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coryosbaby · 6 months

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—ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ !

Mike Shmidt x fem! Reader

♡ Content Warning . oral, somno, rimming, pnv, breeding, marking, degradation and praise, dom! Mike

Mike Schmidt who lays in between your parted thighs on his day off. His hands settle on either side of your hips, and his nose presses against your cunt. And although you’re so needy for it, needy for him, he just… lays there. Your scent surrounds his senses, filling him up and making him happy. Just laying there smelling you gets his cock so hard but he’s so tired that he doesn’t want to do anything.

Mike Schmidt who will always give in to your whiny begs for his mouth after a few moments. Soon his tongue is parting your folds and he’s licking you to his heart’s content. Whimpers leave his lips as his lips slurp up your slick, his sleepy doe eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

Mike Schmidt who spends as much money as he can on you. Not even getting mad when you “accidentally” go over his spending limit. You begin to cry when he asks you, but he just coos softly as he holds your hand.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to be mad at you if you tell me the truth, okay?” And then, shortly after, as he’s unbuckling his pants, “You can make it up to me, gorgeous.”

Mike Schmidt who facefucks his gorgeous, dumb baby— aka, you. He makes sure to grab extra tight onto your hair and thrust himself messily into your tight little throat. His balls slap against your chin and he makes so many noises as he uses you. This is supposed to be a punishment, so he makes you get off on the nearest object instead of his cock.

Mike Schmidt who coos at you, pouting mockingly as he sees you rub your swollen clit against his work shoe.

“Aww, baby. Do you need to cum?”

Your eager nodding makes him chuckle, and he yanks you further down onto his cock until your nose is pressed against the brown hair at his base, pressing his shoe harder onto your pussy.

“That’s too bad. This is your punishment, sweetie, remember? Be a good slut and cum just like that.”

Mike Shmidt who, days later, has you clinging onto him as he holds you up with his strong arms. A camera in front of him, filming the entire thing, as his cock jackhammers into your sweet cunt. Groaning, whispering, “fuck, good girl, taking my dick so good, look at you, yes, baby, yes.”

Mike Shmidt who slams you against the nearest wall, cock still inside you, tip abusing your cervix over and over as he increases his pace. Using his teeth to leave an incredibly prominent bite mark on your that draws blood.

Mike Shmidt who cums inside you, moaning and saying that he’s gonna fuck a baby into you. He fills you up until you’re overflowing and then some, making sure to shove it back in with his fingers afterwards. He wants you to be a mommy so badly, and he’s going to make sure that it takes.

Mike Shmidt who timidly asks for a rim job one night. His cheeks redden as he asks the question, his pretty doe eyes avoiding your gaze.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He states shyly. The once dominant boy has now become incredibly shaken, but you just smile at him and excitedly agree.

Mike Shmidt who’s riding your face a few minutes later, hole clenching up on your tongue. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but at the same hes got this growling tone in his voice as he praises you. It seems that his dominant side has come back.

Mike Shmidt who groans from above you, working his cock and balls with his own hand.

“You’re so filthy, baby. Fuck, your tongue feels so good.”

“My sweet little angel, doin’ so good f’me.”

Mike Shmidt who’s puffy ring of muscle clenches as he finally shoots warm cum all over the bed, overstimulating himself and demanding that you lick all of seed up as he gets his dick up again watching you.

Mike Shmidt who loves to keep a pair of your lace panties wrapped around his car mirror. He lied to Abby and said that it was a scarf you had given him.

Mike Schmidt who fucks you during one of his shifts— he had a hard day, so he demands that you come and see him. He forces your legs apart and bends you over the security desk, and spanks your ass raw to relieve some of his anger.

Mike Shmidt who lets you play with him when he’s asleep. His dreams go away when you wrap your mouth around his soft cock and choke on him with sweet, sleepy tears rolling down your cheeks. When he wakes up, he praises you for taking care of him.

“Oh, baby. So needy, so good f’me.”

“That’s it, good girl, choke on it— no, no, honey don’t try to pull off. You wanted this cock, so I’m gonna give it to you, okay?”

“So beautiful. C’mere, let me taste that cute pussy.”

Mike Schmidt holding you after a hard day. Knowing you need a distraction, he lets you grind against his thigh as a way to relieve so stress. He presses you to him and leaves small marks against your neck.

“Just think about me, okay? Think about my hands, my mouth…”

“Awww, sweetheart. I know, I know. Life’s been so hard lately, hasn’t it? But that’s okay. Mikey’s here, baby. Gonna make it aaaaall better.”

#mike schmidt #Mike schmidt x reader #Mike Schmidt x fem! reader #Mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson #Fnaf #five nights at Freddy’s #Mike Fnaf #Fnaf movie #bunny writes ͟͟͞☆

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moonstruckme · 11 days

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I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)

Thank you gorgeous, love you <3

cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return.

And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy.

Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you.

“Okay?” Sirius’ breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?”

You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear.

“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.”

You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.

You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass.

Your breath stills in your lungs.

You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t.

“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?”

You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs, and it won’t let you speak.

“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?”

“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight.

Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”

It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance forward the way one might approach a feral kitten.

“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?”

To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant, and you try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?”

“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response.

You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”

“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs.

“I’m fine,” you say again.

“Please, sweetheart. Just try.”

You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over.

“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so uncalled for.”

“It’s not,” James says. “Can I—can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?”

“Please,” you squeak out.

He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.

“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.”

“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness, I never want to scare you like that.”

You shake your head. “You don’t.”

A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours.

“Hug?” you ask Sirius.

He looks surprised. “Are you sure?”

You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck.

Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe.

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igotanidea · 1 month

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Strain: Jason Todd x reader

A/N: nsfw themes. Not explicit but still, so I'd rather put MDNI here.

***

Every touch every move every stroke had only one single purpose.

To bring her pleasure.

And judging by the soft moans and gasps of delight he was doing quite a good job at it.

"Mmh...Jay..." she whimpered.

"Like that, princess?" He made his voice deeper only to tease her more.

"Yes, please... So good, don't stop..."

"I won't" he leaned to plant a string of soft kisses on her delicate and exposed neck. In return she gripped the sheets, her body responding to the caresses and rocking it's been subjected to. And Jason couldn't help but grin from complacency.

At this point he was becoming rougher, compressing her body like something that belonged to him, that only he knew how to handle and worship in the right way.

How to make her satisfied.

"You're so responsive and I love it..." he gasped pawing her skin and every curve.

"Cause your working in all the right places..." she whined her voice a little muffled from the fact that her face was buried in the pillow. "Though I believe you're getting too excited..."

"Yeah, you're still so tense Princess."

"Yeah it's been a heavy week..."

"Don't worry, we'll get rid of that in no time... Just forget that and relax with me..."

His hands moved lower on her body, getting more curious, wandering in all the right places as he kept moving. What was even more exciting, was that she couldn't see him, as she was lying on her belly. It made all the situation even more bone-deep cause as she was focusing solely on the touch and not other senses.

"Oh yes...."

"Here?" He pressed on that one spot and she moaned in acknowledgement. "Guess it's here then..." He smirked while continuing his attack on the new found place.

"Shit!" She whined arching her back a little "it hurts!"

"I know baby but trust me you'll feel better in a moment..."

For a few good minutes the silence in the room were being torn only by the groans and rustling of the sheets and after then a deep sigh of relaxation made Jason aware he finally reached his goal.

With a signature smirk he pulled back and laid next to her side searching for her eyes.

"Feeling better sunshine?"

"Much better, thank you. Dare I ask where you learned all that things?"

"Self education." He grinned

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, see those muscles?" Jason pointed at his chest and body "they did not come from nothing. And with all the soreness i had to deal with throughout I had to learn a thing or two about anatomy. Guess it came handy tonight huh?"

"I'll be sure to use your sevices more in the future."

"Sure thing princess" he kissed her forehead affectionately "I'll get you a regular customer discount."

"Tease!" she nudged his shoulder.

"Hey!" his reaction was immediate and took a form of grabbing her wrist "behave princess, you know my massages are good for your health and posture, you have no contrargument to that."

"Ok, fine! fine! They are. But unless you want me to use someone else's services you'd better accept payment for kisses."

Jason groaned in frustration.

She always knew how to take away any words of objection from him.

So what else could he do rather than accept his fate, nod his head and enojy the little smooches all over his face in the form of thanks for his professional rub down?

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n

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andysorbit · 4 months

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Zayne hard thoughts drabble because he's ruined men for me and I- this man ain't even real please send help

minors dni

The soft strokes of Zayne's tongue drag another orgasm out of you and you whimper and cry out as your hands weakly push his head away. Soft pleas filling the thick silence of his dimly lit bedroom.

"S- Sir... I- you- please... no more..."

"You shouldn't ask for something if you're just going run from it... I'm being nice with my choice of words considering you didn't ask me for this but rather, you begged me for it like you were some kind of a desperate whore..." Zayne chides with just the faintest hint of a smile, "You know you don't really want me to stop. You've had so many opportunities to stop me- you have one right now and instead of taking the opportunity, you keep choosing to take whatever I give you. Does that sound like a girl who wants her daddy to stop?"

"N- no," You whisper with a meek shake of your head, "No, sir."

Zayne gets off of the bed and you watch him loosen the remaining buttons on his shirt before shrugging it off, "Doesn't that sound more like a greedy girl who's only pretending she doesn't like being treated like an object?" He grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He loves making you feel helpless just as much as you love feeling helpless.

Zayne is a healer, naturally. He likes to cater to you and make sure you're not only healthy but happy, satisfied, and always falling more and more in love with him. You're his prize but sometimes all he needs is to make you feel small. It's never a bad thing, he knows how far is too far and he's always ready to put you back together once he's done breaking you.

"Yes, sir," You reply; voice wavering as he reaches down to ease his fingers between your slick folds. Still recovering from his tongue, you squeeze your legs shut.

"Hm... I didn't know you could close your legs being that you're always so eager to spread them for me. I like this. I like how conflicted you are right now. Only you could know that you can't handle something and still want it so badly."

Zayne reaches down to unbuckle his trousers and he stops, "You do it."

You stare at him blankly and swallow, "Do what?"

He gives you a humored huff, "Don't be stupid."

You give him a puzzled expression before reluctantly easing your hand down between your thighs. He grabs your wrist, "Do I have to draw you a picture?"

The air hangs heavily in the room and Zayne sighs impatiently before tapping the buckle of his belt, "Does that make sense?" he asks you shortly. You nod and sit up to clumsily unbuckle his belt. Shakily you open his trousers and press a kiss to his clothed cock.

Zayne rests his hand atop your head, "Good girl. Now don't dawdle. I've wasted enough time trying to point out the obvious."

#love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace hard hours #love and deepspace hard thoughts #zayne smut #love and deepspace zayne #zayne love and deepspace #neoculturecollectives #no minors allowed #zayne smut drabbles #zayne drabbles #love & deepspace #love & deepspace smut #zayne drabble #love and deepspace drabbles #Zayne scenarios #zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader

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onetimetwotimesthreetimess · 3 months

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Orange Peel Theory’s Got Nothing on Magnus Bane

“This whole thing sounds stupid,” Alec rolls his eyes at his siblings.

“That’s the point. It’s stupid but cute,” Izzy explains.

He thinks for a moment. “And Jace passed?”

“Jace passed,” Izzy nods.

“And so did you.”

“Yes,” Izzy smiles.

He’s not surprised, both his siblings are gone for their partners.

Alec doesn’t think a stupid orange peel theory is the true test of love but alas, mundane culture rarely ever makes sense to him.

“Alright. I’ll try it,” he sighs at their childish excitement, “but if Magnus doesn’t peel it and I have to get a divorce; I’m blaming you two forever.”

Izzy and Jace chuckle at him. “Okay, bro.”

Alec forgets about the stupid thing for the next few days. They’re busy and Magnus and he barely get any time together.

Then Izzy texts him one day, “Did you try it?”

Children.

Magnus comes out of the kitchen, with coffee for the two of them in his hands. Alec lets out a hand and takes one cup.

His husband sits on one end of the couch, his legs spread on the table in front of them. Alec sidles up next to him, closing any distance.

“Hi,” Magnus exhales against his mouth.

Alec smiles before kissing him. “Hi, baby.”

They spend the day lounging on the couch, trading slow kisses and touches. It’s been a while since they have got the time.

The kids are with Izzy and Simon today.

Then Alec remembers the stupid thing and decides to try it. He excuses himself and goes to the kitchen.

Do they even have oranges? He wonders.

He glances around the kitchen and finds a bowl of fruits with a few oranges in them.

Thank fuck.

He picks one up and walks back to the living room.

Magnus has a book in his hand now and his legs are stretched out on the sofa. He picks up the man's legs and makes space for himself, putting them above his.

He plays with the orange for a few minutes before he speaks, “Baby?”

“Yes, love?” Magnus looks up.

“I don’t feel like peeling this. Could you peel this up for me?” He asks, nonchalantly.

Magnus glances at the object in his hand and gives him an easy smile. “Sure.”

He hurrays himself internally and is about to pass the orange to Magnus before his husband snaps his fingers and voila—he has a plate in his hands with oranges peeled out and separated, displayed in quite a decorative manner on the dish.

Well, shit.

Alec huffs out a breath, picks up a slice and eats it, grumpily.

Magnus puts the book aside and shifts on the couch until he’s lying with his head on Alec’s stomach. He brings his hand to Magnus’s hair and runs them through it gently.

Another half an hour passes before Magnus comments. “You didn’t eat the oranges.”

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

“Well, he has magic, so I can’t blame him,” he points out to his siblings who laugh at the incident.

“Why don’t you try again?”

Alec rolls his eyes, “I have better things to do, you know? Like running the Clave?”

“Come on, just one more time,” Jace insists.

“Fine,” he relents because even he wants to see how it goes.

It’s a few days later when the chance arises. The boys ran them ragged this morning, shouting and complaining, not liking anything Alec made for breakfast.

It was one of those mornings when nothing either of them did was getting the boys to settle down. So, they’d accepted defeat and magicked them some ice cream.

Ice cream cures everything in their house.

They’re exhausted by the time they get to have their breakfast. At this point, Alec doesn’t feel like eating much, also he’s running late.

“Darling, what would you like for breakfast?” Magnus murmurs against his neck, his body a strong line against Alec’s.

He hums before picking up an orange, “I don’t know. Just peel this for me,” and hands it over to Magnus and continues, “I need to leave. I’m not very hungry, right now.”

“Alexander,” Magnus says in an affronted tone, “You know, how I feel about skipping breakfast. Not in this house.”

His husband drags him over to the coffee table and snaps his fingers. There’s a small set-up there now. A plate of pancakes with a side of berries. Bacon and sunny side up.

“Eat,” Magnus chides before he can say anything.

He smiles, shaking his head in affection before he starts eating. Then, Magnus speaks, “Oh, wait. I forgot,” before a magically peeled orange appears in front of it.

Alec groans.

“What?” Magnus asks innocently.

“Nothing. Thank you.”

Alec tries a few variations of the thing but the result is all the same.

He can’t test the stupid theory, not that he needs to, but because it’s fun and with each failure, his desire to get it done right increases tenfold.

His siblings can’t win this.

He’s competitive, fuck him.

There was a demon attack today and Magnus and Alec, as psychotic as it sounds, decide to make a date out of it.

They help each other get prepared.

Well, mostly it was Magnus helping Alec ensure that all his eight hundred blades were in place.

“Do you think demons feel anything?” He asks his husband as they portal to the location.

The warlock thinks for a moment, “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why?”

A mischievous grin appears on his face, “Well, if they did; they wouldn’t be able to concentrate while you looked like that.”

Magnus chuckles softly. “Flirt.”

They both reach home two hours later, taking their time between bantering and flirting while the three shadowhunters along with them groan at their blatant flirtation.

Not entirely exhausted, but the right amount of tired, both of them crash on the couch as they enter the loft. They’re met with two very excited boys, who immediately sober up a little seeing their tired states.

“You okay, Daddy?” “Bapak, are you tired?”

They hug the boys close and kiss their temples, letting them know they are well.

“Hungry?” Magnus asks.

“Starving.”

Then like an idiot, he asks the boys to bring an orange.

He flutters his eyes and hands it to Magnus.

“Peel,” it’s an order this time because Raziel, Magnus will know shit is up now.

“You just said you are starved. What is an orange gonna do?” Magnus raises an eyebrow.

“Just do it,” he whines.

“And they think I’m weird,” Magnus grumbles.

“Don’t use magic. You’re exhausted,” he warns.

Before he can pass off the orange to Magnus, Max comes running to him, snatching the orange. He snaps his fingers and there’s a plate in Alec’s hand again.

“Here, Daddy. I peeled it,” Max yells excitedly.

Internally, he groans like the biggest tragedy just occurred but outside, he can’t help but chuckle in response as he kisses Max on the cheek. “Thank you, baby.”

Fucking warlocks in his house.

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

The six of them are at the Tang Hotpot on a Saturday evening.

They switched Sunday brunch with Saturday hotpot for the day. Clary mentioned something about hotpot and Jace mentioned never having one and Magnus decided then and there, that it’s time to introduce the white assholes he hangs out with these days to culture.

“So, we put whatever we want to eat it inside this thing and it’ll cook?” Jace acts surprised.

Magnus rolls his eyes, knowing Jace likes to act like he doesn’t know anything about the mundane culture.

It’s always a 50-50 chance between Jace really not knowing something and him just fucking with everyone else.

“That is how cooking works,” Alec says sarcastically. “You cook what you want to eat and voila—“

“Not all of us have partners who can take us to any part of the world and have us taste world cuisine,” Jace grins.

“Clary can literally create portals,” Izzy points out.

There’s a large pot in the middle of the table, divided into two sections. One is the traditional broth while another is a spicier version of the broth with added garlic and spices.

Magnus prefers the spicier one.

Bowls of broth are placed next to the pot to be added as required. Next to them, platters of raw ingredients are present. There’s thinly sliced meat including beef, pork, lamb and chicken. Next to it is a plate filled with seafood—shrimp, and fish balls. Accompanied with it are noodles and dumplings of a variety.

And then there’s all the leafy vegetables.

The best part about a hotpot is that it is the only preparation with which the boys usually are okay eating vegetables. Most of it has to do with the fascination the cooking element of it brings but regardless, if his kids are eating vegetables, for whatever reason, Alec counts it as a win.

Magnus sits next to him, a hand dragging a random pattern on his thigh as Alec murmurs something against his ear, pulling a small grin out of the man.

“We are out in public. Stop with the obscenity,” Izzy grins.

Alec sticks out his tongue at her.

Years ago, Alec never thought it would be like this one day. He could never comprehend something like this.

An average Saturday dinner with his family and friends, as he sits next to the love of his life, his husband, Alec’s husband—like that very thought wouldn’t have made Alec throw his fists into a punching bag until they bled.

They’re waiting for the last of the preparations to arrive so they still have a few minutes. Alec looks up at Magnus and plants an unhurried kiss on his lips. When he pulls back, Magnus has the sweetest look on his face.

The food arrives so they all straighten up to get started.

Magnus picks up a few pieces of pork and dumps it in the broth.

“This one has improved,” Magnus teases as Alec pours some spicy broth into his bowl. “His white ass couldn’t deal with the spicier broth the first time we tried it.”

“Jokes on you. You married me,” Alec grins back.

“Oh wow,” Jace explains. “This is too good,” he adds before he chokes realising that he dipped his chicken too much into the chilli paste.

“Weak,” Clary chuckles.

“You try it,” Jace challenges her. Clary dips her shrimp into the chilli paste and pops it inside her mouth, all the while keeping eye contact with Jace.

She doesn’t flinch or cough at all.

“I am so attracted to you right now,” Jace comments.

Simon murmurs something against Izzy’s ear and she laughs, heartily before smacking his shoulder lightly.

This is good, he thinks.

Magnus nudges him and without even looking, Alec turns and opens his mouth as Magnus feeds him a bite of fish ball.

“Too sweet?”

He thinks for a moment before replying. “You could add some sesame oil.”

Magnus hums at that.

There are a few pieces of mushrooms in his broth which he doesn’t like at all. He picks them up and puts them on Magnus’s plate who rolls his eyes at him.

“Why do you take mushrooms if you never eat them?”

“I’m picking them out for you. The best mushrooms in the world for you,” he says in mock seriousness.

Magnus shakes his head in fond amusement before he picks up the plate of seafood and a few shrimps. He puts down his chopsticks and starts peeling the shrimp one by one.

When he is done, he transfers the plate to Alec who smiles at him. “Thanks, baby.”

It’s a fun night as they all relax after an exhausting few weeks.

“Alec, do you not know how to peel a shrimp or what?” Izzy comments.

Alec raises his head and frowns. “What?”

“Do you not know how to peel a shrimp?”

“I do.”

“Then why is Magnus doing it for you?”

Alec tilts his head to find Magnus peeling a few more shrimps and placing them on his plate.

“Umm, I like doing it for him,” Magnus adds nonchalantly.

Alec thinks for a moment. As long as he can recall, Magnus has been peeling shrimp for him.

He thinks about Izzy’s question and scoffs—of course, he knows how to peel a shrimp.

Then why doesn’t he do it himself?

“Magnus?”

“Yeah?” The warlock replies as he takes another bite of a dumpling.

“When did you start peeling the shrimps?”

Magnus raises his head at him in a quizzical manner. “Like twenty minutes ago?”

Alec huffs. “No, I meant like at all. When did you start?”

His husband frowns. “I don’t know. Maybe the first time we went out for a hotpot. You seemed confused by everything so I helped.”

The first time was almost five years ago.

“Okay,” he mumbles before he adds. He doesn’t know why but he can’t help but ask. “But why are you doing it still?”

Magnus gives him a small smile. “Because you like shrimps.”

He says it like it’s the simplest of things. And maybe it is.

He huffs out a laugh. “And you couldn’t peel those dammed oranges?”

The small smile turns into a huge grin as Magnus replies, “Well darling, you didn’t really like those oranges, now, did you?”

Alec breaks into laughter. “You knew?”

“After the first two times, yes. I had my doubts,” Magnus laughs.

“So all this while you knew?” Clary laughs. “You were just fucking with Alec.”

Magnus glances around the five of them. “I believe that I was playing all five of you and not just dear Alexander.”

“You are so annoying,” Alec comments, even though he’s laughing.

“I’m annoying?” Magnus teases. “You are the one who was testing my love through an orange.”

“And you failed,” Alec announces, feigning hurt. “My poor heart.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I stop peeling the shrimps too?” Magnus asks in amusement, and it’s entirely too enticing with a shrimp between his chopsticks.

Alec steals the chopsticks from Magnus’s hands and pops the piece inside his mouth. “Nope.”

They’re both home two hours later. Alec falls into the bed with Magnus on top of him, “Baby?”

“Yes, love?” Magnus runs his hands gently through his hair.

“You know what I realised?”

“What?”

Alec kisses Magnus’s nose before he speaks. “Some stupid peel theory has got nothing on you.”

——————————————————————————

For Anh @carelessflower 🌻🌈

#ugh I love these idiots sm #magnus bane #malec #alec lightwood

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moxfirefly · 2 months

Text

Greetings and salutations. I bring you a little nugget of something that’s been on my noggin for a while. I haven’t had the pleasure to experiment too much with AU’s so here I bring you two segments of just that.

Rated Mature.

So please enjoy and let me know if maybe y’all want more?

It was that scar.

You hadn’t been necessarily subtle about it. You’d stared, wondered what could’ve gone wrong to have a man nearly lose an eye.

You liked making up stories of strangers, what their backstory and futures could be just on looks alone.

But when blue eyes had met your own, looked up from the local news paper, you felt as if he’d heard your mental fictions.

He was pretty.

Blue eyes, strong features and built.

Because mutants tended to be built, imposing, rough, dangerous.

But there was a softness to Blue Eyes here.

Somewhere between restarting your brain and the soft rattling of him pushing his mug towards your outstretched hand, you had finally poured a re-fill of a lemony scented tea he had ordered twenty minutes ago.

The cafe was a passion project, something you’d done on impulse when you hopped on a plane to run away from New York and its hollowness and move to Osaka.

To run away from the bad memories…

A bad guy.

“Are you alright?” Oh? He spoke English.

You nodded, dipped the kettle and refilled his mug. “Sorry, mornings aren’t really my thing.” You chuckled to lighten the mood, watched the corner of his mouth lift as he reached for the mug.

“Working in a cafe must’ve been a tough option.” His lips pressed to the ceramic, a large hand holding it as he softly blew.

The peak of a finger missing an inch to it making you squint.

Just how many scars could one individual have?

But he had looked at you again, piercing blue eyes gaging your thoughts, somehow digging into what your story was. Maybe he had made up his own.

You should’ve known, should’ve seen the tattoos peaking from the cuff of his dress shirt, the roughness to his demeanor.

You should’ve sensed the danger.

________

You ran from danger back in New York only to somehow find yourself enchanted by something far worse.

Because Leonardo (he had introduced himself at long last) screamed dangerous.

But he kept coming back to the cafe, each day he stayed just a little bit longer, his small talk became more of a lighthearted interrogation.

And those damn eyes of his never seemed to not follow you around the counter as you prepared and brewed for the patrons of the morning. His eyes were watchful, something kind of protective to them. Whenever the bell for the door ran he’d always cast a careful backwards glance.

Anticipating something?

He seemed to travel on the edge of a knife, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.

And you wanted to ignore the obvious, the setting, the place, the fresh cuts and bruises on his hands. You wanted the fantasy to remain just that.

Because deep down you knew that he ran in that lifestyle.

Yakuza.

It rang like an alarm in your brain, warning sirens to not get involved, to not find yourself in the fire pit.

One afternoon as he remained during your closing, he had stood up and adjusted the cuff of his suit.

“Do you wanna have dinner with me tonight?”

It was a simple question, a razors edge to it, the anticipation mixing with water running from the sink. You had stopped, hand sopping wet from washing mugs and glasses.

You stared at him, watching those calculating eyes of his gage your reaction.

That little voice told you to say no, desperately to just let this be a fleeting thing. Let Leonardo be a fantasy, don’t jump into that dark ocean and let the current sweep you away.

“Yes…I’d like that.”

‘These violent delights…’

It felt more like a light version of Wack-a-Mole. Gently but intentionally shoving all these screaming adolescents and young adults away from the object of their desire.

You waved and smiled, signed what you could when several high glossy portraits of yourself were shoved into your eyesight. A massive arm wrapped around your shoulders and tugged you into hard scales and you caught the warning glare Raph had shot to a handsy guy.

‘Just get her to the hotel entrance’ That was all Raph was thinking, if he could haul ass with you through this sea of screaming fans in the next sixty seconds he’d pat himself on the shell.

So he held you closer, pushed through and as gently and professionally as he could pushed through the doable doors.

Hotel security could keep everyone at bay, your poor assistance somehow alive and inside as well moved quickly to the front desk to check you in.

“Never get tired of that shit?” he asked you with a smirk, making sure to keep your body covered by his much larger form.

“Just part of the job description, some of them can be endearing.” You adjusted your sunglasses, shooting a thanks to your assistant when they jogged back towards you with a room card.

“Y/N you have an interview tomorrow at 9am so there’s a 7am wake up call for hair and makeup to get up to your room. After that it’s the photo shoot at noon and finally the concert at MSG, I’ll be here early to get everything started.” They were an efficient assistant sometimes doubling more like a parent.

“She got time to sleep somewhere in there peepsqueak?” Raph was already escorting you towards the elevator. Your assistant rolled their eyes.

“Be nice Raphie, they keep the order, I just do the fun stuff.” You waved back as you climbed into the elevator with Raph.

In the quiet steel and glass you took a minute to sigh and stretch. While it was fun it could be pretty exhausting running around from show to show. You felt your phone vibrate, the work one, and allowed yourself the luxury of not dealing with it. Closing your eyes briefly you centered yourself.

“Ya good?” Raph’s voice, the soft one he only reserved for you, mixed with the ping of each floor.

“A little stiff, but I’m alright. What about you?” You watched Raph huff a little laugh, incredulous to assume that this was enough to even remotely tire him out. When the doors open he stepped out first to make sure the halls were empty before alerting you to follow suit.

“You know you can chill out now, clock out technically.” You opened the door to your latest hotel suit and watched Raph go in and do his usual perimeter walk.

One time some obsessed fan had hidden in the suit you had stayed in, and while it hadn’t been a violent situation it had spooked you and angered Raph enough to always check the room before letting you settle in.

“Looks clear, although C- for not having those chocolates on the bed.” Man he kinda wanted something sweet.

He smiled at your laugh watching you plop on the chase lounge near the window.

He could feel his own phone, not the work one, vibrate in the pocket of his jeans.

“Do you want to stay?” Came your voice, light and floaty like an inviting drink.

Raph knew this wasn’t exactly right, but it hadn’t been right the last fourteen hotels ago.

You turned to study him, a flirtatious smile spreading across your beautiful lips.

Those lips had been around his dick last night on the limo ride to some after party.

Something in the jittery electric feel of his legs, urging him to move, to put an end to this not so professional relationship.

“Raphie?” You asked, jacket coming off, heels being kicked off, skin inviting him.

He ran the back of his palm across his mouth, caught the faint scent of you from just this morning (where he had fingered you in the shower of the last hotel).

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He swallowed the nerves, swallowed it and let it simmer in the pit of his stomach.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt au #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #Raphael #Leonardo

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 months

Text

Lambert and the Tribute

Ok. Hear me out. You know how there is the porny/smutty trope of the witcher who saves a family/town from a dangerous beast? And the towns folk are like, well, we don't have (or want to spend) money, so, here is our young sexy innocent but eager son/daughter as a tribute? *cue porn music*

So as usual last night, I was thinking about blorbos and shit instead of sleeping, and was like...how about we turn that trope around a bit? (not that there is anything wrong with it, I just like fiddling with tropes)

I present to you my concept, and I'm using Lambert for this because as I thought of it, I could hear his voice in my head.

...

So, Lambert comes back from the hunt, exhausted, out of breath, bruised, cut up, but triumphant.

He stands in front of the penniless farmer with the gnarly severed head of a beast. He has saved all of their lives. Because of him, life continues.

But the poor farmer is clearly distraught. He is a young man, early twenties, and is like...thank you so much Mr Witcher sir, we are mighty obliged. But sadly, tragically, we have no money. The harvest was lost, and we are hungry as it is.

The poor farmer tries to explain. Sir, I would gladly offer you my sexy and eager but wide eyed and innocent daughter as tribute, but tragically, my kids are too young to be sexy tributes. Mr. Witcher, they simply aren't reproductive age yet.

And the farmer is standing there, just anxious as hell about what the witcher will demand instead, like, will it be his young bride? His beautiful raven haired wife? They're basically newlyweds still and so very much in love. He can't abide the thought! He's racking his brain, is there anyone young and nubile and teen of aged in the next town???

And then he realizes fuck, WORST OF ALL, I hope this fucker doesn't want the law of surprise because that never ends well. Inside, this man is screaming, please do not take my kids in any capacity.

But isn't that what witchers ALWAYS want??? Children to make into MUTANTS????

So this poor (in every sense of the word) guy is stammering and angsting, but Lambert isn't paying any attention to him. He literally has not said a single word to him. He's not even looking at him. He's leaning a little to the right and looking past this guy, over his shoulder.

The farmer starts to get annoyed. Mr. Witcher, he thinks, I'm struggling here, help me out a little.

Lambert drops the nasty monster head with a thunk and turns back to the guy. Lamb is not particularly put out. He knew this family was poor. But still. This doesn't have to be for nothing.

He wipes the bloody sweat off his forehead with his arm and nods behind the man.

"What about him? He game?"

The farmer looks like his brain has just blanked out. He stares in silence. He slowly turns and looks behind him. Then he turns back to Lambert, waiting for him to laugh or to clarify. Lambert just stares at him expectantly.

"Well?" Lambert asks.

The penniless farmer is like.. "You---you want...m-...m-"

The young farmer doesn't wanna say it because that can't be right and he doesn't wanna embarrass himself. But Lambert is not helping him out at all. He's just looking at him like he's an utter dumbass, just waiting for him to get his shit together. "Spit it out, man."

Farmer tries again. "Mr. Witcher, sir. Are you saying that you want...my... FATHER?"

Lambert looks back at the object of his fascination. An older man is working, hauling bales of hay, loading them up in a wagon. And this man is like, mid-fifties, barrel chest covered with gray hair, full beard, inhospitable expression, overalls, dusty boots. He's thick, muscled and hard, he's covered in sweat, he's got calluses, he looks exactly like a man that's been busting his ass in the fields for more than a few decades.

As Lambert stares at the father, his expression starts to look a little hungry. "Is that your pops?"

"Uhhh yes?' The farmer's voice kind of screeches into a higher register.

Lambert shrugs. "Ok, well yea, your pops then. Ask 'im if he's game. Go ahead. I ain't got all day."

The young farmer just swivels, his eyes still in disbelief, still thinking he's going to humiliate himself. He wants the ground to open up and swallow him. He is starting to think maybe his youngest kid would make a good witcher after all. But Lambert is waiting and doesn't look perturbed. He doesn't look like he's kidding.

"Uh, dad?" The farmer is well, well into adulthood but his voice still cracks. But his dad hears.

The big older guy drops his bale and turns around. His eyes are sharp and hard. "Yep?"

The young farmer swallows. "Yes, um, father, the witcher here saved us."

"Obliged." The older man's voice is low, gravely, and he sounds like a man who does not suffer fools.

Lambert nods, an eager twinkle starting to gleam in his eyes. "Glad to help. It's what I do."

The young farmer continues, "And well, you know, we don't have any money to pay him. What with the bad harvest and all."

The dad nods, waiting. He's quiet too, not helping the young farmer out at all. So the younger farmer soldiers ahead. "So, father, he, the witcher that is, was wondering, um, if you would, um, want to be the uh..." he takes a breath and tries to say it fast, "tribute."

The young farmer almost faints from mortification. He's waiting for his dad to laugh at his idiocy. To shout at him. To kick his ass.

But what the Dad does is slowly raise his eyebrows. Then he turns purposefully towards Lambert. He switches his weight a little to one of his hips, and just quietly begins to look Lambert up and and down, assessing him with extreme interest. He is silently just raking his eyes from the top of Lambert's head down to his toes.

Lambert's grin gets wider, like it gleams, because at this point, he knows he's in. If the man is checking whether he is his type, then well, he's good with men. And Lambert just knows he'll be this man's type. Why wouldn't he be for fuck sake?

When the older man's gaze gets to his crotch, Lambert gives his prick a cocky little squeeze and licks his lips.

The older man grunts, and if the young farmer didn't know it was an interested noise, he certainly does when his father gives Lambert a wink. "Name's Abe, young buck."

The young farmer whispers several prayers for the gods to deliver him from this moment.

"Hi Abe," says Lambert, just eager and smug sounding as shit.

Abe takes his gloves off and hands them to his son as he passes him. He only says three words. "Don't wait up."

Lambert chuckles to himself, and there is a little hop in his step as they walk off together, since he is already anticipating the cock in his ass and could not be more overjoyed. Abe slides his hand down Lambert's trousers and squeezes his ass possessively.

The younger farmer just stands there with his jaw dropped. He had no idea whatsoever that his dad has this side to him. That man silently and stoically raised a family of seven children with his dearly departed mother, rest her soul. All his father ever did was work. You think you know a person. Honestly.

Lambert and Abe are long gone, and the son is still standing there in shock, when his beautiful young bride comes out of the house with a toddler on her hip. "Where did father go?"

The young farmer always likes that about his bride, she calls his dad father. "Yes. Heeee, um, went to pay the witcher for his services."

The young bride is surprised, she didn't know that father had money after the poor harvest they'd had, what with the locusts and all that. But oh isn't that a nice surprise, she thinks. "Well how generous of him. What a kind and giving man father is."

The young farmer puts his arm around his beautiful bride and pulls her in tight. "You know what my darling," he says, "it didn't seem like he minded in the least."

---the end

(and if any of you talented writers out there wants to write the sex scene, I would pledge my eternal friendship and love to you)

#the witcher #the witcher fanfic #lambert #this is for my lambert loving homies #you know who you are #descarada writes

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cryptidcorners · 6 months

Note

Can we have Mike taking care of his sick girlfriend? Or vice versa, with the girlfriend taking care of him?

Morning Fever - Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

Description: You're struck with a horrible sickness, and Mike refuses to let you overwork yourself like this. In a way to make up for all you've done for him, he indulges you in a day of soft care.

# requested by anon .

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt

Tags: Girlfriend!Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Soft!Mike, Sick!Reader, Care (Receiving), Slice of Life, Domestic, Cute Stuff, Cuddling + (This may or may not be the tall reader from short problems, but height isn't specified ✋)

Warnings: Descriptions Sickness, Unhealthy Work Life Mentions

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

You awoke to a jaded pain in your head, as well as Mike's arms wrapped around your body softly. You figured your sudden aches were due to dehydration, or from your horrific work hours. You rolled onto your side with a tired hum, eyes fixed on his lazy curls and peaceful expression. Your fingertips ghosted to his face tenderly and rubbed featherweighted circles across his bristles with a warm chuckle. His senses were disturbed, and he pressed his lips against yours before opening his eyes.

"Well, good morning." You greeted.

"It's still dark out." Mike replied, voice wreaking in depth from his exhaustion. "You don't go to work in a long time." He asked with a yawn. "Go to sleep."

He rested his head on your shoulder sleepily while he kept hugging you. It'd be a couple more hours before Mike would truly need to get up, as well as you. "I figured I'd just get up early." You sat up, drawing out a desperate grumble from Mike as his grip weakly fell off your body. You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair, "You know I can't stay in bed forever."

"Yes you can. If your boss has a problem, I'll kick his ass." Mike mumbled with his head buried in his pillow. "Just a few more seconds, please, baby?" He pleaded.

"I got to get ready, Michael." You kissed his head. Before you could stir out of bed, you began coughing violently. In a split second, you could already feel his hands behind your back. He was already rushing to take care of you.

"Are you okay?" He asked and you only replied with a vibrant nod as you cleared your throat. "Yes, I'm—fine. It's just a cough."

Mike frowned and held you close. "No, you sound like you have the flu or something. You want water?"

"No, I can't. I need to go to work." You assured. Mike's palm pressed against your forehead, "You're burning up."

"I just need some air," you protested. "I can't be late."

"I can't let you go out sick like this." Mike continued. He was growing desperate, "Just rest. For me, okay? I can take off today, and I can call your boss."

"Mike," you whispered while growing agitated. As much as you wanted to rest, you were a struggling workaholic. You couldn't just not go. "You need to rest, understand? Do you feel anything else?"

"Just a headache, and my throat is a little raspy." You described. You watched him walk out of the room and into the darkened hallways. Firefly light flickered, illuminating the wooden walls and Mike's moving shadow as he went to scavenge for some type of pill to help you. You coughed, "Mike?"

"Just a second." He called. You could hear the collision of empty bottles and other objects from the cabinets. It wasn't long before he came back with a glass of water and an antibiotic. You knew that type of drug was expensive for him. You straightened up defensively, "I don't think I need it."

"Please, let me take care of you." He extended his hand, "You've done so much for me, this is the least I can do."

You couldn't resist his dreamy eyes and soft personality. In the end, you surrendered and ended up being tended to by him the whole day. Mike had speedily taken Abby to school, called your boss and drowned you in spaced intimacy. Even if you hadn't asked for anything in particular, he read your face and came back in record speed to get whatever he theorized you wanted.

You had forgotten how much you had lacked conversation with him during the work week, especially one as gentle as this. The television buzzing in the background as you both sat on the couch (different sides, of course) just rambling about . . . anything really. Even with his shy character, he still held a spark that could leave you starstruck.

A lot of sneezing and throwing up didn't stop him from leaving your side.

"Are you sure you aren't bored?" You ran a wet paper towel across your face. Mike shrugged, "Of course not." he said softly. "I wouldn't leave you sick like this. I love you,"

"Love you too." You echoed.

A.N: sorry i keep changing the format every post lmfaooo. hope u enjoy ,, went a lil crazy

#💤 mike schmidt #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf #fnaf movie #💌 request!#writing #writers on tumblr #mike schmidt fluff

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locker42 · 1 year

Text

Bounty Hunter - I Love You

Warnings: swearing, smut (can be skipped, won’t contain something relevant to the storyline), mentions of injuries, blood, stitches.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Grounder!reader.

Word count: 2780.

Series Masterlist.

Masterlist.

You opened your eyes to see a metal ceiling above you, the light shining down at you make you squint your eyes. As you slipped back to consciousness, you became more aware of the room you were in. You were laying on one of the beds in medbay, a tube connected to your cubital fossa. Your headache was much better, allowing you to sit up slowly.

“You should be resting.” You heard a voice say from your right. You turned and saw Nyilah approaching you.

“I just woke up.” You said, your voice cracking due to the smoke the invaded your lungs.

“How is your head?” She asked, stepping closer to you and gently touching your head, only now you were aware of the wound right by your hairline. You raised your own hand, touching the stitches that were made.

“It’s good, thank you.” You replied, dropping your hand.

“You’re welcome. There is someone who wants to see you, but I told him that you needed to rest a little before anyone could visit. You hit your head very hard and you need to let it time to heal.” She explained, however after she told you someone wanted to see you your focused left her almost immediately. Bellamy, he was the one who wanted to see you. And, god, you wanted to see him so bad. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and hold him tightly, you wanted to kiss him and just feel him.

Before you could reply to her, your attention was drawn to Clarke who entered the room, heading straight to you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” She asked you, coming to stand by your bed.

“I’m feeling good, and I guess I should be thanking you for saving my life. I’m pretty sure I would have died if you didn’t help me.” You said, giving her a thankful smile.

“That one wasn’t just me, actually.” She admitted, making you frown in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“After you passed out Roan came to your side and made sure that you got to medbay. No one was willing to come that close because the Ark was crushing down.”

You couldn’t help but feel surprised at her words. It didn’t make sense why Roan would help you, especially after what he’s done.

“Where is he?” You asked, letting your curiosity win this time.

“He’s in Arkadia.” She informed. “We’re supposed to have a meeting later about leaving for the island.”

“The island?”

“Yes, that’s where Becca’s lab is. My mom and a few more are already there, working on the Nightblood solution.”

“Nightblood? You want to make everyone immune to the radiation?” You asked, the idea not quite settling in your head.

“Exactly. But the Nightblood can only be made in space. There’s a rocket there so we need to bring them the fuel.” Clarke explained to you.

“When are you leaving?” You asked, twisting your body so that your legs were hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’m coming.”

“Wait, that’s not a good idea.” Niylah objected and took a step closer to you, making you turn to her.

“Why? I have all day to rest and then I’ll go. It’s not like I’m going to war.”

She sighed before nodding her head, however her face still showed disapproval.

“Where is Bellamy?” You hesitantly asked Clarke.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go get him.” She said and quickly turned around and left the room.

You fiddled with the tube connected uncomfortably to your forearm, then you noticed the now stitched cut. You took a deep breath before pulling the tube out of your skin, hissing as the action stung. After a minute or so Bellamy came rushing into the room, walking towards you.

“Y/N.” He said before wrapping him arms around you. You returned the hug, relieved to finally be in his arms. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” He asked as he pulled away, examining your head.

“I’m good, Bell.” You said and grabbed both of his hands. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, clearly not the one you should be worried about.” He said, making you roll your eyes. “How did you even get here? I though Roan left you at Polis.”

“He did, but I escaped. I came straight here to warn someone but before I could the ship exploded.” You paused for a second before you realized. “This was your solution, wasn’t it?”

He looked down before nodding his head. “And now it’s ruined, and so is our chance of survival.”

“Clarke told me about the Nightblood. She told me you were leaving tomorrow to bring them the fuel. There is hope, if Abby can turn us all into Nightbloods than we have a chance to live.” You said and gently cupped his cheeks. He offered you a small smile before drawing away.

“Come on, let’s get you to your room. You can rest there.” He said and helped you off the bed. After saying a last ‘thank you’ to Niylah, you followed him out of the room. He led you through the halls, insisting you lean on him as you walked. As you got to the room you noticed that on the door was a note that said, ‘Bellamy Blake.’

“This is your room?” You asked as he unlocked it with his keys.

“Yep.”

He opened the door, allowing you to step in first. You took a look around noticing some discarded clothes in one corner of the room, the bed was unmade, and there was a book on the bedside table. “Nice room.” You commented.

“Thanks.” He said and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. You took a seat on the bed, keeping your gaze on the wall in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You said, making him look at you with surprise.

“What do you mean?” He asked, coming to stand in front of you.

“For not coming back.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you cut him off. “I know you’re mad, or at least were mad at me. And it’s okay, I get it, I do.”

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and cupped your cheek, gently lifting your head to look at him. “You’re right, I was mad at you for not coming back but it wasn’t because of you, I just missed you. Things happened here and I just wished I could have talked to you about them.”

His words didn’t make you feel better, only more guilty as you looked away from him.

“There was just so much to deal with and I- I think I was scared to come back here.” You said quietly, still not looking up. “I mean, after what happened with Pike I didn’t think I would be welcomed here.”

“I understand your worries. But I promise you that no one is going to try and kill you or hurt you. I would never allow that to happen.” You finally looked up and met his eyes, a small smile rising on your face as you took in his features.

“I missed you, you know.” You said, bringing your hand up to run down his chest.

“I missed you, too.” He said and leaned down, locking your lips with his. The kiss started slowly, as if recognizing the other’s lips for the first time. You felt his tongue run over your lips and you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss. You placed your hands on his chest, then moving up to his shoulders and pulling him with you as you laid back. He followed your lead, climbing on top of you without breaking the kiss.

You felt at ease, you felt exited and relieved to be with Bellamy again. You pulled his body closer to yours, hearing his soft groan made shivers run down to your core. You slowly began to push his jacket off with your hands, but he pulled away before you could take it off.

“Y/N, we shouldn’t. You need to rest.” He said, his voice sounding deeper than usual, which only made you want to continue.

“I’m fine, Bellamy. I promise.” You said and pulled him back to you, placing a light kiss on his jaw. “I want you.” You said, then continued trailing kisses down his throat. “I need you.”

His jaw clenched before he slightly drew away to take off his jacket, then he moved back to you, kissing down your neck. Your hand moved to his hair, gripping it tightly as he found your sweet spot, making you moan quietly. You free hand moved to the bottom of his shirt, slipping your hand up and tugging it. He got your hint and took off his shirt. You all but drooled over him, running your hands down his torso, feeling the hard muscles beneath them. You moved your hands up, pulling him down to kiss you. He kissed faster and deeper this time, his hand coming to hike your leg up his hip. You moaned when you felt his hardness press against your core, your hips grinding up uncontrollably. He moved his hips against yours, gifting you the fraction you needed.

You’ve had sex before, but it never felt like that, not so soon. You’ve never wanted someone so bad, needed someone so bad. You sat up and pulled your shirt off, your bra coming in second. His eyes widened as he stared at your naked skin, before he leaned down and pressing his lips against the soft skin of your chest. As he sucked gently on the skin of your breasts you closed your eyes and gripped his hair, the other hand fisting the sheets. He flickered his tongue over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, drawing a whine from you. He gave the same attention to your other breast before moving his head up to look at you.

“Are you-“ he cleared his throat, “is this your first time?” He asked almost shyly.

You shook your head as your cheeks turned red. “No. Are you?”

“No.”

You stared at each other before you decided to take initiative. You moved your hand down to palm him through his pants, drawing a low groan from him. He dropped his head down to your neck and by the way you felt his hips grinding against your hand, you’d say he was enjoying himself. You wanted to have him, to touch him and to make him feel good, but you wanted to do it slowly - to tease him. You flipped, now laying on top of him. He looked at you, confused, but that expression didn’t last as you leaned down and started kissing his neck down to his collarbone and chest. You pressed your tongue flat over his nipple, feeling his hands coming to rest on your thighs. You grabbed them and moved them up to your ass before continuing your work. As you kissed down his torso you felt his hands shamelessly groping your ass, a smirk coming up to your lips. You licked just above where his pants started, his hips jolting up.

“Fuck..” he muttered, eyes closing. You slowly dragged his waistband down and let your tongue follow.

“Can I?” You asked, tugging further on the waistband.

“Yes, fuck.” He cursed, hands coming to fist the sheets.

You then opened the belt and pulled down his pants and underwear, just enough to take his cock out. Your mouth gaped open as you took him in, thick and tall with a purple tip and a little bit of precum adoring it. You gently licked over the tip, tasting him in your mouth. You opened your mouth for him but he suddenly pulled you back.

“As much as I’m enjoying this.” He said and sat up, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

He flipped you again, returning to his spot on top of you before ridding himself of his pants. His hand reached to your pants undoing the belt but not before receiving a nod of consent from you. He started tugging on your pants, a hiss from him catching your attention. You sat up and saw him suck his finger into his mouth, blood staining it.

“What happened?” You asked and grabbed his hand to assess the damage.

“Your many, many knives happened.” Bellamy explained with a chuckle.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.” You apologized but he quickly shut you up with a kiss.

“It’s okay, but I am going to need help in taking these off.” He said and pointed to your pants. You chuckled before carefully pulling them down and throwing them to the side. He gave your lips a peck before kissing down your body, leaving hickeys behind him all the way to your panties. He spread your legs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him access to your cunt. He placed a gentle kiss on top of your core through your panties, making your breath hitch. He began pulling your underwear off, discarding them behind him, before returning to his latest position.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He whispered as he ran his finger through your folds, making you gasp. Without any warning he licked a stripe of your pussy before moving to your clit, flickering his tongue. You moaned, hips jolting up but he held them down. Your hand moved to his hair — gripping tightly as he began sucking on your clit, his own hand coming up to grip your breast. You felt heavenly, what he was doing to you was heavenly.

He pushed his finger inside of you, your moans getting louder. “Bellamy, fuck, please.” You whined as he added another finger, feeling yourself getting closer. He moved his fingers faster and softly bit on your clit, the action made you go over the edge, gripping his hair even tighter as you yelled out his name loudly. You panted, trying to calm down as he made his was back up to you. His eyes met yours and you couldn’t help the smile the rose on your lips. He returned your smile before leaning down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought itself made you needy all over again.

You opened your legs and felt the tip of his cock tracing between your folds.

“You ready?” He asked, positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded your head with a whine of ‘please’, wrapping your arms around his back. Your nails dug into his skin as he pushed inside you, drawing moans from both of you.

“Can I-“ he groaned, “can I move?”

“Yes, fuck, Bellamy.”

With your permission, he started thrusting in and out of you in a slow and steady pace. As you got used to the feeling of him inside you, you pulled him close to you. “Faster, go faster.”

He obeyed, quickening his pace. Your moans were loud enough for anyone who walked by to hear but you didn’t care, your only focus was on Bellamy. His lip was locked between his teeth as he kept thrusting inside of you, grunts and moans escaping him. You ran your fingernails down his back as you almost screamed, getting closer. Bellamy felt you clench around him and he moved his hand down to draw circles over your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Bellamy, shit, I’m so close...” You moaned loudly, throwing your head back in bliss and closing your eyes. “I’m cumming.”

“Look at me.” He demanded as his thrusts were getting sloppier. Your eyes met his and by the dark look on his face only, you came. Your vision became foggy and your breathing was heavy as you. He pulled out of you, jerking himself off and cumming on your stomach with a loud groan of your name.

He dropped on top of you, panting. You wrapped your arms around him and held him close as you came down from your high. “I love you.” You said to him.

“I love you, too. So much.” He said and placed a kiss on your neck before leaning his head on your chat, breath still uneven.

You placed a general kiss on his head and started playing with his curly hair. He hummed in approval, pushing his head up. You chuckled, smiling wide as he lifted his head up to look a you.

“That was amazing, you are amazing.” He said before kissing you. You slipped your tongue in his mouth as you began to move on top on him, his hands coming to study you.

“How about round two, baby?”

#the 100 bellamy #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake x grounder reader #bellamy smut #bellamy blake #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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whatthefoucault · 2 years

Text

Ok no but hear me out, because what if, before Stede and the gang make it back to Ed and them on the ship to get the band back together, Ed finds out that in the intervening, like, couple of days, Stede “died” in the most absurdly dramatic way possible, and just sort of finds his way on sadness-autopilot to the Bonnet home, looking for, what, closure? Just to be where this man he loved so much came from and maybe, in some disjointed and incomplete way feel near him again, despite everything? And Mary’s there, clutching a sharp object behind her back and she’s like oh no a vaguely threatening crime man what are you doing here wait why are you crying and Ed’s like, I was... a friend of Stede’s, I think, and Mary’s stance softens, and she lets him in and makes a cup of tea.

And she explains as po-faced as one can “exactly” what happened, and they sit there awkwardly in the Bonnet front room, not having much to say to each other, and Ed takes in their surroundings, unchanged enough presumably from when Stede lived there to be both a visceral reminder of all of the wonderful things he was, and also a fierce indicator of why he chose to leave.

“Nice house,” he tells her, trying to remember the rules of small talk. “Did you... paint that?”

He points at a large canvas that now hangs over the sideboard of what looks to be a very detailed close-up of some flowers.

“I did, actually,” she says. “A couple of weeks ago. It’s - ”

“A lily,” Ed suggests.

“A vagina,” Mary says, at the same time.

and Ed nods, unsure how to follow on from that. Mary gives him an apologetic smile.

“So I guess you two were close friends?”

“I think so,” Ed tells her cautiously, not about to bare his entire soul and the deep, devastating love he holds for Stede to the man’s widow, for fuck’s sake.

“Well, he’s in a better place now,” Mary assures him. “He’s free.”

And with that, the tears are back, and despite himself Ed’s shaking and ugly-sobbing, and Mary begins to reach a hand out to give him a pat on the shoulder, but thinks better of it and just offers him a hankie instead.

And Ed’s emotions are catching up with his brain, but now his thoughts are too fast and too all at once to word them properly, but he’s trying anyway despite himself. “We were - I was going to - and then he, I thought, but - but then - ” he manages between sobs.

And Mary is given pause. Wait a minute, she thinks, as it slowly dawns on her. Why would it mean this much to this guy, unless

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Uhh, it’s Ed?”

And she lights up. He isn’t exactly who she would have expected, all goth and intimidating and stuff, but she also doesn’t know what she did expect. But on the other hand, if this is Stede’s Ed, then

“You’re Ed? Shit, what are you doing here? Stede’s going to be looking for you.”

Which makes no sense to Ed now, because “But Stede’s - you mean he’s a ghost?”

And she leans in with a conspiratorial smile. “Okay look, I obviously couldn’t tell just any old friend, but you’re Ed. It was, what did he call it? A fuckery?”

And Ed understands, he thinks, hopeful. “You mean... he’s...”

And Mary laughs. “No, he’s fine,” she tells him. “Staged the whole thing. It was brilliant! He’s gonna be out there looking for you right now.”

And Ed’s whole body melts with relief, pooling in the deep cushions of the velvet settee. There are too many emotions rattling through his body at once. edwardteach.exe has stopped working

“He's? Wait, how do you - no, doesn’t matter. No, yes it does. You've heard of me?”

And Mary’s like, “I know my ex-husband loves you very much.”

And Ed’s like

But wait, she’s cool with him just fucking off with another fellow, he thinks? And she explains that their marriage sucked and she’s fucking thriving and she’s genuinely happy he’s happy.

And after a few more biscuits, now that the mood has lightened considerably, she sends Ed on his merry way to go smooch her ex-husband probably. They’ve still got some shit to talk through together, and he’s going to hug that stupid brilliant man SO HARD and he’s still not sure what his emotions are doing, and he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he’s, like, so gay for Stede right now oh my god that absolute fucking human treasure ughhhhhhhhhh FEELINGS

And Doug comes in a few minutes later looking Terribly Concerned, as Mary’s brushing biscuit crumbs off the coffee table, and he’s like “Mary, are you ok? I saw a vaguely threatening man leave just now. He looked just like Blackbeard???”

And Mary’s like he

WHAT

#ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #mary bonnet #our flag means death #doug is there also #this is terrible but it wouldn't leave my head until i wrote it down #sorry

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yuurei20 · 5 months

Text

Translation from Twst the 2nd novel: Cater, Grim, Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Grim and the prefect split up into pairs to ask about the accidents befalling Spelldrive players:

"‘Yuu will come with me.’

‘Eh? 'Yuu will come with me?’’ Yuuya echoes Riddle’s words back at him with a puzzled look. ‘The two of us will be doing the investigation together?’

‘Yes. I believe that this is the best arrangement.’

‘Eh, but, no, uh…I can’t use magic, so I think I will only be a burden for you.’

‘That is precisely why I am pairing you with myself. The best possible solution is us working together so that you will have my support, as the person with the strongest magic and the deepest understanding of the school.’

‘I was thinking that I might do all right with one of the others, though.’

Riddle points a finger at each member of the group, in turn, as he explains: ‘Cater is to pair with Grim. Cater can get along with anyone, and he will cover for Grim’s erratic behavior. Ace and Deuce are to investigate while seeing to their various tasks around the dorm. The first-years are busy with dormitory work this time of year, as the upperclassmen must prepare for the Spelldrive tournament.’

Riddle’s plan makes perfect sense. But there is no allowance to be made for Yuuya, who can already feel himself becoming overwhelmed.

Yuuya and Riddle have hardly ever held a conversation. And those rare times that they have interacted have not been on particularly friendly terms. And now they are to be alone together, and Yuuya cannot tell how he is even supposed to interact.

He is uncomfortable about approaching Riddle casually, like Ace and Deuce, and he cannot imagine Riddle initiating a friendly conversation, as if he is no different from Trey and Cater.

‘Do you object?’ Riddle asks with a curious look, in response to Yuuya’s stuttering. Despite Yuuya’s frankness, Riddle seems oblivious to the possibility that he may be disliked.

Yuuya is, honestly, somewhat afraid of Riddle. Possibly even more so than he had been back when Riddle was called the tyrant. Because, now, he has seen Riddle’s overblot form.

How can a human possibly harbor such forceful rage, such crippling sadness?

As someone who avoids all conflict in favor of going about his life as peacefully as possible, Yuuya has difficulty understanding this ruthlessness. Does Riddle feel nothing towards these people with whom he clashed barely a month prior? Is Yuuya the only one uncomfortable with the idea of being alone with him?

Yuuya glances to Ace and Deuce for help, but they both shrug. While nothing is said aloud, Yuuya manages to deduce what they mean through the movement of their lips: ‘Sorry, Yuu.’ ‘We can’t stop him.’

Flustered, Yuuya looks to Grim, who is quite happily focused on his tea and cookies. Blissfully oblivious to Yuuya’s situation, Grim is most content.

While looking a bit uncomfortable where he sits at Riddle’s side, Cater manages a smile. ‘Well, not much we can do. If you insist, Riddle-kun, then…’

Riddle gives a firm nod in response.

‘Our hands are tied,’ Cater says, with a wink and a wry smile for Yuuya. ‘It’s true that, for efficiency and to keep Yuu-chan safe, this might be the best option. Leave Gri-chan to me.’

‘Good. No objections?’

‘Can’t be helped. I’ll look out for Cater for ya.’

‘Got it! Understood!’ Ace’s reply is enthusiastic, and he spares a side glance to the flustered Yuuya. Ace has been grinning all the while, likely entertained by the combination of Yuuya and Riddle.

‘In that case, let us go our separate ways. Everyone get an appropriate amount of rest in order to be prepared for tomorrow.’

The three groups set their rendezvous locations, and the strategy meeting ends.

While they are, admittedly, making progress, Yuuya leaves Heartslabyul with a heavy heart.”

#twstnovel2 #twst translations #twisted wonderland #Kuroki Yuuya

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five-rivers · 23 days

Text

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 6

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Well,” said Danny. “That sucked a lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Daniel.”

“It’s just… What even was the plan there?” he asked the ceiling over the couch. “What were they doing? Did they think I wouldn’t notice if they just switched out while I was sleeping? Were they going to run the entirety of their council through while trying to distract me with stuff? Why did they even want to do that instead of just picking two of them?”

“I believe they wished to escape any specific, personal responsibility for you,” said Clockwork.

“Typical,” said Danny. “Are any of these people going to not lie to me?”

“I could not say. May I offer you some lunch?”

“Yeah.” Danny rolled off the couch. “What’ve you got?”

“Grilled cheese and soup,” said Clockwork. “I also have apples.”

“That sounds good. I’m, um, I’m not going back out right away. I can wait until morning, right?”

“As I said, you can wait here for as long as you want.”

Danny nodded. “It’s just… I don’t know, it’s just occurred to me that I don’t really know what else is here. Like, I’ve been in this room, and the kitchen, and my bedroom and bathroom, but not anywhere else here. If there is anywhere else. Did you decorate this place?”

Clockwork sighed. “I asked a friend for help,” he admitted. “They have an interesting sense of humor.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Danny, nodding.

“I don’t suppose you would like a tour after lunch?” There was a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, that sounds like it’d be nice.”

There actually wasn’t that much to the little house beyond what Danny had already seen. There was a little workshop, a formal dining room (currently set up for tea), another bathroom, and a small bedroom that looked as if it had never been slept in.

“Do you need to sleep?” asked Danny.

“Only once in a great while. I will not need to do so for quite some time.”

“What do you do in the workshop?”

“I have an interest in repairing clocks. The workshop is there to give me something to do while you are away.”

“That makes sense,” said Danny, trying to muffle a yawn that slipped out with his words.

“You’ve had a trying day. Why don’t you take a nap? I will wake you for dinner.”

“Is that really alright?” asked Danny. “I feel bad, leaving you just sort of stuck here by yourself.”

Clockwork shrugged. “It is no imposition on me. You could also avail yourself of one of the books in the library, or one of the ones you brought back from Jasmine’s.”

“Didn’t I leave those there?”

“They were presented to you as yours. As such, they now are. Of course, you also retain the things the Observants gifted you.”

“Including the video games?” asked Danny.

“Including those, yes.”

“Huh. I’m not secretly an Observant, am I? I know you said my appearance was changed, but I don’t think I could handle going from this to being an Observant.”

“I cannot tell you that, Daniel.”

“Right. The rules. Bleh. Bet the Observants made them to give themselves an advantage. They even put themselves on top of the list! Losers.”

Clockwork patted Danny’s shoulder. “That they did.”

Danny nodded, then started yawning again. He blinked hard and looked around the little workshop. “Maybe I could just watch you or something? I need an actual break from thinking after Jazz and the Observants.”

Clockwork nodded. “As you would.”

Dinner, naturally, was great. Breakfast was good, too, but Danny felt as if he wasn’t fully appreciating it on account of the massive weight of having to choose the next person to spend who-knows-how-long with while having nothing more than a single, mostly empty, piece of paper to learn about them.

“What if they all suck?” asked Danny.

“I thought you liked Jasmine,” said Clockwork as he handed over a cheese omelet with sausages.

“I liked her, but she was lying to me. I don’t like that.”

“A reasonable enough objection. However, a lack of honesty can be surmounted more easily than a lack of trust.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” complained Danny.

“For example, I am being less than honest with you by refusing to tell you certain things, but you still trust me more than the Observants.”

“Not telling me stuff is different than lying to me.”

“And yet, the English language does include the phrase ‘lie of omission.’”

“It's still different.”

“And you also trust Jasmine more than the Observants.”

“That's true,” said Danny. “But that's also partially because she sucks so much at lying. Maybe it's just that young people are bad at lying. But I feel like I'm better at lying, and I'm younger than Jazz, right? Otherwise she couldn't adopt me.”

“That is the generally accepted way of things.”

“Hm,” said Danny. “Maybe I'll do something closer to the middle. But not exactly the middle! That's what they'd want me to do.”

“I suspect the Observants expected you to simply go from the top of the list and be dazzled by their apparent wealth.”

“Yeah, probably. Still, it’s kind of funny to joke about. Like the brain thing with Jazz. But if I’m going to basically pick who I’m going with based on zero information, I might as well have the funniest reason possible for who I pick. Like, maybe I should pick this guy with a really weird name.

“Weird how?”

“He's got a bunch of them. Vladimir ‘Vlad’ Masters-Plasmius, Ceo Mastersoft, Ceo Vladco, Ceo– Wait, these are his job titles, aren't they?” He squinted at the page. “Who does this?

“Vlad Masters-Plasmius, presumably. But I believe that among his titles you have missed the name of the second person under that entry.”

“Really?” He ran his finger down the list. “Huh, yeah, this last one is separated out by a semicolon, I didn’t notice that. The Dairy King. Is that like the restaurant?”

“You will have to ask them when you see them,” said Clockwork.

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I guess so. It’d make these interests make more sense. You’d have to be pretty business savvy to run all those restaurants.”

“You don’t think the person who listed all their CEO titles is business savvy or interested in business?”

“Not if he lists it like that. That’s definitely overcompensating. Like, it’s way too, uh, what’s the world.” He whirled his fork in the air. “Boastful. People who have real skills don’t need to brag that much.”

“People from any level of skill may find occasion to brag.”

“Well, yeah, but not that much. Right? Vlad’s probably the football guy.”

“Again, you will have to find out when you join them. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Danny picked up his plate and put it in the sink.

“And you want to visit Vladimir and the Dairy King?”

“Yeah. The others sound more normal, so I’ll save them for later. Better to get all the really strange ones out of the way, right?”

“That is, again, your own choice.”

“I knew you’d say that,” he said. He spread out his arms. “Take me away, then.”

The portal whirled into being around him and deposited him in a green and gold atrium. It had a passing similarity to the Observant’s foyer, but was more colorful. It also had more football in it. Like, literally it had more football in it, in the form of several footballs in glass cases.

Maybe ‘Plasmius’ or ‘Masters’ or some other part of this guy’s name had something to do with football. At least a football Obsession would be… well… it would be something.

Yeah.

“Daniel!” said a tall, silver-haired man, spreading his arms in welcome. He wore a slick suit. “It’s so good to see you. I am Vlad Masters-Plasmius, your godfather.”

“Oh, hi,” said Danny. He looked around. “Isn’t there supposed to be another one of you? The Dairy King?”

“Ah, yes,” said Vlad, looking to the side. “My grandfather. He will certainly join us shortly. Normally, it would just be me here, but I must confess that I am not what you would call a great cook. I can avoid poisoning myself, but my grandfather is much better, and he’s agreed to help.”

“That’s nice of him,” said Danny, deciding to close the rest of the distance between himself and Vlad. “So, is the football stuff yours or his?”

“Mine. I’m something of a fan of the Packers.”

“That’s Green Bay’s team, right?” asked Danny, trying to bring a fuzzy memory into focus.

“It is! Are you interested in football?”

Danny shrugged. “I’ve not seen any games that I remember.”

“Something we’ll have to remedy. I have my favorite games recorded, and a theater to watch them in. It isn’t the same as seeing them live, but it will give you an idea of their flavor.” He patted Danny’s shoulder and guided him towards a staircase. “Come, now, I have much to show you. I’m sure you’re wondering how I came to be so wealthy.”

“Not really,” said Danny. “The last place I was at was bigger.”

“Pardon.”

“Also, you’re like the CEO of a dozen companies, and your grandfather is the Dairy King. Like the restaurant. You probably inherited a bunch, then went to school for business or something and made investments.”

“Ah, I see. I didn’t realize you were… so aware of the normal progression of such things.”

“What I’m really interested in is how you know me, seeing as I’m a ghost and you’re human. You said you’re my godfather. So… How did that happen? Did you know me when I was alive? Did you know my actual parents?”

“When you were alive?” asked Vlad with raised eyebrows. “My dear boy, did no one tell you? You are alive. You’re a half ghost, just like me.”

“People did tell me, I’m just not sure that I– Wait, you, too?”

“Indeed. You and I are the only ones to die in… that specific way.” He stopped walking and looked away from Danny. “Forgive me. It is difficult for me to speak of it, even now.” He shook himself and continued on, down the hall. “As for your parents, well… They are no longer with us, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” said Danny. “I guess that makes some sense, with this trial thing and all.” In the abstract, though, it was better than them being abusive or something. In the abstract. “Did I have any other, um, family? Other than you?”

“You have two sisters. One older, one younger. Rather fiery, both of them. But the younger has her own arrangements, and the elder is old enough, and human enough, that this process isn’t necessary for her.”

“Is the older one named Jazz?”

“You’ve met her already? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that she would try to get custody of you. She is very protective of you, but it is often at her own detriment.”

“What do you mean?” asked Danny, a little offended.

“She isn’t ready for the responsibility,” said Vlad. “Oh, I suspect she would happily and willingly take you on, and she is better than certain… other options, but she doesn’t have the life - or death - experience to do so without a great deal of personal sacrifice. Meanwhile, I am well established in both worlds. She need not sacrifice what remains of her own childhood. Ah, and here is your room.”

Vlad opened the door, showing Danny a room that bore a striking resemblance to his room in Jazz’s house. It was bigger, and it had a computer and a shelf of video games next to the shelf of rocket models, and the space theme wasn’t quite as pronounced or as detailed, but it was there.

Vlad probably did know him, then. And Danny hadn’t detected any lies. On the other hand, he probably was just better at lying, all things considered. A CEO would have to be.

He’d withhold judgment until he’d met the Dairy King. But for now… this didn’t seem too bad.

“If you would like, you can stay here and familiarize yourself with your lodgings, we can take a tour, or we can go ahead to my training room. I’ve made it large enough to maneuver comfortably in and accomplish some sparring, among other things. Perhaps we can explore your abilities, or… considering your prior comments… show you how to take your human form?”

Danny felt himself start to levitate slightly in excitement. “You can do that? Really?”

“I can at least give you some pointers. I’m the only one who knows how it feels to transform from human to ghost. So, can I assume that is your choice?”

“Yeah!” said Danny. “If that’s really something I can do, I want to know how to do it.” Also, this was a nice change from telling him nothing (Clockwork), lying to him (Jazz), or being the Observants (the Observants).

“Very well,” said Vlad, turning back into the hallway. “I keep my paranormal endeavors below ground. I entertain here quite frequently, and it wouldn’t do for random humans to come across some of the things I keep in my lab.”

Danny stilled. “Lab?” he asked.

“Yes, before I was a businessman, I was a man of science, and being as unique as we are, the only way to know anything about our own bodies and abilities is to discover it for ourselves.”

“Right,” said Danny, walking quickly to catch up, “that makes sense. But, um, your training room is in the lab?”

“They’re connected, for ease of measurement. The better to know exactly how strong our ectoblasts are, or how many wavelengths of light we are invisible to.”

Danny nodded. Again, that made sense. However…

“Is there a way to get there without going through the lab?”

“I don’t–” started Vlad, giving Danny a confused look. “No, I’m afraid not. In the past we might have phased through the walls, but the rules of this trial render them quite impenetrable. Why do you ask?”

“I just…” Danny shrugged. “Jazz said I died in a lab accident. And even without that…”

Vlad frowned. “I assure you, my lab has the best safety precautions money can buy and my ingenuity can produce. However, as I said, we do not have to begin with testing our powers. Could I perhaps interest you in a documentary on the greatest football team of all time?”

“I…” Danny really did want to learn how to transform. On the other hand… Maybe it was stupid, and maybe he’d been half joking about mad science labs the whole time he was with Jazz, but… “Yeah, we can watch a documentary.”

“Excellent. My theater is just this way. Do you like popcorn?”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic

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suugarbabe · 6 months

Text

[Chapter 3]

Word count: ~3.3k

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

You grasped at the object your arm was slung around, expecting the warmth and hardness of Mattheo’s chest. Instead you grasped onto the silk of a pillowcase. Your eyes slowly fluttered opened, your mind trying to organize your thoughts and figure out if last night really happened or not.

Laying your head on the pillow in your grasp, you were hit with the unmistakable scent of Mattheo. The mix of sandalwood and amber mixed with fire whiskey and smoke flooded your senses. You tried to remember the feeling of his arms wrapped around you as you drifted off into your first peaceful sleep in months, but all you could remember was the light ghosting of his fingertips on your skin.

You sat up in bed, taking in the room around you again. Beyond his scent on your pillow, there was no trace of Mattheo in your room whatsoever. Climbing down from the bed you walked over to your barren closet, choosing something simple for the day before you decided to explore the manor. Grabbing your tea from Gimball from the nightstand, you slid your feet into your slippers and headed towards the door. You’d have to ask Gimball for his tea recipe, it was perfect.

Stepping in to the hall you take notice of how much more elegant the hall looks with the sunlight peeking in. You stared at the double doors next to yours, wondering if Mattheo was inside, wondering what time he left you alone in your bed. Did he wait until you were just asleep? Did he stay there and hold you for hours before finally retreating to his own room, or did he leave in the morning just before you woke? Your hand hovered above the door knob, contemplating the risks and rewards of trying to enter Mattheo’s room.

“He’s not here,” Pansy’s voice cut through your internal thoughts, making you whip around and grab your mug with both hands. “Oh, erm, yeah, that’s fine. I was just, ehm, where is he, do you know?” Pansy narrowed her eyes, walking towards you with her arms crossed, “He and Enzo left pretty early this morning on…business.” You sipped your tea, responding with a short hum, “Mattheo said you would give me a tour of the manor today?”

Pansy nodded, turning towards the stairs, “Yes, and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, so do try and keep up.” She started quickly down the stairs, you hustling behind her. Pansy led you down the stair case and through a set of double doors, “This is the kitchen, I don’t really know why you’d need to come down here as Gimball will bring you anything and everything you need with just a simple call and ask.” You nodded, setting your mug in the sink as you passed by.

Passing through the same doors Pansy turned down a new hall, similarly looking to the one upstairs with all of the bedrooms, “Down this hall is the security room, if you’re ever looking for Blaise or Theo they’ll likely be holed up in here doing work. This door is Draco’s office, don’t go in there unless you want a fight,” Pansy eyed you over her shoulder, “which you might want, but just be careful. Remember he’s on the team for a reason, not just because he and Mattheo are family.”

Pansy stopped at a set of double doors at the end of the hall, “These doors-” You cut her off, finishing her sentence, “lead to Mattheo’s office. The man really loves french doors, doesn’t he?” Pansy shrugged her shoulders, “What can I say, the man loves a grand entrance.” You laughed, easily agreeing with the statement.

You were led further to the outside of the house, presented with a larger in ground pool the size of a tennis court. Beyond the pool Pansy showed you the vineyard, thanks to Theo’s family, and the large and expansive garden. She led you to the front entrance of the garden, telling you of all the different flowers and plants that were growing inside, “We basically have the garden enchanted like a greenhouse, allowing us access to essentially any ingredients we would need for any potion we would need. Would you believe me if I told you the one we make the most are healing concoctions.”

A light laugh escaped your lips, “Surprisingly yes, I do believe that.” You walked side by side back towards the manor, you gnawing at your lip deciding if you should ask the question that was beating at your brain. You couldn’t see it but Pansy was smirking, “Ask your question, I can tell you’re dying to.” You let out a huff, “Am I that easy to read? Mattheo certainly won’t like that.”

Pansy’s eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite read, “I’m sure he likes you just fine.” You opened your mouth to protest when she cut you off, “Question, Birdie, what was it?” You frowned slightly, “Everyone just going to call me Birdie now instead of my real name? You know what, whatever. Right, so this morning you said Mattheo and Enzo left on business.” Pansy nodded, confirming she was on track with you so far, “I was just wondering…what exactly is the business. Unless they’re doing club business early in the morning.”

The smirk on Pansy’s face was telling, but you weren’t exactly sure what it was telling you. “You’re a smart witch, I’m sure you’ve gathered that there’s more than just the club when it comes to business with these boys.” You nodded, following Pansy back into the manner and towards the foyer. “Grab my arm, Birdie.” You did as told, then were instantly transported to what looked like a muggle artillery room.

“Wha-Where are we?” Pansy simply smirked, walking towards the glass door in front of you, “Believe it or not were right below the foyer. Only way to get here is through apparition and only the six of us- well I guess seven now - have the ability to do so. Theo looks daft but he’s actually fantastic as protection spells.”

Reaching her hand as far as it would go, then dragging her finger all the way down the glass. As she did so, you noticed a series of different light charges shift within the door frame before hearing a clicking sound, signifying an unlocking. “This,” Pansy opened the door, signaling for you to follow her, “is your first glimpse into the business.”

You marveled at the room around you, never seeing muggle weapons in person. They were shinier than you expected, in an array of grays, silvers and blacks. You were surprised at all the different shapes and sizes they seemed to come in, confused further why a band of wizards would see a purpose in them. “Muggle weapons are the business? That doesn’t make any sense, Pans.”

The black haired girl simply shook her head, “Weapons are the way in to the bigger picture, Birdie.” You walked up to a wall fingers dancing over what looked like a long black gun with an attached barrel to the end, “Which is what?” Pansy walked up behind you, “Power. Mattheo is building an empire, love. Not just in the wizarding world, but the muggle one as well. If there’s ever another war, he doesn’t want to make the same mistakes that his father did.”

The last sentence gave you the little bit of detail to connect the dots that you needed to better understand Mattheo and his ways, his demeanor. You felt stupid for not making the connection earlier, but you blamed Mattheo and his charm for distracting you from thinking clearly. “Mattheo is Voldemort’s son,” it left your lips in almost a whisper. Pansy nodded, “I wouldn’t bring it up, though. He’s got quite a distaste for his father. But you can’t blame him. Not after how he grew up, everything he had to deal with.”

You turned to Pansy, “How does no one know that Voldemort had a son?” Pansy held out her arm, you took it without hesitation. In a whirl you were back in the foyer, following Pansy to the sitting room watching as she collapsed on one of the couches by the fireplace. You gave her an incredulous look. She huffed, sitting up straighter and rolling her eyes, “If you sit, Birdie, I’ll tell you, but not everything. That’s for Mattheo to do. If he wants to.”

You sat on the couch across from her, not being able to help but sink into the plush cushions and relaxing slightly. Pansy let out a long sigh before starting, “Mattheo hides his past very well, better than you even and you seem like almost an expert at it. Mattheo didn’t attend school with the rest of us, his mother choosing to homeschool him, teaching him what she thought was important and what he would need to be a real leader. Guess she was right about that part.”

“How are he and Draco related? I know that the Malfoy’s were loyal death eaters but I didn’t think they were related to the Dark Lord himself.” Pansy shook her head, “You’re right there, they’re not related through him. Their mother’s are sisters, Draco’s actually almost a year older than Mattheo but you couldn’t tell by how timid and scared he acts around him.” You both laughed at this, even in the few days you had been around the group you recognize everyone cowering away from Mattheo if his voice was raised even slightly.

A popping sound signaled the arrival of someone near the foyer. “Must be the boys,” Pansy stood from the sofa, you following quickly behind her. You gasped at the sight before you. Mattheo’s white dress shirt was ripped like someone has pressed him against a shredder, cuts and new bruising evident behind the tears. He had blood splattered across his cheek, though it did not seem to be of his own. His knuckles were dripping, from what you were sure was a mix of his own blood and whoever he had seemed to beat.

Enzo was leaning most of his weight on his slightly shorter friend, eyes fluttering between awareness and close to losing consciousness. His arm that was not slung over Mattheo’s shoulders was pressed against his side where he was bleeding…badly. The gash in his side did not seem to be from anything muggle or an object, but from magic as you could see the black rim of the edges of his skin. “What the fuck happened?” You voice was the first to break the silence beyond Enzo’s moaning.

“Pansy grab the others, and some healing potions,” Matteo barked the order out like he’d said it a hundred times, which at his calmness of this situation made you think he had. You quickly conjured a table and helped Mattheo place Enzo on it. You looked over Enzo completely, seeing a few more cuts on his legs, the gash on his stomach, going up further he had a few defensive wounds on his forearms and a couple of cuts on his face.

When your face was level with Enzo’s eyesight, he smiled slightly, “Well, hey there, Angel.” You ran your thumb along his cheek bone, “Hey, Enzie. I’m gonna fix you up, but it’s gonna hurt. Try not to move, and try not to be mad at me after, okay?” Enzo did his best to nod before his eyes fluttered closed again. You grabbed your wand from your pocket, knowing where you’d have to start first when Mattheo seized your wrist, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m trying to help now if you would just let…go of me,” Mattheo’s grip only tightened as you tried to pull away. “Do you even know what you’re doing, Princess? You don’t even know what happened or what he was hit with. Pansy’s getting the healing potions, I don’t need you fucking up my best defense.”

You scoffed at his skepticism, “Well by the discoloration around his wound I can tell you he was hit with dark magic. And those healing potions, I looked at them today when Pansy gave me my little grand tour, it’ll take your best defense a week to heal with those, while if you would just let me get to work he’ll be mostly healed by the morning. Now, if you excuse me,” you yanked your wrist again, harder this time. You know the only reason you were able to was because Mattheo let go, but you got straight to work anyway.

Placing your wand between your teeth briefly you used both hands to rip Enzo’s shirt open, fully exposing the depths of what you were dealing with. The open wound went diagonally from his right hip to almost the center of his abdomen. You waved your wand over the length of his body, mending all of the small cuts quickly. Mattheo watched as you worked, standing across from you in a worried stance, one hand over his mouth while his elbow rested on the arm over his chest.

Pansy and the others came barreling down the hall, several different healing potions in hand, “What does she think she’s doing?” Malfoy shouted, your previous impression still leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “Leave her, cousin, we’re going to see how truly valuable she is to us.” Mattheo’s instruction left everyone standing, watching as you worked.

You mumbled an incantation under your breath, beginning to pull the darkness from around the edges of Enzo’s wound. But the pain was too much for him, his eyes shooting open and back immediately arching off the table, “BLOODY FUCKING HELL!” Your frown deepened, “I know, Enz, I’m so sorry, but you’ve got to stay still.” He shook his head, “C-can’t…can’t do it, hurts t-to much, Angel.”

You looked at Mattheo, eyes pleading. He understood what you were thinking immediately, turning towards the others, eyebrows raised. You turned back towards Enzo, leaning close to his face, “The boys are gonna help, okay? They’re gonna hold you down. I need to get it out of you before you can heal properly, okay, Enz? It’s gonna hurt, but you gotta try and stay still. Just try, the boys will help.”

You made eye contact with Mattheo, nodding. He glanced over at the rest of the boys, who each grabbed hold of a limb on Enzo. “I’m so sorry, Enz,” you whispered before hovering your hands over the gash. “Just do it Angel, m’bout to pass out, I can feel it.” You nodded, circling your wand and mumbling the same incantation from before. Your twirled the tip of your wand, pulling up slowly as what looked like shimmering black liquid began to lift from Enzo’s wound.

“What the fuck is that…” Theo gasped as he watched as the string got thicker and longer. When the tail end of the black liquid flicked out you grabbed hold of it with your free hand, holding your wand high above your head to keep as much distance between Enzo and the liquid as you could. “Pansy, a vial, please,” you looked over at her. Pansy stood frozen, eyes stuck on the struggling presence in your hand. “PANSY!” Mattheo’s booming voice snapped her out of whatever trance she was in.

Pansy rushed to your side, empty vial in hand as you guided the contents of your wand and palm inside. As she clogged the top Theo tried to get someone to pay attention to him again, “Is no one going to tell me what that fucking thing was that she just pulled out of Enzo? Was that his fucking soul?”

Blaise rolled his eyes, “You’re a fucking moron, Nott, you know that?” You elbowed Blaise in the side, causing a low grain to emit from the man, “It was dark magic. It gets attached to you when you’re hit with certain spells. It makes it harder for you to heal and is extremely difficult to remove. But once you do you can usually heal the person like normal.”

You held your wand hand over Enzo’s abdomen again, mumbling another healing spell and watching as ribbons of white began connecting the opposite edges of his wound. “Do you have any gauze?” You looked up at Mattheo. He flipped his hand around, summoning a first aid kid and digging around until he found what you had asked for. You wrapped the gauze around Enzo’s middle, the rest of the boys helping lift him in order to wrap it all the way around and secure it properly.

When you were finished, you let out an exasperated sigh, “He’s gonna be out of it for the rest of the night, but he should be basically back to his old self by morning, maybe a little sore but nothing like if he’d only taken the potion. You could probably give him that as well, help with the pain.” You looked over at Blaise and Theo, “You can take him to his room, just dont push on his side. Have Gimball give him something to drink in an hour, I’d watch him for the next three just to make sure he doesn’t get any worse.”

The two boys nodded, hauling Enzo up under his shoulders and walking up the stairs. You shoved your wand back in your pocket with intentions of heading back toward the sitting room when you felt a strong grip on your arm. You turned to see Mattheo, expression unreadable. Before you could protest he was dragging you down the hall, “Mattheo, what the fuck? Let go!” Mattheo said nothing in response and he dragged you further down the hall until you were standing in front of his office doors.

He mumbled reverse protection spells before opening the doors and throwing you inside. You luckily had the wherewithal to catch yourself on his large desk before turning around to face him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You were practically screaming in his face yet he stood stoic. Except for his eyes. When you looked into his eyes they were darker than you’d ever seen them, like you were staring into an abyss and you were about to be sucked in. You wanted to challenge him, push him into showing you some emotion. You took a step closer, your chest nearly flush to his while you shoved a finger against one of his pecs, “Are you gonna answer me, boss?”

“Are you finished?” Mattheo peered down at you. You scowled at him, taking a step back and leaning against his desk, crossing your arms, “For now.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “I knew you were going to be difficult but I didn’t expect you to be a brat.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. He grabbed hold of your chin, fingers squeezing your face, “Just like that. You gonna tell me how you pulled that little stunt in the foyer just now? How you managed to pull that shite from Berkshire?”

You pushed his hand from your face, “My mother taught me. I never had to use it growing up. But after the war I got more practice.” Mattheo closed his eyes at the mention of his father’s previous doings. “He’s going to be fine, you know,” your voice was soft, assuming Mattheo was worried about Enzo. Mattheo shook his head, “I know,” a small smile appeared on his face, “I just can’t believe how much I underestimated how useful you would be to us.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What?” Mattheo opened his eyes, a low laugh emitting from his throat, “Oh, Princess.” He reached out, cupping your cheek, “I knew you were special that first time you walked into my office. I know Pansy told you what we do, what I’m working towards.” You nodded, still not understanding what he was getting at. He leaned in close, nose nearly touching yours, “Then you know it can get dangerous, hell today was a perfect example.”

“Mattheo I still don’t unders-” Mattheo pressed his thumb to your lips, “You’re mine now, Princess.” Your heart was thundering in your chest, it felt like he had a hold of it and was squeezing. You were sure he could feel your pulse beneath his fingertips as he leaned in closer, lips ghosting against your ear as he whispered, “And you’re never going to leave.”

#protego series #mafia!slytherin boys #mafia!mattheo riddle #Mattheo riddle x reader #Mattheo riddle x you

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

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Hi! So I'm not the same person that asked for the stubborn and sick reader thats afraid of the doc, but what about either a continuation, or a whole new piece where ghost HELPS the reader overcome their fear of doctors? (SFW please, whether he's nice about it or forceful is up to you! Just wanted some fluff!) 💜

I got you anon, this can be read as a stand alone or a part two to this drabble

warnings: fluff, anxiety, mention of doctors & medical terms, gn pronouns, not proofread

“Right, you can’t put it off any longer love”

“It’s not that bad” Your words come out through broken coughs

“It’s been over a week and your fever hasn’t broken, we need to see the doctor”

“I’m telling you I’m fine”

Simon sighs, his thumb rubbing small circles over the skin of your thigh.

“I understand you’re scared, but I’ll be there with you”

Your heavy eyes turn to him, sincerity seeps from his features, you believe him, you know that he’d never let anything bad happen to you but the anxiety sits like a weight in your stomach.

“It’s more than fear Si, it’s like all my worries just swarm as soon as I think about it, everyone gathers at once and combusts in my head, it’s just too much”

“I know” His hand moves to hold yours, your skin is damp from sweat, he can feel the heat of your skin in his own, “I feel like that too, anytime I think about you in danger, every time I think about my family, everything piles up until it just”

“Bursts”

He snickers, “Yeah, bursts”

You give him a weak smile, closing your eyes for a moment before slowly nodding, “Okay”

“Okay?”

“We can go, but promise me we’ll leave if it’s too much”

“Of course my love”

He holds your hand as you get out of the bed, your legs a little wobbly from the weakness in your muscles. You change in to a pair of sweatpants as Simon makes a quick tea, throwing it in a thermos for you as you both make your way to the car.

You’re staring out the window, watching the buildings breeze bye, a swarming feeling settling in your lower stomach as you bounce your knee nervously. Simons hand moves to rest on top of your hyper leg, pulling you from your thoughts.

“It’ll be quick, they’ll give you some medicine and we’ll go home, I’ll be there the whole time”

You nod, your lower lip between your teeth. You drive for a few more minutes before he parks the car near the entrance of the office, turning off the engine.

“You ready?”

You take a deep breath, nodding to him as you exit the car, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back, the contact helping ease some of your anxiety as you enter.

Simon checks you in and the two of you sit down, your eyes shifting around the room. Your skin starts to sweat as the abundance of objects enter your view, every wall is covered in posters or pamphlets, there’s half dead plants littering the shelves beside small models of brains and lungs.

Your breath picks up and you pick at the skin around your nails, Simon notices, his large hands moving to envelop yours, his thumb soothing over your skin, trying to calm you down.

“Did you finish your book?”

“You’re trying to distract me”

“Yep, so did you?”

“No, I have a few chapters left”

“Is it good?”

You turn to him, “Yes”

“What’s your favourite part so far?”

“You don’t need to keep me busy like a child”

“Just want to take your mind of your worries”

You give him a meek smile, “Thank you” you say before beginning to explain some plot line of your most recent read, Simon watching you talk, asking a few questions and listening when you go on a tangent.

A few minutes pass and the doctor walks out calling your name, you feel your heart drop, Simon squeezes your hands in reassurance as you two stand, your fingers cling to him as you walk down the small hallway to the office and sit down, the smell of alcohol invading your senses.

Simon explains your symptoms to the doctor, your fever and chills, the fatigue and lack of appetite, you sit there listening, your fingers tracing over his tattoos. You flinch a little as the doctor moves to examine your throat, your skin hot and sweaty as his hands prod at your neck, your nails digging into Simons arm.

You listen as the doctor says that you just have a pretty bad cold, probably the flu and that he’d prescribe some antibiotics for you. Simon thanks the man before taking nudging you out of the room, his hand finding it’s way to your back as you leave. You step out and feel like you can finally breath, the cool air outside helping to calm the heat of your skin.

“You did well love, I’m proud of you” His hand roaming along your back

You huff a small laugh, your palms digging into your eyes as you make your way back to the car. You drive back to your flat, Simon stopping to pick up your prescription and some take out for the two of you before you make your way inside.

You strip from your clothes, replacing them with looser items as they began to feel a little claustrophobic, Simon makes you another tea and sets out a glass of water beside your medicine. You swallow the pill and gulp back some water, his eyes watching you to make sure you finished.

“Right, as a reward for going I got your favourite”

He pulls out a small brown bag, opening it and placing a few boxes of chinese food on the counter as you smile,

“Did you get”

“Chicken dumpings? of course”

Your smile widens, he remembered your order. The two of you sit down on the couch to eat your dinner, Simon turning the tv on to the rugby game, cursing when the opposing team scored. He was so animated when he watched sports, such a different persona from his usual, it made you giggle.

“Nice to see you happy love” His hand cupping your jaw, you move your body to rest on him, your chin finding it’s place on his shoulder as his arm snakes around you.

You fall asleep after a few minutes, the stress of the day wearing you out, Simon slowly shifts from under you, moving the plates to the small table ahead before his arms lift your body, carrying you to the bed.

He sets you down gently, making sure the blanket covers you but wouldn’t make you too hot during your sleep as his lips press a kiss to your forehead, you mumble a small thank you to him before falling back asleep.

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #cod mw x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #mw2022 #simon ghost riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost fluff #cod mwii #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x reader #reqs💌

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hyperfixatedfandomer · 1 year

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You know what let share the rising blood pressure between all the Sully siblings: Neteyam thought he could relax a bit when they got to the Metkayina village the demon is gone(for now) and Spider is safe….what he and the others weren’t expecting was Spider to be considered beautiful and unique by the Meykayina and the Wind Traders. Combine his looks with his personality and skills he’s constantly getting courting gifts. Now they all have to beat his suitors off with sticks(little Tuk has yet to be impressed by any of them hissing at each one)

The fact that, realistically it would kinda make sense is what does it for me😭

That handsome boy from the sky (Spider caught with Neteyam AU)

Whatever reaction the Sullys were expecting from Metkayina to Spider — it wasn’t this.

When he and Netyam appeared at the shore a couple weeks ago, tired and with every nerve in their body aching, the leader and his wife were the first ones to get to the beach where the two were catching their breath. Neteyam noticed the gathering crowd and stood protectively in front of the blonde, his hands in the air, uttering breathlessly that he is the eldest son of Turuk Makto and the human with him is his older brother.

The news that Jake actually resided in the village they escaped to was a huge relief, but then Ronal — local Tsahik, came forward and judged the duo. She circled Neteyam and although he looked like a pure blood Na’vi, there was still slight discontent in her eyes.

However, it was different with Spider.

The Metkayina never saw a human closely before, so the kid was their first proper introduction to his kind.

Ronal circled him slowly and her eyes widened as she took in his features. This boy was nothing like the forest Na’vi they had taken in. His frame was wider and a lot more muscular.

“Broad shoulders..” She commented, brushing a seaweed off Spider’s collarbone. “Strong back…” she poked his shoulder blades. “Sturdy legs…” she bent down to feel the scratches on the side of his thigh before coming to a stop in front of him again.

“Take a breath.” She ordered and spider obliged, taking in the filtered air and she nodded, watching his torso expand. “Powerful lungs.” The woman ended, before her gaze softened and she turned to her husband, as well as the people standing behind him.

“Are they to your liking?” Tonowari asked, hoping to Eywa that Ronal says yes.

“The eldest half-blood is as hopeless as the rest of Toruk’s children were. The demon however…” She turned to look back at Spider. “Is vigorous. His body is tough and stocky, much like ours. He can hold his own in our element. He can survive.” She concluded, and the Na’vi around the two boys began swarming curiously.

Spider possessed no tail or queue, but as Ronal previously mentioned, he had an athletic body similar to the Metkayina and if he somehow swam all this distance from the Sea Dragon ship himself, without needing to be pulled by his friend, it could only mean that he was well-trained enough to hold his own in the water.

Neteyam was so happy then, happy that his brother had been accepted this easily and that his unique body-shape actually played into it.

But he wasn’t happy anymore, and neither was the rest of the family, as the blonde unexpectedly turned into the hottest item on the market. Half of the boys in the village glared in jealousy as he single-handedly stole away the attention of local girls and even some young men. It didn’t help that Spider was so hellbent on proving himself to the people of Awa'atlu that he’d spend days on end doing chores and helping around the settlement with a polite smile on his face. He’d weave baskets as the elderly told him of their folklore and legends, bring food to the scouts on the outskirts of the reefs and the forest behind their village, help carry heavy items akin to an ant picking up an object ten times their weight and all of that without a single complaint. Spider was used to doing work like this back at the high camp so it was nothing new to him, but what he didn’t expect was for the na’vi to genuinely thank him, touched at his efforts and even urging him to take breaks whenever possible.

And then…the flirting had started. The youth around Awa'atlu really took to him, girls swooning over the boy when he’d sit down by the water to help carve stakes which the warriors would put as defence around the territory of their home. Spider was reluctant to admit it, but being seen as attractive felt nice, so nice in fact he’d blush when one of the teenagers called out to him coquettishly from the other side of the main pod as he attended to the chore.

“Heya Spider~” Fwasìm, also known as one of the prettiest girls in the village (aside from Tsireya of course) chirped at him with a playful tone to her voice. “Aren’t you tired from sharping wood all day?”

The kid didn’t know to answer, so he settled for a tiny chuckle and a smile. “Takes more than a couple logs to tire me out~” he answered before going back to work. Turns out it was more than enough to make her giggle flusteredly as she turned to her friends, proud of herself for the bravery of interacting with the mysterious boy from the sky.

And then the gift era had begun.

“Who the hell keeps sending these?” Jake asked frustratedly as he looked at all the intricately made necklaces, bracelets, anklets, earrings and dread-beads that kept piling on in Spider’s corner of the pod.

“Everyone, dad. All the kids are crushing on him.” Said Neteyam with a serious expression. “I saw some guy give him a new bow yesterday and he blushed and stuttered like crazy, barely let Spider take the thing.”

Jake nodded, his brows furrowing. Spider never received so much attention before, so as his father, he had to ensure that none of those kids go too far with their advances. He needed to teach the blonde how to establish boundaries if needed as well as show the local teens that if any of them broke his heart they’ll have Jake to deal with.

“This is stupid.” Kiri mumbled, clearly irritated. Spider was already busy most of the time, earning his place in the village but with with the fawning suitors she didn’t get to spent almost any time with him in the past several days. She loved him only as a brother of course, but they have always been inseparable and having to share the human with others agitated her. She was way too used to having Spider all to herself. “They only like him because he is something new. When the novelty’ll wear off they will break his heart.” She grumbled.

“Awww, jealous much?” Lo’ak came in right after his sister, teasing her before turning to Jake. “Y’all honestly need to calm down. Our bro is finally getting the appreciation he deserves! Let him have it!” He smiled.

“No! They’re all ugly.” Pouted Tuk, entering the pod with a basket, Neytiri right behind her.

“He is too naive, someone could use it to their advantage.” The woman added, a hint of concern in her brow.

Lo’ak rolled his eyes. “Wow, just say you’re salty that he is finally getting attention, jeez, he’s not a toddler, he can take care of himself.”

“Of course, but it’s his first time being liked by someone romantically.” Jake stood up. “We need to be there for him in case anything goes sideways.”

Neteyam nodded, heading out of the marui. “I’ll check up on him, he should be back in the village by now.”

Oh Eywa, how are they gonna get through this?

Author’s notes: this was so, SO much fun to write! Spider’s actor is honestly soooo cute I was only happy at the opportunity to write people swooning over him 🥹❤️

Anyway, if y’all got any prompts or questions — feel free to drop them in the ask box!✨

#avatar spider #avatar 2 #avatar #spider socorro #avatar headcanons #avatar way of water #miles spider soccoro #spider avatar #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #avatar neteyam #neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar jake #avatar kiri #avatar tuk #avatar neytiri #atwow spider

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