alex—”

“No buts, you need more rest and more sunlight. You might be out of the woods kryptonite-wise, but you still have some pretty gnarly wounds that need to heal. Look at you, you can barely stand without wincing.”

Kara pouts at her, hoping to win her sister over, but all she gets is a hard stare in response. That’s not going to get her anywhere. She changes tactics, pouting over at Lena, hoping to garner her sympathy and protection. “I just want to come and sit with you guys.”

Lena shakes her head. “We won’t be long. Why don’t you head back to the med bay and we’ll come and join you soon?”

“If you’re going to be done soon, I might as well just hang out with you guys until you’re done.” Kara bats away the two sets of hands attempting to steady her and usher her back towards the med bay.

Shaking her head, Lena sighs. “Come on. We’ll be ten minutes tops, and we’re just doing boring planning anyway. We just want you to heal as quickly as possible.”

“I know.” Kara swallows harshly and lowers her voice, talking through gritted teeth. “I just don’t think I can heal very well when my ex is busy talking shit about all of our choices right outside the med bay where I have to listen to him bitching.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Of course he is. Kara, what did you ever see in him?”

“A partner whose nose I wouldn’t accidentally break.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lena’s eyes widen.

“It doesn’t matter.” Alex waves her off nonchalantly. “I’ll handle it, Kara. I’ll walk you back to bed and then you won’t have to worry about him, ok?”

Kara’s shoulders drop and she catches Lena’s hand. “Will you come sit with me when you’re done?”

“Of course I will. I won’t be long.”

Kara’s pout disappears, her face brightening like she’s just stepped outside on a sunny day.  “Good, see you soon.”

“See you.” Lena waves her off, worry building in her chest when she notices just how unsteady she is on her feet as Alex guides her away.

-

“Just keep your mouth shut, Mon-El. Now isn’t the time for you to come waltzing in acting like you know everything because you’ve been in the future for a whole five minutes.”

“I just happen to have read the history books, and I know that Luthors just happen to be on the wrong side of history.” Mon-El’s indignant tone cuts through the air and into the med bay, making sure that Kara won’t get any rest today.

“I’ve literally never seen you read a book before.” Winn’s confused voice at least brings a smile to Kara’s face. She’s missed the guy, even if he can be a little annoying and is terrible at keeping her secrets.

Mon-El’s offended gasp rids her of that momentary joy. “I once read Romeo and Juliet. Just ask Kara. There’s your proof, and so what if I haven’t read any history books? I still know that the Luthors aren’t good people. Why are you people acting so dense?”

A loud slap rings through the air, the sound making Kara wince. That was definitely an Alex slap, and Alex slaps are spicy, to say the least.

“What was that for?”

“For one, I know you’ve read that book, and you defiled it by writing nonsense all over the pages, and secondly, we’re not the ones acting dense. You’re the one being prejudiced against someone you don’t even know. You’d think the prince of Daxam would know that your family doesn’t define your beliefs or your morals. That is unless you’ve gone back to your slave-owning ways?”

Kara can just picture him shaking his head cartoonishly and backing away from Alex, trying to escape her harsh words. “Of course not! I would never do that.”

“But you did. Does that mean you’re still a bad person? Does that mean that because of who you are, you’ll forever be a bad person?”

“No! I’m good! I saved the world.”

“So has Lena, but you’re too busy calling her out for actions that aren’t hers that you can’t see that you’re only hurting the people around you. Kara is still healing. She got very badly hurt by Lex and Lena is the one that saved her. Lena protected her. Lena is the reason she’s still alive. You’re just the person stressing her out so badly that she keeps leaving the med bay just to get away from you and your incessant whining. Pull yourself together before I send you back to the future by whatever means necessary.”

If Kara were a betting woman, she’d put money down saying that Mon-El is quivering in a corner looking like a kicked puppy right now. She’s not entirely sure what she saw in him before. Sure, he was kind of like having an excitable border collie around. Cute at times but so energetic and chaotic, he leaves nothing but damage in his wake. Unfortunately, what she saw was his potential to serve the herd. The herd being the people of Earth.

“Let me go apologize to her.” She hears him say, sadness coating his words.

“She does deserve an apology, but you’ve kept her up long enough with your bullshit. Move into another room away from here where you’re bothering her and let her rest. She needs to sleep and recover, not listen to you acting like you know best for everyone around you.”

“But—”

“No buts, get your ass up and get out of here. I don’t care where you go, but you’re not going anywhere near either Kara or Lena unless you have my permission. Understand?”

A silence follows that makes Kara nervous, anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Alex clears her throat. “Understand?”

“I got it.”

“Good.”

Footsteps echo as the three of them filter out of the room and further away from her until she can’t hear them at all. She kind of wishes that her powers weren’t still gone. Clearly, the kryptonite caused a lot of damage if she solar flared, but she’s kind of grateful. There’s no impending crisis right now, which means she has to be on edge without them. She can just enjoy the moment without overthinking it too much. That’s something she doesn’t get to have often, and she intends on basking in the glow of not having the pressure of the world sitting heavy on her shoulders.

She lets her eyes slip closed, but just as she starts drifting off with the warmth of the sunlamps keeping her nice and toasty, she hears footsteps return and with those footsteps comes dread. She knows those footsteps.

“Kara?”

She keeps her eyes closed, praying he’ll get the hint and leave her alone.

“Psst, Kara.” He tries again.

Still, she makes a conscious effort to keep her face relaxed to not give away the fact that she’s awake.

Then her shoulder is grasped and she’s being shaken hard enough to make her gasp out in pain, her eyes finally popping open.

“Ah, fuck!” She grabs at her wounds, now thoroughly pissed and in pain. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I just need to talk to you.”

“Like fuck you do.” Lena’s sharp voice comes from the doorway. “I don’t know what was running through your obviously pea-sized brain, probably nothing of substance, but you’ve got some wires crossed. You just hurt her and woke her up for no good reason when I know that Alex just kicked you out of this part of the Tower.”

“With all due respect, this is between Kara and me.”

“Kara and I.”

“What?”

“It’s Kara and I, not Kara and me. If you’re going to start talking shit, at least be grammatically correct about it.”

Mon-El’s fists clench, and he turns fully towards her, standing directly between Kara and Lena. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You’re just like him, and you’re only going to hurt her.”

Lena’s eyebrow raises, her face nothing short of icy. “Like you just did?”

“You didn’t see what happened. She’s not hurt because of me.”

“So she just yelped in pain from what? Just lying there?”

“Must have done.”

Lena shakes her head as she lets out a short laugh. This guy is a piece of work. She takes a step back and turns her head towards the door. “Alex!” She shouts at the top of her voice.

Just like that, Mon-El turns white. He might be a lot stronger than the average human, but if there’s one person he’s scared of, it’s Alex, and he just went behind her back to do exactly what he’d been told not to do.

Lena can hear Alex’s hurried footsteps getting louder and louder as she approaches, drawing closer rapidly as Mon-El gets visibly more anxious with each step, his hands gripped into tight fists. At the same time, his eyes dart around the room in an attempt to find a way to escape.

Alex storms into the room, not knowing what’s waiting for her but intuitive enough to know that whatever it is, it’s not good.

She spots Mon-El facing off with Lena and knows right then and there that this isn’t going to be a pretty fight. “Who wants to tell me what in the actual fuck is going on?”

Lena clenches her jaw, remaining silent. She wants to see what kind of shit this complete and utter asshole is about to spout.

Mon-El does something Lena wasn’t expecting. He squares up to Alex, his shoulder back, his spine straightening and his fists held firm at his sides as he glares down at the redhead. “She’s dangerous and Kara’s not safe around her. I was doing what I had to in order to keep her safe. She can’t be here if you’re allowing someone like that to be around her. Look at what her brother just did; she could kill her at any moment, and the only one to blame would be you because you let it happen.”

Alex doesn’t hesitate to react. Using her Hand of the soldier, she summons up a boxing glove lined with lead and hits him squarely in the face, knocking him back and right onto his ass.

He cries out in anguish when blood starts to pour from his nose, not broken, unfortunately. “What the fuck, Alex?”

“Stay the hell away from us, Mon-El. I told you to stay away, and yet here you are, coming back where you’re not welcome to accuse someone you don’t know of something they’re incapable of doing. You’re a mess. You’re dangerous. Get the fuck out.”

“You’re not going to ask her what happened?” He throws his hands in the air. “You don’t want to ask her what she did? You seem to like attacking me, but you haven’t even got the full story.”

Alex sighs, dematerializes the boxing glove and folds her arms before turning to Lena. “Is there more to the story, Lena?”

“Yes, he grabbed her and hurt her.”

Alex’s eyes darken instantaneously. “Brainy!”

The Coluan comes scuttling in quickly. “How can I help?”

“Get this piece of shit out of the Tower now before I kill him.”

There’s the barest hint of a nod before Brainy pulls Mon-El off the floor and ushers him to the door.

The Daxamite doesn’t go easily though, pushing back against Brainy’s hands to turn back. “I was getting her out of here because you’re not keeping her safe.”

“I suggest you leave very quickly because I estimate that the next weapon Alex materializes won’t be a boxing glove.”

Mon-El snarls before huffing his way out the door, barely turning his head to spit out one last line as he leaves. “You’re going to regret this when she turns out to be exactly like her brother, just you wait.”

Lena shakes her head at the man, infuriated by his saviour complex and need to villainize her when he doesn’t know a single thing about her other than her last name.

Her gaze meets the side of Alex’s face and she’s shocked by the amount of pure rage she sees there before she remembers that she just told her that he hurt Kara. Kara, who she needs to check on. She turns quickly, rushing to Kara’s side, panicking as she finds the woman on her side, her back to the door. She’s curled in on herself, her hands thrown over her ears protectively and her knees to her chest.

“Kara?” Lena round the bed, crouching next to her so her eyes are in line with Kara’s closed ones. They’re shut so tightly little lines are spreading across her face from the force.

She reaches out carefully, her fingertips just barely brushing against the cowering woman’s wrist. The tiniest bit of pressure causes her to rear back and pretty much fling herself off the bed, landing on the floor in a pile of useless limbs.

“Kara!” Lena cries out, rushing to get to her side. Her eyes instantly rake over Kara’s body in search of injuries. “Are you ok?”

Kara’s hands remain over her ears, but now her eyes are wide open, looking like they might pop right out of her skull at any moment.

“Kara, you’re ok. I promise you, you’re ok.” Lena creeps closer, afraid to touch her in case she reacts badly again.

Alex sprints into the room, and it takes Lena a second to realize that she must have made sure that Mon-El really left this time, or else she would have been in here with them a lot sooner.

“Alex, I don’t know what’s happening. She was on the bed, but when I touched her wrist she threw herself off the other side to get away from me. I don’t know what to do.”

Alex holds her hands out in front of Kara, moving slowly so she can clearly see her intentions. Her hands slowly descend to land on Kara’s forearms, and Lena watches with rapt attention.

Alex’s eyes flicker between Kara’s and Lena’s for a second before she addresses Lena whilst looking deeply into Kara’s eyes. “She’s alright, Lena. She’s going to be just fine. She’s just panicking and overwhelmed.”

Kara stares back at Alex, unblinking and seemingly frozen. Lena can’t help but find it a little odd. Her breathing appears normal, if not a little deeper than usual, but she’s not gasping for breath, not struggling against whatever is happening. She’s just embracing it and riding her way through it.

“What’s happening, Alex?” Lena whispers.

“She’s fine,” Alex responds in a hushed voice, carefully prying her hands down and away from her ears. “She’s just fine.”

“Alex?” Kara whimpers.

“I’m here,” Alex reassures, taking that as her cue to pull her sister into a hug. “Both me and Lena are here and we’re not going anywhere. I promise.”

Lena nods despite the fact that Kara can’t see her face. “We’re not leaving, Kara.”

Tentatively, she reaches out to press her hand to the centre of Kara’s back and lets out a heavy breath of relief when she doesn’t shy away.

They sit like that for several long minutes. Alex holds her tightly while Lena strokes her hand up and down the centre of her back in a slow, purposeful rhythm, completely predictable. Then, Kara leans back, sniffling a little and wiping her eyes before tears can fall. “Thanks.”

“Are you ok?” Lena murmurs.

Kara nods shakily. “Yeah, sorry. It just…I was…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to know,” Alex says, standing up and pulling Kara with her, urging her to get back on the bed. “Lie down. I’m going to have to check you over.”

“I’m good.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m not going to stop worrying until I’ve seen it for myself, so just humour me, alright?”

“Ok.” Kara doesn’t put up a fight, and it’s clear that she isn’t in the right state of mind to be able to for some time yet. “That’s ok. Lena, will you stay with me?”

Lena moves to her side, taking her hand. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Kara hums. “Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to stay here alone, and I don’t think Alex will let me out of here yet.”

Lena had to stop herself from agreeing, guilt already building up in her chest, heavy and uncomfortable. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

A heavy silence fills the room.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Sam called and she can’t put off everything going on with Luthor Corp any longer. I have to go or else the company could fall into my mother’s hands, and she’s just as bad as my brother.”

Kara blinks slowly before tightening her grip on Lena’s hand. “You have to go then. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just call me?”

Lena’s eyebrows pinch together in worry. “I’m sorry, Kara. If I could stay, I would. I don’t even want to go. If I could just leave it and not have anything to do with Luthor Corp or anything to do with the Luthor name at all, I would. I really would.”

“I know.” Kara forces a smile, one that both Alex and Lena can see through.

“I’ll look after her and stay with her.” Alex squeezes Lena’s arm, seeing the conflicting emotions hiding behind emerald eyes. “You do what you have to do and then come back to us, alright?”

Lena hums her agreeance and raises Kara’s hand up, kissing the back of it softly. “I promise I’ll be as quick as I can. This is my home now. National City is my home and I don’t really want to leave.”

Kara holds their joined hands on her belly, her free hand holding onto Lena’s wrist, preventing her from leaving, and Lena’s not about to pull away. Sam can wait a while longer.

Inevitably, she’ll have to go, but she’s happy to stay for as long as she can in the meantime.

Check out more chapters of JTS on my Patreon here!

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x lena #fanfic #cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supercorp fanfic #joining the superfriends #chaoticsuper

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page pt 6(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

Stuck in by the rain, you, Simon, and Sam receive important news over dinner...

Part 5, Masterlist

Image from GIF by tana-the-dreamchaser

Simon followed you up the stairs like a shadow, his steps even but quiet. If not for his hand seeking yours you would have thought him a ghost. He seems to seek you like a moth to starlight and you find yourself relaxing with his close presence. You reach the door at the top of the stairs and push it open to be met with the smell of a simmering spice. You perk up instantly and call out for Sam. His curls pop out of the kitchen and seeing your entwined hands he smiles.

“Are you making what I think you are making?” You ask hopefully, eyes softened towards your friend. You step into the living area and release your hand from Simon’s. He abides by it but lingers close to you, choosing to take in his surroundings. 

The vibes of the apartment are, well, eclectic. Amongst the thriving house plants, SImon can see little bits of you and Sam. The worn love seat a dappled plum color, a plush leather couch, and, he looks at the floor and chuckles, a fox in a sweater welcome mat. You move to the kitchen after asking Simon to make himself comfortable. He nods and moves to the loveseat, taking your backpack off and setting it to the side before taking a seat. He observes further as you step into the kitchen to talk to Sam. 

On the coffee table, there is a vase of sunflowers, the TV stand is an old steamer trunk, and lining the far walls across from the door are books. Upon four shelves is a library’s worth of books and Simon stands and approaches them. Upon further expectation he cracks a smile, the inner panel of the bookshelves are painted the same as the ceiling of the bookstore. A rough hand comes up and he traces the spines of some of the leather-bound books. There are books of all kinds roughly categorized by genre. Littered amongst the shelves are other things, among them, Simon finds things like a cow teapot, a Union Jack mug holding pens, leather-bound notebooks, a dragon beanie baby, and something else that pauses his searching. 

On a desk in the middle of the two sets of shelves is a collection of mechanical parts. The smell of gun oil and steel pulls memories from service and he leans down, turning on the desk lamp to examine it closer. In the middle of the desk is a typewriter. The carriage is set aside from the body of the typewriter and the smell of oil gets stronger. He looks around the table and finds a myriad of cases, some big and others small, mostly belonging to what he assumes to be typewriters. 

You pop your head out of the kitchen to call for SImon but you find him engrossed in his examination. You smile, unsurprised at his curiosity, most visitors are drawn in by the book before stumbling upon your workstation. You step out of the kitchen and call to him. He looks up and turns to you in question. 

“Dinner is ready.” 

You say it with a growing grin as Sam had made enchiladas in a Tex-Mex style you missed. Simon looks back to the disassembled typewriter once more before he approaches you and follows you into the kitchen. If the living area was eclectic the kitchen was more so. Along the walls of the modest space hung pictures of every kind. Along the side wall, under a window was an old dresser or antique buffet that held a beaten-up record player. Along the wall were art prints, old diagrams, and book posters. On the buffet, next to the kitchen table was a collection of tabletop books, big glossy things meant as eye candy. He huffs a laugh at the selection: fox photo collections, Jules Verne releases, and typewriters. 

He turns his attention to Sam who is already sitting at the table, three places set for you guys to eat. Even the cutlery and plates are a mix of wild colors and subtle finery. You move to the stove where a baking dish holds something excellent smelling. Grabbing some oven mitts (fox chefs of course) you take the dish and set it on some ceramic pot holders on the table. 

“I hope you like enchiladas.” You say it with a pleased expression before shooting Sam a nostalgic smile. You motion for Simon to sit and he does before you take the seat next to him. 

You all begin to eat without much fuss, conversation passing in softer words between you and Sam while Simon chimes in every once in a while. However, after about 15 minutes in, Sam pauses as if remembering something. 

You see a look pass over his face before he reaches behind him and picks up a letter off of the counter behind him. He offers it to you and you recognize the handwriting.

“Sofia was here earlier, she looked urgent and dropped this off mentioning for you to read it. Something about a collaboration of some kind for a release over here. She wouldn’t give me more details than that before she was rushing off to her next appointment.”

“Huh,” You work on prying the envelope open gently, “she would normally call.”

Sam shrugs but watches with curiosity as you pull out a typed document. The paper at first touch is heavy, almost a thin cardstock, and the smell of ink and paper is crisp. There is even a wax seal holding the paper close and you want to roll your eyes. The sneaking familiarity seeps into your bones as you swipe a finger under the seal breaking it and unfolding the paper. When you read the heading your stomach clenches. It was from your old company. Something in your demeanor must have changed as you lean back in your chair feeling suddenly winded. Sharp eyes turn to you and Simon and Sam both stop eating.

“What is it? Sam asks with concern, leaning forward in his chair. Simon next to you frowns as your eyes skim the letter, your shoulders getting tenser and tenser. At the end of the letter, you bite your lip before slowly closing the letter and handing it across the table to Sam without a word. He about tears it open and reads it himself. 

“This is bullshit.” These are the first words out of his mouth and he tosses the letter onto the table. You don't reply, instead pushing your almost empty plate aside and putting your head in your hands with a sigh. Simon’s hand finds your knee under the table instantly and you eye him through your hands. There is exhaustion in your eyes, one that is familiar to him. You move to lay your head down with a sigh, leaning towards Simon naturally for comfort. 

“What is it, Dove?” He asks, voice low.

“Read for yourself.” Is all you offer and he does so, reaching a long arm for the letter before reading. 

The letter begins with a ‘greetings’ in a faceless text. Following are niceties and a “wish you are well’. One that you wanted to scoff at, given your last encounter with your previous publisher. He continues over the unnecessary and gets to the meat of the letter. 

… due to the raving success of your last book under our services, we have decided to do a release tour and event of James’s new book under your direction. We have already reached out to Sofia for contact with you.  Given both books' American popularity, we expect such a collaboration to benefit not only you but also White Owl Publishing. We expect James’s arrival in London this Sunday. If you have any questions please reach us at…

Simon frowns and looks at you.

“When the hell did James start writing?” Sam asks you but you just groan and pull yourself up, a hand reaching under the table to squeeze Simon’s in silent thanks. Something serious settles over you,

“I don’t know. Maybe when he started sleeping with the CEO’s daughter.” 

You bite it, voice sharp as a knife. The woman was an accomplished author under her fathers' direction and specialized in YA and new adult romance novels. You used to hold a lot of respect for her when you first joined the company but she soon, after learning of your specialization in children's literature, became downright dismissive. That dismission partnered with a giggly fascination with James, turned you away from her and towards the more quiet of the other authors and editors. However, given her status as the CEO's daughter, there was no escaping her influence, thankfully Sofia was always with you, and due to your focus on children, you didn't have to interact with her much. Other than events like the Publisher’s Gala, and well you know how the last one turned out. 

After the gala, you had learned from one loyal person, a fellow children's author named Sarah that the affair had been going strong for months. She hadn’t known until a drunk Sabrina had bragged on his arm at an after-party that faithful night. She called the moment she discovered your plans to leave and wanted you to know. 

Back in the moment, you debate your options. Given the publication’s no doubt about you after the Gala, you couldn’t risk saying no to this. Why they wanted to associate with a ‘failure and second rate nobody’ you didn't know. You look to Sam, his family's business was now connected with one of the largest publishers in America, and you weren't going to risk their skins because of disgust and fear. A silent resolution lit up your face, Sam, seeing this, grins. 

“You're going to go with this.” It's not a question out of his mouth. A shaky smile hits your face at that. Simon just looks to you, something about your determination makes him want to smile. His hand turns to entangle with yours under the table and you look at him, taking this as his support. 

“Johnny will want to knock some heads” His voice surprises you and laughter bubbles out of your chest. It quiets down to giggles a moment later and you pull your plate back to you. He wasn't wrong. A few tea times after meeting the man you had told the Scot the story of why you ended up in London. His brows furrowed and looking at you he cursed.

“Cheat? On a prize like you lass? Need me to do him in?”

You mention this to Simon in a giggle. He smiles.

“Good man, Johnny is.” 

He runs his thumb over your knuckles and you breathe out as your heart skips a beat, tension draining from your form as you take another bite before nodding in agreement. Simon gives you a small smile before he turns back to his food with a hum, but his hand remains in yours through the rest of dinner. 

--- 

After dinner, you stand up to collect the dishes. Sam gives you a look before shooting up to race you to the sink. You beat him by a foot before splashing him with cool water. He chuckles at you, eyes brightening at your mirthful expression. You hear the sound of a chair and Simon stands. Sam looks at you with a grin and a raised brow before he pulls himself into a stretch. 

He looks at Simon and then back to himself.

“I may have a shirt and some sweats if you’d like to change Simon.” 

The taller man moves around the table and pauses, looks down at his jeans, and gives a nod. With the confirmation, Sam winks at you and leaves the kitchen for his room. You shake your head fondly before going to wash the dishes, but a hand stops you. Simon is next to you then, the proximity quickening your heart once again.

“I’ll do ‘em,” 

is a statement and he nudges you aside gently with his large frame. You realize then just how big he is. While you were by no means tiny, Simon was tall. Sam was easily 6’ but you had to tilt your head to look up at Simon. He started dutifully washing plates without any more comments so you studied the side profile of his face. With a strong jawline cut with a few scars, your eyes focus on his eyes, focused and quiet as he works. The action, so domestic, calms something in you. While you loved being with Sam, you missed being with a partner sometimes, the attraction and the comfort. You loved Sam like a brother and that came with the typical roommate squabbles sometimes, you laugh mentally. You missed James some though despite everything. Having another person to hold was a human element absent in your life. 

But, your heart murmured, there is Simon.

You sigh inwardly, your heart skipping a beat as you envision his smiles. They lit up his face in a way that took the weight of his service, the exhaustion, off his shoulders for even a brief moment. He had seemingly been open, but respectful about some sort of feelings towards you, and you cherished his careful support. 

Your hand on his arm pauses Simon, and his eyes flicker down to yours in question. Without much thought your hand traces what is exposed of his forearm, fingers swirling around the inked skin, you linger a moment. Then, with a steady exhalation from Simon, your hands follow up his arm and over the sleeve, feeling the strength of his bicep Simon stills. His other hand reaches for the hand towel and setting the plate down he pulls back from the sink and turns his attention fully to you. 

You look engrossed in your study of him, like a jeweler over a diamond or precious stone. You lift for a moment seeing the towel and step back, allowing the man to dry his hands before he takes the next step to follow you. Your eyes widen in realization when your back hits the side counter and Simon steps comfortably, naturally even, into your space. 

Your breath catches in your throat when he raises a hand to your face, it ghosts over your cheek before, heart pounding, you lean into his palm. It is rough, worn from years of work, but it's warm, and something deep in you preens at the touch. Honey eyes find yours, widening a moment as you lean in, before lowering in reverence. Here you were, he thought, 

“Sweet thing.” 

It comes out in a whisper and your heart clenches. You close your eyes, raising a hand against his, cherishing the feel of the touch. His heart stutters then when you reopen your eyes and give him a sweet smile. Your hand runs down his arm and the other wraps around his abdomen and you close the space between the both of you with an embrace. His arms drop in surprise, but as your head comes to rest against his chest, they soon engulf you in the scent of leather and smoke. 

With your ear against his sturdy chest, you can hear his heart pick up, you smile to yourself then, happy the effect is mutual. Simon inhales the scent of old books and baked goods and hums, the sound reverberating through you. He chuckles before setting his head on yours just enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. You mutter something and he questions you with another hum. You repeat it a bit louder.

“Want dessert?” The question incites a chuckle from him and his arms loose to look down at you. Something swirls in his eyes, warm like syrup, and his lips quirked up in a smile. 

“Sure, Honey.” The two syllables of endearment are languid and you bask in them like a noon sun. His eyes flicker down to your lips a moment and your breath catches, but the sound of footsteps alerts you to Sam. You know him well enough, he doesn't want to interrupt so you smile at Simon and run your hands up his arms before stepping out of his grasp. Sam enters a second later with a bundle of clothes. His eyes are lit up and after glancing at you he grins at Simon.

“Here you are, Mate.” He gives a mock British accent and hands the bundle to Simon. You then pat the taller man's arm.

“Guest room is down the hall, Sam will show you. There's a bathroom too. I hope you eat cheesecake?” 

You ask him and he just nods before Sam motions to him to follow. Simon gives you one last glance then heads after Sam. Once both men are out of the kitchen you grasp at your pounding heart as your stomach flutters. You felt giddy, a childish wonder in your heart at the affection. Simon was so warm and you felt safe in his arms. You hum to yourself as you pass to the fridge, opening it and examining the inside. 

Beside produce and leftovers sat your quarry, made a day or so ago. There sat a glorious strawberry shortcake cheesecake, made by you. Albeit there was a slice missing courtesy of Sam but the cake was an absolute unit. You pull the covered dish out carefully as Sam pads into the kitchen alone. He leans against the counter as you work and regards you. 

You hum more as you work, relaxing further in his presence, reaching to grab three plates. You then cut modest slices for each of you before sticking the rest of the cake back in the fridge.

“You’re thinking too loud Sammy.”

You then turn to him, a knowing look on your face. What surprises you is the serious look on his, Sam’s arms are crossed as he leans. You set the plates on the table before approaching your friend.

“What’s wrong?” 

Green eyes turn to you, dark as English ivy, and they flicker down to you.

“I think James means trouble.”

It is all he offers. You sigh, taking a seat at the table. You think a moment. You wondered why your manager, Sofia wouldn't have called you, but this seemed like such a sudden onset by your old publisher. Given her sudden rush to leave you wondered where this put Sam’s family. Hearing your story the small publisher was happy to take both you and Sofia under their wing. White Owl Publishing was small, but they had cherished new classics under them. Your eyes flick up to meet Sam’s.

“We can’t risk your family’s reputation. Not after everything they've done for me and Sofia.”

Sam’s jaw clenches and you are taken aback a moment when his muscles tense. Sam had always been the most level-headed person you know. 

“I don’t give a shit after what he’s done to you.” It is firm, Sam stands taller at the statement. You think back to the firm grip on your neck. Showing up at Sam’s door with tears streaming down your face, the choked sobs. It was the first but not the last time the man had laid hands on you. Weeks before the gala was marked with a possession like no other by James. In hindsight making up for his affair but you didn’t and still don’t understand why Sam triggered it. 

“I should have knocked his teeth in the first time he touched you.” 

Sam’s voice is even but you can sense the rage simmering. You get up and go to him seeking to comfort him but you jump when you see the form of Simon at the entrance of the kitchen. Your surprise has Sam turning as well, the simmer broken.

“He grabbed you, Dove?”  Simon’s voice is ice. If you thought Sam was simmering rage, Simon has the look of a soldier. His eyes are dark and his lips are up in a snarl, but he is collected, with a refined rage, trained to kill. You gulp. You nod slowly. 

“In the past month or so before the gala, when I found out he was cheating. James got possessive.” You say it calmly but there is a bubble of anxiety, black and vile, in your stomach. You try to shake it off, but the shadow of the experience hangs over you. Simon, fresh from the shower steps into the kitchen, hands open in an offering. Sam watches as you glance at Simon before stepping into the man’s embrace, something in his chest settling with firm contentment. 

Simon on the other hand wraps you in one arm and uses his hand to smooth down your hair. He rocks you slowly and you melt in his arms. You calm in his arms, staying a quiet moment before running a hand over his shoulder and reluctantly pulling back. You look up to Simon with a shy smile,

“The cake will get warm.”

He lets you go slowly and follows you and Sam to the table. He takes the same seat and is met with a heavenly smell. The smell of vanilla and strawberry draws his eyes to the masterpiece in front of him. Sam offers him a smile before taking a large bite out of the cake that makes you giggle. You look at Simon before taking your own, albeit more modest bite. Simon follows and is met with heaven. Strawberry bursts on his tongue as the combination of heavy cheesecake and fluffy shortcake mix into a powerful combination.

“Fucking hell Love.” Is all he offers and you laugh, not expecting such a reaction from the stoic man. Your laughter is music to his ears,

“Glad you like it, Simon.” 

He could get used to the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. 

End Chapter 6

Taglist!

@ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost, @nexthyperfix

#cod mw2 2022 fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap and reader #simon riley fluff #fanfiction #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #on the same page #Simon riley x you #Simon riley #cod mw2 2022 #john soap mactavish #Protective ghost #Protect

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

I Know (Be a Doll AU)

Vox x doll!reader

CW: Lover Obsession, insults, objectification, mind control, manipulation, codependency (?), AU typical events, Vox being a little shit (he’s in hell for a reason)

Note: Vox is manipulative, possessive, jealous, impulsive, controlling, and harsh in this AU. He can be extremely violent towards reader, and is consistently abusing them either way. He is not a good person! If anyone is sensitive to or may have a negative reaction from these topics, I recommend clicking away now.

Summary: Vox is having a stressful day and overworking himself. You’re a bit clingier today and desperate for his attention/approval/love.

“I love you,” I said softly, plugging in his charging cables with gentle precision. I was careful with the way I moved, desperate not to hurt him. “I love you.”

“I know,” he said with a forced smile- clearly irritated.

“I love you,” I said again, quieter. My heart sank a little at his response, but I pushed it aside. It was to be expected. He was never one for affection when he was like this.

“I know,” he replied, agitated. “Why do you keep saying that?” It was clear he wasn’t going to say it back.

“In case you ever forget,” I said simply. I plugged in another cable, carefully. I received a small electric shock, as usual, and smiled. That was the last one. I pulled away and cupped his face gently. “If I’m not there to say it back, if I can’t say it back, if I ever forget to say it… I love you.”

“That’s stupid,” Vox grumbled, pulling out of my grasp. He pushed me away and turned away from me in his chair. He immediately got back to work, scrolling through his endless screens, looking at countless things. None of it had to do with me. I was effectively being ignored by him, as he continued to work. Despite the fact he was supposed to be charging.

I sighed and hesitated for a moment, debating what to do. I wanted his attention, yes, but that wasn’t what I needed to focus on. He needed to be charging, not overworking himself. “Hey,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be resting, you know.”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he growled, jerking away. “I don’t give a damn, I need to work. Go be a good doll and fuck off somewhere else.”

I faltered, my hand falling away from him, eyes glazing over. I sort of stood there for a moment, staring. He hadn’t given a clear directive, so I was processing what the best course of action would be. I eventually settled for sitting in a chair a bit further away in his office.

Hours after, I still sat quietly in the corner of Vox's lavish office, watching him as he furrowed his brow in frustration, his fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. He had been in a foul mood all day, snapping at everyone who dared to cross his path. I’d kept my head down, sticking to my work, but I knew I was in for a rough time eventually.

"Where is that damn report?" Vox muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the screens in front of him. "It should have been on my desk hours ago."

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to intervene or stay out of his way. I still wanted his attention and his affection, but I knew it wasn’t the right time. I was afraid if I spoke up and offered to help, I’d accidentally become a bother or seem too needy to him. I loved him, and I was terrified that if I made a wrong move I’d be discarded like a broken toy. But when Vox's irritation only seemed to grow, I knew I had to do something.

"Um, Vox?" I ventured cautiously, approaching his desk. "I could try to track it down for you if you'd like."

Vox glanced up at me, his expression darkening. "And why should I trust you to do that? You're just a mindless doll, aren't you? Good for nothing except following orders." He sighed and tapped his fingers in a quicker rhythmic manner. “I can’t believe I have to rely on someone as useless as you. You’d be nothing without me, you know. Completely useless without any orders to follow, without someone to defer to, without someone like me.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, unsure of what to say. I felt a twinge of guilt at his words, at the fact I wasn’t good enough. I’d grown used to being referred to as mindless or even just his doll, so it wasn’t a big deal. What made me feel bad was the fact that I wasn’t providing enough support to him, if he felt this way. It had to be my fault, right? I was supposed to help him. I loved him, and although I didn’t appreciate the insults, there had to be something I could do to make him feel better. I just wanted to help. “I just… if there’s anything I can do… please?”

“Fine,” Vox snapped, giving me a harsh look. “Be a doll and fetch me that report. Devil knows I can’t trust you to do it on your own…”

I felt a familiar haze wash over me the moment the words left his mouth. My eyes glazed over and the tension left my body. Without a second thought, I obeyed, my movements fluid and practiced as I navigated through the office in search of the elusive document. It was a blur, the sounds of Vox's frustrated muttering fading into the background as I focused solely on completing my task.

Eventually, I returned to Vox's desk, the report in hand. But as I approached him, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered within me. I was coming back to myself, since I’d completed my task, but with it came a clear and undeniable fact. I was nothing more than a puppet, controlled by Vox's every whim. I’d accepted this by now, of course, but that didn’t get rid of the small twinge of pain in my chest at the thought. The fact he could throw me away at any moment… it scared me.

Vox snatched the report from my hands without so much as a word of thanks, his scowl deepening as he skimmed through the pages. "Finally," he muttered, tossing the papers aside. "You may go now."

I nodded obediently, retreating to my corner of the room as Vox continued to work, the tension in the air palpable. But despite his harsh words and dismissive attitude, I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for his affection. I finished my work for the day relatively soon, and was left with nothing else to do. I was alone with my thoughts, craving affection I didn’t dare ask for. If I so much as brought it up when he was in this kind of mood? Well, that’d be asking for trouble.

So, I sat in my little corner, still recovering from the dazed state I’d been in after he’d used the trigger phrase. I wrote and drew on some scrap sheets of paper, little hearts and doodles. I wanted his attention, I wanted his affection, I wanted his love and I wanted it now. But I couldn’t have it now. To make up for it, I did the next best thing: writing little lovesick phrases and words on the paper, accompanied by hearts, cute doodles, drawings of us together, and the like.

As the hours dragged on, Vox's frustration seemed to only escalate, until finally, he let out a frustrated growl and pushed himself away from his desk, his shoulders slumped in defeat. My ears perked up and I glanced at him, torn away from my obsessive habits.

"I need a break," he declared, running a hand across the top of his screen, then his antenna, mimicking the way one would run their hand through their hair. He was clearly exasperated. "This is getting me nowhere."

I watched silently as Vox paced the room, unplugging himself from his charging station carelessly. His agitation was clear in his every movement. And then, without warning, he collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. I frowned and set my drawings aside. I examined the charging station. He was running on 15%, low power mode. He’d been at 10% when I helped him plug in hours ago. Usually he charged quickly, so the fact he’d only gained 5% power throughout the entire day meant he was still overworking himself.

I looked over at him again, and hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to approach him. But when Vox's shoulders began to shake with silent sobs, I couldn't resist the urge to offer him comfort. I got him a bottle of water and a snack- I usually brought him coffee, but it wouldn’t be helpful with how drained he was right now. He needed actual rest.

"Vox," I said softly, crossing the room to kneel beside him. "It's going to be okay. You're doing the best you can." I set my offerings on the end table and rested my chin on the couch cushion, inches from his screen. I carefully lifted my hand and booped the center of his screen, playfully. “Boop,” I said, with a soft smile.

Vox looked up at me, his virtual eyes glitch-rimmed and vulnerable. And for the first time that day, I saw something other than anger in his gaze – a flicker of gratitude, perhaps, or even a hint of remorse. I ran my fingers along the ports in the back of his head, knowing the stimulation would help soothe him. It earned me various small electric shocks, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to do make sure he was okay.

"Thank you," he whispered, reaching out to pull me into his arms. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

As Vox held me close, his grip surprisingly gentle, I felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over me – fear, longing, and a strange sense of comfort all mingling together in the warmth of his embrace. And in that moment, despite everything, I couldn't help but cling to him, seeking solace in the one person who held my heart in his hands, even if he treated me like nothing more than a doll.

“I love you,” I said softly, holding him tight. I desperately hoped he wouldn’t ever throw me away. I didn’t want to be discarded like a broken toy when he got bored. I didn’t care how he thought of me, I wanted to be near him, with him, no matter what. I didn’t care what I had to do, what I’d have to endure. I was his doll, and I loved him. He was my entire world. I depended on him. “I love you, I love you.”

“I know, doll,” he said with a small laugh. He smiled fondly, though I couldn’t see. I may not have known it, but I was his favorite little doll, and he wasn’t going to get rid of me anytime soon. He’d never admit it to me, though. “I know.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #x reader #reader insert #my writing #ao3 writer #writing #fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #vox is in hell for a reason #be a doll #vox fanfiction

[snekdood]

if ppl telling you "jewish ppl in israel were already kicked out of other countries and have no where else to go" makes you feel compelled to call whoever said that a "zionist", I really just dont think you give af about jewish ppl's lives quite frankly.

if your "free palestine" means "getting rid" of all jewish civilians in israel I think you're probably just a heartless asshole.

#two state solution ftw #or at least something along those lines #yelling at average jewish ppl who ARENT in israel is antisemitic #anti semitism- no matter how 'big of a deal' you think it is naturally makes jewish ppl feel unsafe by default #where do they go when theres nowhere else thats safe? you guessed it- probably to israel. #which is WHAT netanyahu wants. he wants scared controllable civilians to think hes the only one who can protect them #so you being anti semitic and not checking yourself on it or being 'whatever its nbd' about it is making everything so much worse #STOP BEING SO FUCKING APATHETIC FUCK ILL BEAT YOU UP TO MAKE YOU FEEL SOMETHING IF I HAVE TO #i dont feel like i can in good conscious reblog your 'free palestine' posts bc idk wtf the op thinks about jewish ppl being in #israel. and at this point i dont have faith in leftists to not notice the antisemitism in some of these ppl and call it out #its not something we can 'push aside and deal with and apologize for later' its ACTIVELY MAKING THE SITUATION WORSE AND NEEDS #TO BE ADDRESSED RIGHT THE FUCK NOW #maybe jewish ppl wouldnt be calling it 'self defense' if yall didnt keep being antisemitic and making them feel like they have to cling #to israel to stay tf alive. fuck. #OBVIOUSLY the response to what hamas did is disproportionate and affecting more people than israel says it intends to target #but thats the govt. and actual regular people are worried about their families. its disproportionate and probably being used as an excuse #to genocide palestinians but this wouldnt be happening if hamas didnt basically GIVE the israeli govt the excuse to do it. #free palestine. from hamas and from the israeli govt. and dont have genocidal intent toward jewish ppl. #thats all i want. #hamas' escalation did nothing but hurt everyone and make things worse especially for palestinians.

[jessamine-rose]

/vent/

#i’ll delete this later on #yeahh i’m sorry if i’ve been extra venty this part year. it’s just….yeHhh irl has been kicking my ass #at this point. this is what?? my third monthly vent in a row?? ughhhh #but yeahh anyway. guess who is tired and frustrated as hell?? MEEEEEEEEEEE #idk i’ve just been super overwhelmed even before the start of april #and with the semester wnding *sigh* it’s just been hard #it reached the point where many times. i questioned if i could finish this semester at all #i’m down to three reqs now. it should be a good thing yet it feels nothing like one #especially when i’m still figuring out how to finish all three on time #idk i guess my frustratikn is more rooted in the fact that this past month. i haven’t been able to keep up with my internal deadljnes #it’s just so hard to open my laptop and get work done. idk why i keep doing this to myself but again and again. i find myself idling in the #daytime then sleeping late so i can finish the requirement and claim i’ve done smth productive today #nvm that i’ve lost at least five days to being useless and unproductive. i’d love to call it a mental break but it’s always been hard for m #whose great idea was it for non-major subjects to give so many requirements anyway?? #this week. i marked ‘monday’ as the day i’d finish my third-to-last requirement. yet here i am now. only 1/3 progress made and pushing the #internal deadline to tomorrow. knowing i can’t push it any further bc i still need time for my last deadlines #i’ve been sick the past weeks. mainly with cold and fatigue and the occasional chest pain. but i’ve only been able to minimally address it #and now it looks like i’m dehydrated. if today’s cold and sore throat and crippling unwell-ness are anything to go by #ughh what else?? a relative died today. i’m not that close to her tbh but it still shocks me. but more intense was my dread when i realized #i’d have to attend her funeral which is on/ before my deadline. sure the visit might be short but will it. rlly?? what about the time spent #processing her death?? the emotions that could follow me back to my desk?? #*sigh* idk where i’m going with this anymore. it feels like these days all i can do is complain and blame myself #and it makes me guilty every time i set aside time for myself. it makes me paranoid that i’m bothering my friends and mutuals too much with #personal vents #but at this point. all i can do is continue right?? compartmentalize. submit the fcking paper and stop being a perfectionist at the worst o #times. then after all that. get the rest i need #it looks easier on text. that’s all i can say #what else?? at the end of the day. i giess i just want to say thank you to my mutuals for being here. for giving me all those little moment #of joy. thanks for your comfort. and when this sem ends and i’ve rested enough. i hope i can go back to my usual brainrots. i miss that #UPDATE:: i managed to finish my rough draft of the paper. i can’t exactly call it one but at least it counts as 1/2 progress done

[thehmn]

I was talking with my housemate about how to be more physically active if you’re not used to it at all because everywhere you’re told to start a training routine where you push yourself a little every day, and while that may seem easy for some people it can be really fucking daunting if you start from zero.

As someone who comes from a very physically active family that doesn’t exercise just for the sake of exercising but do things like walk to the grocery store and bike to work, here’s my advice that has always worked for me:

Go super duper easy on yourself.

If you want to walk more start by walking for 3 or 5 minutes. The shortest possible walk you feel you’re capable of. A trip around the block or across the yard. You don’t need to sweat or get your blood pumping. Just a short stroll. The hardest part is to convince yourself to set aside 5 minutes every day to go on this short walk but nothing else about it should be hard. Do it every day and one day you’ll realize that you don’t want to go home just yet. It’s very important that you don’t think “I want to pressure myself to walk further” but rather “I haven’t spent all my walking energy yet. I have more walk in me” and only then do you lengthen the walk. I repeat, at no point should it be exhausting or difficult because even when it feels easy your body will be building muscle and stamina and it will eventually feel too easy and you’ll naturally want to crank it back up to easy again.

If you’re not used to being physically active it might not make a ton of sense when I say that you’ll have more walking energy left but trust me, you’ll get it when you get there.

I grew up with going on evening walks with my parents and passed that on to other housemates who didn’t get it at first but are now going on walks long after they moved somewhere else. Because once you get the hang of it you’ll realize how calming it is on the brain to move the body even if the body isn’t exhausted afterwards.

And it of course helps to entertain yourself especially in the beginning. My housemate started out listening to audiobooks and podcasts but eventually realized Pokémon Go was the best motivator. Whatever you feel like you want to do on your 5 minute easy stroll.

#humontalks #walking #advice

[nanivinsmoke]

Aphrodisiac

i’ve scrapped this one shot so many times, I almost gave up on it. hope my sukuna lovers will enjoy this one.

human!Sukuna x F!Reader

summary: when you accidentally eat an aphrodisiac, your boyfriend teaches you the consequences of it.

warnings : oh where do i start? multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f! receiving), rough sex, cream pies and body painting (?) and more.

“sukuna!” you called out while walking into the living room, hoping to find him there. his back was turned towards you, a pair of headphones propped on his head while he had a book in his hand. you stepped in front of him, causing him to finally look up at you. he pulled his headphones down and looked at you, wondering why you were in front of him with that expression on your face.

“i accidentally ate on of your gummies….and my body feels so….hot—and my um…” you begun, feeling nervous to tell him what else was wrong with you. he was now intrigued, wondering which of his gummies did you consume. “spit it out already” he spoke like he was already bored with you. “my clit is throbbing so much and look at my fucking panties they’re soaked!” a sigh escapes your lips when your panties ride on your clit as you pulled it up a tad to show him your slick.

whatever you ate had you in heat. your nipples were sensitive and if you walked a certain way an orgasm would’ve erupted through you. his crimson eyes trailed over you body before looking at you with a smirk on his face. he knew exactly what you ate and plan formulated in his mind. he tossed his stuff to the side and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you closer to him. the way his fingertips pressed into your hips made your clit throb even more, your body was totally sensitive.

you let out a breathy moan when he pulled your soaked panties down, your cunt at eye level with him. sukuna tapped your plush thigh as he laid back, guiding you to his face. when you sat down, a loud moan escaped your lips and an orgasm pushed through you. he didn’t even have to tease your clit; the heat from his mouth alone was needed for you to cum. his eyes shot open and his eyebrow rose, he couldn’t believe that you came that fast.

your sudden climax only fueled him more. his tongue swirled and sucked on your sensitive clit, making it pulsate even harder than before. he lapped up your juices like it was the last thing he would ever taste, causing you to grind your lower half on his face. his nose was pushed deeper into your cunt, stimulating your clit as he tongue fucked your aching hole. “cumming so hard for you kuna~” you said in a breathy whisper, gripping the couch’s brown arm rest as the ball in the pit of your stomach exploded.

he let your ride out your orgasm before moving you aside, sitting up afterwards. his mouth was covered with your juices making you blush at the sight. your eyes traveled down to the tent in his pants, mouth watering at the sight, palming it and watching it jump as you went. “are you going to continue teasing or are you going to free it?” his bluntness aroused you and you quickly unzipped his pants and freed his boner from his pants.

before you could even lean down to suck it, he stopped you telling you to get on your hands and knees instead. the sight of your dripping cunt being slightly covered by your fat ass made his balls swell. sukuna wasted no time and prodded his deep pink mushroom tip at your entrance, groaning at the ocean you formed in between your legs.

he entered you with no problem, your walls immediately clinging and constricting around him which made it harder for him to not burst inside of you. with a slight head turn, you glimpsed at him, “please fuck me hard kuna~”. usually you’re not able to take him when he’s fucking you deep and hard, but tonight you wanted to be fucked into the couch. a smirk etched on his face and he plunged deeper into your cunt with one stroke, a yelp escaping yours lips.

the embarrassing, yet sexy sound of air being pushed out of your cunt echoed throughout the living room as your cunt was being filled by his cock. your ass bounced against his pelvis each time he pounded into you. slutty mewls and dripplets of drool slipped from your plump lips the more he fucked your cunt sloppy.

it almost felt like you were dying and being brought back to life whenever he slammed himself deeper into you. his dick throbbed inside of you, he couldn’t stop himself from cumming either. your pussy was way too fucking good, his thick load shot out in ropes and the heat from of it made your pussy spasm; causing your third orgasm for the night.

he was breathless once he pulled out of you, sitting against the soft couch behind him. while the warm fluid pooled out of you, that overwhelming feeling soared through you again. you needed more, the strong effects of the aphrodisiac controlled you. you took him by surprise when you climbed on top of his lap, hovering over his cock before pushing it back inside of you.

“so fucking tight— mhm you’re clinging to me” he growled into your ear as your gummy walls confined to him, the fat of your ass clapping each time you reached the skin of his thighs. he loved the slutty expression that was plastered over your face, drunk off his cock as you made it yours.

the more you bounced, the more his dick became coated with your cream making it a bright shade of white. his big hands gripped the fat of your ass, the fluffyness of it melting in between his fingers as he helped bring you up and down on his cock. the feeling of his tip brushing against your sensitive spot sent flutters to your pussy and he could feel you cum again. his voice was raspy as he talked you through your orgasm.

sukuna could barely help himself when he pushed you on your back, holding your legs back with your ankles nearly touching your ears; his dick pushing inside of you once more. he ignored the sensitivity he felt and immediately began to split your pussy in half. your eyes rolled back deep into your head, showing off the whitest part of them. his name spitting off your tongue the more he fucked you silly.

you couldn’t take it anymore, you was sure he was going to break your pussy the way he was fucking you. your manicured nails scratched at his forearms; leaving welps and red markings over them. “this pussy is so fucking wet. this my pussy?” he knew you could barely answer him, your mind far away from words. instead you frantically nodded your head while taking his dick the best way you can.

the feelings of your pussy clenching around him made him go faster and caused your final orgasm to approach quicker. you didn’t warn him as a stream of clear liquid shot out of you and drenched his cock; some of it hitting his chest. he smiled seeing you squirt all over him, his climax following right after yours. “cumming loads in that pussy, yeah~?” with a few more hard and powerful strokes he began to empty the last of his balls out inside of you, before pulling out to paint the rest over your breasts.

you had learned your lesson and promised to never touch his things….sike.

#sukuna x y/n #jjk sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader x jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #human sukuna #boyfriend sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna smut #Sukuna one shot #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu ryomen

[solarmorrigan]

I'm late, I'm sorry, but here's the full fic from this WIP post yesterday!

[CW: bullying, references to canon racism and violence, mentions of recreational drug use]

-

Steve makes it to the bathroom down the hall from the shop classroom—the one that’s far from the cafeteria and always empty during lunch, where people really only come to smoke, anyway—before he completely loses his shit.

“Son of a bitch!” He’s almost screaming as he hauls off and punches the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, putting every ounce of anger and frustration and humiliation into it, hitting it so hard that the whole construction rattles.

“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now.

“That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.

He stops short when he sees nobody but Eddie goddamn Munson standing there, cringing into a startled flinch to protect his head as Steve nearly swings at him.

“Jesus shit,” Steve barks, dropping his fist and stepping back, shaky with adrenaline. “You walk like a fucking ghost, Munson.”

Munson peeks out of his defensive crouch before straightening up and sending a meaningful glance at the stall wall. “Somehow, I don’t think you would’ve heard me even if I was making all the noise in the world.”

Steve shrugs, his shoulders staying up near his ears in a defensive slouch. He can feel something dropping out of his hair and down the side of his face, and he feels the humiliation all over again as he tries to swipe it away.

“What do you want?” he asks, beyond caring if he sounds rude; he thinks he’s entitled, considering.

This time, Munson shrugs, a rolling, casual thing that belies the sharp look in his eyes. “Came to see if you were okay, I guess.”

Steve snorts. Is he okay?

Like, in the grand scheme of things, the answer is a really shaky “maybe.” But lately? It’s more of a resounding “no, not fucking really.”

Aside from everything else – aside from the nightmares, aside from the headaches, aside from the fact he’d had to drop basketball after his concussion, aside from having no real friends or allies at school now that he and Nancy aren’t together – aside from all that, there’s Billy fucking Hargrove.

Hargrove, who had taken all of a month to start pushing Steve’s buttons again. Who had taken less than a few days after that to realize that Steve wasn’t going to push back.

And then he’d started looking for the boundary line, pushing and pushing, shoulder-checking Steve in the hall, tripping him in the single class they share, knocking shit out of his hands, shoving him when his back is turned, all the while spitting names and insults, until it had culminated into today’s fiasco: dumping a carton of chocolate milk over the top of Steve’s head in the middle of the cafeteria with a deeply unconvincing “oops.”

It had gone dead silent, every eye in the room on Steve’s red face and Hargrove’s triumphant grin, while Steve had only been able to stand there, shaking with startled rage as milk had sluiced out of his hair and seeped into his collar and down the back of his shirt, knowing that he couldn’t retaliate.

He couldn’t.

He’d marched out of the cafeteria, shame and anger growing as voices had bloomed up behind him, already gossiping and speculating.

So, no, actually, he’s not really okay.

But instead of saying any of this to Munson, he just scoffs and turns away, looking towards the sinks.

“Wouldn’t have expected you to care,” he says, injecting as much lazy indifference into his voice as he can, trying to armor up the way he used to. “The number of speeches you’ve given about how much me and my group suck, I’d have figured you’d be the first to say I deserved it.”

Munson doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Steve doesn’t look back to see if the barb landed. He doesn’t really care, he just wants the guy to go away so Steve can finish his meltdown and clean up in peace.

“Not your group anymore, though,” Munson finally says.

Steve shrugs, pulling a wad of paper towels from the dispenser; might as well move on to cleanup if Munson isn’t going to fuck off. He guesses his little breakdown can wait until he gets home.

“Hasn’t been for over a year, now, right?” Munson goes on. Steve says nothing, using a dry paper towel to try to blot up the mess. “And whatever you were like then, you’re… less like that now. Like, anyone paying attention can see you’re kinda trying something new this year.”

Steve ignores the way that makes something catch in his throat. “Thanks for the endorsement,” he drawls. “I’ll put it on my college apps: Not as much of an asshole as I used to be.”

“It’s a start,” Munson says, and Steve glances up in time to see him shrug in the mirror.

“I guess,” Steve mutters.

“And, uh – hey, I grabbed your stuff,” Munson says, holding up the binder and notebooks that Steve’s attention had glossed over until now. “Some of it’s kinda… milky, sorry.”

Steve blinks. “Uh. Thank you,” he says, stunned for a moment into sincerity.

Munson shrugs again, putting Steve’s stuff up on the narrow shelf on the wall that no one ever uses to hold things because it’s probably never been cleaned. Not like Steve’s stuff is clean now, anyway.

Steve turns back to the sink, wetting a few of the paper towels and waiting to see if Munson is going to leave now.

“What I can’t figure out–” nope, apparently he’s staying, “–is why you’re in here punching the wall, instead of out there, punching Hargrove.”

At least that makes more sense; he’s here out of curiosity, not concern.

“I mean, most people would’ve hit him for that,” Munson goes on. “I would’ve.”

But Steve’s already shaking his head before Munson’s finished speaking. “Not worth it,” he says firmly.

“What, afraid of a little suspension?” Munson asks, almost teasing. “Pretty sure the school would let their golden boy off with a slap on the wrist.”

“Not anybody’s golden boy anymore,” Steve snaps, scrubbing a wet paper towel through his hair in a vain attempt to get some of the rapidly-drying milk out. “I dropped basketball, remember? Didn’t even go in for swimming this year.”

“Oh, yeah,” Munson says, like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Sorry, not really into the whole… sports scene. Like, at all.”

Steve shrugs. “Whatever. Not important. I don’t give a shit about being suspended. I don’t even care if he hits me back. Not like I need another knock to the head at this point, but – whatever.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s just that he could– there are other things he could do.”

In the mirror, Munson’s eyebrows go up. “What, does he have blackmail on you or some shit?”

Steve raises his brows right back. “If he did, do you really think I’d tell you?”

Munson tips his head to the side. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

“Anyway, he doesn’t have blackmail, he has… leverage, I guess.” Steve lets out a harsh sigh and gives up on his hair for now, wetting a paper towel to try to get some of the milk off his face and neck, instead.

“…are you allowed to tell me what that is?” Munson asks after a moment.

And for a moment, Steve thinks about it. The only people in school who really know are Nancy and Jonathan, and he’s asked them to follow his lead in just – not talking about it. He hasn’t told anybody any version of what happened in the Byers’ house, or why Billy seems to have made him his personal stress ball. But who the hell would Munson tell? All his nerdy friends in his game club?

(No, no, that’s not fair. Steve doesn’t even know those people, and he’s trying not to be that guy anymore. He doesn’t have to be nice, but he shouldn’t be unkind.)

(The point stands, though – who would Munson even tell?)

“Do you know why Hargrove beat my face in back in November?” Steve finally asks, avoiding Munson’s eyes in the mirror by focusing very hard on getting the tacky milk off his hairline.

“Well, I’ve heard most of the rumors by now, I think. Heard Hargrove’s version of events, as has pretty much everyone, I’m sure. Haven’t heard yours, though,” Munson says, his voice tilting up in interest. “I just figured it was because he hated you.”

Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. But also…” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “There are these kids I babysit. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Munson presses.

“Well, most of the time it feels like they’re just ordering me around like a bunch of entitled shitheads. But I make sure they get where they’re going without, like, disappearing, and that they don’t have so much unsupervised time that they manage to get themselves killed,” Steve admits.

“Uh huh,” Munson says; he sounds… a little confused, but not disbelieving. “And you ended up with this gig, how?”

“It’s Nancy’s little brother, and his little nerd friends,” Steve says (he’s allowed to call them nerds because he knows them, and it’s true. And besides, it’s affectionate).

“Aaand you’re still doing it now? Even though you and Wheeler aren’t…”

Steve shrugs. “They grew on me. But that’s– that’s not the point. One of the kids is, uh. Hargrove’s stepsister. And the night me and Hargrove got into it, I guess she wasn’t supposed to be out.”

“Ah,” Munson says.

“Yeah.” Steve sighs, giving up on the milk as a bad job; he probably should’ve run off to the gym showers instead of a shitty bathroom. He turns and leans back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the floor near Munson’s scuffed sneakers. “So he came looking for her.”

“So… Not that I’m advocating handing over children to pieces of shit like him, but – like, wouldn’t it have been the technically correct thing to do, to send her home with what is legally a family member?” Munson asks.

Steve passes a hand over his face. “She was terrified,” he says quietly, feeling a little like he’s betraying Max’s trust by saying it out loud, by saying it to a stranger. “She was terrified of what he would do if he found her there, where she wasn’t supposed to be. Terrified of what he would do to one of the other kids if he caught them together, since he’d specifically warned her to stay away from him.”

“What’s wrong with this other kid?” Munson asks, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” Steve bites out. “He’s smart, and he’s brave, and he’s, like, slightly less of an asshole than some of the others, but what Hargrove cared about is that he’s black.”

��You’re fucking kidding me,” Munson snaps, and Steve’s hackles raise, ready to defend his kid all over again if he has to, but before he can get anything else out, Munson goes on. “We already knew he was a racist piece of shit, but – a fucking kid?”

Steve subsides. “Yeah. A fucking kid. So I told them all to stay inside and I went out to try to head him off. Or at least keep him out of the house. Which, obviously, I failed at.” He lets out a derisive little laugh, aimed solely at himself. “He knocked me on my ass, knocked the wind out of me, got past me– and by the time I was able to get up, he was already– he was inside, and he had that kid by the collar, up against the wall– one of my fucking kids–” Steve breaks off, the same rage and terror from that night choking up in his throat again. After the day he’s had, his emotions are all too close to the surface, too near to bubbling out, and he rubs at his nose, trying to stave off the angry, exhausted tears he can feel pricking at the corners of his eyes. “So I decked him.”

“Good!” Munson exclaims, and for a moment Steve actually manages a real smile.

“Yeah,” he says. “Then he hit me back, which, like, obviously. I was expecting him to, but– I mean, I might’ve actually won that fight if the fucker hadn’t hit me in the head with a plate.”

The expression that crosses Munson’s face is almost comically shocked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Steve says again, running a hand over his jaw, thumbing almost unconsciously at the still-fading scar where the porcelain had sliced him open. “I’m a little fuzzy on shit after that. Like, I remember being on the floor, and him kneeling over me, and hitting me, and hitting me, and then– I dunno, nothing.”

Distantly, Steve realizes that the expression on Munson’s face has turned from ‘comically shocked’ to ‘mildly horrified,’ but he’s a little too lost in the blurry memory of that night to do much about it.

“Holy shit, how are you not dead?” Munson blurts out.

He looks like he immediately regrets asking, but Steve finds he’s actually grateful for the question. He’s glad to move the conversation along.

“Max.” He smirks over at Eddie. “Hargrove’s stepsister. I guess she, uh– threatened him with a baseball bat? Saved my ass.”

That’s a deep over-simplification, but Steve can’t think of a way to explain the presence of heavy sedatives in the Byers’ house, and, anyway, she had threatened him with a baseball bat. The kids had all taken great joy in reenacting the way Max had nearly neutered Hargrove with the nailbat, actually; it’s almost like Steve had been there (and conscious).

“Holy shit,” Munson says, and whichever part he’s referring to, Steve is inclined to agree.

“Yep. So I was out fucking cold at the time, but the kids all insist that she got him to agree to leave her and her friends alone, but…” Steve shakes his head. “Hargrove is a fucking psychopath. I don’t trust him to keep that promise. So, at least if he’s focused on me, he might leave her alone. But if I hit back…”

“You think he’ll retaliate by going after one of your kids,” Munson says, only a hint of teasing in his words at the end.

“I know he will,” Steve says; Hargrove had implied as much more than once. He crosses his arms back over his chest. “And they are my kids.”

Munson throws his hands up, as if in surrender, but he’s definitely smiling now.

“I’m serious,” Steve insists, close to smiling himself. “They think I’m stuck with them, but they’re the ones stuck with me.”

“Lucky them,” Munson says, and– what?

“What?” Steve asks.

“Look, you’re either a better actor than, like, everyone in the drama club, or you at least seriously believe what you told me, which is more than I can say for Hargrove and whatever shit he came up with about the two of you getting into it over… what, his car was better than yours? He’s better at laundry ball? I don’t fucking remember, and it doesn’t really matter, because it was clearly and pathetically fabricated,” Munson says with an authoritative nod. “You, at the very least, really give a shit about those kids. So, yeah. Lucky them.”

“Well,” Steve scrambles for a moment, trying to cover the way he actually feels like he might start fucking blushing, “if I’d known all I had to do to change your mind about me was tell you about a fight I lost, I’d have done it ages ago.”

And now Munson’s back to smirking at him. “Seeking my esteem that badly, Harrington?”

“What? No. I mean – not– not specifically yours, it’s just… like, there’s not really an easy or fast way to make up for being kind of a dick for the last… while.” Steve runs his hand through his hair, stopping with a grimace when he remembers the drying milk. “You just have to keep not being a dick and hope people give you a chance. So, like, compared to that, convincing you was easy.”

“And all you had to do was get a severe concussion first,” Munson drawls.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say it was severe.”

“You got hit with a plate,” Munson deadpans, and Steve can’t quite help the resulting flinch, at which Munson almost immediately softens. “Sorry.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

Mouth screwed to the side, Munson eyes Steve for a moment, glancing over his shirt and up to his face before gesturing at him. “You want some help with that?”

Steve blinks at him. “What?”

“Your whole… hair situation. You could bend ov– like, you could lean over the sink and I could, uh. Try to rinse it for you. Or whatever,” Munson offers, awkward but apparently sincere.

It sounds like a stupid as hell way to try to rinse his hair. The sinks are small, and not exactly high off the ground; Steve would have better luck just going to the locker room and showering it all out. His soap is there, too, and an extra shirt.

On the other hand, Steve really doesn’t feel like leaving the bathroom yet. He’s pretty sure lunch is going to end soon, and encountering everyone during passing period sounds like a nightmare. In here, with Munson, it’s quiet. It feels almost safe.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve finally says, and Munson looks nearly shocked that he’s accepted.

Credit to him, though: he doesn’t back out. He just slides his jacket off, tosses it up over the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, rolls up his sleeves, and gestures for Steve to lean over the sink.

“Hot or cold?” he asks, going for the taps.

“Hot,” Steve answers immediately; he doesn’t need any other cold liquid on his head today.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Munson says airily, turning on the water. “You just kinda strike me as a cold shower guy. Like, up at dawn, go for a run, take a cold shower – all that weird jock shit.”

It isn’t intended to mock, Steve realizes as Munson tests the water temperature—the school pipes take forever to heat up—but to tease. It’s a joke, and Steve is invited in on it. And anyway, it’s… actually kind of close to the mark, so Steve doesn’t say anything at all for a moment as he puts his head as close to the faucet as he can get it and Munson places one cupped hand over the back of his neck and uses the other to scoop water over Steve’s hair.

“Cold water is better for your hair. Not that you’d know anything about that.” Steve finally says, hoping that his own teasing tone carries even with the way he has to raise his voice to be heard over the running water.

Luckily, Munson sounds amused when he answers. “Oh! Shots fucking fired. I see how it is!” Even as he’s pretending at being offended, his fingers stay gentle against Steve’s scalp as he tries to scrub out the dried mess, and Steve fights very, very hard not to shudder.

He can’t remember when the last time someone touched him with gentle intent was. Maybe he’d gotten a hug from Dustin last week?

Shit, that’s fucking pathetic.

He tries even harder not to lean into the touch, into the surprisingly kind hands on the back of his neck and on his scalp, tries hard not to act like some kind of touch-starved weirdo and make Munson regret offering to help.

The irony of the fact that Steve is trying not to act like a freak in front of Eddie Munson is not lost on him.

After another couple of minutes of Munson manipulating Steve’s head this way and that, doing his best to be thorough, he lets Steve go entirely and shuts the water off.

“That’s probably as good as I’m gonna be able to get it,” he says, pushing another handful of paper towels at Steve as he stands up.

“Better than I could’ve done here,” Steve says with a shrug, rubbing the paper towels over his hair and grimacing as he can feel it frizzing in about a hundred different directions.

When he finishes, he turns to look in the mirror, watching in real time as it droops over his forehead and tickles at his wet shirt collar. Munson stands next to him, watching without judgement, but with what feels like an inappropriate amount of fascination.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you,” Munson says at last, “you look a little like a sad, wet dog.”

Steve’s eyes snap to Munson with a glare. “Gee, thanks.”

“Some people are into that!” Munson insists, holding his hands up placatingly. “That droopy aesthetic, with the big, brown puppy eyes. Someone might just wanna scoop you up and take you home to take care of you. It’s a thing.”

Do you want to? – the question comes immediately and unbidden to Steve’s head, and he quickly shakes it away. They might be on amiable terms right now, teasing each other a little, but he isn’t sure that wouldn’t be a bridge too far.

(He isn’t even sure it is teasing. For a moment, he’d had the genuine urge to ask.)

“Anyway, I think most of the mess is out of your hair, but I’m pretty sure your shirt is toast,” Munson goes on, gesturing to the brown stain around the collar, over one shoulder, and probably down the back.

If he’d been wearing a darker color today, it might’ve been alright, but of course today he’d chosen light blue. Steve sighs, plucking at the front of the shirt. If he can’t salvage it, he might as well ditch it; it’s getting uncomfortably stiff and tacky with the dried milk, and he’d honestly rather stick it out in his undershirt for as long as it takes him to get to the locker room than walk around with evidence of Hargrove’s little stunt all over him.

He untucks the shirt and yanks it over his head, no need to be careful of his hair, emerging from the depths of it to find Munson staring at him in a stunned sort of silence.

“What?” Steve asks. “If it’s wrecked, anyway, I might as well get rid of it. I’ve got a spare shirt in my gym locker I can go grab.”

Munson blinks at him, almost like he’s trying to clear his head. “Or!” he practically shouts – possibly louder than he meant to, since he continues more quietly, “Or, you could just ditch for the rest of the day. I mean, you have any particularly interesting classes after lunch you feel the need to attend?”

“Not really,” Steve admits with a huff of a laugh. “But leaving after that feels a little like– letting Hargrove win. Like I’m retreating or some shit.”

“Nah, don’t think of it like that.” Munson tosses an arm over Steve shoulders, waving his other in front of both of them, like he’s trying to show Steve a grand vision and they aren’t both just staring at the ugly tile on the bathroom wall. “Think of it as cutting class and getting free weed from Hawkins High’s most esteemed dealer.”

Steve turns to look at Munson, staring at him more closely than he’s ever had reason to, and realizing there are tiny freckles on his face. “What, seriously?”

“Sure.” Munson shrugs. “Lemme smoke you out, Harrington. Seems like a good way to let your stress go for a bit – though I am just a little biased.”

“Why?” Steve asks; he doesn’t understand the sudden turn this day has taken, the sudden and bizarre kindness offered that he doesn’t even know what he’s done to deserve.

Munson’s eyes slide away from Steve, though his arm notably stays draped over his shoulders. “Been where you are. It’s not great. And, I mean, if it had happened last year, then, admittedly, I probably wouldn’t have given as much of a shit. Jock on jock violence, whatever. But you,” he glances back at Steve, “you’re genuinely trying to be, like, a good person. And I don’t think you should be punished for that. I think, in fact, that you could probably use a friend.”

“I…” The words stick in Steve’s throat, because what the hell can he even say to that? On anyone else, Steve would have assumed an ulterior motive, but Munson had infused it with so much awkward sincerity that Steve can’t help but realize it’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said or offered to do for him in… he’s not even sure how long.

His silence must stretch on a little too long, though, because the hopeful light in Munson’s eyes fades a bit, and he begins to slide his arm off of Steve’s shoulder. “Or, y’know, you can tell me to fuck off, because I’m, like, way overstepping some boundaries, and–”

“We should go to my place,” Steve blurts, while grabbing Munson’s wrist for some insane reason.

“What?” Munson blinks over at him, (understandably) startled.

“My place. We should go there to smoke. If you still want to.” Steve could cringe for how stilted the whole thing is coming out. “I want to be able to take a real shower.”

Munson stares at him for a moment longer before laying a hand over his heart with a gasp, suddenly leaning heavily into Steve’s side and forcing Steve to wrap an arm around his waist so they don’t both lose their balance.

“I see how it is!” Munson gasps dramatically. “My sink shower just wasn’t good enough!”

Steve holds in a laugh. “Your sink shower was… fine. But I’ve got milk dried in other uncomfortable places, so unless you want to wash my back for me, too, we should go back to mine.”

Munson’s gaze snaps back to Steve, something a little odd in it, and – oh. Oh, that hadn’t sounded quite like Steve had meant it. It had sounded a little like an offer of the kind you don’t go around making to just anybody.

Steve braces himself, waiting for the reaction (he doubts if Munson would get any kind of physical, but there will probably be an awkward pulling away and sudden remembering of something he has to do literally anywhere else that afternoon), but all Munson does is break into a sly smile and say, “I could, but I’d have to charge you extra.”

Steve can’t help it: he laughs, giving Munson a good-natured shove, who finally releases Steve but doesn’t stumble more than a couple of steps away.

“Meet you at my place?” Steve offers, balling up his shirt and dropping it on top of his notebooks as he grabs them from the shelf. “Half an hour?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Munson gives him a corny little salute before grabbing his jacket from over the stall wall and preceding Steve to the bathroom door.

“Munson,” Steve finds himself calling out, just as the other boy’s hand closes around the door handle; Munson glances back and Steve fights the urge to look away. “Uh. Thanks. For, like… yeah. Thanks.”

Whatever meaning Munson takes out of Steve’s absolutely eloquent verbal vomit of gratitude, it makes him smile. “No need for thanks, man,” he says. “I’m honestly a little surprised to say it, but the pleasure was definitely mine.”

And then he disappears out the door, leaving Steve in the bathroom wondering how the hell his day had taken this turn, and just what destination it’s leading him to.

And thinking that he’s honestly a little excited to find out.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things post s2 AU #stranger things #this one is a bit long just as a heads up; about 4.6k #is it good? I dunno but I had fun writing it and you guys seem interested so here we go! #eddiesteve #solar wrote

[evilminji]

Oh shit :D ?

I just remembered! (Thank you, historical fantasy section!) But like? Serving and protecting The King, especially a HIGH KING, is quite literally not just an incredible honor... but it can sometimes be a person's Life Ambition?

Specificly a WORTHY king.

Perhaps they were denied in life. Perhaps they FAILED. And in their dying moments struggle with all they were to LIVE. To PROTECT. Perhaps the PREVIOUS king was a great and worthy ruler... but their heir is...

Unworthy.

Maybe they are born to an age without Rulers. Power shifting between hands in hidden halls. Unclear and murky. All they want is for their loyalty to MEAN something. For things to be SIMPLE.

The universe is large. The Infinite Realms? Unimaginably larger.

And Pariah Dark was a BASTARD.

Who would willingly swear to him? Fools! That's who! Every warrior soul worth ANYTHING gets as far AWAY from his Realm forsaken resting place as they can. Hides. Lest they be dragged in to his infernal, gods forsaken, cess pit of a so called "army"! *disgusted spitting noises*

But what does this mean? It means every trained FIGHTER... got the hell out of dodge. Oh, sure, a FEW refused. Like Pandora and her people. But most? The farthest side of NOWHERE, several layers down! Some still GOING! Better to be decried as cowards then have ANYTHING to do with THAT(said with loathing)!

It also means they weren't where Pariah could get to them when he woke. Couldn't help. Couldn't fight. Couldn't be commanded to kneel. Nothing. They removed themselves completely. Planned on CONTINUING to remove themselves. Preferably to the farthest reaches of forever, far beyond the bastard's gaze.

But! The whole REALM INFINITE felt it? When that... that hissing, acidic, malicious undertone? SLAMS back and away, like somebody's knocked a parasite from their backs. Replaced by coolness and starlight. Delicate balance and blood on your teeth. The pounding in your chest of HOPE.

It flutters so small across their backs, inside their chests. Washing away the old.

The King... feels tiny. Young.

.......what are they doing? Running like this. Hiding away like that will change anything. How long... when did...

There are so many of them now. A veritable army of souls, of all Ages and People's. Every armor and crest imaginable. They'd been so.. so REPULSED by Pariah... nothing else had mattered but to get AWAY. Where even ARE they? What YEAR is it? Does any of that matter?

The King.

Their Obsessions whisper. Loyalty. Service. Protection. Honor. You have left you post! Abandoned your DUTY! What are you DOING!?

They are AGHAST. They turn around at once. The King! How could they have ABANDONED the King!? Who is guarding him if they are all HERE?!

Himself!?

(Yes. Danny is fine. He is eating the "Thank You for keeping us all from dying to whatever the FUCK that was!" tamales Paulina's mom pushed into his arms on his way back home. He didn't even try arguing. He made eye contact and knew he would lose.)

(Why does he feel like something really, really bothersome is headed his way?)

It's UNACCEPTABLE. Unthinkable! The King? Unguarded? Where assassination attempts and nefarious PLOTS could occur?! What if someone tried to steal his eggs!? Or attacked him while his exoskeleton was molting!? They aren't entirely sure which species he is yet, but there are SO MANY NEFARIOUS PLOTS OUT THERE!!

*panicked honor guards*

Just? Imagine becoming king. And thinking "well, aside from the skeleton army I have to figure out, at least I don't have to manage anybody!" Only to *WABAM!* your ENTIRE GHOST COURT shows up like a week later. Turns out they were hiding from your predecessor.

You have a whole ass honor gaurd. Who REFUSE TO LEAVE YOUR SIDE. You have Chefs. Who WILL cry if you send them away. The Literal Best In The Multiverse are all following you around... YOU, a RANDOM TEENAGE, with Excited Shoujo Sparkles in their eyes... because you punched a jackass really, REALLY hard.

There is no way to make this stop. Your friends are laughing at you. The interior decorator wants you to look at swatches. What are swatches and why are you being harrased by them at 1am, you wonder? If you are Mean(tm) they throw themselves upon the floor and blame themselves for their Wicked, Evil, King-Upseting Ways and you can't even TELL if your being played here.

It's like being bullied by house elves. Or Miette.

Your parents are too excited by all the New Research (at least the reveal went well?) To SAVE THEIR SON, and your sister is HELPING THE ENEMY (Traitor!), so now you're being bullied into eating vegetables and studying more.

Then? THEN!! WHO SHOWS UP?! Like... five WEEKS late?! The Justice League. Gee! GREAT RESPONSE TIME, GUYS! Reeeal snappy! But ya, JUST missed the guy!

.......YES HES BEING SARCASTIC!!!

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

[toruslvt]

 IT HAS TO BE NOW ?

XIAO, SCARAMOUCHE, KAEYA + FEM!READER

mdni. semi public sx, exhibitionism, degradation ( scara, he's a little shit ) creampies, cockwarming ( kaeya )

to any other person walking around Wangshu Inn, the sight of Xiao with his arms wrapped around his lovely girlfriend at the top balcony of the inn, brought them only fondness over the couple. luckily none of them dared step into the intimate space, or else they would've noticed the young adepti’s pants slightly lower on his hips, blushed face and shaky exhalations from the tight grip of your hot pussy around his cock.

“xiao...” you gasp, clutching onto the wooden railing right behind your hips, roughly pressing into the soft skin of your ass, “they’ll see” yet he doesn't reply, instead pressing you closer to his chest, sliding in a bit deeper into your heat as the man whines loudly on your neck. you can’t deny Xiao looks utterly cute all whiney and fucked out just from the squeeze of your walls around his length, pressing into you with soft, barely noticeable grinds that’s mostly him staining your insides with immense amounts of precum.

“im so close, please... just a bit more” Xiao huffs, pinning your hips against the rail so you have nowhere to move as he starts to buck into you, taking your creamy pussy right where he wants. one of his hands go unnoticed under your drenched panties, which are just roughly pushed aside and catching the drops of slick that pour out of your cunt, adding enough lubrication to your pretty puffy clit. “cum, I need to feel you cum around me” he hisses, almost in pain from how tight your hole sucks on his length, pulling him nice and deep for his cum to spurt into your pussy as you convulse and cum around him, head hanging low in an attempt to hide the pleasured look on your face from any poor unlucky traveler.

“everyone in the Akademiya is so fuckin' stupid” Scaramouche hisses under his breath, followed by a string of curses that you have no idea who he learnt from. the other thing you wonder about is how is he capable of speaking so much while undoing your shirt buttons, roughly tossing it open for his hands to cup your breasts, tugging on the slightly hardened nipple from the outdoors breeze.

“they can go to their dumb explorations alone I don’t know why they would want me there” your boyfriend complains again, pushing you further until your hands press against the rocky stone behind the Akademiya, right where the path ended and a slightly secluded spot appeared from behind a couple of branches.

“are you sure no one comes around here?” you ask ignoring his complaints, which get cut off suddenly before he grunts.

“yeah I'm sure, besides...” Scaramouche smirks to himself, raising your skirt until the fabric bunches on your hips, roughly pushing your underwear down for two of his fingers to slide across your slit, “you’re so wet, this whole thing turns you on, huh? what a slut”

you try to fight back, you really do but your words die in your throat as soon as Scaramouche’s dick presses against your entrance, inching inside so painfully slow you could only whimper, spreading out your legs for his forcefully thrusting inside your pussy, not giving a fuck if anyone could hear his loud throaty groans of pleasure, nor the loud squelching sound of your cunt getting pounded roughly. it takes you an embarrassing short time to cum, being stimulated since hours earlier did the trick but neither you nor Scaramouche could take your sweet time, and the flutter of your walls is enough to make your boyfriend cum as well, humping into your back for every drop of cum to be deep in your pussy.

a soft spank on your ass and he's quick to fix your panties, watching them wetten by the mixture of your slick and his cum, “see you at home” he smirks and leaves a kiss on your lips, at least now, cheerfully walking back into the Akademiya.

“you’re doing amazing, baby, just hold in a little more” Kaeya whispers in your ear, his voice so soothing you could only nod, although unable to resist the urge to squirm in your place, accidentally squeezing harder against the man’s cock slotted deep inside your walls. his arms clutch harder around your waist, forcing you to sit quietly on his lap, the long skirts you wore enough to cover your laps and the lewd action you were participating in at the second floor of Angel’s share.

you whine, soft and breathy, noticing by the corner of your eye, how Kaeya seemed to be a bit too slow in drinking his last glass of wine, swirling the cup between his palm with a soft smirk always present on your lover’s face. his name comes out of your mouth almost in a beg, to which he replies with a chuckle, “what is it, darling? you’ve been so good so far, I know you can just wait a bit more, can you?” he whispers sultry, bouncing his leg so you choke out on a moan at the sensation of his cock caressing your insides.

“y-yeah, I can” you mutter.

“that’s my good girl” your boyfriend praises in a melodic tone, leaving a soft kiss on your neck before his free hand slides under your skirt, rubbing on your bare puffy clit until your walls quiver around his cock, ripping a groan out of his lips and a follow up praise. “i wish for nothing else than bending and fucking you right here” he sighs, deep and full of lust as you hiccup in need, “but we can’t leave just yet, that’d be a pity” Kaeya mocks, continuing his assault on your clit as his uncovered eye glimmers with amusement, adoring how your forehead rests against the table, eyes closed shut and whines coming out freely out of your mouth. he just needs to see you cum, to make a mess around his cock with a broken sob and nails digging in the wood of the bench for plenty of people to wonder what were those marks made from.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin xiao smut #genshin scaramouche smut #genshin kaeya smut #genshin impact xiao smut #genshin impact Scaramouche smut #genshin impact kaeya smut #xiao smut #xiao x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #kaeya smut #kaeya x reader #𐔌᭥ᩙ༉

[augustinewrites]

once shoko opens her door, you offer her a half-hearted smile and hold up your bottle of wine. if there’s one person you can count on to help drink your feelings away, it’s—

“i actually can’t tonight,” she sighs. “i have an exam tomorrow and i already had a few drinks so…”

“wait, shoko—” you catch the edge of the door, sighing as you admit, “i think satoru is cheating on me.” 

she pauses for a second, as if checking to see if you’re serious. 

then, “you open that up. i’ll get the glasses.” 

“thanks,” you grin, following her inside. 

“do you need anything else?” she calls from the kitchen. “a hug? baseball bat? an alibi?”

“no need for glasses, and we don’t need the other stuff…yet,” you grimace, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a swig, kicking the door shut behind you. “and i don’t know for sure that he’s cheating, but he’s just been so weird lately.” 

“weird how?” your friend asks, pushing aside the textbooks she has open on the couch cushions before gesturing for the bottle. “it’s gojo, you’ve gotta be more specific.”

you hand her the tequila, shaking your head. “it was small things at first. showing up late for dates or just cancelling them. not telling me where he’s been all day. then last night i saw this text on his phone…”

shoko’s brows raise. “you were looking at his messages?”

“no!” you exclaim. then, when your best friend sends you a look, “okay, i didn’t mean to! he left his phone on the nightstand while he was in the shower and i looked at it when it buzzed with a text from someone named megumi.”

“oh,” shoko realizes, eyes widening. “that’s a girl’s name.” 

you both sit in silence for a moment, passing the bottle back and forth. your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket - undoubtedly satoru asking why you’ve been avoiding him all day - but you ignore it.

“let’s confront him,” shoko proposes once you’re halfway through the bottle. “find out once and for all.”

“okay!” by now, you’re buzzed enough to think this is a brilliant idea, standing on unsteady legs as shoko calls for a cab. 

_____

“hey,” your boyfriend smiles weakly once he opens the door. “wait, what’s shoko doing—”

“where is she?” she asks, pushing past the both of you to walk into his apartment. she begins flipping up couch cushions and checking behind curtains. 

“what’s going on?” satoru asks, letting you push him inside. he looks down at you, concern clouding his expression. “what’s she talking about?”

you’re not sure if it’s liquid courage or frustration that causes you to blurt, “are you cheating on me?”

“what? of course not—”

“then who’s megumi?”

“he is toji’s six year son!”

your eyes widen. shoko freezes, halfway through opening a cabinet. 

toji…had a son? “so he’s a— a—”

“he’s a zen’in,” your boyfriend confirms. it’s as if all the air leaves your lungs when he says that, catching in your throat. “his mom passed, and after toji…i couldn’t just leave him alone. apparently toji made some deal to sell the kid to the zen’in clan, and i didn’t want…so i filed for guardianship.”

“guardianship,” you echo. “you’re planning to raise the kid on your own?

“his sister too.” 

“i’m gonna go get a cab home. let you two talk,” shoko laughs nervously, speeding out the door. 

satoru walks over to the couch once she’s gone, sitting the edge and hiding his face in his hands. “i’d get it, you know.”

“get what?” you ask, sitting next to him.

“you didn’t sign up for this,” he sighs. “taking in two kids— it’s a lot. but i couldn’t do nothing. he’s going to need someone to help him. teach him. care about him. so he doesn’t end up like…”

he doesn’t finish his sentence. you don’t make him. even after a few years, the heartache of losing your friend causes a dull ache in your chest. 

though…he’s right that you didn’t sign up for any of this. kids were the furthest thing from your mind at this stage of your life, not to mention this stage of your relationship. 

but if satoru, who is barely an adult himself, can find it in his heart to do what you know in your mind is the right thing…

“then i guess it’ll make the next few years of our lives pretty exciting,” you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“our lives?” he repeats, sounding shocked. “you’re…staying?”

you draw back to meet his pensive gaze, though it melts away when you offer him a small smile. you see him in this moment. 

so you cup his face in your hands, thumb softly stroking his cheek. “you didn’t think i would want to stay?”

“i hoped,” he murmurs, lips brushing against the inside of your wrist. “but i didn’t know for sure.”

“well, i’m not going anywhere,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. “even if you’re a monumental pain in my ass.”

#i started this in dec 2021 omg #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

[gojonanami]

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

summary: it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

contents: angst then fluff, i promise there's a happy ending, you just have to earn it, shibuya does not happen in this timeline, instead we celebrate gojo, slightly angsty, reflections on events of jjk 0, crack, all of gojo's students (aside yuta and hakari and rirara make an appearance), mentions of sex/pregnancy, innuendo

word count: 2,821

December 7, 1989. 

A day that had changed the balance of the jujutsu world irrevocably — the day Satoru Gojo had burst onto the scene. 

But to Satoru, the anniversary of that day had meant nothing to him for most of his life. It was another day in the calendar — the caretakers from the Gojo clan cared not for his birthday, as they did his development as the head and face of the Gojo clan. He had received the best of everything — the best foods, the best training, the best room in the compound. 

At least, the strongest sorcerer had. 

Satoru Gojo had barely received anything more than reverent bows, averted gazes, and hushed whispers — and he saw them all, with the six eyes he never had asked for. And Satoru Gojo had grown up without affection or anything of the sort — to the point where he had thought he was simply beyond that — love, compassion, or friendship — no, the only thing he had was duty. 

And birthdays only served as a marker that he had lived another year. 

Until they meant something more — when he had met Suguru, Shoko, and you. And then it had meant something for a little while. It meant a celebration with his friends — with a cake that you and Suguru had hastily made after a mission, while Shoko hung decorations (with the help of one of Suguru’s curses reaching the high points). It had meant forcing Nanami to wear a party hat against his will (Shoko and Haibara’s doing), and Satoru inevitably smearing cake on your face to start an all out food fight (which only ended with Satoru getting scolded and smacked on the head by Yaga, even on his birthday). And it meant you, Suguru, and Shoko giving him his first real birthday present — something he had never received in fifteen years of living. It meant something more. 

Until it didn’t, again. 

Because, now, it was another year he had spent without his best friend. Another year he watched other sorcerers die. Another year he had to spend apart from you and Shoko because you or he had been sent on missions while Shoko was stuck in the infirmary or the morgue. 

And now, this year it was the first time he had a birthday that Suguru wouldn’t age. He would never age again. He would stay 28 forever, and Satoru — he didn’t know what age he’d turn. He hoped he would die before old age or disease took him — he rather not live long enough for that. Although you and Suguru always joked that he would be even better looking as an old man. 

But all Satoru could think about was growing old alone — without anyone else around him. He was the strongest after all, how could anyone else survive? People around him were killed off one by one — and he was left all alone. And maybe that’s why he didn’t like birthdays — it was just another year, another year older — another year marking who had left him. 

And so many did. 

And how many birthdays would pass until he lost another? Would it be one of his students? Would it be Nanami? Would it be Shoko? Would it be you? 

You…you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose. He had already lost you once. Pushed you away after Geto defected, pushed himself into work until he was burnt out, and pushed away any thoughts that he had of you. It didn’t last. It wasn’t a year until you had battered at his walls and his actual door, forcing your way back into his life. 

And he was thankful you did, because he didn’t know if he would have found his way out of the hole he had dug himself in — before the dirt covered and buried him. 

You — you would never let his birthday go. You never let him go a year without making him feel special, in one way or another. Last year, you had baked him his favorite cake, took him on a trip to a hot spring, and made arrangements to make sure the two of you weren’t disturbed the entire weekend (which was a feat of miracles on par with his six eyes and limitless itself). 

“C’mon, just tell meeeee,” 

And the strongest sorcerer’s snatching your gradebook out of your hand for the millionth time, and you surely look unamused, brow knit together, as you rub your temples, “You know living with you is worse than a child,” 

“Wanna test your theory? I could fill you up right now and nine months—” 

“I’m going to murder you,” and he only shrugs, all too smug. 

“You’d miss me too much,” and he adds, “plus I know you’re strong, but you couldn’t—” 

“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the couch all week, I don’t care if it is your birthday tomorrow,” and he meets your gaze, and you’re unwavering, as he sighs, and hands over your grade book. 

“We really aren’t doing anything?” your husband asks, raising a single eyebrow curiously, “you always have something up your sleeve, sweetheart,” 

You frown, setting your grade book aside, “I just thought with everything going on — Yuji’s appearance, the special grades running around — I don’t think we should be away right now, and I thought we could do something small, just you and me,” 

He nods slowly, a smile shoddily crafted and pasted on his lips, “Yeah, bet if I leave, the higher ups may try to pull something on Yuji,” he sighs dramatically, leaning his head back on the couch, “what a curse to be the strongest,” 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “you sure you’re okay with not doing anything?” 

“Of course,” he finds your lips in a kiss.  

But why wasn’t he? 

He wasn’t one to care for things like this. He thought he was beyond caring about things like this. But all he could feel was the festering urge of disappointment seeping into his thoughts. Even the next day, the universe seemed to be against him, sent on a wild goose chase mission to hunt down a supposed special grade only to find two grade A curses that he took care of with ease. 

He trodded back home to you — lips still in a pout that he couldn’t even enjoy his morning with you on his birthday. He didn’t even get to enjoy cuddling with you — woken up to travel across the country to deal with some curses he didn’t need to handle. 

It didn’t used to be like this — sent off to do missions alone. Again and again. Heavy was the head that bore the crown, but no one had mentioned how lonely it was. Lonely even surrounded by those who tried to understand him — and he had you, he had you, but how could anyone truly see him for who he was — when he didn’t feel like he knew who he was anymore. Suguru’s question still rang in his ears — was he the strongest because he was Gojo Satoru, or was he Gojo Satoru because he was the strongest? 

And all these years later, he still didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know if he would ever know the answer. 

But he didn’t have time to linger on his thoughts as he spotted his home in the distance, but that wasn’t all he saw — there was a lot more cursed energy at home than usual — multiple people in his home, and his lips curled. 

He sneaks up, diminishing his presence to nothing, as he pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear them — 

“Too high, Itadori, lower!” Nobara barked, and Yuuji groaned, “come on, how long is it gonna take you to do this?” 

“Then why don’t you get up here and do it?” he snaps back, and Nobara scoffs. 

“I’m supervising, that’s why,” 

“EH? Who else are you supervising besides me?” 

“Stop messing around you two, and get the banner hung,” Megumi sighs, and Satoru could imagine him scowling, “Inumaki-senpai, do you need more balloons?” 

“Salmon,” 

“Maki, hurry up with cutting those strawberries, Nanami is almost done frosting the cake,” Satoru could hear Panda chewing and then a distinct THUNCK. 

“THEN STOP EATING THEM YOU DAMN ANIMAL!” 

“Alright, alright, stop fighting guys,” Satoru heard you sigh, “Nanami, I hope the frosting and cakes I baked were decent — I followed the recipe you gave me to a tee,” 

“You did a good job from what I could tell, but I’m pretty sure you could feed that idiot a plain cup of sugar, and he’d like it just the same,” and Satoru pouts, hearing Shoko laugh as well. 

“Especially if it’s from you,” Shoko teases you, as you scoff playfully, “can’t believe you two got married still — won’t be long until there are little Gojos running around, if Satoru has his way, with the way he’s been railing you,”

“Can we change the subject?” Nanami asks, disgust evident. 

You only chuckle, “Well, he’s insisted that we start trying once things settle down, saying it never hurts to practice, but—” and then your phone chimes, “Yaga said Toru’s on his way back for a while, he should be close.” 

There’s a mad dash and scramble as they put everything in its place, and Satoru leans against the side of the house — they even put up a curtain to hide their cursed energy on the inside, prioritizing invisibility. 

And Satoru grins  — all this for him? 

“Let me video call him and see where he is — I think I can distract him enough,” and he teleports down the road from his home, as your phone call comes through, “hi birthday boy, are you almost home?” 

“Almost,” he hums, “need something, sweetheart?” 

“Just my lovely husband home so I can cuddle him,” you smile, and he can see you’re walking into your shared bedroom now, sound of the door closing behind you, “got a surprise on for you under this dress,” 

And he’s pausing, “is that right?” And the party ebbs away from his mind, as your fingers slid the straps of your dress down, and teasing the baby blue and white lingerie set underneath, “my perfect birthday gift — all ready for me to unwrap?” 

“As soon as you get home,” and all blood flees his brain and heads southward, “I’ll be waiting,” 

And you disconnect the call — and he’s rushing now, party be damned. He would have you in bed, even if he had to sneak away with you upstairs for five minutes. 

He unlocks the door, and hears several bangs from poppers, as all of his students, colleagues, and friends shout “surprise!” And he smiles, glancing around at the birthday decorations, the birthday cake precariously balanced in Yuji’s hands, and you — grinning right at the front of the group, holding a bouquet of red roses. 

Everyone is stepping up to wish him a happy birthday, even grumbling happy birthdays from Megumi and Maki, as his arms curl around you after, “did I fool you?” 

And he only smiles, “I’m always a fool for you, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, only yielding disgusted groans from most of your students, “and don’t think I forgot about my present,” he whispers, while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “I have a feeling I’ll be tearing off the wrapping soon enough,” he winks. 

You roll your eyes, “Party first, presents later,” your hand finds his as you take him to mingle. 

Satoru doesn’t get his wish of a secret rendezvous with you — but he does get several other gifts from his students — a blue ray of Human Earthworm 4 from Yuji, Crocs from Nobara (“they’re as tacky as you are”), Megumi gives a gift card (Yuji: “No creativity,” Nobara: “Seriously how boring,” and Yuji earns a fist to the head from Megumi). The second years’ pitched in and bought him a book on ‘how to date’ (“it was Yuta’s idea — he’s not sure you know how to date even after getting married”). 

He’s being pulled over to cut the cake that Yuji miraculously only dropped once (but Maki had luckily caught), you at his side, as everyone crowds around for him to cut it, and he thinks, maybe he doesn’t need to be understood as the strongest — maybe he can just be understood as Satoru Gojo, and that can be enough. 

And he blows out his candles, as your fingers interlaced with his, and he’s cutting a particularly big chunk to feed you, nearly smearing it over your lips, “What did you wish for—umph—” and he’s kissing you, the sweet frosting didn’t compare to the sweetness of your lips, your fingers finding his shoulder, and he barely hears the groans of his students, parting as you softly pant, beautiful smile spread on your face, “Toru—” 

“I have everything I could wish for,” and he’s pressing his forehead to yours, before you kiss his nose, only to drag some frosting across his cheek, “oi!” 

“That’s for smearing cake all over my face,” you brush the crumbs from your chin, and he only grins wider. 

As he’s pulling you close with an arm around your waist, his breath warm against your lips, “Will you help clean it off?” and you roll your eyes, as his students grimace at his words, booing him. 

You only give a small smile, and kiss his cheek, whispering, “...after they leave,” and they do soon enough, after everyone enjoys their slice of cake and a few drinks (Yuji sneaking a glass of wine when Nanami isn’t looking), they leave to go back home. 

Satoru collapses on the couch first, and then you toss yourself beside him, throwing your legs over his lap, “Tired?” you curl yourself against him, your head finding his shoulder, nose brushing against the warm nape of his neck. 

“Was that mission earlier your doing?” 

“Well how else would I get you out of the house with all your pestering? And knowing you, you would have kept me in bed all morning,” and he laughs, as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you properly into his lap. 

“How’d you see my birthday wish list?” and you scoff, as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “you still have one more gift to give me, one that you teased me with earlier,” and his fingers are creeping up your bare thigh, squeezing teasingly at your flesh. 

“Two more, actually,” and he’s tilting his head, as you grab the bouquet of flowers from the coffee table where he had left it, “you missed something in here,” 

And he’s smiling, as he pulls a small box nestled in the middle of the roses, “What’s this—” and his fingers are too quick for his question, as he’s met with your gift. 

Positive. 

He stares — stares if it would disappear before his eyes, that somehow the six eyes were wrong this one time — the one time it mattered. 

“Are you really surprised with all the practice we’ve been getting in?” and he gives a brief chuckle, shaking his head, as you chew your lip at his relative silence, “wow, have I rendered the great Satoru Gojo — the man who never shuts up even when he should — speechless?” he still says nothing, “Toru? Say somethin—” 

And his arms are wrapping you in a hug, pulling you fully into his lap, as he engulfs you in his warmth, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Are you sure I’m the father?” 

You snort, “Satoru, I swear to god, I’m going—” 

And his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, palms cupping your cheeks, as his blue eyes swim with a happiness you’d rarely seen before, as he presses kisses all over your face, until he’s kneeling before your stomach, pressing a sweet kiss to it. 

“You better look like your mom or I’m going to demand a re-do,” 

You huff, “Satoru, we aren’t having another kid for at least three years—” 

“We didn’t mean to have a kid right now, but we are,” he gives a devilish smirk, before you cross your arms, unamused. 

“I swear, we have another kid before three years are up, and I’m sleeping in a separate bedroom,” and his arms are looping around your waist to pull you close. 

“You can’t resist me for that long,” and he’s pulling into a kiss again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your lips part. 

“Try me,” and he pouts before you laugh, tugging him to the bedroom, “come on, birthday boy, I believe I owe you one last present,” and his lips are curled again as he follows you eagerly, your dress over your head and on the bedroom floor before he’s two steps into the room. 

December 7, 2018. 

A day that changed the balance of Satoru Gojo’s family life — for the better. 

a/n: this was supposed to be pure fluff but turned into angst / fluff - as always. i can't write anything w/o angst.

tag list: @merzel69695, @senseiigojo, @forest-fruits-jam, @forest-hashira, @amanemisamisa, @ririthedevil, @a1is0n-png, @chosomoso, @hawkwithsocks, @aliyalala, @icecubesaredelicous, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @acewoo, @sodoney,

#sab [mlist] #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #dividers by @/saradika

[jaylaxies]

GLOSSY LIPS | NJM

pairing: fwb!jaemin × fem!reader

wc: 1002 words

cw: smut, public sex, cunnilingus, fingering.

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

a/n: i dreamt about jaemin being a sucker for pussy and decided to share it with the world :3

Jaemin isn’t the one to think about decorum when it comes to you, especially when he’s got some sort of odd fixation of having the urge to eat you out each time you go out (you keep his lips glossy and moisturized; is what he says), whether it is a lunch date with your friends or a random outing with Jaemin, he’s gonna make sure to do one thing—eat you out, no matter what.

It was to no one’s shock that you forbade from taking your panties off, especially when you were in public as you were still traumatized by that one incident where you had almost flashed Jeno, simply because Jaemin couldn’t stop himself from stuffing your panties in his pocket after eating you out in the bathroom, which you were glad was clean.

So, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Jaemin when you gave him the look which was a clear warning as to tell him to not pull any of his stunts this time, but he only smiled the softest of his smiles, the kind that anyone would mistake as the smile of an angel, which is not the case with you as you clearly know about the sin he’s about to commit.

It’s your monthly dinner date with your friend group tonight, the extravagant restaurant only makes it even more special than the usual ones. Hyuck is busy talking to Mark, while Renjun is explaining some theory of his to Jeno and Chenle. Jisung is busy eating, while Karina and Ningning are busy discussing the latest gossip.

Jaemin couldn’t have been more happy that the tables were fully covered with the table cloth, meaning: if he were to go in to play with you a little, then nobody else would be able to spot him inside. It was almost comical the way he crouched down, thankful that he was sat at the corner, which helped him not garner anyone’s attention. You gulped as you saw him grabbing the cloth, holding it up for him to get enough space as he got under the table, careful to maintain the distance with anyone who’s not you, crawling close to your knees with a sinister smirk on his face. You gasped then second his hands separated your legs, and you cursed yourself for wearing a dress tonight.

Jaemin knew he wasn’t allowed to take off your panties, you had made that very clear beforehand, so he simply settled down between your thighs and got closer, his glossed up lips brushing against your inner thigh, leaving a soft kiss right on the same spot, followed by many more as he peppered open mouthed kisses all over, but not where you needed him the most.

“Where did Jaemin go?” Mark asked two minutes after the disappearance of Jaemin, unaware of the activity that was taking place under the table, “oh—he went to the washroom,” you managed to speak up with a shaky tone and he nodded in understanding, “ah—I didn’t even notice him leaving,” he laughed and you laughed back, stopping the second you felt Jaemin’s tongue on your lace panties, right on your clit.

You didn’t allow him to take the panties off, but you sure as hell didn’t say anything about him doing stuff to you while you were wearing them.

You bit on your food a little too hard as he pressed his lips against your clothed cunt, the lace allowing his spit to penetrate easily, causing the fabric to be wet instantly. He tried not to groan with how good you tasted as he pressed his tongue harder, lapping up the taste of you as much as he could, his warm breath fanning your cunt as he pushed the fabric of your panties aside, giving your wet pussy a sloppy kiss, caressing it with his fingers.

He didn’t care about being caught, the thought only made him harder. Jaemin had always been a bit of a freak, and he happily embraced the title, immersing himself as he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking on it as his fingers prodded your entrance, rubbing circles on your slit before pushing two digits in, curling his fingers inside to give you the most unadulterated pleasure he could while still lapping at your juices, almost as if he was drunk in your essence.

Your orgasm was so close as you spread your legs wider to give him more space, his strong arms holding your legs open as they started shaking, and you tried your best to keep up with the conversation happening around the table.

Jaemin was enthusiastic. If someone were to ask him to note down his favourite activities to do, then your name would be on top of that list, and it showed with how eagerly he pressed his face to your cunt, making you see white as you almost toppled over with how good it felt as you reached your high, granting Jaemin with the utmost pleasure of tasting how good he made you feel.

He’d pull the panties back to their place, leaving you all wet as he’d smile at your shaking legs, his eyes almost dazed as he wiped his chin, but not his lips.

He wanted to have the taste of you on his lips, the glossy appearance only made it look as if Jaemin had put on too much lip balm—which was a normal thing for him.

He made sure to be discreet as he got out and sat down on the chair again, successful as no one caught him, his smile only widening when you looked his way, your lip a little swollen with how hard you bit it to conceal your moans.

“Ay dude! When did you come back? Where did you disappear to?” Mark asked, wondering if he was that oblivious to miss Jaemin twice, but he only smirked, licking his bottom lip as he spoke up, maintaining eye contact with you.

“Just went out to get my lip balm.”

permanent taglist: @jaeminvore @hoondrop @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia

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