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marinawolf · 4 months

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A Super and a Luthor? (Supercorp) by marinawolf

James likes Lena but his efforts are constantly ignored, because while he’s focused on Lena, Lena seems to be a little too infatuated with a certain blonde superhero. (Warning: James Olsen but it’s fun, I promise).

(Note: was struck with this idea and decided to roll with it. Supercorp from the POV of a jealous James Olsen.)

Seated at his desk, James Olsen couldn't help but steal glances across the bustling office towards Lena's glass-walled haven.

Man, she is fucking gorgeous. Her green eyes were focused on the screen in front of her, and a frown graced her flawless face. James let his eyes wander. The dress she wore left little to the imagination, accentuating her curves and showing only the slightest but most alluring hint of cleavage.

James couldn’t help but think that Lena was just a little intimidating, but despite the formidable exterior, he was sure that there was a softer side to Lena, a vulnerability reserved for the right person. And he was determined to be that person. She was technically his boss, yes, but that wouldn’t mean anything if they were to enter into a relationship. James knew that he was accomplished and well respected in his own right. Hell, he even had a temporary taste of the power Lena now held when he had run Catco before Lena took over. He knew he could be someone she viewed as an equal. In his mind, they were destined to be a power couple.

They shared countless moments together – at the office, during Kara's game nights at her apartment, and at the DEO, where they lent their aid to Kara's Supergirl duties. James couldn't escape the feeling that they had been skirting around something for far too long. Each smile Lena cast his way, every high-five exchanged during game nights, or every discussion about the latest threats faced together at the DEO stirred a desire within him, a longing to bridge the gap between friendship and something more.

James couldn't help but wonder if Lena was impressed by his daring feats as Guardian. The DEO and Kara’s efforts to shut down his Guardian alter ego left him angry and frustrated, but he held onto the belief that Lena had at least witnessed a glimpse of his courage.

James decided it was time to take action. Standing up with a practiced nonchalance, he smoothed his shirt and made his way to Lena's office. His knock was a mere formality before he entered.

Lena's gaze briefly lifted from her work. "James," she greeted, her focus quickly returning to the computer. "What can I do for you?"

Stunned by her nonchalance, James hesitated before suggesting, "Would you like to grab some lunch? You've been working all day. I know a great place just a few blocks away." He offered a warm smile, aiming to break the professional facade.

Lena, finally meeting his gaze, sighed slightly. "I'm waiting on a conference call. Maybe another time?"

Her response, accompanied by a swift return to work, left James standing there, more deflated than rejected.

Disappointment washed over him as he quietly retreated from Lena's office, puzzled by her apparent indifference. The unanswered question echoed in his mind: Was she truly disinterested, or was this a strategic guise to conceal hidden feelings? Seething with a mix of frustration and confusion, James sat down at his desk and resumed his watch over Lena.

James watched with surprise and fascination as Kara nonchalantly breezed into Lena's office without even knocking, cups of coffee and a takeout bag in hand. Anticipating Lena's usual inclination for privacy and the demands of her busy schedule, he expected a certain level of disapproval and a quick dismissal. However, what unfolded before him was surprising.

As Kara entered, Lena's eyes immediately lifted from her work, and to James's sheer amazement, she graced Kara with the most radiant smile he had ever witnessed. It was as if for Lena, the entirety of the outside world seemed to dissolve into insignificance, leaving only Kara as the singular focal point of her attention. The change in Lena's countenance was noticeable, as if everything else faded away in comparison to the presence of her friend. Kara settled gracefully into a chair, presenting Lena with a cup of coffee that was accepted appreciatively. As Kara unpacked the takeout, James watched as Lena relaxed into the moment, dropping her tough exterior and settling into a lunch hour that that Lena had, surprisingly, told him she was too busy to indulge in.

The disparity struck him with a perplexing realization. Why had Lena lied to him?

___

Later, in the conference room, James snagged the seat next to Lena’s, hoping to catch her attention during what he anticipated would be a very boring presentation about the yearly projections for the company.

James turned to Lena, expecting her to be focused on the presentation, but to his surprise, Lena's eyes were not fixed on the slides but rather on Kara, who sat opposite her, absentmindedly doodling on a pad. A subtle, almost imperceptible hunger seemed to flicker in Lena's eyes as she watched the blonde. He recognised that kind of look. He was sure that he looked at Lena the same way.

Wait. No. It couldn’t be- could it? Could Lena be into Kara?

Definitely not, he reassured himself. It seemed implausible, even stranger than a Super and a Luthor being friends. The idea of a Super and a Luthor sharing something more felt far-fetched, and he reassured himself that both Lena and Kara were unequivocally straight. Reminding himself of Kara's past crush on him, James dismissed the possibility of a romantic connection between the two women But then Kara’s gaze flicked to Lena’s and they shared a soft smile, and strangely enough, it felt like James was intruding on something private.

Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure anymore. He was determined to find out, and he was determined to claim Lena as his own. After all, James and Lena would make sense as a couple.

—

Weeks later, James watched Lena’s anguish as Kara was wheeled in to the DEO on a stretcher, having been exposed to nearly lethal amounts of Kryptonite. There was an intensity in Lena's reaction that struck him – it was as if she shared Kara's pain, as if any harm to Kara was a direct blow to her. Yet, James rationalized Lena's anguish as a product of guilt – after all, the culprit was none other than her own brother, Lex Luthor.

They gathered around Kara's bedside as she lay beneath the sun lamps, and James could see tears streaming down Lena's face. In a gesture of comfort, he put an arm around her, pulling her into him. Just as his arm tightened around Lena’s shoulders, Kara's eyes fluttered open, immediately seeking out Lena in the room. Kara whispered Lena's name, and in a visible wave of relief, Lena rushed to Kara, embracing her in a tight hug. Witnessing Kara reciprocate the embrace, even in her weakened state, stirred an unexpected twinge of jealousy in James.

—-

When Lex resurfaced, it was with the distressing news that he had abducted Lena, prompting James to rush to the DEO with an urgent determination to save her. He wanted to be her hero. He immediately sought out Alex to convince her to let him use his guardian suit, but found Alex and Kara locked in a tense argument.

“You can’t go there alone, Kara. You know it’s a trap. You know it’s you he wants to hurt. And he’ll use this to get you.”

"I don’t care. I won't be able to live if anything happens to Lena, Alex," Kara declared with desperation. She left before Alex could protest further.

Time passed, and James paced the DEO uselessly, resenting the fact that he wasn’t allowed to go out there. Shouldn’t he be given a chance to be the hero too?

Finally, Kara returned, her body showing signs wounds inflicted by Kryptonite weapons. But all James could focus on was the unconscious form of Lena in her arms.

James could barely spend time near Lena, as Kara steadfastly refused to leave Lena's bedside. Despite her own injuries, Kara sat there, refusing to move. He stood silently, and he knew that Kara had forgotten that he was even there- because he could have sworn that he heard her whisper “I love you” to Lena.

His silent watch continued as Lena eventually woke up, reaching for Kara's hands with an immediacy that spoke volumes. James, attempting to break the charged atmosphere, cleared his throat and approached Lena with a smile, hoping to place himself in her orbit.

"I was so worried, Lena," he expressed, but despite his genuine concern, he found himself unable to divert Lena's gaze from Kara. He felt like an outsider, looking in on something he so desperately wished was his.

—-

When James entered the bullpen after hours, in a last ditch effort to ask Lena out once more, he almost wasn’t surprised that Kara was already in Lena’s office. What did surprise him though, was the fact that Kara and Lena stood across the room from each other, glaring at each other. Unnoticed by the two women, he halted his approaching footsteps and silently observed.

Lena's eyes held a challenging glint as she stared at Kara, and Kara, in turn, met her gaze with equal intensity. James wondered if a heated argument had erupted, if the longstanding enmity between their families had finally overshadowed their friendship. Perhaps, he thought, it might be for the best if they parted ways.

He saw Kara walk towards Lena and prepared for the finality of the moment, already imagining being the one to offer Lena a shoulder to cry on.

But his heart shattered into fragments when instead of arguing, Kara pressed her lips against Lena's, her arms wrapping around Lena's waist. And his last remnants of hope crumbled away as Lena willingly melted into the kiss, fingers tangling in Kara's hair, kissing Kara back as if Kara held her breath captive. Their desperate kiss seemed to carry the weight of a lifetime of longing, as if they had been starved for this moment.

The intensity of their kiss left James feeling like an unintentional voyeur, prompting him to avert his gaze, unable to watch any longer. The realization of his own folly weighed heavily on him – he was a fool holding on to something that was never meant to be.

So that was it, then. A Super and a Luthor. Against all odds.

James realised that he never stood a chance.

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #kara x lena #kara zor el #kara danvers x lena luthor #fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supercorp fic #lena x kara #lena and kara #supergirl cw #james olsen #kara zor el x lena luthor

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shadow4-1 · 7 months

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No Boundaries - Task Force 141 Headcanons/Imagines (SFW)

Warring and fighting and bleeding all over each other is the quickest way to break down boundaries.

Here's a few headcanons on how each of the 141 boys respect/disregard your personal space and why.

Captain Price:

- He's the most respectful, and he really tries to be. It comes with the territory of being your superior, after all.

- Unlike some of the boys, he's very unafraid to touch you. You're nervous? Hand on your lower back. You're under fire? He pushes you back and behind him. You're hurt? He's immediately ripping through whatever article of your clothing he has to.

- Probably the most jarring/boundary pushing thing he'd do to you (if you're not dating), is making you sit on the edge of his desk while he talks to you. If the two of you aren't super close yet, it feels a bit strange. But the more you get to know him you realize he makes you do it so he can take full physical stock of you. Whether or not that's a good thing, you have no clue.

- When he knocks on your door he'll wait outside for as long as he needs to. He'd like for you to respond to him if you're in the middle of something (or someone) but even if you don't, he'll patiently wait. After about five minutes with no response he'll get antsy. After ten minutes he'll actually enter your room without permission. He'll be vocal about it though. "Sorry, love! Don't mean t' barge n' like this but-"

Lieutenant Ghost:

- Depending on his mood he can be pretty courteous or kind of a complete dickhead. He pulls rank whenever he has to, or feels like he should.

- Very afraid to touch you but has no qualms in eye fucking you for any reason under the sun. If he sees anything wrong with your uniform he'll call you out in front of everyone but prefers to do it alone so he has a piss poor excuse to fix it for you. Despite his fear of touch, he's touch starved. Whether or not you get uncomfortable with him touching your kit depends on the moment.

- The most boundary pushing thing he'd do is stalk you. Granted, that's pretty boundary pushing, but he's never obtrusive with it. It's more of a quiet vigilance, making sure you get to your quarters without interference, making sure no one tries to walk in on the showers with you in them, etc. He's looking out for you, but to what extent, you're not sure.

- Because he's so vigilant he wouldn't have much of a reason to knock on your door. But if he had to, he's the kind of guy to knock once, wait a few beats, and then enter if he can. He has no shame in twisting the door handle, making it hard for you to unlock it in the first place. If he needs to talk to you he's not interested in being blocked off for whatever reason.

Sergeant MacTavish:

- This man doesn't give a fuck about propriety. If he wants to touch you, he fucking will, and he doesn't care if he comes across as disrespectful.

- Completely unafraid to touch you. If you're available and he has any reason to touch you he'll take his chance. He's the most touch starved and doesn't care how desperate he comes across, especially when it comes to you.

- The most boundary pushing thing he'd do is always magically showing up where you are/where you need to go. You guess that, much like Ghost, he's probably stalking you in a somewhat innocent way. Sometimes he unnerves you with how often he gets in your way, but for the most part it's a harmless behavior that strokes your ego.

- Depending on how he feels he may or may not knock on your door. If he's in a good mood he'll knock and wait and hum until you open up, then he'll push you aside and enter your room like it's his own. If he's in a bad mood he'll actually just force the door open. He doesn't care about the damage, he doesn't care about you scolding him, he needs you for whatever reason and he can't wait.

Sergeant Garrick:

- He's very respectful and seems to pride himself in that fact.

- Although, his respectfulness seems to stem from a slight nervousness. He's always a tad jumpy when he has to touch you. It might be because he only ever has to touch you in dire circumstances (ie. injuries, sickness, weakness, etc.). If the circumstances aren't exigent he's nervous at first but soon it melts away into a measured confidence. He's not touch starved, per se, but he's certainly a little inexperienced.

- The most boundary pushing thing he'd do is let you sit in his lap. Keep in mind, this would only ever occur after at least a year of constant companionship and trust. It's not a sexual thing either, and none of the rest of the boys even comment on it. It's always out of necessity. No more chairs? In his lap you go. Your legs are tired? Lap time. No more room on the couch for gaming time? Hop on! He's your new, assigned seat.

- He'll always knock on your door. If you answer, he'll smile and try to keep whatever he needs short and sweet. If you don't answer, he'll assume you're not there or sleeping or doing something he doesn't want to intrude on. He'll try again later, but he won't push. Now, if it's very important and he's nervous, he'll call for backup. He knows Soap or Ghost can/will open your door and get to you so he doesn't have to cross that line himself.

#mw2 #cod mwii #cod imagines #captain price #ghost headcanons #john soap mactavish #kyle garrick #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #captain john price #john price #simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish

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priestvox · 4 months

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just curious about what your personal interpretation of the alastor charlie dad thing is. do you think he's being 100% sincere and it just comes up quickly cause of the small amount of episodes or are you in the it's a scam to make lucifer super angry camp?

tl;dr - I think he has ulterior motives and pissing off Lucifer is an added just a bonus.

I feel like Alastor has some growing fondness for the gang at the hotel, but he wouldn’t go out of his way for them - and I’m not sure he even would for people he considers his friends.

The show seems to imply he’s put some distance between himself and everyone.

Angel: He’s been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery.

We rarely see him attending group activities, even though he’s usually around. He doesn’t seem to eat with the rest of the gang - we see him having a drink on the balcony of the hotel before Sir Pentious attacks - then later, eating alone in his room when Vaggie comes to ask him to take care of the egg boys. (It’s an interesting contrast to Angel, who’s almost always lounging around on the couch on his phone.)

Even the night before the Extermination when everyone is spending time together, he’s hanging back with Niffty and says these two lines:

Alastor: It’s been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection.

Alastor: An enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed.

To me, that implies he doesn’t consider himself part of the collective - but he does like them, to some degree. And we see he’s capable of genuinely liking and caring for people, like Mimsy, if we take the relationship at face value.

But even Mimsy seems to think “friends” isn’t quite the right word for their relationship. She knows she can count on him to protect her and that he likes her company and admires her skill but the way she talks about Alastor seems to imply she sees him as somewhat self-involved:

Mimsy: Friends? Well, that’s your word not mine but I think it fits.

Mimsy: You don’t actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya? Come on. I know you. You heartless son of a bitch.

And when she thanks him for getting rid of the loan sharks, there’s a lot of feed his ego and implying he’s big and strong and powerful and she’s weak and needs him: “what a fantastic show”, “thanks for helping little ol’ me”, “but you love taking care of me”. And that kind of relationship probably feels safe for someone like Alastor, who needs to feel in control.

His relationship with Rosie also seems to have some level of being transactional. She immediately tells him about a deal he could make and says he’s never done her wrong, implying they’ve worked together before to her benefit.

Rosie: Yo Alastor I got a primo connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickings for a deal to be made, my friend.

Rosie: And old Alastor has never done me wrong before.

He seems to even trust her enough to be upfront about his motives about Charlie with her (but that could be misdirection), saying she’s: “filled with potential that [he] can guide” after directly singing about how she’s powerful like her father.

As for Charlie, I think it’s hard for most people to not eventually come around to her in spite of her flaws, and I don’t think Alastor would be an exception.

But I think at the end of the day, Charlie is a means to an end and Alastor values that end more than he values his current relationship with her.

She’s the princess of hell, with all the power that comes with that. And when singing with Rosie, he mentions “like her daddy [Charlie] is very powerful” and “filled with potential that [he] can guide”.

And Vox himself worries about Alastor’s power if he strikes a deal with Charlie - which is why he sends Sir Pentious to the hotel to try and prevent it:

Vox: We have a problem. Alastor is getting close to little princess Morningstar. So our main concern now is ensuring that no deal is ever struck between Lucifer’s brat and that smiling freak.

Therefore, because Alastor seems to hold everyone at arm’s length, have transactional friendships, and ulterior motives with Charlie, I don’t think he’s being 100% sincere in Best Dad In Hell.

But I also don’t think he was necessarily lying. He is stepping into the role of the dad she desires because it benefits him. All she seems to want from her dad is someone who believes in her and will support her. And he is caring for her in that way if not a traditional sense.

His wording is letting Charlie (and the audience) draw their own conclusions from his actions.

And he never says how he feels about the idea of the hotel itself - he just says “Charlie has a unique vision” and that they’re “all very proud of her”. And we’ve seen he does seem to be proud of her and find her capable, whatever his motives - (to Rosie: “Surprised? Why I knew she could do it all along” “she’s filled with potential).

I don’t think Alastor has had a reason to grow attached to Charlie beyond passive fondness (“enjoyable collective to be around”).

But I think Hell's Greatest Dad is a turning point in Alastor and Charlie’s relationship for Charlie because she starts to see Alastor as a contrast to her father and recognizes the extent of how much he’s done. I think it’s also one of the main catalysts in why she was willing to make a deal with him. He’s shady af but he’s the devil you know.

As for why he does what he does with Lucifer, Lucifer threatens the role he’s established for himself in Charlie’s life (mentor, wish granter). And I think that's why he makes an effort to insert himself between them at every opportunity (we’ll give the tour TOGETHER) - and part of the reason he’s so annoyed by Husk interrupting. Because so long as he's antagonizing Lucifer, he can't insert himself back into his daughter's life.

And it's obviously really hard to tell from Alastor's expression how he feels during More Than Anything but to me the look was similar to the one he was wearing while the Egg Boys were annoying him before his eye twitches around them (similar to what he does with Lucifer while she's hugging Charlie).

wow that was a novel sorry lmao

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio #lucifer #alastor #charlie #meta #nunalastor asks

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wandasfifthwife · 3 months

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(4) bruised ego ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex ice skater reader

tw: lots of discussion on dealing with an verbally/physically abusive mother, hurt/comfort, misunderstanding trope, slight argument, Wanda is kind of petty (but she doesn’t fully understand), angst with a happy ending, love confessions, super fluffy ending, there’s kissing at the end

a/n: we already know the drill, it’s not proofread babes. this hurt my soul to write, but the ending is so worth it.

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

We have about 6,000 thoughts daily, and a majority of them are the same idea just repeated. Studies show that another majority of those thoughts are negative.

There were days when it felt like the stats were wrong because some days you feel like every thought is negative. The reason for that being your mother. She wasn’t with you physically, but her words still stuck.

If you were in bed too long, you could hear her telling you to get up. If you ate something with too many carbs, you could hear her telling you to put it away. If you spoke back to someone, you could hear her screaming. Some days you think you can still feel the burn of her hand on your cheek.

The triggers for these days are unknown. You do your best to block it out and seem positive as to not bother anyone, but you believe what she’s done is so ingrained in you it’s like your own thoughts.

Your girlfriend has been wonderful. A listener, provider, friend. She’s the first thing that’s felt like home in a long time. So it’s no surprise that you felt like you would scare her away. They made themselves known one weekend when wanda was out of town visiting family. Being back in your apartment with barely any stimulation was like leaving an open seat for the devil to arrive.

It started out simple. Just about yourself and how down you can be. It was somewhat positive as you had tried and successfully held off a few of them. You had to remind yourself of how grateful you should be, of how you’ve got a brother who cares, and a lovely girlfriend.

It started twisting out of control when it went past a day. One popping out of nowhere saying how down you are. It then did the worst by bringing Wanda into it. Why would she want to stay with someone who requires so much work? The emotional load on you felt treacherous; One you cannot handle most days, so how could Wanda?

It’s been two days since she’s been gone and since your triggered spiral. Wanda had called you when you were eating dinner. You hesitated, hand twitching from where it lay on your lap. You could text her to call you back later. It might be better to not drag her into it so soon. You can deal with your own thoughts yourself.

The two days turned into four, and the one missed call turned into six.

Your mind felt heavy. No matter where you went you could feel tears building in your eyes. Why weren’t you good enough for your mother. Why have you failed at a social life. Why did Wanda care for someone like you when she could have another who has their life together.

It was disgusting to talk about yourself like that, but how are you supposed to know after the childhood you had? Any compliment given to you felt like a non-stick band-aid. It’s purpose to cover a wound, but it falls off. It all felt like lies.

After five days your phone went silent. It still lit up, a text from Wanda asking if you were okay. To not worry her, you told her you were fine, just tired.

On Wanda’s end she was confused, concerned, and hurt. Her calls went unanswered and her tests went unread unless they were serious. Her last choice was to give you space and let you come to her.

It was mistake on both ends. A tiny crack changing into a chasm. Silence became common, but extremely uncomfortable between the two of you. No texts, no calls, radio silence.

When Wanda had come back, she had a sliver of hope you’d show up to practice and explain all of what was going on. When you realized practice was tomorrow, you had hope that Wanda would be ecstatic to see you and explain how she does need you.

Neither happened.

You were full of anxiety walking into the building, ears ringing. Tyler had been looking over at you often, but he’s been with you longer and understands. Wanda didn’t understand, watching from afar as you don’t think to come find her like before. It was like two separate people, you before she left and when she came back. She called everyone over and began practice as usual.

You felt an ache start in your chest, one pure as opposed to the others. It begged for you to seek comfort, for her to tell you it was all alright. You were fearful though, scared if you came to her she would react like your mother. The second practice was over you were almost rushing out, heart beating like it was going to fall out. Wanda had skated to the exit, previous emotions highlighted after what just happened.

“You need to talk to her, I haven’t seen you like this in—“

“I really don’t want to talk about this Tyler. I don’t want to hear another thing that I’m messing up alright?”

He nodded and swallows, looking out the window. Another mistake your mother would have represented you for. What kind of aunt talks to their nephew like that?

You drop him off and sit alone in your car for a minute. Wanda’s house was closer. And oh how every part of you aches for her to hold you near. So you give in and type her address in on your phone.

Your chest feels like it’s squeezing as you walk up the stairs to her apartment. With her door in front of you, you knock. Chest filled with hope that she talk with you, let alone be home.

“Oh,” she opens the door and crosses her arms, “why’re you here?“

“Wanted to see you.”

“And why now instead of three days ago? What’s up with this new avoidant attitude?”

Your voice gets caught in your voice, “nothing. Can I just come in, please?”

“It’s not nothing,” she huffs, “why is it so difficult for you to tell me? Busy at work?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I would have understood if you would have communicated that? Leaving someone in the darkShe steps back so she can place her hand on the door. You feel your eyes water as she begins to close the door.

“I need some time,” is the last thing she says before the door is shut in your face.

Your tears feel like they’re drying up as hurt and shock fills up every bone in your body. It was the last thing you had hoped to happen. You regretted driving here, now you have to deal with blurry highways. You wipe at your face with your sleeve and climb back into your car. You really surprise yourself at how you keep your composure until you’re back in your own apartment complex.

A cry comes from deep within you, one different from the previous days. This one hurt.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

Your days felt empty. It was hard most days to get out of bed and concentrate. You were thankful work wasn’t miserable, it ran its usual course for a typical 9-5 job.

Your brother tried his best, but gave you space unless you intentionally seemed him out. He was deeply saddened when you had came to him the night after you had fought with Wanda. His house was opened to you that night. It usually is, but it was especially after that day.

You continued to take Tyler to practice. Each trip there felt like you were chipping away at your heart. Wanda wouldn’t look at you and it felt worse than her glaring at you. Now you regret not answering her first call and being truthful.

Your thoughts shifted. Once being self destructive and now they’re empty. You would avoid looking in Wanda’s direction and now she’s what your eyes are looking for when you walk in the arena.

You were sat on the bleachers, watching Tyler play and occasionally looking over to Wanda. You tried to have hope that she would look over to you, acknowledge that you were there. It was another day of mourning what would never happen.

Your chest heaves and you’re quick to clamber down the steps. A few steps is all it took to carry yourself outside. Nothing on your mind but to leave before your tears would be a show for everyone around you. It was moments like these that made you wonder why anyone would want to seek out drama.

You gasp once you’re outside, trying to breathe in the fresh air but it feels like you can’t fully take a breath. The door behind you shuts, catching you off guard. You twist around and falter when you see Wanda.

“Wanda,” you cry.

Her eyes are sad as she watches you crumble, hands already reaching for you. You sink into her, hands moving around her to pull at the back of her long sleeve. Listening to your cries break her, tears forming in her own eyes as she stands there with you. Once the tears begin to quit, your face grows warm at noticing a family at the playground nearby.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice cracking.

“No reason to be. You’re not required to wait until the perfect moment to cry, sometimes it just happens,” she runs a hand over your face, wiping her fingers over your puffy, tear-stained eyes.

“Tyler told me to come find you.”

“Oh, practice—“ you started to tear up again and she’s quick to be stern with you.

“Do not feel bad or apologize for anything else. I want you to stop being so hard on yourself. Listen to me. Practice ended. Tyler’s dad is coming to pick him up. Im going to pack up and then we’re going to leave, okay? I want you to quiet that mind, if you need me I’ll be right beside you, alright?”

You nod. Her hand finds yours, pulling you through the arena as she finishes up. She grabs any remaining hockey sticks, setting them back in the closet. You follow her around aimlessly, occasionally helping her.

“I parked out back this time,” she grabs her bag and keys off the stand, eyes looking to you after. She asks how you’re feeling, and this time you’re honey. You shrug.

“Let’s go home.”

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

You’re not even a step into her apartment before she’s pulling you into a hug. A shaky sigh escaping her like she’s trying not to cry.

Your head hurts miserably from crying everyday, but hearing her hold it back causes another wave. It hurts when they form, but they still make an appearance, showing that your heart still has space to be wounded.

“While I do wish you’d have told me earlier that you’ve been feeling this way, I am not upset or angry at you for it,” she sets her forehead on yours.

“I am so sorry,” she cups your cheek as her own tears fall, “I said things I should have never said. And I pushed you away when I should have held you closer.”

“I don’t care,” you tuck your face under hers, “can we talk about this mess later.”

You feel her head move in a nod. Her hands pull you towards her room, where you both fall onto it.

She smiles, but it doesn’t feel real. You turn around so you can slide back into her. Wanda wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her and sets her face on your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Understatement,” you say and she laughs softly.

She presses a kiss to your cheek, “I want to stay here like this forever.”

“I love you.”

The three words take her back. Before you know it you’ve started another cry session. She flips you onto your back, smiling at the sounds you make when she kisses your face.

“Kiss me properly,” you demand, hands firmly holding her face in place. Wanda closes the gap, pulling your face closer and deepening it.

“I love you too,” she whispers against your lips, pressing a kiss between each word. Her arms wrap around you again, holding you tight. Being around her like this quiets all thoughts.

Resolving and moving past the situation will take open communication, but you’re both willing to take another chance. It was after you talked that you both realized the importance of being open with your partner as to not cause a misunderstanding. You both made an effort to not do anything before again. It took a little to work past the after-conflict. After a week, it was in the past. Every moment spent together was like you were mending what happened, and working towards the next day. Confessions and spending time together became frequent.

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

@dorabledewdroop @aru-son @thelittleliars

@sokovianbaby @natsbiggestfan1

@r0manxff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

@emiliaisdead @esposadejoyhuerta

@casquinhaa @scarlettbitchx

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #marvel wanda maximoff #cute wanda maximommy #wanda marvel #competing series #hockey coach!wanda

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arieswritez · 4 months

Note

glad you and this account exist, I feel like there’s a lack of Mark lovers lmao! but omg I can’t stop thinking about him, I feel feral but for the purpose of discussion I have to ask: what do you think his d!ck would look like?

cw; scummy bf!mark x gn!reader, abusive relationships (physical & emotional), angst, stalking, spying, harassment, manipulation, gaslighting.

a/n; i am super late but mark would have tHEE prettiest dick ever !! & i'll prove it!!!! in fact, his dick is SO pretty you'd let him do heinous things if it meant having it in your mouth teehee 🫶🏾🫶🏾 (& because i am not normal: i went on a tangent .. ik ik you didn't ask for this.. lemme alone!!! )

bf! mark who you always wanted to give the benefit of the doubt to. who'd always hide his snide comments under a playful half smile and the guise of it being "just a joke".

bf!mark who'd tell you not to worry about his relationships with other people. who'd say you were just being insecure and that he didn't know how to be with someone that like you. bf!mark who'd always make you cry whenever you voiced your opinions because he always made you feel so stupid, didn't he?

bf! mark who soon turns into exbf!mark because one day he just .. loses it. or at least, that was his excuse.

you've lost your temper many times before. with others. with him. but his anger is much more different than your own.

your anger simmers: the first symptoms of a poison muddying your mind with annoyance. the type that renders you silent with a lump in your throat. your tongue swollen with words unsaid because. . you know better. and your parent(s) had warned you time and time again about being cautious of what you say to those you love.

mark's anger is a roaring boil. explosive with scalding steam.

mark's anger is a burning fire caused by popping oil and you're the water who was naively thrown onto it in order to extinguish it. his anger is just as unpredictable as it is brief. and although you were used to the smallest of inconveniences turning into shouting matches, you thought you had mark all figured out.

plead your case. stand your ground.

wither.

apologize.

admit you were wrong.

even if you were sure you weren't.

it was the only way you could end your arguments. and you were good at playing that game. until you weren't. until the eggshells you were walking on cut the soles of your feet. up until that point, you'd never seen mark's ego so hurt.

and the backhand he gives you sends you to the ground with your right ear ringing.

as soon as you hit the floor, he's on his knees before you, cradling your face, so inconsolable anyone would've thought you hit him.

the soft press of his kisses, peppering across your face contrast with the burning sting of your cheek as he murmurs, "i don't know what got into me! i just get so angry - i swear i didn't mean to hit you that hard!"

and as you stared at him with a blank expression, your mind raced, trying to find an excuse as to what could've warranted that reaction. but for the first time, your mind went blank. and although you nodded along with his apologies and allowed him to wipe the tears from your eyes, you knew there was nothing mark could do to fix it.

you let him think everything was ok. you smile at his jokes and let him cuddle you in his sleep. . even if his hands always found themselves wrapped around your throat.

then, one day, you just. . disappear. block him from everything and register to online classes instead of in person. you stuff his 'borrowed' hoodies and expensive gifts in a garbage bag and leave it in front of his dorm.

you even go as far as to donate all the stuffed animals he gave you.

well. .

almost all.

there is one you specifically like. mostly because debbie was the one who picked it out for you. you always had a soft spot for her.

you still do. so much so that, despite the fact that you want nothing to do with mark - and the fact that you're terrified of him - you find yourself missing her.

so you keep it.

and, sure, you know there's a psychology book somewhere stating it hinders your ability to truly move on. and maybe it's right.

maybe looking at it makes your brain revert back to bittersweet memories of mark and debbie. the way she'd made her home a safe space. you're sure she'd be ashamed to find out of everything mark put you through. but you decide to keep your distance. keep the peace, and all. you couldn't bare telling her why the two of you broke up.

but you still have the text message she sent you.

i'm sorry things didn't work out. you were good for mark. we miss you.

little do you know: the stuffed animal was mark's favorite, too.

but not for the same sappy reason.

& yes, it's because he placed a tiny camera into the cute bear :)

it was a risky move but you were far too predictable. his mother was practically a saint to you. he couldn't imagine you throwing her gift away. after all, what had she ever done to you? thank god for debbie.

now, he doesn't have to be with you to watch you cuddle the stuffed toy. he doesn't have to stand underneath your window to hear you sob into its soft fur. and it's addicting, really, watching you just be in the comfort of your room because you've completely exiled him from your life. and really, who do you think you are? you make him angry enough to hit you and you're the victim?

you didn't know how and when to keep your mouth shut. that's something you should learn. and seeing as how your parent(s) hadn't sat you down and talked to you about it. . mark figured he'd be the one to teach you that lesson.

but you're spoiled.

you're sensitive.

and you obviously don't take kindly to discipline.

and as much as he loves to keep his little secret of watching you on his phone screen. . it kills him to know you won't let him anywhere near you.

but don't forget it: you still belong to him <3 and in any moment that he wants you, he could very easily have you.

one night, with the plushie at the foot of your bed, he watches you squirm. his brows furrow, rolling onto his stomach, getting comfortable as he stares at his phone screen, wondering if you're having a nightmare. the night vision camera captures the way your body moves, every toss and turn. . and then. . every miniscule roll of your hips.

he watches you kick off the blankets and he feels his cock throb in his sweatpants when he sees you aren't wearing any bottoms. . . or underwear. his hands are shaking as he watches you begin to touch yourself. and the sounds you make have him so enraptured that he barely registers when he starts to grind against the bed.

you must feel vulnerable. . watched? . . because you grab the plushie. but you don't just chuck it away. you don't look directly into its eyes and call mark an asshole like he feels you will. no. instead, you hug the stuffed toy to your chest. and even though mark can't see a damn thing anymore - you're covering the camera, fuck - he can hear you perfectly now.

the way your breath hitches and hiccups. your whines, the gasps, the faint whispers he has to strain to listen to. . incoherent whimpers of please and yes, and as he humps his bed. . it's the whisper of his name that throws him over the edge.

a few days later, you receive a message from a strange number with a video attached to it.

in hindsight, you should know better. you've been on the internet long enough to know not everything is meant to be clicked on. but for some reason, you don't think twice to open it.

on the screen, you only see a white light, before you realize it's a flashlight from a phone.

and then a cock comes into view.

you're far too surprised to turn your phone off.

it's so hard it looks painful.

it's thick, thick enough that the fist that comes into view doesn't completely wrap around it. the head an angry red, a drop of pre beading from the tip.

the fist gives a few experimental strokes, then up to the head, where it squeezes, milking, and the drop of precum smudges and dribbles across knuckles. the hand slides down again, and cups the tan, plump, balls at the base.

you hear a groan. and something about it makes you throb. you can't quite put your finger on why. . but you find yourself too transfixed to look away.

you watch as the stranger strokes their cock with growing fervor and the way their hand moves gives you a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. there's a small voice in the back of your mind, whispering could it be. your face scrunches up in disgust but you still can't tear your eyes away from your phone screen. nor can you deny the way as your heart picks up speed.

it's only when you hear his voice that your suspicions are confirmed,

"miss you so bad, baby." mark's voice drawls, the breathy words cut off by a groan. "need you here with me again."

you should block him.

you should change your number. your fucking government name and area code if necessary.

you should delete the message, turn off your phone, and be over the whole situation but you don't. his whines and moans arouse you like some sort of fucked up pavlovian response and before you know it, your hands are working along with his.

you'll regret this. the little voice tells you matter-of-factly when you pick up speed the same time he does.

you'll regret this. it hisses when your breath catches in your throat. when your face burns as you close your eyes and work yourself in a frenzy, hips rolling, imagining . . wishing . . mark was there with you, too.

you'll regret this. when you muffle a cry of his name with the palm of your hand when you hear the soft, expletive filled whispers of his orgasm. he sounds so good. so pitiful it reminds you of the first few times the two of you were intimate. times in which mark pretended he was gentle and sweet. when he pretended the hickies he sucked into your neck were purely accidental.

he sounds like your mark.

you'll regret this. this time, the voice sounds tired. like a disappointed friend at their wits end, trying to talk you down from relapsing from an addiction.

the voice goes silent.

obviously tired of you once you save the unknown number into your contacts.

#mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson #yandere mark grayson x reader #yandere mark grayson #i would take him back teehee <3 #HE'S A GOOD MAN SAVANNAH!!#motorboat sounds

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muertawrites · 2 years

Text

Cheaper by the Dozen (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: idk just Eddie being a dad to his adoptive child Dustin

Author’s Note: i adore the idea of eddie and reader being surrogate siblings / parents to dustin and the other geeks. i don’t want kids but i’ll be real bummed if i don’t get to be the cool aunt at some point in my life. eddie and reader are aged up because i’m 26 and need a man with a fully developed frontal lobe. (unrelated side note: i’m a redhead and i would literally melt into a puddle if eddie regularly called me “red” like he did max. muerta.exe has stopped working.)

Dustin was a good kid. A great kid. Spending time with him, watching him grow up from the little boy you used to babysit on weeknights into the snarky, slightly larger boy he now was made you happier than you'd ever let him know (his ego was already huge and you didn't want to inflate it).

There were just days when you wished he'd leave you the hell alone.

Your closeness with Dustin wasn't helped by the fact that he was also super close with your boyfriend, Eddie. Ever since joining the Dungeons and Dragons club for teens Eddie ran as a volunteer at the Hawkins Library ("See, you're not as scary as you look. You're soft and gooey on the inside." "Shut up. I'm metal as fuck." "You're so cute when you're grumpy." "Babe, please. Let me have this."), Dustin was attached at his hip, adopting him as a surrogate brother the way he'd done you as a sister. It was nice getting to hang with both of them, joking with Eddie about already having a kid together and who would get custody if you were to ever break up, but Dustin sometimes had a hard time with boundaries.

Like this morning, when he stormed into Eddie's bedroom, rudely waking you both from a peaceful slumber.

"What are you guys still doing in bed?" he demanded, pulling up the blinds to let in the morning sunlight. "We've gotta get going!"

Eddie groaned, reaching for the blanket and pulling it over your heads. Dustin ripped it back down, to which Eddie responded with a string of curses.

"Dustin, you should really stop walking in on us," you grumbled. You opened your eyes just enough to look at him, squinting through the haze of your grogginess. "We have sex in here. Is Eddie's bare ass really something you want burned in your memory?"

"You never complain about it," Eddie mumbled. You pinched the softness of his stomach, to which he grinned, eyes still shut.

"This is important," Dustin argued. "It's Hellfire's Six Flags day! Mike and Lucas are waiting outside."

Eddie raised his wrist to check his watch, squashing you between his arm and chest. He sighed.

"It's seven in the morning, dude. We don't leave until eleven."

"We've gotta talk strategy. Which coasters we ride and what order we ride them in could make or break our experience."

"He's got a point," you yawned into Eddie's t-shirt. "If you don't plan your meals right, he'll puke."

Eddie ignored your advice, opting instead to hug you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective cocoon to block out the light and noise Dustin wreaked upon you.

"Mommy and daddy are sleeping," he dismissed. "Go play outside."

Dustin scoffed.

"Can we at least hang out inside while we wait, or are you gonna be gross back here?"

"Nah, we don't need any more kids," Eddie deadpanned. "You guys can come in. Just shut up and don't touch my stuff."

Dustin sprinted from the room, rattling the floor as he went. A few moments later, the chaos of three teenage boys rumbled through the trailer, making it impossible for you to fall back asleep. Eddie growled in frustration, stubbornly pulling the blankets up around you once again.

"We remembered to get condoms, yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because I'll be damned if I ever spawn a little gremlin like that."

You giggled, pressing a kiss to his chin and savoring the scratch of his stubble against your lips.

"I dunno," you teased. "I kind of like the idea of calling you 'daddy'."

Eddie hummed, a devilish grin curling across his handsomely round cheeks. He kissed you, playfully pulling your lower lip between his teeth.

“You think if we’re loud enough they’ll fuck off?” he wonders wantonly, hands roving up and down your body. You laugh.

“Not in front of the kids, Eddie.”

🌹💀get your eddie fix💀🌹

#muerta's works #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 year

Note

Bro, infinite darkness Leon is plaguing my mind I’m being so fr rn. So my req is like DomInfiniteDarkness!Leon and like this reader who rlly sarcastic and bites back and shit like that and the plot is (porn 🫶 obvi) that he asks reader to ride his face (after a few days of sexual tension) and like she’s taken aback at first but then she’s like ‘he’s hot tho’ (not rlly I can’t think of a better response, u can choose) so she rides his face yeah, and he has this grip on her thighs that she can’t even try squirming away

And omg, there should be like this one part when he’s eating her and like she grips his hair and he goes feral and sucks harshly as a motion to continue the grip on his hair, also the stubble that he has should like graze her poussay and like she clenches bc of it and Leon notices 😮‍💨🤭🤭

Leon just gives pussy-eater vibes, is it jus me? 😭 anyways in not asking this anonymously bc I need this shit so bad

If u wrote anything similar, I’m sorry 😭 😭

Tyyyy ♥️♥️♥️🫶🫶🫶🫶

( I had to, he’s so fine)

ID Leon is a plague in my mind he never goes away. I was actually writing a request super similar to this so i hope the other person who requested this sees this!! I honestly don’t think it’s that good but i try my hardest FOR YOU GUYS. I made the reader plus size deal with it and if you hate it so much just block it out with your mind okay because i needed to write a lil something for me in this one. Sorry i haven’t been posting much writing i hit little blocks sometimes and feel like my writing sucks but nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix!

Disclaimer!!! This blog is 18+ only! If you are underaged please don’t interact with my posts thank you!!

mentions of afab slighty plus size reader x ID Leon!!

Warnings: Angsty kinda! Mentions of yelling, holding guns and close to death experiences. Leon forces reader to sit on his face, he’s kinda rough with her

word count: 2,826

Heavy. Your arm hanging from the metal that had been broken not even seconds before. Though you and Leon had far to many disagreements he was still your partner. Just the way his head tilted up and his hand gripped at your wrist you knew he was so angry that you would throw yourself so close to death just to save him. The metal beneath you made a loud creaking noise as you gripped at Leon's hand, your other arm folding over to pull him up onto the platform with you.

“You have a death wish?”

Leon yelled as he tried to carefully crawl up next to you as you let go of his arm. You leaned back on your arms, catching your breath, your eyes followed Leon standing up, his hand reaching down to help you off the floor.

“That must’ve really bruised your ego huh, kennedy.”

Mascara caked a bit under your eyes due to all the running and the tank of water exploding all over you. Your hips swayed side to side as you put your hand up waving goodbye to Leon, yelling something about how you’d see him next week.

——-

Leon’s jaw tightened watching your hips sway, the way your soaked shirt clung to your body. You were his rookie once, he trained you from the ground up. Once your promotion hit you never let Leon talk down to you again, and he hated it. Snarky comments about his aim, about the way he talks, how he looks in his suits.

His body screamed at him for relief, preferably whiskey. The bar was quiet and he couldn’t help but thank the god he didn’t necessarily believe in. His fingers traced over the rim of his glass in front of him. The man had too much trauma, a troubling past and current that just weighed on him so heavily that it made everything he does difficult.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Your silky voice snapped him from his day dreaming, his chin tilting down as his eyes traced every dip and curve of your body before he brought the glass to his lips, the liquid stinging his throat as he tilted the glass against his mouth. You wore that pretty black dress you had been wearing back in Grahamas office, but of course you had to change when actual shit started to go down. It hugs your hips and thighs so good, your plush legs crossing over each other as you sat down staring at your partner.

“You okay?”

For once you seemed genuinely concerned for him, Leon’s head nodding as the bartender poured more whiskey into his glass. Your delicate hand reaching forward and pulling the glass from him. Leon sighed turning himself to you in full, his hands reaching down to unbutton his jacket that held it to his center.

“What.”

A smirk quickly grew on your lips as you took HIS whiskey down your throat, your nose scrunching as you pushed the glass back to him. He was so tired of your bratty demeanor, it’s so unprofessional, so unclassy. Your hands reached out to fix the collar of his white button down as you still processed the burn of the alcohol.

“I worry about you sometimes.. Anyways, I was looking for you then Claire told me you were rambling about desperately needing a drink.”

Leon couldn’t help but admire the way your hands moved when you spoke, your eyes rolling at the mention of his small drinking problem.

“Drinking everyday is bad for your liver Leon.”

Leon groaned at your lecturing, his hands coming up to shush you.

“Fuck you..”

He grumbled, causing your mouth to drop open. Honestly you were offended. For once you were really concerned about the man which was rare from either of you because if you weren’t working, you were fighting.

“You’d like that too much, old man.”

———-

“Cmon Le.. Let's just have one more drink.”

Leon’s hands held at your waist as you stumbled into him. So while you lectured him for drinking so much you downed shots one after another right in front of him. Leon watched you ramble all night, the night he was supposed to spend for himself. After he pulled the both of you outside, you shivered pointing to your car, you hand grabbing for your keys in your purse.

“Okay bye Leon.”

You slurred as a whistle left Leon’s lips, his much taller frame coming in front of you to catch you yet again. Your hands nudged at him, trying to push him off you as you whined about it being cold and how you wanted to lay down. His hands worked at his jacket, shrugging it off and reaching for your arms and slipping it onto you.

“Stop talking and walk, let’s go, you're not driving.”

You were an idiot. Leon’s head shook in disappointment as the two of you began your walk down the street in silence. Even through your drunken fog you could see he was upset with you, your hands playing with the long sleeves of his dark blue suit jacket. He did have his moments where he got genuinely upset with you, like when you had accidentally stabbed him during training, or when you stepped in front of him and Chris during a mission to take the damage of a blown hit. You didn’t belong in this field and he had no idea how you even made it this far. He reached into his back pocket pulling his keys out before he pushed open the door, turning himself back to you.

“Inside.”

His palm rested against your lower back as you stepped inside his home, your eyes adjusting to the lighting change. Leon pulled the jacket off of you and threw it on his couch before he leaned on the counter staring at you. Standing in the middle of his living room. His annoyance was making you sober, playing with your fingernails as he glared at you. His back turned to you as he pulled a glass from his cabinet, turning on his faucet to pour water into it. You flinched as he slammed it in front of you.

“Drink.”

A laugh left your lips as you reached for the glass, taking a sip. But Leon didn’t seem to find it as funny as you did, his hands resting on the beautiful marble counter.

“Lots of one word responses tonight huh.”

You asked as you finished off the glass of water, your hand rubbing your stomach. He was in his own world, it was shocking he cared as much as he did.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

Leon mumbled as he pulled the glass into his sink, pointing to the blankets on the couch. Watching his figure walk down the hall made your skin crawl. You wanted to tell him how scared you were today, how you almost lost him. How he didn’t notice the bruise on your right shoulder from almost breaking your shoulder saving him.

————

A loud thump of a pillow hitting your face shook you from your sleep, your hand reaching for your gun as you sat up.

“Oh calm down. Let’s go Grahams called.”

Leon spoke as he handed you your shoes. You yawned, pushing your heels on before running out the door after him. It’s your favorite time of day, even though you have a violent hangover and it feels like you are going to puke with every step you take trying to catch up to Leon. Out of breath finally walking beside him you push your neck forward, nodding with that stupid smug look on your face that Leon hated.

“You clean up really nice Leon, what straightener do you use?”

How could you be so bitchy at eight in the morning, Leon’s eyes rolled, his lips pressed together as he got into his car, you not falling too short behind. Out of all the people in the department he didn’t understand how he ended up with you as his partner.

——-

“What?”

Leon stood next to you, him and the president sharing a glance as he sighed.

“Listen, Leon told me what happened yesterday and we decided collectively it would be best for you to go work for another agency.”

Your jaw grew tight, it felt like your teeth were being grinded down and your cheeks were flushed a deep red in anger. Your head snapped to Leon, your eyes squinting at him. How could he file a complaint about you saving his life? He is lying directly to the source but you had no proof he was lying which is what made the situation so much worse.

“Fuck you.”

Your words smacked Leon in the face, your body purposely shoving into his shoulder- and hard too. The sound of your heels clicking filled the hallway, your anger building in your chest as you stormed out the back door. This was your life purpose, being an agent. When your younger brother had died at the hands of Umbrella you tried working your way up to demolish it all. None of it mattered anyways because when you met Leon and Chris your life had completely changed. Even though you and Leon had too many unsolvable problems, you thought he still cared? Now you were left jobless, clueless. You looked down at your phone as it buzzed in your purse ‘Leon’ Flashing on the screen.

Stupid son a bitch.

————

Loud banging on your door woke you up, your eyes fixing on the clock on your nightstand. Three in the morning? Sitting up quickly you pulled your handgun from your dresser, tip toeing into the living room area of your flat.

“Who is it? I have a gun!”

When not at work your self defense skills were beyond poor, the banging stopped, the sounds of shuffling were heard before a small thud was heard against your door. Peering into the small eyehole of your door, there stood Leon. His eyes squeezed shut as he rested his palm against your door, you immediately swung the door open causing Leon to fix at his posture.

“Jesus christ Leon, what the fuck?”

Leon’s body pushed into your flat, slamming the door behind him. His hands grabbed at the gun in your hand, laying it on your counter. Your lower back smacked against your couch as he towered over you, his hands reaching down to hold at your face before his lips smacked into yours. No alcohol? Leons teeth nipped at your lip, pulling a low moan from you before you put your hands out pushing him away from you

“What are you doing?”

Leon’s chest heaved as he stared at you, you still looked so sleepy, your pretty nightgown resting so beautifully on your thighs. Your hair was a mess and now your lips were all puffy, he couldn’t fucking stand you. Leon’s hand ruffled through his hair as he looked down the hall to your room, your bed sheets a mess. Leon’s hand gripped your upper arm, walking down the hallway with you in his hands.

“Leon! Stop! Look at me”

Pretending you didn’t like the way he touched you was a joke, and you knew Leon could tell just by the way you reacted to his touch. A whine spilled from your lips as he shoved you down onto your silk sheets, your fingers reaching down to fix your nightgown that had flown up. The sound of Leon’s knees hitting the floor echoed through your ears, your upper body lifting as you watched him lick at his chapped lips. His head shook at the sight of your glistening folds in front of him, your thighs squeezing together as you stared down at the man. Stammers of protest left your lips as Leon’s fingers dug into the flesh of your meaty thighs, of course he was strong but you didn’t know he was this strong. A deep groan emitted from his chest as he lifted his hand, his tongue running across his fingers. His eyes finally met yours, his fingers slick with his spit rubbing small circles on your clit.

“Not so much to say now, huh?”

Oh. Your heart dropped as you remembered the paperwork you had sent in placing a complaint for him. Talking about how unprofessional he was, how he drinks on the job, and stuff about his personal life in general, your lips shook as your mouth opened, a moan ripping from your throat as Leon's thick fingers pushed into you, your hand reached down grabbing at his wrist but he pushed it off to side as he rose his way up your much smaller body. His other hand gripped at the inner part of your knee, locking it beside him as he pushed his fingers into you.

“God you piss me off, Grahams was so mad at me you know? But unlike you I didn't lose my job. You had me with your little comments but I swear if you try something like this again, I will do more than fuck you stupid, Do you understand me?”

When did Leon get the capability to be so fucking mean? Your head nodded up at him, his fingers drawing from you. Leon’s head shook in disapproval as he pushed himself off you, laying down on his back.

“Sit.”

Great. Back with the one word responses. You sat up confused as your hand reached down to cover your exposed self. Your gaze shifted to Leon who looked so pretty sprawled out onto your black silk sheets. His pupils were blown with lust.

“Sit?”

Laughter came with the question as Leon tilted his head to the side to admire you tilting your head back as you laughed at yourself. His hands tugged you towards him, making you lose your balance. “fucking brat.” He mumbled as he dragged you onto of him, your body sitting on his chest.

“Sit on my face. I know you’re not stupid.”

Leon spoke up to you as he pulled your hips towards his face but you pushing yourself back made his eyebrows raise.

“Leon, I'm going to kill you..”

You sat up slightly trying to take more weight off his chest. You weren’t the skinniest but Leon knew that you were always a bit self conscious about your weight, and the amount of times he has caught you has been extremely surprising. One look down at him changed your mind, he was looking at you as if you were the only person in the word, his tongue continuously licking over his lips, you let out a shaky breath before you brought yourself forward grabbing at the headboard. Hovering over his face still too scared but Leon’s hands reached up, pushing you down onto his face.

“Leon!- oh-”

Screams of worry turned into soft cries of pleasure, Leon’s hands reaching back to cup at your ass in his hands, somehow pushing you further into him. Your eyes finally fluttered open, staring down at Leon who seemed to be enjoying much more than he should. Never did you imagine Leon’s face so deep into you, your thighs pushing against his cheeks, the scruff on his face scraping your soft skin. His eyes opened hazily, staring up at you as he pushed his tongue into you, his hands still rocking you into him.

“Leon wait!-”

You cried out as a boiling burn started to build in your stomach, your body going to crawl off of him. Leon’s arms wrap around your thighs before you’re flipped over, his thighs laying over his shoulder as he laps at your folds on long strokes. Your hands reach down, grabbing at his soft hair. Leon moans out, vibrating your entire body as he uses his fingers to hold your folds open. He’s sucking at your clit so fucking good, your hands trying to push him away as he hold you’re hips down. He could have this view forever, the way you’re crying for him and the way you taste so good in his mouth. The amount of times Leon has wanted to force you down and suck on your pretty little clit was too many to count on his hand.

“Fuck!”

Your scream could probably be heard from all the flats around you as your orgasm flashed through your body, causing tears to drip from your eyes. A cry left your throat as Leon sat up, his fingers gently rubbing small heart shapes on your clit with a big smile on his face. He looked so beautiful, your slick covering his chin and his lips swollen from sucking at your folds for so long.

“Le.. s’ too much.”

Leon shook his head as he leaned down, sloppily pressing kissing on your lips, your own taste filling your mouth before you screamed out at the feeling of Leon once again pushing his long fingers into you.

“Jus’ give me five more of those pretty.. I'm enjoying this too much.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon infinite darkness #ID leon #LEON EATS PUSSY YUP

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carmen-is-away · 4 months

Text

angsty elliott headcanons.

content warnings: self harm, toxic relationships, mental illness, violence?, mentions of abuse

He gets attached very quickly to people he’s interested in romantically and will ignore red flags and/or try extremely hard to make them fit them into the idealized narrative he’s created of them in his head

He tends to isolate himself from others once he’s in a romantic relationship and hardly ever spends time with people besides his partner

He worships his partner, I’m talking devoting his whole life to making them happy and ignoring his own wants most times

Loves his partner wholeheartedly and is willing to do almost anything for them, even if they’re not always the best to him

He very desperately wants to be loved

He begrudgingly disowned his parents, they were terrible towards him and never supported him along with being horribly neglectful and abusive albeit having more than enough time and money to do so

He gets violently angry and destructive when his writer’s block is at its peak.

I’m talking throwing his journal across the room and shoving everything off of his desk. He’s pulling his hair and yelling and destroying his surroundings and probably hurting himself

He makes sure to not let his partner or anyone see this though. He hates when people worry about him.

It’s usually followed up by a long and sob and horrible depression episode that lasts somewhere from a few weeks to months.

What can I say? He feels his work very strongly

That also goes for the opposite

He’s running to read you his latest poem because he’s fallen in love with it and he expects you to as well

He may have even brought himself to tears

He will be all over you and ready to jump over the moon if you love it as much as he does

If you aren’t as tender as enthused as he hopes you’ll be or you judge his work harshly with less than constructive criticism, it will be a large blow to his ego and it will break his heart a little

He will understand if you’re busy or tired or not able to put your full focus on it, but if you can and you aren’t, or you're being an asshole, he’s super hurt and he may not always admit or display that in front of you

He craves validation, please give it to him, he might actually go insane without it

He also needs affection. He’s very insecure and will begin to wonder if you’re not attracted to him if you haven’t been affectionate with him in a while. He’s been quite touch starved for a long time

Elliott’s a very broken man and he requires a lot of patience and attention

He needs security and stability and someone who won’t take advantage of him

Please give him the space to make decisions and be accepting of him and give him your attention

Despite his terrible mental health, he’s a wonderful partner and father. Even when he’s doing terribly, he’s all ears and open arms for his family

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley headcanons #elliott stardew valley #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley imagines #elliott stardew valley imagine #sdv elliott #elliott stardew valley headcanons #elliott headcanons

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palajae · 2 years

Text

hype boy.

PAIRING ▸ slytherin! niki x gryffindor! reader

GENRE ▸ hogwarts! au, rivalry! au, e2ls, romance, angst, fluff, humor

SUMMARY ▸ you and niki supposedly hate each other’s guts, everyone knows. slytherin vs. gryffindor, green vs. red, no one can break you two apart- except when a night on the quidditch field may prove otherwise.

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.7k

AKA (un)fortunately for you, niki is indeed your hype boy.

NOTES ▸ mentions of hospitals, slight injuries, kissing, food, not proofread ???

part of the charms and chasers miniseries.

“MOVE YOUR BIG HEAD.”

you hiss at the boy in front of you, hand gripping your quill tight in frustration.

your number one nemesis, rival, enemy, whatever you wanted to call him because you had plenty more demeaning options, just so happened to sit right in front of you in transfiguration.

he whips his head around, sending you a cocky smile before sitting up even straighter and completely blocking your view of the professor. you groan in annoyance. ever since niki hit his growth spurt last year and shot up, he had been more irritating than ever. it’s like he had another one-up on you, which wasn’t fair at all that he got such good height genes. and with that glow up of his came attention from girls. not that you cared, but having his ego inflated even more didn’t make it any better for you.

sure, most girls fawned over him and his so called charming personality- something you didn’t understand, even since the day you met him back on hogwarts express your first year.

it was a cloudy day and you just so happened to be slightly late. okay, maybe extremely late. besides getting an earful from your parents, you scrambled onto the train and into the first compartment you could find. said compartment coincidentally housed niki.

he didn’t try to even hide the annoyed once over he sent your way. at that time, you understood his reaction and meekly apologized before asking for a seat. but throughout the ride, as your friendly attempts to make conversation with the young boy were instantly blocked by snide remarks and lowkey insults, your disdain began to grow.

and when the sorting hat declared you in gryffindor and niki in slytherin, you remember the look you two exchanged on the way to your respective tables. it was a challenge. and it lasted for years.

two super stubborn and competitive students, always wanting to be better than the other, called for a rivalry. nothing else mattered- just the outcome, just the winner.

it had always been that way. you vs. niki, niki vs. you. always sporting the typical gryffindor vs. slytherin and red vs. green. as the years went on, the rivalry only continued. you hated his cockiness, rudeness, snarkiness. you hated every -ness and every point to the finest detail about nishimura riki. the same could only be said for him, because why else would he continue his arguing and pranking against you for no reason?

you thought about that day a lot, what you did that made him dislike you. and then you wondered why you were wasting time thinking about the raven haired boy, slapping your cheek to get out of it. didn’t matter, didn’t care.

so what if niki and you were bound enemies? he, his newfound handsomeness, and his big head could go get smacked by the weeping willow.

he wasn’t even that cute.

“you okay, y/n?” you snap out of your thoughts, glancing over to your seat mate. jay seems concerned, giving you a questioning look as you shake your head.

“it’s nothing. i just can’t see what the professor’s doing,” you whisper back. nodding in response, jay passes his notebook over to you as you thank him with a grateful smile. you eye the humongous head in front of you.

you seriously consider flipping the bird at him, and by that you mean procuring a real bird and flinging it the back of niki’s head.

monday. lunchtime.

the only thing you can remember is niki turning the mint chocolate chip ice cream you were eating into actual toothpaste. and then proceeding to make fun of you in front of the whole school for your affinity for the flavor.

“who knew y/n would resort to eating toothpaste just to fix their stinky breath?”

rolling your eyes, you slam your spoon on the table. a few people are laughing, others are disapproving (for your taste preferences or the prank, you’re not sure). most were unaffected because after all, it was you and niki.

you squint at him and he shrugs nonchalantly in response.

it doesn’t take long for you to transform his water into mouthwash and watch with relish as he chokes and splutters. eyes wide, he can only watch as you innocently bat your own eyes at him, pocketing your wand with satisfaction.

meanwhile all of your friends and his barely take a second glance, used to your shenanigans.

tuesday.

niki mentions a grass stain on your robes- which obviously leads to an argument midclass. why the world decided to give you four out of seven classes with niki (mainly back to back), you wish you knew.

“maybe because some people have such dedication to their sport and it obviously pays off,” you drawl.

niki’s nostrils flare in annoyance. you knew how riled up he got when you mentioned quidditch.

he quickly raises a hand over his eyes, pretending to search for something over the top of your head.

“did somebody just say something? i swear i just heard-“

you huff, fire in your eyes.

“how long are you going to keep doing that? it’s getting old, really.”

he scoffs while crossing his arms over his chest.

“old? what about that time-“

you hear an aggressive clearing of the throat and you both falter. your professor narrows his eyes at the two of you. finally, you quite down. but it isn’t over yet.

when you leave class, he sends you a look that means just wait until later.

you and niki always seemed to find each other in the hallway, it was like your eyes were automatically accustomed to doing so. it was a habit- finding him the moment you entered a room or any space. his presence was so invoking, so invoking that it called for you to meet his eyes. another challenge.

whenever you shared eye contact, even for a split second, the game would begin. every sneakily side-eye, disdainful look, infuriated glare. nasty words and insults spewed across the room without even moving your lips.

today he leaves with a corner of his mouth tilted up, like he knew something you didn’t.

you swear, his trademark smirk that some girls literally swoon over are in your nightmares.

the only one up you had over niki was on the quidditch field- which obviously your rivalry continued there too. you were proud to say gryffindor’s winning record over slytherin this season was 4-1 (you had to admit the thought of beating niki made you train extra hard during practice).

when you get on the field that evening, you sigh and look at the list.

practice match: gryffindor vs. slytherin.

that explains niki’s reaction.

you crack your knuckles. no biggie.

as swift and sneaky niki was, you knew all of his tricks. he could read you, and you could read him, but just a little bit better.

you go onto the field, joining your teammates. again, niki catches your eye and you study him. what was he planning?

when the whistle blows, you shoot up into the air. scanning the field from above, you rush towards the first sign of movement you see and grab the quaffle with ease.

your path to the hoops is open, that is, until a green flash cuts in front of you.

you grit your teeth as your broom immediately halts. so this is the kind of game he wants to play.

every time you had the ball, niki would somehow find his way in front of you. you would constantly swerve and avoid him as best as you could, but he would always find a way to block you from their goal.

all of a sudden, you flip around, heading towards your own team’s goal. shouts of confusion fill the air, and you can physically feel niki behind you, right on your tail.

wait.

you see the goalpost, the sight of it getting larger and larger as you close in on the distance. although confused, the slytherin behind you continues his pursuit.

a little more.

you hear yells of your name, clamoring and chaos. you instead tune them out and focus.

now.

right as you’re about to go through the middle goal, you suddenly lift your broom and flip upside down, heading back the opposite way to the right goal. niki is forced to make an abrupt stop and turn around so he doesn’t run into the goal.

niki was the only one who could keep up with your speed and without him in your way, it’s free sailing past all the other slower players to slytherin’s goal. easily, you score and your teammates cheer on.

niki finally catches up with a shake of his head. “are you sure you didn’t get put into the wrong house?” he calls out, swerving around on his broom.

you smirk, a glint in your eyes. “i don’t know, did i?”

your bickering doesn’t stop, even when you get off the field. he follows you as your teams watch in amusement (and certain female spectators in jealousy, which you ignore pointedly).

wednesday.

you enter the great hall with minji and leeseo, excitedly discussing your upcoming match against slytherin.

“it’s almost time for me to kick niki’s butt again,” you cross your arms with a content sigh.

minji shakes her head, “what’s the record so far?”

you shoot her a grin, dancing playfully, “soon to be five to one.”

leeseo raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, but before she can say something, you notice her eyes trail off into the distance.

“what?” you frown, “what is it?”

they step back and in the midst of chattering students, you frown and turn around-

only to be met face to face with jisung, a seventh year in your house.

“h-hey, y/n…” he starts off nervously.

you gulp, not liking where the conversation was heading. jisung was a kind and shy upperclassman that you met through your friend minji who was also a seventh year. you had only had a couple interactions with him, so his sudden encounter was puzzling.

“hey jisung. did you need something?”

he scratches his head, and you suddenly become self conscious of the few surrounding eyes falling on you two.

jisung mumbles something along the lines of your time but you couldn’t quite catch it.

“what?” you step closer to hear him and if anything, he physically reddens.

“are you free this weekend?” he says a little too loud for comfort, avoiding your gaze.

you tense.

if anyone truly knows you, they know that although you’re a gryffindor, you hate public confrontations. you hate anything that deals with your personal feelings in front of other people, in front of strangers. you know it doesn’t make sense, especially with all your public fights with niki. you don’t know why but you just hate the thought of everyone knowing your private business.

arguing with niki was a norm, you were used to it and had been for years. but romance? you honestly had no clue how to deal with that and now that you were pressured to give jisung an answer in front of everyone made it even worse.

silence falls upon you and for some reason, in that split second, you catch niki’s eye some feet away. you’re surprised to see him already watching you, but in the moment that isn’t the most looming thing on your mind. niki stands there with an unreadable expression and your eyes quickly flick away.

“jisung- well,” you pause, aggressively chewing on your lip. trying to formulate your thoughts quick enough to not make an awkward silence between you and him was extremely difficult.

the situation feels overwhelming, so you pick at your robes. his expectant eyes on you, your friends still watching from behind, you feel as if everyone’s gaze was judging you immensely- silently screaming at you to give an answer.

all of a sudden, you feel a cold sensation crash over you. gasping and spluttering, you wipe your eyes to see yourself (and the floor around you) completely soaked. your robes dripping, hair flat, you whip around.

gasps and murmurs erupt around you and ask if you’re okay. you ignore them.

all you see is a glimpse of green robes flying out the door and past the corner. you stomp angrily after niki.

your shoes squelching, you cringe. it isn’t hard for you to catch up with him, yelling out an disdainful, “hey! big head!”

you clench your fists together as he turns around slowly like a robber caught by the police.

“what was that for?”

you wring out your sleeves, flinging the wetness at him. in your outrage and confusion, you begin spewing out baseless words. "are you just mad that i’m the one getting attention from other people now? are you that jealous that you‘re not special anymore?“

his mischievous demeanor suddenly changes. niki looks serious, and maybe even upset? you’ve never seen him like this and it makes you falter.

his gaze bores into you.

“why do you automatically assume i’m a horrible person? why do you always think i have the worst intentions? is it because i’m a slytherin, because that’s just-“

“of course not!”

“then why do you always fight with me about everything?” a hand runs through his hair, “i saw you were clearly uncomfortable with that jisung guy so i tried to, i dunno- divert the attention away.”

silence fills the air. the only thing is the sound of your clothes still dripping water onto the floors. for the first time, you don’t have a comeback.

niki was right. sure, dumping water on you was a bit harsh, but his intentions weren’t bad. niki, your proclaimed enemy, was trying to help you.

the whole time everything you did or said to niki was in defense. because his words always got to you and you needed to build up a wall to protect yourself. to prove yourself that anything niki did wouldn’t affect you.

even if it wasn’t serious when you were younger, you realized your fighting with niki became a whole different matter.

niki waits and waits for you to respond, but you only stand there quietly to reflect. with a worried expression, he comes closer to inspect you.

he brings a warm hand to your face, examining you with wide eyes. “did i do something wrong? did the water hurt you?”

for a second you’re so shocked you can’t move (or process the dumb question- it was water for goodness sake). then the warmth begins to flood into you and you push him away.

“w-what are you doing?!” you yelp, flustered.

his actions must’ve hit him at that moment because he freezes. you mirror each other with embarrassed gazes.

his mouth opens and closes repeatedly. you blink.

“i- you, we just-“

instead of holding a proper conversation like normal people, once you hear the door to the great hall open for kids to get to their next classes, you and niki both bolt in opposite directions, sporting angry blushes that others figure it was due to a heavy argument.

you don’t know why. you honestly have no clue. but after that day, you managed to apologize and kindly reject jisung (someone you respected but truthfully held no affection for) and travel back in time.

back in time meaning every memory of interactions with niki. you were just being immature- holding onto long time grudges and insecurities.

you know you had a lot of history with niki. but maybe you should try to see things from his point of view. maybe you both needed to grow up and realize the truth.

for the first time, you and niki acknowledge each other in the halls with a nod. for the first time, the classrooms and quidditch field are quiet without your constant bickering. for the first time, you and niki (kind of) get along.

besides the unspoken situation that happened between you and niki, you attempted to be kinder to him. and so did he.

well, for the most part.

“pass me the vial,” you call out to niki and he turns around.

when you reach out to take it, he jerks his hand away and you huff, glaring at him. niki simply grins before handing you the vial. and that was it.

while the two of you work absentmindedly, the rest of the class (including the professor) watches you with jaws dropped.

you pack up and head out of class, stopping when you hear a call of your name behind you.

leeseo stomps over, and your eyebrows raise.

“hey, what’s up?”

she crosses her arms, whispering indignantly, “i don’t know! you tell me!”

you tilt your head, confused. “tell you….?”

“how for the first time in hogwarts history you and niki didn’t argue in class?” she pauses, “you know what? i feel like i haven’t seen the two of you fight for a while. what happened?”

your mysterious shrug doesn’t make it any better.

“is it because you realize your feelings for him?”

you choke on your spit.

“excuse me?”

she nudges you playfully, “you know? the whole enemies to lovers thing? i can see it.”

you shake your head vehemently, “that’s literally only a thing in movies. you’re funny, leeseo.”

but the worst thing is, you do think about it. enemies to lovers? you and niki?

there’s no way. you spent your whole life up until this moment hating him. you shiver in disgust, shaking off the thought.

sighing, you make your way down the hallways, alone. you left your ink in herbology and desperately needed it for notes.

opening the door, you quietly make your way to your desk in order not to disturb your plants.

or the sleeping figure in the corner.

wait. what?

in alarm, you make your way over to the peaceful figure lying down on the desk. and then you pause.

it was niki.

and for some reason, you can’t help but just look at him. niki looked like a completely different person when he was asleep. he was much more tolerable.. and much more childlike.

it was almost cute.

you quickly blink. an idea formulates in your head, but you no longer charge ahead with confidence. you hesitate, debating whether pranking him would be too much.

as long as it was simple and harmless, it would be fine, right?

you draw out your wand, tiptoeing closer without a sound. but before you can mutter the incantation, a sudden shove from behind makes you gasp and stumble closer to him.

you were too close to him, faces only inches apart. your eyes grow impossibly wide. for a second, you study his long eyelashes, pouting lips, and his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

when niki mumbles in his sleep, you come back to reality. you shoot up and whip around to see the perpetrator who pushed you. it was-

no one?

frowning, you look around for any sight of movement. that is, one of the potted mandrakes slightly rustles its leaves. you glare at it accusingly, muttering under your breath.

a surprised sound comes from your left. niki stares at you with confusion and sleep still in his eyes.

“y/n?”

you grip the scarf in your hands tighter. “s-sorry,” you hastily apologize. “i had to grab something.”

you turn to dash out of the classroom, but a hand stops you.

“where are you going?”

“to supper?” you respond, confused.

he groans, getting up from his position. “okay. me too. might as well go together.”

throat dry, you have no response.

a comfortable pace set, it’s quiet as you walk together. you glance at him through the corner of your eye. niki stares at the ground, hands in his pockets.

“why were you sleeping in herbology?” you ask abruptly to break the tension.

“wanted to stay for tutoring and waited for the professor who didn’t show. i guess i accidentally fell asleep.”

“oh. okay.”

“what did you forget?”

you gesture to your ink bottle and he nods. “you could’ve asked me for some.”

you roll your eyes, feeling more relaxed. “and risk you giving me disappearing ink during an exam?”

he looks away sheepishly, “you know me too well.”

you cough, “yeah, yeah.”

the distance between you two shortens, yet your conversation is interrupted when you reach the great hall.

when you notice niki’s absence, you turn to him. “not going in?”

he waves a hand offhandedly, "actually i’m not hungry. see you later.”

bewildered, you wave good bye without another word. a silent question lingers in the back of your head.

then why did he come all the way with you?

you begin to question yourself. why did you feel that way when you saw niki up close? it was the same as the time he placed his hand on your face in concern. you didn’t like it. it bothered you.

walking out of your commonroom that night for some fresh air, you hear commotion coming from down a corridor. you continue walking, hearing a group of voices. but you pause when you hear a distinctly familiar voice.

“-there’s no way, man.”

“sure, but don’t lie to us. we saw you with them the other day. you were actually having a conversation- like normal people.”

your blood runs cold. was that niki and his friends?

could they be… talking about you?

“sure, but that’s just speaking words. listen, i don’t like them. i’ll never have feelings for them like that.”

you don’t know why disappointment fills you instead. you don’t why you head back to your dorm and hide under the covers. why you try to distance yourself from him, try to keep yourself from getting misunderstandings and more hurt.

it’s obvious how you don’t even try to talk to him anymore. no more bickering, no more jokes, and no more niki. you didn’t realize how much of your day revolved around the boy.

how much you woke up looking forward to squabbling with niki, hearing his teasing, seeing his grinning face.

you actually missed him.

but if that’s what niki thought about you, then it was fine. you would think the same about him. you were fine. you had to be, and in order to be unaffected, you needed some distance.

you see the way his eyes burn a hole into you when you pass by in and between classes. when he tries to talk to you, you give short and one worded answers.

all your friends teased the way he would watch you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. niki would see the way you laughed with no heart behind it and smiled without it reaching your eyes.

to take your mind off things, you focused on quidditch. you focused on your upcoming match against slytherin.

that is, until the day before your game. you got off the quidditch field after practicing alone, sweaty and breathless. as you put your broom and gloves up, a hand yanks you to the side.

your breath leaves you as you find yourself pushed up against the wall. breathing heavily, you realize pretty much immediately who it is.

his arm effectively traps you, hand on the wall next to you. niki’s dark gaze is intense, and you know he won’t leave without an answer.

“what’s going on, y/n? you don’t talk to me anymore, you don’t even look at me. what did i do wrong-“

for a second, the only thing you can hear is the sound of your breaths mixing. you squirm at how you can feel his body heat pressing into you.

“nothing is wrong,” you grit out.

“why won’t you look at me?”

you do, locking fiery gazes. he searches your eyes, but you won’t let him in.

“let. me. go.”

you jab your finger into his firm chest with every word you enunciate.

“no.”

he cocks his head, still waiting for an answer. you sigh.

“don’t worry about me. focus on yourself and the game tomorrow.”

exhausted, you push past him with barely any fight.

“don’t even think about following me,” you call out one last time wearily.

match day. you thought you were ready, even though you barely got any asleep after what happened yesterday. minji sports red and gold face paint, hyping you up before the match.

everything happens in a blur, from when you get into your starting positions to when the whistle blows and you’re suddenly up in the air.

you focus on the flying projectiles, looking for the ball. but a looming presence behind you doesn’t make it any better.

you ignore him.

“y/n!” niki calls out for only you to hear. to spectators, it seems like he’s chasing you around for the ball, which was indeed his position, but you knew he was just following you.

you swerve around, away from the quaffle. shouts of confusion fill the air as the spectator comments on your move- but you could care less.

niki zooms in beside you.

"why are you avoiding me?” he yells.

“i’m not.”

“tell me!”

my god, he won’t stop. you forgot how stubborn he was.

“stop following me!” you groan before turning away.

“y/n, can we at least-“

for a second, you glance behind you to see where he was. a major mistake.

mainly because you don’t see the hurtling bludger straight towards you. as your head turns back, niki calls out your name. panicked.

“watch out-!”

your player instincts manage to dodge, but you veer off so harshly that the force causes you lose your grip on the broom and fall off.

the last thing you hear is a shout of your name and a flash of green. the last thing you feel is the wind howling in your ears and warmth encasing you.

everything hurts. the lights are too bright.

your throat is incredibly dry- even more then the time niki snuck a puking pastille in your food that left you by the toilet for hours.

you let out a weak croak, eyes feeling impossibly heavy but you manage to open them. the sight of the hospital wing comes into focus. what were you doing here?

when you try to shift, you suddenly notice the warmth encasing your hand and by your lap.

“niki?” you cringe at how dead your voice sounds.

he shoots up at the sound of your voice in the chair next to your hospital bed. his hand tightens around yours.

“y/n- you’re awake!” his warm eyes leave you feeling uncomfortable fluttery on the inside.

“yeah,” you cough. “what’s going on?”

he gives you a glass of water before explaining. “you fell off your broom avoiding the bludger. i managed to catch you but the impact caused you to pass out.”

you furrow your eyebrows, recalling the events leading up to your fall.

“the nurse said you’re fine, just some bruises and aches. you’ve been out for a couple hours.”

you’re silent for a second before speaking up, “so who won?”

niki frowns, disapproval evident on his face. “y/n. you fell like a hundred feet and ended up in a hospital, and that’s what you care about?”

you suddenly grow half defensive, half embarrassed. your hand feels clammy in his.

“why do you care? i mean, why are you here with me?”

“what do you mean? i-i was worried about you, obviously.”

you huff bitterly, “worried? i thought you said you didn’t like me- and never would.”

“what?” he responds incredulously.

you cough awkwardly, telling him about the time you overheard him and his friends.

he suddenly breaks out in laughter, leaving you offended. “thanks for eavesdropping, but i was talking about some creepy stalker girl who wouldn’t leave me alone.”

you resist the urge to slap yourself. “so that means…”

“i don’t not like you.”

“you don’t not like me?” you repeat to yourself.

niki suddenly stammers, “i-i thought it was obvious. i thought it was really obvious back in our first year. but then you actually got angry, and i just kinda kept up with the act throughout the years-”

your eyes bulge, “so everything you did was to get my attention?!”

“maybe?” niki sighs, raising his hand that was tightly gripping yours.

“i was deathly worried about you, and a really stupid kid. so, y/n, would you please forgive me?”

suddenly the proximity between you two feels too small, the air in the room too hot.

“pretty please?” he pouts up at you.

what happened to the niki from yesterday? you bite the inside of your cheek before the gyrffindor side of you takes over.

“you know what? if you want to make up for the last however many years, just kiss me.”

for once, big head listens to you.

a/n ▸ happy halloween to anyone who celebrates!! and thank you to the overwhelming support on this miniseries <33 it was a real struggle but it’s finally completed!

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @lov3niki @heesterical @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii

SERIES TAGLIST ▸ @ritsusakumasgf @minimarkive @lilactangerine @shinsou-rii @ahnneyong @nomniki @nyanggk @imtaehyungry @seattlesolace @allthegirlsmialoved @annoyingbitch83 @jakahbot @leeis @heavenforatlas @acciocriativity @loveza1nab @juliemr0 @en-martieru @uomre @rubysluvbot @notdrunkbutdazed

UNABLE TO TAG ▸ @/27melodies

#enhypenwriters #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #niki x reader #niki x you #riki nishimura x reader #niki imagines #niki fluff #niki scenarios

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months

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"I've mended all my ways, repented, seen the light, and made a switch."

The fact that Rollo has a voice line where he genuinely expresses an interest in visiting the Mostro Lounge KILLS me 😂 This fan art in particular makes me laugh a lot!

It's also at this point that I realize I thought the Heartslabyul headcanons with Rollo would be super long (because of there being 5 members in that dorm), but the Savanaclaw and Octavinelle headcanons ended up being even longer...

A Big Octavinelle Welcome to Rollo!

Rollo's interest was piqued when he first heard about the on-campus eatery that Azul runs. However, he keeps flip-flopping on whether or not he should go. On one hand, he’s curious about what it’s like—but on the other hand, does he really want to give that smug octopus his business??

… Eventually, Rollo gives into the temptation. He settles on an excuse to go while still protecting his ego and guilty conscience: I must survey his cafe to ensure that there are no misdeeds being committed… Who knows what sort of shading things may be happening without a watchful eye and regulations?

He goes through the mirror and emerges in the world wet and full of wonder. Down a corridor with glass walls, Rollo peers at the passing marine life with caution (as if they, too, were in on some scheme). For as peaceful as the bottom of the sea may be, he’s wary of the monsters that also lurk in its depths.

He follows the faint sound of smooth jazz to the lounge. Upon entering, Rollo finds it packed with mob students at every table, stuffing their mouths with food and filling the air with noisy chatter. He reluctantly wades over to the front desk, handkerchief to his face to keep himself strong in this dense den of depravity.

The suited host greets Rollo with a bow and a smile that feels a little too familiar. That immediately sends alarm bells ringing in his head. “Welcome to the Mostro Lounge, Rollo-san. Azul has been anticipating your arrival for quite some time.” (“… Has he now?” How positively shady!)

“We have a table specially reserved for you. Please, right this way.” He follows the host, not letting his eyes wander off his back for one second. To Rollo’s shock, he’s seated and handed a menu without any issues, then is left on his own to peruse. Odd. Given his other experiences at NRC, he was expecting some sort of unnecessary ruckus—

CRASH!! Right on cue, a mob student goes flying across the room and smacks right into a wall. A waiter with a face nearly identical to the host’s is the assailant. “C’mere!!” Floyd says coyly. His grin isn’t quite as coy—it’s maniacal. “I’ll squeeze the rest of the tip right outta you! That’ll teach ya to cheap out on us!”

Floyd advances on the frightened mob student, who is scrambling away on his hands and feet. Rollo blinks and rubs at his eyes, wondering if what he just saw was real or a figment of his imagination.

Jade is suddenly blocking his field of vision, wearing that same suspicious smile again. “Would you care for recommendations?" he asks, gesturing to the menu. "If you'll direct your attention here, this is our limited-time autumn menu. It features an assortment of freshly picked mushrooms..."

Rollo tries to get up or to crane his neck—anything to get a better look at whatever the pandemonium that Jade is trying to conceal is. Alas, the eel follows him like a shadow and expertly blocks all of his attempts (all while reciting the recommendations as he had promised earlier).

“Please keep your eyes on the menu, Rollo-san,” Jade advises patiently. “It will be difficult for you to decide which items you would like if your eyes are wandering to places they shouldn’t be. You must believe me when I say there is nothing of importance in this lounge but your own leisure.” (There’s a light chuckle that accompanies those words, and he doesn’t like it one bit.)

Rollo is forced to browse the menu (and forced to listen to Jade drone on and on about mushrooms). He’s appalled by the absurd pricing on the items (did the devil set them?)—even the simplest ones have huge markups!! But ultimately, he has to concede and opt for the overpriced plain dishes to appease his sensible palate. No indulgent dishes for him, no sir!

Jade doesn’t move until the conflict is settled; when he finally clears away with Rollo’s order for the kitchen, Floyd has finished “cleaning up” after the public nuisance. He casts a nonchalant look around the room and goes, “Hah? What’cha gawking at? Everybody go back to eating unless you wanna be next.”

“… That man just now, what happened to him?” Rollo speaks up—not that he would ever defend the scum of NRC, but he has a thing or two to say about the way the problem was handled. At least air the dirty laundry in private.

“Ehhh, who’s askin’? I don’t have to answer to anyone!” Oh no, Floyd’s eyes have lit up like those of a cat that has spotted new prey. “Hehehe, I know exaaactly who you are! Azul’s special guest guppy…!” (“Everyone and their brother seems to know,” Rollo grumbles.)

He’s unnerved by the way Floyd’s grinning—as though he knows something that Rollo doesn’t—so he quickly drops the question and shoos the eel off. Unfortunately, Floyd keeps returning to his table to annoy him with little disturbances: offering a refill on water (which sloshes all over the table), asking if he wants straws or napkins (then chucking a handful of them at him), calling him by the wrong name (which Rollo makes sure to correct), etc.

… Rollo’s starting to believe Floyd is doing all of this to purposefully annoy him. (He has to resort to taking deep breathing exercises and mutter various peaceful mantras to keep himself from lashing out at the waiter.)

Rollo never thought he’d be thinking this, but the other twin is his savior from the hell that is dealing with Floyd. In comes Jade with his order, which contains many more items than Rollo recalls ordering. Many of them are extravagant and arranged on ornate china platters. “On the house from the manager,” Jade explains, setting the heavy tray down. “I will leave you to enjoy your meal. Come along, Floyd.”

The twins skitter off, leaving Rollo to his own devices. He takes a second to decompress from the stressful encounter with the Leeches—and when Rollo thinks about it, he doesn’t mind the atmosphere of this place. It’s quiet and calming, with a classy yet understated look to the lounge itself and its staff. Maybe it’s not so bad after all.

He places a napkin in his lap before beginning on the feast, taking care to carve everything into more digestible chunks before nibbling at them. Of course, Rollo doesn't plan on gorging himself (there's no way he could finish all of this!), but he doesn't want to be wasteful either. Perhaps a healthy compromise would be to take the rest to-go and eat the leftovers over the course of a week.

As he's in the middle of mentally plotting out his next meals, the entire lounge unexpectedly darkens. Gasps and cries of surprise ring out from the mob students. Then a blinding spotlight appears in the middle of the room, and Rollo almost chokes on his buttered bread roll.

Azul is illuminated by the spotlight. He throws his arms out in a friendly gesture, beaming out to his captive audience. “Gentlemen! It is with great pride and pleasure that we of the Mostro Lounge welcome you to this special evening. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy your meals and conversations set against a calming backdrop of the sea’s melody.”

Their performance begins: Azul on the grand piano, Jade on contrabass, and Floyd on drums. Rollo wants to detest it, but he can’t bring himself to. If he closes his eyes and wills his mind elsewhere, the opening notes envelop him and soothe his weariness, like waves washing away his fatigue and stress.

“I’d like to dedicate this song to a very special guest,” Azul announces, “to our visitor from the City of Flowers, Student Council President of Noble Bell College, and, of course, our dearest friend, Rollo Flamme-san! May the bond between us and our schools be ever stronger.”

His eyes fly wide open. The spotlight drastically swivels, the bright, hot lights suddenly on him. This time, Rollo really does choke on his bread.

He downs what he can of his meal as quickly as he can, wanting to slap some money on the table and to be out before Azul can embarrass him further. That crafty octopus has planned for this though—none of the mob students stop by to give his check, locking Rollo in a social circumstance where he has to stay put (or else be labelled as a dine-and-dasher, a criminal).

He sits there quietly coping and seething for the entirety of the performance. The calm waters the music once provided has suddenly turned scalding. Rollo’s gaze seemingly burns holes in the Octatrio as they finally (FINALLY!) wrap up and bow for their audience.

Azul and the twins then make their way to Rollo. Were it not for the booth itself, there was no doubt in Rollo’s mind that they would be circling him like sharks. Jade and Leech stand on either side of them while Azul clasps Rollo’s shoulders in an overly familiar way (it makes his skin crawl).

Before he get a word out edge-wise or demand for the check, Azul declares, “Our dear Rollo-san just so happens to be Mostro Lounge’s 10,000th customer!! As such, he has won himself a most generous prize: one free consultation with yours truly! A round of applause for him, everyone.”

The applause kicks up, and Rollo’s head is spinning from confusion at Azul’s ludicrous statement. He doesn’t have the luxury of fully processing what it could mean or what his true intentions are—Jade has looped one arm under his, and Floyd has seized the other.

What is the matter with these two?! When I said I was interested in a visit to the on-campus cafe, never did imagine I would be accosted by thuggish men during it!!

“Release me!! Unhand me!!” Rollo roars, flailing his limbs uselessly as the twins drag him off to one of the back rooms. The mob students avert their gazes, pretending as if they don’t see him—they’re unwilling to get involved themselves. “IS THIS HOW NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE OPERATES?!”

Into Azul’s office he’s ushered, seated before the proverbial mob boss himself. Crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together, Azul calls for Jade to fetch tea. Floyd lazily flops onto an adjacent seat and drapes his limbs all over it.

“Rollo-san, it’s been so long! We must catch up before getting down to business,” Azul croons. His voice is disgustingly sweet and slimy, caked on thick. “Tell me, how have you been? How are you finding our fair school? I’m all ears.”

“Don’t act as though we are friendly. Nothing could be further from the truth.” Rollo makes a face, concealing his grimace of disapproval with his handkerchief—Azul spots it and his eyes glimmer with recognition. “I’ve seen through your ruse, you miscreants. I won’t be deceived by the likes of you and your minions.”

“Oh? And what, pray tell, are the misdeeds you suspect on our part?” Azul asks innocently.

Jade places a fresh cup of tea in front of their guest, then Azul. The steam rising from the cups shrouds their faces in a curtain of faint white, obscuring both truth and lies. Floyd is on the edge of his seat, waiting for a good brawl to break out. Jade joins him, matching his deranged grin. (All they’re missing is the popcorn.)

“… I thought it odd that you would be ‘anticipating’ my arrival and that you would go to the trouble of preparing to receive me. Trying to win my favor with free food and a show, it’s clear you were trying to butter me up for something.”

“Me? Butter you up? Never,” Azul insists, but his smile is a little too wide. “I only wish to help you, to deepen the relationship between ourselves and of our respective schools. Networking and making useful—oh, excuse me, I mean deep—connections is important for young adults.”

Azul bows elegantly. “… I offer you my services, Rollo-san. Speak your heart’s desire, and I shall see if I can make it a reality. In return, I expect a favor, should I happen to call upon you. We will also serve as each other’s contacts for our own schools. You see? It is a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Rollo instantly sees what he is: the devil looking to make a deal. The twins with their razor sharp teeth, his hellish imps seeking free amusement.

He stands, fists clenched, expression enraged, and lets nasty words torrent out. “You’re sorely mistaken if you think I’m open to negotiating any sort of terms with you. You’d be better off propositioning someone with fewer brain cells. Maybe start with your dopey-eyed classmates before you attempt at seducing something out of me.”

The thing he wished for more than anything else… that was something no one could make a reality. The best he could hope for was some form of retribution—retribution that Rollo sought to bring about with his own hands. He would never be able to live it down if he entrusted his ambitions to someone else, let alone a nefarious mage. Soon, brother. Soon, I will bring about a fairer world in your name—a world without magic, without sin, without suffering…!!

“I understand.” Azul nods, accepting Rollo’s decision, but doesn’t totally back down. He offers a rectangular angluar cut of paper. “My card. If you ever wish to have your woes be heard, you know how to reach me.”

Rollo snatches it out of his hand and crushes it. He storms out without another word, crumpled business card still in his grasp.

“How unfortunate that Rollo-san did not take the bait,” Jade sighs. (“It was funny watching his face twist though,” Floyd cackles, flopping over in his chair.)

“No matter.” Azul says with a shrug. “I foresaw this from the very beginning—which is exactly why we took precautionary measures to ensure that we still earned something from his appearance at all. Isn’t that right, boys?”

They smirked at each other knowingly. Everything had been carefully calculated from the moment Rollo had stepped onto campus. The big show they had put on, the loud declaration to the lounge and its customers… “Our dear Rollo-san just so happens to be Mostro Lounge’s 10,000th customer!! As such, he has won himself a most generous prize: one free consultation with yours truly!” (That had been a convenient lie, made up for the whole publicity stunt.)

All of it was an elaborate pretense for one explicit purpose: to plant a seed of suggestion in the other customers’ heads. A free consultation for the 10,000th customer? Then perhaps they could be the next lucky man to be the 20,000th one. More incentive to return, more lines skewered with tasty bait, cast out into the sea of waiting customers.

“Fufufu, another excellent job well done, if I do say so myself.”

While Azul and the twins are gloating in private, Rollo has made his way to the first fireplace he can find. He furiously casts Azul’s accursed business cards into the flames, relishing the moment it turns entirely black and ashen. No, Rollo swears to himself. He won’t be swayed by the devil. He was made stronger than that.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Floyd Leech #Azul Ashengrotto #Rollo Flamme #Octavinelle #Jade Leech #Tweels #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons

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silverstudios · 19 days

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Your first hibernation (Veldigun Alex fic)

This is me offering this as a peace offer to be forgiven for being an angst gremlin earlier. Enjoy the cuddling.

Alex glanced outside their cave, wings twitching and fluffing up in an attempt to keep warm. It had been…a while since they had left their human form and life behind, a while since they became partners with Clyde and Winfrey, it had been a while since the summer they had by all terms, died and been reborn…

But this was the first time they’ve seen snowfall with these new eyes.

It looked the same, little white sparkling flakes of ice falling from the sky and coating the grass before them, bringing with it an icy chill and that muffled silence only snowfall could bring. Alex knew all of this, these sights and sounds were nothing new.

The intense exhaustion that hit them the moment it started to snow, however, was.

Their eyes felt heavy, their limbs even more so, and it felt like they could just lay down and pass out in a moment's notice. And in some way, they were used to that. It had taken them quite a while to get into a “Healthy” sleeping pattern for a veldigun, and during the morning they had felt in a similar way to how they felt right now.

Except it wasn’t morning, it wasn’t even sunset- it was about 8pm, this was their time to be awake.

“Ey.” A chorus of voices familiar to them whistled behind them, and Alex glanced back- just in time for Clyde to put a dead animal in their face. Alex couldn’t even really see what it was- it was too mauled and gorey and they didn’t have their glasses on- but the smell of iron woke them up a little.

They took it, mouth stretched and tossed the whole thing in, the crunching of bones and flesh a common enough sound now for them not to flinch at them. Clyde rumbled- it always got an ego boost whenever it successfully got Alex or Winfrey to eat- and leaned onto them. It’s tail curled around them both and it glanced up. “Winter’s coming…” “Hm….” Alex glanced up at the sky then down at Clyde. “.....is….it normal for me to feel super tired right now?” Clyde blinks for a few seconds, head tilted and brow raised.

“I mean- I was fine and then I saw the snow and got slammed with intense exhaustion. Is that normal?” “OOOOOhhh yeah that’s completely normal” Clyde stretched- and yawned, far too many teeth and its third eye showing for a moment- before rubbing its eyes and sticking its tongue out. “It’s just about time for us to go hibernate.” “......velidguns hibernate?”

“Every winter- normally starts sometime after Halloween.” Cylde leans a little more onto them, face gently buried into their wings. A quiet purr raced from it, and it snuggled a little closer.

Clyde loved Alex's wings, and loved how soft and fluffy they are. Alex has just gotten used to waking up and falling asleep with Clyde's face and claws buried between their feathers.

“Hm….I guess that’s why the asylum was always so quiet during winter…” Alex glanced away, wings twitching and eyes flicking open for a moment before flicking closed. “.....is there anything special we need to do or?” “Me and Winfrey have got handled.” Clyde rumbled, arms wrapping around the smaller veldigun, lifting them up and heading deeper inside their home. Alex didn’t bother complaining or squirming, they knew very well that both would have no effect and the exhaustion was starting to win, eyes flicking shut every few moments.

“Winfrey~” Clyde sang out, stopping in front of the large veldigun and shifting alex in its grasp, holding the green velidgun out in front of it like a cat or a ferret. “Take the sleepy bird, I’m gonna block us in.”

Alex snickered as winfrey took them, their entire torso fitting within the clawed and calloused hand of their partner.

Winfrey smiled down at them and their thumb ran across Alex's head before they laid down, Alex set into the crook of their arm and gently squished as Winfrey laid their head on top of them.

“You two and my feathers.” Alex grumbled softly as they fluffed up slightly, eyes refusing to open as they snuggled into their partner, who chuckled. “They are quite comfortable.” They hummed, their voice shaking the air around them slightly. Alex never figured out if that was Winfrey’s hallucinations or just the fact they are so big, but in the end it doesn’t matter. What mattered right now was how comfortable it was to be cradled like this, how heavy alex’s limbs felt- to the point they couldn’t move them if they wanted- and just how wonderfully warm they felt and how comfortable the nest they had created was.

Stolen blanket, currants and pillows alongside fallen leaves from this last fall, not to mention the handful of plush gifts that Robin had given them. Bats, candy corns and other sweets in soft plush form and a handful of other soft items lined the nest, sparing them from laying on the hard stone surface of the cave.

They were vaguely aware of the sound of shifting stones, barely audible over the soft humming coming from winfrey…and when the stones stopped, they could hear the clicking of claws against stone….

And became very much aware that Clyde had joined the pile as arms wrapped around them and the sensation of a face getting shoved into their wings occurs, followed by the weight of the smiling snatcher getting fully onto them squishing them further into Winfrey’s arm.

As the two mix their humming and purring, Alex lets their body go limp and head flop fully onto their partners arms. They could get used to this Hibernating business…

#doai sitcom au #veldigun alex #doai clyde #doai winfrey #alex williams doai #Soft cuddle movements #silver writes #take my peace offering

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