#in all reality anything is better than the floor probably
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fungus-of-death · 8 months ago
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Jesus fuck bed so comfy I might sleep forever actually
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imawreck · 6 months ago
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His
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Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader
Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and you’d been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isn’t himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to say…
Author’s Note: I realize that in most of my fics Thor is the other romantic interest/situationship, but you CANT tell me that man wouldn’t flirt up a storm with a beautiful woman any chance he got. Also, this is my first smutty fic so feedback and comments would be much appreciated! This is on the more explicit side, so please read with caution.
Warnings: Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), choking kink, Possessive!Winter Soldier, flashbacks, hair pulling, fingering, metal arm kink, dominant!winter soldier, probably some more but those are the big ones.
Word Count: 4,850
Breakups are ugly most of the time, and almost always one sided.
You and Bucky had been apart for at least three months. You’d stopped counting, wanting to forget it and focus on anything else. It was easier that way, to ignore the heartbreak and clutter up your life with other things to do.
Unfortunately, you still lived in the same tower on the same floor, right across from one another. He was constantly around, and no mattered how hard you tried, you just couldn’t avoid him.
It was hell.
And it was only hell because Bucky hardly gave you a good reason for the break up. Sure, you had your arguments. Mostly about his past and how much better he thought you deserved, to which you’d list all the reasons he was wrong. In reality, those weren’t really arguments. It was just Bucky having a low point, which you were more than willing to help him work through. Outside of those moments, you had felt that your relationship with Bucky was near perfect.
So when he had come back from a mission and broke up with you, his only reason being ‘I can’t be with you,’ it’d been a slap to the face. Like someone had shoved a knife in your heart and twisted.
The worst part was that he wouldn’t even allow you the chance to talk to him afterwards. Every time you were in the same room together alone, he’d find every reason not to speak with you.
So, you’d taken the hint and were now trying to figure out a way to move on.
That was made a little easier when a certain God of Thunder made his interest known to you. Thor was sweet, charming, and a little goofy. Not to mention handsome, with his blonde hair and sky blue eyes.
He’d made an effort to woo you not long after you’d parted from Bucky, and you’d informed him that the breakup was hard for you and that you couldn’t really do something new right now. Thor had been surprisingly understanding, and even took to just being friends quite well. Granted, he was still flirty, but he knew where you both stood and was always happy to lend an ear when you needed one.
He turned out to be just the friend you needed.
From the outside looking in, none of the others thought it was ‘just friends,’ especially when Thor would openly show his interest in you. Especially to a certain Super Soldier.
Bucky was painfully aware of what was going on between you and Thor even though he desperately tried not to be.
His super hearing picked up on the soft laughter you and the god would share, on the hushed whispers you’d exchange late over a mug of coffee when you thought everyone was asleep. His every fiber was attuned to you, and he couldn’t help but fixate on your presence.
You were like gravity to him, and he always found himself near you when he knew he should be as far as humanly possible. He saw the little looks you shared when Thor would compliment you, noticed your shy smile when the god would enter the room. He could tell that Thor was winning you over slowly but surely.
He couldn’t fucking stand it.
So it wasn’t a big surprise when he shipped off on the next mission possible.
You worried, your heart still set on loving him, but you tried to pay it little mind. And after a few days, it actually helped. You felt better, found yourself smiling more. You were beginning to move forward.
That was, until the jet was reported missing. Then Bucky was all anyone could talk about in the tower.
Thor tried his best to keep you in the dark about most of what was going on, and it wasn’t hard seeing as you were just a rather good strategist and not a serious Avenger. You were only really included in skimming over preplanned attacks and making sure they hadn’t missed anything critical.
But word still spread, and worry was ever present.
Needless to say, it was very strange when Mr. Stark called you into a private meeting with himself and two other of the elite team.
“Y/N,” He spoke softly in the kind of tone that lets you know that whatever he says next is going to ruin your whole week. “There’s a situation with Barnes.”
You frowned, eyebrows scrunching at him from where you sat at the rather empty end of the long black table. “I’m confused. Bucky and I broke up months ago. Why are you talking to me about it?”
Steve, who you’d befriended while dating his best pal, looked at you with poorly concealed pity from his seat next to Stark. “Because we know he still means a lot to you and that you’re our best hope in this situation.”
That didn’t make you feel better about whatever was going on at all. “What do you mean ‘this situation?’” You eyed them both, before dragging your eyes over to Doctor Banner who hadn’t done much more than stare at you with a concerned expression bordering on panic.
Stark pressed his fingers to his forehead, “Barnes got triggered on his mission and has infiltrated the tower. We have reason to believe he’s after you.”
You gaped at him. That didn’t make any sense. You weren’t important, at least not as important as one of The Avengers. “Me? Why me?”
“We’ve silently shut the building down and we’re working on evacuating the floors without anyone freaking out.” Tony went on, ignoring your questions, “He doesn’t know that we’re aware he’s here, and we’re trying to keep it that way.” Tony motioned towards a monitor, and the image of Bucky popped up on the screen.
Only he was in your room, and he was dragging his fingers over the picture of the two of you that was perched on the nightstand. They way his fingers smoothed over the glass, the slight pinch in his brows as if calculating instead of recalling. It was like he’d never seen it before in his life. Like he had no connection to the image of himself.
It was a picture he had taken, his arm extended and a smile on his face with your lips pressed to his cheek. You had meant to take it down and stuff it in the box under your bed with all the other memories you had hid from sight, but it was just too painful. You needed something to hold onto.
You watched through the screen as he moved around your room, taking note of certain things and taking careful precautions to ensure that anything he moved was set right back in place. It was eerie to watch a man who was once so comfortable in your space tread with so much hesitance. Like it was the first time he’d been in the space all over again.
“Y/N.” It was Steve’s gentle timbre that brought your attention away from the screen this time. He tried to smile, though it was clearly forced. “We need you to lure him down towards the lower levels. We have to get him to a room where we can better contain him. If he finds out we know he’s back and not… him, then he could snap.”
“You want to use me as bait? For the Winter Soldier?” You stared at them both with wide eyes, panic blooming in your chest. “This is insane!”
Steve sighed, “Y/N… Bucky told me about the incident that happened in the beginning of your relationship.”
Your attention zeroed in on the blonde’s words, your breath hitching.
“He told me what could’ve happened… and what didn’t.”
You walked down the corridor of the Stark tower office floor heading back towards your desk from a late night research meeting with a few of your coworkers. You had decided to stay later than the others so that you could collect and organize the information you needed for the meeting with Mr. Stark the following morning. It was very late, and you were tired, the heels you wore had begun to irritate the soles of your feet hours before.
You clutched the files you collected in your arms, heels clicking on the glossy floors and echoing into the dimly lit corridor. So dim that you didn't see the silhouette of the man standing just feet from you until it was too late.
You only saw a flash of silver before the door beside you was torn open and you were roughly shoved inside. Cleaning supplies clattered onto the floor, spilling liquids over your feet as you cried out. A hand clamped over your mouth, and your head hit the wall with a thunk.
Stormy blue eyes stared at you, cold and unfeeling. Eyes you had seen just days before smiling at you and filled with life.
Your lips moved to say his name against the cool metal of his hand, but his grip on your face was nearly bruising. You could only stare back in fear and attempt to press your body further from him.
He didn't speak, only stared at you and kicked the door to the closet shut.
Fear was a living thing in your stomach, writhing as his eyes snaked down to your red heels and back up again. His head tilted to the side, as if he was trying to remember something. But his eyes remained cold and unrelentingly empty. His flesh hand came up to press a finger threateningly to his lips.
‘Quiet.’
You weren't stupid enough to scream, not with the way he was looking at you, with how close he was. When he removed his hand, you did exactly as he wanted. Silence hung in the small closet, suffocating you. Would he kill you? What did he want? Why hadn't he killed you already?
The cool metal of his palm slipped further down, wrapping around your throat and pressing against your thundering pulse. Your head pounded along with it, and a foggy feeling settled over your mind.
But your lungs still filled with air, and you remained aware. The pressure of his hand was ever present, but it was light enough not to cause real damage... Almost like he didn't want to hurt you.
His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the movement catching your eyes. His body leaned forward, his nose pressing into your neck and his warm breath hitting your skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake, and that lick of fear heightened again. He was acting so strangely, and the longer it went on the more unsettling it was.
When he pulled away, there was a heat in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A hunger, and… and recognition.
“Hello, Beloved.”
“We know that he didn’t hurt you, and that he displayed… certain feelings towards you.” Steve’s voice brought you out of the memory, dragging you back to the reality at hand.
The one where he wants you to put yourself smack dab in the path of the Winter Soldier.
“You’re serious about this?” You blink up at him, trying to gauge if he was joking or not. Level headed as Steve was, you trusted him with your life. But this? This was terrifying and completely unexpected. Ridiculously dangerous.
“It’s the only nonviolent way we can think of. And we’re almost certain there’s no high risk for you.” Steve tried to give you a reassuring smile, tried to hide the hint of unease that shone in his tense shoulders.
“You’ve all lost your mind.” You laugh, sighing and raising your chin. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Apparently, so had you.
You stared at the metal doors of the elevator, your heart pounding with each toll of the floors passing. This was probably—no, was— the riskiest thing you’d ever done in your life. You trusted Steve and Mr. Stark, but your brain was trained to find the flaws in plans like this. And so many things could go wrong.
“It’s okay, Y/N.” Steve said calmly into your ear, startling you. You’d forgotten they’d given you the earpiece. “I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll guide you through the compound and make sure you stay out of danger.”
You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if they could see you.
“Bucky is leaving your room. We’re going to drop you off in the commons area of your floor. All you have to do is make some noise and then head for the stairwell. Just listen to me, and I’ll get you through this.” Steve sounded so confident in your ear, but it did little to soothe the nerves.
The elevator leveled out, and the doors quietly opened. The large living room opened up before you, unnervingly bright and welcoming despite the danger you knew lurked just down the hall. You stepped out onto the carpet, walking towards the kitchen. Your palms sweat, heart pounding, as you made your way up to the cabinets.
You just had to make some noise. Easy, right?
But your body wouldn’t move.
“Y/N.” Steve’s voice called in your ear again, gently coaxing you from where he watched the cameras. “Make some noise, and then head for the stairs.”
You swallowed, nodding again, and reached with shaky hands towards the cabinet. You grabbed a bowl, and hesitantly set it down on the granite counter. The echoing ‘pok’ of the ceramic felt too loud in your ears, like a gunshot.
“Good, now move quickly. He’s just down the hall headed your way.”
The words sent a chill down your spine… and something else followed. Something you’d never felt before.
You headed towards the stairs, but your feet felt like lead weights. Like you couldn’t move fast enough even though you knew you were going as fast as you could.
But you could hear the faintest scuff of boots coming behind you and the sound sent your heart into a frenzy.
You raced down the stairs, tripping a few times before righting yourself and continuing your decent down towards the lower levels. Your floor was four levels up from ground level, which meant you had six floors in total to descend before you could get to the containment floor.
Six flights of stairs being chased by The Winter Soldier. A superhuman man who was definitely faster than you, and probably wanted to do something terrible to you. Like a wolf hunting a sheep.
Oh God.
The thought only served to spur the panic rising in you. You kicked up your speed when the door slammed behind you, footsteps pounding after you as the dark silhouette of Bucky Barnes rounded the stairs two flights above.
He took the stairs four at a time, his long legs swallowing up the distance between you. The panic clawed its way up your throat in a strangled cry, and the sound just seemed to quicken his pace.
“I’m not fast enough!” You tried to keep your voice even, tried to keep it quiet in the echoing stairwell so that the soldier behind you would hear.
“You’re almost there, Y/N. Just keep up the pace. Two flights left and—“ but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.
You watched in shocked horror as Bucky’s figure leapt over the railing and plummeted towards the ground. He dropped several flights before his arm snapped out and wrapped around the railing. The sound of metal hitting metal rang out around you as the railing dipped under the crushing pressure.
He hauled himself back onto the stairs just before you. Those cold eyes found yours, dark hair framing sharp features, painting him into something primal. Something wild.
That feeling pounded through you again, skittering along your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck. You still couldn’t place it, not with him stepping towards you with a look that promised violence.
You heard Steve’s voice ordering something over the earpiece, but it was distant. It became clearer a moment later. “We’ve got a team heading in. Just… just hang in there.”
You swallowed, but your throat had gone dry in the presence of the assassin before you. His eyes held you in place as his towering form finally stopped a stair below you, leveling with you face to face. So close you could count the stitches in the Kevlar of his suit.
You felt your body shaking, heard your heart thundering in your ears as your chest rose and fell with each short breath you managed to drag into your lungs.
And he watched every move you made.
His head titled to the side exactly like it’d done the first time you’d been trapped with him. His gaze never left you, eyes wandering over your face and heaving chest before that faint look of recognition settled into those hollow eyes.
And then that heat you’d seen before consumed them.
He stepped forward, and you answered with a step back. For each one he took, you pedaled backwards until your body was plastered against the wall. When you tried to flee back up the stairs, his metal hand planted itself against the wall inches from your head.
You were utterly trapped.
Rough Russian left his lips in the softest whisper. The sound was the same as you’d heart him say before, though you didn’t understand it.
Not until now, as the earpiece Steve had given you translated his words as he spoke them.
“Hello again, Beloved.”
Those blue eyes bored into yours, as his other hand came up to brush your cheek with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of.
“He’s kept me from you for so long.” Bucky’s body leaned forward, caging you against the wall. His metal hand remained pressed against the wall beside you, and the other dragged across the skin of your neck and shoulder in an almost reverent manner.
Bucky’s— no, this wasn’t Bucky. This was the part of Bucky he kept farthest from you. This was a man known for cruel, unimaginable violence. An assassin known by reputation around the world by both hero and criminal alike and feared by all. This was the Winter Soldier.
Winter’s lips brushed your jaw, stubble tickling the column of your throat as his voice rumbled against your skin. “Kept you to himself. Never let me touch you. Worried I’d damage you, Beloved. Couldn’t see you needed me.”
His teeth nipped at your skin, and a shiver rolled down your spine in answer. That feeling tugged at your mind again, spurred by his words. But still, you couldn’t place it. Not with your mind consumed by his statements and barely contained yearning.
When his head lifted to find your eyes again, the fingers of his right hand tangled themselves in your hair and pulled hard enough to have your scalp stinging. His next words were guttural and biting, “And then he let you go.”
Winter’s grip loosened a bit, but his hold on your hair remained. “He pushed you away, and then that god tries to take you from me?” His eyes held you, demanding your utter attention as his head shook slowly, “You don’t belong to him.”
Tugging your lip between your teeth, you clenched your eyes shut. God, you wished Bucky would say that to you. Having Winter here saying these words with Bucky’s voice, Bucky’s face. Touching you with familiar hands…
Heat had begun to pool low in your belly.
The words were spoken in English. “Open your eyes.”
There was no room for objection in his voice, so you did as he said. With his jaw was set in an angry line, and those blue eyes boring into your soul, he leaned in closer. “He thinks that being with you is too dangerous, that you aren’t safe with… with us.”
“What?” Your heart hammered in your chest at his words. It was the first real reason as to why Bucky had broken up with you.
Those silvery blue eyes zeroed on your lips as he spoke again. “He thinks we can’t protect you, that I’ll hurt you. That somehow being further from you keeps you safe from what comes with being what we are.” His metal hand left the wall in favor of brushing over your lower lip and trailing the cool tips of his fingers down to the dip of your breasts and back up to the column of your throat. “I’d never hurt you, not the way he has. Not if you didn’t want it.”
“W-what do you mean?” You just knew he was picking up on how your heart beat harder as his fingers trailed over your skin. Or the way you kept shifting on your feet to stave off the heat thrumming in your veins with an all too familiar want blooming and begging for his hands to explore more.
The faintest hint of a smile graced his face as he gave your hair another gentle tug, then loosened his grip once more. “You like this. I’ve seen how you react with him. How you quietly treasure the marks he leaves on your skin even when he feels nothing but guilt.” That metal hand slipped over your throat again and pressed on your neck exactly as he’d done the first time you’d seen Winter. Your head spun at the pressure, but you could breathe easily under the cool press of his palm as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “I see how badly you wish he’d touch you with this hand,” he squeezed your neck and loosened it quickly, “How badly you want those marks. How badly you need me.”
You had no words. Nothing to say as he wrung out the truth you’d thought was hidden from him— from Bucky.
Bucky was notorious for avoiding any situation that would make him use the metal arm. He would much rather let it hang there, or act as if he didn’t have it at all. That included when the two of you would get intimate. He never dared to bring it anywhere near you no matter how many times you’d reminded him it was fine, that you weren’t afraid of it. He outright refused to allow it to touch your delicate skin, to let such a catalyst for agony so close to something as precious as you.
Winter knew that you’d secretly craved to feel the cold metal in contrast to his warm skin when he held you. He knew that you would always find it more satisfying when Bucky would lose himself and get rough with you when things got heated. How his flesh hand would leave bruises on your thighs or hips to keep you steady as he thrust himself deeper.
Just the thought had you aching, and here was Bucky’s darker half offering you everything you’d ever wanted.
You were losing your fucking mind.
“You’re wrong,” you whispered, but the words were flimsy and meaningless. He knew the truth, but that didn’t mean you had to say it aloud.
His metal fingers dug into your jaw, his grip near bruising as he tilted your head up to level your eyes with his. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dollface.” His lips were a hairs-width away, his warm breath fanning over your face.
The scent of him was intoxicating, muddling your mind even further with heady leather and metal invading your nose. The hint of that aftershave you’d missed so much since Bucky broke your heart.
Winter was tearing you apart at the seams.
“Please,” you whispered. Please what? You didn’t know. You could hardly think straight. That feeling was so strong, thrumming along with your pulse and the ache for something. Anything.
“Tell me I’m right.” He mumbled against your skin. Soft lips, a vast contrast to his rough demeanor, to the calloused hand that remained tangled in your hair, trailed down your cheek. “Tell me that you want me. Not the pathetic excuse for a god, or him. That you want me.”
His metal hand released your face, drifting over your neck and dragging over the left side of your chest. He circled once, thumbing over your nipple with a knowing look filled with every sinful promise known to man.
And then he went lower and lower…
His fingers caught the waistband of your leggings, the chill of his fingers raised goosebumps across your stomach, only serving to worsen that burning need.
“Doll,” a command and a question wrapped in one word.
All you had to do was admit your darkest most guarded secret. Confess, and he would give you what you wanted most. What Bucky was too afraid to do.
You opened your mouth, the words tumbling out as he gave your hair another tug.
“I want you.”
That smirk grew just a fraction more, his fingers slipping past your waistband and toying with the hem of your panties.
Fuck, did you wish you’d gone commando today.
“Who am I?” He asked, teeth nipping down your neck hard enough to know they’d leave marks. “I want you to say it, Y/N.”
Those fingers slipped further, rolling over your aching clit in a teasing stroke before he pulled them away again.
If he wasn’t a literal assassin, you’d consider strangling him.
“For fucks sake,” you gripped his arm, your voice unfamiliar in your own ears, ragged and broken. “Winter, please.”
He didn’t waste time, deft, cool fingers dipping into your core with confidence. Soothing that aching heat.
Fuck.
His thumb circled slow as he pumped his fingers, his mouth leaving wet kisses along your jaw up to your lips where he paused long enough to catch a glimpse of your face. You knew you looked like an utter mess, but those blue eyes showed nothing but twisted delight. He leaned forward and tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, bitting hard enough to make you groan.
Winter’s answering grunt of approval urged you further towards the edge of oblivion those perfect metal fingers were working you towards.
God you were so close. Each movement, every touch and bruise he left on your skin pushing you closer and closer. Just a bit more, a fraction more and you’d—
His fingers wrenched away, gone in an instant.
Your eyes, closed from the pleasure just moments ago, snapped open just before the doors to the stairway above and below you burst open. Floods of agents filed through the doors, and a gun fired.
The sharp sound echoed in the confined space making you flinch. Winters back pressed you against the wall, a solid shield of muscle keeping you out of harms way.
Then the weight was too heavy. His body crushing you as he slumped toward the floor. You screamed, immediately thinking the worse as your eyes searched his form in a panic.
But you found no blood, thank God.
“He’s fine, Y/N.”
Steve’s hand on your shoulder had you flinching back, head snapping to his suit clad form. “The gun—“
“It’s just a tranq. I promise, Bucky will be fine.” His face was the picture of practiced reassurance.
A horde of agents rushed forward and cuffed Winter’s hands and dragged his unconscious body out of the stairwell and further towards the confinement room. Steve remained with you, his eyes flicking to your neck a few times and checking you over to make sure no serious damage had been done.
When you’d gotten yourself back to your room away from the prying eyes and the relentless questions, the reality of what had happened slammed into you.
You just let the Winter Soldier finger you in a fucking stairwell.
And you liked it.
Plunging your fingers into your hair, you took a shaky breath. What the fuck were you thinking? Had you lost your damn mind? Bucky broke up with you three months ago! You were done; over, moving on. He could remember this, for Christ sake! How would you explain it?
Panic writhed in your stomach, but so did the faint ache of need that reminded you of what had just happened mere minutes ago.
The feeling of his metal hand on your skin, the feeling of those fingers working you perfectly and the pressure of his bruising grip.
And that feeling that you couldn’t place.
But now you had a word for it.
From the thrum of your heart as he chased you down the stairs, the promise of violence and sinful pleasure in his eyes. The roughness of his actions…
It was the thrill.
You liked the chase. You liked how rough he was. The delicious blend of panic and pleasure.
And he’d been interrupted before you got the release you’d craved. That you needed.
Frustration boiled to the forefront of your mind, a dozen different strategies with it.
He’d made you confess your darkest secret only to leave you high and dry.
And damn him if he wasn’t going to finish what he started.
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screampied · 1 year ago
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“. . do you . . know what happens after death, sweetheart?”
the words that slipped out of nanami’s lips struck you right in the very depths of your heart.
it stung—a sharp prod that made the very crevices of your mouth twitch. his hands, his once warm and loving hands started to grow abnormally cold. frigid to where you even started to adapt to his chilled temperature.
“no why….” you started, feeling your throat tighten. “why are you asking me that, kento?” you sniffle, tightly interlocking your fingers with his.
he stares at you with a warm smile spreading across his lips.
regardless of his current position, peacefully resting his back against the ground—his inevitable fate had finally caught up to him.
nanami’s breathing patterns changed significantly. everything was so loud, all he could make out through his peripherals was splotches of blur and your pretty worried face. “. . because,” he continues, and his speech was so slow. you could tell he was trying to get every word out, every syllable, every vowel. just for you and only you. “i’m about to find out, my love . .”
your irises focused on him. nothing else, no one else—just him.
you’ve never seen him like this. so pale, so weak, so . . . scared.
his pure emotion, it showed in his eyes. his perfect brown eyes that you never failed to get lost in. for the first time in what was probably forever, nanami felt…scared. he tried his best to conceal it in front of you though. but even his best wasn’t enough, because you probably knew him better than you knew yourself.
“don’t say things like that, kento,” you mutter, already feeling that annoying plump knot rise up in your throat. your breath was shaky, tremble after tremble. “you’re fine. you can get up. we can get up.”
he knew when you said we, you implied that you’d both be walking away together — hand in hand, like in those stupid cheesy movies you’d watch with him every sunday after he gets off work. but alas, reality was quite harsh to face. an even more incredible tough pill to swallow. nanami knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
it was irksome, you had to squeeze your eyes shut to prevent a single tear to roll down your cheek.
nanami’s eyelids were hanging on by a thread, just barely open. he was trying—trying so hard to hang on, a small pout curls against his lips before he huffs out a single breath.
“ah . . forgive me, you’re right,” he says, his thumb swiftly stroking the front of your hand. a single tear escapes past your lower damp eyelid. even his voice sounded different. a voice you grew to love, so sweet and protective. it now sounded incredibly tired. you could hear a slight wheeze between breaths of his. “hey, don’t cry. don’t do that, look at me.”
his voice was so soft, you sniffled—despising the irritating tears that started to run down both sides of your temples. if it was anything nanami couldn’t stand, it was that he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life shed such sweet pitiful tears for him.
you looked at him, watching his eyelids struggle to stay open for you. everything ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own anymore. it was an indescribable feeling from when he got struck, laying against the slick cold floor of the shibuya train station.
“. . d-don’t leave me,” was all you managed to say, your lips was trembling, your heart pounded and you didn’t wanna say goodbye just yet. “kento, i need you.”
“hm? what are you mumblin’ about, sweetheart? ‘m right here.” his voice, it sounded happier.
you furrowed your eyebrows, now finding yourself buried into nanami’s bare chest, damp chin pressing against his pecs and all.
you were here safe and sound, snuggled up all against him, as you should be. it took you a long while to calm down, he’s staring at you with a soft loving gaze—a brief look of concern before you mumble out a, “..kento? are you okay?”
“why wouldn’t i be, baby?” nanami hums, a soft thumb stroking your back. with a relaxed breath, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss near the very tip of your forehead. his touch was forevermore soothing, a touch you never wanted to forget.
you let off a jittery sigh of relief, finally coming to the conclusion that it was another one of your horrid nightmares. you had nothing to worry about.
he was fine.
you were fine,
everything was fine.
. . is what you kept telling yourself.
nanami never told you those words, he didn’t kiss the tip of your forehead or stroke your back lovingly whilst staring into your eyes. the only true unbearable truth was that nanami was gone.
he was gone, and his last words weren’t even “i love you,” or “i’m sorry.” on his fatal dying breaths, nanami’s last words to you while squeezing your hand, sliding a ring into your palm, he rasps out a breathy, “will . . you marry me?”
but before you could tell him yes, he was already gone.
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ari-ana-bel-la · 2 months ago
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Heyyyyyy I love ur page sm can you do a Oscar and lily fic with a teen daughter where she is a ballet dancer and hurt herself in one of the classes?
(English is not my first language so sorry if it has any mistakes:))
A Tender Step
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Yn’s toes ached as she stood in the center of the studio, her body poised and her mind focused on the movements that had been ingrained in her for years. The bar was still in front of her, and the mirrors around her reflected her every movement. But today, there was something different about it—something that gnawed at the back of her mind. It wasn’t the usual discomfort of a long practice, nor was it the strain of perfecting her pliés or pirouettes. It was something far more painful, something that had been quietly creeping up for days, and now it was becoming impossible to ignore.
Her feet, which had always been her greatest tool and her greatest source of pride, were beginning to betray her. She could feel the pain in her arch, but she forced herself to push through it, telling herself it was just the normal ache of a dancer’s life. She continued, focusing all her energy on perfecting the next movement, but the pain in her feet became sharper with each passing second. Her toes throbbed as though they were on fire, a deep burn that was unlike anything she had experienced before.
It wasn't until she finished her leap across the floor, landing gracefully with the elegance of a swan, that she could no longer ignore it. As she slowly lowered her foot, she felt the searing pain shoot up her leg. Her body froze for a moment, a small gasp escaping her lips. The redness in her feet was alarming, and she instinctively pulled her pointe shoes off to inspect the damage.
The sight made her stomach churn.
Blood. Dark red and pooled along the fabric of her tights, creeping across the curve of her arch and into her toes. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she instinctively sat down, her head spinning.
“Yn?” Her dance teacher, Claire, appeared by her side instantly, her tone calm but firm. Claire had always been a steady presence in the studio, her experience as a ballerina and teacher making her a reliable guide. “Let’s take a look at those feet.”
Yn winced as Claire gently took her foot in her hands, her voice soothing as she inspected the damage. “You’ve overworked them. Your skin has worn away under the pressure, and the blood... well, that’s a bit more concerning. We need to get them wrapped up.”
Yn nodded silently, her breath still shallow as the reality of what had happened began to set in. She hadn’t meant to push herself this far. She had just wanted to keep improving. It was a familiar feeling, the constant drive to be better, to push through the pain for the love of the art. But she had never imagined that this would be the cost.
Claire, never one for dramatics, quickly retrieved the first aid kit from the corner of the studio, unwrapping the bandages with precision. “You’re going to need to rest these feet for a while, Yn,” she said quietly, her tone laced with concern. “You’ve been practicing too hard without giving your feet the attention they need. No more pointe work for a while. Do you hear me?”
Yn nodded, unable to speak. She felt embarrassed, a rush of self-consciousness flooding her. She had always been the dancer who gave everything, who worked harder than anyone else. But now, it felt like her own body was betraying her.
Claire finished wrapping her feet carefully, making sure the bandages were secure. “I think you should call your parents. Let them know what happened. You should probably go to a doctor to get these looked at. No point in waiting.”
It was only then that Yn realized how dizzy she felt, the pale feeling creeping through her limbs. She felt lightheaded, as if she might pass out at any moment.
“Alright, Yn. Take it easy, okay?” Claire said, her voice soft but firm. “Rest here, and I’ll call your parents for you.”
Yn didn’t protest as she pulled out her phone, fingers trembling slightly as she dialed her mom’s number. The screen blinked a few times before the call connected. Her mom’s voice immediately came through, filled with the warmth and love that always made Yn feel safe.
“Hello, sweetie! How’s practice going?” Lily’s voice was chipper, unaware of the trouble brewing on the other end.
“Mom,” Yn’s voice cracked as she spoke, her usual calm demeanor slipping. “I... I hurt myself. My feet... they’re really bad, and there’s blood.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of Lily’s voice growing alarmed. “Oh, sweetheart, where are you? We’re coming right now. Just stay calm, okay?”
“I’m at the studio, in the main room,” Yn whispered, glancing down at her feet again. She could feel the tears welling up, but she fought them back. She hated feeling like this—weak, vulnerable, and unsure of herself.
“Alright, we’ll be there in a few minutes,” Lily said. “Don’t move. Claire’s with you, right?”
“Yeah,” Yn replied, her voice steadying just a bit as she felt the reassuring presence of her teacher beside her. “She’s here.”
“Good. Just breathe. We’ll be there soon.”
The call ended, and Yn leaned back against the barre, her feet elevated, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that still pulsed through them. She took a few slow, steadying breaths, trying to keep herself composed. The tears she had been fighting began to blur her vision, and she wiped them away quickly, refusing to let anyone see her break down.
A few moments later, her friend, Emma, knelt beside her, concern etched across her face. “Yn, you look so pale,” Emma said softly, her hand resting on Yn’s arm. “You should rest a little. Your face is so white. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Yn gave her a weak smile. “I’ll be fine. My parents are on their way.”
“I know, but still... maybe just close your eyes for a second?” Emma’s tone was gentle, her voice like a soft melody. “You don’t look good.”
Yn’s body felt like lead, but she nodded, letting her eyes flutter shut as she leaned back against the mirror. It was hard to shake the exhaustion from her limbs, but she was grateful for the reprieve from the searing pain in her feet. For a moment, it was just quiet—the hum of the studio and the rhythmic breathing of her friend beside her.
Minutes passed, and soon enough, the sound of a car pulling into the parking lot echoed through the windows. Yn’s heart gave a small jump, knowing that her parents were finally here. They had been the ones to support her through every step of her dance journey, from her first class at three years old to now, as a teenager pushing herself to the limit.
Oscar’s voice reached her first. “Yn! Sweetheart, are you okay?” He rushed into the room, his eyes scanning the scene, his worry palpable. He immediately came to her side, gently kneeling down and pulling her into his arms.
Yn’s heart ached at the feel of her father’s embrace. She had always been the strong one, the one who kept a composed face no matter what, but right now, she just wanted to be held, to feel safe.
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to hurt myself. I just wanted to keep going, and now look at my feet...”
Oscar’s hands were gentle as he brushed the hair away from her face, his voice soft but firm. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Yn. You were pushing yourself because you love what you do, and that’s something to be proud of. But we need to take care of you now, okay?”
Lily appeared in the doorway then, a concerned expression on her face as she held a bag with Yn’s things. “How is she?” Lily asked, walking toward them.
“She’s okay. Just a bit shaken,” Oscar replied, lifting Yn carefully into his arms. “Let’s get you to the car, sweetheart.”
Yn let herself relax in her father’s arms, knowing she was safe. The drive to the doctor’s office was quick, but for Yn, it felt like an eternity. She kept her eyes closed most of the time, leaning against the window, the cool glass soothing against her warm skin. Her parents exchanged quiet words in the front seat, but Yn barely heard them. Her thoughts were lost in a haze of pain, worry, and the overwhelming sense that she had somehow failed herself.
When they arrived at the doctor’s office, Oscar and Lily remained by Yn’s side, just as they had promised. The doctor, a calm woman with short brown hair, took one look at Yn’s feet and immediately led them to an examination room.
“You’ve got some serious damage here,” the doctor said, her voice calm but serious. “It looks like a combination of overuse and improper care. We’ll need to clean these up, and you’ll be on rest for a while.”
Yn nodded, a lump in her throat. It felt so surreal to be in this position—laying on a doctor’s table instead of dancing across the studio floor.
Oscar and Lily stayed close by, holding her hands, their support unwavering as the doctor carefully cleaned and bandaged Yn’s feet. The process felt long, but eventually, it was over. The doctor gave them instructions for aftercare and advised Yn to take at least two weeks off from dancing, longer if the pain persisted.
Once they were back in the car, Oscar turned to Yn with a soft smile. “You’ve done well, sweetheart. You’re going to heal, and when you do, we’ll get you back in the studio. But right now, your health comes first.”
Yn’s eyes filled with tears once again. “I don’t want to stop dancing, Dad. It’s everything to me.”
“I know,” Lily said softly, her voice full of understanding. “But sometimes, taking a break is the best thing you can do for yourself. We’re proud of you, Yn. No matter what.”
Yn smiled through her tears, grateful for her parents’ endless love and support. With them by her side, she knew she could face anything.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you. I also now write for Alex Albon and Pierre Gasly.
-🩷🎀
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occamstfs · 9 months ago
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Man Of Your Dreams
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Wallflower Dylan is gifted a new psychedelic from his friend. Used to watching frat bros from afar he finds the pill seems to affect far more than his mind.
Intended this to be plot light but so it goes! Probably going to take this week off to avail myself to other authors entering my Viral Transformation Challenge! The next story will likely be my own take on the theme so look forward to that next week alongside those from a litany of other stellar TF writers! Until then! -Occam
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Dylan was fairly straight-laced, going into his senior year of university he hadn’t strayed much at all from class besides tagging along with his friend from high school to some of the more boisterous frat parties. Said friend Tony was quite more of a wild child, often invited himself because he was the source of some of the more illicit substances to be found at these parties. He’d invite Dylan whenever he’d need a more sober pair of eyes, namely if he was planning on rolling or otherwise getting high on his own supply. Despite his mild manner, Dylan always hopped on the chance, going to ragers was supposed to be part of the whole college deal right? And besides, he didn’t mind the chance to ogle brazen men he would under normal circumstances be fearful of making eye contact with.
Knowing of his friend’s meek disposition, and repressed hunger for the most vulgar of men, when Tony hears of a crazy new psychedelic on the market he has a feeling Dylan might finally let his hair loose. Reviews say the stuff makes reality feel like a waking dream. Anything seems possible and to your body it might as well be. Steamier sources swear that dreaming about sex on the stuff is even better than the real thing. Tony, never concerned about side effects of his material, gets straight to hitting up the usual channels to see what he can get and is able to scrounge up a single pill of the stuff. He wonders if he should try it out himself first before deciding he owes his friend at least first dibs.
Dylan is floored at how quickly he agreed to taking the pill. After initially being standoffish at Tony’s suggestion that he use it to fuck frat bros in his mind, once his friend started explaining what he’s heard Dylan couldn’t pass up the opportunity to really live out his fantasy. He’s not going to outgrow being a wallflower, nor is at all confident that any of the performatively masculine men would fuck him. Staring at the pill the only thing holding him back is Tony’s vapid instructions. ‘Just have a blast dude, fuck your way through those bros hah!’ Dylan’s asking about the side effects falls on deaf ears as Tony just crassly humps the air to try to convince his friend to go out on a limb. Despite his qualms and fears, and the lack of confidence inspired by Tony’s actions, Dylan feels sure that his friend wouldn’t give him something actually potentially dangerous.
Holding tight to that misplaced confidence, as soon as Tony departs Dylan pours himself a glass of water and chokes the pill down. The small tablet leaves a metallic taste in his mouth, quickly hidden by the copious amount of saliva and bile starting to rise in the back of his throat as he immediately feels the urge to vomit. Man of will despite appearances, he keeps it down and just as soon scowls as he thinks about the lack of preparation offered by his friend and prepares to tear into Tony as soon as the trip is over. Standing up he feels the room spinning around and murmurs in shock, “su- surely it’s shouldn- work this… fas-” He stumbles over to his bed and falls face down as he feels his body growing sweaty.
Before his well-practiced anxiety response can rise his mind is flooded with every pleasant hormone it’s able to produce. Every muscle in his body tenses and he feels his cock struggle to force itself erect in the awkward position he’s fallen in. Dylan moans as every sensation sends signals so intense and potent that his mind can barely maintain consciousness. Indeed he finds himself struggling to even hold his eyes open as his eyelids grow weighty. Even perfunctory bodily functions feel erotic as he begins to fade, the burning of cold air in his stretching lungs, the sound of his own heartbeat and the warmth of blood coursing through his veins. Drool immediately pools under his head as he crests into a stuporous induced unconsciousness, far too unprepared for what awaits him in his trip, and the new world he is to encounter afterwards.
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Dylan is sitting in a chair across from a man he knows too well and not at all. Face to face with Ben Harrington, president of Beta Delta Alpha, Dylan has to push down the immediate rush of fear. Taking a breath he reminds himself that this is a dream, one that Tony swears he should have pretty lucid control over. As the president stands opposed, leaning on nothing he flexes his arms and the pastel button up Dylan usually sees him clad in changes into a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He smirks as he pushes sunglasses up his face and speaks in a tone intoxicated, under the influence of nothing but Dylan himself. His raspy voice sends a shiver down the meek man’s spine as he feels himself unable to retreat, “So, uhh, Dylan is it?” 
Approaching enough to touch him, Ben puts an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, exposing his clearly unwashed pit. Dylan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes closed from the burning over-stimulation of this man baring down on him. Still, from the sticky breath blowing across the face it's clear he is continuing to inch even closer, “You want me do you?” Dylan gulps as the man gets even closer, Ben’s lips almost touching his own, “Or do you just want to be me?” This takes Dylan out of it as he steps back away from the imposing man. Eyes opening he tries to manipulate the scene as Tony implied he should be able to. The Ben of his mind tilts his head and tsks, “‘Fraid you’re not the one in charge here after all.”
Ben closes the gap once more and throws his arm around the easily manhandled Dylan pulling his body against his own sweat stained form. He smirks and leans in directly to whisper something into the dreamer’s ear, “and if you do really wanna fuck me, well. You’re gonna have to become something more my type. Yeah?” Dylan blinks in surprise, he’s heard of bad trips and the like but something seems decidedly wrong here. Before he’s able to come to any cogent conclusion the dream Ben reaches down his free hand into Dylan’s pants. His sweaty hand instantly wraps around the smaller man’s balls and squeeze. Dylan hasn’t a chance to scream in shock he feels himself lose control. Of his body, his mind, and the world around him as he begins to fall back.
He’s humping the air as he’s falling into an abyss. He doesn’t feel the fear that this descent should evoke. Usually nightmares that turn this way immediately blast him back to consciousness, instead it fills him with adrenaline that only heightens the delight coursing out from his cock. Sure that he’s now laying face down in a pool of his own semen in the real world, Dylan does what he can to focus on the pleasure as intended. 
The sound of wind tearing past him makes him unable to hear his moaning screams as his clothes are shredded by the searing gale. Rapt in delight, the blaring gusts begin to slow. Air caresses him like a full body hug and suddenly he is deposited onto soft ground. Dylan doesn’t quite repose as his body continues convulsing. Cum begins to sprinkle down on him from the plethora of loads released during his descent and he finally finds wherewithal to paw at his crotch. Grasping at his balls he finds them unmistakably larger, “Wha?” No longer falling, Dylan opens his eyes and seems to be back in reality.
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Dylan awakens and blearily rubs his eyes with clearly semen stained hands. “Oh what the, ugh- Am I awake?” His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of a room that is decidedly not his bedroom. “Can’t be right?” Shaking the mess off his hands without a second thought he stands to his feet with a grunt and feels his cock bobbing, still impossibly rigid. His hands return to this turgid beacon before they almost happenstance fondle his balls. His sluggish mind struggles with how heavy and large they feel, nothing like the ones he has in reality. He smirks as the last words of Ben snake through his mind- “Become something more my type.” Who’d’ve thunk the president was into horndogs.”
Sniffing the air he begins to inspect the room surrounding him. Dirty clothes litter the floor and he finds a pervasive musk filling the air. Something in the back of his mind itches that there should be a can of axe around somewhere to cover it up, which he ignores for a number of reasons. He should be able to will the room to stop stinking. He certainly wouldn't do so with cheap body spray, and for the life of him he can’t bring himself to want to. Each deep breath of the stink he finds himself growing even hornier. Dylan feels his balls churning as he grasps them, he’s already cum a good number of times and yet he still craves release. 
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He imagines the firm ass of a frat brother and leans against his dresser he uncontrollably begins to hump once more. Something flickers at the back of his mind yet again and he rips into an open drawer. Throwing clothes onto the pile of dirtied garments already littering the floor, Dylan removes a fleshlight which he proceeds to make exuberant use of. No time for his mind to question why he’s suddenly a top as his cock fills the sex toy more with every grunting thrust. 
Pubes scratch against his thumb as his crotch shifts into one that would instantly render a razor unusable. Likewise hair that has never even had to be controlled on his ass begins to thicken, growing itchy as a true jungle of curls begins to flourish on both sides of his waist. Soon enough his cock grows large enough that the toy is rendered unusable, with a furrowed brow and ungrateful grunt he tosses it to his room leaving it dripping on the floor as he somehow remains just as sexually unfulfilled as when he began, “Fuck I need the real thing…”
The real thing not present Dylan looks down at his cock and gasps as he sees what has become of his package. He doesn’t have a ton of sex but he usually keeps it clean and pretty hairless down there just for his own sake. Beyond the forest of pubes thick enough to get his hand stuck in, he covers his mouth in shock as he sees a veiny cock larger than he’s ever seen on a man with the low hanging massive balls to match. He does his best to focus up on anything besides how horny he is, but as pre continues to trickle from his hardened cock that becomes increasingly difficult. He bites his lip and looks past his throbbing cock at the floor. If he puts it away perhaps it’ll quiet of its own accord.
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Dylan doesn’t pay heed to which clothes are clean or dirty as he throws on whatever best could hide his cock from his hands and mind. Nor could he notice just how far cleanliness and decency have fallen as priorities for him as he struggles to fit his package in clearly stained sweatpants. Itching at his waist as his pubes begin creeping up into a treasure trail racing to mee the spreading curls beginning to decorate his chest, his dull awareness finally notices that his whole body has begun changing. His thin arms have clearly put on powerful muscle from his mindless sessions of self-love, veins trailing down them make it difficult for him not to get straight back to masturbating at the thought of his own strength.
Similarly his eyes latch onto a chest that has somehow exploded into pecs without his knowing. Muscle that has never begun to grace his body now jiggles with every movement. He clenches his jaw hard trying to muster willpower not to give into his most basal urges, but as he feels his thighs fill the sweatpants he just threw on he wonders how long he could possibly hold out. His cluttered mind struggles to recall that he is on some kind of psychedelic trip as he fails to remember how long Tony said it would last. Instead swimming through dulling memories the voice of his, er, the frat president speaks up. “Ah god… You’re looking fucking good Big D. How’s your mind hangin’ in there?”
It takes a few moments for the words to sink in before Dylan can reply, “My, unh- mind?” His balls pulse as his eyes dash across the room while he struggles to think. God he’s been struggling to think this whole time. His cock lurches as he’s able to realize that every thought in his mind has been growing increasingly clouded. “Big D?” Dylan can’t help but smirk as his beyond impressive cock strains his sweatpants at being called Big D. He grunts as he tries to shake off the lusty delirium, “Need to chill out. Ugh. Sober up.” He hears the president tsk at him yet again, waiting with bated breath for the mans words his pecs bulge even larger on his chest. “Too late for that bro, just give in. Why have a trip into true unadulterated ecstasy when you can have a lifetime. You can finally be the man of your dreams.” 
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As soon as the words of Ben, his president, are spoken in his mind it becomes clear that Big D doesn’t even have the ability to fight back against the ever-present urges that now control his body. He tears off the sweatpants that were barely holding in there as he fully give himself to whatever is calling out for him, the drug, Ben Harrington, whatever. His body bulks beyond measure to become man enough to carry the vulgar package that lies in his crotch. He masturbates into the leg of his sweatpants torn asunder as his torso bulks up, evidence of his endless celebrations as a man of Beta Delta Alpha.
Bestial body hair begins to cover his torso as his beard grows thick and dark. The tangle of hair in his pits thickens and spreads enough that it, nor it’s dominating musk, could ever be hidden. Muscle bulges on his arms large enough to haul kegs and toss out fuckers that get to rowdy at their festivities. Beyond apathetic to manicuring his appearance as he knows he’ll have people lining up at his doorstep regardless of needless things like hygiene or cleanliness he rubs his thick sweat covered thighs and feels how sensitive every inch of his skin has become. 
He smirks as he imagines, recalls rather, how constantly he gets to enjoy the sensual opportunities offered by his new form. He’s got all he needs dangling between his thick thighs and everyone who matters already knows it. The president certainly does. Big D smirks as he thinks of their vacations together on the frat’s dime. He puts his arms behind his head and sniffs his musky pits as he lays in repose, a thick cloud of musky sweat surrounds him as he begins to hear the sound of festivities breaking out on the floor below him and someone’s fervent footsteps racing up the stairs to his den.
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Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Big D imagines that some couple is looking for an empty room with urgency. He paws at his crotch excited to join in on their fun. Instead he sees some nervous looking guy who freezes as soon as he sees the behemoth, fear in his eyes. “D-Dylan!? I- That drug, there was something, something s-” He stutters and his hands shake as Big D rolls his eyes and stands almost two heads taller than he should over Tony, one of their frat’s little party drug dealers. Still, he wouldn’t have come up here for no reason. Big D silences him with a finger and slams the door shut behind him. Tony’s brow furrows as he looks around the room in confusion. Even his perpetually drug-addled mind can tell something unreal, something impossible has happened to his friend. “That pill can’t have done this right?” Tony takes nervous breaths and Big D’s musk rapidly fills his lungs, distracting him from whatever petty issue brought him in. Who cares about concern when his small cock is beginning to rise from simply standing near the priapic titan.
Big D’s voice rumbles through Tony, making him weak at the knees, “You wanna have some fun don’t you?” The drug dealer can’t help but nod and swallow the drool pooling in his mouth as the bestial Adonis stands over him, cock dripping ever-ready for another round. Tony isn’t sure if he’s started tripping himself or what, but as he begins making out with the frat bro he finds himself not minding as memories of whoever Dylan was disappear. After all pleasure is the most important thing, and no one is better at spreading heady delight than Big D.
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jamesmcalover · 6 months ago
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we did not die that night
Simon Kalivoda x afab!reader
Warnings: (maybe slight angst???) fluff, oral sex
Summary: Reader walks in on Simon wanking in the bathroom that night.
3.7k words - not proofread!
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"Sorry! I'm sorry!" I yelled, my hands quickly shielding my eyes from the very naked body of my friend. Not only was he naked, he was clearly enjoying himself before I burst into the boys' bathroom. I was definitely not expecting someone wanking in there, to be fair. Feeling my cheeks flush, I walked back outside, shutting the door and waited until it was safe for me to go in again. A shaky breath escaped my lungs and I found myself pacing a few steps in front of the bathroom. That was weird, I thought, such an interesting time to wank. Was he turned on by that weird chick that tried to murder him with a razor blade? He said she was hot...
I looked into the empty and dark hallway of the school. It made me sick and uncomfortable standing in it all alone. Before I could panick, Simon was shouting for me.
"You can come in now!" His voice sounded muffled through the heavy door. As I pushed it open again – much slower this time – his eyes found mine. He looked embarrassed, which was weird. Simon was never embarrassed about anything. That boy was an open book.
"I'm really sorry," I said, "I should've knocked." He was wearing a blue knitted cardigan now, it probably smelled a bit musty from laying in the lost-and-found box for such a long time, but it looked pretty on him. Much better than the sweaty shirt he was wearing two days in a row that had Sam's blood on it and almost got him killed.
"It's alright. I didn't really pick the best place," he replied with a small grin. There he was again.
"I'd tell you that I haven't seen anything but I kinda did... see everything." My voice became smaller, much quieter, saying the last words. I had embarrassed him again, his big blue eyes were filled with guilt and I was desperate to loosen the uncomfortable tension in the room.
"But we might die tonight, so... you won't have to worry about that," I said. He laughed.
We did not die that night.
Sam died – for a few minutes at least – but she came back to life and all of us were questioned by the police. They didn't believe us, but they never do, do they?
A few days passed before we returned to school, back to the place where we'd tried to kill those monsters. Almost no trace of that night remained. The floors were spotless, no sign of Sam's blood, and the classroom door destroyed by the axe had already been replaced. Only the girls' bathroom was still barricaded. I didn't even want to imagine what it looked like on the inside.
Walking by the bathrooms, I wondered if Simon still thought about me bursting in on him mid-masturbation sometimes. Because I did. I tried forgetting, but the images didn't seem to fade. Everytime I closed my eyes, I saw his hand gripping his thick cock, moving up and down frantically. His head thrown back, his blonde locks slightly bouncing, mouth hanging open, panting.
I wouldn't admit it, but I had caught myself fantasising about it from time to time. I had thought about his cock in class once, it wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either. It was thick, though, and I wondered how it would feel in my hand, or my mouth even, my tongue dancing on his tip until he came on it. I wondered how his cum would taste like, what sounds me might make when he came.
When I snapped back into reality, I was praying to God no one near me was secretly able to read my mind – I wasn't even religious but I shouldn't think like that, Simon is my friend, nothing more.
I hadn't really seen him the past week. He came back to school a few days later because of an a stab wound to his stomach he'd suffered in the store that night, so I hadn't had the chance – or maybe the courage – to talk to him about what happened. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to. Of if he did.
At lunch, I quickly spotted him talking to Deena as they got their food. A band-aid covered the cut on his neck, and his lip was still a bit swollen from when he hit the ground. He probably felt badass walking down the school corridors looking like that, telling people he'd almost been brutally stabbed but managed to escape and survive.
Deena was barely hurt that night, which was unfair given she'd dragged us all into this mess. Maybe it was harsh of me to say, but if it weren't for her, I wouldn’t have been there, nearly sliced in half, all because she crashed that Sunnyvaler's car.
And to top it off, she still managed to pull Sam. I had been avoiding her, though I doubted she'd noticed. It felt as if I was made of air.
I saw Simon looking around, scanning the cafeteria, but his eyes never found mine.
A loud thud from the locker beside me made me jump, my heart leaping into my throat. It didn't take much to scare me anymore – I startled at every little noise. I turned to see Simon grinning, his usual cocky self.
"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me, shit face" I said, now relieved it was only him.
"Sorry." He said, though he wasn't. He loved scaring me. His grin widened. "Have you been avoiding me?"
"Not really." I hugged the book tighter, trying not to meet his gaze.
"You sure about that?" His tone was teasing, but there was something else there, just under the surface. When I finally met his eyes, images from that night in the bathroom started flooding my mind again. face went hot, and I was pretty sure my cheeks turned slightly red. I hoped he wouldn't notice.
"Yeah, I've just been... processing?" It sounded more like a question than a real answer.
Simon raised an eyebrow. "Processing what?" I frowned. What did he think I was trying to process?
"You know... almost getting murdered. Watching my friends almost get murdered. All that stuff."
His grin faded, replaced by something softer. For a moment he seemed like he wanted to say something serious, but instead, he leaned against the locker and shurgged. "I guess we didn't die, though."
I let out a small chuckle at his reference to what I said after I caught him. "Guess not." I said. "Do you still think about it?"
I didn't know if I meant the blood and slaughter or me seeing him wank. I was probably thinking about the latter more at this point.
"I try not to but... y'know. It's all in my head." He said. I hummed, not sure which question he gave me an answer to.
Later that night, I tossed around in my bed. It was too early to sleep, but I hated being awake. Sleep was the only escape from reality I had left – everything else made me think about what happened.
After thirty minutes of failed attempts to fall asleep, I gave up. I got up, dressed again, and brushed my hair, which had become tangled from all the tossing and turning. It was just after six, and my parents weren’t even home yet. Simon must still be at work, too, I thought.
Grabbing my keys, I stepped out of the house and wandered slowly along the streets toward the grocery store he worked at. Being alone in the streets still scared me sometimes, but it wasn’t a long walk.
The store also showed no signs of undead zombie killers. It was as if nothing had ever happened there.
As i rounded a corner into the isle, where sam had been lying dead, I came face-to-face with Simon, who looked at me in surprise.
"Y/N, I didn't expect to see you here!" He exclaimed, his voice enthusiastic but slightly higher-pitched than usual.
"I couldn't sleep," I said, my voice sounding flatter than I insisted. "Thought I'd come bother you instead."
Simon smirked, leaning on the cart he'd been pushing. "I'm always down to be bothered." But his eyes showed concern. "Are you okay though?"
I shrugged, running my fingers over the keys in my pocket. "Are any of us?"
He didn't answer right away, and for a second, the hum of fluorescent lights above us felt too loud. Finally, he said, "I get off in half an hour. Do you want me to walk you home?"
I smiled up at him. I never realised how pretty his eyes were and how cute his slightly crooked teeth made him look. "Sure. Thank you," I said.
"Wanna help me stock shelves until i'm off? It's mind-numbing, but at least you won't think about... you know." He handed me one of the cereal boxes from his cart. I hesitated but nodded. Mind-numbing sounded exactly like what I needed.
We quickly went from stocking the shelves in silence to goofing around and avoiding work until his shit ended. For a little while, it felt like things were back to normal—no awkwardness, no heaviness hanging over us. I realized how much I’d missed that.
The walk home was quieter again, but not uncomfortably so. I laughed at his bad jokes and half-hearted attempts to cheer me up.
"Thanks for walking me home," I said as we reached my door. The empty driveway implied that my parents were still at work. They worked late shifts almost every day, so the house would be dark and silent, as always.
Simon smiled. "No problem. It’s what I'm here for, right? Keeping you out of trouble."
I laughed softly, my hand lingering on the doorknob. The thought of going inside alone suddenly felt unbearable.
"Hey," I said before I could second-guess myself. "Do you want to come in? Just for a bit?"
He raised an eyebrow teasingly. "You sure? I thought your whole thing was avoiding me."
I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't avoiding you." His grin told me he didn't believe me, but I pressed on. "Anyway, my parents won't be home for a while, and I'm not ready to sit in there by myself yet."
His expression softened, and he nodded. "Alright. Lead the way, then."
As I pushed the door open and stepped into the quiet house, I realized how much I needed the company.
I led him into my bedroom and sat on my bed, as he stood awkwardly in the middle of my room, unsure of where to sit.
I let out a snort. "You can sit on my bed, Simon. You won't get cooties," I teased as I scooted further back until my back rested against the wall. Simon smirked and plopped down at the foot of my bed, sitting crisscrossed and facing me.
"Aren't you mad?" I finally asked after a few seconds of silence between us. Simon looked at me confused. "At Deena, I mean."
"Not really. Why? Are you?" He asked me and I took a deep breath, not knowing how to answer.
"Yeah."
Simon's eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn't say anything right away. He just watched me, waiting for me to explain.
"I mean… none of this would've happened if it weren't for her," I said, my voice low. "She's the one who crashed the car. She's the one who dragged us into all of this. And now…" I trailed off, struggling to put the tangled mess of my feelings into words. "I can’t stop thinking about what happened. What could've happened."
Simon nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "I get that," he said. "But… I don't know. Deena didn't exactly want this to happen, you know? She was just trying to help Sam. I guess if I'm mad at anyone, it's… those things. The witch."
"Yeah, well, you can't yell at undead monsters," I muttered.
Simon gave me a small, lopsided smile. "True. But you can yell at me if it helps."
I couldn’t help but laugh, even as my chest tightened. "I won’t."
"Okay, but seriously," he said, his tone softening. "You've got every right to be mad, but don’t let it eat you up. You survived, Y/N. That’s what matters, right?"
"You're right," I said, picking at the dry skin on my fingers until it peeled off. "I just don't understand why everyone pretends like nothing ever happened."
"People rather forget than face their trauma," Simon replied softly.
I hummed in response and lay down, the side of my face pressing against the cool pillow. Simon stayed seated at the foot of the bed, watching me.
"Can I ask you something?" I heard myself mumble. "You don't have to answer." He nodded.
"Why did you... wank? Why in the middle of all that mess?"
Simon’s eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. He didn’t look embarrassed about it anymore. He paused for a moment before speaking.
"I guess it was the adrenaline? I don't know, I think I was trying to feel normal. Everything was so messed up, and I just wanted one thing that made sense, you know?"
I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. I hadn't actually expected him to explain, let alone like this.
"I don't know if that makes sense," he added, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"It does," I said softly.
I patted the empty space next to me, inviting him to lie down beside me. The bed slightly bounced as his back hit the soft mattress. He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes darting restlessly as though they were trying to take in everything at once, never still. His hair was falling from his face, soft blonde curls pooling on on my pillow.
I reached my hand out in his direction slowly until it was in his hair. He closed his eyes as I twisted his strands around my fingers. "What are you thinking about?" I asked after a long silence.
Simon’s lips quirked up in a small smile. "Nothing and everything," he said.
His body shifted, turning to face mine. I felt his breath on my face, only inches between us now. My hand was still in his hair, but it didn't move anymore, just rested there. His Eyes roamed across my face, studying me like he was memorizing every little detail.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze lingered on my lips before flicking back to meet my eyes. "Looking," he said quietly. "You're hard to read, you know that?"
I swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the way my heart pounded in my chest. "What are you trying to read?"
Simon's lips curved into the faintest smile. "Everything you’re not saying."
I slowly leaned forward, my heart pounding in my chest, until I felt his shaky breath on my lips. I hesitated for a second, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. But he didn’t.
Closing the small gap between us, my lips brushed against his in a gentle kiss. It was soft, and over before I had the chance to overthink it.
When I pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, searching mine. The corners of his mouth twitched into a big smile before he leaned over to kiss me again. I felt his hand brushing away a strand of hair, then rest on my cheek. He pushed me on my back, slightly hovering over me now. My hands found his neck, buried in his hair once again. The second kiss was heated, fast and left me breathless.
"Fuck," I breathed when Simon pulled away for a second, only to cover my neck in kisses now. I inhaled sharply, as I had not expected that, but I wasn't irritated.
"Simon," I murmured, my voice a mix of surprise and something I couldn't quite name.
His lips paused against my skin, and he lifted his head just enough to meet my gaze. For a second, the intensity in his eyes made it hard to breathe.
"Is this okay?" He asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
I nodded, my hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. "Yeah," I whispered.
A flicker of relief crossed his face before his lips found mine again, in a short, sweet kiss, before they returned to my neck. His hands were roaming over hips, my stomach and my breasts, leaving a squeeze from time to time.
My hands slid down to his torso, gripping him as I pulled him closer. He shifted, his weight pressing against me until he was fully on top, and I could feel his boner on my hip through his pants. The images of him with his cock exposed came back and suddenly, I was hungry.
I pushed him off of my body and climbed on his, kissing him hard while I fiddled with his belt.
"Is this okay?" I asked him in between kisses and he looked at me with his big blue eyes.
"Fuck, yes," he replied. I quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off of him. It was only covered by the thin fabric of his unterwear now. I ignored the urge to touch him for a second, as I pushed his shirt up and motioning for him to take it off. He was now only wearing his socks and underwear, and I was still fully clothed. Simon pulled at the hem of my shirt, so I let him take it off, his eyes found my chest immediately. I was wearing a white bra with tiny cherries on it and usually, I would've been embarrassed, but it was different with Simon. I didn't have to be embarrassed by anything with him.
I let my hands roam over his chest briefly, before they disappeared in his briefs. He threw his head back into the pillows immediately and let out a quiet moan.
He looked like I had remembered, only laying down this time, and with my hand on his dick, instead of his own.
I moved the briefs down a little, pulling him out. His cock looked even better up close, the veins decorating it made my mouth water. I leaned my head down and thickly licked the underside of his shaft. Simon's head basically shot up to look at me.
"Fuck," he whispered, his thumb was rubbing my cheek slightly, before he buried his hand in my hair. I could feel his grip tighten with every up and down, his breath became shorter and shorter, moans and groans louder.
"Fuck, Y/N, I-" He came in my mouth, the thick and salty substance felt weird on my tongue, but not unpleasant. I quickly swallowed it and licked his tip clean before pulling of. Drool was running down my chin. I wiped it on the back of my hand. Simon's breathing was quick, his eyes heavy as he looked at me. He took my hand into his and pulled me forward so I'd lie on him, and planted a short kiss on my lips.
"That was fucking hot," he said and I let out a chuckle at that.
"I'm glad you liked it," I said with a smirk. He put a strand of hair behind my ear gently, looking at me with tender eyes, before pushing me down to lie on the mattress. I looked at the ceiling as I felt his lips and tongue explore my body, his hands gripping everything they possibly could.
He opened my pants and I lifted my hips to help him pull them off together with my panties. I quickly got rid of my bra in that process as well. Simon paused. He looked at my body, taking in every tiny detail, as if he was scared he would forget what I had looked like. I felt pretty under his gaze. His hands found my boobs again, brushing over my hard nipples. They wandered down, his left hand stopping at my hips, his right going further down, stopping at my public bone. He looked up to me, seeing me nod, before scooting his body further down between my legs to be at eye-level with my most private part of my body.
I felt him let out a short breath, as his finger moved between my folds, feeling how wet I was because of him. "Fuck," I heard him whisper. I let my head fall into my pillows. They smelled like his hair now and I tried to inhale that smell while his tongue met my clit and I let out a shaky moan.
"Oh God," I said, his tongue dancing around in the wetness of my cunt. My hands were in his hair – probably their favourite place to be in – pulling his locks, trying to get him closer as I was coming with a loud whine.
The orgasm hit me so intensely that my vision went blurry for a second, and I had to regulate my breathing.
"Was that good?" Simon asked me, now lying next to me with his hands found in my hair, stroking it slightly. I looked at him like he was crazy. My juices still glistened on his chin.
"That was probably the best orgasm I've ever had," I told him truthfully as I wiped his chin with the corner of my blanked that was now covering our naked bodies. Simon grinned proudly at me.
"I'm glad we didn't die that night," I said after a moment of silence. He smiled at me and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"And I'm glad you caught me masturbating." I let out a loud laugh, slightly shoving his shoulder.
"Idiot."
Simon grinned big at me an laid his head on my chest. "I think we should start going out." He said while his fingers fiddled with a loose thread on my blanket.
I smiled softly. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"
"Not yet, I want to take you on a date first."
"I'd like that," I said, gently caressing his back with one hand and stroking his head with the other.
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literally-12 · 3 months ago
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DPxDC Summoning Gone Wrong
Hi! Long time reader, first time writer. Please don't hate me if it's not super in character. Also I know this trope is overdone but oh well. I was inspired by a text post by @phiniusandjelly
Constantine felt the shift in power instantaneously and all at once. It manifested itself in the form of a cold shiver that started at his hairline and seeped throughout his body bringing with it goosebumps and a cold sweat. Something was deeply wrong. No. Something had changed and unfortunately, as the Justice Leagues’ resident expert on the supernatural, he felt as though somehow he was going to be responsible for getting to the bottom of it. 
Getting all the right information and sigils took longer than he wanted and convincing the rest of the Earth’s mightiest that he hadn’t finally slipped and cracked the fragile state of his already questionable mind took nearly as long. Luckily, Constantine knew if he needed to, he could get tall, dark, and spooky to back him. 
“I’m telling you, Bats, there has been a very large and significant shift in the forgotten realms and it is in your best interest that we follow up with all the gravity that this situation requires”. Constantine took a deep drag of his cigarette, pointedly ignoring Bruce’s scowl as the tip flared in front of him. Magically stepping into the Bat Cave was not something any wise man would consider doing on even their worst days, but Constantine had never claimed to be wise. 
“Explain”. Grunted Bruce, never one to put too much stock in the occult.
“Here’s the thing, Brucie, we’re talking a massive shift in power, like king of the infinite realms being dethroned type of power. The forgotten realms operate on a combat inheritance and I had the misfortune of meeting Pariah Dark once and he was about as unpleasant and violent of a bloke as they come” he flicked the ash onto the cave floor, beginning to pace, he hoped his unsettled demeanor would enforce the severity of the situation. “The one good thing about Dark was that he tended to mind his own business and stick to his dimension but now we’re dealing with an unknown. An unknown and immensely powerful being who could, if they wanted to, unravel the threads of our very reality”. He sensed more than saw Bruce’s eyebrows furrow, just a fraction of a centimeter, he was sure, but that was enough to let Constantine know that he was being taken seriously now. 
“I propose we bring this new king in and figure out their whole schtick. It’s going to be dangerous but it’s better to know what we’re dealing with in this sort of situation, maybe we can even make a deal, plead for our continued existence and all that.”
“You want to bring an exceedingly powerful, extra dimensional being into our universe and trap them to try and make a deal?” Batman grunted, his mind already racing through the many, many ways that this plan could go incredibly sideways. 
“Think of the children, Bruce, that’s your whole thing, right? You don’t want your gaggle of deplorable orphans growing up and adopting even more sad and blue eyed children in a world that no longer exists”. 
“What’s the probability that you can actually contain this all powerful being?” Constantine tossed the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his heel, pulling out a second and bringing it to his lips. One look from the Bats and he sighed, putting it back in the carton. 
“Optimistically? Eighty percent”. 
“Realistically?” 
“You’re such a buzzkill. Sixty five at best”. The dead-pan he received in lieu of a reply told him that even though the plan would be going forward, Bruce was anything but happy. 
When the summoning came about, it was an all hands on deck situation. The sigils were drawn and checked and rechecked and then checked a third time just for giggles. The writing was done in some viscous red liquid that Bruce was hoping was paint. The red circle was about five feet in diameter and smack in the middle of the conference room at the watchtower. The symbols were not in any language that Bruce could recognize but even without a magical bone in his body, he could feel the power radiating from them. 
“Everybody ready?” Asked Constantine, gesturing for them to stand back, he held a thick, weathered tome in his left hand, flipped to a seemingly random page. At confirmation from the gathered heroes, he began to chant. 
The atmosphere changed immediately. The first thing that Bruce noticed was the sudden drop in temperature. Ice crystals began to form in the center of the now glowing circle, snaking their way lazily out towards the perimeter in hypnotizing patterns, the very air in the room also changed dramatically, becoming charged with the smell of ozone and the feeling of lightning about to strike. Every hair on his body stood at rigid attention. He looked at Constantine who now sported a grimace but did not halt his chanting, his tone began to take on an echo, seeming to come from all around him, words overlapping as his face was lit up by an eerie red glow. Bruce had half a mind to call the whole endeavor off as all their shadows began to defy logic and stretch towards the glowing sigils. His teeth gritted, he tried to move, tried to say anything but found himself powerless to move, beginning to drastically regret his choice of allowing Constantine to invite this being into their universe, he debated closing his eyes as a sense of unease washed over him and with the electricity in the room seeming to reach a breaking point, with a loud pop, suddenly everything stopped. 
The quiet and the light that returned to the room was almost as jarring as the whole summoning ritual and when Bruce’s eyes refocused on the circle in the center of the room, he was shocked to see a teenage boy floating there. He had snow white hair that seemed like it couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to gravity, floating as though he was underwater and being pulled by a gentle current. His glowing green eyes were wide and he looked almost as shocked as the team by him appearing in the room. 
“Who are you?” demanded Constantine, never once putting down his thick book. The teen tilted his head, seeming to consider the question. 
“Shouldn’t you know that? Considering you’re the one who called me here and all that. These sigils don’t just say 1-800-dial-a-ghost, you know” his voice further enunciated his youth, however it had a weird, echoey quality, sounding almost as if he was talking directly into Bruce’s ear. He pulled his legs up underneath him, sitting criss crossed midair, looking entirely too relaxed at the situation.
“Answer the question, specter” Constantine demanded, “we’re not fooled by this guise you put on”. To this, the being frowned and flipped upside down. 
“You mean my outfit? I thought it was pretty chic but then again, I wasn’t necessarily given the opportunity to pick out my death day fit, it was just sort of chosen for me”. He gestured at the black and silver jumpsuit he was wearing that betrayed his slight frame. 
“Constantine…” Superman spoke up for the first time, taking a step closer to the man. “He’s just a kid”. 
“That’s what the bugger wants you to think.” the man grit out “you think a being this powerful can’t do something as minute as changing his appearance to try to get us to drop our guards?” Clark looked torn but resumed his place in the line of heroes behind the occultist. 
“Listen to big blue, I’m just a harmless kid!” said the floating being, flashing a pearly white set of teeth that were just on the wrong side of being too sharp. 
“Bullshit! We know you’re the new king of the infinite realms. Play nice and we’ll let you go back to doing whatever it is you do in your dimension. We just want to know what the terms of your rule are.” 
“Oh, that” he flipped himself back upright and floated closer to Constantine, as he approached the perimeter of the trap, the sigils on the floor glowed brighter at his presence. Hesitantly, with one hand he reached out a finger, jerking it back a red spark zapped the tip. Sticking it in his mouth, in pain, he managed to talk around the digit saying “you know, this meeting could’ve been an email” pulling his finger out and giving his hand a test shake, he narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. “Plus, isn’t it only polite that you introduce yourself first? I am a guest.”
“While you are here, you are our guest,” said Batman diplomatically, “we intend to extend all proper grace to you while you are in our presence. They call me Batman”. 
The teen snorted. 
“Yeah, I sort of gathered that by the whole bat symbol and pointy ears thing you’ve got going on”. He held his fingers up on either side of his head in a mimicry of Batman’s cowl. “I was talking about Mr. all powerful British magic man over here”. He stuck his hand out again, clearly not having learned his lesson, he withdrew it with a hiss as the invisible barrier sparked again. 
“There’s no escape for you, your highness, these sigils are specially made to contain any ghost within them” Constantine sounded smug. “You’re just going to hurt yourself by trying”. 
The child in the circle mouthed ‘any ghost’ mockingly, but floated backwards towards the center of the circle. Batman sighed, seems like he’s going to have to have all the manners around here. 
“John Constantine, Superman, Wonder Woman” he pointed at each of his teammates as he went. “And what name should we refer to you with?” 
Without moving his eyes from the man in the trenchcoat, the kid began to smile, just a little too widely for Bruce to feel comforted. 
“They call me Phantom”, he said off handedly, “Constantine, you say?” The man in question narrowed his eyes. “You know I have a full file cabinet stuffed with paperwork for you, I was hoping we would get the pleasure of meeting. I would’ve gotten it to you sooner but there's surprisingly a lot of work that has to happen in the first few days of a new reign”. He put his feet back firmly on the conference room floor. “If you’ll just allow me to go grab that, we can get started post haste!” He was way too chipper for anyone to be talking about paperwork. 
“So you are the new ghost king then” Constantine said accusationally, narrowing his eyes. “And we’re not letting you leave until we know what your intentions are with this dimension”
“Yeah, yeah” said Phantom. “You don’t have to ‘let’ me do anything. I know how you occultists work. You made one mistake though in this whole summoning slash kidnapping scheme”. With that, a blinding white light overtook the teen, forcing everyone to look aside to save their sight. When they looked back, Phantom had changed his appearance, gone was the ethereal floating white hair, replaced with normal, albeit messy black. His jumpsuit was also gone, replaced by a deceptively normal looking NASA hoodie and jeans with tears in the knees. 
Constantine’s eyes widened as he took in this new sight, he began to flip rapidly through his spell book, as Bruce watched the boy take one step forward, and then two, and then with a graceful hop, he was outside of the circle. 
“This circle only holds in ghosts” and with a devilish smile and another flash of brillant light, he was gone. On the floor where he had been standing only moments before, was a thick stack of loose leaf papers written in a language Bruce couldn’t decipher, text glowing an eerie green. On top of the stack was a post it note with messily scrawled handwriting. ‘Please return completed paperwork to the infinite realms ℅ Phantom at your earliest convenience’ another flash and another post it note ‘also I come in peace- Phantom’. 
Batman, as well as the others turned to Constantine to watch him drop his head into his hands, his large book tumbling to the side. He didn’t even protest when the man pulled out and lit another cigarette. 
“You have a lot of explaining to do” was all he said.
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adreamfromnevermore · 1 year ago
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Headcanon that the Bats must be the most infuriating members of the justice league. And it's got nothing to do with what they do or don't know or even their general skills and egos. Everyone is very used to Batman and the expectation that him and any of his spawn are somehow going to be three steps ahead of any issue they bring to the table ever.
No no, the infuriating bit? The stalking.
Listen, this is a family of freaks and weirdos. They work so well together because none of them were normal to start with and then they ended up traumatized. It's practically common practice in that family to accept that nothing is what it seems at face value and that all of your siblings are attempting to pry into your private life and cases at any given moment. I think for them it's honestly weirder if you take what they say at face value. They speak a language holy separate from any normally socialized person and it is a language of lies and half-truths that relies on the assumption that all parties are aware of that.
They're the most infuriating bitches around.
They'll tell someone something and appear to do the opposite and when confronted will have the most convoluted but sound reasoning of why they actually did exactly as they promised too.
They regularly pick people's pockets and hack into personal information because for them? That's practically a love language. They're obnoxious and they aren't even aware of it. Someone asks them to just tell the truth and they react like they've been shot. They're probably offended when they realize that someone hasn't been at least attempting to dig into them back, like come on man. I thought we were friends but you didn't even Google how long Nightwings been around? We've already put the bar on the floor for you guys? My siblings already have a full dossier ready on you because they caught us on camera in your home city during that 2 minute conversation we had 3 months ago. They sent it to me a few hours later. I think they got Oracle to help cause usually it takes them at least 12 hours.
You think they're being nice and friendly and then you realize that they have a nice little file compiled of everything you've done in the last five years, where you went to school and every note your teachers ever made about your behavior a decade ago when you were still a high schooler and fairly normal. If asked they'd probably be willing to bring out the family tree they built for you. They know what you did last summer better than you know what you did last summer. They have pictures, pictures that should be impossible because there's no way they were stalking you then and those sure don't look like security camera footage.
In reality Bats and Superman get along so well because that man is an investigative journalist and when they first met he could not leave it alone. Bruce was charmed the first time Clark Kent started doggedly attempting to ask him if he knew anything about Gothams new cryptid. It was cute how off base he was. But he was trying!!!! Bruce was sold for life! He dropped an dossier on lexcorp off in Clarks apartment a few days later. As a gift.
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bunny-jpeg · 9 months ago
Note
Hiii, could I get a carrot cake and churros with a side of root beer with john price? Thank you sm 🫶🫶
bakery menu
want to suggest your own order? check out the menu! there are tons of options to choose from! i write for fandoms outside of call of duty so please check it all out! mean!price has my heart! he doesn't have time for whiny subs so he just shoves it in your throat to shut. you. up. i hope you enjoy!! <3
carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + churros ("if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?") + root beer (filming/recording) served by capt. john price (call of duty)!
cw: smut/pwp, oral sex (price receives), rough sex, mean dom!price, facials, cock slapping, dirty talk, implied baby trapping, american solider!reader, power dynamics, implied daddy issues, manipulation
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"you like this, don't ya? ya like when you have a camera in your face. ya fuckin' attention whore." price said in a dangerous tone.
you looked up at him with a mouth full of his cock. this wasn't how a soldier should be. they should stand with pride for their country, not have their commander's leaky cock run across your face, smearing clear pre-cum across the bridge of your nose. price liked when he got the sticky substance all over your face. only second to having it stuffed into your aching pussy. bareback of course, if you got pregnant then there was a nice little cottage out in the countryside of england where you can raise the little one(s).
"captain." you panted, almost heaving from the lack of oxygen, "why are you filming me?" your bottom lip wobbled a little.
"sweet fuck, baby girl." he said as he shoved his cock up into your face, almost slapping you in the eye, "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full till you pass out. okay? now be good." and groaned when you started to suck him off again.
you craved approval, since your transfer from america to england. you had be eager to impress the older captain. you had seen how decorated he was. which was why you were eager to let him be so intimate with him. at first it was quick fucks once in a while in empty offices or storage closets. and while it was all fun and games (that fed your weird daddy issues), price wanted more. price had learned from his time in the forces to not let a good thing pass him by.
to keep anything in the military, it meant digging your nails into it. marking it, branding it as your own. and you had a little 'j' on your thigh. price's mark on you, or the only one you had for now. just as price's filthy words stung you in an erotic way, his praise built you up.
"you look good on your knees. always so eager to do more. you're a greedy girl, but that's what i like about ya. starvin' for me. knowin' i'll give it to ya."
you whined in response. fuck, you were perfect. price felt like he needed to give laswell the nicest bottle he could get for transferring you so far away from your home base. where you easily fell into price's arms and let him bully your tender throat.
he already bruised the skin with bites, might as well bruise the inside too. let your voice grow hoarse and need to rely on him more. his goal was to have you dependent on him. but, all things came with time.
"perfect girl for me. i bet they'll love this." his voice was low. you still didn't know why 'they' were.
regardless, you looked up at him and the camera, spit around your mouth. picture perfect. you looked better when you weren't asking questions, running your mouth when you should be using it for other things. you squirmed from your spot on the floor, shifting your knees. it hurt being on the hard ground for so long, but you'd be staying there until price was done with you. or finally broke and needed that sweet cunt of yours.
in reality, he was filming you for his team. he had been talking (gloating) about the solider who is more eager to be on her knees than fight. he talked about how he could probably break your neck if he choked you hard enough or suffocate you on his cock. not that price would ever do that. no, no, his little transfer was needed for something much better.
carrying on the price name. tonight he wasn't going to touch your pretty pussy, he knew you were wet from the sight of the phone in your face. but he had to make you more desperate, that you'd throw caution (protection) to the wind and let price decorate your insides with his seed. the video tonight was a teaser for his boys, to show what is possible to get with hard work and determination. all that ra-ra bull crap to keep his team motivated. that if they were good and played their cards right, then a little bird would easily be theirs.
price knew he worked with a few womb bruisers, and he wasn't an exception.
not the price wanted to share you, but he knew you had some friends back in the states. and maybe they'd as easily charmed as you were. they build 'em nice in america, perfect for a brute like the ones on 141. he continued to fuck your mouth, letting you drool and make a mess of his cock.
the camera was a little shaky, and you had a hard time focusing on it in front of you. it wasn't meant to be professional. it was more a showcase of the capabilities of the united states forces. loyal to country and the cock put in their faces. it was cute.
"why don't you tell the boys 'ello." price chuckled as if you could talk. he'd be surprised if you could forma thought right now that wasn't the eight inches of cock in your throat. that's alright, the future mrs. price didn't need to be thinking. let your husband do all the talking and thinking, okay? you just sit there pretty with the kids.
you opened your eyes a little and made a small noise. everything felt on high alert, over saturated to hell and it made your head throb. your cunt was almost cramping from the need to have price inside of you. messing up your poor pussy. but right now you'd have to settle on having your mouth used. and you wouldn't dare try to touch yourself, it was better to be on price's good side than bad.
"yeah, there she is. still got some brains left in her." price chuckled as he pinched your cheek with his rough hand, "c'mon, darling. give the boys a smile."
you tried to smile with cock in your mouth and it made price even more turned on. always so perfect. no wonder they let you into the armed services, you were obedient like a dog. your smile dropped as price fucked your face even faster.
you brain couldn't keep up with your movements, you were like a toy to price. and that was how he liked you, blissed out and used for his pleasure. he also used you for his aggression when the shooting range was clothes. it was almost the same, he wasn't firing blanks either way.
price pulled out and stroked his cock quickly to cum on your tongue, but missed for the most part and got it all over your face. he groaned and relaxed, the phone almost tumbled out of his hands. "swallow it. all of it." he said, expecting you to clean up his mess. old man couldn't even cum straight. he patted your cum covered face while you tried to get it off your skin before it dried.
the captain got close into your face with the camera, showing how the creamy cum gleamed on your skin. he took you by the jaw and chuckled, "ah, there she is. pretty girl." you whined and he added, "see boys, take good care of 'em, you won't go runnin'. now darling what do we say the captain when he makes ya feel good?"
you opened your eyes a little, a rivet of cum went down your lips as you said, "thank you captain price." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek.
price stopped filming, putting his phone to the side. a pretty blissed out thing on the floor of his office deserved a reward. instead of carpet burn on your knees, it was going to be all over your back. <3
475 notes · View notes
base0h · 8 months ago
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NOT SAYING I LOVE YOU BACK TO HAIKYUU CHARACTERS
a/n - I feel like someone requested this with Osamu, nishinoya, ushijima, and tendou a while ago and it got deleted??? Sorry anon 😭🙏 bro writing this made me feel lonely. 💀
Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, s/o reader
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- bold of you to assume bro would let you do this
- well for this let’s just say he did
- you saw this TikTok about this prank where one person didn’t say I love you back to their partners, and you thought it’d be funny to try it on Osamu
- Osamu was getting ready to head to a late practice, getting his bag and shoes to leave your room
- you were doing some homework, so he gave you a hug from behind and pecked your cheek
- “Love ya, goin to practice now.” -Osamu
- “Ok be safe, bye Samu.” -you
- you said that with a smile, going back to your homework, acting as if nothing was wrong
- Osamu nodded, closing the door behind him, his footsteps receding, but then suddenly they stopped
- you had to struggle not to snicker at the sudden stop of his footsteps
- then you heard him coming back and you swore you almost let out a laugh, swallowing it quickly as he opened the door again
- “Y/n. I love you—“
- “Huh? Yeah I know Samu, be safe and good luck at practice.”
- he looked at you like you were Atsumu, squinting as he put a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to one foot like he was posing to be in a magazine when in reality he was just confused and a bit irritated
- “…What did I do??”
- “You didn’t do anything what do you mean??”
- “Yer makin’ me look desperate here— I love you—“
- “…Yeah i know???”
- “Y/N.”
- “Osamu???”
- “Wh— don’t use my full name! What the hell did I do???”
- you couldn’t take it anymore, you laughed, covering your face as you struggled to catch your breath
- meanwhile osamu’s looking at you in the doorway with his hand still on his hip like a pissed off Karen that wants to speak to the manager (if he had a weapon it’d be a frying pan)
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literally Osamu ^^
- oh my god his face was priceless, you wished you’d taken a real photo rather than a mental screenshot so you could show Suna
- “I’m sorry samu it was a prank. I love you too.”
- “…..I ain’t making ya dinner.”
- “NO PLEASE I’M SORRY—“
- yeah bros done with you
- he was all worried for nothing 😭
- he thought he did something wrong but no you just wanted to bullshit him
- he still made you dinner btw
- he like gave you a plate without saying anything and eating in the other room but he still gave it to you (he’s petty)
- basically an Asian parent 💀
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- nishinoya probably says ‘I love you’ about 100000000000000+ times and counting, per day
- and he lives for hearing you say it back to him
- he still gets giddy when he hears you say it
- “Y/n I love you!!” -Nishinoya
- “Love you too noya :)” -you
- “…..RYUUUUUUUU Y/N SAID THEY LOVED ME!!”
- “THEY SAY THAT EVERY DAY NISHINOYA SHUT UP STOP MAKING ME FEEL MORE SINGLE—“ -Tanaka shouted whilst sobbing in the corner (dw Tanaka you end up marrying the love of your life)
- you saw this prank on TikTok and obviously you wanted to try it on your eccentric boyfriend
- but you did feel SLIGHTLY bad about what his reaction might be since you were well aware that he loved hearing you say it back
- but you’re mean so 🤷 (Jkjk you’re awesome just pretend you’re mean for this pls🙏💀)
- Nishinoya was about to go to class, giving you one last bear hug before he went as usual
- “Are you sure we gotta go to class? I like you better than math :(“
- “Yes noya— you have to graduate high school remember?”
- “Ok fineee— I’ll see you after class then??”
- “Mhm.”
- “Ok love you y/n!!”
- “Ok— don’t fall asleep in class ok? See ya later.”
- the fact that the silence was so loud that even kiyoko who was walking by was like: 🫢
- Tanaka’s jaw was on the FLOOR
- Daichi probably verbally said “ohhhhh snap 😬” with that exact face
- Nishinoya was frozen, and all of the sudden he just flopped off of you, still holding his hug position, and just like died on the floor in a dead bug looking position
- you legit could not tell if he was breathing or not 😭
- you killed him
- good job y/n, you killed the guardian deity of karasuno
- Nishinoya literally passed out cold from pure despair because he didn’t hear you say it back, and therefore in his mind that equaled you didn’t love him and were breaking up with him and the world was ending and aliens were gonna invade earth (bro what? 💀)
- he woke up with his head in your lap, resting on your thighs— and he woke up with like zero memory and woke up as high as a kite too
- he was giggling like an idiot, spouting random nonsense and corny shit, going from flirty and sobbing his eyes out back and forth 😭
- “Am I in heaven? Cuz you look like an angel, angel 😏”
- “Thank you goddd— for blessing me with this gorgeous gift— 😭😭😭😭”
- he forgot about the prank btw
- hit his head way too hard on his way down and woke up on his favorite pillow so yep everything turned out semi ok 👍
- hey may or may not have permanent brain damage! 😄
- daichi aged 10 years after this incident by the way
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- I feel like tendou says I love you all the time, but whenever you say it back he’s always a bit surprised
- he’s heard you say it a bunch of times by now but he’s still just a tad shocked everytime
- like he’s genuinely surprised you actually love him back 😭
- the first time you said it back bro cried 🥲
- he would NOT stop talking to ushijima about it, he kept gushing about how perfect you were and how he doesn’t deserve you and meanwhile ushijima is sitting there like: 🧍‍♂️
- funny part is that ushijima’s genuinely trying to listen to his friend but bro just doesn’t get it 💀
- you saw this prank on TikTok that seemed funny, you two always kinda went back and forth playing little jokes on each other
- last time he got you by putting a huge ass fake spider on the ceiling of your room so when you walked in he pulled a string and it jumped out and hit your face
- you did not talk to bro for days
- I wouldn’t either man 😭
- so now it was time to get him back
- he was getting ready to leave for a late practice, and he bounded over to you from behind your work chair as you were reading the shonen jump he had lent you
- “Ok I’m goin to practice I’ll see ya later y/n—“ -tendou
- “Ok bye tendou, have a good practice. Don’t piss off Semi too much—“ -you
- “Oh come on I don’t piss him off! Semi is my bestie he can confirm!”
- “I honestly don’t think you could pay semi an amount that would make him call you his ‘bestie’”
- “I can work miracles! Ok— bye y/n I love youuuuu—“
- “Bye tendou, good luck with working that miracle.“
- He paused, his lanky arms dropping down to his sides as he thought for a second
- did you not say it back or was he just going deaf?
- he did that thing yk where you like tilt your head to the side in confusion— and his hair like drooped down a bit 😭
- “…I love you—“
- “I know tendou, have a good practice!”
- he’s scared, genuinely terrified
- he’s running through his mind trying to think of why you didn’t say it back— did you think he was annoying?? Was he being too loud? Did you actually just not say it because you didn’t love him anymore?
- he wanted to ask what was wrong but he thought maybe he was being annoying so he just left to give you space 😭
- you felt awful
- he looked so confused and hurt before he left
- tendou went to ushijima for advice and to just talk about it— he’s probably the worst person to talk to about this stuff bc bro literally thinks the earth is flat but whatever
- “…..That’s rough buddy.” -ushijima whilst awkwardly patting tendou’s shoulder
- “…Was that an avatar reference?” -tendou
- “Hm? What is an ‘avatar’?”
- “Nevermind. Thanks for trying.”
- you felt so bad— so when he was just in his room doing homework, you came in and immediately gave him a hug, apologizing and saying I love you to him over and over
- he was confused but happy to hear you say it back— he was SWEATIN bro 😭
- “I thought I was being annoying—“
- “Oh no tendou it was just a prank—“
- “….Wait was this payback for the spider?”
- “…..Yeah.”
- “…Ok I kinda deserved that then.”
- “Love you tendou, I promise you’re not annoying.”
- “Love you too y/n :)”
……
- “….Don’t you dare even think about pranking me with a spider again.”
- “I won’t make any promises that I can’t keep 😄”
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- if there’s one thing he always remembers to do it’s to say ‘I love you’ before he leaves or before you go to sleep
- he doesn’t talk much but he never fails to say it to you
- even if he pretty much doesn’t talk the whole day, his few words will be those practiced words that have now been engrained into his mind
- you saw a prank video on instagram and thought it would be interesting to try it on ushijima, you honestly weren’t sure how he’d react
- he was getting ready to leave for practice, coming up from behind you as you worked on some assignments, giving you a quick one armed hug since his other arm was full carrying his stuff
- “I’ll be back tonight, goodbye y/n, I love you.” -ushijima
- “Ok, have a good practice.” -you
- he waited a minute, since usually he heard you say it back— but no you went right back to doing your work
- he assumed that maybe you were very absorbed and busy with your assignments and studies, which he understood and wanted to respect your work time
- so he left without another word, not wanting to disturb you
- but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t care about the fact that you didn’t say it back to him
- he was so accustomed to you saying those three words back to him or to him directly, maybe he’d taken it for granted? Because now without hearing them, he felt— wrong
- he wasn’t greatly disturbed, but he wasn’t normal either
- he thought about it a couple times during breaks in practice, wondering if he did something to make you distant or frustrated with him
- after practice was over, he came back, seeing you still doing your work like when he left, and he tried to be as quiet as possible to not bother you in case that was the reason behind why you didn’t say it back
- dude he was trying so hard to figure out what to do 😭
- he called tendou because he thought either tendou was the expert on these things or semi, and semi did NOT pick up 💀 (idk why but I feel like semi never answers his phone, not even on purpose, but like his ringer doesn’t work or some shit and he’s sitting there wondering why no one texts him or calls him)
- “Uhhhh…. Good luck Wakatoshi-kun!” -tendou
- “Is the situation that bleak?? I require your best wishes..? Tendou is this serious?” (Poor guy is sweating now 💀)
- “Well it’s either ‘damn well— good luck’ or it’s a prank! I’ve seen people do a prank on their partners where they don’t say ‘I love you’ back.” (tendou’s chronically online there isn’t a meme or prank trend bro hasn’t seen)
- “…..I see. How do I know which one it is?”
- “…..Good luck with that!”
- some help you are tendou 💀
- ushijima is not good at being subtle, so he just blatantly asked you— after you were going to take a break from your work
- “Y/n, did I do something to make you distant? Or was this a prank? Tendou told me about a certain trending prank partners do to their significant others, and—“ (he was talking the most you’ve ever heard him speak because bro was nervous actually despite looking normal)
- “I’m sorry Ushijima it was a prank yeah— I love you too ok?”
- he felt his shoulders relax when he finally heard you say it with that familiar smile that melted his heart
- ever since that prank you did— he’s said it more often
- he has a routine now, instead of just when he leaves or when he goes to sleep, he texts you in the morning, or says it to you if you’re there with him
- he says it whenever you say you text him or say over the phone you have to go do something
- he says it when you get back or when he gets back
- he says it a lot let’s just put it that way :)
- also semi was so betrayed that ushijima asked tendou for advice and not him later on 🥲
- “You asked TENDOU first?! Of all people?! You would’ve had better luck with goshiki!” -semi
- “Huh what?! I heard my name! Did someone call me?!” -goshiki appearing out of nowhere anytime someone says anything starting with “go”
- “BRO HOW DID YOU MATERIALIZE?!”
- “BAHAHAHAHAHAHDHDHEUHDUD—“ -tendou having an asthma attack from laughing
- “Apologies Semi, you did not pick up your phone. And from what I recall, you’ve never been in a relationship before, correct?” -ushijima
- bye bye semi’s self esteem 💀 tendou was about to cry and turn blue from laughing so hard, slapping his knee, cackling, shaking semi by his shoulders and giggling like a little shit
- ushijima is BRUTAL bro 🥲
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a/n - semi got violated, a moment of silence for him 😔🙏
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incognit0slut · 11 months ago
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Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene III: The Close Encounter)
The tension between you and Spencer finally snaps as you find yourself sharing the same bed.
Part warning: sexual tension and (finally) heavy kissing Words: 1.6k A/n: this is relatively short because I got really busy this week��� i’m so sawry
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly why he kept that book on his lap the entire time. It just seemed wiser to pretend not to notice—not just for his sake, but for yours too. The less said, the better, especially when your own reaction had been anything but subtle. Because who the hell would moan at the slightest touch? Who would shudder and gasp from a mere brush of fingers across the skin?
Well… you, apparently.
You couldn't believe he managed to fluster you this much. This was Spencer. Spencer. Someone so complicated in your life, the same guy you swore you'd never let yourself get close to. Yet here you were, pulse racing and cheeks hot, all because of a few innocent touches that shouldn't have meant anything.
No, you were probably too caught up in this stupid situation. It was the only explanation that made sense, that had to be it. And now, you needed to pull yourself together. A reset, perhaps. A way to snap back to reality and remind yourself that everything was just a performance. Because there was no way in hell that these feelings were real—they couldn't be.
So you did what you did best: you kept your distance. Not completely, but just enough to keep the act while building an ever taller wall between you. You touched his arm occasionally, you even leaned on him when others were around. But whenever it wasn’t necessary to be by his side, you avoided being alone with him.
Until later that night.
You had been so focused on avoiding him that you completely forgot the dread nagging at you since this morning. You lingered with the girls, laughing over the last drops of wine until you somewhat felt the slight buzz of alcohol in your system. It was close to midnight when you finally made your way back to your room, only to stop dead in your tracks.
The bathroom door swung open just as you entered, and there he was—fresh out of a quick shower. His hair was slightly damp, carelessly flopping onto his forehead, and he was clad in a classic pajama set, stripes of soft blue and white that somehow suited him. Your gaze slowly drifted back to his face, catching his gaze just as time seemed to freeze.
Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke, and you wondered whether you could fake a fight and slip into Penelope’s room when he finally cleared his throat.
“I, uh, I’ll just grab a pillow,” he mumbled awkwardly, motioning towards the floor.
You watched him fumble with the flimsy pillow, his fingers clumsily adjusting its corners, and the sight made you feel bad. The thought of him all curled up on the floor while you sprawled out on a queen-sized bed felt downright ridiculous, but at the same time, the idea of laying so close to him was making your palms sweat.
“Wait,” you blurted out, surprising even yourself. “I…”
Say it. Just say it.
“You can sleep on the bed.”
You winced as the words left your mouth, but Spencer just looked at you, frowning slightly. “I don’t want to take the bed if it means you’re on the floor.”
You shook your head quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “I mean… we can share it?”
His eyes went cartoonishly wide.
“You want to share the bed?”
You nodded.
“As in… both of us?”
You nodded again.
His voice turned a pitch higher. "Together?"
“Yeah, just… you know, you stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine,” you added, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The room was suddenly too warm, too stifling. Or maybe it was just the heat rising to your cheeks. You waited for his response, but when he seemed to hesitate, you started to second-guess yourself.
“You know what, just forget about it—”
“No!” He quickly said. He cleared his throat again. “We can... we can share the bed.”
You held his gaze, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
One long second passed until you bolted into the bathroom with your change of clothes.
You slammed the bathroom door behind you, your breath catching in your throat. You quickly stripped yourself naked, a little more harshly than necessary, and pulled on your shorts and t-shirt. The fabric clung to your skin as if it too sensed the shift in the air.
It’s just one night, you repeated in your head like a mantra. You were just going to sleep. Sure you had history, and sure, sharing a bed would complicate things further. But the two of you had shared spaces before—late nights at the office, long stakeouts in cramped cars. This was no different. It had to be no different.
Finally feeling somewhat calmer, you unlocked the door and stepped out. Spencer was already under the covers, his back to you, the lines of his shoulders tense under the thin blanket. The mattress dipped slightly with your weight when you finally slipped under the covers, and you lay down on the very edge, as far from him as possible without making it obvious.
One minute turned into two, and then those minutes stretched into more, and you realized both of you were still very much wide awake. The quiet was starting to drive you insane.
“Reid?”
His voice was oddly quiet. “Yes?”
But what were you even trying to say? You scrambled for something, anything, but you couldn’t find the right words. Your thoughts felt tangled, a jumble of half-formed ideas that fizzled out before they could be voiced.
Spencer noticed your hesitation and turned towards you. “What is it?”
Feeling flustered by the way he was looking at you—especially when you caught him glancing briefly at your lips—you blurted out the first thing that came to mind, which wasn’t at all what you’d planned to discuss.
“When do you think we should fake our breakup?”
The question hung awkwardly in the air. You regretted it the moment it left your lips, but there was no taking it back now. His gaze changed subtly.
“Break up?”
You nodded, feeling suddenly foolish but too committed to stop. “Yeah, I mean, with how things are going… and how we’re supposed to be pretending, right? It just… it feels like something we should plan out, doesn’t it?”
Spencer watched you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your thoughts. Finally, he let out a slow breath, nodding slightly.
“Sure… we should have a plan.”
“Maybe we could have a big argument,” you suggested.
He shifted to face you, the bed sheets rustling softly under him. "What kind of argument?"
"Something dramatic," you proposed, your heart beating a little faster as the distance seemed to close with his every subtle movement. "Something public where everyone can see it’s over."
“I don’t think we can handle something that intense."
“You’re right,” you agreed softly. “Something… simple then?”
Spencer unconsciously licked his lips, a brief, nervous gesture. Your eyes followed the movement, lingering just a second too long. “We could just say it isn’t working out.”
You drew your eyes back to his, and unconsciously, your foot brushed against him under the covers. He tensed for a moment. But after a pause that stretched a beat too long, he shifted slightly, not to pull away but to gently rest his leg against yours.
“You think that will be enough?” you whispered, your breath hitching slightly.
“Maybe,” he replied, his voice equally low. “We can say we want different things.”
You swallowed hard. “Different?”
"Different… paths, maybe," he suggested, his leg sliding against yours again and you felt a rush of heat spread through your body. You could hardly think when you were too focused on the sensation of his bare skin against yours.
"Like... we grew apart?"
He nodded slowly. “Seems believable.”
Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. The space between you seemed to shrink with every word.
“Believable,” you echoed.
He moved a fraction closer. “Yeah, believable.”
Your eyes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. You could see the slight hesitation in his eyes, a question perhaps about crossing a line. But then he leaned in, closing the remaining distance, his forehead touching yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath brushed against your lips… and then there was no space left at all.
You felt him everywhere. Your mouth, your waist, your thigh. Spencer Reid was kissing you, and it felt utterly surreal. Although this wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position, you chose to ground yourself in this moment, letting the past fade into a distant memory.
So you focused on the way his lips barely brushed against yours, his touch so soft and tentative at first before he slightly pulled away. It was as if he was testing the waters, trying to gauge your reaction. When you moved forward, closing the gap between you, he finally kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a growing sense of urgency.
Everything around you started to blur, the edges of reality fading as your every sense focused on his touch, his warmth, his scent. When he carefully slipped his leg between yours, you sighed into the kiss, a soft, inviting sound that encouraged him further. He took it as an invitation, his tongue gently probing at the seam of your lips until you parted them.
The moment his tongue met yours, you were overwhelmed with a rush of sensation. You held onto him, tracing your hands along his back, feeling his body tense under your touch as you pulled him closer. His hands were just as busy, one cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, while the other gripped your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough.
You didn't know how long you stayed like that. When you finally pulled back for air, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads still touching. Your fingers lingered on the nape of his neck, tracing delicate patterns while his thumb gently brushed your cheek. There was a moment of stillness, a shared breath, before he moved again.
Spencer leaned in for another kiss, and as you pulled him closer to you, you knew this was no longer about pretending. What you felt was as real as the lingering taste of him on your lips, a reality that was impossible for you to deny.
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simpingforheros · 6 months ago
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Lover Man
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Pairing: Roy Harper X Single Mom! Female! Reader
Summary: Roy Harper gave up on love after his relationship with Cheshire never went anywhere other than creating his bundle of joy that was Lian Harper. That was until she came knocking on his door.
Warnings: 18+, Minors Do Not Interact, Female Reader/Female Pronouns/ Female Anatomy, Fluff eventually turning into Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Close Proximity, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Implied Abuse, Heavy Make-Out Session, Dry Humping, Implied Breeding Kink, Roy Harper being our Gentle King ((only this time)).
A/N: Soooo I had another Roy fanfic written completely in the drafts…and I hated it 💀. So I rewrote it and here it is. It’s a wee bit longer than my normal fanfics and I wanted to add more fluff and more descriptive detail instead of just smut. Please leave me some comments if you like this or if you don’t lol. Thank you.
A/N: I got my own ginger so it makes me wanna write about my second favorite ginger since I hardly see writing for him outside of him being a throuple with Jason. Roy Harper is just as hot as Jason because man’s literally got himself out of a bad place just for his daughter 😭🥹. Our responsibility king. Also Lian is aged up to 7 years old in this.
Dividers >>>> @cafekitsune
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Roy Harper was a hardworking man. He slaves over his small mercenary missions with the occasional events of saving the city in the mix of raising a 4 foot ball of energy all on his own. He felt exhausted most the time, but that exhaustion keeps him out of trouble. It also gets him out of any venture for a personal life.
Sure, Roy had the Outlaws who would swing by after missions just to hangout and drink, and the Titans make a rare appearance to visit their favorite niece. Even Ollie and Dinah would occasionally come by to visit. But, after Jade came and left him high and dry, his heart was hollow…
Lian was his whole world and stars. He never thought he could love someone as much as he loved his little girl. He dragged himself out of his drug addiction just so he can take care of her, and she should be enough to make the backbreaking labor enough.
However, he notices how the doodled Mother’s Day cards that used to litter the fridge for Jade began to dwindle as her eyes began to look longingly at the other parents who had two parents and a pair or two of siblings. Lian says she’s happy to live with her Dad, who was her bestest friend in the world, but the occasional crayon drawings say otherwise.
The stick figures of Lian and Roy with a faceless woman and another stick figure child making it very clear that Lian wanted a mother figure, or at least a sibling.
Maybe one day Roy can give it to her…but right now he was too tired.
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“What do you mean you forgot??” Roy yells into the phone as he speed walks back to his apartment complex.
He should have known better than to ask Garfield to wait at his apartment for Lian to come home and babysit for a couple of hours while he went grocery shopping. This week has been hell on him. He’s been dealing with some of Black Mask’s crew trying to expand to Star City and when he would try to get some sleep, the noise of some new neighbors moving in woke him up constantly. This was really his only chance to go do anything and Beast Boy forgot to come.
“I asked you to do one thing, Gar! Be here and watch Lian until I got back. How can forget to watch a 7 year old girl?” Roy seethes as he walks into the main lobby and bolting up the stairs.
His heart was pounding with all the possible scenarios. He knows he’s overreacting, that she was just probably sitting by the locked door either entertaining herself or crying. But he also couldn’t help but be paranoid that she strayed off to go find him or someone snatched her up.
His worst fear coming to reality as he walks onto his floor and sees no one. He quickly gets to his door and jiggles the nob, feeling the secured lock.
Just as Roy was about to scream at Garfield again to relieve the unrelenting anxiety, the sound of a door opening behind him catches his attention as a familiar ring fills the static.
“Daddy!” Lian yells as Roy turns around, relief filling his body as he kneels down to greet the girl.
“Oh fuck, you scared me.” He says, as he sighs in relief. His strong arms holding the small girl tight to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” the girl mumbles with sympathy pooling in her dark eyes. “I was walking Wren and she wanted me to see her new room.”
‘Wren? Who’s Wren?’ Roy thought as he quirks his eyebrow just as movement catches his eyes again to the door.
Another little girl was standing in the door way to the apartment. She looked the same age as Lian with colorful ribbons in her hair and the matching Star Academy uniform on as Lian.
‘Another Star Academy student? There isn’t any other student living here…’
Then the realization that this was one of the new neighbors hits him as a taller figure appears behind Wren. Her voice throwing Roy in a trance as she scolds the girl.
“Wren, I told you to not stare. Especially at strangers.” Her voice gently but protective as she kept her eyes on Roy. Her hand already on her daughter’s shoulder as her daughter apologizes.
“I’m sorry, Mama. I wanted to see Lian’s Dad and see if I can come over…”
The woman was the same age as him from what he can tell. Healthy, glowing skin despite the dark bags under her eyes. Her hair glowed like a halo in the fluorescent light of the hallway despite the messy frizz of what he thought used to be a protective hairstyle that her work day destroyed. Her boxy scrubs doing noting to hide her figure as the familiar logo of Star City General Hospital shined brightly.
“Dad.” Lian’s inpatient voice cuts through his daze as he looks to his daughter.
“Huh?” He says as his daughter giggles.
“I said, can I show Wren my room? I wanna show her all my Bluey toys.” She says excitedly.
His eyes briefly flickering over to the other excited little girl before stating gently, “I have no problem with it, but did you ask Wren’s mom if she can.”
“Yea! Miss (L/N) said it was alright.” She says happily.
‘Miss? I guess she’s not married…’ he thought as he handed Lian his keys with a joking quip, “Don’r throw a party while I’m over here talking to Miss (L/N).”
The girls giggle before running over to Roy’s apartment and entering. Roy stands up to his full height as he gives the mother a smile. She returns it with her own as she says,
“Normally Wren is pretty shy, so I was happy to see she made friends with a good kid.” She says as she pushes some stray hair out of her face before offering him her hand. “I’m (Y/N) by the way.”
“Roy. Roy Harper.” He introduces himself as he shakes her hand. He couldn’t help but smile brighter as they pulled their hands away, proud that his daughter helped out a new kid.
“Lian doesn’t have much of a shy side to her. I blame it on her mom’s genetics.” He jokes with a soft chuckle.
“You and your wife must be proud.” She says softly as she props her hip against the doorframe.
“Oh no, I’m not married.” He corrects her as he nervously stuffs his hands in his pocket as he felt a pang of gloom over his heart. “It’s just me and Lian.”
Her eyes dropped as she crosses her arms over her chest as she mumbles, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…”
“No, youre alright.” He assures her with a shrug. “Honestly, I should be apologizing for your first impression of me being my kid locked out of my apartment.”
She giggles as she waves him off as she says, “Lian told me that her normal babysitters weren’t in town and that ‘Uncle Gar’ was suppose to be here.”
“Yeaaa.” He groans as he defends himself. “I promise that i’m normally on top of the babysitting situation since I normally work nights.”
She nods as she says, “I understand. I have to find my own babysitter now that I moved across the country. I work days at the hospital.”
The idea seeming to strike them at the same time as both their little girls scream in delight as they play in the apartment over.
A compromise between two single parents.
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The deal was easy and benefited both of them. Since she had to work 12 hour shifts on a 3 on, two off basis, (Y/N) would drop the girls off at school on her way to work, and Roy adjusted his “work” time so he can be home when they come home from school and babysit until Wren’s mom gets off from work.
When (Y/N) was off and Roy is working, She will keep both girls at her apartment and gets them ready for school in the mornings before they tag off.
During the rare occurrence that Roy had to go away on a “business trip”, the girls would just be with (Y/N) full time with Roy’s promise that it will only be a week and he will watch them when the weekend comes so she can rest.
This has been the routine for three months, and Roy enjoyed it more than he should. It felt great knowing that Lian was in capable, non vigilante hands when he was away and she had a female role model to who doesn’t fight crime in spandex.
Roy also adored Wren. She took a minute to break out of her shell, but she reminded him a lot of Jason. A quiet type who surprised him with her temper and mischief. He can see why (Y/N) is the kind of parent she is and how she easily keeps Wren and Lian in line.
Over the weeks, Wren and Lian became the dynamic duo of Star Academy. They did everything together and would cry if they couldn’t. The two even begged their respective parents for matching Bluey backpacks and sparkly shoes so they can match all the time. They even developed a cute habit of leaving colored drawings under the apartment doors for the other to find. The friendship was very heart warming and helped form the bond between their parents.
The two had a lot in common too. More than they expected.
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“Wanna beer?” Roy offered as he stood up from the couch.
“No thank you.” She answers as she focuses on wrapping the present infront of her.
Tomorrow was Wren’s birthday, and while the girls are having a sleep over in Lian’s room, Roy and (Y/N) prepped for her birthday party.
“You sure, doll?” He says as he grabs a couple beers. He sits beside her and holds his open bottle near her as he jokes. “You gonna let me drink alone, and make me look depressed?”
Her eyes darken as she scoots away from him. The air turning cold as she snaps on him. “I said No, Roy.”
Roy immediately freezes before frowning in concern. He puts the beer on the coffee table as he whispers to her. “Hey, I’m sorry…”
Her eyes relax as her shoulders slump. She sighs softly as she mumbles. “No, I’m sorry…”
She reaches into her pocket a pulls out a familiar looking token and hands it to him. A 5 year sobriety coin. His brows shoot up as he looks at her in shock.
She giggles somberly as she says, “it’s not mine. It’s my Dad’s.”
She pulls her knees to her chest as she looks to the wall around the muted tv. Pictures lining the wall of Lian and Roy with some of just them or with friends. She smiles softly as she recounts.
“My dad was a bad alcoholic, but a good dad. He would take me with him everywhere he could and it would be like everyday was a good day. I was too young to realize he drank too much or he yelled at my mom a little too harshly.” She says as she picks at the material of her socked covered feet.
“It wasn’t until I got pregnant with Wren that he realized he had to sober up. He managed to stay clean for almost 6 years until a drunk driver hit him.” She chuckles sadly as she sees the irony in her dad’s death. “He even help me leave my ex who was also a bad drinker. I guess seeing my dad doing it my whole life, I thought it was normal…”
Her arms wrapping around herself before finally looking back at Roy. Her eyes meeting his green ones, her gaze watery as she wipes the tears away.
“I’m sorry, that was too much to put on you..” she said as her voice wavers a bit. “You can drink though I don’t-“
Roy gets up and takes his beers to the kitchen. Confused by his abruptness, she follows him, only to see him dumping out his open beer and starting to dump out the other one. She looks at him confused as he finishes dumping the liquid out before he pulls out his wallet and pulls out a coin.
He hands both coins to her as she reads the one he pulled out of his wallet. 7 years sobriety.
“You were…?” She mumbles is disbelief before he answers.
“Yep, former heroine addict…” he says as he leans back against the counter. His arms flexing as he crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes shining with seriousness as he says,
“I understand why your dad got help. I did the same thing when I found out about Lian, and I don’t ever wanna do anything that can jeopardize giving her a better life than I had…”
An emotion crosses his face that makes her nervous but excited as he admits.
“And I don’t want to do anything that would drive you out of mine.”
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“Please, (Y/N)!” Lian begs as Wren stands behind her with her puppy dog eyes shining behind her.
Those were the famous last words that were said when Lian and Wren convinced her to allow them to go to a slumber party while Roy was out of town. (Y/N) didn’t see the harm since it was Friday night and the girls had been good. Besides, Roy was supposed to be home late tonight so he can enjoy his Saturday morning resting.
It was a good idea. Or at least that’s what she thought before she got mugged on her way home from dropping off the girls.
The woman didn’t see it coming when she was snatched off the street and pinned to an alley wall as a disgust voice coos at her.
“Easy, Babygirl.” The masked man purrs as his dirty finger nails digged into her arms. “Just give me your purse and we can both walk away happy.”
“Fuck off!” She says as she tries to yank away from him .
“Now don’t be such a-!” His growl interrupted as the swoop of air shoots between them. She looks to where it lands and sees a red arrow buried into the wall behind them. The mugger was the first to look back to where it came from before gasping,
“Arsenal? What’s he doing here?” He curses as he pulls (Y/N) in front of him, making the struggling woman a human shield. “I’m armed, and I’m not afraid to hurt the bitch!” He says as he pulls out a knife and holds it to her neck.
(Y/N) only heard about the vigilante through the news. Apparently he used to be Green Arrow’s sidekick before he went solo for some reason and he was a rough guy. He works with the Red Hood who was known for killing criminals so she understood why the man was scared as a figure dropped down from a rooftop with his bow ready to shoot.
Her panic setting in as the bite of the blade was pressed hard to her neck, the anxious blade knicking her. Her panic eyes were set on the archer as she watches him slowly approach.
He looked…familiar. His height and built was impressive despite him being more on the leaner side and his features not obstructed by his sunglasses and hat reminded her of Roy…
“Let the girl go.” Arsenal warns the burglar. His voice was deep, but it didn’t sound natural. It was like he was trying to make his voice sound different. “You’re just pissing me off more and I’m gonna end up breaking your eye socket in.”
The criminal trembles before deciding the best escape plan. He grabs ahold of her purse before throwing her in Arsenal’s direction. Unprepared to the violent shove, (Y/N) falls to the ground before the vigilante can catch her. Her yelp filling space as the hero kneels down beside her to make sure she wasn’t stabbed.
“Hey, you alright?” He says as he scans her body for any serious injury.
She pushes herself up, cringes as her wrist throbs. His large gloved hands on her back and shoulder as he helps her stand when she notices his exposed arm. A familiar faded green tattoo visible on his bicep as the pieces fall together.
“Roy?…” She asks as she looks up Arsenal. Despite his eyes being covered, she can tell he was looking at her in a panic that she figured him out.
“Yea…” He confirms before looking behind her as he realizes the motherfucker stole her purse. He pulls his aviators down to the bridge of his nose, his eyes shining in concern as he mumbles to her.
“Go home. I’ll meet you there so we can talk about it.”
The look in his eyes and the pounding adrenaline makes her fear melt away as she nods her head.
“Okay.”
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The throbbing pain in her wrist didn’t stop when she finally made it back to her apartment building, acting as her anchor as the revelation that Roy’s secret night job was him being a Robin Hood copycat.
Thinking back on it, she should have figured he wasn’t a normal guy. Constant bruises, noticeable limps, and stolen ibuprofen were a routine in their life.
The thought made her stop for a second in the stair way.
Their life. The one they shared for months basically together. At first it was just two single parents helping each other out while their daughters bonded. Then her and Roy began to get close, close enough to where they were constant in each other’s apartments as the other child was.
Now he saved her life…maybe he already did that the first day in the city and she babysat a kid she didn’t know…
As she reaches the arch way between the two apartments, her hands searches her pockets for her keys when disappointment answers her.
The keys were in her purse.
With a sigh, she decides to sit on the ground besides Roy’s door as she waits. (Y/N) curls herself into a ball with her knees to her chest as she felt the familiar feeling of exhaustion nipping her eyelashes.
(Y/N) was a hard working woman. When she wasn’t working herself like a dog in the Emergency Room, she was handling a 4 foot ball of attitude. She didn’t have time for any ventures outside of that. She loves Wren with all her heart, but that doesn’t help the hollow part of her heart from throbbing…maybe someday she can give Wren a father who’s worth something. But right now, she was too damn tired.
The door opens behind her as she jumps awake. The woman didn’t even realize she almost fell asleep, but a warm hand opens in front of her as she looks up.
Roy was standing in front of her now. A grey zip up was pulled over his shoulders to cover his costume as her purse hanged on his arm. His soft smile made her stomach flutter as he breaks the silence.
“I guess I got some explaining to do…”
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead she gives him her hand and stands up with his help. Her injured wrist cradled to her chest as they enter the apartment. The movement still felt natural despite the circumstances. Roy didn’t even have to ask about her arm to know she needed first aid on her wrist.
He tended to her sprained wrist as he tells her his life story. She already knew about the general events of his childhood and his life with Oliver Queen, but didn’t know he was a sidekick turned mercenary. The whole story made her head spin as she thought about the man tending to her as a boy wearing yellow and red spandex and managing to attract a female assassin who was Lian’s actual mother…
“So…” Roy says as he expects some sort of reaction out of her.
“So… You are a vigilante…Ollie and Dinah are too.” She recounts as she rubs her bandaged wrists. “And your ex is an assassin…”
(Y/N) sighs before looking at the nervous ginger fidgeting in his seat. His nerves were haywire.
‘What if she leaves?’
‘What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me or Lian anymore?”
‘Is she gonna keep Wren from Lian and Me?’
“Okay”
The phrase makes Roy’s neck snap was he blinks wildly at her. His heart pounding as he scans her completely calm face with a soft smile on her face as she giggles at his baffled expression.
“Okay? That’s all you gotta say?”
“I mean sure I’m not a fan of the whole putting yourself in danger shtick, but if that’s the only downside to you, then I’m okay with it.” She says calmly before giving him a serious glare. “Just as long as the girls are never endangered.”
Roy couldn’t help but fall out of his chair and on his knees infront of her as he laughs. His hands pulling her into his lap as he enjoys the chill of relief as his body yearns for the reassurance of her touch. It wasn’t until he cupped her face that he realized just how intimate their position was.
Definitely not something friends should be doing….
But are they just friends?
“Roy…” She mumbles. Her eyes speaking to his soul as the exhaustion and months of connecting and yearning reach the apex. Or maybe it was the reflection of his own feelings bubbling up as he moves her hair away from her face.
“I promise I’ll never let anything happen to you or our girls…I can’t afford to lose them…or us.”
The first move wasn’t clear. The blur of teeth and tongue distracting him as their hands held the pair close. His hands adjusting her to straddle his lap as hers ran through his hair and over his strong shoulders. His mouth trailing down her jawline and caresses her throat as her hips began to grind into his.
“Aw, poor thing…” Roy coos as his hips rolled to meet hers. His eyes shining with adoration as he marks her smooth skin. “How long has it been since anyone took care of you?”
She rolls her eyes at his teasing before pulling his head back by his hair. “When was the last time you got took care of, Red?”
He glares playfully with a smirk as he says, “Don’t call me Red.”
She giggles as she presses a soft kiss to his cheek before trailing along his jawline. Her breath burning his soul as she whispers, “Then how about…baby?”
He rips her back away by her nape before crashing his lips onto hers. The desperation dewing the walls around them as their soft moans and movement of clothes made their company.
His hands hungry as he finally pulls away from her long enough to push off her sweatshirt. A groan of appreciation fills the space as he admires her body. Every visible scar, freckle, mole, stretch mark, and roll made him want to explore every story that lead her to his arms. But that’s for another time.
His mouth watered as he looks back up at her.
“So pretty, Ma…”
His prayer is followed by his mouth devouring her skin as he kisses her collarbone. Her feathery moans filling the space while his hands caresses her exposed torso. He trails down to the valley of her breasts before pushing the offending bra up so they spill out. Roy couldn’t resist kissing around her sensitive skin, teasing her as her hands tangle in the mess of ginger on his head.
“Baby please…” she whines as her hips roll impulsively on his.
Her underwear was impossibly uncomfortable. Her body burning like iron as her intimate parts tried to cool down. The friction of her jean covered core against the rough tackle gear of his suit did not help as his hand began to grope her other breast.
His chuckle vibrates against the globe of fat as his fingers pinch the stiffening nub.
“Can’t wait to get me in bed? My, you certainly are a romantic.”
Before she can shoot back at him, he withdraws completely from her chest and his hands roughly cup her thighs. In a swift motion, Roy picks her up as he stands up from the floor. The pair share a soft laugh as her brief shock and his amusement leads them to his bedroom.
Once he places her on the bed, (Y/N) sheds off her sweatshirt and bra as Roy whistles in appreciation.
“I love when you strip for me.” He jokes as lust clouded his vision. “Can you do that again but slower?”
She glares at him as she leans back onto her hands as she tilts her head. Mischief fills her eyes as she examines him up and down with her lip between her teeth.
“Then how about you put a show on for me since you want one?” She teases.
His smirk widens as he decides to follow her suggestion. Roy rolls his shoulders back before reaching to slowly unzip the jacket covering his suit. Making a show of pulling it off his arms before twirling it over his head and tossing it.
Laughing follows his movements as he slowly strips off his gear as her hungry and amused eyes followed every rolling muscle exposed to her.
“Damn…” She whispers as a nearly nude Roy begins to crawl on the bed towards her. His prominent bones straining against his boxers as she continues. “And I wondered why you didn’t have a girlfriend…”
He laughs as he cages her in his arms. His ginger hair acting as a curtain over his forehead as he shrugs above her. “Maybe I was waiting on the right one.”
Their lips meet again as their hands began to map out each other. Soon all the rest of the clothes joined the floor.
His erection bobbing between them as his eyes remains trained on hers. His fingers trailing down to her exposed sex, groaning as he runs a finger between her folds.
“Already wet? And without foreplay?” He asks as faux sympathy plays on his face. “My darling clearly neglected that she gets wet from a few kisses…”
“I’m not neglected…” She protests before she whimpers as the bite from his finger entering her unused cunt hits her.
“I wasn’t talking body you directly, baby.” He corrects as his finger thrusts softly along her fleshy walls. The lewd sounds of her moans mixed with her wet sex made him melt as she begs,
“Fuck…quit teasing already, you bastard…”
He decides to oblige by adding another finger to speed up his pace. The thumb on the other hand joining the fun as it rubbed patterns into her puffy clit.
“I got get you all nice and ready..” Roy mumbles as he leans down to press soft kisses on her stomach up to her breasts. The mixture of gentle pecks mixed with the harsh stimulation below driving his lover insane as her hips arched to meet his hands.
“You deserve all that I can give for being such a good mom .” He praises her as he feels her walls clench around his knuckles when he finds the spongy mass he was searching for.
He contradicts himself by abusing that with archer like precision as the coil roughly tightens in her gut. (Y/N)’s gasps and cries desperate for the climax as she grips the hard flesh of his back. Just as she was reaching the peak, he stops.
“Asshole!” She curses at him as he pulls out of her. He chuckles before licking the tip of his soiled finger. Her eyes burning onto his mouth as he groans at the taste.
“Sweet as I thought..” he praises as he uses the hand to pump his cock. He climbs on top of her as he continues. “I’m gonna have to have a better taste next time, but I need you too bad right now…”
She calms her raging breaths as she smiles softly. “Next time?”
Roy pulls her legs up to her chest as he hooks her ankles on his shoulders. His red hot tip played with her clit as he rubs it through her soaked folds. He chuckles at her hopeful voice as he leans down to press a soft peck to her lips.
“Of course,” Roy whispers as his tip catches the entrance. “I don’t think I can go back to being friends after this..”
He slowly pushes into her as her hands shoot onto him as best she could. With her legs pinned to her chest, she can only grasp his bicep and his lower back as she is forced to endure the painful stretch of her neglected cunt welcoming him.
A groan ripping in his throat as he finally seats himself fully into her before peppering kisses on her face.
“Was gonna ask you out on a nice date without the kids around…gonna see if we would be a good fit.” He mutters as his mind seems to run on blanks. His hips rolling to gain some friction in the tight confines of her walls.
Her little breathless moans encouraging him as Roy begins to thrust shallowly to work her open before he pulls out almost completely. He slams back into her befor continuing his non coherent comment.
“But fuck…I don’t regret this. God, if I knew you would look so fucking hot in my bed…” He groans as his head dips to bite along her neck. “And your pussy is so tight…It’s driving me crazy. I wonder how a sweet thing like you could like me…”
His cock messaging all the right nerves in her as (Y/N)’s nails clawed into him. Her moans turning to incoherent shrieks as his tip abuses her spot, remembering exactly where it was when he found it earlier. Her guts twisting at both the words and his abusing pace. The denied orgasm from earlier building back up as her desperation grew wilder.
“God, Roy…So full…so good.”
Fuck she looked pretty. Her lips wet with tears and sip as she cries. Her eyes blown out in addictive lust and watery tears. Roy couldn’t help but cup her jaw in his hand and kisses her. The now familiar taste of mint and nicotine making her more addicted as his tongue claimed every inch of hers. He pulls away as his groans start matching her whines as his hand snakes between them to rub her clit.
“Honey, I may have to fuck a baby into you…” He mumbles as he buries his face in her neck. Her walls responding in a vice grip as he roughens his pace to meet their impending climax. “You like that, pretty girl? Want me to knock you up and give Wren and Lian a little sibling? Give you a nice big family with a white picket fence? God, you’re such a sweet thing that I wouldn’t mind keeping you as my pretty little girlfriend…”
“Roy!” She whines as her body shakes. Her walls closing in on him as she finally reaches her peak. Her eyes rolling back as stars cross her vision before Roy slams into her one more time as his hot cum fills her welcoming womb.
The pair remain still for a moment as soft pecks were exchange. Roy gently pulls out before he helps his love stretch back out. His hands massaging her thighs before grabbing his abandoned jacket to wipe her thighs and himself clean.
“You wanna go out tomorrow?” Her cracked voice catching the archer off guard before he smiles.
“With or without children?”
“Without. They are at a sleep over and gonna go to the zoo tomorrow with their friends.”
“Then it’s a date.”
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A/N: Okay I didn’t know how to end this because Ngl I was tired on working on this tbh. I hope y’all enjoyed reading this and let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs are encouraged.
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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE MY WORKS TO BE STOLEN, PLAGIARIZED, COPIED, REPOSTED, OR TRANSFERRED ONTO OTHER BLOGS, ACCOUNTS, AND WEBSITES.
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icyminghao · 11 months ago
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the world of fiction
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pairing: jihoon x gn!reader genre: fluff, crack, established relationship, drabble warning(s): mentions of death (of fictional characters) word count: 0.7k
summary: jihoon comes home to the sound of you crying, and he’s utterly confused as to why.
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Coming home to the sound of you crying was not what Jihoon expected to be greeted with.
But he’s here now, in this very moment, feet rooted to the floor as he faintly hears your muffled sobs from the bedroom.
Jihoon freezes, racking his brain for anything that could have happened in the past twenty-four hours that could have upset you.
Did he do something wrong? Not that he’s aware of. Did you have a bad day at work? You took the day off, citing a self-care day. Are you mad that he wasn’t here to accompany you? You specifically told him not to waste his breaks despite his insistence, reassuring him that you were probably just going to sleep in and finish the manga you were hooked on recently.
Right, Jihoon’s eyes widen, you said you were going to finish the manga.
In all his years of knowing and loving you, Jihoon will never get used to the way you tend to get emotionally attached to whatever you read or watch.
To him, the ending of a story just means that he can move on to another, but to you, the ending of a story is like the end of a world you’ve grown much too fond of. The reality of having to part with the characters and the story always puts you in a depressed state for a few days at the least.
It’s why Jihoon tends to gift you books or recommend you shows that are part of a long series, so you can stay in their world for longer.
Quickly removing his shoes, Jihoon practically bolts to your shared bedroom upon recalling your plan for the day, and sure enough, you’re curled up on your side of the bed, one hand clutching the last volume of the manga Jihoon had recommended a while back and sobbing into your pillow.
You lock eyes with Jihoon’s worried ones as he stands by the bedroom door, and you start sobbing even harder.
“y/n…” Jihoon carefully walks closer towards you, slowly sitting beside you as he reaches for your free hand.
“Ji…” you whine in between sobs, “I finished the manga.”
Jihoon resists the urge to smile at how cute you’re being right now. “I know, baby. How was it?”
“It’s so… sad!” you sniffle, moving to bury your head in Jihoon’s lap as you wrap your arms around his torso. “Too many people died. But they were all reincarnated and happy at the end, so I am, too…”
Jihoon smiles, very evidently endeared by your rambling. He looks down at your tear-stricken face, wiping away your stray tears with his thumbs. “It’s a happy ending, baby, don’t cry.”
“I’m just sad that it’s over, Ji,” you pout, and Jihoon cups your face with both hands. “Thank you for recommending the manga to me.”
Jihoon hums. “It’s not over yet, you know.”
Upon processing the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, you sit up, eyes widening in anticipation. “There’s more?”
Jihoon chuckles.
While he was picking out what to recommend to you, the deciding factor came down to its length (provided that the story was good, of course). Jihoon knew you would devour books or mangas in record speed, so he came prepared.
And what better than a manga series and an anime series?
“They adapted the manga series into an anime,” Jihoon explains, watching as your eyes light up, “It’s not complete yet, but the last arc is coming soon in the form of three movies.”
You squeal, practically pouncing on your boyfriend as you engulf him in a bear hug. Jihoon falls backwards onto the bed from the impact, laughing.
“It’s not over!” You exclaim, “Where can I watch the anime? Have you watched it yet?”
Jihoon rolls over so the both of you are now lying on your sides, looking into each other’s eyes. He shakes his head.
“I haven’t. I was waiting for you so we could watch it together.”
“I love you.” you declare immediately, and Jihoon blushes furiously before letting out the softest, most endeared laugh.
“I love you too, baby.”
Jihoon may never get used to the way you tend to get emotionally attached to whatever you read or watch, but he sure as hell will do anything to let you enjoy the various worlds you end up in for as long as possible.
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a/n: i have been. like. word vomiting in my wips and i feel like everything i write is so bad it is absolutely unpublishable but i just finished demon slayer and i got so sad so i decided to write this. very self-indulgent i love demon slayer the last arc broke me and i’m so excited for the movies. need somebody to match my freak like jihoon does for reader here
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @kwantaro-deactivated20240614 @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @leehanascent @nonononranghaee
masterlist
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weneeya · 3 months ago
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hi, i had this idea for a while that jason is very s/o that thinks they're too hard to love (plus if they've never been treated right) x guy that loves them as easily as breathing</3
maybe I'm projecting and honestly thinking about it gives me a lot of comfort because I've never experienced something like that, and that's why I decided to request this anonymously, i feel a little ashamed T-T
too hard to love m.list | rules
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pairing. jason x reader
note. hi! don't be ashamed it's fine to find comfort in this, and i hope my writing will help you get even more comfort <3
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You couldn’t be loved, that was what you kept repeating to yourself all the time since your last breakup. Why? Because it was what everyone always told you. You had never, ever, been treated well before, but in your eyes, it was all your fault. You weren’t loveable ; you had your own problems which always ended up ruining your relationships. Your lack of confidence was probably the worst thing, you knew it, but you couldn’t do much about it. You tried, really, but everything just brought you back to this fact. You weren’t loveable. 
Until you met Jason. The man was surely traumatized and tortured himself, but when he met you, it was like everything made sense for him. He fell in love with you in one look, and it was easy as breathing was for him. He knew the troubles you had believing it, but he never understood it. How could you think you were difficult to love? It was the simplest thing he had ever done. 
It took months for you to accept to go out on a date with him. Not only you thought he was doing it to make fun of you or because of pity, but you also thought it was useless. A date for what? To see the disappointment in his eyes? You’d rather not. But after weeks of him asking you again and again, you finally said yes. 
It went well, you couldn’t deny it. Jason was a sweet guy, probably the sweetest anyone had ever been with you before ; but it might hide something. it had to, you were sure of it. He spent months and months of yearning for you not silently until you agreed to go out with him, for real. 
You were afraid, because you haven’t been in a relationship since so long ; and the last one surely didn’t end well. But Jason kept on reassuring you that it would be okay, and that everything would only be fine. He was enough of a sweet talker to convince you. 
But the doubt never left. It never left the back of your mind, and even if sometimes it was easier, there were nights where everything was so difficult. Jason was out tonight, because the man was a vigilante after all, so it wasn’t rare for you to spend nights on your own.
Tonight was specifically rude for you. You couldn’t sleep at all, and after turning around over and over in your too large bed, you decided to leave it. You walked in the living room, going back on your own steps. Your mind was driving you mad, until you began to feel dizzy. You sat on your kitchen’s floor, your breath heavy. A panic attack. Great. 
Your nails were scratching your poor damaged wrist, your eyes lost the void, not able to focus on anything else. You didn’t even realize the tears which were falling down your cheeks, until you noticed a broad figure in front of you. You looked up, only to meet Jason’s worried face. He wasn’t touching you at all, knowing it would overwhelm you more than anything else. 
“Deep breath, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay,” his soft whisper slightly brought you back to reality, making you close your eyes to try to focus on him and nothing else. “That’s it, listen to me.” And it kept going for a few more moments until you were able to calm down at least a little. 
Once you were feeling a bit better, Jason took you to the couch, making you lay down there while he was on his knees next to it, your hand in his own. He stayed silent for a moment, waiting for the right time to ask you the question that was burning his lips. “What happened?” He finally asked, and you took a deep breath, trying to explain it to him. 
It was your own insecurities that made you like this, the way you were so scared that he would disappear one day because he had realized how difficult you were and how better his life would be without you in it. You expected him to frown, be frustrated, anything ; but it never came. His fingers reached for your face, putting a strand of hair away from your face with the most gentle touch anyone ever had towards you. 
“Loving you is not difficult. Actually, it’s the easiest thing I've ever done. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met in my life, and if you want me to, I could make a whole list of everything that makes me love you so much.” You slowly looked up at him, expecting everything but this. You blinked a few times, before you simply nodded a little, which made him chuckle a bit. 
Sitting down on the floor next to the couch, his fingers gently playing with your hair, he began to say one by one all the small things that you were doing that made his heart race like crazy. It made you realize that perhaps he really wasn’t lying at all ; and maybe you weren’t as hard to love as you thought you were. It would be a long path until you completely accept this, but you knew that Jason would be by your side during the whole process ; and it warmed your heart.
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thank you!
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moonselune · 11 months ago
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How do you think the BG3 companions would be as parents or aunties/uncles? I personally headcanon that Shadowheart would be a very doting mother but would be the fun aunt.
OOoooOOOOoOO yes I'm doing this for all of them, no character can escape me now
Karlach:
As an aunt:
She is definitely the auntie that comes round and the children just band together trying to take her to the ground
"Get Auntie Karlach"
And how auntie Karlach puts up a fight, she is swinging children around throwing them onto soft furnishings, tickling them.
Eventually she will relent and let the children pin her to the floor, pretending to 'die'
Though she has done this too convincingly and it too you half an hour to calm your child down, assuring them that auntie karlach was not in fact dead, and this was their aunt and not a zombie.
If there's just one child, you know that when they hear auntie karlach is coming round they are using al of their free time strategising on how to get her
Karlach will sometime take them as their hostage and refuse to let them go when they are hugging and just carries them around till you agree to her terms
Which is either a later bedtime for you (because at this point you have joined forces) or extra cake.
As a mother:
Mama K !!!!
So caring and doting, nothing is too much for her
She would move mountains for her kid and support them regardless
They want to be a bookworm? She wants to hear all your favourite stories
They are more sporty, she will beat them at every game and only occasionally let them win
Is honestly a big kid herself so I can so imagine, you having to call them in for dinner and they are both pouting saying that want to play outside for longer
definitely the less strict parent, they could probably get away with anything
as long as it doesn't mean they get hurt
as soon as they get hurt, mama k is not letting them out of their sight for a WEEK
Minthara:
As an aunt:
Not my kid, not my responsibility attitude
you want a dagger? Sure here's how to hold it properly
you cut yourself on it, that's too damn bad learn to hold it better
definitely buys them a ridiculous amount of expensive gifts but she doesn't really realise it
think of the vibe of "What can one banana cost? ten dollars?"
as soon as they get messy or are dirty they are not coming within 10 feet of her
Snot bubble? That child is getting yeeted across the room
Very much this
As a mother:
I have so many thoughts about this
I think because of her exile she would look at the drow matron system much differently
Instead of raising children to be pawns and agents of her plan there would be a deeper level of relationship meaning a deeper level of loyalty.
Loyalty is a big thing for Minthara and what is more loyal than the unconditional love of a child
so she is going to nurture and tend to that relationship, make that bond between her and her child incredibly strong, they want the child to adore her and respect her, so she will adore and respect them back (that's what she tells herself, in reality she loves her children dearly)
She will dote on them, ensure they only have the best, this is her child after all
Very possessive of the child, and very overprotective
Would definitely guilt the child
but that's probably the worst part of her parenting overall I feel like she would be a very fair and good parent in general (especially compared to normal drow mothers)
Lae'zel:
As an aunt:
aunt? more like coach.
she is training them to be the best warrior or whatever they want to be ever
will she drag your child out of bed at the crack of dawn so they can practice
will then tell them Gith stories when the child starts to fall asleep on them afterwards
carries them with care and tenderness
is so bad for contradicting you
parent said no? Well auntie Lae'zel says yes so lets do it
not allowed this thing? here's ten of them
As a mother:
I actually think she would be rather laid back
she wouldn't fret over them and trust that they knew what they were doing
though as soon as they don't know what they are doing she is there right away to hover over them and help
slightly protective but only because she doesn't trust others
teaches them self defence at the youngest age possible
tells them the best bedtime stories in extremely graphic detail to the point where you have to step in
but the child doesn't mind
in fact how did they manage to get to sleep so easily
her kid is better than the rest, can do no wrong, bad grades? More like bad teacher.
Shadowheart:
As an aunt:
Wine aunt - it's basically canon at this point, so all of these will be with a glass of wine in her hand lmao
Would be so down to have tea parties with them
prefers the sit down games rather than the running around screaming ones - those are for auntie karlach
Shows you all of her animals and teaches you their names and how to care for them
would definitely give them a pet even if you had already said no
and by the time you realise what's happened your child is too attached to it
definitely would let them mess around, and be like if you hurt yourself its your fault
but as soon as they hurt themselves, she's there healing them bribing them not to tell you what happened
As a mother:
helicopter mom to begin with and then eventually when her child proves to be more robust than expected she relaxes a bit
just says yes to any animal they find and want to bring home
so now there's foxy, ratty, mousey and badgery (Shadowheart tried to suggest names but they were having none of it)
Is always there for you no matter what, you can tell her anything and you feel like you can tell her anything
has a tendency to be a little strict but only for your own good
Jaheira:
As an aunt:
she is the aunt of all aunts
gives the best hugs, tells you the best stories
teases you all the time
just constant poking fun
and the day you give it back
she is just so proud
also has that attitude of 'not my kid not my responsibility' but that is such a lie
will love you like her own
As a mother:
we already see what Jaheira is like a mother
very welcoming but has a habit to push them away when there's danger involved or perhaps can be preoccupied with 'the greater good'
I also think that Jaheira is the type of mother to keep everything, every baby tooth, every drawing, everything
She keeps them in a little chest and when she is down she looks at them and she always feels so much better.
Gale:
As an uncle:
hey kids wanna see a cool trick
blows up the living room
"DO IT AGAIN!"
brings them books on just everything
reads to them a lot and teaches them things that they probably shouldn't know at their age
the kid needs an alibi?
Gale is there for it
We've seen his dialogue in the grove, we all know that he supports childhood deliquency and he will so support them in it
As a father:
Thinks their child is the most precious thing in the world
the light of his life (aside from you)
will teach them magic before they can even speak
puts on the most beautiful illusions for the child to sleep to
lives just to see them smile
very overprotective and guilty of infantilising your child
he can't help it, you are just so adorable
PTA Mom, he runs that motherfucker
No stacey, your lemon buns are not acceptable, and no its not because my child detests them, get a grip
he just absolutely adores his child
Astarion:
As an uncle:
Astarion would steal your child to help with his schemes and nobody can convince me otherwise
You think I? With this adorable baby on my hip, would steal your fine jewels? Honestly the audacity
Uses your child as an alibi
How could I do it? I was tending to my dear child
Ser that's not your-
MY DEAR CHILD
Much like Minthara, loves the child until they start making a mess
Would so make them little outfits and the child's teddies little outfits
As a father:
I believe that Astarion would see the child as his absolute fresh start
he is going to be the best version of himself for the child
he is going to try his absolute best for them
going to give them the world
will definitely teach them to lock pick at a young age
and again uses them as an alibi
You think I, with my adorable impressionable child right here, would steal? Truly your standard of parenting may be low but mine is not.
When the baby is on the way he is just stress sewing, your house is filled with baby clothes, blankets, quilts, hats anything Astarion could imagine that the child might need
your child in not wearing the same outfit twice, not because of fashion, no because there are simply so many outfits
Wyll:
As an uncle:
Would be the best story teller, and does all the voices and personas
Loves to play and mess around with them
Would teach them how to sword fight like he did with the children in the grove
Would spoil them rotten as well and know he was doing it though if confronted he would play so dumb
What do you mean I only got them this wooden rocking horse, I could have got them two - but I didn't !
As a father:
very similar to Wyll as an uncle
but imagine him passing down all of the stories and life lessons that his father passed down to him
but the thing that gets me in the feels
is him teaching the child how to dance
from them dancing on his toes to them being able to pull of a move flawlessly
Wyll would genuinely get emotional when you no longer need his guidance or help
And by emotional I mean sobbing
definitely overprotective when it comes to your potential dance partners and all that
no one will ever be good enough for his child
Halsin:
As an uncle:
would just steal the child
it is his now
so sorry for your loss but this is definitely not ur baby
yes they look identical but this one belongs to the forest
oh gods he would so kidnap the child if you lived in the city
but to him it's not kidnapping
it's rescuing
the city doesn't deserve such a treasure
teaches them how to carve wood and instills an important respect for nature into them
if your child got in an argument with you they would so pull the
"Well fine! I'm just going to live in the forest with Uncle Halsin!"
As a father:
They are so precious to him
When he looks into their eyes the world is just right
Their first word is bear, obviously
Teaches them druidic magic and how to wildshape
as soon as your child figures it out it is chaos
you have a bear and baby bear running riot
very hesitant to let you go out into the city
to go far from him actually
he has just lost so much
he cannot afford to lose you too
apart from that, he is the best
Rolan:
As an uncle:
the BEST
shows them so many cool tricks
definitely gives them spell books that they probably definitely should not have
would so side with them if they argued with their parent, regardless of if the child is in the right or not
he knows how his siblings can be
shows off to the kid all the time
when they were a baby they would tell Rolan he's found his perfect audience - one that can only watch in wonder
but as you grow you always demand that Uncle Rolan shows your his magic
and it warms his heart every single time
As a father:
He would be so nervous bless him
always thinking he is doing something wrong
but he is an amazing father
encourages and supports their ambitions
reads to them
I just have a picture of Rolan with a baby sling, tending to Ramazith's tower, just thinking aloud to them and when they babble back he exclaims how glad he is that they agree with them
very overprotective
he just doesn't want them to get hurt, like ever.
the child could scrape their knee and say they are fine and Rolan would be having a meltdown
Cannot handle you growing up
You will always be his baby
Raphael:
As an uncle:
I can't imagine him being a very doting uncle
Raphael most likely has loads of nieces and nephews and he does not care for a single one of them
unless
unless one of them is showing particular talent, something that he needs and then he is all over them
would definitely get them in a contract
"You can trust me, your dear Uncle, now just sign there.."
As a father:
M y h e i r
So devoted and dedicated to them
But also possessive and controlling I can imagine
He dictates their schedule, their schooling, where they go, what they wear, who they socialise with
they will be spectacular, his little hellfire
though lets say they disobeyed him, they snuck out for a few hours or so
they are not leaving the house of hope for a few months or so
that's how it works
they will obey him, and they will love him, he is their father, their creator
and if anyone hurts his child?
he will drag the offender to deepest pits of hell and make his child watch as a show of his love for them.
I'm so sorry that this was stuck in the drafts for so long but here it is ! These are mainly a collection of my own rambling thoughts but hope others enjoy it too ! - Seluney xox
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machveil · 8 months ago
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Heheheh
Loser! Konig when after the soldiers pull their prank on him you reverse the roles.
You catch him alone (or invite him somewhere private under a guise) and try to confront him about what happened. He doesn't want to talk about it and tries to avoid the subject. Looking like a scolded schoolboy hunched in his seat, feeling hot embarrassment swell in his throat as he looks at the floor to avoid eye contact.
He hears you get up and walk behind him and assumes you're leaving. Of course you are, he fucked up, he never should have ever assumed someone could like him and now look at how he's embarrassed himself. It's probably for the best that you leave before you see his tears-
Your hand snakes around his throat to tilt his head back the same way he did to you so he can look at you standing above him. Breath hitching.
You scold him for not making eye contact. "Can't even look me in the eye? Acting so shy now, surely you remember being so bold before."
He leans into your hand, eyes rolling back and lips parting in euphoria if he presses against you hard enough maybe you'll leave a mark
He's so out of it he fails to react when your hand leaves his neck and only notices when your thumb swipes some drool leaking from his lips and presses on his tongue.
He has to blink himself back to reality just in time to hear you tell him to find you when he plans on being anything more than a coward as you leave the room.
oh my god, I didn’t think this could get any better— (in reference to this post and the follow up)
CW: light choking, humiliation, König gets hard twice, back at it with the Loser!König vibes
he really couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge you. he wanted to, but that burning guilt in his chest always clawed up his throat when he caught a glimpse of you. wrapped a hand around your neck in a drunken stupor
he could only apologize so many times before fleeing - never letting you get a word in. if he did, he was sure all you’d say was how disgusting he was, a pervert. someone you considered a friend, sneaking up on you, condescending tone as he asked you to speak a language you didn’t know. ‘Ich liebe dich’ - he can hardly believe he asked you to say that
and yet, that confused look in your eyes as he held you? he can’t stop thinking about it. it’s burned into his mind, a blessing and a curse - you looked cute, brows knit and lips a little pouty with concern… but that shame would come back to gnaw at his mind. a double edged sword, but that expression of yours outweighs his guilt at night behind closed doors
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he shouldn’t be turned on over what happened - but in that moment you looked so helpless to him. you aren’t, you’re still a soldier, but in his twisted mind you looked fragile. he was embarrassed when he fled, red hot anger in his chest from being lied to, but oh so achingly hard when he reached his room that night
he was used to hiding under his sheets, used to bucking into his fist as he imagined you, but this time? the shame and guilt eating at his mind - instead of picturing you under him, all König could think about was you calling him gross, vile for assuming you’d like him. cheeks flushed with humiliation, because that’s what it was to him. humiliated that he’d bought into a lie, humiliated that he was getting off on what happened
a long night, alone in his dark room moaning - your voice degrading him echoing in his head. he couldn’t say when he fell asleep, but when he woke up that morning he decided it’d be better to apologize again, repeatedly, and leave. leave you alone, pine from afar, and keep himself company at night with thoughts of you
and that’s what he did - it’s been a few days since then. as large as he was, he was surprisingly good at evading you. it’s difficult for him when you have to see each other, the forced proximity twisting his gut with nerves. he missed the butterflies you gave him, the warmth that bloomed in his chest. he still thinks about you smiling at him, a small distraction as he walks away from the training grounds, unaware of you coming up behind him
“König! Hey, come here for a second.”, he’s sure he’s just hearing something, his heads so caught up with guilt that your voice is just playing in his mind. but when he feels a hand grab his wrist, he looks down and sees you, his blood running cold as you look up at him, “Just wait a second, please?”
all you get are icy eyes staring down at you - his flushed face hidden behind his hood, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. all he can muster is a curt nod, his throat dry as he tries to breathe in, “Can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me and— well, I think we just need to talk about what happened, okay?”
you’re met with silence, hand falling from his wrist as he stares. you’re about to turn around, call this a lost cause and try again later when he speaks, “Okay.”. his voice was strained, small when it was usually a little louder. it made your heart twist hearing him like that - even if he was reserved and didn’t speak much, he’d still carry confidence when he spoke to you. he did before
a beat passes before you crack a small smile at him, a quick nod in the direction of the barracks. when you turn to walk König finds himself frozen for a moment. why would he say okay? maybe he just wanted to bite the bullet and get this over with subconsciously, let you yell at him and be mad - he wouldn’t blame you
wrapped his too big, too calloused, too rough hand around you - that was the only image in his head. he could still see it when he closed his eyes - he could still feel your skin on his if he focused. it made him feel dirty, it made him feel— “König?”
he’s brought back out of his mind when he hears your voice. paused a few feet ahead of him, waiting for him to follow. and, like the lovesick fool he is, he does what he always does - he follows you. glued to your side like it’s where he belongs, but all he feels is the sense that, once alone, you’ll call him deprived, a desperate man that just wanted to feel you
it’s a short walk to the barracks, nothing said between you two. König’s room is closer, and rather than draw out the walk to your room, you stop in front of his. “Is it okay if we talk in here?”, you cautiously ask, afraid he’d run away again
he wants to say something, voice his thoughts, but all he does is reach for the door handle. a quick turn, and it’s opening - the giant man stepping over the threshold. you’re quick to follow him in, in case he shuts the door or turns to leave. maybe, you think, he’ll be more at ease in his own room
he sighs, deep and audible as he pulls out his desk chair. he’s almost too big for it, a little too bulky. his back to the door, he simply looks down - unable to look at you, sure of what’s to come. a screaming fit, spewing obscenities, something that’ll make his heart shatter more than it already has
he hears you speaking, sees your shoes in front of him as he looks at the floor. it’s all muffled, tuned out as his brain swirls with ‘what if’s’. what if they yell? what if they cry? what if they leave? what if they never come back? what if—
it takes him a moment to notice you’re not standing in front of him anymore, and when he glances up you’re not in view. gone. left him to wallow in his room, to sit and think. he’s already tugging his hood off, discarded onto his desk. messy copper hair and scars on display, he sinks back into his chair, head held low
he lets his eyes flutter shut, the silence in the room deafening as he mourns. stupid, it’s worse knowing he’s lost you and you’re still roaming the base. gone, but still here— eyes opening when he feels a hand on his neck, a palm against his throat, he swallows
“You won’t talk to me, you can’t even look at me, König.”, oh god, your voice, low and condescending as you speak. your fingers snugly resting against the column of his throat, déjà vu hits König like a truck when your pointer finger nudges against his chin, “You were really confident… what happened to that?”
bare skin touching bare skin, and when you gently press your finger under his chin, making him tilt his head up? he’s pretty sure this is pure bliss, “Look at me.”. and, oh, that stern tone you have goes straight down his spine, nerves tingling as his icy gaze meets yours. your hand— your warmth against his neck nearly has his brain turning to mush
he likes this, he’s being scolded by you for ignoring you, your hand wrapped around his neck. eyes half lidded, gazing up at you, his mind is somewhere else entirely. you’re talking again, probably commenting on how he’s been behaving, but all he’s focused on doing is leaning into your touch. pressing his neck a little more against your hand, biting back a low groan when you absentmindedly squeeze
you weren’t even looking at him anymore, gesturing with your other hand as you look up - frustrated, your eyebrows knit. you look so good like this, and the effect is more than obvious. between the tent in his pants on the way it looks like his brain should be oozing out his ears, the drool running down his chin, König’s not really present in the moment
he nearly misses it when you move your hand off his neck, blinking when you wipe the drool from his lip. “I’m not mad, König. Just… when you get yourself together, feel free to come find me, yeah?”, and there’s that smile - fond gaze looking down at him the way he missed, this time more intimate. patting his cheek briefly, spit smearing his skin a little, he sits up and watches you leave
he’ll come find you Maus, eventually. for now, in the dim lighting of his room, he’s more focused on working his belt off
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