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jester089 · 6 months

Note

Gotta say, massive fan of the work you’ve pumped out, especially for TADC (it came out two weeks or so ago and there’s this much already what?!)

That said, could you write for the gang (separately, I’m sorry l know it’s a lot) who’s s/o resisted abstraction? Like, they were halfway through but turned back through sheer will? *Insert John Wick reference* This has been ping ponging in my head for a while. Thanks for listening! XO

Glitchy pain

I've written for something like this before. And I wasn't sure if you wanted angst or fluff. But since what I wrote before was angst I'm gonna just donna do my ideas on this one. Also to anyone else who feels like requesting don't be afraid to ask for a lot of characters. My max is like 10 and only because Tumblr doesn't like super long posts. I honestly don't think I would have a max if not for that. But really from like 7 pm to 4 am I got a lot of free time and the want to write. So ask to your hearts content. TADC crew x (kind of) abstracted reader

Caine

Caine was floating around when he heard what sounded like a pained and glitchy scream? He quickly floats over to where he heard it from only to find you clutching your head crumpled up into a ball on the floor. He was about to float down and ask you what happened before he noticed the random glitches, black spiky flesh, and randomly colored eye balls all appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. So he backed off, a little sad over the fact you were abstracting but life goes on. Until you let out another pained scream, it was almost like the abstraction reacted as the second you screamed it reverted a bit and slowed down. It continues like that for who knows how long. You in a mental and physical battle with abstraction. Caine just staring completely taken back by what he was witnessing. After enough time you vomit a nasty and seemingly living blob of black goo onto the floor and pass out. Caine stares at your motionless body for a few seconds before snapping out of it. He puts the weird goo blob into the cellar and takes you back to your room. He doesn't even know how to react, so he sits there at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. Once you do he is relived to find it's still you, speaking in full sentences and everything. Sure your voice and body have the occasional glitch but overall you're ok. So he leaves you be, mostly. He still needs to study your code for how you did that. But past that and him being a bit more "walking on egg shells" around you, but nothing really changes. And not wanting the others to think your a threat, you and Caine don't tell anyone.

Gangle

Gangle was wandering around looking for you. Her comedy mask broke again and you were the only one who knew how to fix it properly. She could patch it up sure but it never lasted long. Much like Caine she heard you scream out, only difference being she recognized your voice. She quickly changed from casual and aimless stroll to sprint with reason finding you leaned against a wall holding your stomach looking like your about to throw up. She runs up to you and places a hand(?) on each side of your head staring into your eyes. She in a panicked voice asks "Are you ok?! What happened?!" You half shove her away a garbled and messy version of your voice half screaming out that it isn't safe. You quickly regret taking the energy to speak and move as a giant surge of pain jolts up your digital spine forcing you onto your knees. You let out another pained groan/scream as black goo starts oozing out of your mouth. It's only then that Gangle realizes your glitching! She panics and tells you to stay calm while she gets Caine. Gangle sprints off with a mission luckily finding Caine rather quickly. She especially screams at him to help her/follow her. He listens and follows her. When she gets back to where she left you, your passed out. But you aren't glitching anymore. And your not fully abstracted. She carefully walks over to you and sets a gentle hand (ribbon) on your face feeling a whole lot of relief when you half swat at her hand in your sleep. She'll watch you while you sleep making sure you aren't disturbed but when you're awake and she's sure you're ok you are going to be getting a whole lot of cuddles from her. Her comedy mask can wait.

Zooble

Zooble was missing a leg and was hobbling/jumping her way towards your room to ask if you'd seen it. She knocked on your door only to receive no response. She knocks again. Nothing. So she unlocks it with the spare key you gave her. She is stunned by what she sees. Obsessive scribbles covering your walls. Wall paper torn and dirtied. She takes a few cautious steps before finally hearing you say in a horrible sounding voice "P̵̑��̛̣̤̪̄͆̚p̴̹͇̆̑̐͠ṕ̷͔̼͙̅̀͐̿͋͜͝P̵̢͚̩̱̮̭̉͜͠l̵͔̟̰̘̼̹̼̯͉͆ḛ̴̣͈̖͛̈́̏̏͌̕͜a̴̢͇̣̮̠͕̮͆̾s̸̡͉̣̺̯͚̾̈́͋̃̑͊͘s̵̼͛̃͛̄̏̊̊͜͠ͅs̷̨̯̬̯͊e̵̢̪̜̗͙̞͈̠͌̔͠s̸̢͔̝̳̞͈̭̲͂͆̇̄͛́́͗ͅͅ ̴̗̻̳̗̜̙̹̘͒̒̑̅̂̎̚͘w̴̰̘͂͊̌̒͘w̸̢̦̑̍̈́͊W̷̨̄̑̌̂̚͝W̵̦̙͇̝̲̪̝̫̜̰̄͑̚w̶̮͐̏̀͊͠h̴̬̤̠̩̰͋͗̾̓̈́̍̅ó̴͍̭͇̯͚̮͔̽̓̔̈́ ̶̥̑͋͒̿̀Ê̶̼͎͇͍̳̯͌͋͐̓̋v̸̢͓̩͗͜͝v̴͇͇̮̻͖̪͕̰̹̫̔̌̎̇̑́ë̷̪̤̫̪͌͂̓̕͘e̵̢̨̱̘̗͙̘̱̱̩̎̾̀v̸͍̄͠ë̶̡̙̠̣̰̠́͜r̸͇̰͖̍͑͌̆̌ ̷̯̼͕͍̭̭̲͙̰̽̈́͝y̷̪͉͓͗̿̀̐̈̃̆õ̷̢̜̮̬͒̈́͒̿̀̽̈́͂̈́ǘ̸̡̟̭̩̠̜̬͙̃ṵ̴̭̮̹̯̺̜̤̈͂̽u̸̬̠͉̺͍̰͉̦͌̋́̃͌̊͘͜ ̵̲͖̩̹̲̊̐͂͝͝a̵̰̩̻̗͕͎̮͈̥̫͂̂̌̆̆̎̑a̴̭͒͐̏̎́́͝à̶̛̘̮͍̟̻͕̰̽̍͛̽̈́̃͛͝r̴͎͚͇̻̞̬͑̂̅̿͋̅̂͊̔ą̴̛̱̱̗̔̈́̈́̔͒̆̌͘͠r̵̺̰̬̹̮̬̘̜̈́̊͗͛̅̌͌͘͜ę̸̛̺̞͚̹̘̱̥̲̒̍̏̔͛̌̚ȇ̴̩.̶̛̖̙̦̝̹̰͔̉͂̆̉̐̾̐͠͝ ̵̘̙͎̼̻̩̬͖͌̉̾̂̄͜J̵͐̏̇̈́̑̃͜͝͝j̶̛̠̬̟̓͗͗͆̆̀̈́̿̂͜j̴̢͍̦͉̯͑̍̓J̷̨̧̢̳̟̠̯͖͖͚̐̈̏̓̈͐̎̐͝j̶̫̞̬͖̯̯̹̺̩͆̾̽́̈́̄ͅJ̵͖̘̫̓u̷̡̧͔̥͇͕͔̞̠̇͛̈́̎͂̌͂͘̕ş̶͕̫̎ṫ̷͈͖̲̩͉͌̅̍̈́́̿ ̷̠͕͕̖̜̻̯̻̖̃̏̀͂͑́l̷̳̣̼̓̈́̊̈́̈̎̀́̋̚͜L̶̡̜̣͔͔̼̠̗̎̇̈́̕Ļ̴̞̟̱̹͓̹̪͖͚̂̐͐̑̂͆̐̓̚͠ḽ̶̢̧̙̺̯͖̰͓͐͗̽̈́̃̔̀̾̕l̴̢̢̳̜̣̦̎́́̔̕̚e̷͔̫͉̘͉̓̓͋͊̀̿̄̕͝ͅã̷̡̢̝̮͔̮̰̱͒͌̈͊̾͂͠ͅͅv̷̗̼͎̠̝̋̓͒͛̂͐͜͜è̶̪̟̲̘̃̓ ̴̺̊̉͑̉̽̅́̕̕m̸̧̦͔̙͍̘̭̲̄͂m̸̧̫͎͌̀̃͜ͅM̴͍͍̫͚̺͚̪̺̿́̒͋̂͐̿͗̚͘m̴̛̘̼͔͑̿̏̅͌̊̾̕e̴̩̟͈̙͑̏͐̆̓͆̏̚͠͝ ̵̳̤͉͉͙̬̥̉̓́̀̓̃̀̌̊͜ͅḁ̶̧̗͈͍͍̉͂̀͆͗̾̆́̚͜͝l̴̜͓͈̄͌̓̈́̉͊͊̍͝a̵̲͒̋̂͐́̊̕̚͝â̶̢͕̫̘̮͈̻͕͙̩͑̂ḹ̵̨̮̓̓̊̍̕̚͝o̵͖͔̥̳̊̐̀͠n̵̺̥̲͔͔̿͋̊ë̶̯̤̻́̌̎̎́̾͋̄̄̋.̵̪̑͆̀̎" (Please whoever you are. Just leave me alone.) She cautiously walks over to your bed and peaks over it. Your laying there curled up into a ball torn and broken items surrounding you. Y-your abstracting?! B-but... Zooble doesn't even really register the fact. She's in shock from seeing you like this. (I mean I would be too) You let out an ear piercing scream and claw at your own face with enough force to tear the skin, if you weren't digital at least. The glitching gets much much worse for a few seconds before just, stopping. No rhyme or reason that she can see. But you can bet your a&$ that after like 5 seconds pass and you stop showing signs of abstraction she's going to huddle near your spitting out so many questions. Mainly ones like "ARE YOU OK!?!" and "Your still with me right?! RIGHT!?!"

Kinger

Kinger would more likely then not be there when your first started glitching. And that might make him officially lose it. Your the second person in this hell (Queener) who he felt close too. And he outlived you too. Still you aren't abstracted yet. Maybe their's still a chance! So he sprints off screaming out for Caine in a voice that is loud enough to make you go deaf if you were too close to him. When he finds Caine. And he will find Caine he grabs him by the shoulders and sprints towards where he last saw you. He basically throws Caine at your glitching form and yells at him to fix you! In that second you stop glitching Caine did nothing and Kinger will basically tackle you. He'll pick you up and hold you over his head like a spear and sprint towards your rooms. Once there he will set up the comfiest coziest pillow fort possible then get you all comfy inside. Once he's sure your at least mostly safe and he's at least mostly calmed down he'll ask you about what happened. (Despite him being pretty crazy I really do feel like out of everyone he would be the best at communication in a friend or relationship. I mean he's that crazy and yet he still has manners and knowledge about a lot. Tbh he might become my fav. Idk it's possible.)

Ragatha

You were helping out Ragatha with a surprise she was making for everyone to lighten their moods when you said that you feel kind of sick so you were going to call it a night. She nods thanks you for the help you gave then gives you a quick peck to the lips as a send off. Not to much to her surprise you choose to lay in her bed instead of yours. Just something you do when you don't wanna be alone. She shrugs it off and keeps working actually quite grateful that you decided to not leave, not fully at least. She keeps working but stops when she hears some very concerning noises coming from your sleeping body. She turns around to see you tossing and turning an abnormal amount in your sleep, as well as making a lot of noises that sound like when someone is choking on their own blood. Concerned she carefully walks over to check on you only to recoil when she notices the glitching. She trips over her own foot and falls over onto her back. She quickly but clumsily gets up and gets back to you. She shakes you a bit trying to wake you up, but you don't only concerning her more. She yells calls out for Pomni who pokes her head through Ragatha's door a second later. Ragatha nearly screams at her to go get Caine. Pomni startled by Ragatha's tone turns heel and runs off to look for Caine while Ragatha stays with you. She keeps whispering things like "You're gonna be ok" and "Pomni's getting Caine just hang in there". Always keeping a hand on you not caring when it starts glitching out too. When Pomni returns with Caine, Ragatha full on yells at him to help you. He looks at you, then back at her, then with a apologetic tone says their isn't anything he can do as abstraction is one of those things he doesn't have control over. Ragatha breaks into tears. So she's gonna lose you, she was even there. BUT SHE CAN'T F@%#&$* HELP?! She holds onto you like you're her last tether to reality. And you seem to get better. Your at the very least don't seem to be in pain anymore! So she squeezes you, really f&$%@#* hard happier then should be possible that your improving.

Jax

Jax found you in his room voice glitching you huddled over in pain. At first he thought it was a revenge prank and acted accordingly. "Haha, very funny Y/N. Now get out of my room I need to do something." That is until you vomited up a ton of pitch black goo. Then he started taking it more seriously. He quickly crouches down and wraps an arm around you to try and provide some support. He freaks out and quickly pulls his arm back when you vomit up more goo and starts visibly glitching. He panics and quickly looks around his room locking onto a like 3 day old unopened water bottle. He opens it and hands it to you as well as a thing to squeeze that half yells to just hang in there he'll be right back. He sprints around not even knowing who to get. He sees Ragatha and half tackles her. He shouts directly into her face that you need help and that you in his room. He tosses her in the direction of his room then continues sprinting around not long after finding Caine. He grabs Caine ignoring his protests and runs back to his room where he fins Ragatha sitting next to his bed you tucked in. Your not vomiting anything and you aren't glitching. You're just shivering. He hears you mumble his name and literally kicks Ragatha and Caine out quickly getting to your side. After he feels he wont get hurt he quickly gets into bed holding you close "If you ever do that again I'm going to take back my vow to not tease you." He falls asleep with his chin resting on your head.

Pomni

At first when you started glitching Pomni didn't really know it was abstraction. She's never seen someone abstract after all, only seeing the finished product. But when you keep getting worse and worse she realizes that something is wrong. So she leaves you with a quick kiss then runs off to the communication thing Caine made after the whole Kaufmo incident. She calls him and when he picks up she screams into the phone that your glitching out. When Caine appears next to her she runs back over to where you are not even checking if Caine is following. When she gets back to you, you're still in really bad shape. She turns back to Caine and yells at him to help you. When he tells her that he can't she starts hyperventilating, then she sees him pick you up and the cellar hole open?! OH F&#$ NO! She basically punches Caine then clings to you protectively, ready to throw hands with Caine if she has to. Caine tries and pull her off when she starts glitching but she has the grip of a professional rock climber. So Caine has to keep curing her glitches at they appear. Cause in his mind your beyond help but she isn't. Then you start to improve. No more coughing and the glitching has slowed down! Pomni glares at Caine then turns back to you with a scared and tired smile on her face. Once your ok enough to talk you are going to get an earful. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HER YOU WERE FEELING BAG ENOUGH TO ABSTRACT?!?!?! (Sorry this was so long. I got a little carried away. And surprisingly I'm pretty proud of this one. I hope you enjoyed it!)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #kinger x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #pomni x reader #noob author #not beta'd

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yournowheregirl · 7 months

Text

@eddiemonth day 4: rejection

rating: T | wc: 913 | cw: hurt/comfort, general & UD related anxiety, hoh!Steve, pre-Steddie

Eddie flops down on his bed with a load groan.

He blindly reaches for a pillow and once he’s found one, he uses it to muffle his screams. It barely dampens the sound, but he's home alone anyway. He screams and screams until his throat starts to hurt and the tears he tried so hard to ignore, finally well up in his eyes.

Another rejection.

Another place that didn't want to hire him.

Even with all the strings Hopper and those government guys had pulled to clear his name, Eddie can't escape his brand-new reputation of local satanist and serial killer. There was a press conference and everything, and a personal apology from the police department, but it still wasn't enough to sway the public's opinion of him.

But he has to get a job, like yesterday. They'll run out of that government money sooner or later and he can't expect Wayne to continue cleaning up his mess. Wayne's done enough of that already.

Eddie's tried almost every place in town. His first instinct was the record store and the garage, because that's what where his interests and experience lie. They turned him away as soon as he came in to drop off his resume.

When he told his friends about his job search, Steve immediately offered to put a good word in for him at Family Video. Robin would ask their parents if they knew about any job openings and Nancy would do the same, though she'd avoid Eddie's name while talking to her father. Gareth, Jeff and Frank suggested he'd ask for a job at The Hideout, while Jonathan and Argyle suggested the local pizza place, because of course they would.

None of those jobs ever got back to him.

Today was one of his last resorts. The diner on the other side of town had an opening for a dishwasher. Not exactly the kind of job Eddie wanted, but it meant keeping a low profile and it would pay the bills. He'd take the job in a heartbeat, but the restaurant manager took one good look at him and sent him away before she even took one good look at his resume.

"We don't hire murderers." She'd sneered.

Any other day, Eddie would've maybe stand up for himself, made a whole scene, maybe even called the cops to prove his innocence yet again. But he was so burnt out from rejection after rejection, that he just shrugged, got into his van and drove all the way back home.

Even though the screaming helped a little, Eddie can still feel his mind buzzing, thoughts of anxiety swirling around and threatening to swallow him whole if he doesn't do something quick. He rolls off the bed, put whatever tape he can get his hands on into his boombox and turns up the volume to the loudest setting.

Other people might listen to soothing music to calm down, but Eddie needs the loudest, most aggressive music to drown out the thoughts in his head. The thoughts of never getting a job and leaving it up to Wayne to pick up the pieces, driving him to work harder and longer, until his brittle body can't take it anymore. Thoughts of losing their home again, being forced to call Rick again

It's all his fault. Everything is his fault.

Tears slowly roll down his cheeks as the music continues playing, so loud that he doesn't hear Wayne coming home. So loud that he doesn't hear Wayne picking up the phone to call someone. So loud that he doesn't hear the knock on his bedroom door twenty minutes later.

It's not until his bedroom goes completely quiet that Eddie finally notices he's not alone. For a second he thinks it's Wayne, but when he hears a muffled "oh thank God" from the other side of the trailer, he realizes that it must be someone else.

"Y'know, if you were so jealous of my new accessories, you could've just said so. No reason to shatter your eardrums like this." Steve says with a teasing grin. The sunlight reflects on the hearing aids he'd gotten a few months ago and of course, he pulls it off like he's a goddamn Calvin Klein model.

"Sorry."

Eddie's voice is small, barely recognizable to his own ears and Steve immediately picks up on it. His teasing smile fades away as he walks over to the bed and sit down next to Eddie. He shuffles around a bit to find a comfortable seat against the headboard and pats his lap.

Completely drained from his terrible day, Eddie doesn't even try to fight it and cuddles up next to Steve. He rests his head in Steve's lap and lets out a sigh of relief when Steve's hands find their way to his scalp.

"What's going on?" Steve asks softly.

"Another fucking job didn't want me." Eddie mutters against the fabric of his polo.

Steve hums in acknowledgement. "I'm sorry. You wanna talk about it or do you want some quiet time?"

"Quiet, please."

"Alright."

See, with Steve around, Eddie doesn't need the music to drown out his bad thoughts. They float away on their own as soon as Steve cuddles with him and starts massaging his scalp. Or, on other occasions, they float away when Steve distracts him by talking about Robin's hopeless love life.

Steve being there for him just helps, in general.

Eddie doesn't wanna look into that realization too much.

#eddiemonth #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #alice's writing adventures #give this boy a hug pls!!!#also not beta'd i just word vomited this so pls excuse any mistakes

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syrupgirl · 1 year

Note

Sorry if you have done this before but maybe you could do a neteyam x reader and he is introducing you to his family ?

Love ur work btw

a/n: I did change this a lil so I hope it’s still ok, so reader knows the Sully’s vaguely and has only been known as a friend to Neteyam but now he is introducing reader as his potential mate. Also thank you for your compliments :p <3

(sum more notes at the end <3)

reader uses she/her prns and her body stays un-described

Mate material -Neteyam

“Is this really necessary, Neteyam,” You whined, sulking behind him. “They already know who I am, I feel like I’m meeting them again.”

He smiled and continued to wade his way toward the shore.

“Well, you are in a way. They will be seeing you in a different light now.” This man. He has some cheek.

Water whipped around your ankles as you ran after him. Taking Neteyam’s hand in yours, you spun him around and tugged on his arm repeatedly.

“Do we have to tell them? Why can’t they…Just figure it out on their own?.” You felt like child now, complaining over something so simple, but that’s how being with Neteyam made you feel; all fuzzy and floaty on the inside. Things were simple and easy when you were with him.

He finally stopped waking and took his arm out of your hand, replacing it with his hand.

“I understand if you are nervous, they can be,” he paused as if to take a moment to find the words. “intimidating when they want to be.” It came out as a laugh.

You snorted, “Your mother in particular.”

“She loves you!”

“She likes me as your friend, she might not as a mate!”

Neteyam sighed and pulled you closer; he could tell this was really bothering you.

“It’s not like there has been some, huge, drastic change. We’re still us, just…A more together version of us.”

A reluctant smile bloomed on your lips. “You sound stupid.”

“Ah.” You giggled as he pushed you away in mock offence.

“I take back what I said, you should be terrified.”

“Neteyam!”

Eclipse had come and the Sully family were gathered in their Marui, happily feasting on their dinner.

All that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and chewing of food, until Lo’ak took it upon himself to break that silence.

“So, big bro, what happened with yn today?”

Suddenly, all eyes were on the eldest Sully. A small smirk jumped onto Kiri’s lips and she quickly went to cover it with her hand and Tuk looked genuinely worried for your health. Lo’ak had a shit eating grin on his face; he knew what he was doing.

Neteyam gulped, disguising it was swallowing a mouthful of his dinner. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I saw you two getting awfully close in the water.” Neytiri looked as if she had finally checked into the conversation, putting down her meal and looking to her sons.

“I just thought maybe, she might have been hurt?”

Like a hunter watches their prey, his family set their gaze on him, silently hungering for more information.

In an effort to appear cool headed, Neteyam shrugged. “She was fine, not hurt.” He looked to his brother and shot him a look, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh no, just curious.” It looked like Lo’ak would leave it now and Neteyam internally sighed in relief.

“How is yn, Neteyam? Haven’t seen her in a while.” Jake asked. Oh well, the questioning wasn’t over.

“I think they are onto us.”

You let those words sit in the air they were spoken into.

Neteyam’s arm tightened around you and you turned more into his chest. The pool of water around you wrinkled gently with your movements.

The two of you had stashed yourselves away in a lone terrace, not unlike the ones that bordered the lagoon outside the village, but this one was a secret place for you both. Where you could be with each other without worrying about prying eyes or annoying brothers.

Finally, you answered him, “What makes you say that?”

Neteyam sat up more, causing you to be partially shoved off of him.

“Lo’ak started asking me these annoying questions while we were eating dinner last night!” He looked like he was a getting really upset; brows furrowed, arms waving wildly, voice raising.

You frowned and caught one of his flailing hands. “What kind of questions?”

“Just stupid ones! Like, why we are spending so much time together and why we were getting so close to each other yesterday in the wate-”

“Be calm, Neteyam. Slow down.” You brought his hand to your chest. “Breath, deep breaths.”

Neteyam stopped his ranting and sighed out a long breath. As best as he could, he copied your breathing.

“Now, explain to me why this bothers you so much?”

He is still for a moment, looking a little embarrassed. “He’s putting his nose where it doesn’t belong, it is just not his business.”

You snort at that, “Are we not about to announce our relationship to your family? Honestly, it’s not a surprise that one of them found out before.”

Neteyam sighed again. He turned to face you and gently took your face into his hands, looking between your eyes.

“I want it to be on our terms, not because of Lo’ak’s prying.”

“I understand that,” you hummed. Your hand covered one of Neteyam’s on your face and you leaned into it. “Sounds like we need to act on our plans a little faster.”

A kiss was planted on your forehead and you smiled giddily.

“I don’t want to push you, I know you are a bit nervous.” He mumbled into your hairline.

Your free hand found his face and brought him back to where you could look him in the eyes. Your thumb glided back and forth along his cheekbone and his eyes drifted closed.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

It really felt like you could not handle it.

The sun was high in the sky, beating down onto your skin. On a day like this, you would usually be bobbing up and down in the waves, happily soaking up the rays, but on this occasion all it was doing to you was elevating your already rapidly growing panic.

You and Neteyam sat on the woven walkways not to far from his marui. Today was the day where you would finally announce your relationship to his family. A monumental occasion really; the eldest son of Toruk Makto and former leader of the Omatikaya, had found himself a partner, a mate, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

You had met the Sully family many times before, you regularly spent time with Lo’ak and Kiri, even spending time with little Tuk. But now, you were seeing them on such different circumstances, they might as well have been strangers.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Neteyam had offered, an effort to quell your growing nerves, unfortunately this just spurred into motion all the thoughts of things that could happen; ranging from awkward silences to Jake and Neytiri chasing you out of their marui for trying to take their firstborn away from them. Extremely unlikely and just downright stupid, but you were just grasping at straws for anything that could go wrong.

“Why can’t- why can’t you just tell them while I am far, far away?” Neteyam laughed heartily at that but you were deadly serious.

“Oh yes, I can see it now,” Neteyam gasped between giggles, “hey mom, hey dad, you know yn? yeah I want her to be my mate. Where is she? Anywhere you aren’t.” His laughed picked up at his own joke and you groaned, hitting his chest with your balled fist.

“I love your family, Neteyam. I really, really want this to go well!”

“And it will! We’ve had this same conversation over and over, i don’t know how else I can reassure you.” He reached his arm around your waist and dragged you closer to him. “Would you like me to tell you in english? I know a little.”

Neteyam said something you didn’t understand. The language sounded so silly you couldn’t help but cover your mouth to hide your giggles.

“Should we get going? They should all be home now.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Neteya- oh, and yn?” Jake paused. “How are you, yn?”

The entire Sully clan, excluding Neteyam, were all seated around the cooking fire inside the marui. Jake and Neytiri parked up close to each other: Jake prepping fish for cooking and Neytiri wrapped then placed it above the fire in front of them.

Kiri and Tuk sat next to their mother. The older girl attempted to teach the youngest how to repair a torn Ilu saddle.

Lo’ak lay next to his father, apparently completely uninterested in whatever was happening around him, until the two of you entered together, after which he sat up looking infinitely intrigued.

Tucking your arms behind your back, you squeezed your hands together and mustered up a smile.

“I am well, thank you, Toruk Makto.”

Jake continued to de-bone the creature he was holding before speaking to you again, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

You glanced to Neteyam, the nervousness you had buried starting to resurface again. He took a deep breath and reached behind you, taking your hand tightly in his.

Neytiri, who hadn’t looked entirely phased by your presence, suddenly perked up. Her eyes fell onto your intertwined fingers and then back to your face. It felt as if your heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Actually, sir, there’s…something I want to tell you.” Neteyam’s voice had an uncharacteristic nervousness to it and you could feel the smallest shake in the hand that held yours.

The whole family froze, each with sightly different looks on their faces. Lo’ak looked like he was on the verge of hysterical laughter, Kiri had her own little smile while Tuk was ready to hang off of your every word.

“What is it, Neteyam?” Neytiri asked. She stood and Jake followed suit.

The grip on your hand tightened before Neteyam spoke, “Yn and I, we wish to be mated. Before Eywa.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the family before you reacted. Lo’ak, who had been quietly munching on his dinner, suddenly started to choke and thumped his fist against his chest in attempts to dislodge the obstruction.

Tuk and Kiri had the same reaction, shouting “What?!” at the same time. Tuk visibly more excited about the news, while Kiri looked like this was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.

“My son, you are not yet a man.” Neytiri urged, slowly pacing towards her eldest.

“I have passed two of the three rites of passage of our clan! And now that we live amongst the reef people, I can complete the three by passing one of theirs!” The two of you had anticipated these concerns and had done your research on the matter. Since the Sully’s no longer lived among their own, the three tasks Neteyam had to complete to be welcomed into the Omaticaya as a man were no longer possible. It seemed only fitting that he finish of these tasks by overcoming the Metkayina’s last rite of passage that their men had to accomplish.

“Taking a mate is a serious thing, son.” Jake was now face to face with Neteyam. He had a stony look on his face. “I know you’re friends with yn, evidently a bit more than that, but this will be the person you spend the rest of your life with.”

Coming up beside her son, Neytiri put a hand on his shoulder. “Your father is right, Neteyam. These decisions cannot be rushed.”

By Eywa, you wished the ground would just swallow you whole.

Neteyam noticed your embarrassment and doubled down. “I know that, we know that! We have been talking about this for a long time and we’ve thought of everything.”

His father narrowed his eyes, he still didn’t look convinced, so you decided oh well, you already ready feel like you were in over your head, what’s a little more?

“If I may,” All eyes turned to you, “your son is the most caring, most passionate, and most mature man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He is infinitely understanding and loves with all he has. I cannot speak on his behalf, but I trust in the decision I have made to have Neteyam as my mate.” Your words continued to get smaller and smaller as your felt their stares bore into you.

Silence filled the space, broken up by the soft sound of crashing waves and the chittering of stray Ilu.

Neytiri spoke first.

“This is truly what you want, my son?” The mother laced her hands with the sons free one.

“More than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life.”

A look was shared between Jake and Neytiri and their children stared on.

“Neteyam,” Jake sighed, “I give you my blessing to pursue your remaining rites of passage by the Metkayina.” His hand reached up and latched onto the back of Neteyam’s head, bringing it closer to his own.

“My son, I see you.”

Your partner’s lip quivers and his brows told upward, it is clear he is using everything in him not to cry.

“And you, yn.” Jake turned to you, bringing his hand up to his brow and then back down again. “I see you.”

You repeated his gesture and sniffed, emotions running very high. “I see you, Toruk Makto.”

Jake smiled. “No need for the formalities, not now that we’re family.”

The rest of that night was filled with light and laughter. With songs and delicious food. You couldn’t think of a better way to be welcomed into this beautiful family.

Your heart had never felt so full.

a/n: so we only know 2 of the Omaticaya’s rites of passage and judging from how Neteyam has a banshee, it’s safe to assume he had begun the process of becoming a man in the clan. I don’t know if he had done his dream hunt so i just said he had🤷‍♀️yeah this took so long because I did a chunk of words every few days💀 anyways until next time, bye :p

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ena-113 · 9 months

Text

A human crewmate, Mia, held a long thin box. It seemed to have paper and plastic peices inside, based on the sound. A puzzle perhaps? A few other crewmates trailed behind them.

"Hey Bob! Wanna join us? We're playing Clue, it's a board game from earth."

Bob nodded and joined the others trailing after Mia. He had no idea what a 'board game' was, but it seemed fun. They eventually all gathered around a table in the cafeteria.

"Okay, so it's a murder mystery and we have to figure out who killed Mr. Body. We're all possible suspe-" Mia started to set up the board and explain, but was cut off by Jli'yan.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but why do humans have a game centered on murder and distrust?"

"Cause it's fun, thrilling. Good for poker face practice." Kaya answered, shuffling cards. They then nodded towards Mia to continue explaining.

♤♡♧◇

#I was originally gonna do monopoly #but decided against it #clue is more fun #nonlinear narrative #not beta read #humans are space orcs #humans are space badgers #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humans are confusing #humans are space australians #humans are insane #humans are space raccoons #humans are space capybaras #humans are space fae #board games #game night #not beta'd

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lunapegasus · 1 year

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Redraw of my team dark figures 💥🌴

#multicolor eyed shadow beta'd by discord vc chat lmao #i spent... so long on this #it also had 115 layers deadass lol. also she's not missing her wings what are you talking about. that'd be crazy. anyway.#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #team dark #sth #sonic #my art <3 #i was gonna post this days ago but I been sicky with da flu #pity me /j

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shadowtriovibes · 1 year

Text

take my hand

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, references to consensual sex between minors, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex

Summary: Ominis lets you know he’s ready to go all the way with you, and you quickly realize he likes being told what to do (a.k.a. my “sub-inis” response fic to #dominis)

"That should work, right?" you murmur, stepping closer to him so you can unsubtly press your chest against his and drape your arms around his shoulders. "I know you’re clever, Ominis. I can tell you how to touch me, and you’ll do it?" "Yes," he breathes, quickly stealing a kiss and letting his hands shift all the way down to the curves of your ass. He’ll have to learn by touch, you think. Or maybe even by taste. You have absolutely no problem with that.

Ominis Gaunt is simply going to drive you mad.

For several happy, lovely months you've called the young man your classmates jokingly referred to as “Slytherin’s most eligible bachelor” your love. You’ve kissed his plush lips, memorized the sharp lines of his cheekbones with the tips of your fingers, and even draped your legs across his lap while you curled up together in a secluded corner of the Slytherin common room to study.

…Actually study, of course. Because, unfortunately, he’s kind of a tease.

In fact, the real reason he’d garnered his cheeky nickname? Not one of the girls in your year had gotten anywhere near Ominis’ bed, which, by your seventh year at Hogwarts, was admittedly uncommon.

Even when you started bringing him to the Room of Requirement for some additional privacy, hoping to tempt him into some of those intimacies you know he’s never experienced with anyone else, he’s been a perfect gentleman.

Sure, by now you’ve spent many wonderful nights tangled in the sheets with him, kissing him breathless and letting your hands roam as far as you can get away with. But Ominis wants to “take things slowly,” and you respect that.

(You’re slowly going feral over it, but you respect it.)

He takes you completely by surprise one evening when he tells you that he’s finally ready to go further with you. However, when you sit on the edge of your bed with him and ask him to clarify what that means, he balks.

“Whatever you’d like to do,” he insists, noncommittal. “I’m ready.”

“Ominis,” you say gently. “I do think we should talk about this, so we can both be comfortable.”

He bristles. “‘Both?’ You mean me.”

You bite your lip. It’s true that you are significantly more experienced than Ominis, though it’s not something you’ve talked about in great detail with him. You know that you’re his first everything, that he’d abstained from any sort of physical relationship with anyone thus far because he genuinely wanted to be in love with his partner.

You, however, had pretty much done the opposite after the residual trauma of your fifth year left you with a mindset of “you only live once.” You became more and more selective after you eventually realized that, while occasionally fun, meaningless sex didn’t make you feel better about what had happened. The only thing that did was talking about it with Ominis, which is one of several reasons you fell hopelessly in love with him.

“I mean us both,” you insist. “Just because I’ve had sex before doesn’t mean I want to rush into anything either. This is important. You are important, love.”

He softens a bit when you lace your fingers with his, tugging his hand into your lap.

“I just… I don’t know how to talk about this,” he forces out. “And not because I’m posh or repressed or anything like that, but simply because I fear I don’t know what I need to know.”

“What you need to know?” you ask curiously.

“Truthfully, most of what I’ve ever heard about sex is from the other seventh-years,” Ominis admits. “It’s not like I could have those kinds of conversations with my parents, what with the way they are. I suppose if there’s anyone I could have asked, it would be Sebastian.”

You wince a little and Ominis laughs softly, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“Don’t worry, I’m not intimidated by the two of you,” he murmurs.

You and Sebastian had been “friends with benefits” (as he’d delightedly called it) toward the end of your sixth year, and thank Merlin you’d been able to maintain your friendship after it had ended.

You wouldn’t dare assume just how much Ominis knows about that fiasco, but the real reason it ended was that the two of you were simply too alike in bed – both far too dominant. Every time you came together, it felt like a duel, which was quite fun at first but quickly became exhausting and left neither of you truly satisfied.

“Well, I suppose you could talk with Sebastian,” you agree. “He’s not, er – he’s knowledgeable enough.”

This time Ominis winces, and you pat his hand apologetically.

“You could also just ask me, you know,” you tell him. “We can talk about these things. What we like, what we don’t like, what we want to do together.”

Ominis shifts closer and presses his shoulder against yours, resting his head against the top of yours. “I know. I suppose it’s just… challenging to feel so ignorant.”

“Love,” you sigh. “You aren’t.”

“I am,” he insists ruefully. “But we can… try new things together, right?”

“Of course,” you tell him, dropping his hand so you can stand between his legs and cradle his chin in your hands to pull him in for a kiss. “As long as you’re sure you’re ready.”

“Very ready,” he murmurs, resting his hands on your waist and dragging them down to your hips, more adventurous than he usually allows himself to be.

“Besides, it’s not as if you know nothing,” you tease him. “I’m sure you know how to make yourself feel good, right?”

Ominis goes red and doesn’t offer an answer, but you don’t need one to know that you’re correct.

“I can show you how I make myself feel good.”

It only falls a little flat when Ominis pointedly asks, “‘Show’ me how?”

It’s only then that you realize Ominis had a fair reason to be nervous. He probably has much less familiarity with the female body than many of his Hogwarts classmates would have had, from studying nude forms in classical Muggle art to the risque illustrations and photographs his male counterparts pour over in secret.

He would have been excluded.

“Right, er…” you mumble, thinking on your feet. “Maybe I could… tell you what I like, and you could do it for me?”

“Do it for you?” he asks, and you blink surprisedly when you realize he doesn’t sound annoyed at all with being tasked with your pleasure.

Honestly, he sounds quite interested.

“That should work, right?” you murmur, stepping closer to him so you can unsubtly press your chest against his and drape your arms around his shoulders. “I know you’re clever, Ominis. I can tell you how to touch me, and you’ll do it?”

“Yes,” he breathes, quickly stealing a kiss and letting his hands shift all the way down to the curves of your ass.

He’ll have to learn by touch, you think. Or maybe even by taste.

You have absolutely no problem with that.

For a while you let him kiss you while his hands roam, letting him refamiliarize himself with the figure he already knows quite well beneath your uniform. Then, while his hands slip underneath your skirt to explore your bare thighs, you strip off your tie, dress shirt and brassiere. He undoubtedly hears the rustling of your clothes as you remove them, but he keeps his hands where they are until you reach down and grab his wrists.

Ominis exhales softly when you press his hands to your breasts, and you hum happily when his fingers flex against your skin.

“Touch me,” you tell him softly. “Not my clothes.”

“You’re beautiful,” he says softly. “You feel… you’re so soft.”

You giggle and arch your back into his hands, and when he drags his thumbs across your nipples, you lean down and press your forehead to his.

“Not too soft,” you counter.

“Can I… may I use my mouth on you?” Ominis asks hesitantly.

Merlin.

You’ve observed that your love certainly has an oral fixation. You suppose it could have to do with his blindness, but it could simply be a part of him like anything else. Ominis has been known to suck on quills for hours while he studies – the sugar quills from Honeydukes and, regrettably, regular ones as well – which has occasionally been distracting to some of your classmates who are driven to less-than-pure thoughts while watching him redden his mouth.

“Yes, use your mouth,” you breathe, tipping your head back when he brings his lips to your skin.

He doesn’t just immediately suck at you like some of your past partners have done in a rush. He kisses you all over – the curves of your breasts, across your collarbones, down to your navel and back up again. He’s learning you, and it’s making your head spin.

“Let’s move on,” you slur after a while, nearly dizzy from how good you feel with your skirt still on.

“May I?” Ominis asks, reaching behind you for the clasp of your skirt.

You assent and he deftly unclasps it, letting your skirt drop to the floor and leaving you in just your undergarments. But before he can tug them down – and he does try – you pause him by grabbing his wrists once more.

“I am nearly naked, and you’re fully dressed,” you remind him. “Seems unfair, love.”

“Fine,” he says with a bright laugh, leaning back onto his elbows to let you tug his tie loose and pull it over his head. You unbutton his shirt deliberately slowly, treating yourself to each new inch of bare skin you reveal as you work your way down.

When you reach the bottom, you can tell he’s quite ready for you by the state of his trousers, and you deduce those need to go as well. His breath hitches when you unbutton and unzip them for him, coaxing him into lifting his hips for you to tug them down.

After that, you both hurriedly tug off your undergarments and toss them… somewhere, to be sure.

He looks like sin sitting before you, completely nude with his long cock hard in his lap.

“Are you going to show me now?” he asks hopefully, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides.

“Mmm, soon,” you murmur. “I think I want you to show me something first.”

“You – you want to see…?” Ominis asks, his eyebrows raised. “But you know what men like, how we…”

“I know how men get themselves off, yes,” you say, finishing the sentence he lets die on his tongue. “I don’t care about what men like. I want to see what you like.”

“I can’t imagine I’m that unique,” he retorts.

“Then show me because I want to watch,” you challenge, gently pushing on his shoulders so he’ll scoot back and let you straddle his thighs. “I’m asking so nicely, Ominis.”

He exhales shakily and rests his hands on your bare hips. “Well, I usually… I usually have something to – Merlin, I have a salve, so it’s not dry.”

“Let me take care of it,” you purr, lifting one of his hands to your mouth and licking across his palm. He nearly chokes, but he lets you wet his hand for him and wrap it around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” you murmur. “Tell me what you think about when you get yourself off.”

“You,” he says quickly. “It’s always you, kissing you, touching you.”

You watch hungrily as he starts to stroke himself, observing the way he drags his thumb across his sensitive head and squeezes firmly at the base.

“Touching me how?” you encourage him.

“I… like this, touching your breasts, your bare skin,” he whispers. His other hand trails from your waist down to the crease of your hip. “Here too.”

“Do it then,” you whine. “Touch me, feel me.”

Finally, with his free hand he reaches between your thighs, tracing two fingertips along your folds. You’re already wet, and he groans softly before cursing under his breath.

“Let me show you,” you whisper, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to guide his hand.

You shift his hand up until his fingertips are pressed to your clit. “This is one of my favorite places to touch when I’m alone,” you tell him, nosing along his cheek. “Just touching here can get me off, actually.”

“R-really?” he breathes. “But what about… inside?”

“Inside, hm?” you croon. “Seems like you aren’t as ignorant as you let me believe.”

Ominis blushes a little and ducks his head, but he quickly tips his sightless gaze back up to you when you trace his fingertips along your slit to your entrance.

“Here,” you breathe. “If you want to go inside, it’s just here.”

“Can I?

“One finger first,” you tell him, and he’s perfectly gentle as he presses his long middle finger into your body.

You press your lips against his cheekbone and murmur, “Tell me how I feel, Ominis.”

“Warm. Wet, so wet,” he groans. His hand on his cock has gone completely still, forgotten in favor of exploring you with his other hand. “And – tight.”

It’s then that you have a brilliant idea.

“What if I let you use your mouth on me here?” you keen when he drags his thumb across your clit with his finger still inside you. “Would you like that?”

“I can do that?” Ominis asks. “You would want me to?”

“If you’re comfortable,” you tell him, gently running your fingers through his hair to loosen it a little from his daily coiffe. “I’d like to try it with you.”

Stunned, he nods and gently pulls out of you so that you can join him on the bed and lie on your back. Carefully, you drape one leg and then the other over his shoulders as he kneels between the apex of your thighs. You cross your ankles behind his back to coax him closer and onto his elbows, his face inches from where you most want him.

“What, er… how should I…” he asks.

“It’s instinct, love,” you croon, leaning back on your elbows and watching as he leans in a bit more, transfixed by how close he is to you. “I couldn’t possibly tell you, I’ve never done it myself.”

“Has anyone ever…?” he asks suggestively, one of his hands wrapping around your thigh.

“Ever what?” you tease him, utterly in love with the way it makes him blush harder.

“Has anyone else ever used their mouth on you?” he asks more firmly, nuzzling his temple against your inner thigh.

“Mmm, no,” you murmur.

He smirks to himself. “So I suppose I needn’t be worried about being compared.”

“Ominis,” you sigh. “I need you to do something, anything. Just try, I promise I’ll tell you if it’s working or not.”

“Please, tell me,” he requests. “I might not… It’s harder to be sure that I’m doing it right, if you’re quiet.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that will be a problem,” you reply cheekily.

Without another word, Ominis leans in and presses his tongue to your skin, licking you open with broad, curious strokes of his tongue while he learns the taste and feel of you. You quickly lose your breath as he explores your drenched core.

You gasp sharply when he presses his tongue against your clit, and he quickly asks, “How does that feel?”

“Amazing,” you breathe. “That’s good, Ominis, right there, keep going.”

Ominis simply lights up after receiving your praise, and it makes your heart race adoringly to see how much he loves this – loves you.

He becomes more and more assured as he presses his tongue against your clit, and even without his sight, he couldn’t possibly miss how your legs tremble helplessly when he moans into your body, the vibrations sending you closer and closer to your climax.

He experiments with pressing his tongue inside you as well, and it feels nice, of course it does. But it’s just not as nice as when he’s paying attention to your clit, so without thinking, you reach down and tug on his blond hair to direct his mouth back to where you want it.

This time, when Ominis moans against your clit, it’s not for your benefit.

“Did you like that?” you ask knowingly, twisting your fingers deeper into his hair. Usually it’s so perfectly coiffed, but you imagine by the time you’re through with him, it might look more like Sebastian’s does after Quidditch practice.

“Yes,” he admits, his voice nearly a whine.

“Good. Make me come and you can tell me how else you’d like me to touch you.”

Desperate to finish you off, Ominis first wraps both hands around your thighs and positively buries his face between them, his tongue flicking over and over against your clit. Then he pulls one hand back and presses the tips of two fingers against your entrance.

“Inside?” he asks quickly.

“Yes,” you grit out. “I’m so close Ominis, don’t stop.”

Obediently, he presses his long, thin fingers inside you and curls them how you tell him to, and you only last another minute under his focused ministrations before you come hard, both hands now tangled in his hair to hold him in place until you’re too sensitive to take anymore.

When you finally push his face away, Ominis looks drunk. His mouth and chin are soaked from your release, his pale skin is burning red and his hair is a wild mess.

“So…” he murmurs, dragging a thumb across his lower lip and briefly sucking it clean. “How was that?”

“Don’t be daft,” you laugh deliriously, still staring up at the ceiling. “You’re a natural, Ominis, you get an Outstanding from me.”

He smiles and rests one of his hands on your bare hip, trailing the other up your waist to your neck so he can lean down and kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

However, despite how formal his countenance often is, he’s still a young man – and not a very patient one.

“I believe you said something about touching me now?” he murmurs, kissing down your chin to your neck and gently nipping at your pulse point.

“Mmm, yes, I do think you deserve a turn,” you agree.

You reach down to wrap your hand around his cock and slowly stroke him, earning a choked-off moan and a much less gentle bite against your neck.

“Which would you like, Ominis? My hand, my mouth, or my cunt?”

Ominis curses under his breath – you can tell he likes it when you’re vulgar, despite how often he chides Sebastian for using similar language around their other mates.

He zones out for a moment, considering, so you stroke him harder to bring his focus back to you. “Tell me, love.”

“Your – your body, I want… I want to be inside you,” he admits. “But I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”

“That’s alright,” you reassure him. “It’s only your first time, we’ll have many more times to practice.”

He whines softly and presses a kiss over the bruise he’s worked into the skin below your jawline. “Many more?”

“Focus,” you tease him. “Let’s enjoy this time first, alright? Are you ready?”

You drop your hand from his cock so he can sit back and line himself up against you, and you think that this must be where some amount of instinct kicks in because the juts of his hip bones line up perfectly with the insides of your thighs without so much as a guiding hand from you.

“Good, Ominis,” you breathe, and his cock jumps, its wet tip tapping against his stomach.

He takes himself in hand and presses the head of his cock against your entrance, tracing a line from your hole to your clit and back to learn just where to press in, and then he starts to sheath himself within you.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, and you beam delightedly – you’ve never heard him talk like that before.

“That’s it, keep going,” you encourage him. “I can take all of you.”

He’s quite long, but he takes his time with you, slowly pressing in until his hips are flush with your thighs and his arms are trembling slightly as he holds himself above you.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks, restraint clear in both his voice and the tense line of his jaw.

You cup your hand against the side of his face and murmur, “Not at all, you feel wonderful.”

“Can I move?” he pleads, and you breathe your yes against his lips.

Even without the muscle memory of a more experienced man, Ominis is a fast learner. He quickly sets a rhythm that has you dragging your hands down his chest and demanding more, harder, faster.

Your heart can barely take it when he simply meets your demands without a word, his hair falling into his eyes as he fucks you like it’s a gift to be inside you.

“I want to make you come again,” he confesses, leaning down to kiss you wherever he can put his mouth on you – your jaw, your shoulder, your lips. “Can I?”

“Yes,” you breathe, because your first orgasm had left you so sensitive you’re sure you can come again before Ominis finishes.

In fact, you think if you asked him, he’d make himself wait for you.

You slide a hand down your body and start to touch yourself, rubbing your clit the way you know you like when you need a release. You want to be quick – you want him to learn how it feels when you come around his cock.

“Close,” he grunts, his hands fisting in the sheets beside you. “Love, please…”

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, leaning up to nip at his lower lip. “Let me come first, Ominis, I promise it’s worth waiting for.”

“I can’t,” he whines, but you know he can – you can see how he’s straining to hold back, his stomach taut and his arms tense beside your head.

“Just a little more, love, and – ah!” you gasp, because when he sits back just a little – as if trying to physically pull back from falling over the edge – his cock presses against a spot inside you that’s just enough to make you see stars.

It’s barely seconds after you come that Ominis groans helplessly and spills inside you, his thrusts coming to a halt when he feels you become impossibly tighter around him.

You stroke your hands lazily up and down his back while he catches his breath, mercifully not dropping his full weight onto you in favor of gently rolling to the side, hooking your leg over his hip.

“What’s the verdict, then?” you ask him softly, tracing your fingertips along his jawline and smiling at the blissful look on his face.

“We’re doing that again, quite literally as soon as I can,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh brightly and bury your face against his chest.

“How charming!” you tease him. “That’s it, hm? Have I finally made a monster of you?”

“Without a doubt,” he agrees, pressing his nose to your hair.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #i know we love dominis but LISTEN #por que no los dos i merely offer an alternative #this is beta'd but nobody's perfect xoxo #experimenting with not using an image bc what would i POSSIBLY put so please don't let this flop

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howdoyousleep3 · 2 months

Note

"Use your words."

Daddy James to Stevie Baby who is being a brat (as per usual) 😈

got real carried away with this one, a lot of ball talk lol, but i've missed the fuck out of them and we deserve this so 💅🏻 also! daddy's pov! that's fun.

word count: 1.7 K notable tags: daddy kink, manhandling, slapping, orgasm denial, blowjob, dirty talk, subspace, multiple orgasms, come marking, nipple play, cockwarming

Steve is in rare form tonight.

When they play like this, when they get wrapped up in one another to the point where the rest of the world and the present warps away, Steve tends to stay in his head. No matter what James puts him and his beautiful body through, Steve remains tethered to the present.

But times like these, times where Steve sinks under and slips from his head, are so few and far between.

And James is fucking feral for it.

They’ve been at it for hours and Steve is still hungry, still eager. James has put his baby through the ringer, made him work and grovel and damn near embarrass himself for what he’s wanted, for what James has wanted. James knows he’ll have to be the one to call it; Steve would run himself into the ground for James.

Sweet boy.

He deserves the fucking world, deserves the sun and the moon and all the disgustingly sweet coffee drinks he can stomach.

Steve deserves whatever the fuck he wants after tonight.

James smacks his heavy cock down onto Steve’s tongue from where he kneels in front of him on the couch, spit flinging from Steve’s open mouth. He moans when James does it again, so noisy. He has been all evening. The noises have flown from his mouth like water, without thought and with desperation. James doesn’t think Steve knows just how loud he’s been, how reactive and how needy he sounds.

It's music to James’ ears.

“How d’you want it?” James rasps, eyes locked onto where Steve loosely suckles at the tip of his cock, slurping and moaning around it as if it’s the best thing his baby’s ever put in his mouth.

“Wan’it,” is all Steve moans, taking more of James into his mouth, spit slipping distractedly down his chin. James can’t help but touch it, transfixed by it. He smears it with his fingers, presses it into the skin of Steve’s jaw, his cheek, goes back for more to spread it around.

It seems he’ll need to be more specific in order to get an answer out of Steve. He tugs at Steve’s hair anyway, gives it a good, sharp yank in an attempt to bring him back from the brink of…

Well, maybe it’s a hopeless situation. Steve is far passed any sort of brink.

“Baby—listen,” he murmurs, smacking at Steve’s cheek rather harshly. “How do you want your Daddy’s come?”

It’s a more specific question, but it’s also a question that sends Steve further under. He whines, the nasally noise turning into a throaty groan as he leans forward on his knees, hands reaching for more of James’ cock. They’re past the point of rules, time and effort and energy leaving them drained and aching, so James doesn’t reprimand Steve for using his hands. He quite likes the feel of Steve fumbling with him in a frenzy, of the added tightness of his fists.

He kicks his hips up into Steve’s grip, his cock up into Steve’s hot mouth.

Fuck, he’s never getting an answer out of his boy.

“Use your fuckin’ words, Steven,” he bites out, laying his hands casually beside him on the couch, slowly losing his patience with the situation before him. Not at Steve, rarely does he genuinely lose his patience with his boy. But he’s ready to come again, is ready to pull Steve back from the depths of his mind, to cradle this sweetness he never so willingly gets to witness.

When Steve whines around a mouthful, when James feels that whine in his balls, he decides one more time.

He reaches for his cock with one hand and Steve’s hair with the other.

“How do you,” James says clearly and slowly, eyes locked with Steve’s glazed ones as he fists his weeping cock in front of Steve’s open mouth. “Want your Daddy’s come?”

Steve slurs out his answer, tilting his head back in an obvious attempt to tighten the hold on his hair, “In my pussy.”

James’ core burns.

“You already got it in that sweet pussy’a yours,” James reminds him, voice as thick as his swelling cock. “Remember? Fucked it into to you an hour ago. Bet it’s still in there, makin’ you all messy. Why don’t you—”

“Fine,” Steve huffs, snaps, and James barely resists the urge to put Steve’s dick under the heel of his dress shoe. “Then come on in.”

The words are slow out of Steve’s mouth, sinful and filthy. Even six feet under the drunken fog of sex Steve knows he’s got his Daddy right where he wants him with that request.

“Come on my pussy, Daddy.”

James doesn’t even need time to come. His fist flies over his cock, his heavy load in his balls at the ready. It’s always ready for Steve, always hot for whenever his boy wants it.

“Then fuckin’ show me, you show me exactly where you want it,” James purrs, lip curling as he watches Steve turn around on his knees eagerly and gracefully. He’s always so goddamn graceful when it comes to sex, eroticism layered in his body and pure existence. It’s why he enjoys being watched so much, why he gets off on eyes on him. Steve is sex.

When he bends at that sinful waist, when his cheek hits the floor and he arches his back, James’ groan is thunderous.

He’ll never tire of this sight, of Steven’s hole, of right where his perfect body works to let his Daddy inside. The proof is right there, right in front of James’ eyes. His pink pussy is slick with his Daddy’s first load, his rim puffy, his hole used, just as it should be. His balls sit prettily between his spread thighs, heavy with the load James has denied him of.

James sucks on his teeth to stop himself from losing focus and leaning down to suck them into his mouth one by one.

Steve’s ass always looks fuckable, the jiggle and fat of his cheeks tempting James every minute of every goddamn day, but there’s nothing compared to the sight that lays before him. And when Steve whines, when he leans his hips back and bounces his ass as if James needs a reminder of his request, James slips to the floor on his knees.

He can’t resist, just a little—

He can feel Steve’s gluttonous groan in his own balls as he slips the fat tip of his cock into Steve’s ass, continuing to stroke himself off. He pulls his hips back, pushes it back in, does it again. And again.

“Fuck, I’ll never get tired’a this. Get back here, get your hands back here. Show me—”

Words tumble from James’ mouth as if he knows what they mean, as if he coherent enough to form demands. But God bless him, Steve knows. With a long whine he brings his hands back to his ass, to each cheek, spreading himself wide before smacking his hands over his own ass, shaking at the handfuls he grabs for.

The feeling of Steve’s ass shaking around his cock nearly makes James see stars.

“Fuck yeah.”

Steve smacks at his ass again, pressing his cheeks together and smushing his ass all around the tip of James’ cock.

“Daddy…come on my pussy, Daddy.”

James’ orgasm rushes through him, builds so quickly he shouts at the intensity of it. He barely has time to pull his cock free from the grip of Steve’s ass before the first hot spurt of come is shooting from his tip. Fucking hell.

Steve moans as if it’s his own orgasm, as if it’s his own set of balls emptying out. Or maybe he moans at the feel of it, at the sensation of his Daddy’s come dirtying him up, running down his taint and dragging down his sac. Or maybe, James thinks, maybe it’s Steve’s feral desire to be claimed in such a primal way, to be so subservient he’s more than willing to accept his Daddy’s come on his body instead of inside.

When James’ climax is complete, when he’s pulled everything he has from himself, he presses the head of his cock back into Steve’s pussy.

James damn near shouts again when Steve immediately clenches down around him, needy and absolutely desperate for more.

“Can never give you enough, always want fuckin’ more,” he huffs out with amusement feigned as annoyance as he watches Steve’s hole pulse and try to suck him further into his greedy body. Unbelievable. He reaches for Steve’s shoulders, pulling him up off the floor and sliding his dick further into Steve’s pussy. Steve’s heavy gasp makes his cock twitch inside of his boy’s body. Also unbelievable.

His hands slip to Steve’s tits, squeezing and pinching as he digs his teeth into the side of Steve’s neck. His hips meet the curve of his luscious ass and even Steve’s moan sounds slurred, James pressing in tight. It’s not impossible, a third orgasm, but it’s off the table for the night. James wants other things from his baby.

That doesn’t stop Steve from trying though, the bastard continuing to milk James dry.

“Come sit on my dick while it goes soft,” James whispers into Steve’s ear, fingers unable to resist the urge to pluck at Steve’s pretty nipples. He doesn’t give Steve the chance to argue or respond, easily pulling them both backwards and up to the couch, Steve in his lap. James can feel the come on his body, the way it bleeds into the fabric of his dress pants. He loves it.

“Never soft for me,” Steve manages to argue anyway, his head lolling back onto James’ shoulder. His fingers go back to pinching at Steven’s nipples, rubbing at them as Steve presses his chest into his Daddy’s touch. The noises he gets are soft, delicate almost, always are when he plays with Steve’s tits. James looks down the line of Steve’s body and sees his dick, angry and leaking, and if he’s not careful Steve could come like this, his Daddy’s hands on his tits.

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, knowing damn well Steve is right. He skates his hands up and down Steve’s entire torso, pinching the tip of Steve’s dick, relishing in the whimper and twitch Steve gives him.

“Whatever you say, kitten.”

#askK #writing prompt #from a while ago lol #daddy james #stevie baby #daddy james and stevie baby #my writing #i did not edit this or have it beta'd or anything this is your warning lol

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33max · 11 days

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for @f1-obsessed333 who in response to this post said how would maxy react if this was a kangaroo stealing his stuffie?

It is as he’s sprinting full pelt after a kangaroo that Daniel realises he would do absolutely anything for Max.

The dust from the dry Australian ground kicks up in small clouds as his feet hit the floor, one after the other, leaving a dust trail behind him. It probably looks like he is running much faster than he actually is, but Daniel only does endurance running in his fitness plan, not short sprints. Nobody could have anticipated he would have to chase a kangaroo across his farm.

He had turned his back on Max for less than a minute while he tried to barbecue them some lunch, and as he threw a couple of juicy burgers onto the grill Max started wailing from where he was sat on the deck. Really wailing, as if something awful had happened. A high-pitched screaming wail.

Daniel had rushed over, thinking the worst, that Max was hurt. But Max didn’t look hurt. He just continued wailing and pointing off to his right at the large expanse of grassland.

“He’s got Thoup!” Max choked out. Thoup is Max’s dinosaur, its actual name is Soup, but that isn’t something that Max can pronounce when he’s this little.

When Daniel looks in the direction that Max is pointing he realises that he is a short grey kangaroo. And he has stolen and hopped off at pace with one of Max’s favourite plushies.

So that’s how Daniel ends up here, running as fast as he can to retrieve Max’s plushie, Soup the Brontosaurs.

“Come back here you bouncing fucker!”

It’s not a conscious decision to tackle the kangaroo, more of a panicked last-ditch attempt to retrieve Soup for Max before the kangaroo outpaced him. But before Daniel knows it he’s jumping, wrapping his arms around the roo, and knocking it to the floor.

The roo, probably not too happy with being tackled, drops the dinosaur plushie and begins kicking its legs and tail at Daniel to get away.

That’s fair, Daniel thinks as he dodges the limbs.

“Okay,” Daniel says, tucking Soup under one arm and then holding both hands up to the kangaroo in surrender. “That’s it, that’s all I wanted, we’re good now.”

Daniel doesn’t turn his back on the kangaroo, he’s not a complete idiot – he waits for the kangaroo to bounce off to a safe distance before he turns to run back to Max.

The look on Max’s face is one Daniel has never seen before. Pure shock. Enthralment. Admiration.

“Here you go, baby,” Daniel says, handing the slightly dusty plushie back to Max.

Max just gapes at him. Mouth wide open. His binkie is long gone, it must have dropped to the floor in the chaos.

“Daddy,” Max says, very slowly. “You got Soup back.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let a kangaroo have him!”

That’s what does it. That’s what dissolves Maxy into giggles.

“Oh fuck, my burgers!” Daniel shouts, remembering what he was doing before the interruption, they’re probably burnt now.

That just makes Maxy giggle harder. Burying his face into Soup’s fat tummy.

#Daniel is literally the best daddy #turkey dinosaurs au #sorry this is an actual mess hahahaha #not edited #not beta'd #writing

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keksalot404 · 1 year

Photo

OMORI doodles: Stolen Jokes Edition (except the last one that’s all my fault <:3)

#Omori #omori omori #basil #basil omori #mari #mari omori #kekart #last pic was techncally beta'd #they never said no to it #stranger #stranger omori #return of clokie :o #sunny #sunny omori #but hes dead ig kek

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jotaroslooseeyebrowhair · 1 year

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(Un)dead beat dad (Chapter 2)

This is a long one, so be prepared :) part 1 chap 3

TW: ref to violence, surgical operations, gore, panic attacks, please tell me anything I missed :)

Alfred feels his personal phone vibrate in his pocket, he stopped dusting the already-clean dresser, lifting the phone to his face knowing that only a select few had his contact information. He stared at the number he had long since memorized for a second before opening the message.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Alfie, I need help

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Is anyone else home right now

No, Master Jason, I’m afraid everyone is on patrol at the moment. :You

May I ask why? :You

XXX-XXX-XXXX: perfect

XXX-XXX-XXXX: could you grab some med supplies and meet me in the Batcave?

Alfred stared at the phone and sighed. Setting down the feather duster he was holding, he walks towards the grandfather clock and enters the Batcave. He feels another vibration in his pocket and reaches for his phone.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: could you not tell B? Or anyone else?

XXX-XXX-XXXX: please?

Of course, Master Jason. I Will have everything ready for you when you get here. :You

XXX-XXX-XXXX: your a lifesaver, Alfie

Unfortunately, I am well aware. :You

Alfred chuckled as he slipped the phone back into his pocket, continuing to gather more medical supplies for Jason. Alfred had finally finished setting up quite literally everything he could, when he heard Jason's bike come into the cave. It turned off and he could hear quick running footsteps toward himself. Alfred turned and walked until he could spot Jason, seeing him in his full red hood regalia (omitting) the mask. What really caught his attention, though, was the child in his arms, looking to be seven at the oldest.

“Oh? You failed to mention we were having a guest.” Alfred said, quickly leading Jason toward the medical supplies. Once he turned the corner into the faux medical room though, he heard the sounds of struggle behind him. Alfred turned around, seeing the small boy thrashing in Jason's arms, trying to get away from the room. Jason immediately turned his back to the door and placed the child on the floor, softly talking to the child, words Alfred could not hear. The room clearly upset the child, so Alfred nearly closed the door, keeping it just barely open, but closed enough that the boy couldn’t see inside.

Jason turned around and motioned to Alfred, “This, Danny, Is my grandfather I mentioned. His name is Alfred, he patches me up whenever I get hurt a little too bad.” The small boy had tear tracks on his eyes and darted them towards Alfred, scanning him, threat assessing. The boy was scared. Alfred put on his nicest smile and lowered himself to his knees like his grandson.

“Indeed. I have had to patch up the young master quite a few times. I have patched up others as well. I assume The young master brought you to me for medical attention?” Alfred said in a soft voice, he didn’t wish to scare the child after all. The boy simply nodded his head and scanned the rest of the cave. The boy looked at Jason and pursed his lips. “You clearly need attention but are unwilling to go into the medical bay. Would you prefer I tend to your wounds out here in the main cave instead?”

The boy looked to Jason, searching Jason's eyes. After seemingly finding what he was searching for, he turned his head back towards Alfred. Still gripping tightly onto Jason's shirt, the boy nodded his head. Jason turned his head slightly towards Alfred and smiled. Jason looked back down at the boy and smiled, talking to him softly again.

“Alfred's going to have to assess your injuries if that's okay with you? So he knows what to grab and what to leave?” Jason said in a soft voice. The boy stared at Alfred again for a moment, Alfred felt like something was staring at him. Judging him. Deciding whether he should live or die. Deciding whether he would spend eternity suffering or in paradise. Then suddenly, as if it was never there in the first place, the feeling was gone. Alfred simply smiled and got to his feet once again, slowly walking towards the two in front of him under the young boy's gaze. Alfred stopped just beside Jason and lowered himself to the floor again.

“Now, could I get a name, young sir?” Alfred said with a smile, internally frowning at the ever-growing stain of blood on the boy's shirt that was several sizes too big. The boy looked at the ground for a moment, glancing back at Jason for a moment once more before muttering under his breath, his voice so scratchy and quiet you can't hear him. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Alfred said to the young boy.

The boy thought for a second, then lifted one of his hands and shakily signed out some letters. ‘D. A. N. N. Y.’ It was clear the boy hadn’t used sign much but knew enough to communicate. The other hand still tightly wound inside Jason's jacket.

Alfred smiled at him, “Alright then Master Danny, would it be alright if I removed your shirt and assessed your wounds?” The boy took a careful step back and looked at Jason again, tightening his hold on the masked man. Jason placed a careful hand on the kid's back and smiled.

“I’ll be right here Danny, okay? And if you want to take a minute then we can stop and wait. We just want to make sure that you’re okay.” Jason said in a soft voice again. The boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He nodded and laid down on the ground on his back, tugging on Jason’s jacket and clenching his other hand tightly. Danny let out a small pained breath and stuck his empty arm up above his head. Alfred carefully lifted the boy's shirt from him, letting out a gasp as he saw what was causing all the blood, Jason's eyes flashing a violent green. The boy underneath him flinched at the gasp and opened his eyes, scanning the two adults above him in panic, letting go of Jason and using his legs to scoot himself back, one of his arms pushing him faster backward, the other holding his organs in. Danny’s breathing picked up as his pupils dilated, the temperature in the cave decreasing rapidly as frost formed underneath him.

Alfred was the one to recover first, lowering himself further and turning his hands up, showing he wasn’t a threat. He let a small smile on his face, speaking softly to the child in front of him, “It’s perfectly alright Master Danny. I apologize for reacting as I did, I was a little shocked. I mean no harm and simply want to help you,” Alfred said with a smile.

Jason recovered next, seeing the scared child in front of him. Jason had closed his eyes while Alfred was talking to calm himself down. Jason looked at the kid in front of him, “It’s okay Danny, I promise you we won't hurt you,” Jason said with a smile. The boy in front of him was still rapidly breathing, and Jason thought about what he had learned in (elephant??) and looked at the boy again. “Okay, Danny, You’re having a panic attack and we’re gonna need you to calm down, right? Can you tell me five things you can see?”

Danny looked like he was barely registering the words, Jason thought the boy wasn’t able to hear him until the boy’s eyes flipped around the cave, focusing on each thing for a second before flipping to the next. Jason. Alfred. Shirt. Bat. Floor. Jason smiled at the boy.

“Alright Danny, next, four things you can feel.” Jason said with a smile, scooting closer to Danny.

Danny had moved one of his arms, feeling around him. Floor. Pants. Hair. Blood.

“You’re doing amazing Danny, next, three things you can hear.” Jason scooted closer again.

Danny closed his eyes, focusing. Bats. Jason's Heartbeat. Computer beeping.

“Fantastic Danny, Two things you can smell.” Jason closed the distance but sat just to the side of Danny.

Danny kept his eyes closed but took a shaky breath, still recovering from the heavy breathing. Wet cave. Sweat.

“Good job Danny, now finally, one thing you can taste.” Jason carefully placed a hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny flinched but it wasn’t as hard as it had been.

Danny took a second and bit down. Blood.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Jason, nodding his shaking head. Jason smiled down at him.

“It’s okay Danny. We don’t judge you and we won’t hurt you, I promise.” Jason told Danny. The small boy, however, still looked nervous, ready to bolt at the nearest sign of a threat. Jason glanced at Alfred and sighed. Jason reached down and pulled up his shirt, staring at Danny, “you know how I said Alfred helps me? He really does patch me up.” Jason lied, motioning to the large Y-shaped scar on his chest. Danny visibly relaxed, he was still definitely on edge, but hey, progress. Jason looked at the boy in front of him. “Would it be alright if we patched you up now?”

Danny looked at Alfred and nervously nodded his head.

“Master Danny, It seems I’ll have to sew you up. Do you know your tolerance for anesthesia?” Alfred calmly asked the boy.

Danny nodded his head ‘yes’, but stopped for a moment. He shook his head ‘no’ and slowly signed with his free hand, ‘doesn’t work.’

“They don’t work on you?” Alfred asked Danny, who only shook his head again, “Do you know why, Master Danny?” Danny seemed to open his mouth for a moment, then nodded his head, glancing at the floor.

Jason took a moment to feel the temperature of the room around him. He straightened with a realization. The temperature drops. The green-red mixed blood. The stranger in his apartment. The boy agreeing to being a king. The vivisection dissection scar “Go on and get the stuff Alfie, I’ll hang back,” Jason smiled.

Alfred seemed to think for a split second, then stood up with a grunt and nodded his head. “As you wish, Master Jason.” Alfred said, walking towards the medical room.

Jason turned towards the small boy next to him, gently pushing the boy back onto the floor, taking off his jacket and folding it, placing it behind the kid's head. “You're a meta, aren’t you kid,” Jason said with a smile. Danny immediately stiffened and looked at Jason, his eyes flashing into slits for a moment, lip curling to show off the boy's sharp fangs.

Jason smiled sadly and flipped his hands up, showing he had no weapon, “I don’t have anything against meta’s okay? My brother’s a meta himself, and I’ve been on some great teams with them. I promise you Alfie doesn’t care either, and it won’t make us treat you any differently. You need help, that’s the focus here.” the boy visibly relaxed, still tense but not as much. At that moment Alfred walked out and towards them again.

“Alright Master Danny, First I must clean the wound and around it so I may see what I am doing.” Alfred said, clearly saying what he is doing before doing it so Danny would be less freaked out.

Above him, Jason grabbed Danny's hand, squeezing it lightly once. Danny squeezed back.

Alfred crouched down again, taking a wet rag from the bowl of water previously in his hands. He wrung out the towel and looked at Danny’s eyes for confirmation before carefully wiping Danny's chest. Alfred and Jason’s anger grew with every injury hidden by the blood, though Alfred was better at hiding it. Whenever Alfred got especially close to the bleeding dripping skin flaps, Danny squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Jason’s hand tighter. Alfred had to change the water in the bowl a few times, a horrible brown from the mixing of the green and red covering Danny.

Eventually, it was time for the stitches, but before he could get to that, he needed to staple the wound shut.

“Young master Danny, You are a meta, yes?” Alfred asked in a soft voice. Danny nervously nodded his head ‘yes’. “Alright then. Some meta’s cant use anesthetics, are you one of them?” Danny nodded again, “So I’m afraid I’ll have to stitch you up as-is, though first I will have to staple the wound shut.” another (albeit shaky) nod.

Alfred stood and grabbed a weird white tool from the medical room. He sat down on his knees and pinched Danny's skin together, glancing at Danny, “This will hurt, but I will takeit out once I get to stitches.” Alfred lowered the machine and squeezed the handle, a medical staple sliding through Danny’s skin and pulling it closed. Danny whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and gabbing Jason's hand tighter. Jason placed his free hand on Danny’s shoulder in a comforting motion. Alfred lifted the machine once more and placed it at another section of the large messy cut on Danny’s chest, squeezing again. And again. And again, going up and pulling the skin together. Finally, when he was finished, Salty tears had formed On Danny’s face, rolling down into little puddles on the floor of the Batcave. Alfred sighed and placed the machine on a tray he grabbed earlier from the medical room. Alfred lifted a small white package and ripped it open, pulling the sutures from the small bag. Alfred pulled open another package containing a needle and started to thread the needle then stopped when Danny tugged on Alfred's sleeve, gaining the man's attention.

“Yes, young master Danny?” Alfred asked, stalling in his movements.

Danny lifted his hand and pointed to the thread, signing ‘Won’t work’. Alfred looked at him questioningly, Danny slowly pulled his hand away from Jason and reached into the pocket too far down his leg, and pulled out a spool of… Fishing line.

“Fishing line?” Jason asked, confused.

Danny flushed, his hand's stilling as he thought up an excuse ‘will work’ Danny gestured to the line and pushed it towards Alfred, who took it happily.

“Ah, I see. Well then, I’ll get started right away, please alert me if anything is wrong.” Alfred smiled and sat himself down more comfortably on the floor of the Batcave. He laced the thread through the needle and placed it above the cuts, starting at Danny’s left collarbone. He looked up at Danny and caught his eyes.

Jason seemed to catch on, and nudged Danny slightly with his hand, silently holding it palm-up, Danny quickly grabbed it and lightly squeezed. Jason squeezed back. Alfred placed another machine in Jason’s free hand. “Use this to remove the staples as I stitch Danny’s chest closed.” Jason gulped, nodding. Jason carefully removed the first staple and the boy on the ground squeezed Jason's hand again, whimpering once more. Jason's heart lurches and the grip on his hand tightened. Jason looked away from the boy's face again and saw the needle in Danny’s chest. Jason dropped the used staple onto a small metal platter and brought the machine back up to Danny's chest, preparing to take out the next staple. Danny squeezed Jason's hand tight again with every staple removed, and with every stitch added. Really tight. Fuck. Jason might need to wrap his hand. This kid is definitely a meta. Alfred got down to the intersection of the three large cuts, he glanced up at Danny to check if he was okay, and Alfred's heart squeezed at the sight. The boy had his eyes screwed tightly shut and tears leaking out of them, whimpering at the pain. Alfred had to go faster. He started stitching from the start of the cut at the bottom of Danny's sternum, barely above his belly button, Jason taking out staples as they went up. This part seemed to be especially sensitive, Danny squeezing Jason's hand a bit tighter, and Jason swears he can feel his bones grinding but he won’t say anything. No, he can’t, not when the kid needs someone to be strong.

Alfred gets back to the top and lets out a sigh, tying off the suture. “Young Danny, I need to move to your other side in order to finish your stitches. If I may, Master Hood?” Alfred asked, looking at Jason. Jason needed a moment to think, before he stumbled, standing up and walking to Danny's other side. Danny was still holding Jason's hand tightly, and only let go when Jason grabbed Danny’s free one. Jason and Alfred sat down once more.

“Only one more set of stitches, okay kid?” Jason said in a soft voice, smiling down at the kid next to him. The kid nodded his head shakily. Alfred inserted the needle again and Danny let out a shaky breath, more salty glowing tears silently flowing down his face. The silence was thick as ever, only the occasional breath sucked in from Danny when the stitches hit an overly sensitive spot. Alfred finally finished, tying off the last of the stitches, when Jason got an idea.

“You said that everyone else was on patrol, right?” Jason asked, looking up towards Alfred again.

“Yes, master Hood. Everyone else is gone at the moment. Why do you ask?” Alfred questioned.

“I have an idea. Tell Dam- uh, Robin I’ll pay him back. Hey kid, will you be okay with Alfie if I run upstairs for a minute and grab something?” Jason looked to the child.

Danny glanced at Alfred and nodded. Jason moved to get up but Danny tugged him back down gently.

“I’ll be back right away, Danny, okay?” Jason asked. Danny looked nervous. Jason squeezed Danny’s hand slightly. Danny squeezed back. Jason flashed Danny a small smile and stood again, walking towards the entrance to the mansion, glancing back at Danny every few seconds.

“Well, master Danny, I have two more things to do to help speed up the healing process. I need to add a drain for the excess fluid your body produces and a vacuum pump to help your wound heal faster, the pump will also prevent you from picking at your wound.” Alfred smiled, “First, I will add the drain sponge,” Alfred spoke as he worked, clearly saying what he was doing as to not alarm the boy while Jason was gone. “Then, I will add surgical tape on top and connect the tube. This will run to a small vacuum to suction up any of the excess fluids your body doesn't need.”

Danny clutched tightly onto his pants, counting in his head, happy that Alfred was saying everything aloud. Danny could feel the devices being added to him as Alfred spoke, so Danny didn’t need to worry much. Alfred finished with that and sat back.

“Okay master Danny, one last thing, a drain. This will remove some blood and other fluids from the inside. All I need to do is make a small incision-” Alfred was cut off by Danny’s eyes snapping open, wide and glowing Lazarus green. Danny started to sit up in a panic, groaning at the pain but nonetheless pushing himself backward again. “Master Danny, it is nothing to worry about, I assure you everything will be okay-” Alfred was cut off once again, this time by the sound of something hitting the floor. Jason was standing there, small-sized clothes at his feet as he stared at the Lazarus green eyes of the kid in front of him. A small “fuck” Made it’s way out of Jason as he stood there. Danny saw the look at started scrambling to get further back, knocking over various tools and materials as he did so, nearing the edge.

“Kid- Danny, hey, it’s okay. Everything going to be fine.” Jason soothed, crouching down.

The boy sat his weight on his elbows as he looked furiously between the two adults in front of him. He tried to speak but only a wheezed cough of air came out, making him curl in on himself. Jason thought for a moment, then had an idea. A stupid, idiotic, dumbassed Idea, but an idea nonetheless. Jason furrowed his eyebrows together and thought about Batman. About the joker. About the rogues. About his mother. About who hurt the boy. About who hurt Danny and left him to rot. Jason’s eyes flashed a violent green while the boy was looking his way. Danny visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar green.

“What’s got you so worked up, kid?” Jason asked with an eerie calm in his voice, the green fading slowly. Danny looked nervous, scared even, directing his attention back at Alfred.

“The young master panicked when I mentioned adding a drainage tube to his wound. Specifically the,” Alfred lowered his voice and faced Jason, “Specifically the cutting part of the insertion.”

Jason made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth and grabbed the clothes at his feet.

“Well, Danny, I’ll be right here with you while you get the tube. And, you’ll get to see the clothes I brought once we’re finished with the tube.” Jason sat down next to Alfred.

‘Hurt? Again?’ Danny signed with wide eyes

Jason let out a soft sigh, “Yeah, it's gonna hurt, but if we don’t do this you could get hurt more in the long term. I promise you, Danny, I’ll be here with you the entire time.” Jason smiled at the boy.

Danny looked between Jason and Alfred for a moment before slowly nodding and starting to scoot closer to the two. Jason stands up and carefully picks up Danny, walking him back to Alfred. Alfred let out a small exasperated sigh and smiled at the small boy.

“This will be fast, master Danny, no need to worry. The incision is barely 5 mm wide, very small,” Alfred said with a smile. He grabbed an anti-septic wipe and started wiping down a small portion of Danny’s abdomen, as Danny lifted an open palm towards Jason again. Jason happily took Danny’s hand.

Alfred placed a piece of the tube into Jason's free hand and picked up a scalpel and held it above Danny’s stomach, clanging up to see Danny staring hard at Jason, squeezing his hand tightly. Alfred placed his hand on Danny's stomach to prepare him and lowered the scalpel into Danny's skin. Danny let out a deep drawn-out wine from his core and clenched his eyes tightly, squeezing Jason's hand again. Alfred let out a sad sigh and dragged the scalpel, just barely, and then lifted it away from the small cut. He set the scalpel back down on the tray, grabbing the tubing from Jason’s hand. Alfred inserted the tubing and slid it through until it was at the right spot, then grabbed a new needle and added more of the fishing line to it. He sewed the tubing into Danny's skin and attached a small bulb-looking plastic piece to the end. He sighed and looked up toward Danny to find more glowing tears running down Danny’s face, his lip tainted with red, Danny must have bit his lip when Alfred was inserting the tube.

“That is all, master Danny. I just need to wrap your chest in gauze, and then you will be finished.” Alfred said with a small smile. Danny sharply nodded his head, eyes still screwed shut. Alfred sighed, turning to Jason, “Could you lift up master Danny while I wrap his chest? I don’t wish to strain him.”

Jason nodded his head, scooting around behind Danny and placing his hands below Danny's back, slowly lifting him up and placing the young boy’s torso on his lap. Jason looked down at the small boy, really looking at him. Jason motioned for Alfred to hand him one of the cleansing wipes from the tray Alfred had brought out earlier. Alfred handed it to him, and Jason started wiping away the dirt and blood on Danny’s face. The boy beneath him visibly relaxed when he realized it was Jason who was wiping his face. Jason carefully wiped down Danny’s face, noticing when Danny had flinched and to be careful around the boy's eyes and mouth. It took Jason three wipes when he finally got Danny’s face fully cleaned off. Jason had stilled once he finished. The boy looked just like a younger version of himself. The boy had slightly sunken-in cheeks, cuts and scrapes all over his face, and that look of pure desperation that etched itself into Jason’s bones years ago. It was right then, no definitely not earlier when the boy searched Jason's soul with his eyes and deemed Jason safe Jason realized this boy couldn’t, wouldn’t, go back to where he was before.

“Master Jason,” Alfred gained Jason's attention and that's when Jason realized that Alfred had somehow finished the gauze wrap around Danny’s chest. Danny opened his eyes, showing Jason the icy blue Jason saw in his own eyes. Jason sucked in a breath and looked up at Alfred, “A word, if I may?” Jason looked down at Danny for approval, and then slowly stood up, making sure Danny was comfortable on the ground. Jason walked around the corner out of sight of Danny and looked at Alfred.

“What's up, Alfie?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know where you found the boy, master Jason, but he cannot go back.” Alfred said in a stern voice Jason only heard when one of the family came home with an especially bad wound. Jason was angered at that comment, though.

“I know that Alfred. Obviously, no matter where he came from he isn’t going back.” Jason said in a huff of anger. He ran his hand through his hair and looked to the floor, each of them standing there in silence, until Alfred brought forth an idea.

“Maybe, master Bruce can take care of master Danny until further notice?” Alfred asked.

Jason's head snapped up, “Absolutely not,” Jason snapped, “I will be taking care of Danny.”

“Master Jason,” Alfred started

“No, Alfred. I found the boy, I brought him here,” Jason said quickly, Alfred stood there looking as if Jason had cut him off. He had. Yet Jason continued, “I’m the one that sat by him while you stitched him up, I’m the one that held his hand while he cried, and I will be the one to take care of him.” Jason finished.

Alfred waited for a moment while Jason calmed down, “I was hoping you would say that master Jason. I fully support this decision, as it seems he has decided to trust you and you have already formed an attachment to him.”

“Oh…” Jason stood there for a moment, face flushed red with embarrassment, “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that Alfie,”

“No need to apologize master Jason. Protecting yourself and your child is what makes a good parent.” Jason bluescreened at the word parent, “Now, master Jason, I suggest you get your son into his new clothes and get him home. Shall we?” Alfred smiled as he turned Jason around and pushed him back to where the child was.

Key word: was.

Alfred and Jason immediately rushed forward, frantically looking around for where to find the boy, where could he have gone in such a short amount of time? They both rushed around, desperately trying to find the boy that was in the middle of the floor just moments ago. They each took off in different directions, searching for him. Jason was the one to find him, though. He was sitting against the display case of Jason's former robin costume. Jason walked closer to get a better look and saw the boy was falling asleep, fading in and out of consciousness. Jason walked closer to the boy and sat down in front of Danny, and in front of his old Robin costume. Jason cleared his throat, and said the boy's name, waking Danny.

“Hey Danny, what are you doing here? At this case?” Jason asked, nervous.

Danny looked at Jason sleepily, and opened his mouth to speak, but croaked out empty words instead. He furrowed his brows and lifted up his hands to sign, ‘familiar’.

Jason chuckled, “Yeah, pretty familiar to me too.” Danny smiled “Do you mind if I pick you up and bring you back to where we were before? I have some clothes more your size,” Jason said, Danny sleepily nodded his head and held his arms out. Jason chuckled and kneeled down, picking up Danny beneath his knees and shoulders in a bridal carry.

Jason make his way back to where they were, seeing Alfred on his way, blushing when Alfred smiled sweetly at him. He wasn’t a dad! He just found a kid in need, and is taking care of him! There's nothing else going on, the kid is just under Jason's supervision until Jason can find a better place for him! No adoption going on here, no sir.

“Hey Danny, I grabbed these, they’ll still be a bit big on you but they’ll be better than the clothes you're wearing right now,” Jason said, bending down to grab the clothes with one of his hands, walking towards the bathroom Bruce built in the Batcave for when he went on one of his ‘staying down in the cave for three days straight’ escapades. Jason walked in and closed the door behind them, placing Danny down on the clean floors.

“Hey kid I'm gonna change your clothes real fast, okay?” Jason asked, the kid sleepily nodded at Jason, still seconds away from falling asleep. Jason huffed out a laugh and unfolded the clothes the grabbed from Damian's room, the smallest he could find. Jason quickly switched out Danny’s clothes, careful to not disturb the bandages and other tubes sticking out of Danny’s chest and stomach. Jason grabbed Danny's old bloody clothes and tossed them into the trash, walking out of the bathroom with Danny carefully placed on his hip. Alfred approached Jason and Danny.

“Ready to go so soon, master Jason?” Alfred said with a smile.

“Yeah, I think we are. By the way Alfred,” Jason stared at Alfred with an intense shine in his eye, “Not a word, of this to B.”

Alfred chuckled, “Yes, of course, master Jason. Young master Danny is a secret safe with me. However, If master Bruce figures it out on his own, I will not lie to him.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you Alfred,” Jason said with a smile, then he thought for a second, “Well I would, but I would never expect you to uphold it.”

Alfred chuckled, “Of course. And, remember to change master Danny’s bandages daily, clean the tubes for his drainers, and massage his legs about every hour or so to make sure he doesn't lose circulation. Master Danny should make a full recovery in about 8 weeks. I am positive you will be able to care for him in that time.” Alfred said with a smile.

Jason smiled back at Alfred, walking over to his motorcycle. He stepped over the back and sat Danny in front of him, tucked tightly into his chest as he started his bike. Jason turned around and smiled at Alfred once more, and started the slow, careful ride back to his apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How we feelin my roaches? Sorry for the late chapter but i passed all my classes! also happy holidays, the next chapter might be delayed too cause my grandma died two hours ago, but know the next chapter is being written! Anyways I hope you all cried <3

Tag list: @starkcravingmad @terzatheunderscorerima @sunsetdew0101 @onyxlightdragon @ace-aro-agender @roseinbloom02 @aikoiya @blacksea21090 @the-legal-shipper @paperlicense687 @cursedchaosboys @corfinnsunrise @ascetic-orange @eonic @frostedthroughghost @readerkayden @reach-for-the-horizon @xno-more-smilesx @undead-essence @bluebeariis @chaoticchange @cloudminder @meep52 @may-rbi @kyrianclawraith @thefanficcup@justwannaseesomebrozawa @pastalavistamf @dodekakophonie @seraphinedemort @seraphichana @keegan-parker @mimilikey @im-da-bronx @asrielstars @sweet-itachi-lovin @09shell-sea09 @tinybrie @wolfeyedwitch @lilac-lanedy @ashenfairytale @thelitteralestmood @mady-is-ace-trash @crazylittlemunchkin @idontwhatonamemyself @skulld3mort-1fan @lazy-bouqet @emeraudesfateandfandoms @ae-vixrose @lesling123 @arandomturd @blacksea21090 @enderglace@icedbluesoul @nerdypaintbrush @suppengott @always-be-a-stranger

Ao3 link

Edit: there is a link to the next chapter at the top of this post so you can keep reading :)

#so fucking excited for you guys to read the next chap #this was actually supposed to be a lot longer #i still had ten more bulletpoints to touch on but that will be for next time #danny phantom #dc x dp #jason todd #dp x dc #dp au #danny fenton #dpxdc #ghost king danny phantom #red hood #dp x dc crossover #i sincerely hope you all cried today #sorry for the spelling mistakes nobody beta'd #no beta we die like danny #no beta we die like jason #(un)dead beat dad au

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cas-backwards-tie · 4 months

Text

Under The Moonlight

Vladimir Makarov x Reader

Summary: You think the Commander hates your taste in music. Why is he so judgmental about what you listen to in your free time? Turns out... maybe you were caught up on the wrong thing.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: (Vlad should probably be a warning in of itself), Passive-Aggressiveness? , Spying, Grabbing,

A/N: Ugh... I love (and hate) this song bc it gets stuck in my head so easily and it gives me such fantasy vibes. I can't help but imagine wedding vibes and him with this song every listen. btw put two diff versions in links bc those are 2/3 that I have and listen to.

"You know Arabic?" He'd asked. The first time he'd stumbled upon you listening to the song, more than curious when you'd also been singing along. With a shake of your head and a slight smile of embarrassment simultaneously dusting your cheeks with blush, this only makes his eyebrows furrow. "Then how do you know the words?"

The laugh that tumbles past your lips does nothing but further turn up the heat on the already boiling frustration and inconsequential meltdown that will no doubt later take place. "By listening to it," you answer, an inkling of a smile returning in spite of his fury, "over, and over... and over again."

With an annoyed puff of breath you know he's done with you, about to make his leave. "Why?" You ask. For once, you've swapped places as your curious eyes seek out his form.

"Because it would be useful information to know." Ever the cryptic, of course that's all he leaves you with before turning his back to you, arms crossed over his chest as he exits the room.

The second time he hears the song, he's in between meetings. It's one of those rare days where he has a little free time, not that he knows how to spend that sort of thing anymore. Having entered the library, he can hear the radio playing the Arabic song once more. Your voice joins it, again, and Vladimir finds himself subtly eyeing his surroundings as the corners of his lips twitch, tugging at a smile.

He schools himself, able to keep himself in line. While the bookshelves keep him out of view and no one's in the vicinity, he quietly strolls through the stacks, hand grazing the many novels. It seems that now you've been here longer, you're starting to get more comfortable. Even if your voice isn't the loudest, the quiet nature of a library certainly doesn't help as it carries your voice, he's sure, outdoors to the nearby stationed guards.

Once he's around the nearest bookshelf, he peeks far enough just to see your visage. From this, alone, can he paint a picture. Hand still on the page, he imagines you'd been reading, the radio on quietly as background noise, no doubt something you've continued to use since you've yet to get used to the quietness his climate provides. Thus, the radios around the Compound offer solace. He's noticed you around them often. In your focus amidst the book, you'd been distracted by the song, a familiar tune on the radio beckoning your attention. Of course, not being one to resist temptation, you couldn't resist turning it up and singing along.

He can't deny you're awful. Otherwise, he'd probably have to shoot you. It'd grow to be a nuisance, really... and dangerous, a warning signal no doubt. Yet, there's an innocence about you when you sing. Mocha-colored eyes roam your features as he watches, mesmerized, your eyes closed, as your upper body moves to the music from your chair. The smile that graces your lips is one to remember, and it's one that has him equally awed, and yet... in amusement.

"You really don't understand?" With a swift turn, Vladimir reveals himself from the bookshelves, his hands clasped behind his back casually. The gasp and jump that he'd elicited from you does nothing more than garner a chuckle from him.

"Why do you care?" You ask, hand still resting on your heart as you attempt to catch your breath. Staring at him with wild eyes, it boggles you, the way you feel like he's asked you this before. It takes a moment, as it's been at least a month or so, but you remember that he has. He's asking again. "It's not like you know," you tease, poking him back. If there's anything you'd learned early on, and he'd learned about you... it's that you love to play with Vladimir by matching fire with fire. And, equally, he too, loves to do so.

"Actually, I do, любимая," he quips. With slow and calculated steps he begins approaching the table, eyes raking over you once and then twice. "and I don't! I can assure you. I only find it amusing how you seem more than content to sing something which could mean anything... according to you."

While he stops to close the book atop your hand, inspecting the spine and choice of leisure, you suspect. You place your hand atop his, afraid he's going to take the book. It's only when he meets your gaze briefly, long enough to narrow eyes at you before immediately departing for the door a few feet behind you. "Wait!" You call after him. Turning in your seat, a hand comes up to rest against the bulbous ear of the chair; thudding boots abruptly come to a halt as the Commander stops, albeit he doesn't turn around. "What does it mean, then?" You ask, words getting quieter as you start to lose confidence the further the moment continues.

"I'm sure you'd love to know." That's all he leaves you with. Dissatisfied and annoyed with the pettiness and childlike behavior the Commander can sometimes exhibit, you ignore him whenever you can. After all, while he may have originally intrigued you, whatever curiosity you had is not worth whatever outcome you receive in the aftermath of one of his moods.

When you finally find out what the song means, it's at a moment you were completely unexpecting it. After a successful mission, you'd all celebrated by building a big bonfire at camp, sitting around after dinner, sharing stories, and drink. It's not every day you get to let loose, and while normally there's a fairly tight schedule to work around, you know better to take advantage of a free day when you can. With this in mind, you drink to your heart's content. After all, it's on the Commander, right? Listening to the stories, your head leans back against the wooden makeshift benches as your eyes find the bright stars above.

It may be an effortless attempt to map them out, or mentally draw out the constellations you know, but as you listen to the jokes, the stories, songs, and laugh along, it isn't until there's a momentary silence that you finally raise your head again. Scanning around the fire, you notice that everyone's gone to bed, it seems. And sure, while it's been a long day and it'd been getting late, you didn't think everyone would've left so soon. Yet, your eyes are drawn to the only other pair you see, staring at you from a few feet to your right. The last person left at the fire.

"You're not tired?" He asks, and it's weird. It's like there's no mask up this time. You're not sure if it's the alcohol playing tricks on you right now, or if you're really hearing him correctly, but he almost sounds... genuine.

Head leant back against the wood once again, you let it loll to the right, finally able to meet his gaze. The flames make his eyes shine brightly, his features illuminated in a fiery glow. His hair is slightly amess, some strands not falling in the same direction as the wind has blown them around. Nose and jaw sharply outlined by the shadows of the night, you can't help but feel warmth, and not because you're both sitting right in front of the fire. Eyes having roamed his features, they finally meet his again as he turns his gaze from the fire once more to you, clearly anticipating an answer.

With a shake of your head, you do nothing to stop the way your lashes slowly flutter, the mere thought and mention of sleep threatening. As you lift the bottle in your hands to your lips again, wanting to finish the last little fifth or sixth of drink left in it, you're met with a disgruntled hum. "I think you've had enough."

The words should be a warning to you. A loud and clear signal as to what was about to happen, and yet you hadn't put two and two together in your intoxicated state of mind. "Mm-mm. 'Slmost finished," you manage to slur out. Lifting the bottle again, Vladimir is quick to stand, closing the space between you as he snatches it out of your hand and tosses it into the fire. The glass breaks, flames fanning higher momentarily as he reaches under your armpits and lifts you up. There isn't much of a struggle considering you can't put up much of a fight in your state.

"It's time you get some sleep," he states, wrapping an arm around your back as he attempts to guide you to a tent. He guides you outside of the fire circle until you don't move. And while he's a strong man, perhaps it's the drink, or he doesn't know what, but you're being as stubborn as a rock.

"What's it mean?" You ask. This takes him aback; the Commander knows you're not ignorant, and while you may be drunk, there's certainly no way that vodka, or any sort of liquor no matter the quantity is capable of erasing such a simple fact as the meaning of sleep. While he takes a step back, eyes beginning to search for signs of injury, it isn't until he follows your gaze that he understands.

Albeit the distant snoring, the wind, the roaring fire, and crunching of both your boots, he hadn't realized. It was quiet, the radio on the other side of the firepit. The device had been left on, and while the two of you had stayed awake he hadn't paid too much mind to it, yet now he can't help but smile. Of course, of course of all moments this song would play. Right now.

"You really want to know?" Vladimir asks, not backing away as he towers over you, eyes meeting your face in the darkness as he waits for your attention to find him again. After all, perhaps with the way he's been the one to hear you all these little times, maybe... just maybe it could be a sign.

Ridiculous, of course. That's what he told himself for months now, too good to be true. He knows what he's done... what he's had to do. What he will do and must, not just for himself but for his people, for the planet, in order to not only survive, but bring the world to a state that will be beneficial for all. Nevertheless, they always say there's a price one must pay for such deeds. He knows this true... and while he might have dreamt at times of other lives and wanted for other things, those boy's dreams were crushed long ago.

That was... until the radio started playing that song only moments ago. As he scans your face, eager and almost impatient for you to turn your eyes on him, when you do, it's not what he expects. The scoff that meets him leaves him taken aback. Met with an eye roll, and an attempt to walk past him. He knows. He knows he can be rough, and while it might be harsh he grabs your arm and keeps you from walking any further away. Whatever prize he thinks he's found, whatever omen, sign, or soul tie... he's not letting this go. He's not letting you go.

"I know you're just gonna trick me again, okay?" While other times he might be delighted to hear that you think he'd play games with you, nothing but stoicism sits on his features.

Bringing you in close, he searches your eyes as he whispers. "The love words of his eyes are sweeter than songs." Vladimir cautiously places a hand on your waist, the one holding your arm releasing its grip as it slides up to rest on your shoulder. "From a couple of words, from a greeting, I become someone else. When he sways, my heart sways with him. I may sacrifice my eyes and whole life for him, and it's too little." He repeats the words, the two of you gently swaying in the moonlit camp as the music quietly accompanies him in the background through the aged radio.

"My night, oh, night, my night." It feels as if with each passing moment his voice somehow gets quieter and quieter if that was even possible, yet you're already so impossibly close. "Oh night, my night, his love makes the night longer. The love of years between him and I. Just one more step, my heart, it's not a fantasy." Your noses just barely brush against each other, breath mingling in the space between you.

"My soul just go with him and get lost in his beauty. His covets the magic of life, his charm extraordinary. The one whose eyes the moon envied. The smile is the shining sun." There's no denying the heat between you, the tension thick in the minimal space between you, both of your eyes closed as you revel in this moment. Yet, he knows he shouldn't. You wish he would. As the song comes to an end on the radio, he's the first to open his eyes, eager to watch your open yours. As you do, it's the same happiness and adoration that he's seen you with on your expression even when you had no idea what the song had meant.

You might not have known what it meant... but something about the vocals and the expression of the song had just given you the sense that it had been about exactly everything Vladimir had just described to you. "Thank you," you whisper, not quite ready to leave this moment. Not ready to leave his arms.

Zziiippp!!!

The sound of a tent opening nearby causes both of you to distance yourselves, something within each of you sobering up instantly. While, sure, he's the Commander and can have anything he wants... you both know things are better this way.

____________

translations:

любимая = loved one / darling / lovely

forever taglist: @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo ,@ohdamnadam

#cod mwiii x reader #cod mw3 x reader #vladimir makarov x reader #call of duty modern warfare 3 x reader #makarov x reader #cod mwiii makarov #cod mw3 makarov #my writing #my fics #cod fanfic #cod x reader #not proofread #not beta'd #song fics #song fic

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jester089 · 6 months

Note

I feel I need to balance this angst out, do this AFTER you’ve done the others and given yourself time to chill…I’ve got my eyes on you…

Anyhow, how’s about the TADC gang all seperate with an s/o who’s just the definition of ‘chill’. They are the best comfort partner (just behind Kinger ofc), they comfort, share and engage in hobbies, show small signs of affection like soft side hugs and gentle butterfly kisses to the cheeks or neck, an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. Will also 100% piggyback/bridal carry their significant other if asked or for fun. Just a pure wholesome fuzzy mess.

Lazy days

This is just going to be what I think their hobbies and all are. As it's a fluffy request I'm going to do softer not cannon versions of everyone. TADC crew x Chill/Relaxed Reader

Caine

Caine can be an incredibly busy man/AI so try and make him take breaks. He gets to caught up in work because he's so worried that if he doesn't have fun things to do then people will start abstracting. So when you walk into his office gently pick him up and sit down in his chair with him now sitting on your lap it helps him snap out of it. He isn't going to stop still. But he really appreciates you being there. You being there and every now and again giving him an idea you had makes the work take longer, but makes it much more enjoyable. You'll honestly probably end up falling asleep on him, arms wrapped around him head on his shoulder. Sadly he doesn't have a neck, or any real exposed skin. So kisses will be a little rough but that isn't gonna stop you. It is a little weird kissing a giant set of teeth though. And second he finished up, or at least reaches a point where he can stop you pick him up and take him to your bed. Sometimes he'll tunnel vision to much on something and you'll have to do that anyways. It's like holding an angry cat when that happens, minus the claws.

Gangle

Gangle loves affection but isn't amazing at giving nor receiving it. Any time you do anything she can and will blush. And if you protect her from Jax. Putty Gangle has arrived. How relaxed you are despite everything happening helps her out a lot. I headcannon that she loves working with clay, like making pottery and all. But sadly with her ribbon hands she can't do it anymore. Or rather couldn't, cause you help her out. You two will sit in front of a potters wheel. You have her place her hands on the outside of yours and you just let her lead. (I have made plenty of pottery in my time and I can safely say it is incredibly hard to do.) Sadly unless your helping her with something she doesn't let you in her pottery station anymore. You tried to make a mug for her without her and it didn't go well. You didn't know the first thing about pottery when she wasn't guiding you so it ended up blowing up in the kiln. You felt really bad. Cuddles with Gangle are a little strange. She doesn't have any real body weight so it really does feel like your cuddling a piece of ribbon (for good reason). So you two came up with something. You got a body pillow that's around her height and when you two are cuddling she'll wrap around it so she has more mass. When she needs some comfort you'll know. Whenever she's in a really bad mood and wants you touch but doesn't really want to say it she'll exist really close to you and start gently wrapping one of her arms around yours. Overall 10/10, she's a giant sweetheart and your lucky you got her. So treat her well yeah?

Zooble

I recommend bringing some kind of hoodie or blanket with you. Her edges can be a little harsh on the body. Out of everyone Zooble is the highest chance of most cuddles. She never gets involved in adventures and avoids the others when she can. Which basically just means more alone time with her. Zooble has a lot of insecurities concerning her new body and the circus. You're the only one she trust enough with that kind of thing so don't downplay her thoughts and emotions. The main way she shows affection is just spending time with you, she isn't big on touch and she doesn't exactly have the resources for gifts. And that worries her, she knows that she can be rude and unpleasant to be around but she doesn't have anything else to offer you. She's not great at communication so you really just need to keep patient and keep loving her. She has a jagged and rough exterior, but it like everything can be broken. It'll just take time.

Kinger

You two make a great bunch. The others never would have thought but if someone is having an especially bad day they go to you two. Kinger is amazing at calming and encouraging words, and your amazing at calming acts and setting up an atmosphere. You've saved a lot from abstraction because of that. Hugs are amazing from him. That royal medieval robe he's wearing is really nice to the touch. Sadly he doesn't have a mouth but he'll try and make up for that with head bonks (Head bonk: To gently place your head against someone you care about to show affection. Usually used when that person isn't comfortable with kisses.) One time you two built an actual castle out of pillows. It took you like a day but it had a working drawbridge and everything! Sadly it was broken during an adventure but it was really fun to build with Kinger. He can get a little... Unstable... When that happens a tight hug and a kiss can usually snap him out of it. But if that doesn't work bring him back to your room. The atmosphere you have set up and the fact that it smells like you will help him out a lot.

Ragatha

Once again you two make a good combo. She holds people off from breaking down. But if she can't stop it then she sends em to you. So once again you two help with abstraction a lot. But poor baby is stressed and you help provide some needed relief. I see her as the type of if she was expecting a kiss or a hug she'll hug/kiss back and thank you. If she wasn't she turns into a blushing mess with a big ol dopey smile on her face. Something she appreciates a lot is more childish things. Like if you start up a pillow fight with her she will be ecstatic. But be warned her pillows hit like a truck. Not cause their different just because she's really good at pillow fights. Her fav cuddle type is the honeymoon hug (look it up). She gets to be close to you and give you smooches if she wants. And she gets to feel like she's protecting you. She is the mom friend and you annoy her by saying over the top things like. "Ok MOM" when she asks you to stop doing something. First few times she hated it but now she goes along with it sayng things like "Hey! Don't talk back to me. Give me your phone you're grounded." She never means it though.

Jax

I think Jax is the most stable person in the circus. I'm saying he's mentally ok I'm just saying that he is by far at the least risk for abstraction. Whenever Jax plays a joke on someone and you go to help calm them down he gets a little jealous. He knows you love him but he doesn't really like you talking to others. So don't be surprised if you're in the middle of comforting someone and he just picks you up and walks away. He can be a little mean so for your own sake try and not take his words to heart. He just by second nature starts pointing things out that he dislikes, and often he starts pointing out things on/to do with you before he realizes. He also won't apologize so just try and ignore it. He sorta makes up for it with affection though. Cause he's pretty affectionate. Most of it is teasing yes, like he's come out of no where kiss your cheek and use a pet name that flusters you then just leave like he didn't do anything. But he's surprisingly gentle when it comes to that kind of thing. I see him being the type where you two fall asleep in the same bed and you wake up with him having his arms and legs around you probably drooling on your forehead. Or he's one of those that take up the whole bed so you often wake up on the floor. Many say that opposites attract. And you two are very different. But that isn't a bad thing.

Pomni

You two are opposites in a lot of ways. She is anxious and constantly in a state of panic/worry. And you never are. So you help her a lot. I see her being kind of like a cat towards you. Constantly around you and or begging for attention. I have an idea that I came up with a few years ago. It's a hoodie with a giant pocket inside. Like one of those baby carriers but minus the straps and inside the hoodie so who/whatever you keep in there share warmth. And she loves it. You two can be relaxing in your room and she'll realize something and spring off the bed you two were on. She and will turn the entire place upside down looking for it (https://www.tiktok.com/@louiencoco/video/7214862848042831110) so if you don't wanna have to clean up later just show her where it is. On a more serious note though you two were a match made in heaven and with enough time you could make a genuine improvement in her mental health. The main reason she's so fragile mentally is cause she never gets/got a break. So her favorite activity with you is probably just relaxing in one of your rooms away from the others.

(Tumblr deleted this like 3 times while I was writing it. And it turned out kind of bad because of that. Sorry but don't blame me. Blame tumblr.)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #kinger x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #pomni x reader #noob author #not beta'd

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syrupgirl · 1 year

Text

Sully men and the language they love in

+incl Neteyam, Lo’ak and Jake <3

NETEYAM

Quality time & acts of service

๑༄ ‧₊˚ This guy just wants to be helpful and be able to be with you whenever he has spare the time. I think being so close to his siblings made him love spending quality time with people he loves so that definitely translates into his relationship with you

⤷��Neteyam, where are you going?” Neytiri questioned, placing down the basket she attempted to weave.

“yn is going to help me with my free diving, maybe even teach me how to hunt.” He sounded giddy and was clearly ready to go. His mother smiled and looked down at her lap.

“Alright, do not get into any trouble.” Neteyam nodded frantically and without another second he took off towards the shore.

“Surely it cannot be that different than what Tsireya has been teaching us.”

The two of you bobbed up and down in the water, letting the waves gently jostle you while you taught Neteyam.

“You are right, not too different. But hunting under the water asks you to be able to move your breath around your body in a different way that just free diving.” You explained.

The distance between you closed and you placed a hand on Neteyam’s chest.

“Imagine the breath you take flowing all throughout your body.” His chest slowly expanded and deflated under your palm. “Like…Rain trickling from leaf to leaf, like wind weaving itself through the trees.”

Neteyam’s snorted and you whined, “Come one, you almost had it!”

He continued to laugh and brought a hand up to his face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. It’s just…The way you explained it. I could tell you were really trying to explain it in a way that you thought I would get.”

Heat crept up to your face and you looked away, a little embarrassed.

“I thought it might help you..,”

Neteyam’s laughing died down and he took your hand in his under the water, feeling a little bad.

“It did, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I think it is adorable you are trying to…customise your teachings for me.” He brought your hand up to his chest again and took a deep breath.

“Now, tell me what to do again.”

LO’AK

Gift giving & physical touch

๑༄ ‧₊˚ I don’t know about you, but I can totally imagine Lo’ak bringing you things he finds pretty or things he thinks you will find pretty. It might just be me over exaggerating that lone wolf, not-like-other-guys quality about him but in my head, he’s quirky like that

⤷”Lo’ak? Lo’ak!” You called. He was just next to you…Where could he have wondered off to? Leaping over a small creek, you continued to scan the foliage around you maybe to catch a glimpse of him.

The ground was moist beneath you noticed as you sat down, opting to wait for Lo’ak to turn up again like he always did. Your eyes drifted shut and you let yourself away with the gently breeze that combed and wove itself through the tall trees and colourful bushes. So caught up in the environment around you, you didn’t notice the sneaking footsteps behind you.

Lo’ak crept up behind you, a colourful flower in between his fingers. While sneaking through the thicket, he had noticed it and was immediately entranced by it’s delicate petals and long stamen. After sayings a quick prayer to Eywa in exchange for this beautiful gift, he plucked it and made his way back to you.

Now right behind you, he gently picked up the long braid that protected your tsaheylu and wove the stem through the intricately woven hair. You gasped and turned around suddenly, your hair slapping Lo’ak right across the face and he sputtered.

“Oh, Lo’ak! You scared me!” You gasped and punched him pathetically in the arm. He laughed and came to sit next to you.

“There was a flower, a pretty one. I thought you might like it.” He gently picked up the large plait and showed where he had woven the flower through. A smile settled across your lips.

“Thank you, Lo’ak, it’s beautiful.”

Lo’ak said nothing just smiled bashfully and shuffled a bit closer to you, threading his fingers through yours.

JAKE

Words of affirmation & physical touch

๑༄ ‧₊˚ Over the years, the world has worn on Jake. He’s a father and he will stop at nothing to protect his family. He worries, worries, worries CONSTANTLY, so the days where he can let the weight slip from his shoulders and just gather you in his embrace and shower you in gooey loving words feel all the more sweet to him.

⤷“Whose kids are those?” Jake sighed as he fell down next to you. “Not mine, that’s for sure. I was never that hyper as a kid.”

A laugh bubbles up from your stomach as you adjusted Tuk on your chest.

“Are you sure? Maybe they don’t mirror your childhood, but they do remind me of when you first arrived here. All clumsy and eager in your new body.” He laughed at that and wrapped his arm around you.

The sound of the boys in the river playing not far away washes over the two of you both. After a while, you remove Tuktirey from your breast and up to your shoulder to clear her airway of bubbles.

Jake’s eyes lingered on you and his youngest and smiled. He brought a hand up to gently pat her back and Tuk responded with a gurgle. He took her from your arms and lay the baby across his chest, then pulled you closer by the arm around your shoulders.

You nestled yourself into his side and lifted a finger up to stroke your baby’s cheek. She cooed and you both smiled.

“I don’t say it enough but,” you turned your head up to look at your mate, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For them-” he looked to the direction of his other children who were still occupied in the stream “-for her-” now looking at Tuk “-Everything. I don’t know where I would be today without you.”

No words were needed after that. As a tear rolled down your cheek, you closed your eyes and rest.

#not beta read #not beta'd #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #jake sully x reader #neteyam #jake sully #lo’ak #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar 2

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kimchikrust · 11 months

Text

The Same Coin (1.4k)

Following the Racoon City incident, Leon met you in his drill squad. You gave him the cold shoulder from day 1.

"I know your history, Kennedy," you sneer, leaning back on your hip. You're both still in your gear, caked in mud and reeking of sweat, but Leon can't get through his drills when you're not communicating with him.

It took less than a week for him to call you on your pettiness.

"You got real lucky once, and they considered you qualified. Some fucking bullshit." Taking long strides towards him, you shove your helmet into his chest. "You're gonna get yourself, and the rest of my team killed."

You must've felt bad after you shoved past and left him holding your helmet (or you were caught and reprimanded) because your communication skills notably worked for him the following day. You were stern and unforgiving in tone whenever you gave orders, but Leon performed well and kept quiet about your standoffish personality.

A few squad members tried to vouch for your character once the tension became noticeable, but Leon didn't experience any changes until his first assignment.

It all went to shit, but it had nothing to do with your team and everything to do with misinformation about the situation. The original directive was abandoned almost immediately as your squad members got picked off by the hoard of undead monsters.

Leon took a moment to respect your quick adaption and headshot precision once realization settled in through his adrenaline. You looked as familiar as he felt, and within hours of your deployment, only three of you were left. You, him, and Sergeant Hendy.

"Fuck!" You spit angrily, covering your flank as the sergeant was briefly overwhelmed. "Pick it up, Sarge!"

Leon felt the urge to grab the soldier's collar and drag his ass back, but you bark 'Negative, Kennedy." You even go as far as dropping your gun to run for it with Leon in tow – effectively using the sergeant's death to your advantage.

"We could've saved him," he murmured bitterly once the danger was gone and you were waiting for exfil. You had been silent since abandoning Sergeant Hendy, communicating only when necessary and relaying information from the radio.

"He was compromised," you respond, void of emotion and attachment. "It was him or us."

"He wasn't bit-" Leon started to snap back, but you silenced him with a look. An expression mixed with anguish and fear that you tried to cover up with a steely gaze, and Leon could see right through it.

"You can blame me all you want, but I made a call." You turned your head away from him, and he couldn't see your face, but he could hear the lump in your throat. "And I'll have to live with it, but- It could've gone a lot worse if we did anything different."

He earns time off after that mission, accepting a luxurious apartment stationed in D.C. for the time being until his skills are required again.

It's nearing midnight when Leon gets a phone call from an unknown number. He's cautious when he answers. Who would be calling him this late?

"Kennedy. Want to grab a drink?" Leon almost drops his phone when your voice echoes in the receiver.

"You realize how late it is?" He runs his free hand over his face as he glances at the digital clock at his bedside. He could hear your environment in the background and deduced you were already a few drinks in, stretching his legs over the edge of the bed until his feet met cold hardwood.

"Did I wake you up?" You didn't sound apologetic or even curious, like you knew the answer. Leon kept quiet, hoping to move past the question as he threw on jeans and a clean shirt, but he heard you hum in drunken amusement. "Thought so. At a bar on West Marshall. I'll let you know when you get here."

You don't, but it's a pretty dead area, and there's only one bar at the end of the street. It doesn't take Leon much effort to locate you by yourself in the corner, fiddling with a shot glass and a half-empty bottle of rum.

"Kennedy, let me pour you a shot." You're quick to serve a hefty amount, but Leon carefully declines.

"I'll take a whiskey," he tells the bartender while sliding into the seat next to you. He's tempted to stop you when you shrug and toss back the shot like water, but your actions are smooth, and you don't look very drunk. "What's the occasion?" Because there has to be a reason you're getting shitfaced by yourself and randomly calling him up, but Leon's smart enough to keep that insight to himself.

"We're celebrating," you drawl, voice cracking as you shake while pouring your next shot. Leon notes how unfocused your eyes are and the beads of sweat forming along your hairline. "As of today, I am officially a Federal Agent."

You roughly knock your shot against his glass before downing it without flinching. Leon takes his sip, but his eyes never leave your face. He can't read anything.

"This is all I've wanted for ten years." Your voice is wavering, and your eyes are suddenly glossy. A scoff makes your shoulders bounce, and you're a little too loose when you fall forward, but you catch yourself. "All it took was my whole fucking squad."

You tilt the bottle back and take large swigs of rum, and Leon decides to stop you there. His arm reaches out to take your wrist, but your other hand smacks him away.

"I could be blacked out and still kick your ass, Kennedy." You end your statement with a hiccup, followed by giddy-drunk laughter, and Leon chuckles gently at your mood swing.

You're drunk, he confirms to himself, watching you pat your pockets until you locate a worn-out box of cigarettes. You pluck one out before hesitating, warily glancing at Leon. You hold the box out to him in a silent question.

Leon shakes his head.

"Not for me."

"Good for you," he hears you murmur against the stick between your lips. Leon's not sure if you meant for him to hear, but he'll take your verbal hazing over the awkward silence. "Where is my- Fuck, there it is." You pull a lighter out next, and Leon imagines you smoke a lot off-duty.

You take a long drag, looking over the table before dragging an ashtray closer by your fingers.

"I owe you an apology," you say after an apparent moment of hesitation. You tap your cigarette against the tray, interested in watching the ash crumble away. "I've been an asshole."

Leon fails to stifle his laugh, earning a sour side-eye from you. "An understatement."

"I just- I hated you. I worked my ass off my whole career to even be considered for a task force. And the second I get it, they assign a rookie cop with almost no field experience to me."

"Yeah, I wasn't too thrilled about it myself," Leon agrees, taking a swig for solidarity.

"I thought I was getting set up to fail when they assigned you to me," you tell him, suddenly serious. "But I don't think I would've made it out alive if you weren't there. So, thank you. And I'm sorry."

You turn in your chair and hold your hand out to him, and Leon wonders if you're aware of your actions now. He smiles when he takes your hand, and you shake it for good measure.

A spark of interest flickers over your face before you pull away and hold your bottle to him to toast with.

Leon laughs as he satisfies you, bumping the bottom of his glass against yours and taking another sip. He eyes you the whole time, gulping down the last of the bottle with a pained sigh once it's finished.

"There, you drank on it," you point out, and Leon looks at you curiously. "We're settled. Shook on it, then drank."

"That's a thing?" Leon frowns as you bob your head up and down. "No, it's not."

"No, it is," you insist, gently drumming your hands against the counter. "It settles disputes better than knocking the other person's teeth in."

"Oh, really? Who the hell told you that?"

"My grandma."

Leon nodded, grateful he decided to take you up on your offer for a drink. "She sounds like a smart woman."

"Yeah," you hum with a dopey smile, reaching for your pockets and signaling the bartender to pay. "She would have liked to meet you."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil imagine #mary on a cross - diana #not beta'd

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suraemoon · 4 months

Text

It Couldn’t Be Better

Elvis x Reader - snippets of Elvis’ first Christmas with your family

Warnings: None really, just fluff and flirting

WC: 3.8k (was supposed to a blurb idk what happened)

A/N: Look, I’m aware that this isn’t good and is all over the place. I’d spend a few more days on it if I could but today is Christmas (yay!) and it would make no sense to post it any other day. I put in my masterlist that this would hopefully be out by the 25th and here it is. It’s based on the prompts “It could be worse” and something along the lines of “a character’s parent makes them tacky christmas sweaters” Merry Christmas y’all!!!!! I LOVE YOU.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“It could be worse.” Your voice radiates fake optimism as your manicured nails pick a piece of lint from the homemade, bright red knitted sweater on your upper half.

You look up from your quick maintenance to be met with Elvis’ scrunched nose and concentrated eyes as his hand pulls on his sweater's borderline turtleneck collar, a bright “Christmas tree” green to complement yours festively.

The sweaters were beautifully knit with white stripes going back in forth in turn with the chosen festive color. Glued on the knit were an array of tinseled pompoms and ironed on were different designs of patches. Smiles, hearts, stars, animals, santa’s, snowflakes, etc; they all looked like they’d be better suited on a girl’s poodle skirt. “Eh..I guess.”

Your mama had sent you two up to your bedroom to get ready in time for Christmas dinner with your whole extended family.

From her spot next to the stove in the kitchen, one that seemed permanent for her during the holiday season, Mama was cooking up her signature feast and the scent of food filled the air teasingly. The smell enveloped everyone and only built up anticipation for later in the day.

Earlier in the day, when the cold wind flowed in anticipation and the white snowflakes made themselves home, you and your boyfriend had been tasked with cleaning the whole house from top to bottom.

One of the most famous men in the country having his first Christmas at your house? Mama was quick to put a broom in his hand for she had the elder generational quality to not spend her time focusing on pop culture and society but instead what needed to be done in order to keep her home running smoothly, especially during the holidays.

“You need to wash my windows, clean my counters, sweep and mop the floors…”

You couldn’t stop a huff from leaving your lips at the housekeeping task for this was the first year that you desired to be in the kitchen, observant to her methods and helping when you can.

Your mother was easily the best cook you knew, she knew the kitchen like the back of her hand, and with your growing relationship with Elvis starting to become more and more serious, you started thinking about your own cooking skills…well the lack of.

One day you will be handed the baton of Thanksgiving and Christmas meals and there’s no harm in trying to learn the ins and outs of it now.

“You need to give the dog a bath, make sure every bedroom in the house looks neat…”

The urge to be a housewife never striked upon your young ambitious mind until you met Mr. Elvis Presley. He unknowingly had the ability to cooking, cleaning, and raising children seemed so much more desirable. A life centered around being his subservient, supportive wife seemed delicious when his hand was intertwined in yours. A few years ago, a younger and singler you would’ve called yourself crazy. Nowadays you just call yourself in love.

“You got it, ma’am.”

Elvis met this list of chores as long as Santa Claus’ list with a smile for he was a restless person always looking for something to do, always searching for an excuse to move, and you knew deep down that he missed his own mama telling him to do stuff.

Now, a few hours later, that genuine go-with-the-flow grin was replaced with the tug of his lip genuinely trying its best to exude politeness as his hand tugged on the collar of his christmas sweater again, the top of his pale collarbone teasing you in the process.

The sun was now lower in the sky but the clouds did not tire from dropping snowflakes anywhere they could. The warm light of your lamp illuminated your freshly tidied room.

It fit the comfort of the holiday spirit better than the sunshine of the early day where brightness flowed through every window as you cleaned them with a rag, the circular motion of your hand mirrored the making of a snowball. Now the view out of the window was a grayish storm of flurries, weather in which a warm sweater would come in handy.

To make light of an awkward situation, you decide to embrace it and do a quick spin in front of him, showing off your full festive outfit. The cranberry red of your oversized sweater is paired with a black leather mini skirt and black leather boots to match.

It’s an outfit that you wouldn’t usually ever wear for a family event like this. But your boyfriend's overwhelming presence: fingers that you knew would always intertwine with yours as if meant to be, an arm that would never fail to wrap around your waist, feet that would always gravitate towards being around you, it all filled you with an indescribable sense of confidence.

The pure sex appeal Elvis exuded 24/7, seemingly effortless as if the attraction comes with his nature, always inclined you to put your all into matching it’s magnetic energy. The spin stops and your feet go to tippy toes to reach up and kiss his sugar plum lips. “What do ya think?”

Elvis wets his lips as if your lipstick had a flavor and his eyes look you over your figure fully as he takes your hand to give you a quick little twirl. Instead of a full 360 it was more of two 180’s since he stopped a second to take a quick look at your back side.

A low whistle was the background music to the rest of your orbit and his cheeky little smile seemed to glow when in the presence of your maroon red lipstick. “I think I gotta see what’s under it. Gonna let me do a little inspection? Wanna make sure everything’s sitting right…working the way it’s sposed ta.”

“Elvis! It’s Christmas…gotta be family friendly.”

He chuckles as a response comes too quickly to brain, “I wanna get real friendly with you, honey.”

You hit his shoulder playfully, “Stop that.”

“Hey! It’s Christmas, honey. Thought we had to be family friendly and that hitting ain’t very holly jolly of ya. I’m surprised Santa didn’t give ya coal this year.”

“Oh please. I don’t think Santa would mind me putting ya in line for naughty thoughts.”

“I don’t think Santa would mind me bending ya over my knee for a smart mouth but…” He shrugs, putting his sleeves in his pants pockets.

You stick out your tongue at him and he laughs his beautiful laugh. Gliding as if on ice back to the mirror of your vanity, you apply some more blush to your cheeks. Getting a little too warm and secretly having the cheeky desire to show more skin, you subconsciously fold the ribbed collar of your sweater down a little bit.

When met with the black and purple of a hickey on the side of your neck, immediately the collar is put back in its original place, the fabric willing to revert back to how it was supposed to be worn and mocking you in the process as if saying “told you so”.

A whisper escapes your lip, “Jesus…”

Elvis perks up from the seat he has taken on your bed in response, for he loves an opportunity to talk to (and tease) his favorite girl, “Lord’s name in vain on his birthday?”

Your eyes, framed by black liner and an eyeshadowed lid, meet his through the mirror of the vanity, “Elvis what’d ya do to my neck? It ain’t ever been this much before.”

“Hmm…” His arms are at his sides, stabilizing himself against the plush of the comforter, and he looks simply adorable with his false pout as if thinking of a smart remark to respond with.

“Hm indeed.”

He chuckles, “Today about love ain’t it? You don’t wanna put ya collar down and show everyone how much I love ya?”

“Elvis…”

As if automatic, your eyes roll playfully and he decides to continue, “Not gonna show off that pretty little neck, huh? You always look pretty but you look even prettier when you’re all marked up…all claimed.”

“You’re too much.” You shake your head, trying to cool off the influx of red that has awoken on your cheeks.

“People wanna know which one’s E.P.’s girl? Oh, they’ll know. She got the love marks to prove it. She’s the only girl I wanna love on.”

Your soft hands go up to cover your face but they make sure to keep a safe distance in order to not mess up the canvas of progress you have made at the vanity. “Shoo…you’re too distracting. I gotta finish my makeup.”

“So…?”

“So…they’re staying covered.”

A few minutes later, he speaks again from a spot on your bed as you apply the finishing touches of your makeup. “No offense to your mama, honey, but…I don't think homemade holiday sweaters are really in trend. Not these ones at least.”

His slight frown gives way to a bright laugh, a sound prettier than the jingle bells adorning the sleeves of his sweeter.

“Everyone’s gonna be wearing one so we’re all gonna be weird together.”

“Mm.”

“Last year was polka dots…polka dots. So count yourself lucky you weren’t around for that.”

Your mother’s homemade knitted wool Christmas sweaters have been a longstanding tradition in your family since….forever. When asked, it was your great-great grandmother that started it years ago. Or was it your great-great-great grandma? No one would be surprised if the family’s Christmas sweater fascination started way back in the simple days of the cavemen when your neanderthal ancestors were in need of warmth and for some odd reason in addition to fire and sharpened sticks, they had the supplies to create tacky garments of clothing.

You and Elvis started dating in January, so this year was full of firsts with this cold December wrapping it up lovingly in a snug little bow.

When dinner was served at Elvis’ first Thanksgiving with your family, the unusual but warmly content silence around the large, wooden dinner table was interrupted abruptly by your mother’s sudden thought. A soft gasp called for hungry heads to look up from their plates.

You would think there was a lightbulb above her head or that an epiphany to solve world hunger was in her thoughts. Your mama looked at Elvis with a gleeful smile, “I’ve gotta ‘nother Christmas sweater to make this year!” You remember the way Elvis’ smile was apprehension coating in politeness, wondering what the hell she was talking about. Your mama made clothes? How has that never come up?

His blue eyes widened for a full second about two weeks later when he was sat quickly by your mother on the couch with a gift box practically shoved in his hands. “Sit, sit ,sit!” Your mama said as if a little kid again.

The same eagerness did not translate to when you sat down, as by now you knew the routine by heart. You got practically the same gift two weeks before Christmas every single year. Just different designs, patterns, and decor but in its essence the same gift filled with the same love. This was always around the time when mama gave everyone there sweaters either in person or by mail.

Now that you think about it…this giftbox looks suspiciously similar to the same one you opened last year. Is that why your mama made sure you were careful not to break it?

The ornaments on the tree, a brand new one from last year right next to one you crafted out of popsicle sticks and cardboard in kindergarten. The nostalgia and newness blended seamlessly on the forest green branches.

The opening of boxes takes attention away from the tree, a happy presence willing to blend into the background the best it can. Your perfectly wrapped and ribboned rectangle has not even been touched but you watch intently as Elvis tries to carefully peel the tape off the side of the box. Your mother wouldn’t have minded if he tore it to shreds. She would’ve told you off if you had dared, but with Elvis it would’ve been alright.

“Y-you really didn’t hafta get me anything, ma’am. It’s real kind of you.”

Your mother replies matter of factly, “Are you kidding? It’s Christmas! Of course I had to give my son-in-law something.” You and Elvis weren’t married. Not yet. But the law of the heart doesn’t care about physical papers. In the minds of your welcoming family, new people were accepted with open arms and once their hearts got on Elvis they never want him to go.

Elvis brings his attention to you for the first time in a while, lifting your chin up gently with his hands as he admires your face. “You already blessed me with your beautiful daughter. She’s better than any gift, no doubt.” A shade of pink flushes over your face as Elvis gives you a quick, soft kiss.

“Awww. My two little turtle doves. Well, I’m allowed to give ya more than one gift so go ‘head.”

When the top of the box is lifted off, a tiny sweet sounding gasp escapes Elvis’ lips as his eyes fall on the christmas sweater. “O-oh…wow, ma’am. It’s, it’s really somethin’.”

Mama watches intently, “Do ya like it?”

He could pass for a deer in headlights. “More than like it. I can’t wait to wear it for um..Christmas.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the false enthusiasm and at this noise mom’s attention turns straight to you and the box on your lap, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “Are you too cool in front of your boyfriend to open yours?”

Shaking your head, the faint sound of Christmas radio sings in your ears as you open your first gift of Christmas. It’s red to go with Elvis’ green. Youthful to contrast with a growing daughter, homey and nostalgic to compete with a fast, changing lifestyle.

Your smile is genuine as you reply, “Thanks mama. It’s really nice.”

All three of you share the most comfortable of silences. It wasn’t silent really, music flowed through the room and firewood crackled; the background ambience that makes any December day anymore special.

The memories of your mother and her cute interactions with your boyfriend (all of which showing she approved of him greatly) was interrupted by the voice of the man himself. All of sudden you were brought back where you were: in your room getting ready with the person you love the most on the 25th of December.

“You ready to go down, honey? I think I heard some people walk in.”

“Oh..yeah! Let’s go.” Taking his hand, you walk over to the door.

“Wait a second…” Your mind immediately goes to the lamp you left on but his mind is somewhere else completely. He leans down to kiss you, long and hard. The unexpected passion takes you back but your heels stay steady on the ground, all of your attention on kissing him back with the same fervidity. His calloused hand is on your soft cheek and your fingers flow through his black hair. You want the moment to never end but like all things in life it inevitably does.

“Now we can go.” His smirk is teasing and playful. He knows the effect he has on you. He knows by your red cheeks and wide eyes how weak he can make you.

“I-” Practically speechless you just nod and take his hand, walking shakily out of the door. He laughs at the sudden urgency, slapping your behind playfully as you walk in front of him.

When your face, your whole body for that matter, started to become less warm and all of the many happy greetings to family and friends were finished, the evening was going splendidly. Laughs and cheer filled the space and joy at being back together radiated off of everyone in the room.

This year, you started to become more aware of not only yourself but your surroundings. What would this look like to a fly on the wall? What would it look like to a man attending his first Christmas with the loved ones that you have grown up being accustomed to? The Christmas tree shined brightly, decorated with a mismatched array of ornaments that went together perfectly. Every seat had a person and the garlands that Elvis hung up on the walls looked down at everyone adoringly.

From your spot standing in the open arched doorway connecting the dining room and living room you are a true wall flower for a moment. You notice how the group of younger teenage cousins brought their friends over for dinner for the first time ever and it just so happened to be the year where Elvis Presley started to attend the gathering. Giggles and whispers came from the corners of the living room, juveniles no longer embarrassed by matching tacky sweaters.

Looking away, your knowing smirk turns into a wide, adoring smile as you turn your attention to Elvis playing with your littlest cousins on the fluffy rug.

Unlike their older counterparts, their innocent smiles are refreshing for they are oblivious to the fact that it is the Elvis Presley playing with them.

To the little ones, he’s just Mr. Elvis, a friend to play with. He’s cradling the youngest baby gently in his arms while sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. A toddler in two pigtails and a bright pink knit sweater plays in his gelled hair as if on an oblivious mission to mess it up.

Little Jane managed to get her hand on a brush and was trying to play make-believe hair salon with your boyfriend. “Sit still, Mr. Elvis!”

“Oops.” Elvis winces as the hard brush hits him on the side of the head. “I’m trying, honey, I really am. Hard when you’re trying ta pull my hair out.”

“I’m tryna make ya look pretty! If you wanna look a mess just say it.”

“Maybe sometimes I wanna look a mess.”

She groans, “You hardly got a lotta hair anyway. It’s all shiny and too hard ta make ponies.” And just like that, with an attention span the size of her tiny legs, she abandons both Elvis and the brush to go play with a group of older kids about older elementary age.

Elvis chuckles lightly and focuses on the small baby still in his lap, trying to grab at him with chubby hands. His plush lashes flutter gently as he looks down and gives the little cherub all of his pretty attention and you swear right then and there, your heart was about to escape from your chest.

“Ain’t you the cutest? You’re the cutest, ain’t ya?” The baby giggles an infectious giggle and Elvis’ smirk is just as adorable.

“I gotta get myself one of ya. A cute little baby. A littlun just like you.”

“I gotta get myself one of ya.” He’s talking to a baby, and you’re his girlfriend, the only one who can help him with that wish. Stuck in place, your legs feel weak as you lean on the wall next to you for support and your stomach can be easily compared to a snow globe filled with a flurry of snowflakes. If hearts can do somersaults, yours has many times since you’ve met Elvis.

His hand envelops one of the baby’s white socks gently. “Tiny little sooties too.”

The baby’s gummy grin gets wider as he kicks his feet, fascinated with Elvis’ hand like a new toy. Your boyfriend moves up from the itty bitty feet to tickle the tiny belly lying in front of him, then his palm relaxes, moving up and down in a soothing motion over the little one’s soft sweater. By the way Elvis’ pink lips move you can tell he has started to sing a song. It’s a quiet melody just between him and the baby he's holding. The most beautiful, adorable secrets.

When you remember that you are an actual person in the room and your legs feel less like jello, in your head you decide to walk over to the spot on the rug where Elvis is sitting but before your heels could move a second step, the ringing of a bell fills the room.

“Dinner everyone!” The voice of your mother is a saving grace to every hungry soul in the house.

Elvis stands up, holding the baby securely as if he has been a professional at holding infants his whole life. The mother, your eldest cousin, walks over shyly with a blush on her face as she carefully takes the baby from Elvis’ arms so he could go eat.

“You’ve got a really cute daughter, honey…well her mama’s cute so I know where she got it from.”

Flustered, her mouth parts a little as she adjusts the smiley baby on her hip. “O-oh. Um..thank you. Thank you very much.”

He had a way of speaking, a beautiful charm, that could make any woman he comes across blush. No matter how long the sparkly wedding ring has been on their ring finger. By the way she looked at Elvis, you wouldn’t know that the young mother has been married to her actual husband for two years. You’d think the baby in her hands was Elvis’.

Elvis smirked his “I know what I’m doing” cheeky grin and kissed the baby’s cheek before walking away.

Suddenly, You and Elvis start to walk to each other simultaneously as if all that time apart wore you out and you needed another dose, attracting like the opposite sides of the strongest magnet, the two of you meet in the middle of the room.

You’re the next to get your cheek kissed and he whispers to you, “Remember when ya said earlier that things could be worse when I was grumbling ‘bout the sweater.”

“Oh, I remember.”

He holds your hand and begins to lead you to the kitchen as he finishes his thought. “I’ll tell ya. Today couldn’t get better, honey. It really couldn’t.”

As you walk, the voices of tiny children ring out suddenly, “Mistletoe! Mistletoe!” It took Elvis tapping your shoulder and pointing up to notice that the audience was addressing you and him. Through long lashes you look up and indeed a piece of green hangs above in the archway that you and Elvis stand in. To any on-looker the image of you two could’ve been a painting. You indeed felt frozen in time.

“It’s the mistletoe! That’s your boyfriend, you gotta kiss!” The tiny voices continued their protesting.

Elvis smiles at you, “Well, I guess it could get a little better. It’s bad luck to ignore the mistletoe. Need to feel ya on me…been too long.”

“Merry Christmas, Elvis.” Just like that, you reach up and kiss him, your thumb moving back and forth on his cheek as you tilt your head to the side. He starts kissing you back immediately and an eruption of tiny cheers fills the room.

#merry christmas #happy new year #very quickly proofread #not beta'd #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #50s elvis #elvis x reader #60s elvis #70s elvis #vintage #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley x reader #elvis fluff #elvis x you #elvis x y/n

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