#man. I remember how on the other hand when I was going to my first ever gig my guitar teacher said to me
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first, im a bit new to cod but idkâŚ
thinking about ghostâs spouse visiting him on base or some shit, and everyone else wondering how tf he was emotionally flexible enough to bag a bad bitch đŤś
note: this is just my personal little fantasy world headcanon lol so take it with a grain of salt!
Simon maintains a vaguely human lifestyle by adhering to one very strict rule: rigid compartmentalization. You donât come up at work, and work doesnât come up around you. Never the twain shall meet, he thinks. And heâs not exactly a watershed of information when heâs with his mates. And itâs not like anyone is asking âWhen was the last time you got fucked, Ghost?â and seriously expecting a response.
He tells you about the crew, but not about what he does with them. Killing, espionage, tortureâ that kind of thing stays off the dinner table.
Let it be known that you do not surprise him at work. You respect his boundaries too much, which is why heâs so fucking serious about you, honestly. He calls, asking if you can run something to him. This is maybe the greatest symbol of trust he can bestow, as a man who has only a fraction of an existence in the eyes of the government: he asks you to bring a document of his. He gives you the instructions on how to find it, and trusts that you wonât look at anything you donât have to.
You know Johnny lets out a low whistle when he sees you coming up with a manilla folder in your hands.
âWhoâs that bloody bombshell, then?â
You spy Simon and jog up to him with a smile. Heâs the one who embraces you, short but strong. Cue the nigh audible gasping.
âLT, you absolute dog.â
Simon rolls his eyes as the two of you are crowded in short order. You make polite introductions, but have a previous engagementâ you really did only have time to stop by.
Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.
Everyone is wondering how this couldâve happened. For the recordâ I think in this scenario, Johnny and Gaz go through a constant string of heartbreaks, and John is kinda married to his job. So in a cruel twist of fate, Simon is actually the only one currently with a partner, much less a spouse.
âHowâd you manage to bag a right beauty like that, LT? Câmon, spill itââ
Simon doesnât mean to diminish your value or anything, but his answer is not going to be satisfying, because he doesnât find it that difficult to get women. And also, youâre his true love, so youâre perfect for each other and growing close to you was as easy as breathing. But he doesnât say that.
âSânot that hard. Remember the stuff she says, donât keep no secrets⌠dick âer down the way she likes.â He doesnât mean to be crude about it, but from his perspective, is one of the main reasons why you tolerate him. Soap howls at the response.
Heâs telling the truth, though! He has a scarily good memory. Remembers every friend youâve ever told him about, every movie youâve ever mentioned, every meal heâs cooked for you and how you liked it. He remembers dates, times, and lists with no issue whatsoever.
And heâs never kept anything from you. He tells you how the fuck heâs feeling, and you return the favor, even if it isnât pleasant. The only thing he doesnât mention to you are the gorey details of his work.
And you have never had more of a communicative partner, ironically. There were times in the beginning when he didnât know all of the ins and outs of coaxing pleasure from your body, so he asked you to show him how you like it. And that scary memory is at work yet againâ every sensitive spot, every offhand mention of a kink youâve not yet explored together, every arch of your spine and clench of your cunt. Heâs got it down to a science. Could write novels about making love to you specifically.
What Iâm trying to say, at the end of the day, is that Ghost bagged a bad bitch by being autistic.
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The Eyes of Death.
This story is mostly inspired by Jaybirbie's prompt | Master post | Next?
"Hey, sweetheart?" Danny called, quickly jotting down the last sentence for his paper. He'd have to remember to go back and reread it and make sure he didn't trail off into another tangent. He swears he wasn't this bad at managing his ADHD back in Amity...
"Yes, Danny?" Damian asked, turning back from the door to face him as he scrolled further down the story he was reading. The familiar font of Gotham City's gazette blurred as a picture of Mr. Freeze and Penguin finally loaded. So that's what was going on. Danny should have known; the bats already dealt with the other usual rouges, and these two were next on the list.
"Can you walk with me? I just know Nancy and her boyfriend are out there, waiting. I really don't want to deal with them again... We could spend more time at my place? Tucker sent me another movie, and I'm unsure if I should watch it alone after last time." Danny pleaded, quickly shoving all of his papers into his bag. He'd deal with straightening them out later, it wasn't like his professors weren't used to his wrinkled essays at this point.
However, he should probably redo the blueprints for Workshop. Mr. Anthlow was a hardass, but nothing could compare to his anger when a student handed in wrinkled blueprints; he claimed he wasn't going to have another 'Tanner' incident on his watch, whatever the heck that meant.
He was not looking forward to whatever Nancy wanted to talk to him about, she looked excited. Which could only mean bad things for him; considering the last time she was excited, he ended up spending time with Bane of all people. And there was no way her boyfriend was just going to let Danny get away again.
Damian grimaces, finally looking up and away from his phone. "I'm sorry beloved..." he held up the device just in time to show an incoming text from his Father, "I promised Father I'd be home a while ago. And with what's happening down on-"
"It's ok, I'll just head out the back door," Danny cut in, seeing the start of guilt on his boyfriend's face. He knew how much Danny hated having to deal with those two, and the fact Damian hasn't been able to even introduce himself to them hasn't helped. With a smile, Danny scooped up his textbooks and made his way to stand in front of Damian, "They can't bother me if they don't see me!"
Unsurprisingly, Danny could feel the guilt grow and start to float around Damian as the boy glanced at his phone, the message tone sounding out again in warning.
Danny only met Damian's father once; it was just a simple shake of hands and sharing names before the man ran off, but it did leave an impression. The man felt tired and paranoid; like, to the point Danny kind of wanted to drag Jazz over and lock the two of them in a room, paranoid. (Danny wants to say he's never seen someone that paranoid, but he'd be lying. He looks in the mirror after all.)
The point is; Danny's only met the man once, but that was enough for him to know that the man would tear down the world if he thought for even a second that one of his kids was in danger. This meant, that if Damian didn't go and reassure his father that he was alive and safe within the next sixty or so seconds, then there was a possibility that there wouldn't be another date for at least another week.
And considering this "study date" was supposed to make up for the last one Damian had missed because of his Father? Yeah, Danny wasn't going to be happy if Damian got grounded or dragged into another 'surprise' family road trip because his father was convinced his children would be dead before the 'yearly' planned get-together in November.
They had a trip to the zoo planned for tomorrow, and Delilah was supposed to be allowed out with her kids. This would be Delilah's first public outing since her kids' birth. There's no way Danny was going to allow Damian to miss that. (he swears to the ancients, if there was a rouge attack he was going to kill someone, Dark Dan's future be damned.)
Lifting his heels off the ground so he could stand on his tiptoes, Danny snagged Damian's arm and pulled him down so he could kiss his cheek. "I'll get home safe, just focus on keeping your dad from going insane. We've got a date at the zoo tomorrow and we're not missing it even if your father becomes the next city rogue."
Damian wrapped his arms around Danny, trapping him in a hug as he sighed in fond frustration. "I promise I won't miss it, ok? I'll be there."
Danny rolled his eyes and pushed Damian back, dropping back to stand on the ground, "You better, 'cause hell hath no fury like a gorilla denied the chance to meet her human best friend's boyfriend."
Damian snorted, before looking away and pretending to cough. Danny moved his textbooks to rest more securely in one of his arms, so he could point at his boyfriend. "I'm not kidding, if I show up tomorrow and tell her all about my life and you're not there, she will break out and track you down. I won't stop her either, you'd deserve whatever she does to you."
"Alright, alright. I get it, and I already promised I'd be there didn't I?" Damian chuckled, raising his hands up in surrender. Which would have been cute if it wasn't for the fact that his phone went off again, this time in an insistent buzzing. His eldest brother's ringtone; which meant Damian was going to be busy for a while.
Cursing, Damian turned and answered, "I'm in the middle of something, this better be important Grayson," glancing back at Danny, he mouthed for him to wait a moment as his brother started talking.
Smiling, Danny shook his head, snatched Damian's jacket, and started making his way out the door. There was no way Damian would finish this phone call any time soon. Danny's learned not to wait after the last four times this happened. Damian turned back with betrayed eyes, but the urgent voice of his brother buzzing even louder held him back. Waving goodbye with a smile, Danny shut the door and started making his way down the hall.
He'd have to ask Damian what happened tomorrow, Grayson didn't usually call him, especially when he knew Damian was spending time with Danny. He said it had something to do with how it was sacrilege to interrupt time spent with a significant other. Danny had wanted to ask him more about it but hadn't gotten the chance when The Riddler crashed their spontaneous meeting.
Speaking of The Riddler, Danny's social science paper wasn't looking too hot right now. He'd have to block out a time for him to work on that at some point this week. He wasn't doing anything on Friday, well, besides his early morning classes. That should work...
"Hey, Danny!" someone called, pulling him out of his musing. Glancing up, Danny internally groaned when he noticed Nancy waving at him in sheer delight. Giving her a half-hearted wave, Danny sped up and continued making his way to the back of the library. If he was quick enough maybe he could-
To his dismay, Nancy's boyfriend stepped out from behind one of the shelves and latched onto his arm. Tightly.
Just great, this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Curse his inability to pay attention when he got lost in thought. Damn ADHD. Blasted non-existent spatial awareness. This was what he got for relying on his ghost sense, he just knows it.
"She said hi, kind of rude of you to just keep walking, Kid." Wyatt huffed, roughly dragging Danny back and towards his girlfriend. Nancy smiled brightly as Wyatt let him go, allowing Nancy to weave her arm with Danny's and practically drag him toward the front of the building.
"There's this big party going on tonight, some Jr invited us. He said it was going to be a night to remember! You should totally come with us, Danny! My friend Shela said she was bringing her nerdy freshmen too! I just know you'd fit right in with them!" Nancy squealed excitedly, shaking Danny as they finally made it to the front doors.
One of the desk attendants rolled their eyes at them as Danny glanced over, hoping that Barbara might intervene. No such luck, she was nowhere in sight, probably off somewhere shelving books. So much for that plan.
"uh, thanks, but I already-" Danny tried, stopping when Nancy scoffed and yanked him out the door and into the frosty night. "Damn, it's cold!" Wyatt cursed, taking his jacket off and quickly handing it over to Nancy. She let go of Danny and pulled it on, then stared at Danny for a moment, "Put your coat on Danny, no way in hell am I letting my kid catch a cold!"
Rolling his eyes, Danny wrapped Damian's coat over his shoulders. He was too lazy to actually put it on, not when that meant handing his textbooks over. The last time he did that, Nancy got bored and started doodling all over them. (how she had managed to do that in the little time it took to put a hoodie on, Danny wasn't sure.)
"I just want to go home, Nancy. I'm not really a party person." Danny sighed, allowing Nancy to drag him down the dark streets. His apartment was in this general direction anyway. Nancy turned to her boyfriend with a huff, "Wyatt! make him come with us!"
"Let the nerd do what he wants, it's not like it affects us if he kicks the bucket all alone," Wyatt grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Ouch, but true. Please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen-
"But Shela said she was bringing Carly!" Nancy turned back to Danny, a pout clear on her face, "You two would be so cute together! she's nerdy just like you! And she's totally into all those murder mystery shows you watch!"
Damn it. Not this crap again.
"That's nice, Nancy, but I'm not interested. I already told you guys, I have a boyfriend," Danny sighed, trying to gently extract his arm from hers; for a human, Nancy sure had one heck of a grip.
"Yeah, right," Wyatt snorted, patting Danny's back, completely ignoring the fact that Danny was literally wearing someone else's jacket. "We'll believe you when you introduce us, until then. You're a virgin loser."
And there we go, people; the reason Danny wanted to crawl into the sewer and die whenever he saw these two. They were nice, don't get him wrong, but they were also stubborn idiots.
"Being a virgin has nothing to do with my relationship status, Wyatt. I'm ace. you've known this since the first time we talked." Danny grumbled, allowing Nancy to drag him down another street. He wasn't sure exactly where they were going now, but he was too tired to care at this point.
If these self-claimed 'Parents' of his wanted to drag him to this stupid party, then fine. Whatever. It's not like Danny had any other plans tonight anyway.
"Asexuality isn't a thing man," Wyatt huffed, speeding up so he could guide them in the right direction now that they were heading into a rougher patch of buildings. Danny could see the man was shivering, though trying to act tough in front of Nancy. Smirking, Danny sent a cold breeze his way. The man scowled up at the sky, cursing quietly.
"Yeah!" Nancy agreed, smiling brightly down at Danny without a care in the world. Like they didn't have this conversation every other week. "You just haven't met the right person yet, Danny! And I know how awkward it is to admit that you're staying celibate until marriage, but you don't have to hide it behind being ace."
Taking a deep breath, Danny closed his eyes and focused on not shouting out of frustration. The celibate comment was new, the acephobia, not so much. "Ok, first of all; Asexuality is a thing, which many people ARE. Literally, 1% of the world is ace. That's over 70 million people. Second of all, I'm not celibate, and I'm not sure if you even know what that means, considering you know I was raised Atheist."
"What does being an Atheist have to do with celibacy?" Nancy asked, tilting her head to look at him. Danny groaned, smacking his forehead against his textbooks. He was NOT going to explain this to them tonight.
"You know what, Nancy? It doesn't matter." Danny huffed, trying again to gently pry her hands off. He wanted to go home. He wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend. He wanted to go back to Amity. Maybe go to the realms and play with Cujo. He did NOT want to deal with these idiots.
Wyatt stopped walking and turned to face them, rolling his eyes as Nancy pouted at Danny. "Come on babe, let the loser go. He obviously doesn't appreciate your efforts."
"but who else is going to convince him to live a little? He's just going to go back to his apartment and sulk by himself!" Nancy cried, tightening her grip again.
"Who cares what the kid does, Nancy? let the dude die a virgin loser. Now let's go, we're already late as is."
"But I really want him to-," Nancy tried, cutting herself off, as both she and Danny spotted a cloaked person appear out of the shadows behind Wyatt.
Wyatt lifted his brow before slowly turning to see what the two of them were staring at. The cloaked figure suddenly whacked him over the head with a metal pole before he could fully turn around. Wyatt's body dropped to the ground with a heavy thump, making Nancy scream, "Wyatt!"
Shit, Danny stepped back, trying to pull Nancy with him as the cloak dude tossed the metal pole to the side with a loud clank. Which was confusing, why would he through away his weapon?
"Shut her up!" the cloak dude cried, bending down to grab Wyatt's arms. He better not be telling Danny to do that, because that would just be stupid and- Suddenly, a dozen more cloaked people flooded out of the darkness and surrounded them. That answered Danny's questions at least.
Danny tensed up as a couple of the people tried to grab onto him. Quickly pulling Nancy back, successfully this time, Danny glanced around to try and find an exit. He couldn't do anything crazy right now, not unless he wanted to give away his secret, but some self-defense should be fine.
Nancy suddenly let go of his arm and smacked one of the cloaked people in the face, "Don't you fucking dare touch me! Wyatt! Kid, get out of here!"
Danny turned to her in alarm, eyes wide in horror as she quickly disappeared into the cloaked crowd. Another cloaked person managed to latch onto Danny's shoulder, reminding him to focus on his situation. Quickly stepping back, he slammed into the man grabbing him, knocking his grip loose. Ducking under another attempt, Danny swung out his leg and tripped the dude into two others.
Twisting to try and make his way over to where he figured Nancy was, Danny dropped his textbooks and punched someone in the face. Damian's jacket was yanked off his shoulders, making him turn with a growl. Punching another person in the face, Danny lunged at the group.
"Hurry! before the bats find us!" the supposed leader cried, making even more cloaked people surround Danny. There was no way a normal civilian would be able to fight their way out of this, so Danny would have to allow himself to be caught soon. Only after biting and scratching the fuck out of them though. Just because he had to let them catch him, doesn't mean he has to make it easy.
~30 min later
Danny stared at the leader as the man droned on and on about needing the right sacrifice for the ritual to work. Nancy and Wyatt grumbled behind him, agreements from the other kidnapped victims filling Danny's ears like bees.
"The sacrifice shall be the one who treads the veil between life and death, the one who's beloved by the spirits as their own! He shall be pale as a corpse, his body kissed by death many times throughout his life. His hair as black as the sky on a moonless night, cradled by the moon since birth." Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem droned on dramatically, reverently dragging his finger down the old dusty tome's page,
"so Mr. Wayne?" Nancy huffed, pressing her back into Danny's side. Wyatt chuckled, shoving his foot into Danny's knee, "No, it's totally Mr. Drake he's talking about. Have you seen that dude's eyebags? they make him look like a ghost."
One of the strangers leaned over, rolling their eyes, "No, it's got to be Mr. Dent. The dude's literally half living half not."
"No, Two-Face is half insane, half burnt chicken. Ain't nothing about him going to please ghosts. He was a fucking lawyer, for Christ shake." another guy added.
"the dude said 'he' which crossed out half of y'all," Danny added, glancing at the group around him. The women blinked and then rolled their eyes; only in Gotham would they get kidnapped and not actually be needed.
"Assholes," Nancy huffed, she glanced over her shoulder and down at him, her face set into a frown, "You good, kid? you're like freezing cold."
"I'm fine," Danny huffed, focusing back on the leader. He could just feel the old magic rolling off the book; this was something dangerous, especially in this dipshit's hands. Ancients, he was going to have to do everything he could to keep the man from actually doing the ritual or mess it up if the bats didn't get here in time.
One of the cloaked people suddenly dragged a camera out from a side room, grumbling about networks and livestreams being shit. Huh, well that would definitely help provide their location to the bats. They must be really inexperienced cultists then...
"The sacrifice shall fall into our hands by fate's design. The sacrifice is here and waiting for what his whole life was meant for. Now-"
"Elder!" one of the other cloaked figures cried, waving their phone in the air in excitement. Dread quickly filled Danny's stomach.
"All the bats and birds are busy dealing with those scoundrels they call rouges! If we hurry, we can complete the ritual before they can interfere!"
"Perfect!" Mr. 'Elder', cheered, slamming the tome closed and handing it off to one of the others. "So?" Mr. Elder started, turning to face them with a sharp grin, "Who's it going to be?"
Danny glanced at the group behind him, all of them having gone silent as the cloaked group started pulling out their ritual things, one of which was a very blood-stained knife.
Mr. Elder started circling them, humming and hawing as he studied each one of them. He stopped next to Wyatt, studying him intently.
Quickly weighing his options, Danny straightened up and glared at the man, "I'll be your sacrifice."
Immediately Nancy leaned away from him with a gasp, Wyatt's foot dropping to the floor with a thud. "Danny, no!" Nancy hissed, turning her body so she could face him. Danny didn't glance at her, just continued glaring at the cultist. The cult leader laughed, "Well then. So it shall be! You heard the sacrifice, tie him to the chair!"
With everyone watching, all Danny could do was tense as four of the followers walked over and pulled him up. "No!" Nancy shouted, leaning over and grabbing onto him. Wyatt reached out to Nancy, wanting to pull her back. The men tensed up, ready to interfere. Quickly pulling back, Danny frowned at Nancy and Wyatt, "I'll be ok, just don't do anything stupid!"
They harshly pulled him up and away again, before Nancy could reply. And because he was already pissed off, he made it as difficult for them as possible as they dragged him to the wooden chair. The camera person focused the lens on them, recording it as they shoved him down to sit and wrapped a bloody rope around his limbs.
So much for thinking they were inexperienced... They've done this before, he knows now. How many times? He wasn't sure, but if he had any say in it after tonight, they'd never do it again.
Once he was securely tied to the chair and gagged, because Danny couldn't help himself but insult them, the cultist started preparing the ritual. Why they hadn't done so beforehand, Danny wasn't sure; that is until one of them sliced a deep gash into his right arm and collected his blood into a bowl.
With a grimace, Danny watched as they mixed his blood with black paint and started drawing a circle around him. The camera dude stepped closer and practically shoved the camera into his face. leaning back, Danny glanced between the camera and the people drawing with his blood.
Suddenly, his arm tingled with ectoplasm, making him panic for a second. he can't heal the wound! not with all the people around him and being recorded! Shit, what had Vlad done last time?? Uh, right! core smothering. He could just smother his core to stop his body from healing. Man, acting like a civilian was a pain in the ass.
Glaring up at the camera now that he wasn't as panicked, Danny watched as the dude stepped back, pulled out a paper, and started reading out loud. "GOTHAM! tonight you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"
Did he seriously need the paper just to remember that?
The leader stepped forward when the circle was complete, "Now!" His voice echoed around the silent warehouse, startling the other kidnapped victims. The cameraman turned and focused on him, stepping out of the circle altogether. Danny watched the kidnapped people out of the corner of his eye, wanting to make sure they weren't hurt during this whole fiasco.
"Let us begin!" the leader cheered, suddenly gripping Danny's shoulders tightly. "Join me as we summon our lord and savior! The great tyrant of the dead! The embodiment of war and bloodshed! The one named PARIAH DARK! THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!!"
Immediately, Danny was both completely terrified and amused. He had been worried that they were going to try and summon some great evil demon, not the fucking old tyrant. He could fight Pariah any day of the week.
No, what terrified him was the fact that because Danny won the right to the crown by defeating Pariah the first time, he had no idea what this summoning was going to do. Was it going to work like they wanted and summon Pariah? cool, great even. He can deal with that, might have to reveal his ghost powers if the fight got dirty, but nothing too bad.
or was it going to summon him because he was the king, and if so? how? Would that even work considering he's the sacrifice? would he just disappear and reappear? This could lead to a lot of questions Danny was NOT ready to answer. Gaslighting everyone here into believing he could fight Pariah as a 'meta' human would be easy, convincing everyone that he's not the ghost king or a ghost AFTER getting summoned; not so easy.
The leader released Danny from his grip as he walked over and snatched the tome from one of his followers. Snapping the book open, the man started chanting without warning, pointing at random people to notify them when it was their turn to start.
It was like watching a school play; all the student's doing as they were taught as their teacher directed from the side. Cultist A slammed the bowl of leftover blood on the ground, splattering the black remnants all over Danny and the circle. Which was gross, Danny was going to have to burn this shirt, because there was no way he was going to get this stain out. Cultist B tossed salt at Danny a few minutes later, smacking him in the face with the small white crystals. Shaking his head, Danny glared at him. Cultist B threw the salt again.
The leader's smile grew as he continued chanting.
Seven other cultists joined in the chanting, waving their hands up and down as their voices echoed around them. Danny glanced nervously around the warehouse, hoping he'd spot one of the bats. This was being broadcast, they should be on their way at the very least.
After another minute of looking, Danny glanced back at the other kidnapped victims. Nancy was balling her eyes out, burying herself into her boyfriend's chest. Wyatt was staring at him with wide eyes, clearly unsure about what to do. Probably feeling guilty because they both knew the leader was going to choose him. A few others were looking away, clearly fearing for his life. The rest watched on, trying to show him through their actions that they were there with him till the end. (whether he 'died' or not)
It was weird, but Danny had to give it to them; Gothmites were badass. He doubted anyone in Amity besides his friends would have been brave enough to watch what was happening. Even if they didn't know if he would live or not.
His core crackled, making him choke a little as he finally felt the pull of the summoning. Well, that's just great. Shaking his head, Danny tried to clear his throat. The summoning was making him feel weird and he did not appreciate it.
The chanting got louder as one of the people walked up to him, holding the knife in a white-knuckled grasp. Danny eyed it wearily, glancing between it and the rafters above. Where the hell were the bats when he needed them???
The cultist kneeled before him and raised the blade, slamming it down into his chest right as the leader stopped chanting; Danny gasped, more out of surprise than pain as he stared at the knife. The dude gave him no warning that he was going to stab him. Usually, cultists slit people's throats, right? What the fuck was up with stabbing him???
His blood slowly bubbled up and around the knife, slowly staining his shirt red. Yeah, there was no way in the realms he was going to be able to save this shirt now. Man, he had liked this one too.
He could hear Nancy's sobs turn to wails as the cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who Danny just now noticed had joined them in the circle. His blood started gushing down his chest with every beat of his heart, again he held back his core. (what does he do now??? faint? scream? how do normal people react to getting stabbed?????)
"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!"
Ok, first of all Danny was no where near lowly you piece of fuck-
Danny's core pulsed, sending out nauseating pain up and down his spine. Gasping, Danny leaned as far forward as he could, trying in vain to grasp at his chest without using his powers. His core crackled, striking a blinding flash through his brain. The echoes of his death crawled up his left arm, waking the old dead nerves into firing signals at his brain.
Danny couldn't help himself, he screamed as the pain grew worse and worse. His thoughts turned hazy, his body cold as his core pulsed again. His heart stuttered and then froze, his core flooding his body with freezing ecto not a moment later. Absently, he could feel the wash of ectoplasm crawl over his body, changing his body minutely. He didn't transform, but he definitely looked more ghostly than human.
All the pain disappeared a moment later, allowing Danny to slump forward, his head hanging low and blocking his face from view. His chest did not rise in ragged breaths, nor did his fingers twitch with life. His mind was still sluggish and clouded with something, making it nearly impossible to think. Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny tried to focus.
"Your Highness?" someone asked, their voice too loud as it rang in Danny's ears. His core pulsed, another flood of ectoplasm flooding his body. His eyes slid open again, allowing him to see the green glow lighting up his chest and lap as he stared down at them.
Slowly, Danny lifted his head, his bright green gaze locking with the man in front of him.
Next?
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#damian wayne#danny fenton#deadserious#mentioned#sam manson#tucker foley#everyone is confused#Danny is phantoms host#or so the JL and damian believe#danny accidently tricked them into thinking it#but it's such a good cover story that he's not sure if he should correct this mistake#danny phantom#part one#the eyes of death Au#tw: acephobia#it's there but not like the point of the story#it's for plot reasons#ignore how crappy i am at romance#it's not really my style#but i'm trying
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Mama, Iâm in love with a criminal
Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.
Synopsis: Sukunaâs talking to his therapist in jail about you. Heâs incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.
An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.
Session one.
His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.
He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapistâs credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukunaâs crimes.
Normally, the therapist wouldnât read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna⌠how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.
He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.
Simple counseling wasnât going to âfixâ a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.
Sukuna could taste the therapistâs fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. âYou donât even want to try to fix me, do you?â He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. âI donât blame you. Donât feel bad~â
The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. âI canât fix anyone⌠Counseling isnât about fixing.. Itâs about moving forward and learning how to live.â
âBullshit.â Sukuna spits with shrug. âCounseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that youâre going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?â
The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. âOur past can help us navigate to a better future.â He murmured out weakly.
Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. âYouâre a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? Iâll tell you.â
After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, âYou know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.â
âI think thatâs when my âtypeâ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.â Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.
âY/n?â The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.
Sukunaâs red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. âSay her name again, and Iâll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers wonât be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.â
The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but heâs frozen in fear.
âWeâll call her mouse.â Sukuna goes on as if he didnât just threaten the poor guyâs life in brutal detail.
âMouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent â only answering me with simple head gestures.â He laughs again, lying his head back further as heâs replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.
âI canât exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasnât in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldnât talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.â
The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesnât feel safe in this session, and he doesnât trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.
âLooked at you like what?â The therapist dared to ask.
Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. âShe looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes⌠were so big and round. Even though she didnât talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.â
The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.
The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.
âI bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.â Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, âI remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.â
The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victimâs blood.
-Ęá´á´Ę ęąĘá´á´
á´á´Ą
His victimâs - their deaths were like an homage to you.
âWere the kids ever⌠assholes to mouse?â
Sukunaâs jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapistâs questions⌠thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.
âThey called her weird for not talking.â Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. âNow look at who canât talk.â
Sukunaâs first victim. He didnât start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.
He held a kid down to the teacherâs in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldnât scream or cry for help, or else heâd risk ripping the flesh on his lips.
The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.
âDid mouse witness you do that?â The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukunaâs narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.
âNo. Why would I scare her like that?â Sukunaâs voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.
The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. âScare? No.. no, I thought youâd maybe just show off what you did for her.â
âIâm not the type to show off.â Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if thatâs the first time Sukunaâs lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.
âAnyways, I wore her down over the years. She didnât speak to me until we were in sixth grade.â An eerie smile curls on Sukunaâs lip. âI can still remember her first word to me and how she said itâŚâ
The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.
Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. âHer first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.â
Bang! Bang Bang!
The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.
âRyomen! Your time is up!â The officer yelled on the other side of the door.
âPity. I was beginning to have fun.â Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. âSee you next week, doc.â
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#fanfic#drabble#jjk sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#dark romance
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Hooray For Makeup Sex! - Alastor x f! fallen angel!reader
Request: Hi! I recently read one of your alastor pieces & ohhhh my god! It was amazing. I was wondering if you would do something alastor x f!reader where they have an argument, add some angst, some fluff, some heavy heavy smut? Almost like alastor begging for reader & wanting to do anything for her to forgive him ?? Just a little idea. :) thank you so much for your wonderful work!â
Hey nonnie! Iâm absolutely thrilled to fulfill your request. I hope this hits the mark! Let me know if it does! đ
Word count: 6678
Warnings: established relationship, breakup, angst, fluff, Alastor is a very jealous and possessive but also in love man, thigh riding, (angelic) bloodplay, vaginal intercourse
Please like, comment, and reblog to sustain me! Let me know if you'd like to be on my tag list and remember that requests are open!
âSorryâ is not a word in Alastorâs lexicon. He stares at the heatless green fire in front of him, whiskey in one hand, the other tapping against the arm of his chair.
That was Charlieâs unsolicited advice, a rehash of old material. It starts with sorry, Al.
Well, he stubbornly doesnât believe heâs in the wrong to begin with, so why should he go and grovel at your fucking feet?
âSorryâ is not a word in Alastorâs lexicon, and thatâs that.
He throws the whiskey across the room suddenly, with such force that the crystal crashes into the opposite wall, forcing him to look at it.
Oh, itâs luxurious. A four poster bed with a white linen canopy. A mattress that adjusts itself to your whims, night by night. Silken sheets in the exact shade of your favourite colour. All of it for your benefit and yours aloneâfor fuckâs sake, he doesnât even sleep! He doesnât need to sleep, he just needsâŚ
Alastor stares at the bed, imagines how heâd sit next to you as you slumbered, glancing over at you occasionally for the sake of your comfort and security. He remembers how youâd snore lightly and how he would push hair out of your face as you snoozed. He remembers smilingâŚ
He remembers smiling.
He also recalls other little activities the two of you got up to in this bed, satisfying a hunger heâd never known before you, but that isnât something he craves anymore. Thatâs what he tells himself, anyway.
âSorryâ isnât a word in Alastorâs lexicon, even though⌠even thoughâŚ
It needs to be.
He sits there thinking of everything from the beginning. The day you first met, all those mysterious luminous creatures floating along, moving your furniture past the lobby. Your soft and kind smile, the one that sickened him at first. That damnable dress you wore the first time the two of you hit the sheets, and how fun it was to rip it off your body. The way his shadow always tried to steal feathers from the wings of your shadow. The first time you yelled at him for that.
He thinks of where things went wrong, the man that caused that incredible din, but the only thing he can think of, if he is finally honest with himself, is himself. His own jealousy, his controlling nature, thinking he knew what was best for you. That was what sparked the argument, wasnât it?
It his fault, certainly, but âsorryâ is not in Alastorâs lexicon, period.
The lilies are still on the bedside table. They are dried, desiccating, the little leaves and petals falling onto the surface. He had gotten the lilies to say âsorryâ, in his own way, but you never did come back to his room.
He lays back on the bed and plucks a dying lily from the bouquet, keeping it in his hand. It's not difficult to imagine you there beside him, your arms wrapped around him as he presses his face against your shoulder, and oh, thatâs when it really hits him.
Your scent. He remembers it so well that he smells it now, a phantom chased by nothing. His eyes close and he rolls until his head meets your pillow, breathing in your scent deeply.
âSorryâ is not in his lexicon, but goddamn it, there are lilies.
What would it take, what flowers would fix things, if lilies were not enough? Pink roses? White orchids? Tulips? A hundred dozen daffodils, flooding the entire hotel?
Alastor notices now how his hands are shaking at his sides. He clenches his claws into fists and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent again. The best thing to do is to incinerate the pillow, the bed, the liliesâŚ
No, no. His jaw tightens. No, that would be the easy thing to do. Not the best, or even the smartest. It was the cowardly thing to do.
âSorryâ is not in Alastorâs lexicon, but heâs no fucking coward.
He can almost hear your voice in his ears, whispering his name with such sweet affection. He remembers your laugh, a sound like music to him. A laugh reserved for him and him alone. Something special.
He's never needed anyone else's company before. He never bothered with the emotional needs of other people. Youâre the only person he's ever cared for, the only person who has ever truly meant anything to him. He feels weak and vulnerable over your absence. He doesn't like feeling like this, but youâre the one woman that can break down his walls.
Alastor doesn't like needing you, he doesn't like letting you have this power over him. But at this moment, he doesn't care. He'd give anything to just hear your voice again, even if itâs just to yell at him and tell him to fuck off.
Again.
The sound of your voice, the way you looked into his eyes, your little imperfections that only served to make you all the more perfect in his eyes. He remembers how your lips felt against his skin, the soft warmth of your touch.
He doesnât like to need you, but he does love it.
He opens his eyes, clutching the now withered flower so tightly that all but a few brown petals fall from the stem. He stares at it for a long moment, trying not to let the memories overwhelm him. A green fire erupts from his palm, scorching it first, then turning it to ash. He stares at it, the lightness of it in his palm.
He's always had such strict control over himself, even under stress or grief, but not anymore. Not when it comes to you. Youâve always been able to cause feelings of weakness and helplessness within him. He hates himself for feeling this way, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to hate you. No, never you.
He closes his eyes again, imagining you lying beside him. You would have wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to the side of his neck. Sometimes, youâd start leaving the tiniest of kisses down his neck. It would make him shiver, it would make himâŚ
Just like that first night when things turned physical. Your hands would always find a way under his shirt, running your fingers over the muscles of his chest and stomach, your fingers tracing reverently over his scars.
He can almost feel the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body.
Alastor sighs in consideration of his current position. One of, if not the most powerful Overlord of hell, lying in a bed he does not need, pining after a fallen angel who once (admittedly, accidentally) broke a horn off his shadow. He breathes in your scent again. A fallen angel who made his mamaâs jambalaya for him. A fallen angel who was never once intimidated by him. A fallen angel who created life, âalong a certain slant of lightâ, as you put it, most of them visible only to you, except for shimmers of light, like oil on water.
A fallen angel who wouldnât speak to him even if he said sorry.
Alastor sighs, sits up, holding her pillow like a child holding a fucking teddy bear.
âFuck.â
He smacks himself on the forehead and drags his hand down his face.
âFuck.â
He says it again, getting a taste of the word, the pride of it in its coarse formation and meaning.
Alastor sighs, holding the pillow, looking at the bouquet of dead lilies. âFuck.â
He wants to feel the softness of your lips again. To feel the warmth of your skin, the press of your body against his. But more than anything, he wants to hear you laugh again. He wants that beautiful smile back, the smile you give to him and only him.
But he doubts that will happen. Youâve probably already moved on from him, and honestly, he wouldn't blame you for doing so. Well, thatâs a lie.
He knows he's difficult, and demandingâsometimes too demanding. Youâve always been far more patient with him than anyone else, but even that has its limits. And he's certainly pushed those limits.
Youâre probably in the arms of some other man right now, maybe even him, laughing as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You probably donât even think about Alastor anymore.
âSorryâ may not be in his fucking lexicon, but like hell heâd ever allow another man into your bed, and certainly notâŚhim.
Alastor makes sure heâs impeccable before riding the dark to your room. He decides it would be a rather stupid idea to appear inside your room without permission, so he settles on the hallway and knocks on your door.
âCome in!â
The sound is muffled, and he feels the sharp need to lecture you on not checking who is at the door before letting them in, but he refrains. He turns the doorknob and walks into your room for the first time in a while and finds youâ
Down on the floor, halfway underneath the bed.
âThis seems like a cliche pornographic film,â he comments as he shuts the door.
Herbert, the only one of the little light creatures that he can see, floats towards him.
You try to sit up right when you hear Alastorâs voice, banging your head. You get out from under the bed and stand up.
âHerbert, leave him alone,â you say.
âNonsense! Hello little creature,â Alastor says to the glowing bastard he had tolerated at best before the breakup. He summons up an apple for the mischievous little son of a bitch to snack on and Herbert quickly zips away with it, disappearing under the bed.
âHow did you know that being stuck is a porn cliche?â you ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, your arms crossed. âBeen watching a lot of it lately?â
âI think you know that I have not,â Alastor says, leaning forward on his staff. âWe just so happen to live with an adult film star who tries to pull the âhelp me Iâm stuckâ routine on Husker at least twice per week. What were you doing under the bed, darling?â
âHerbert! Heâs been stealing from me,â you say. âI knew I didnât lose those emerald earrings you gave me. I found those and then some in his little nest under the bed.â
He canât help but swell with pride. One of his favourite things to do was present you with gifts and he loved seeing them on you every time.
âWhat do you want?â you ask, and that deflates him a bit.
Alastor takes a breath, his chest rising. âI need you to instruct me in something.â
âGo ask literally anyone else.â You open up the door, gesturing for him to leave, but with a bit of boldness Alastor flicks the door closed again.
âIâm afraid thereâs no one better to ask than you, my dear.â
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. âAlastor, I broke up with you so I wouldnât have to deal with things like this anymore.â
Alastor pauses for a time. Honesty tumbles its way past his lips. âYou are all that I love.â
The room goes silent, save for the sound of Herbert cronching his apple.
You give a sigh, a pained expression on your face, one that he hates to see. All of him wants to go to you, but you wouldnât want thatânot yet.
âGoddamn it,â you whisper. âIs that what you needed instruction for?â
âNo,â he says immediately. âNo, loving you needs no instruction.â
You let out a breath. Thatâs all you can do before your head is in your hands.
âMy dear, may I sit beside you?â Alastor asks after a momentâs silence.
âOh, fuck you!â You stand up and circle around him once. âFuck you, Alastor!â
His eyebrows rise. âThat is not the response that I anticipated or desired.â
âOh itâs not?â you ask mockingly.
Heâs never seen you act like this before, and it is surprising him. An unseen variable, one that choked him. His grip on his staff increases.
âMy dear, I sense that you still harbour quite a lot of animusââ
âShut up! Shut up!â You pace back and forth the length of the rug, also a gift from him. âFuck you! Fuck you for saying the right things the wrong time!â
Alastor takes a chance and sits down on your bed, watching you closely. âDo you want more earrings?â
You immediately go to your armoire and start throwing jewellery at him. Heâs quite literally stunned by this behaviour. Herbert comes out from underneath the bed and snipes a few rings.
âDarling.â
You say nothing, you just keep throwing things at him.
âDarling.â
âJust take it. Take it all back. Give it to someone else.â
Now he looks offended and straightens his posture. You run out of jewellery to throw at him.
âYou know there can be no other,â he says, somewhat angry. âYou know Iâm not capable of having any such enjoyment with anyone else. You are all I love and all that I desire to love. All I can love. Thereâs none but you and nothing will ever compare, never come close. Do you understand?â
âThen keep them for yourself. Or let Herbert have it all, enable his fucking kleptomania.â
âThey belong to you and you will have them. Every last jewel.â
âAlastor, you shouldnât be here,â you say.
âThat is a consideration I undertook before coming.â He leaves his staff on the bed and goes to you. âI need your instruction.â
âOn what?â you snap.
He lets out a deep breath. âHow many lilies will it take to be forgiven?â
You stare at him. âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â
âForget the lilies then,â he says quickly. âJust disregard the matter of florals altogether. What token is needed?â
âToken?â
âIt doesnât need to be a physical object, not a coin one inserts into a slot in exchange for heroin or soda,â he says quickly. âI am explaining myself poorly. Iâll be truthful and direct, if you will allow me.â
Your arms cross again, a defensive posture. âOkay.â
âI need you. I donât know how to be without you anymore. Itâs maddening. I find myself missing you in all these vacant spaces that were not vacant before you. You created space in me that only you can fill, and now it isâŚempty. You made me this way, and it is your fault,â he says quickly. âAnd what am I to do, now? Accept that I am now empty? Accept that I will walk through eternity alone, with all this space within me, space that you and you alone can occupy?â
âAnd you hate it, donât you Alastor? And you hate me for it.â
âI considered that,â he admits. âI tried to insist it to myself, that I did not need such adulations and that I didnât need you, specifically. I tried not to need you, but your absence insisted upon you. I do not hate you. Nothing could force me to feel that way, not myself, not you, not Herbert.â
âHerbert?â
âCorrect. Herbert.â
You sit down beside his staff, touch the microphone knowing you were the only person ever allowed to do so. You sigh. âI love you, too. And just like you, I donât know what to do with it.â
âI know exactly what to do with it,â he responds.
âYeah?â
Alastor nods. âWe justâŚgo back to before. Move forward. But together. I would sooner die than see you with another man.â
You lift a warning finger to him. âYouâre not helping yourself.â
Alastor huffs. âIt is the truth. You value honesty as well as I do.â
Now you scoff. âYou deal in subterfuge, not honesty.â
âNot with you, and you know that,â he says, pointing at you. âI am a flawed man, but Iâve given you my very best. Better than I thought I had capacity for. Can you truly say that it was never enough?â
âOf course it was,â you say softly.
Alastor sighs and sits beside you. He thinks to put an arm around you, but manages not to.
âYou are so used to getting everything you want,â you say. âYou have the power to get whatever you want except me.â
He winces. âPlease do not put it that way, darling. Please donât sayâŚweâll never find a way. Please.â
Slowly, you reach over and touch his hand. When it curls together with his fingers, he places his other hand firmly on top, squeezing.
âFour hundred.â
He waits for you to explain, but you donât.
âFour hundred what, dearest?â he asks.
You look at him and smile. âFour hundred lilies.â
Alastor snaps his fingers and four hundred lilies arrange themselves in vases on top of every surface in the room. Smelling them, Herbert whooshed out from underneath the bed and floated all along the flowers, playing with the tiny white bells in a way that Alastor could admit might be considered âcuteâ by others. He looks back to you.
âDo you want to count them all, darling?â he asks.
âI donât need to,â you say softly. âI feel like I should tell you something.â
âI do not like that,â Alastor says immediately. âI do not like the sound of that. Is it him?â
âDonât bring this full circle to the last argument,â you warn. âThere is no other man. I just thoughtâŚyou really came in here and said things that I didnât think you could. You really laid it all on the line and I feel like you deserve the same from me.â
Alastor nods along slowly. âNo other man?â
You shake your head. âNo other men. Will you stop? Will you please stop? Will you let me talk now?â
âI suppose,â he says, pulling you closer. He settles so that his head rests against your chest. âI am listening.â
âItâs not exactly easy for me to open up either,â you say before clearing your throat. âThereâs a wealth of differences between us but similarities that are significant. We both struggle with making space for other people in our lives and typically wonât.â
âThat is true,â he says, fingers running along your shoulder.
You start to play with his hair, the fuck-ass bob you only came to love because it was his preference. Youâre tempted to touch one of his ears, but nowâs not the time for that.
âSometimes itâs simply hard to believe that thereâs this perfect person that reallyâŚloves me,â you say softly, quietly, almost wishing that you hadnât.
Alastor tightens his hold on you. Neither of you could handle personal vulnerability quite so easily, but yours makes his heart clench. âDo I make you feelâŚless loved when we argue over other men?â
You sigh. âAlastor, itâs not just an argument about men, itâs you basically calling me a whoreââ
âNo, I didnât,â he interjects quickly. âNo. I have never called you that or thought it of you. You are my favourite, my treasure, my prize, and I would never think so lowly of you. Never, not in all of eternity until what you call âthe inevitable heat-death of the universeâ. I would argue that heaven and hell are a different universe but that is yet another argument we should never cross again.â
âAgreed,â you say, nodding your head. âJust like the argument aboutââ
âHorses running on their fingers, I know.â Alastor canât help the fondness in his smile. No matter how heated the arguments, the passion between the two of you manifests itself in all ways possible.
You smile back at him and decide to take the chance to kiss him again. Just once. Just to show him he was still loved, cherished, longed for. It was only right.
Alastor cups the back of your head to keep you there. Fuck once, now that heâs gotten to kiss you he chooses to interpret it as carte blanche to take as many as he wants. Damn, how he had missed thisâŚ
You gently remove his hand and pull away. âIâm not done speaking.â
âApologies,â he mutters.
You nod and continue. âI want to be the one you love. I want to be the only one you love, just as much as you want to be the only one that I love. You just canât treat me like a soul that you own.â
Alastorâs eyes widen at that. Had he reallyâŚ?
He looks you dead in the eye. âIf I ever do that again, correct me with a good slap.â
You shake your head. âNo. I wonât lay my hands on you with anything but affection andâŚshall we say, intimacy.â
âIntimacy,â he repeats, and almost moans then and there. It has beenâŚtoo long.
âI know,â you say. âI know.â
âWill you ever beâŚcomfortable with the idea of it again?â Alastor asks.
âIâve practically undressed you with my eyes since you came in here.â
He goes to make a move but you rebuff him once more, sitting up in the bed. âThe fact remains that I am hurt by you when you start questioning me about the attentions of other men, attentions that I do not notice more often than not, if they exist at all. Especially not from him. I keep telling you, he does not look at me that way, he doesnât think of me that way.â
He nods several times in thought before sitting up beside you, turning to face you. âI am afraid.â
Your eyes widen. Youâve seen him express all sorts of emotions in front of you before but never, not once, had even alluded to fear.
âW-why?â you ask with a bare whisper.
âIâm not a good man, and you know that. You know what I do almost better than anyone else. You are too good for me, therefore I fear another man will come along, catch your fancy, and leave me with the choice of either killing him and devastating you or simply languishing in my own self-pity. Why are you so far?â
(Obviously he would kill the other man.)
Alastor drags you into his lap and you give no resistance. He holds you tight, intending to never let go, not now when there was a chance.
You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe him in. Youâve missed his scent, too.
âIâm not too good for you,â you mutter against his neck. âAnd I wonât hear of it. Understood?â
He smiles begrudgingly. âFine. You will have it as you wish, my dear.â
âSo,â you say. âWhat now?â
âMove forward,â he says again. âBe with me again. Allow me to present you with jewels. I willâŚcontinue to put up with that little abomination eating the lilies.â
You gasp and look towards Herbert. You clap your hands together loudly. âHerbert! No! They might be poisonous to you, and besides, theyâre mommyâs!â
Alastor canât help himself but laugh. âMommyâs, you say?â
âI made him, Iâm mommy!â
MaybeâŚmaybe it was possible. Youâre not a sinner, after all, and Charlie does existâŚ
Maybe he can give you fawns, bond you to him for all eternity, heat-death of the universe be damned.
Alastor chuckles, lets that thought slide by (for now). He whisks the lilies away before the little bastard can make himself sick and throws another apple at him. Herbert gasps softly, takes it, and back under the bed he goes.
âSee?â Alastor says. âI am suitable.â
You smile at him softly. âPromise?â
âYes, dear. I do promise. There are many things I canât. We will continue to argue over pointless things, thatâs already in the cards. We will bump heads and piss each other off. I will be jealous, I will certainly be possessive, but I will never express it to you in a way that makes you feel like a harlot. And I will try not to over-analyse every interaction with him. Perhaps I will never express it at all, that would be best, I knowâŚ
âAnd I will fail. And you will, too. We will have our⌠fuck-ups, as you often call them. However, for all the fuck-ups we ever had before, not a moment passed when I did not know that I loved you. You created space in me, made my lungs full. I cannot be without you now, and I think youâŚI think that you are the same. I hope you are the same.â He pauses. âPlease, darling.â
You kiss him, and in that he understands your acceptance of this. Of him, his words, the explicit and implicit promises. Words were difficult sometimes.
He grabs you tightly and rides the dark to his bedroom, to the bed he made for you.
You break the kiss with an air of incredulity. âYou know I hate when you shadow whoosh me!â
âAnd you know I have exactly one rule about where we are intimate.â
You sigh. âNot above Herbertâs nest.â
âIndeed. Not above Herbertâs nest.â
âAnd who said anything about being intimate?â you ask, a hint of mischief in your eyes.
He smirks. âThere she is.â
âTell me what you want to do to me,â you say.
He grins, his eyes burning with a dark, sinful desire as he responds huskily, his lips against your ear. âAh, my love, I want to do everything to you. I want to touch you, taste you, explore every inch of you until nothing exists to either of us except each other. I want to hear you moan and gasp my name, to make you feel things you've never felt before.â
You give him a wicked smile. âWe should do that.â
He grows in agreement, his eyes burning with need and desire as he responds in a low, guttural voice. âWe absolutely should. We will. Iâm going to explore every inch of you, to make you feel things you've only dreamed of. Are you ready for that, my love?
He pulls you so that your back is snug against his chest, not a bit of space between your bodies. His clawed fingertips run from your knee all the way to your hip. He can hear that little gasp you try to hide, can feel that little shiver. The hem of your dress hiked up, his hand moves to cup your mound. He smirks to himself when he feels you rub against it.
âBe a good girl,â he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it. He rubs against your underwear for a few moments, allowing you to rock your hips against his hand, and oh, there it was again. Control. Control over you, the greatest prize of all, and you gave it to him so willingly.
His hand slides his hand inside your silken undergarments easilyâones that he bought for you. Itâs gratifying as hell, almost as good as feeling your slick folds against his fingers. He blunts his fingertips and rubs against you.
Alastorâs teeth catch on your neck and heâs more than tempted to bite down, but not just yet. You moan and he relishes it.
âYou like that?â he murmurs against your ear. âYou love it, donât you? Being a good girl for me.â Alastor uses his free arm to wrap around your hips to stop you from moving. âNow, be very good.â
You give a soft little whimper when he wonât let you move anymore, knowing youâre at his mercy when heâs in a mood like this. Fingers slide inside of you, his thumb rubbing over your clit.
âBe still, and be quiet,â he instructs, smiling against your ear.
He can sense the struggle almost as soon as he says it. That little tremble in your thighs. The hand that shoots up to cover your mouth.
âOh, no dear,â Alastor says, pushing it away with his free hand. âDonât test me again. No cheating, no tricks. No magic, no power. Only me.â
Listening to you trying to contain all your little sounds is priceless. Alastor knows how to play your body like a Stradivarius. His fingers move lower, deeper.
âWho makes you feel like this?â he asks, sucking a dark mark against your neck.
Youâre not sure if itâs a trick or not until his little ministrations pause, causing you to whimper again. âYou!â
âAtta girl,â he says affectionately. âYouâre so wet for me.â
He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, his chin rubbing against your neck as he kisses and teases you. "My love, I can feel. You like it, don't you? You like how I can make you fall apart in my hands, helpless to my touch."
He bites your neck softly, his teeth scraping against your skin.
You take a few shaky breaths. âAm I allowed to speak now?â
Alastor pauses, as if deliberating, and the lack of movement in his fingers is excruciating. Your pussy throbs at the loss, clenching around them, and youâre near the point of begging.
âNo,â he says momentarily. âNo, you are not allowed to speak yet. Good of you to ask, darling, but now is the time for you to listen, not to speak. Now, stand up.â
Confused, you manage to get up from his lap and stand one rubbery legs before him. Your eyes give the inquiry your lips cannot.
Alastor parts his knees wide and pulls you to straddle one of his thighs.
Oh!
Your cheeks warm and your jaw opens slightly. You almost shake your head, but Alastor reaches for your chin and holds it between his fingers. With his other hand, he grabs one of your hips and forces you to start moving, the grind against your wet, clothed pussy causing you to gasp.
âIâve missed you in more ways than one,â he says, slapping you on the ass to encourage to ride his thigh on your own.
âIt was my own fault, I know that,â he continues, and places both hands on your hips to support you as you move. âI was insane with jealousy, yes, and that is also my own fault. I cannot tolerate the mere notion that someone else would get to see youâŚlike this. You are so very beautiful, darling. You are so very, very much mine.â
He could never let anyone else have you. He knew that he never would. Surprisingly, his possessive words seem to make you grind harder against him, your hips working more quickly. Alastor welcomes this with a grin.
âAh, my dear.â His hands move from your waist to your ass, squeezing, making you moan for him again. âDonât worry. Iâm not going to let you fall. Come for me.â
Still unsure if youâre allowed to make any sound, you bite down on your lip hard, your eyes on his when a little golden rivulet drips from your poor, abused lip.
With a growl, Alastor lunges at you, though you are still in his lap. You fall down to the rug and heâs on top of you, licking up every trace of golden blood. Nothing could ever compare to it, heâd once said, and it turns him feral every single time he sees it or smells it. He kisses you, gently sucking at that tiny wound until it closes way too soon and his fist pounds the floor in anger. He raises his head, looks at you, and you roll your eyes.
âOkay, okay, but in bed,â you say.
Alastor picks you up quickly and tosses you onto it. He takes off his coat and throws it across the room. His bow tie is next, but you hold your hands out.
âWait!â You say, reaching for him. âThe shirt is my job.â
He grunts in his feral state, but he allows it, and soon his shirt is off and on the floor, forgotten.
âWhere?â he asks raggedly.
âWhere do you want?â you ask with a shrug. âThis is your thing, but Iâm happy to oblige. A bit. Not enough to make me dizzy.â
Permission granted, Alastor falls on top of you and goes straight for the jugular, literally. Just some sharp teeth and bam. He was drinking golden blood straight out of your neck, and you gave him the extra sensory delight of playing with his ears while he did so. Heâs moaning, again and again, and you can feel how hard he is, pressed up against your body.
Eventually you decide heâs had enough and push his head away gently. Alastor kisses you instead, still giving animalistic energy, and rips away every article of clothing that separates you.
You can taste your own blood on his lips.
Somehow in this state Alastor remembers that he told you to come but didnât let you and he quickly works to remedy that. His fingers enter you again. He knows your body well, he knows how to make you come in moments and you do, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Alastor finally leans back to look at the wreck heâs made of you and he smirks.
He holds one of your thighs against his waist and enters you fast, all at once, and the pace he sets is equally feral. Any time your blood came into the mix he truly could not help himself. His strokes are hard, deep, enough to make your knees wobble.
You hear him take a deep inhale and look up at him.
âMy darling, the way you react to me, the way you reactâŚFit so perfectly, like your cunt was made just for my use.â Alastor bites at your neck again, but he wonât try to draw blood.
You grab one of the pillows and put it underneath your hips. This was an especially careful operation, considering how he was pounding you, but it tilted your hips and allowed for a more delicious angle.
Alastorâs clawed hand grabs your other thigh and squeezes hard. âWhat do you think, darling? Do you think this pretty little pussy was made for me?â
You nod several times, finding it harder and harder to catch your breath, but heâs without mercy this time. âJesusâŚâ
âNot an acceptable response, dearest,â he says with a little groan of exertion. He squeezes your thigh again. âNow, I believe I asked you a question. Thereâs only one correct answer, so give it to me.â
The sheets twist beneath your hands. Thereâs a decision to be made. Be forthwith and tell him yes or tease him until heâs out of his right mind.
âDamn it, darling,â he says impatiently.
You smirk. Let the teasing begin. âI donât know.â
âWhat?â Alastorâs claws on your thigh almost drew more golden blood.
âYou asked if my pussy was made just for you,â you say, your words coming out through pants because of his force.
His antlers grew larger, longer. His glare was menacing. His voice was dark.
âThen I suppose I must show you.â
The bed began to shake, and his tone shifted.
âAh, my sweet darling, what I want to do to you right now is beyond description. I want to feel your softness, your warmth, your very essence against me, writhing under my touch. I want to take you, claim you, make you mine completely, with no doubting.â
âAnd how will you do that?â you ask playfully.
His hands grip you tighter, pulling you completely against him. He leans in, his lips trailing along your neck, his voice a low, dark growl in your ear.
âHow will I do that, my sweet darling? I'm going to make you feel so good, make you scream from the pleasure of it. I'm going to kiss you, and touch you, and taste you, until you're so lost in pleasure you don't remember your own name or where you are.â
Your breath comes more and more harshly. âDid you soundproof the room?â
He gives you a look of pure incredulity. âOf course the room is soundproof! These precious little moans and gasps, theyâre all mine, understand? Only I get to hear them, they belong to me!â
âYes, yes!â You gulp for air.
âYou do things to me, darling,â he says, âthings that drive me absolutely wild. Your touch, your scent, your responsiveness, it all makes me ache and desperate for you. And you know it, donât you?â
âI do my best.â You wink up at him. âOut of curiosityâŚwhat do I smell like?â
Alastor growls. âAh, darling, you smell simply divine. I can't get enough of your soft, sweet scent. You smell like honey, like flowers, like the fresh air of a sunny day. It's intoxicating and completely addictive. I can't get enough of it, and I can't get enough of you. There will never be enough.â
âKeep me,â you whisper.
âOh, darling,â he says. âLet there be no doubt in that. Yes, you're all mine. Mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to have. I'm going to make sure you never forget that, darling. You're mine. Do you understand that?â
His hand comes up to gently squeeze at your throat, a warning.
You swallow, knowing he could feel every movement, and nod. âYes, Alastor! Yes!â
His grip on your throat softens somewhat. âYou just love to be under my control, donât you?â
âI love being at your mercy,â you say with a moan.
âIs that so?â Thereâs a grin on his face that presses against his voice, dark and velvet. âAnd why is that? Tell me.â
Your eyes flutter closed. âBecause Iâm the only one safe at your mercy.â
âYouâre right about that,â he says, pushing your thigh higher against your chest. âLook at you. Hair all mussed, lip swollen, bruises on your throat. And I did all of it. Tell me, darling. Tell me.â
âYou did it. You did all of this to me, youâre the only one I wantâŚâ
That was what he truly wanted to hear, you knew. His jealousy is a problem and in all likelihood will continue to manifest itself, but at the root of it he just wanted to be the only one you had an appetite for. He fucks you harder and harder until you start screaming for him.
âYes, yes,â he says, rubbing at your clit now. âGo on, make all of those beautiful, lascivious noises for meâŚâ
You huff and gasp for breath. âAlastor, please, please let me come!â
He chuckles. âYes, darling. That is the goal.â
When it hits you, you gasp first. Your hips grind against his, moving through it, along it, until itâs just too muchâ
But Alastor doesnât stop. He holds you down, fucks you harder, draws it out for as long as he can. He smirks down at you as you shake for what he is doing to youâfor you. His thumb circles your clit one last time before heâs finally merciful.
âSo tight for me, darling,â he says, sucking the words between his teeth. Itâs almost more than he can take, and he knows that itâs coming fast. He justâŚhe needs something first.
He speaks in a gentler tone now, watching the bulge in your stomach move as he fucks you. âDarlingâŚ"
Youâre still gasping for breath. âYeah, honey? What is it?â
âPromise me that IâmâŚenough.â
âEnough?â You laugh, a raspy sound. âYouâre too fucking much.â
Alastor lets out a gravelly moan, its intensity changing the pitch. You could almost swear that you can feel his cum inside you, all white and hot. When he finally stops moving, he leans against your thigh, chasing his breath.
âBravo,â you say, putting your arms around him when he lays down beside you.
"I thought perhaps I had pleased you," he says, shuddering when you rub the base of his ears.
You laugh softly, breath finally caught. "Reconciled?"
Alastor nods. "Indeed. We are reconciled. If...you'll have me, anyway."
"I think that I will," you say, and from the corner of your eye, you see something on the wall and sit straight up, pointing. "That son of a bitch shadow of yours is stealing my feathers again!"
The smiling spectre flaunts his new feather and cuddles closer to your shadow. Maybe they were reconciled, as well.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader smut#alastor x you#alastor x reader#alastor x you smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel Alastor#the radio demon#alastor smut#alastor#hazbin alastor smut#alastor imagines
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David Gaider on Kieran, under a cut for length:
"CHARACTERS - DAY TWO: Kieran (Technically this is an addendum to yesterday, but I make the rules here so nyah!) Heading into DAI, I had a bite-sized problem on my hands. I knew Morrigan would feature. I also knew we were importing previous choices. So now I had to contend with: the Old God Baby. Here's the thing about honouring previous game choices, from a design perspective: it's a sucker's game. What many fans picture, when you mention it, is divergent *plot* -- the story changes path based on those major choices. How exciting! But you will never be able to deliver divergent plot. You can deliver flavour differences (usually in the form of divergent dialogue), character swaps (character X appears instead of Y), and extra content (such as a side quest) -- but plot branching, particularly the critical path? It's a question of resources, and there's never enough to go around. "Here Lies the Abyss" in DAI was about as good as it gets, and even that was a far cry from how I originally pictured it (hello last-minute insert of Stroud when a DAO Warden import got cut). The Old God Baby was one of the main choices from DAO -- Morrigan has a baby? With the Archdemon's soul?! Most DAO players who flagged that choice surely expected *monumental* consequences. World-shaking consequences! And we talked about it. We did. There were, like, three different designs of the DAI ending where OGB Kieran could cause complete divergence: new path, cutscenes, the whole nine yards. But it wasn't going to happen. It was a decision from *two games ago* that only a small minority (hello telemetry) would even choose. To the rest, they probably neither knew about it nor cared... so how many resources could you invest? To do what? Set up an even bigger divergence for the NEXT game? The other writers acknowledged my anxiety with a grim nod every time it came up, but they had no solutions. Finally, I realized there WAS a solution, and that was changing how I thought about the choice: don't make it about Kieran. The players don't know him, never have. Make it about Morrigan. Thus began a feverish three days where I wrote probably the most complicated scene of my career: Morrigan's reckoning with Flemeth in DAI and the fallout after. Three different versions (OGB Kieran, non-OGB Kieran, and no Kieran), each with branching for other choices (like the Well of Sorrows). I did it all at once. There was no other way to wrap my head around the complexity of it. It was also a tough sell to the team, considering the amount of cinematics work, but they agreed we had to do *something*. And still it felt... underwhelming, insofar as divergence goes. But it was also good. I remember when I first spoke with Claudia, about how this was Morrigan's story. This was about how motherhood had changed her, how she'd grown up. Claudia got a bit teary-eyed. It was a journey she was familiar with, she said. Her first son, Odin, had been born in 2005 not long after DAO came out. And, man, she killed with that performance! Kate, too, but I'll get to her later. Claudia dug down, and that scene where Morrigan tells Flemeth she'll never be the mother Flemeth was to her? That came from someplace very raw. It was devastating to witness in the booth. There were tears all around. Not long after, Claudia called and asked if maybe - just maybe - Odin could play Kieran? He was a bit young (not yet 5, then), but it felt... right? We agreed. Claudia was in the booth, gently coaching him through his lines, and I think that was the first moment I felt I'd done the right thing."
[source thread]
User: "Do you find it an odd choice that Kieran hasnât been mentioned at all in Veilguard?" David Gaider: "If thereâs less reactivity in DATV, Iâm unsurprised. Continuing choice from up to 3 games earlier is⌠unsupportable. Yet DA established the expectation they would so⌠damned if you do, damned if you donât?" [source]
User: "EA is one of the biggest game companies ever. I don't think more complex diverging plots are impossible." David Gaider: "Well, if only more writing was all it took. Sadly, it's also cinematics. Art time for all those reappearing characters you probably want to look *just* right. And let's not forget we have to test all those permutations! So I don't disagree with you in spirit, but I don't think it's the answer here." [source]
User: "is there a possibility of future kieran appearances in a book or something similar outside of the games?" David Gaider: "I'd have no way of knowing that." [source]
User: "Iâm actually shocked so little people chose the dark ritual. That was basically the main reason Flemeth sent Morrigan with the wardens, no?" David Gaider: "The impression you get of what "most" players do - in almost any game, not just DA - is very different if you're online a lot. Consider here that it's not just the % of DAO players who chose the Dark Ritual, it's the % of DAI players WHO PLAYED DAO and cared to import that choice 5 years later." [source]
User: "Is there anything you wish you had done differently, in hindsight?" David Gaider: "Probably just to not ever do importing choices between games in the first place." [source]
User: "Kieran only existed in my DAI state b/c Morrigan as a mother really appealed to me. I wasn't expecting to be devastated by those scenes đ I guess when we complain about lack of consequences from prev choices in DAV we must also ask how MUCH are we willing to pay for those branches to exist?" David Gaider: "That's indeed it. Content directed towards reactivity would have to come from somewhere else. So essentially a shorter game overall for the sake of those hardcore fans who'd import - who would, I imagine, REALLY enjoy that... but it's a tough cost/benefit analysis to make." [source]
User: "mr gaider im gonna keep it real with you if i had to choose between my hof and hawke i would've simply passed away" David Gaider: "Right? That was the ENTIRE idea! I was very excited, and for a while it seemed possible." [source]
User: "This has been a very interesting read but I have to ask why they decided to use Stroud instead of the HoF" David Gaider: "1) Complexity of providing means for a player to build a Warden (which they did in DATV for the Inquisitor). Also spoiled the surprise. 2) Weâd have needed to give the Warden a voice. Add these to the cost and it was deemed not worth it." [source]
User: "Genuine question, not a critique - but what made the OGB decision one that couldn't be handwaved as canon no matter what was or wasn't chosen? Leliana and Flemeth being around no matter what come to mind. Was OGB simultaneously too major and too minor of a decision?" David Gaider: "Flemeth and Leliana being alive were easily explainable, and we knew we were doing it even back then. Circumventing the Dark Ritual⌠that would be too cheap. We did talk about it, but it just felt too dishonest. Too high a price for what weâd get in return." [source]
David Gaider: "If Iâd known the Well of Sorrows would only see reactivity in the confrontation with Flemeth, Iâd probably have made a much bigger deal of it." [source]
David Gaider: "We could maybe have gotten past the need to "reconstruct" the Warden, much like the Inquisitor was reconstructed in DATV (so I understand), but the need to give the Warden a voice was the final nail. Too potentially disappointing for the very people who'd be excited about it, aside from the cost." [source]
#dragon age#bioware#video games#morrigan#queen of my heart#long post#longpost#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#dragon age: dreadwolf#dragon age 4#the dread wolf rises#da4
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'cause my love, is mine all mine. tags : fluff, fem!reader, child!reader, reader accidentally turned into child, a little angst and brief mention of his past wc : 2k synopsis : a failed commission leads to wriothesley having to take care of a mini-version of the love of his life - Laughter and squeals echo through the large hall as Sigewinne leisurely skips her way up to the Dukeâs office, the sight that awaits her at the top of the staircase planting a soft smile on her face.Â
A slightly out-of-breath Wriothesley chasing a little girl around his desk, her h/c hair bouncing and flying back and forth as she tries to evade the manâs arms all while giggling and grinning as if there were no tomorrow.Â
To anyone else, this would seem like any other normal afternoon on which the Duke spends time with his daughter, a carbon copy of you, and entertains every single wish of hers because heâs physically unable to tell her no.Â
However, many things that occur in the Fortress of Meropide should not necessarily be considered normal. Because in fact, you and Wriothesley donât have a child that looks exactly like you. Because said child is, as a matter of fact, actually you yet simply a younger version of yourself. How is that possible, anyone would ask?Â
Well, letâs just say that your last commission with the adventurerâs guild didnât exactly go the way you had hoped it to. While on expedition, your team had found a yet unexplored cave and stumbled upon a variety of ancient artifacts.Â
By your colleaguesâ reports, it seems like a look into a small hand mirror was all it took for your body to shrink, and your features to turn younger by two decades.
It has been almost 48 hours since Monsieur Neuvillette had visited him in his office, the young girl that had been tightly holding onto his hand immediately running up to Wriothesley as soon as her eyes fell on him. All it took was one single look at the Iudexâ apologetic expression, as well as one look at the childâs too familiar face to know that something must have gravely gone wrong during your mission.Â
âSigewinne!â You smile when you notice the Melusine quietly standing across the room. With an equally kind face, she waves at you before motioning Wriothesley to have a word with her for a brief moment. So, dejectedly, you watch as the huge man with messy black and greyish hair leaves you to your own devices.Â
With a little pout, you settle down on his big fancy chair, fish out the markers that he had let someone bring for you, and continue the drawing that you started earlier while he was busy with some paperwork.Â
You arenât entirely sure what it is about him, or the other man with beautiful long hair who had brought you to Wriothesley in the first place but- Amidst the chaos in your head, and the fact that you canât remember a single thing that happened before the past two days, something about them was comforting and provided you with a sense of safety. Especially the wolf-like man. He was nice.Â
Thereâs a sudden warmth that settles on top of your head. With big, sparkling eyes, you peer up at Wriothesley whoâs analysing the lines of your colourful drawing while his hand nearly engulfs the entirety of your head. âIs it okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes? Thereâs some stuff I have to check with Sigewinne. I wonât be too long, I promise.âÂ
He notices your eyes widen briefly before you start gnawing on the inside of your cheek and contemplate over his words. Ever since youâve come back like this, Wriothesley has not been able to leave you alone for even a second, which youâre more than happy about because spending time with him is fun! Of course he doesnât let on that the reason behind it is his worry about something happening to you, or you getting yourself in trouble, or someone else using your current state as an opportunity to hurt you.Â
Thatâs why it pains him even more when he sees the brief look of reluctance in your eyes before you nod silently and go back to your drawing.
With a sad smile on his face, he sighs once he realises that even your younger self seems not to be any better at voicing her true feelings, instead opting to just swallow every negative emotion like a bitter pill.Â
With a caress over your soft hair, Wriothesley leaves, and the sound of his thick boots as he descends the staircase echo through his office before the door falls shut behind him.Â
-
True to his word, Wriothesley returns a quarter of an hour later, a small flacon in his hand which is supposed work as an antidote for whatever kind of higher power has cursed you. As much as he has gotten to enjoy your younger selfâs presence, there is no denying that he misses the actual you. And the longer youâre staying in your current form, the more he frets about the possible consequences it could have for your body and health if youâre not turned back into an adult as soon as possible.Â
Climbing his way up to his office, he can already tell by your panicked little murmurs that you must be up to something. If anyone else so much as tried to snoop around in Wriothesleyâs sanctuary, the consequences would be grave. Yet the simple thought of little you stomping around, your eyes sparkling with curiosity as your small chubby hands open and close drawers, and pry open insignificant boxes and chests- He canât help but smile with a little headshake.Â
However, his smile immediately falls when he sees your slumped figure kneeling on the floor, surrounded by books and other objects that must have fallen out of the shelf and crashed down on the floor.Â
You startle when he softly calls out your name, the picture in your hand shaking the slightest before you clutch it to your chest and turn your head to face him.Â
Oh, youâre going to be in so much trouble. All you wanted was to have a look at the framed picture on the shelf, yet in your attempt to jump up to reach it, you accidentally knocked it over with other books and a little vase. And now everythingâs broken. The vase, the frame. Heâll be mad.Â
âHey, what happened here?âÂ
âI-Iâm sorry. I wanted to see the picture b-but-â Your lips wobble, tears fill your eyes, some of them already spilling over your cheeks, as your little body starts to quake with each sniffle and sob.Â
Comforting words are already on his tongue, but when his eyes catch the broken pieces of porcelain and the glass shards, he immediately feels his blood pressure rocket before he gathers you in his arms. The cushions of the leather couch creak as he sets you down on it before his hands trail over your arms and legs, making sure that there arenât any cuts or shards lodged into your delicate skin. âYou didnât hurt yourself right?â
Confusion etches itself clearly on your face, because why is he not yelling at you?Â
At the light shake of your head, Wriothesleyâs shoulder visibly sag as he sighs in relief. âThatâs good. You have to be more careful, sweetheart.â
Your nose wrinkles as you sniff and wipe the snot off your face with the sleeve of the overly large shirt that youâve got on. He seems anything but upset. He smiles gently at you, large and warm hands brushing over your cheeks to wipe the remaining tears away before he throws himself on the couch beside you.Â
âYouâre not mad at me?â You sound like a little mouse, and shyly look up at him through your wet and clumpy lashes. Instead of a scowl and disappointed expression, youâre met with gentle blue eyes and an expression that radiates so much reassurance and comfort that it only confuses you even further. Though, at his next words, you think you understand his reaction a little bit better.Â
âOf course not. I mean itâs not like you knocked those things over on purpose, right?âÂ
The quick shake of your head earns you a thorough ruffle through your hair, paired with a content See? No biggy then, which finally loosens some of the tension and fear in your body. And as the thick paper in your hand crinkles the slightest bit, you realise that you have completely forgotten about the initial reason for this entire ordeal. You hold up the picture in front of your face, and decide to show it to him.Â
âShe⌠sheâs really pretty.â
âYeah?â
You shoot him an earnest expression, lips pressed tightly as you nod eagerly and hum. Wriothesley cocks a brow at you and a wide grin stretches his mouth, his hand again resting on your head. You like when he does that.Â
âYou know, sometimes she doesnât believe me when I tell her how beautiful I think she is. Unbelievable, huh?âÂ
The way you gasp incredulously and look up at him with utter disbelief in your eyes almost makes him bite into your soft apple cheeks. âT-Then you have taâ make sure you tell her more often. Until she believes it!â
Wriothesley seals his promise by hooking his pinky finger around yours, the difference in size making his heart melt into a muddle. And as you hum satisfiedly and return your attention back to the picture of you and him that has been taken a few months ago, he has to admit that as much as he misses the real you- He wonât miss this version of you any less.Â
But the presence of the little flacon in his pocket burns in his pocket, and as Sigewinneâs words echo through his mind, he comes to the realisation that bed time is slowly but surely approaching.Â
-
As the sun rises, and the fortress automatically comes to life again, Wriothesley is more than relieved to notice your long legs entangled with his, your arm fully able to reach around his waist and pull yourself closer to him. Giving you the potion before falling asleep just as he has been instructed to do must have done the work. However, as his fingertips brush over your cheek, heâs alarmed at the sudden moisture coating them.Â
âLove? Whatâs-â
Youâre awake. He notices when you bury your face further into his neck and refuse to look at him while tightening your hold on him. Speechless and with a still sleepy and hazy mind, Wriothesley instinctively buries his hand in your hair on the back of your head, the light massaging motions of his fingers seeming to calm you.Â
With a wet sniff, you eventually pull back and allow him to have a look at you. The same pretty eyes, the same gorgeous smile, the same cute nose that he loves to brush his own against, but this time with slightly less chubbier cheeks and a more mature expression.
âAre you alright?â His body follows yours as you sit up without uttering a word, and instead proceed to wipe your tear stained cheeks. âHow are you feeling?âÂ
The longer the silence between you lingers, the more Wriothesley becomes agitated. Could it be that the potion has any side effects? Physically, at least, you seem to be fine yet-
âIâm sorry. Iâm fine, I promise. Itâs just-â With a last sniff and brush of your finger along your waterline, you turn towards him with a wobbly smile and throw yourself back into his arms. Yeah, wiping all those tears away was for naught. âGosh, Wriothesley, I just love you so much, you have no idea.âÂ
Wide eyed, he accepts your embrace and snorts at your sudden outburst of love. Naturally, he would never dare to complain about it. Instead, his nose buries in your neck, inhaling your scent, his arms tighten around your waist, hands roam over your back and take in each and every part of your body.Â
He's truly missed you.
You donât remember much of the past few days, yet what you do remember perfectly well is the warmth, love and care with which you had been handled. Itâs overflowing and filling you with even more adoration for this man because youâre fully aware that it has been him who has taken care of you. Wriothesley, who never truly got to experience the same kind of affection in his early life, who has seen too many atrocities at such a young age. Your heart breaks over the things that he has missed, yet it mends again at the realisation of how proud you are of him. How proud and lucky you are for him to be yours, and you to be his.Â
And of course, it goes without saying that after this little incident it doesnât take long until you and him happily announce that if all goes well, in a few months there will be a mini-version of you and him running around the fortress of Meropide. They will fill the place with joy and laughter, and yours and Wriothesley's life with even more happiness and love.
#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley genshin#wriothesley x you#wriothesley x y/n#genshin wriothesley#wriothesley fluff#wriothesley drabble#genshin x reader
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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER TEN
thought iâd be lying if i said âi didnât want you to myself.â when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that itâs mine, iâŚ
pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc
taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l
warnings angst (?), homophobia/homophobic slur, sexual innuendos, sexual content.
kalena speakss đŞ˝! so hereâs the ACTUAL chapter ten, i accidentally posted a different version last night so if you saw that just completely disregard it lmao
July 2025 â Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, CaliforniaÂ
ââPreciate you cominâ out, man.â I nod, my hand giving a firm dap to Julian.
Yeah, the Julian whoâs girlfriend I seem to be helplessly obsessed with.
We had just beat the Fever at home in a blow out on the second night of a back-to-back. My body is aching, and as soon as I left the locker room, I was ready to push through those metal doors and go home. Maybe stop for some dinner too.Â
Until I heard it. The voice that has replayed in my head rather than in my ears for the last week and a half. That slight southern drawl with the occasional upbeat ending. Itâs perfect, and I didn't realize how bad Iâd missed it until now.
I meant it when I thought I needed a break. Maraye was running laps in my head, like a marathon. Sheâs all I seem to be surrounded by. But thereâs so many issues, and Nika was right: I donât need to be getting hurt again.
So I stepped back, wanting to figure out what I really did want.Â
Now I know that I want her in my bed, hands in my hair, moans of my name leaving her mouth. More importantly, though, I want her to be mine. So damn badly. I wanted to grow with her, watch her succeed up close, to do all the things with her that come with a relationship.Â
That shit was fucking terrifying. I can't remember the last time I let a girl get this close to me. To learn me in the way Maraye has been able to. Or even being able to learn her in the way that I have.
So when she stands there, next to Julian in her curve hugging jeans and a cropped shirt with my name and number, her eyes looking everywhere but at myself, I know that something is off.
âCongrats All-star.â She says to me, eyes looking at me but not really. She darts everywhere but at my eyes, which normally are her main attraction.
The All-star list dropped at halftime, Rickea and Dearica making the list as well. A smile spreads onto my face and I finally drop my hand from Julianâs. âThanks, angel.â It slips. I shouldnât have said it, not here in front of him. I knew I shouldnât.
It was so natural, falling from my tongue like butter.Â
I see his eyebrows furrow, looking down at his girlfriend as if she would stop me from calling her that again.Â
âYou cominâ to Indy?â
âI was thinking about it. Yeah.â Raye answers and itâs the first time throughout this awkward exchange that I actually see those eyes. Wide, doe, eyes that I know I could happily spend the rest of my life just looking at. âUh, we. We were thinking about going.â She corrects when Julian darts his head to her.
I nod, wiping the palms of my hands on the side of my jeans.Â
âI should probably head out, Ion wanna keep yâall too long.â I force out through the tension. I donât want to leave. Because I know that as soon as I do, Iâm going to force myself into more dry texts and ignore her calls and keep myself away from looking at that damn perfect face.Â
âYou sure?â Julian questions me. His tone is skeptical, like he knows something that I donât. Or that he knows something that he shouldnât.
âYeah, I got some places to be at too.â I hum, pulling my phone out to look at the time. Itâs not late, barely even 10 oâclock, but that slight movement is enough to make them both think I have other plans.
Maraye pushes her curls from her face, the bright white hallway lights make her gold septum glisten in her nose. âIâll see you around then?â She asks, taking a step closer to me and we hug.
The only difference is this hug isnât what Iâm used to. It isnât the hug where her arms wrap around my neck, mine feel on the swell of her ass, and I can smell every bit of the scent she chose to wear. That would be too risky.
So instead she holds me by my side, my arm cautiously around her shoulder while her palm presses into my back. Itâs difficult for me to keep my composure because deep down I know that I should be able to hug her however I damn well please.Â
And I canât.
All because of him. Itâs always him.
â
The hum of the engine is all that fills the car, along with the occasional voice of whatever rapper Julian has playing at minimal volume while I drive.Â
Itâs been like this for a minute. Just the two of us sitting quietly, my finger tips occasionally tapping against the steering wheel while he stares out the window. Iâm supposed to be taking us to his place, weâd eat some dinner and maybe watch a movie.
âSo, you and Paige, huh?â He asks, his voice so monotonous.
My hands start to sweat and nearly slip down the wheel. âWhat?â
He turns his head towards me and though my eyes are glued to the road ahead, I can feel the way his dark eyes are burning holes into my skin.Â
âYou and her. Yâall got something goinâ on? She callinâ you angel and you donât do nothinâ about it?â His voice casually picks up, going from nonchalant to angry in a matter of seconds. I briefly look at him, and even through the darkness of the night I can see his light skin slowly build in a red tint.
âPaige and I are friends, Ju.â I breathe out. I know thatâs true, even though itâs also a lie. Paige and I stopped being just friends the second I kissed her on my couch.
âThen why the hell is it that you been hanging out with her so much, but the second Iâm around yâall wanna be all awkward and you wanna look at the floor?â
Itâs my fault for thinking that he wouldnât be able to pick up on our awkward exchanges, because the tension was very noticeable. It was my first time seeing her since that night in the studio. Sheâs been avoidant lately, and honestly I couldnât even blame her.
She was over it. And I guess I am too.Â
Yet, here I stand, lying to Julian once again and letting him think nothing is wrong. Keeping him at arm's reach when I should really be letting him go.
âIâm sick of fighting, Julian.â I told him. Thatâs also true. I am so damn exhausted from all the back and forth yelling, but right now I just really donât want to have this specific conversation.Â
âAnswer my fucking question, Raye. Are you fucking her?â He yells, never taking his glance off the side of my face.
âWhat, no!â I look over at him again, my hands shaking while I grip the wheel. âQuit being so insecure! Just because I got good people in my life, doesnât mean Iâm fucking them. Iâm with you.â
I hate this. This lying and manipulation. I fucking hate it because this isnât who I am. Iâm not an asshole. Iâm not a cheater. Then here I am, doing everything I write about in my songs, hurting him just to protect my own image.
âInsecure? You think Iâm jealous of that fucking fag? Like she can give you anything that I do.â He scoffs. His words hit my ears and as I process them, they taste bitter. Every gear in my head starts turning and I start to get angry. Not at what he said, but how he speaks about her. I waste no breath in defending her.
âWatch how the fuck you talk about her, Ju.â
We approached his apartment complex.
âWhy you defending her?â
âWhy are you calling her out her name?â I yell back.
Heâs silent. We stop at a light and I turn my whole head to make eye contact with him. âShouldâve never that you get close to that fuckinâ dyke. You wanna fuck around with her, go do that shit then.â
I reach for the panel on my door, pressing the unlock button. The click echos through the car. âGet out.â
He looks at me surprised, as if he didnât expect me to say that to him. âRaye.â
âNo. You wanna talk to me crazy, you wanna talk about Paige crazy. So get the fuck out.â I reason. âYour place is right there. Walk. Get the fuck out of my car, Julian.â
He scoffs, slumping back against the seat. âMan, you crazy.â
âGet out of my car. You think Iâm fuckinâ joking?â I laugh completely irritated. I reach for his phone, taking it off aux and throwing it into his lap. I look at him expectantly.
Julian huffs, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the passenger door. He hops out, looking at me with squinted eyes. âSo youââ
âClose my door.â I cut him off, no longer looking back at him, but the green light that is blaring at me to keep driving.
He huffs, slamming the door and I speed off as soon as he does so.
I sit with my own thoughts. So much running through my head, but it all goes back to her. And suddenly I donât care about the lying or the distance. I just want to talk to her. To talk to Paige.
I pull off into a nearby gas station, pulling my phone out of my purse.
can we talk?
It isnât even a few seconds before the gray text bubbles pop up on my screen. Then they disappear and I groan.
Until they pop up again, this time fast and insistent.
Yeah we should
Come over?
I know better. Me and Paige donât have a great track record of keeping our hands to ourselves when weâre alone. So I should text back that we should meet somewhere else.
Thatâs until she texts me again: Please?
send your addy
And she does.
â
My leg bounces from where I sit on a kitchen stool. Itâs not in the anxious way, but in the distracting way. My arm is stretched out over the edge of the counter that I lean on. My fingers tug on my bottom lip while I look at her.
Rayeâs been here for a few minutes, going on about something Julian has done. I was listening at first, I think he knows and argument being the specific terms that stuck in my head.
She stood in front of me, pulling her curls up into a bun on the top of her head. It makes the hem of that damned cropped shirt ride up on her body and expose gold jewelry on her belly button.
So yes, itâs hard to listen to what sheâs saying when sheâs practically tempting me right now. But I do listen when she says:
âI dunno. Iâm done with all of this shit.â
If I were a dog, my ears would practically be perking up at it. I sit up straight, leaning with my elbows on my knees to get closer. To make sure I heard her correctly.
Throughout this whole encounter with Maraye, sheâs only ever told me she was tired or that she was bothered. Not once did she ever tell me she was done, and that makes all the difference.
âYouâre done? For real?â
âYes. I dunno. Itâs not that simple, P.â
I let out a scoff. âYes it is. You arenât comfortable âround him like you are with me. You donât spend all day with him like you do with me.â I shrug my shoulders, slightly frustrated. I feel like Iâve given Raye enough evidence that Iâm better, as cocky as it sounds. But yet here we are. âItâs hella simple. You jusâ donât wanna admit it.â
âI didnât come here for you to scold me.â
âSo whatcha come here for then, huh?â I ask, standing up from the stool.Â
My hair tumbles down my shoulders as I tower over her. Marayeâs eyes trail down my body and the white shirts that clings to each ridge of my body.
âYou wanna kiss me? Wanâ me to fuck you? Wanna keep talking about him? What do you want, Raye? âCause I know what I asked you to come here for.â
âAnd whyâd you do that, Paige?â She responds, getting in my face.
I should be bothered and put up yet another defense. Then Iâm reminded that sheâs already defensive, herself. Sheâs frustrated from all the arguing that took place the minute I left her and Julian at Crypto.Â
Sheâs mad. And normally Iâd justify her anger, but tonight; itâs all our fault. We made a mess, started seeing each other in a way that we shouldnât have and Julian caught on. He knows.
âWell for one, Ion wanna be a home-wrecker.â I say, throwing my hands up. âYou might be over him theoretically and he might be a raging asshole, but I donât do that shit, Raye.â And I donât.
Fooling around, seeing multiple girls, I used to do a lot of it. I can admit that. Home-wrecking, however, has never been on my list.
Raye lets out a snort. âSpell theoretically.â
I huff and run my hands through my hair. âYouâre so unbelievably annoying.â I respond, stepping away and walking past her to my couch but she tugs my arm.
âOkay, wait.â She laughs. âYouâre right.â
âIâm always right.â
âYeah, okay.â I stand in front of her again. This time weâre even closer, her hand wrapped around my wrist. âWhat do you want me to do?â Itâs more of a statement than a question because she knows.
She knows I want her to breakup with him and choose me and then let me fuck her within an inch of her life immediately after. That, I could get behind.
âYou wanna hear me say it?â
âPlease?âÂ
Rayeâs free hand trails up my arm. Sheâs so tempting, the words so close to dying on my tongue and not being heard at all. Her voice is so enticing, and she looks up at me through her lashes like I hung the moon.
âI⌠want you, to make a fucking decision.â My voice doesnât waver as I look deep into her eyes. âYou can choose whoever you want, but I canât keep doinâ this. You choose.â
This is the closest Iâm going to get to fighting her off. I donât push her arm off of me or tell her to back up. This is the closest Iâll get, because I simply canât get enough of her.
âOkay.â Maraye nods, clutching onto my bicep.
âOkay? Thatâs it? You not gonna yell at me for making you choose?â
She smiles and shakes her head. The bun on her head shakes a little, and it makes me smile too. âIâll choose. You gotta give me some time thoâ. Few days maybe?â
It seems pretty reasonable to me, though Iâd rather she break up with him right this minute over the phone, that would be just a bit crazy.
âWe got a road trip. Iâll be gone all week, that work?â
âYouâre really serious about this, huh?â
âI just need to know. You pick him, fine.â I shrug. âBut if you pick me, even better.â
She grins. âItâs giving Meredith Grey.â
Now I push her off me, listening to the way her laugh fills my ears and bounces off the walls. She stumbles back a tad before catching me on the couch. My back rests against it while Maraye stands in front of me, the spot between my legs becoming designated for her.
âCâmon. It was funny!â
âYouâre an idiot.â
âIâm a sexy idiot.â
I hum, rolling my eyes.
It was things like this I missed. The laughter, the jokes, the comfort. Sure she was stunning, and the flirting and kisses were otherworldly, but this topped it. These moments with Maraye that were so hard to come by.
I like the way she looks when sheâs looking down at me. Itâs intimidating, but still so damn hot.
âA very sexy one.â I finally respond, sitting up more so she can see me better. âThese jeans look incredible on you, by the way.â
âYeah? You wanâ a 360?â Raye jokes.
âI want a 180, angel.â I reply. My hands reach for her hips, playing with the fabric of her belt loops. Raye brushes me off, making a frown spread across my mouth.Â
She bows her head to check the dainty watch on her wrist. âItâs late, P. I should get home.â
âYou could stay here with me.â My hands drop from her body, instead using my eyes to suggestively try and convince her to stay the night. Itâs a joke. Mostly.
âAnd you were the one who said no more home-wrecking.â
â
My lips are pressed against hers, tongues swirling and spit swapping between the both of us.
Itâs urgent. More urgent than any way Paige has ever kissed me before. She doesnât give me a second to think before her finger is breaking me open and Iâm gushing all over her. The stretch is so foreign, and I canât believe how unbelievably full I feel with just one finger.
âLike this?â She asks after pulling back with a nasty suck of my tongue. Iâm nodding at her words tucking my lip between my teeth.Â
âMmph yes. Yes.â A whimper rumbles from my mouth. I clutch into her shoulder, tossing my head back until it hits the pillow under me.Â
My legs start closing in on themselves when she adds a second one. âIâm tryna make you feel good, baby. Why you fightinâ me?â Paige asks. Her voice as deep and hungry as I ever heard it.Â
Her fingers curl into me, thumb rubbing tight circles on my unbelievably sensitive clit. She found it within a matter of milliseconds, it felt like. And the lights were off.
âHe fuck you better than me? Huh?â
I barely hear her over the sound of my own cunt but that doesnât stop me from shaking my head eagerly. âNo. Fuck no, P. He doesnât.âÂ
Iâm nearly melting at the stimulation. Her voice in my ear and her fingerâs scissoring me apart
âP.â I hiccup, nothing else filling my head except the pleasure Iâm feeling. Her fingers are so damn long, tickling the deepest parts of me that I didnât even know existed. She consumes me, swallows me whole.Â
Her mouth finds my neck again, biting on my sensitive spot and making my eyes roll. Iâm so close, my arousal already dripping past my cunt and onto the sheets below my ass. Itâs messy. Wet and messy.
âYou wanna cum for me, angel?â Paige teases, licking at the mark she left on my neck.
âFuck, Fuck! âMm God, P, youâreââ
âYouâre doinâ so good, ma. I know you wanna cum.â She nods. âJust let me have it.â
âPaige!â I moan, reaching to grip her hand.
âPretty fuckinâ girl. Cum, baby. Iâm right here.âÂ
Her words add unbelievable fuel to the fire and my back arches underneath her body. Sheâs talking me through it, bringing me to the edge and I gasp before waking up.
The sun peeks through my blinds and sleep still crusts my eyes. I wipe them, sitting up half naked in my bed.Â
I got home late last night. Closer to one in the morning. Paige was distracting, and I simply couldnât just leave when she was begging me to stay.
My body is sweaty, my breath is embarrassingly ragged, and My panties are so soaked under the shorts I wore to bed.Â
When I sit up, the duvet covering my body, I reach for my phone. Then I see them, the hundreds of texts and calls from Julian and the text from Paige.
Hope you make the right decision
Iâll see you when I get back ma đŤśđź
#sierrale8ne#kalenaâs works ৠâ§âË đľ â
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers smut#uconn wbb#la sparks#lesbian#my fic#40 days and 40 nights
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NNN Bumbleby: Ok so to explain better. Remember the NNN you did for Cinder where both Cinder and Pyrrha were seducing Jaune? I was asking for something like that. Jaune,Blake, and Yang would all be dating each other. Blake and Yang would be trying to get Jaune to fail NNN.
Now it makes sense.
Okay, let's write this out.
///
NNN: BMBL
Yang: ...
Blake: ...
Yang: So... you failed?
Blake: Yeah... Did manage to succeed?
Yang: No...
Blake: So, I guess we need to come up with a different plan...
Yang: Agreed. Tell me what you did, that way we won't repeat the failure.
Blake: Only if you do the same.
Yang: Okay. You first.
Blake: I tried playing, 'Master's pet.' I dressed in a furry bikini, had a collar on my neck, and waited for, Master to claim his pet!
Yang: Ohh! That sounds hot!
Blake: It was hot! But, Jaune opened the door, to see my sexy splendor, just as fast he slammed the door on me...
Yang: Ouch...
Blake: What about you?
Yang: Oiled up bikini.
Blake: Ohhh~?! That sounds hot!
Yang: I flaunted off my glistening abbs towards him, showing off my oiled body in all it's glory~! Then I slipped on the oil, and fell flat on my face...
Blake: Ohh?! THat must have killed the buzz.
Yang: Yeah, 'Sexy times' mood was utterly ruined when, Jaune had grab a napkin when my nose started bleeding...
Blake: Yeah, that's a total buzz kill.
Yang: What else did you try?
Blake: Well it wasn't intentional... but, I accidently got tangled up in a net.
Yang: A net? How did you do that?
Blake: Oh, Jaune, and I were putting away some gym supplies, when a net fell down on me. I was in the perfect position to live out one of my fantasies, and all, Jaune had to do is pull down his pants, and take me!
Yang: And!?
Blake: And, Jaune started untangling me from the net...
Yang: Oh...
Blake: Yeah, but in retrospect, considering how difficult, and long it took, Jaune to get me out of my netting it was probably for the best...
Yang: Ha!
Blake: Yeah, I'll just ask, Jaune to tie me to the bed, and take me instead.
Yang: Nice! I tried rubbing against in class once!
Blake: Oh! Saucy~! How did that go?
Yang: Detention.
Blake: Oh...
Yang: Yeah... Ms. Goodwitch didn't take too kindly to me grinding on my boyfriend during her class...
Blake: Yeah, I can see that...
Yang: Worst part is I almost had him. I whispered one thing in his ear, and he almost snapped!
Blake: What did you say
Yang: Big bro~!
Blake: Oh that's so...?! Oh? Oh! OH! I just came up with a great idea!
Yang: What's the idea?
Blake: Wouldn't you like to know... Step sister~!
Yang: ...
Yang: Ohhh~?
~~~
Jaune: Haa... Man dealing with, Nora's actions is exhausting... how are you two doing... GRK?!
Blake: Ahhh~!
Yang: Mhhh~!
Blake: Ahh~?! Step sister! You're hand?! Ohh~! It's...?!
Yang: Is exactly where you want it~!
Blake: Ahh~! Big sis...?! Oh~? H-H-Hi, Step brother~!
Jaune: S-Step brother...?!
Yang: Oh, hey, Big brother~!
Jaune: B-B-Big brother?!
Yang: I found our little sister playing with herself on your bed... I decide to punish her for being naughty~! Will you help me punish this naught kitty, big brother~!
Jaune: ...
Jaune: My, my, my... My little sisters are such naughty little girls~!
Jaune: Whatever shall I do~?
Blake: Punish us, step brother~!
Yang: With you're big hot rod~!
Jaune: That should do it~!
#rwby#jaune arc#yang xiao long#blake belladonna#nora valkyrie#glynda goodwitch#jaune x yang#yang x jaune#blake x jaune#jaune x blake#yang x blake#blake x yang#rwby dragonslayer#rwby knightshade#rwby bumbleby#rwby stungknight#rwby colourguard
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hi! I hope you donât mind me asking but may I request a Telemachus x fem reader where when ody returns and is being made fun of by the suitors while still in this begger disguise yn starts fighting off the suitors and yelling at them for being rude and maybe later joins ody while he is hunting them down and Telemachus has a love sick look while watching yn just like ody did for Penelope back when they were younger before he married her and after seeing how cool and awesome of a warrior yn is later ody turns to his son and says âI aprove of this one đâ and poor Telemachus is just like đł all flustered and adorable what can I say Telemachus is a sweetie đĽ°
feel free to ignore if you want to hope you have a good rest of your day thank you âşď¸
âI approve of this one.â
Telemachus x Reader
[Epic The Musical]
oneshot
fluff
This is my first proper romantic reader insert fic, so I hope you enjoy!
Odysseus sat at the entrance of the courtyard under the shade of a large olive tree as he silently observed the numerous suitors scattered across the courtyard in idle chatter. Is this really what had become of his home while he was gone? It was baffling just how ungrateful and disrespectful all these guests were. He worried for the state of his palace after being infested with all these unwelcome guests for so many years. It must have been so difficult on Penelope and Telemachus to deal with all of them, having to feed and house them along with dealing with their pitiful attempts at courting his wife. It was a wonder why the suitors still havenât been driven out by Telemachus yet.
His hand fiddled with the small wooden bowl in his hands. Odysseus was disguised as an old beggar, but as much as he wanted to reveal himself right then and there he needed to be patient and play it smart. He didnât have anything other than an old knife hidden in his clothes to defend himself with and he was probably lacking a lot of proper nutrients and sustenance after being out at sea for so long with food of limited quality and quantity. If he were to fight all these suitors right now, he was sure to fail. Not only do they have an advantage in numbers, it was obvious they were well fed, and all the used training equipment seen around the palace was all he needed to know the suitors could fight. If Odysseus wanted to win, he needed to stick to the plan, which meant playing his part as an old beggar.
A suitor passed by him devouring a chicken leg and he held out his bowl to him. It would be a good opportunity to not only learn more about the state of his palace and family, but to also know just what his family has been up to in the past years. âWould you care to spare a bit of food for this old man?â The suitor tilted his head to look down at Odysseus for a moment before raising a brow. âAnd what exactly is this homeless old man doing in a palace like this? Surely your life hasnât fallen so far into poverty that youâd go scrounging for scraps in the homes of royalty.â He leaned back against the tree, hands crossing over his legs. âWell, that wasnât exactly my plan. I was just walking by but with the heat of the sun and with a body as frail and weak as mine, I just had to take a break under the shade of this mighty tree. I was always curious of what happened in the lives of royalty anyway.â He said as he looked up at the leaves and branches. He remembers planting it so many years ago to see how to take care of an olive tree as preparation for making his and Penelopeâs marital bed. It's grown so much since then, and he wonders just how much Telemachus has as well. âWell, since you have so much spare time to just wander around doing nothing, why donât you bring us all a meal or two, all the way from inside the palaceâs pantry. You want some food? Work for it, old man.â
Odysseus raised a hand waving off the offer. âAh, but there might be one small problem. I am just an old beggar, remember? I donât know anything of the layout of the palace. Iâm sorry, but I must decline. Canât you just ask a servant to help you instead?â The suitor seemed to get irritated at his reply. âHa! Yeah right, those servants can barely do anything right. They never bring the food on time and always seem to be short on stock. Not even their pathetic prince seems to know what heâs doing.â He stared at the suitor judgmentally. â âPathetic princeâ you say? Bold words for someone whoâs staying in his palace.â The suitor looked at him as if he had just said something audacious instead of common sense. âListen old man, weâre the guests here, not them. Do you not understand basic hospitality?â Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the suitor. He knew his palace, his servants and the workforce in it. They arenât lazy or incompetent, if they were they wouldnât be serving his family. Not to mention, if there wasnât enough livestock there were plenty of skilled hunters and hunting dogs to accompany them. His memories of old hunts with Argos and others were more than enough proof of that.
âOf course I do. Perhaps instead of trying to defend your impudence against the prince, you could put away your prideful hurbis for a moment and just lend me even an inch of the food you already have on you. For someone relying on the shared hospitality of someone else for their own comfort, you sure donât seem to be able to do the same.â The suitorâs bored annoyance quickly morphed into thinly veiled anger. âListen you old derelict, need I remind you that this is not your courtyard you are resting in? This is not your abode and I do not tolerate your insults. For someone who seems to preach so strongly for returning hospitality, you donât seem too keen on basic respect.â Odysseus hid his amusement at the irony with indifference. âAlthough that may be true, last I checked this isnât your home either.â That statement alone seemed to be enough to push him over the edge into full blown rage. Odysseus jumped away from the suitorâs flying fist as it hit the trunk of the tree where his head used to be. âYou know, for someone so insistent on how they have difficulty doing physical activities youâre awfully quick to move.â The suitor began to walk towards him, his larger form towering over him and casting a shadow that engulfed Odysseusâs entire form. âListen here old man. If you think you can just run off after that impudence, your mind must be as deteriorated as your age.â Odysseus continued to back up, hand immediately searching for the knife he hid. A chill crept up his spine when his back hit something. Turning around, it was another suitor, the others beginning to close in on him. Fuck, he messed up. The suitor he first talked to grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up to his face so Odysseus could face him. âNow, I think it's time that you finally learned a long needed lesson on hospitality and what happens when you donât respect your host-â
âHey! What the hell is all this racket?â Odysseus never turned his head away from the suitor, but averted his gaze towards the newcomer. A woman emerged from inside the palace and stared at the scene before her in a moment of silence before her once confused gaze immediately morphed into an infuriated wrath that could rival the suitorâs own rage. âAntinous, what do you think youâre doing! Gods above and below, has no one ever taught you to respect your elders?â She marched on towards the both of them, unshaken by any visible fear at the obvious violent intent of the suitors. She gripped the suitorâs, now known as Antinous, wrist and forcefully yanked it away from him, letting Odysseus fall to the ground. Antinous opened his mouth, ready to yell at her but the woman cut him off as she glared coldly at him. âThe queen is watching us.â She said as she stared into the suitors eyes as if daring him to try anything. The mention of Penelope is all he needed to whip his head towards the balcony he knows she always loved to use to watch the courtyard. And there she was, elegant and poised, watching with a composed face as she always does. He could see how sheâs changed from when he last saw her, the small streaks of white in her hair that werenât there before, the wrinkles and tired eyes. But he didnât care, for it was his Penelope, and Odysseus felt like he was falling in love all over again.
Penelope observed them silently, looking at each person one by one before her eyes eventually met his. For a moment, it felt like time froze and they did nothing but stare at each other. It was like the world itself was holding its breath. It was the smallest difference in her eyes that made his chest swell with warmth. Those indifferent calculated eyes that always seemed to be studying every little detail softened for a moment, her composed face faltering for a split millisecond to look at him with the same eyes that looked at him with so much affection and appreciation when he told her how heâd tackle the challenge she gave him. The tension in the air was so thick, yet only he could feel it⌠and maybe she did as well. Logically, Odysseus knew that they had only been looking at each other for a mere few seconds, but it felt like he was staring for an eternity at something so close yet so far. And Penelope did nothing else but silently stare back. She shifted her position, pulling away from the scene and returning back inside. Odysseus let out a breath he didnât even realize he was holding. It felt like time suddenly began moving once more when it had always been flowing, falling through his fingers like flowing water with no hope of holding on to it.
âAntinous, if you do not explain to me what exactly you were doing I can and will tell Penelope.â The woman said as she walked in front Odysseus, whoâs gaze still lingered on the balcony for another moment before returning to look at the suitors and the new woman. Antinous sneered. âAnd why should I? Your family may be up there in terms of status, but youâre nowhere near close to me.â He sneered. âAnd? Do you think I care? You already showed just how petty you get because someone bruised your fragile ego. I still havenât forgiven you for the fight with Telemachus.â The woman took a step forward towards the suitor, but he didnât move. âAnd? The boy started it.â Another step forward and another rise in tension. âWho exactly called his mother a tramp? Thatâs right, you.â Another step forward until she was right in front of him. At this point even more suitors began to crowd around them to see what was happening, and Odysseus dreaded a physical fight would break out.
âWell then, since you seem so keen on berating me for teaching the little wolf a lesson, why donât I give you an opportunity to even out the scales?â Antinousâs fist met the womanâs face, sending her stumbling back. She regained her balance before gently touching her face, a bruise forming on her right cheek. Whispers and murmurs emanated from the crows as it grew larger, more suitors joining the audience and a few servants discreetly watching from the sidelines. She looked at her own blood smeared against her fingers before turning her attention towards Antinous. âI gladly accept.â She ran forward, fist aimed at Antinousâs face. The suitor held his forearm up to block it, only for her to twist her foot, turning around to kick him from behind without her fist ever making contact with him. Antinous was pushed forward a step from the force of the kick, but quickly recovered, turning around to grab her by the leg she used to kick him. The crowd around them began cheering as he pulled her forward into another punch, which was blocked by her own forearms, now also bruised. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a headbutt, unable to dodge or move away because of their position.
The sound of a wooden bowl hitting Antinousâs head caused all sound to cease, the silence deafening as everyoneâs heads turned to look at the source of the bowl. Antinous glared at Odysseus, who was hiding his grip on his knife in his oversized clothes. Antinous let go of the woman who fell on the floor, wincing at her bruises. Odysseusâs grip on his knife tightened as he took a step forward towards him. He opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off by a young voice. âStop! Whatâs going on he- [NAME]!â A young boy shoved his way through the crowd and into the clearing that formed around the olive tree, rushing towards the side of the young woman. He kneeled beside her as he assessed her wounds. Antinous crossed his arms in annoyance as the young boy began to ceaselessly fuss over her. Odysseus stared at the boy, he could recognize those eyes from anywhere. â[name], are you okay? What happened?â
âTele, Iâm fine. It's just a few bruises, Iâm not an old frail man.â She said as she sharply turned to look at Antinous. âUnlike the person a certain someone was harassing.â Odysseus stared at the young man- no, his son. No wonder he looked so familiar. He had his motherâs eyes and the same fair skin as her, but the face and hair of his own. His head was reeling, it had been so long since heâd seen his young boy. He was all grown up now, grown through all those special moments in his life Odysseus would never be able to experience. Gods, he missed his first hunt, his first training session, he missed being able to teach his son all the things he promised heâd pass on from his mentorship under Athena. But now Telemachus was right there, but he still couldnât teach him all the things he wasnât able to.
Antinous looked at all three of them one by one, from Odysseus to Telemachus in increasing disgust. âIâve had enough of this, the way both of you act around each other is nauseating.â He said as he left the courtyard and into the building. Telemachus helped [name] up and she turned to look at Odysseus. âI am so sorry for all this. My intent was only to help you get that pig off your back,â She said as she looked at the direction Antinous left in with so much disgust it almost gave Odysseus whiplash from her original apologetic tone. âbut it seems my impulsiveness got the better of me. Usually I try not to cause fights but Iâm not exactly the best at not doing that.â She said shamefully. âOh please, it's quite alright. I understand what itâs like. Sometimes, when youâre in the heat of the moment, your emotions cloud your judgement and youâre so focused on doing what you thinkâs right that⌠you donât realize the consequences that might follow.â He said with a wistful smile. âI really have no idea what happened, but I apologize either way. Please, have this for your troubles.â Telemachus said as he handed him money, before cutting through the crowd to probably lead [name] to get healed. Odysseus stared at the coins placed in his hand, it was enough to buy him a whole house.
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The metallic stench of blood filled your nose as you walked across the wet floor, the red liquid staining your sandals. The faint light of the torches could barely illuminate the dark room, the moonâs light nowhere to be seen through the windows. What little the light did show was nothing but puddles of blood and the faint outline of bodies. Right there, at the end of the room were twelve axes that were originally supposed to be used for the challenge queen Penelope made for her suitors. It didnât take long for you to hear about what went wrong, and it took even shorter for you to make your way here. You grabbed one of the axes, testing its weight as you gave it a few experimental swings. The silence of the challenge room was so quiet you could hear your own wet footsteps echo as you tested the axe. You internally facepalmed as you looked down at your weapon, realizing just how little you thought this through. You had no plan in mind, you just heard that Telemachus was also fighting and just had to join. The idea of fighting alongside him was exhilarating, and meeting his father, king Odysseus and master tactician that won the war? You didnât really think too hard on your decision to join. As much as you hated to admit it, Telemachus and your father were right. You really needed to think things through more.Â
Your body tensed when you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room, your grip on your axe tightening. Well, if you were good at one thing, it was brazenly charging into battle. You readied your stance, prepared for a fight. Since you werenât able to kill Antinous, youâll have to settle for killing the suitor first. The moment the bright light of a torch rounded the corner of the entryway, you charged forward, swinging your axe towards their head. Being on the other side of the room, they had plenty of time to jump out of your way. Now, you were at the entrance and they were trapped inside the room. Their torch illuminated their face and you took a moment to look at them. Eurymachus, the cowardly one. âHey, [name], let us talk about this! I never once went out of my way to hurt you nor Telemachus, I always payed my due respects to her majesty. It was Antinous that-â
âLead you and your fellow scum in the plan to execute my betrothed in secret.â You said with a sneer, throwing the axe at his head. It flew past the torch, the push of wind blowing it out as the man in front of you fell to the floor. He met the floor with a loud thump, his remains now nothing but another body in the landscape of corpses in the room. You moved to pull the axe out of his head with more aggression than needed before leaving. His words irritated you to no end, the man was nothing but an idle fool who made the choice of inaction. Never once did he try to stop his fellow suitors from tormenting Telemachus, never once has he tried to lessen all the resources they waste, never once did he leave when Telemachus ordered them. None of them did.
You let out a sigh as you walked through the hallways. Where exactly was Telemachus? And where was Odysseus? They most likely passed through this area already, if the bodies everywhere said anything. The father son duo was probably closer to the courtyards of the palace outside where the suitors must have fled towards. Either that or the pack of meatheads ran towards their weapon supply. You guessed it was the latter and promptly made your way through the familiar halls, passing by familiar faces on the floor that will never be missed. Surprisingly enough you couldnât find any signs of struggle during battle. Nothing but the light of torches fallen on the floor could light up the scene, the moon and stars never daring to gaze upon the massacre. Bodies upon bodies were piled up in a gruesome display of vengeance with a vile stench that made your nose wrinkle in disgust, and yet each and every one of them only had an arrow to the head or chest to blame for their demise. No bruising nor cuts of a blade, only a lone arrow on each suitor. It was only after a long time of walking did the bodies slowly lessen in numbers, but still remained ever present. A silent reminder of the ruthless monster that lurked in these dark halls.
Your head turned towards the sound of metal blade against metal blade just to your right. Carefully peeking over the edge, your eyes widened at the sight of Telemachus fighting a suitor on his own. The light of a fallen torch reflected the glint of a knife in the darkness. Your grip on your axe tightened and you swung at the knife wielder without hesitation. The suitorâs screams were drowned by his own blood pouring out of his mouth, your axe lodged into his throat. Looking behind you, a surprised suitor was stabbed from behind, his blood coating the rest of the blade that pierced through him. The sword was pulled out and the suitor fell to the floor, revealing Telemachus behind him. â[name]? What are you doing here?â He asked as he looked around as if worried anyone might be eavesdropping. âDid you really think word of your suitor hunt wouldnât get out? Tele, the entire palace could hear the screams of terror.â You replied as you rested your axe on your shoulder. âOf course I didnât think weâd be able to hide a mass genocide! What Iâm asking is why you came here after learning about a giant fight-â He paused mid sentence, and you didnât need to see his face to know he was staring at you with the most unimpressed expression youâll ever see. You barely tried to hide your amused snickering as he rolled his eyes at you. âYou know what? I retract my statement. The fight was all the reason you needed to come here, wasnât it.â It was less of a question and more of a statement.
âActually, not really. At least, it wasnât the only reason.â You said you stared directly into his eyes that reflected the ever dancing light of the torch. The flame flickered, going from bright to dark and back within seconds. You could barely see Telemachus, but you poured every bit of attention you had into listening to Telemachus go from unamused to curious. âReally? Then what was it?â He asked as you smiled. âIâm looking right at it.â Telemachus looked around once more, but this time to find what you were staring directly at rather than look for hidden dangers. âWha? But the only thing youâre looking at is⌠Oh.â You didnât even try to hide your amusement this time, bursting out into a fit of howling laughter at his flushed face. âReally? Do you have to tease me even in the middle of battle?â You shoved your face right in front of his, mere inches away. âYeah, cause you havenât told me to stop yet.â
âEuryalus, he locked the rest of our weapons in one of the rooms! These are the only ones we have, none of us could open it up-â Telemachus looked towards the group of new suitors, who immediately drew their weapons at the sight of the both of you. âShit.â You cursed under your breath, you were kinda having a moment here. With much annoyance your stance changed from relaxed and playful with your axe on your shoulder, to a defensive battle stance with your weapon at the ready. Even with Telemachus, you could only handle so many suitors. âHey Tele, remember what I told you about hunting wild hogs?â You asked as he looked at you incredulously. âAim for the area around the shoulder or the head? [name], what does this have to do with anything-â You cut him off with a mischievous grin barely lit by the torch. âExactly. I suggest you aim for the chest since youâre too short for their heads.â You could practically see the gears turning in his head before he opened his mouth in a baffled offense.
You charged forwards to the four suitors, stepping on the torch and putting it out as you ran. You moved to the side of the group and swung your axe at the outermost member. He blocked your axe, and at the same time you heard the clash of metal from the other side of the group. You could barely see anything, but you recognized the silhouette of Telemachus fighting off the other two suitors. Another suitor came up from behind the one in front of you to aim his sword at your side. You pushed the sword blocking your axe downwards to block the other suitorâs sword, before pushing both of them off. Spinning around, you hit the head of the first suitor you attacked with your axe, killing them. The sight of another sword in the corner of your eye made your breath hitch, it was far too close for you to move away and turn around to block. You still tried to pull up your axe to block it, and a spray of blood passed by your view. By the time you were fully turned around to face your attacker, they were clutching their hand in pain. Or more like their lack of one. In front of you stood Telemachus, sword in hand as he charged forward, stabbing the suitor in their chest while they were writhing in pain. â[name], what did I say about minding your surroundings!â Telemachus said concerned as the suitor died and joined the rest of them on the floor. âHey, it turned out okay in the end. Heâs dead and Iâm alive, Iâll be fine-â
A large thud behind you made you jump, and you slowly turned around with your axe held up. âYou know, my son is right. If neither of us were here, youâd be another body on the floor.â You blinked and stared at the man before you. âFather!â Telemachus gasped from behind you. Oh. OH. âOdysseus?â You asked bewildered. He was a lot shorter than you expected. Now you know why Telemachus was shorter than all the men his age and you while his mother still towered over everyone in the room. He nodded with a gentle smile. âAnd youâre the [name] my son has so fondly told me about.â He said as he drew back his bow. You looked back at Telemachus and you both made eye contact, before you looked at Odysseus. âWait, what? He talks about me? Wait, what did he say? Tele, you better not have told your father about the sand incident.â You heard him stifle a small chuckle, and you whipped around to gasp at him with all the exasperation you could manage. âYou did not!â
âI did.â He said unapologetically. You stared at him in betrayal, jaw dropped before turning back to Odysseus. âHey, your majesty, did you know that before I got with your son he trained Argos to run at me so he could pretend like he accidentally let him loose to make an opportunity to talk with mMMFFF!â Telemachus slapped his hand onto your mouth as you struggled against his arm. âI did not do that, sheâs lying.â He said indignantly as Odysseus stared at the two of you amused. You shoved at Telemachusâs wrist while you both physically struggled against each other. You saw him eyeing your hand on his wrist and you looked at him sternly. âDonât you even dare- OW!â The madlad bit your hand and you pulled away from him, your bodies detaching from one another. âYou menace.â You said as he shoved his face into yours, mere inches away like you were mere moments ago. For a moment, he just stared at you and you stared back at him. It was like all the emotional intensity that was interrupted before was returning full force, a shameless rush of affection like a raging river. Youâve always been told by Penelope that there were moments between her and Odysseus that felt like time stopped, when they looked into their eyes and saw love for eternity in each other. But right now, you felt nothing close to that. It was like time was rushing past you with no end, quick and intense. Every small detail blurred together into Telemachus, and in his eyes you saw the life you have right now.
âTelemachus, I know little to nothing about you, and even less about [name], but I see the same love I have for your mother in you, and I see the same love Penelope has for me in [name].â You both stared at him, hands that had intertwined subconsciously squeezing tightly. Telemachus looked over to you, and once again you saw not just your life in his eyes, but yours and his. âI approve of this one.â Your lover blinked in sync with you. âBesides, werenât you the one who said how much you loved it when she stood up for you before you got the courage to fight Antinous?â Telemachus stared at his father and after a beat of silence, screeched with embarrassment. âFATHER, DONâT-â You looked at Odysseus with a devious grin, and began to explain every single Argos incident while Telemachus hid his face in your neck.
#epic the musical#epic the musical x reader#reader insert#x reader#reader x character#telemachus x reader#telemachus#ask blog#telemachus of ithaca#odyssey#the odyssey#odysseus#penelope of ithaca#odypen#penelope#odysseus of ithaca#antinous#epic telemachus#telemachus epic the musical#reader fic#fem reader#epic odysseus#I finished this so late in the night hhhh#sorry if the end feels rushed#thats why
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Guys you don't understand how much I love these two. (Oh yeah, and Finn's there too)
Glisten: Awww~ Shrimpo, you remembered Shrimpo: B*tch I'm in LOVE with you, of course I REMEMBERED! Glisten: What!? Wait really?? This is very sudden wow! (You said you were straight?) Shrimpo: AAAAAAAAAA
Finn: (yapping) Shrimpo and Glisten: SHUT THE F*CK UP, FINN!! Shrimpo and Glisten: ... Shrimpo and Glisten: (kissing)
The first comic takes place before the two started dating. Shrimpo is really really really bad at expressing emotions other than anger and frustration, so anytime he tries to express anything, he just blurts out his feelings without thinking. Then he gets second-hand embarrassment lol. Glisten was pretty aware that Shrimpo liked him before, but he's pretending to be surprised to make Shrimpo "feel better" (also to mildly embarrass him lol).
Also, I think that Shrimpo and Glisten bonding over hating Finn is very based and true. They need that autistic man to SHUT UP/silly
I think Shrimpo and Finn are very cousin coded. Not close enough to be siblings but definitely got some familial genes going on imo (plz don't shoot me Shrimpbowl shippersđđđ) Doesn't stop Shrimpo from being violent towards Finn tho, and Finn does nothing to deter it lol (he finds it funny). Also, Glisten throws no punches bc he doesn't want to get his hands dirty.
Finn: Sooooo?? How was the daaaate~ Finn: No need to be such a clam about it! Shrimpo: I'M SO KILLING YOU!
The second image takes place the day after this post lol. Shrimpo is recovering from a hangover covered in lipstick kisses and super conflicting emotions and Finn is NOT helping.
On the other end, I've been thinking about Shimmer a lot lol. So here is a doodle of her with her "sister aunt" Toodles, and Pebbles.
They all get along super well. In this pic, Toodles is like 12ish and Shimmer is 4 (but her weird biology made her age up to like 7 here). Pebble is pebble, that's all you need to know.
Also, I was in a horror-ish mood earlier so here are some Twisteds <33 (below cut cuz kinda scary):
I love you angst comfort. My sib pointed out while playing one day that Shrimpo looked traumatized as a Twisted, which like, fair, but it make me think.
Glisten: "They say you are not here anymore. But I think you are."
I had this silly idea that Twisted Shrimpo was infected by Dandy personally, and that whole conflict got Shrimpo's lower jaw ripped off. He is very violent and volatile, and very hard to calm down. But, when he runs into a twisting Glisten alone and scared, he comforts him (to the best of his ability).
Since Glisten is still able to be somewhat conscious, he realizes that the Twisteds are actually not completely gone like he originally thought, and it helps him keep his sanity longer, hoping for a way out for everyone.
Willpower is a crazy thing.
On the complete opposite note, I love you horrifying freak of ichor child.
Since Shimmer was made from the ichor itself with no sort of skeleton or solid foundation, her condition is very unstable. And the problem is that her body is affected by her emotions. On a bad day, she can suffer from lots of pain and her body literally melting away. That's when she hides out and waits for her body to stabilize again.
When she completely twists, her body completely falls apart, becoming a puddle of ichor on the ground. If she was an encounterable twisted, she would work like Sprout's puddle root things, but easier to maneuver around and avoid. Also, her antenna glow.
Mini yap session aside, I think I cooked on the art lol.
Anyways, the og images lol:
Have a good one pookies!
#inside i have two wolves#one is obsessed with shipping and cutesy stuff#the other is obsessed with horror#dandy's world#dandy's world fanart#dandy's world oc#dandy's world ships#dandy's world glisten#dandy's world shrimpo#dandy's world finn#dandy's world pebble#dandy's world toodles#dandy's world roblox#shrimpo x glisten#glisten x shrimpo#roblox#glisten the mirror#shrimpo the shrimp#finn the fishbowl#toodles the eight ball#pebble#dw glisten#dw shrimpo#dw toodles#dw pebble#dw finn#doodles#horror#katiekatdragon27
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Primarchs + Daughters
My perception of how each Primarch would behave when nosediving into parenthood if they had daughters. Enjoy!
I wanna personally thank @moodymisty because a great deal of their works inspired this piece.
Part 1
Lion Elâjonson
The embodiment of 'tough love' made man. Having a daughter doesnât do much to soften this guy⌠or at least thatâs what others believe. The Dark Angels Legion are probably the only ones aware of the small gestures the Primarch often gives to his little girl in the safety that privacy offers. Where Lion lacks words of compassionate and parental love, he appropriately makes up for it with actions. He isnât one to go over the top and prefers to give modest gifts to his daughter as the last thing the man wants is to raise a spoiled brat. Father-daughter bonding time can be summarized with strenuous training using the sword. This man will not let his precious Princess go through life without learning how to protect herself, even if he has made an oath to forever shield her too.
Fulgrim
The complete antithesis of Lion. Where this man views the Emperor as the perfection anyone should strive to reach, his beautiful daughter comes close to the second place in fulfilling that ideal. Thereâs a big fat chance that he teared up a little when his little gem called him Papa for the first time, but managed to wear his ever unshakable mask because he absolutely refuses to break character even in private. Has the mistaken notion that his baby is a blank canvas ready to be painted to its fullest potential; aka, molding her to what HE wants and expects of her. Fulgrim probably spoils her rotten but only through conditions that she must follow, as the Primarch understands the importance of fighting and earning for what you wish to obtain. He makes sure that any of his gene-sons are in her company as he refuses to let even a single scratch happen to his little girl. Honestly, a grown-up version of Fulgrimâs child has the chances to go both opposites of the spectrum with no in betweens: A shy aristocratic lady who is unable to speak her own mind or a completely haughty, sharp and manipulative noble woman. Too much to unpack there, yo.
Perturabo
(Slaps this bastard's head loudly) This bad boy can fit so much family trauma in it! Okay no but seriously, thereâs a good reason why so many people agree that this bitch has a thing for gilded cages and all the fucked up poetry that comes with it. The good olâ classic Greek tragedy of Medea. Perturabo may have big and insane expectations for his gene-sons but when it comes to having a daughter? The apple of his eyes. The sunshine of his life. For this Primarch, his little princess is the only living thing in the entire universe that loves him genuinely and unconditionally, making his love the equivalent of a child crushing a bird between his hands. While still easy to anger and with a resting-bitch face, he is incredibly tame and careful with his girl; always making sure that she is well versed in all kinds of science and engineering that could easily label her as a genius (but we all know how stressful can be to try and live up to big expectations). Most of his Legion finds the child either an annoyance or donât even care enough beyond the factual point of her being the child of their mighty Primarch, beyond that? This poor girl is probably the loneliest child to ever grace the world. Remember that I referred to this like the Tragedy of Medea? YeahâŚ
Jaghatai Khan
Probably one of the few best papa-tier out there. This man will see his little daughter and think the only thing a good parent should do: To love and guide. Heâll be not afraid to say âI love youâ to his baby girl no matter where they are, but heâll know when to be stern and wise so she grows to be a fine and humble woman. Honestly, this guy would learn how to make a sling just for the single purpose of having his precious princess close while also being excited to teach her how to ride on a horse like he did in his childhood. The thing that makes this dude the best in this list is that if his daughter ever expresses to follow a different path in life like becoming a remembrancer or anything that doesnât involve the Imperium, this Chad of a man will look deep into her eyes and tell her that heâll support her no matter what. The only thing he asks is that she stays in contact as heâll miss her terribly. Kudos to him, fr.
Leman Russ
Another one for the âtough loveâ guys list, yo! On his defense! Hear me out⌠in his defense, this guy was literally raised first by Fenrisian wolves before even knowing what a proper bath entailed, so of course heâll sometimes be a bit too much on his poor little baby girl. Roughhousing was his best first approach to teach her how to fight, trying to make his little pup have some proper backbone worthy of being called the child of a Primarch. Sometimes heâll get carried away (either with words or actions) and is in those moments when Leman would learn what genuine and heavy guilt feels like; a very alien emotion for someone as brutal and fierce as he is. Thereâs no worse feeling than knowing that you are the reason behind your daughterâs tears. No one would ever say it out loud, but the way this giant of a man apologizes is by slowly and silently hugging his little girl while pouting until she hugs him back. He may suck at expressing verbally his love towards his baby, but actions are his best way to communicate and this is something his daughter eventually learns and accepts from him. Forgot to add that the entire Space Wolves Legion are not only suffocatingly protective of their Primarchâs child, but everyone takes turns when she asks them for piggy-rides or let her braid their hair.
Rogal Dorn
I donât wanna be too mean to this poor man but lord have some mercy, trying to squeeze any emotion that doesnât range to watching paint dry from this damn guy is already a miracle on its own. Heâs probably the kind of dude thatâll leave his poor daughter in the care of his astartes and serfs while he works. Workaholic in bold, yo. It literally will take watching his poor little princess cry her eyes out for him to attempt some bonding time but man he just sucks at trying not to have a stick up his ass (Again, Iâm not trying to be mean but god this is painful). This is the kind of man, besides Guilliman, that will search high and low for some paternity books to help him. At the end this father-daughter relationship can be salvageable by having a heart to heart between them both and even then, is the poor girl the one that gives more than she receives. Honestly, any daughter from Dorn has the patience of a saint. Besides this Primarch's ineptitude to properly communicate his feelings, everything else doesnât change the fact that he loves his little princess and will do anything to make her as happy as possible so he gets some brownie points for the try.
I'll later write the second and third part of this, I swear <333
#warhammer 40k#warhammer 40000#wh40k#primarchs#lion el'jonson#fulgrim#perturabo#jaghatai khan#leman russ#rogal dorn#fatherhood#very very slightly implied primarch x reader#if you squint#implied child negligence#implied yandere perturabo
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Surety of Ghos-ti
Requested Here!
Pairing: Dominique Luca x pregnant!fem!reader
Summary: You are held hostage, and Luca and his team have to save you and your baby.
Warnings: angst, violence, threats of homicide, comfort/fluff
Word Count: 2.8k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List
âHondo!â Luca calls as he enters SWAT HQ.
Hondo stands immediately, his eyes wide as he asks, âSheâs in labor?â
âNo, man, and she wonât be for a while,â Luca replies with a smile. âI thought I was supposed to be the nervous, jumpy one.â
âGive it a few more weeks,â Deacon interjects. âIt gets easier after the first one, though.â
âWe ainât all like you, Deac,â Hondo teases. âWhat do ya need, Luca?â
â50 Squadâs serving a felony warrant with the Marshals in Santa Clarita, so Hicks wants us to be ready to pick up the slack.â
âThey better not go to Magic Mountain without me,â Street grumbles from the other side of the room.
âPriorities, Street,â Deacon reminds him.
âYeah, theyâre sorted.â
âI have to be at the party supply store before they close at 9,â Chris says. âAs long as our shift ends when itâs supposed to, I can let Rocker slide this one time.â
âYou donât have to do that,â Luca responds.
Chris turns to stare at Luca, and after a moment, he concedes and raises his hands. The team decided to throw you a baby shower, besides the one you had for friends and family, because you are part of 20 Squad, and youâve gained another family. Luca expected Annie to be the one who took the reins of the shower. He has seen how well you and Chris get along, so he shouldnât be surprised by her insistence on making the party perfect.
âWhen does she learn the gender?â Street asks. âIf itâs a boy, Streeter has a nice ring to it.â
âTheyâre not going to set the kid up for failure before birth, my man,â Hondo calls.
âHer appointment was supposed to be today, but the doctor had to reschedule,â Luca answers. âSheâs not sure she wants to know, though.â
âChris works for a niece or nephew,â Chris points out.
Luca laughs, then remembers that Hicks asked him to review a new strategy with Hondo and, despite his preference to continue discussing you, he focuses on work.
Los Angeles has every kind of store you could ever need, but when a new handmade baby goods store opens a few miles from your place, you know you must visit. Luca is at work, youâve done everything Chris allowed you to for the upcoming baby shower, and even though youâre 20 weeks pregnant, youâre restless. So, you gather your phone, wallet, and keys, then lock your front door and begin the short drive to the store.
The pastel blue façade welcomes you after you park, and you run your hand under your growing bump as you enter the store. A handwritten âCash Only; Sorry!â sign is displayed on the counter, and you mentally thank yourself for asking Luca to take you to the bank over the weekend. Heâs the best part of your life, the love of your life, and his insistence to help you prepare before giving birth has been a godsend.
âHi!â a smiling employee calls. âWelcome in, let me know if you need anything!â
âHello,â you reply. âThank you. Iâm just looking for now.â
âAwesome! Thereâs so much cute stuff in here, take your time.â
You smile, then trail your eyes around the store. Itâs larger than it looked from the outside, and you decide to start in the back corner and work toward the front of the store. Thereâs a small cart return area at the front of the store, likely from the buildingâs past resident, now blocked off with a sign that says, âWe got you, mamas. If youâre shopping alone and need assistance, let an employee know and weâll keep your stuff behind the counter so you can relax and focus on finding the perfect items.â
As you reach the back of the store, thereâs a corner filled with onesies and toes relating to parentsâ jobs. A pair of pajamas catches your eye, embroidered with a police van that reminds you of Black Betty and âRelax, my dad is a police officer.â You lay it over your arm, then laugh at the one behind it. With both secured, you continue walking around the store. The employee from earlier checks in with you as you walk past and graciously offers to take the items from your arms and hold them behind the counter for you.
âThank you,â you call as she uses a dry-erase marker to write your name on a plastic bin beneath the register.
âOf course!â she replies.
She waves to another employee, returning from somewhere, and you continue shopping. You look at some BPA-free bottles and specialty pacifiers rather than looking up when the bell over the door rings.
âWelcome in.â
You hear the strain in the cashierâs voice and shift your attention quickly, reaching for your phone when you see a man dressed in all black blocking the doorway. He puts his gloved hand against his hip as one of the women places her hand against the edge of the counter, her fingers underneath the lip. You assume she presses a panic button and stay behind a shelf as you click your screen to find Lucaâs contact.
âEmpty the register,â the man demands.
âOkay, okay,â one of the women mutters, opening the register and dumping a few bills and loose coins onto the counter.
âWhereâs the rest of it?â
âThatâs all. We just took most of it to the bank, we only have enough to make change.â
âOpen the safe!â
âDonât have one.â
The man jerks his head to the side quickly, then pulls a black gun from his waistband. You forget about texting Luca and press the button to call him instead. The man pulls his black cap off, running his fingers through his hair. He turns toward you after his arm falls out of his peripheral view, suddenly aware of your presence.
âWhat are you doing over there?â he yells, aiming the gun at you.
You raise your hands quickly, but not before setting your phone behind a bottle on the shelf and praying Luca answers. âI was just shopping,â you answer as you step away from the shelf.
âGive me your money, too!â
You swallow as you pull your wallet out, then hand over the cash you have. The man holds the gun on you with one hand as he counts the money with the other. He sighs, then backs toward the door. He twists the lock until it clicks and flips the sign on the door to say Closed.
âThis isnât enough,â he says as if heâs having a normal conversation and not threatening lives over less than $500. âWhat are we going to do about that?â
âWhat about a bottle warmer?â Street asks, scrolling through a baby registry on his phone.
âGot one,â Luca answers without looking up. âI told her to make her own registry.â
âTowel warmer for Mom?â
âI bought her one,â Hicks interjects. When the team turns toward him, he shrugs and says, âNew moms need comfort and new things, too.â
Luca smiles and shakes his head as his phone begins ringing. âSpeaking of new moms,â he murmurs before answering the phone. Luca doesnât hear anything, so he repeats your name several times. Just before he hangs up, he hears muffled speech.
âWhatâs up?â Tan asks, noticing the concern on Lucaâs face.
Luca gestures for him to be quiet, places his phone on speaker, and turns it up.
âI was just shopping,â you say, your voice growing quieter like youâre stepping away from the phone.
âGive me your money, too!â a man yells.
Hondo reaches across Lucaâs chest and mutes the microphone to ask, âWhere is she?â
Keeping the phone call connected, Luca navigates to your contact and reads your current location so Street can type it into the computer.
âHome Grown Baby, itâs a handmade baby goods store,â Street says. âThe silent alarm was activated less than a minute ago.â
âMaybe you should put the gun down,â another woman says. âWe can help you.â
Someone screams, and you plead, âStop, stop.â
Hicks raises his own phone to his ear, whispering hurried commands. âI called off local PD. Thatâs a hostage situation. Luca, if you need to sit this out-â
âIâm good,â Luca assures the team. âLetâs do this.â
âLuca,â Deacon calls, stopping him on the way to Black Betty. âYour girl, your unborn child⌠heâs going to try to use them as insurance, a surety that things stay in his control. We need to you think with her if this is going to work.â
âYeah, for sure,â Luca answers, letting his training override his emotions. At least until he gets to the store.
You hold a hand against your stomach as you sit beside the employees, tucked under the front of the counter as the armed man paces before you. Glancing over, you see that the woman who returned from the bank, Elizabeth, is looking better. He hit her over the head with his gun, but her color is returning, and the blood on her temple is drying.
âIs-" the other woman, Jane, begins. She stops when the man turns toward you. When he turns away again, she whispers, âAre you really with a cop?â
You nod once and squeeze her hand in a silent promise that your cop, your love, your Luca, will get everyone out of this building alive.
âGuns blazing,â Hondo suggests.
âI doubt heâll like that,â Deacon argues. âHe clearly wants to be in control based on the phone call.â
âThey havenât spoken since he made them sit,â Street adds, Lucaâs phone pressed to his ear. âNot loud enough to hear at least.â
âWe canât risk spooking him into hurting anyone,â Luca agrees. âTry hostage recovery, talk him down, then go from there?â
âThirty seconds,â Tan alerts from the driverâs seat. âLights and sirens?â
âLights only,â Hondo answers. âPark right outside the door, I want him to see us.â
Hondo takes a deep breath, then stops. He passes the phone to Deacon and nods once. Deacon dials the store number and waits for an answer as he trades places with Street to sit in the front.
âHello,â he says after a moment. âIâm Sergeant Deacon Kay with LAPD SWAT. Who am I speaking to?â
âHowâd you know I was here?â the man demands, in stereo for Street, listening to Lucaâs phone and Deaconâs call.
âItâs a busy parking lot, someone got suspicious,â Deacon says carefully. âIs there something we should be worried about?â
âYeah, there is!â
âWhatâs going on, sir?â
âI need money! She took everything from me, I canât even see my kid and now Iâm going to lose my apartment.â
Hondo holds up his left hand and taps his empty ring finger. Deacon nods, then takes a dramatic breath.
âI get that,â he replies. âMy ex took all three of our kids, told the courts I would neglect them because of my hours as a cop. They- women take and take.â
âI need $1,200 but thereâs only $300 here!â
âListen, you come out, and Iâll help you with a plan to get the other 9.â
âNo, no, I walk out there, I lose it all anyway. That isnât how Iâm ending this.â
âThe women in that store didnât do anything wrong, Mr.?â
âKirkfield,â the man says quietly. âKeith.â
âAlright, Keith, my nameâs David. I can help you, but not until I know the other people inside are safe.â
âI got a cousin whoâs in jail for assault and battery, he called this part ghos-ti, you know what this is, David?â
âNo, I donât.â
âItâs like the root for our word hostage. Iâve got three ladies in here unwilling to cough up the cash I need.â He raises his voice, likely so you and the employees can hear, and adds, âIf theyâd listened, Iâd be gone already!â
âKeith,â Deacon begins.
âNo, Iâm thinking you donât get it either. So, remember next time you call without my money that ghos-ti also sounds a lot like a dead baby.â
Lucaâs eyes widen as he grips the non-lethal gun across his chest. Hondo informs them they canât get the money quickly, and Street shakes his head to communicate that Keith isnât talking.
Suddenly, Deaconâs phone rings again.
âChange of plans, Sergeant,â Keith says. âTen minutes, or I start shooting.â
âThat wonât-â
The line beeps, and Luca tightens his jaw as Hondo begins brainstorming a plan to get inside.
You hold your hand against your mouth, growing nauseous from the stress of your situation, pregnancy hormones, and hunger. Itâs been eight minutes since Keith gave Deacon ten minutes, and you know that the team is working to get inside if theyâre not already.
âWhat are you doing?â Keith asks. âMove your hand.â
âIâm getting sick,â you explain before pressing your lips together.
âSheâs pregnant, her blood pressure is probably too high or her sugarâs dropping,â Jane says. âI have snacks in my bag behind the counter, please just let me-â
Keith fires one shot into the wall, and you drop your head to cover your ears, fighting the rolling sensation in your stomach.
âHold,â Hondo commands after the shot. âStreet?â
âHe-â Street looks toward Luca. âHe was talking to her, and one of the women asked to get her a snack. No oneâs talking.â
âStay here,â Hondo tells Luca.
âAbsolutely not,â Luca argues. âWeâre wasting time, Hondo.â
Lucaâs chest tightens; he feels like taking a full breath would kill him, and this time, he canât rely on his training. He heard the shot but no screaming, so he has no idea what they are about to walk into. Maybe Keith shot on accident, or maybe thereâs a bloodbath. Regardless, youâre inside, and he will not sit on the sidelines.
They move silently through the back room of the store, pausing against a wooden door separating them from the showroom.
âIâll give you my credit card, whatever you want, just please stop,â one of the women pleads through tears. Street thinks itâs Elizabeth, and as they review the thermal scan of the room, he tries to find where your phone could be.
âHeâs pacing,â Tan says quietly.
âWhen he turns toward the front again, weâre breaching,â Hondo decides. âDonât give him a chance to get another shot off, Chris.â
âI wonât give him a chance to pucker,â she mumbles as she moves into position.
Tan watches the image, raising his fingers to countdown from three. Hondo pulls the door open, and Chris shoots Keithâs upper leg before he even turns all the way around. Luca calls your name, rushing toward the counter as his team finishes their job. When he sees you, your arms wrapped protectively around your bump, he drops to his knees and pulls you against his chest.
âHeâs cute,â the woman beside you â bloody woman Luca notices after â whispers.
You nod against Luca, carefully moving your arms to hug him. As you thank him repeatedly for coming, Chris and Tan haul Keith to his feet and take him toward an approaching patrol car.
âYou hid this well,â Street applauds as he extends his phone toward you. âThat microphone is nice, I should get one.â
âPriorities, Street!â Deacon yells from the back of the store.
âThank you for coming,â you tell Street. âI need to pay for my stuff and then- I actually need to get up first.â
Luca holds your arms carefully, and Street lays a hand on your back as you stand. Once youâre on your feet again, Luca wraps his arm around your waist.
âThese are so on the house,â Elizabeth tells you, passing two bags over the counter. âIâm going to the hospital with Jane but thank you for everything.â
âThank you,â Luca tells her, pulling the bags to his side. âNow, weâre going home.â
You smile and lean tiredly against Luca. As he helps you into the passenger seat of your car, Street runs over and hugs you. Luca shoves him away from the back door before sitting in the driverâs seat and sighing.
âIâm so glad youâre okay,â he tells you, holding your hand against his thigh. âI love you.â
âI love you,â you reply.
âIsnât it cute?â you ask, spreading the police van onesie over the table before you.
âNot cute enough to risk you getting shot at,â Luca mumbles against your temple. âBut very cute.â
âThen youâll really like this one.â
You pass the folded cloth to Luca, leaning harder against his side. He unfolds the onesie, reads it, and laughs. The sound feels like home, and as you curl up beside Luca, you know you and your baby will always be safe.
âProof my mom loves policemen,â Luca says after a few minutes. âThatâs funny.â
âAnd true.â
âProve it,â he requests, smiling as his lips brush over yours.
#dominique luca x fem!reader#dominique luca x reader#dominique luca fic#dominique luca#luca x reader#swat imagine#swat fic#swat x reader#swat cbs#hanna writesâŻ#fem!reader#requests#cw pregnancy
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oh pleaaaase i think this would hit!
Can you pretty please do-about the prompt game-
au!12 neighbors not really neighbors (like, funnily they meet ever single time at the same local 7eleven or supermarket idk, they live on the same block, trope 9, first 49 with 66 and then 28,15 last 33 (66 and all last three nsfw) with Nam or Jin whoever you like. Could you pls add reader is like short height? THANK YOUUUUU take care xx
I hope this is what you were looking for and you like it!
< The Cookie Jar >
Warnings: Swearing, Smut
Neighbors, Stranger to Lovers
#49 âI need some assistance here.â
#66 âThatâs illegal.â
#28 âWe canât do that here!â
#15 âWell fine just this once.â
#33 âOh kittenâŚyouâve really never done this before?â
*******************************************************
âEggs, flour, butterâŚeggs, flour, butterâŚeggs, flour, butter.â
You were repeating this to yourself over and over hoping that you wouldnât forget anything. It was late and you were exhausted and just wanted to get home to have some dinner and relax, but you were required to be an adult first and get some groceries since it was your turn to bring cookies for your jobs weekly cookie jar. It was a dumb thing that management came up with to try and boost morale because that made more sense to them than just giving everyone a raise or some extra time off. Either way it was mandatory and not something you could get out of without ending up in a meeting with HR.
Normally you would just buy premade cookies but your boss informed you that it wasnât fair to the others that actually took the time to make the cookies homemade so you had to stop.
You werenât in any mood to play Betty Crocker so you were making a simple Snickerdoodle that only needed a few ingredients and you hoped you could just remember all of them before you walked out of the store.
Groaning when you saw the price of the butter you stared at your options hoping to find something on sale or with a coupon.
âThis is a really good brand.â, a deep voice spoke slightly startling you. The man was pointing at a random box of butter.
âIs it?â, you chuckled, âI have to make cookies for work, but didnât expect butter to cost me to promise my first born child.â
The man laughed, giving you the first glimpse of his beautiful smile with dimples included.
âYeah Iâm not much of a baker myself, but Iâve heard my mom complain quite a bit about how the prices are insane.â
âGlad Iâm not the only one then.â, you laughed.
He reached down and grabbed one of the cartons of butter and handed it to you.â, She uses this one and I can confirm she makes the best cookies every time.â
You placed the carton in your cart., âI meanâŚI think you might be a little biased but Iâll take your word for it.â He chuckled and gave you a smile before walking away towards the registers. You spent the rest of the evening thinking about the handsome stranger whose name you didnât even know.
âStupid job, stupid cookies, stupid boss, stupid Hobi, stupid stupid stupid.â, you grumbled as you picked up a shopping basket. It was once again your turn to bring cookies for the dreaded cookie jar. Thanks to your coworker Hobi abruptly quitting it was also your turn a week sooner than you had planned. Luckily you had most of the ingredients from last time still sitting in your pantry. All you needed were chocolate chips and sugar.
After you grabbed your two items you decided to stop in the prepared foods section to get something for dinner to make it easier on yourself. You were so deep in thought trying to decide between the sesame noodles or the chicken teriyaki that you didnât even notice someone standing next to you until they spoke, âGet the sesame noodles. The teriyaki tastes weird.â
You looked up to see the same guy from a few weeks ago walking past you, dimples once again on display. By the time your brain registered what happened and that you should go after him to finally get his name he was already walking out of the store. You grabbed the noodles and headed for the exit so you could finally go home to sulk while you baked some chocolate chip cookies.
You actually enjoyed baking when it was on your own terms and you didnât have to hear the office go on and on about how amazing the cookies that Jin brought are, because his wife owns a bakery so OF COURSE theyâre going to be amazing.
So when your best friend asked you make her favorite chocolate cake and come over with a tub of ice cream after her boyfriend dumped her, you didnât even think twice.
The cake was sliding from side to side and the ice cream was already melting and you regretted grabbing those two bottles of wine because they were heavier than you thought so you were very glad that your friend lives just a three minute walk down the street from you.
You were trying to punch in the code to unlock the door when you heard a very familiar voice making your heart skip a beat.
âLooks like youâve upgraded from cookies to cake huh?â
You were standing speechless staring at the beautiful man you somehow keep running into.
Just then your friend opened the door hearing the voices outside, âThere you are! Oh hey Joonie! Hi Yoongs and Kook.â
It wasnât until then did you realize there were two other guys standing off to the side and they were almost as handsome as âJoonieâ. It made you question what they were putting in the water at this apartment complex.
âJoonie?â, you questioned with a brow raise.
He chuckled, âYeah sorry about that. Weâve never been introduced. Iâm Namjoon and those are my roommates Yoongi and Jungkook.â
You gave a small wave before turning your attention back to Namjoon so you could introduce yourself, âY/N.â
Somehow or another you and your friend were invited over to Namjoonâs for pizza and drinks. It was all kind of a blur and you were too focused on finally getting to know the guy youâve been crushing on for a while.
At some point the wine had become too much so you went to stand out on the balcony and get some fresh air. After a little while you started to sober up and feel much better. The door slid open and out came Namjoon. He smiled handing you a soft blanket and took a seat next to you. It seemed like he was sobering up at well.
âIâm sorry I never properly introduced myself. It was like my brain melted every time I saw you.â, he chuckled. âItâs okay. My brain didnât seem to want to function either.â
A slight breeze moved through the air causing you to shiver. Namjoon moved a little closer wrapping his arm around you to help shield you from the wind.
You took the time to look him over but it was like he had the same idea as he was already staring at you and beginning to lean in which you reciprocated.
One kiss turned into two turned into soft moans and hands exploring each others body.
âDo you want to take this further?â, he asked pulling away.
You did. You figured you could make it to your place in less than five minutes or maybe even his room, but could hear a karaoke session going on inside so you knew everyone was still awake and would definitely know what was going on if you two walked back to his room. But it was something you were willing to deal with later.
âYeah letâs do it.â, you nodded.
You squealed in surprise when he started unbuttoning your shirt. He struggled with the third button. âI need some assistance here.â, he laughed trying to hide his frustration.
âNamjoon, we canât do that here!â, you exclaimed feeling your entire body flush at the thought.
He surprisingly pouted, âWhy not?â
âWell for one thing, Itâs illegal. Weâre out in the open. People could see us.â
âItâs only illegal if we get caught and whoâs gonna see? Itâs like 2am. Everyone around here is already asleep or not even home.â
He had a point, but you were still unsure. The last thing you needed was a criminal charge on your record, but one look at his growing bulge had your mind going hazy with want.
âLook baby.â, he said in his deep raspy voice that wasnât making it any easier for you to say no. He continued, âY/N I wonât make you do anything youâre not comfortable with so we can end it here or we can go as far as youâd like but if we go in there weâll have to walk past all of them and theyâll definitely know what weâre doing. Itâs up to you.â
You loved that he was so willing to do what made you comfortable. Most guys wouldâve already up and left if you hadnât agreed immediately so the fact that he was still there and talking you through it made you want to give into him even more.
âI justâŚIâve never done anything like this beforeâŚout in the open like this.â, you added the last part quickly to make sure he knew you werenât a virgin, you just werenât normally into public sex.
âThatâs okay. Like I said whatever you want.â, he whispered giving you a comforting smile.
You swallowed thickly before nodding, âWell fine, just this once. Whatâs the worst that could happen?â
His lips connected back to yours as he nodded, âI can deal with that.â
Feeling suddenly brave you climbed over taking a seat on his lap. You continued your movements by placing kisses beginning at his jaw and moving down to his neck and then chest.
He finished undoing the buttons of your shirt before helping you slide the material off. Your bra followed soon after. The cold air immediately causing your nipples to pebble and Namjoon wasted no time attaching his mouth to one. The sensation causing you to moan louder than you had intended. Your hand quickly covered your mouth as Namjoon smirked still sucking at your breast. You continued to move your hips using the friction to help provide some relief.
âY/N.â, Namjoon groaned as you hit a particularly good spot. You thought you had heard a door open causing you to freeze worried that someone had heard the two of you.
âOh kittenâŚyouâve really never done this before?â, he asked after noticing your skin turn reddish and your still unsure movements.
âNo.â, you shook your head feeling a little embarrassed.
âThatâs okay. Thereâs nothing wrong with that. Want me to walk you through it? Will that help ease your nerves?â
You nodded thankful that he was willing to take charge.
âOkay.â, he kissed you, âGet down on your knees in front of me.â
You did as he said. The balcony was small with not a lot of room to navigate but thanks to your shorter height you were able to snuggle in and fit in-front of him with ease. Your hands placed on his thighs as you waited for his next instructions.
âNow undo my beltâŚunzip my pants.â
You did as he said hoping he couldnât see the very slight shake into your hands.
âThatâs it baby girl. Now take my cock out⌠nice and slow.â
The sheer girth shocked you. He was hot and heavy in your hand. Your mouth began to drool, something no other man had ever made you do in this position.
âI knowâŚI know. But you can handle it. Now go ahead and lick.â
You gave a few kitten licks to the tip making sure to lap up the beads of precum as they formed.
âTha-Thatâs it baby. F-Fuck yeah. Go ahead and take it all in.â
He was already such a mess for you that it turned you on to a level you had never been. Your arousal was soaking through your panties to the point it was uncomfortable. You started to run your tongue from his base to tip before moving up again to suck him off like your life depended on it.
The sounds he was making increased your confidence and suddenly the prospect of getting caught didnât seem so scary.
You focused your attention back to Namjoon giving his balls a light squeeze before swirling your tongue around his tip. You jumped a little when you felt his hand reach down and cradle one of your breast giving your nipple a light tug, âMmmm Y/N. Youâre doing so well kitten.â He leaned down and kissed your mouth savoring the taste of himself on your lips before he leaned back and you moved down to continue your bobbing up and down on his length.
Namjoon grabbed a hand full of your hair and pushed you down on his cock making you gag. His head rolled against the chair as he felt his tip hit the back of your throat.
âIsâŚis that okay?â, he asked through gasps. He pulled his hand away feeling guilty for not checking with your first. You didnât want to stop so you took his hand and placed it at the back of your head giving him your silent approval to do it again. He gently, but firmly began to thrust into your mouth as you widened your jaw as much as you could allowing him to use you for his own pleasure, enjoying the way he nearly growled every time he got you to gag on him.
âIâm close Y/N. Fuck Iâm close. Wh-where do you want it?â
âTitsâŚtits.â, you scrambled to say panting and drooling and barely able to form a coherent thought.
You moved your attention back to his length once again licking up and down before wrapping your mouth around him determined to bring him to his orgasm. He was close. You could feel his thighs tensing under your hands. A few beads of sweat were running down his forehead even though the weather was cool. His thrusts into your mouth became more and more erratic.
He said your name in a long drawn out moan before swiftly moving you off of him and rapidly jerking himself off with his right hand as his left hand came down to squeeze your breast.
âO-Okay. Iâm coming.â, he gritted at his body began to shake.
You leaned closer squeezing your breasts together and watched as the the warm white liquid shot out before collecting in your cleavage.
Namjoon sat back trying to catch his breath before helping you up off of the ground.
âY/N that wasâŚwow that was unbelievable.â, he huffed using the blanket to help clean you up, âIf youâŚuh if you want to lay down Iâd be more than appy to return the favor.â
You smiled at the hint of shyness in his voice because where did the confident, in control man from a few minutes ago go.
âActuallyâŚâ, you shook your head, âIf you wantâŚmy place is just a couple minute walk from here. We could head over there.â After that display you wanted him fully inside of you and you wanted to savor the moment and to take your time. Youâre apartment was the best place for that.
His eyebrows lifted up in surprise before he laughed, âWell I wish I would have known that from the start. We couldâve just went there.â You both giggled at the realization before grabbing your things to walk over to your place completely forgetting that there were a group of people in the living room.
âHey where are you guys going?â, your friends asked when they finally noticed the two of you heading to the door.
You panicked trying to come up with an excuse so that they wouldnât know you two were going to have sex. Looking around the room your eyes caught sight of the half eaten cake on the counter.
âCookies! Namjoon really wants to try some of my cookies so weâre gonna head over to my place so I can get some baked up.â
âThatâs not fair. I want cookies too.â, Jungkook pouted as he waited for the next round of his game to load.
âTheyâre not making cookies you idiot. Theyâre going to have sex.â, Yoongi snorted not even looking up from his phone.
You could feel your body burn up and Namjoon didnât seem to be fairing much better judging by his pink cheeks.
You said goodbye before quickly shuffling Namjoon out the door so they couldnât ask any more questions.
âYou knowâŚcookies actually sound pretty good right now.â, he smiled as you were walking towards your apartment.
âWell luckily for you I have a cookie jar always stocked.â, you laughed opening your door.
He leaned down to capture you in a kiss and pushing you inside, âIs that so? Well then Iâd definitely like to get a taste.â
âYouâre welcome to my cookie jar any time.â
#bts#bts fanfic#bts x reader#namjoon x y/n#namjoon x reader#namjoon fluff#namjoon fanfic#namjoon#kim namjoon#RM#namjoon smut#bts smut#bts namjoon#bts fic
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I Just Wanted To Feed Some Ducks, For Christ's Sake
Wade was just having a @poolverine-week Day 4: First Date with Logan, when out of nowhere, a close-minded jerkwad of a dad decides to harass them! He deals with it in typical Deadpool fashion, but accidentally reveals something about himself along the way. Will Logan still love him? Or will he hate him forever and ever and never, ever talk to him again??
(...Spoiler alert: everything was fine. Psh, I wasn't even worried!! Why'd you think I'd ever be worried...?)
Content Warnings: Homophobia and Transphobia (directed at logan and wade)
Read it under the cut, or on ao3!
This was probably the happiest Deadpool had been in about a decade⌠and all he was doing was throwing corn and peas at ducks at the park!! Oh, but his Logan was there, and today, that made all the difference.Â
A couple days ago, theyâd exchanged their first âI love youâs, kissed each other until their lips got sore, and signed marriage documents. That third one wouldâve only been true if heâd taken Vanessaâs advice at face value, sure- but it was official now!! Deadpool and Wolverine were an item. No queerbaiting, no sending one partner to superhell, and not an ounce of homophobia to be found! This story would be really short, because it was honestly just an excuse for Wade to tell all you guys that he was feeding ducks with Wolvie right now. Wasnât that an adorable thought in these trying times? He sure was glad no one was gonna ruin it, and he could just lean against him and kiss him on the cheek all cutely-
âHey, what the hell-? You canât be doing that around my kids!!â
FUCK.
Okay, Wade, calm down. Maybe thereâs some other weirdo who decided to waltz over here naked or something, and thatâs who heâs talking to?Â
No- no, this guy was walking over to them- and there goes that cute little smile on Loganâs face. Why does this author keep making us deal with shit like thisâŚ? I just wanted to feed some ducks, for Christâs sake!
âI donât remember asking you, dickhead,â Logan grumbled lowly, and Wade would recognize that tone anywhere⌠That was only ever how he spoke if he was seconds away from introducing the claws to someoneâs face!! He needed to humble this Karen-in-training now, before his peanut gave that guy a real reason to get them kicked out!!
The rando who thought he was the king of this public park scoffed at the show of aggression, crossing his arms. âNo, listen to me!! I donât care if you two want to be freaks in private, but I wonât have my children seeing this nonsense-â
âNonsense?? Weâre just feeding some ducks, lady!!â Wade interjected, stepping in between both the fuming, borderline rabid monster man and Logan. âI know that sounds concerning, but that bucketâs full of mixed vegetables! No white bread here, we know thatâs bad for them, so I promise your kids wonât pick up any bad habits-â
âGod, shut up!! You know exactly what Iâm talking about- this gay shitâŚÂ â he hissed, as if âgayâ was a four-letter word or something, while gesturing at them as though they were some spectacle. He really couldâve picked⌠any of their other adventures, if spectacle was what he wanted. He was clearly new here, since Deadpool knew heâd gotten a lot fruitier than this!! But whatever- so much for no homophobia, right?
âOh, come on!! â Wade said, in the middle of a few barks of laughter. â Thatâs the problem you have with us?? In the year of our lord 2024⌠I mean, Iâm a fucking merc, and youâll probably find out whatâs going on with my super-friend here if you keep bugging us,â he quipped, smirking at how fucking pissed Logan looked. Heâd have no problem calming him down later, if you know what I mean⌠;) But he was honestly curious- what lore was behind the stick up this manâs ass?
âPlease, though, tell me how me giving this little guy a little kissy-kissy affects your children, who are currently throwing handfuls of dirt at each other 200 feet away from us where they canât possibly see us,â Wade snarked, scratching Loganâs head as said little guy continued growling threateningly at the man. âEasy now, tigerâŚâ he soothed, to absolutely no avail.
The loving, accepting individual in front of them cringed at the exchange before them, nearly looking ready to spit on Wade. Hey, heâd gladly open his mouth for him!! âYou donât see a single problem with this?? Ignoring how fucked up whatever that guyâs doing to me is-â
âIâll show you fucked up, you sad, bigoted waste of-â
âHey, hey!! Weâre having a civil conversation here, Logan- I am so sorry. Heâs not used to new faces, but Iâve been working on socializing him-â Wade joked again, shutting up as soon as he felt the pricks of his claws brush his hand. They had to keep it cool, blood-free and stuff, because they had to think of the kids, right??
â-I donât want my, or any other kid, going around thinking itâs okay for two men to be treating each other like women! God, you two are sickâŚâ
Immediately, a lightbulb went off in Wadeâs head. Without thinking, he said exactly what was on his mind, because oh my god it sounded so fucking funny to him-Â
âWell⌠how do you know Iâm not a woman?â
Dead silence followed his statement. Logan wasnât even snarling at the dude anymore, and the dude himself was looking at him like Tails did in that one MS Paint comic panel that made him crack up every time he saw it. Fucking brilliant.
ââŚBecause you have a penis?? What kind of question is that, you freak?!â he yelled, and Wade felt Logan tense up in defense once again.
âWoah, woah- and how do you know that?? Get your mind out of my pants- and maybe yourself away from this lake, if you want to keep your⌠everything intact,â he said, tightening the arm he had around his honey badger as he glared daggers into this dickwad. Truthfully, he was this close to just letting him go- itâd be so funny!! Except his kids were supposedly here, soâŚ
âOhh my fucking-â The male Karen- Kyle?- whoever he was- his brain was officially broken. Wade loved to see it!! âJust- get out!! Degenerates like you shouldnât be allowed anywh- HOLY SHIT!!â
Snikt!! Oh, that was one of Wadeâs Top 3 Favorite Sounds Of All Time for sure⌠and the full flash of claws from Logan finally had this dude running away with his nonexistent tail between his legs. âAwh, good boy!!â Wade praised, patting his back affectionately. âYou showed him, didnât you-?â
âJust⌠just shut up,â Logan said, though there wasnât any anger in his voice anymore. Just exhaustion- and confusion? Oh⌠oh no⌠âLetâs just go home, okay, bub?â
Wade furrowed his brows- if they left now, it meant that guy won, didnât it? But then he realized, once again- that âjokeâ about him possibly being a woman? Not nearly as much of a joke, as it turned out!! Did⌠Did Logan even know about stuff like this? Shit, he mightâve said too much in the heat of the moment⌠This could be bad.
âYeah⌠yeah, peanut. Letâs goâŚâ
â
An awkward silence settled over them both as they walked home. Quite unusual, since usually Wade was yapping about anything and everything whenever theyâd go anywhere, even before this little date of theirs!! But he wasnât in the mood for that- he didnât even reach for his hand, when heâd been holding it the entire time while they were walking here. He was too anxious over what Logan must think of him now⌠or maybe he was worried over nothing, and Logan did really just take it as a joke? Wade really hoped that was the caseâŚ
Logan abruptly stopped in his tracks, right before they got to their apartment complex, and turned to face Wade. âWanna tell me what that was about, bub?â he rasped, his tone just accusatory enough to have his blood pressure spiking.
âThat Karen??â Wade said, hoping beyond hope that thatâs what he meant. âOh, just a dipshit in public, and you didnât actually hurt him, so weâre probably fine-â
âNo, Wade. What you said. AboutâŚâ Logan shook his head, tilting his head at Wade with his brow furrowed in confusion⌠and concern? ââŚIâm sorry, I just gotta know if you⌠meant that. If youâd rather I call you⌠are- are you trans or something??â
âŚOkay, that was close , and technically correct- but no, Wade wasnât a woman. Not entirely, anyways... Logan didnât seem disgusted by the idea, so that part of Wadeâs worries was able to shut up!! But⌠god, this was gonna get even more confusing. âI⌠wellâŚâ Wade paused for a second, trying to figure out how to put this.
âNot judging you here, bub. Just⌠trying to make sure, so I didnât accidentally-â
âNo- no!! Iâm not- well⌠okay, youâre gonna have to stay with me here, peanut. Alright?â Wade asked, his gaze flitting away from Logan and suddenly finding the cracks in the sidewalk very, very interesting. The gruff man slowly nodded, looking at him patiently.
âIâm notâŚÂ not a man. But Iâm also⌠not not a woman, either? I might also be some secret third thing, donât worry about it- just, I donât really even care that much!! Trust me!! Itâs justâŚâ Wade nervously chuckled- it seemed so simple in his mind, but Logan had to be so confused right now, right? ââŚYou donât gotta change anything with my name or nothing, itâs just- a long while back, I kinda figured out that⌠my gender, itâs⌠more complex than just a man?? If that makes any senseâŚ?â
Logan was looking at Wade, trying to decipher his words. As soon as Wade saw that face, his heart dropped- he knew that would all be too much too soon⌠Maybe he should just pretend he was joking after all? Itâd be much easier that way-
ââŚOkay? I canât say Iâve heard of that before, but⌠Wade. You know I donât give a fuck, right?â For a moment, Wade glanced up at Logan, really hoping he wasnât calling him ridiculous or anything. It was always hard to explain this to people, which is why he usually just⌠didnât! But Logan wouldnât have let him lie about it⌠he never let him lie about anything anymore!! Something about being able to âsmell when heâs lyingâ or some shit?
âThat- no, that sounded bad, what Iâm trying to say isâŚâ Logan reached forward to grab his hand again, and Wade felt his heart calm down and fill itself with butterflies at the same damn time. âIf⌠if thatâs what you are, I donât mind. Whatever it is- you know what, just throw the Wikipedia page at me if it has a name, okay?â
Genderfluid. Wade had figured that out with Vanessa long ago, and learning what that meant, why he felt like he fit in with both men and women- but also neither category truly felt likeâŚÂ him? Her? Them, even-? was a massive breath of fresh air at the time. And⌠Logan was willing to learn. All for himâŚ? Oh, he knew heâd picked right!! Thank God he hadnât picked the vaguely problematic Logan from the early comic days on accident or somethingâŚ
âYou⌠you mean it, Logan? I didnât just blow your mind in a bad wayâŚ?â Wade huffed uncomfortably, still not quite believing what heâd just said.
âAh,â Logan waved off his concerns, stepping closer to give him a hug. Oh, he could cry- Logan hugs were the best⌠âYouâre still Wade, arenât ya? Weâre mutants- people like him hate us for a lot of reasons. Just because I donât understand something⌠doesnât mean itâs any of my business. And- bubâŚâ He stepped back a bit, giving Wade that soft, caring look that always melted his heart. âIâll try my best to understand. For your sake, alright? I love youâŚâ
Wade genuinely smiled, for the first time since that shitbag ruined their nice day out. âI love you too, peanut. Thanks⌠really. This means a lotâŚâ he muttered, squeezing him tight before he pulled away.
In return, Logan gave Wadeâs hand a tight squeeze. God- always had to try and break his fingers, huh? âNo problem, bubâŚâ He muttered something under his breath, making Wadeâs heart skip a beat since it sounded suspiciously like, âYou mean a lot, soâŚâ
With that heartwarming coming-out story out of the way, they walked back to their apartment as though nothing had happened⌠and in a way, it really hadnât!
Because they had each other, didnât they? And no one's stupid opinion of them would get in the way of their love, no matter how loud and annoying they were about itâŚ
#deadpool#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#wade wilson#logan howlett#gif choice matches the fic tone once again#and it made me smile so#genderfluid deadpool#genderfluid#deadclaws#poolverine week 2024#poolverine fanfiction#fanfiction#gale's writing
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Finisher // Roman Reigns x Reader (Pin Me Pt. 2)
Authorâs Note -> Hiiii everyone! So many of you requested a part two to Pin Me, which again thank you so much for all the love on the first part. I honestly didnât think of making it multiple parts when I first wrote this, but here we are and here it is lol! Happy reading!
Plot -> After pinning the Smackdown Womenâs Champion in your mixed tag-team match with Roman Reigns, you gained popularity and with that your first singles title opportunity. Youâve never been more nervous for anything in your life, so your Tribal Chief helps ease your nerves before your matchâŚ
Pairings -> Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader (Y/N)
Warnings -> Cursing, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Fingering, Gagging, Implied Smut, Not Proofread, MDNI
Word Count -> 3.0k
(time skip to the first Smackdown episode after Saturday Nightâs Main Event)
âIâve been your Smackdown Womenâs Champion for nearly five months now, and since becoming your champion I have proved that I am the irresistible force and nobody can take this title from me. Not Bayley, not Naomi, not Tiffany, and esp-â Niaâs promo was cut short by your entrance music hitting, the crowd rising to their feet and popping loudly for your theme. Since pinning Nia at Saturday Nightâs Main Event, you had taken the WWE Universe by storm; your social media following went up, more and more people were recognizing you in public, you had gotten exactly the recognition you wanted all along- and it was all thanks to Roman Reigns.
Since last Saturday and your ���celebrationâ post-match, youâve grown closer to Joe. You were getting to know each other better, spending more time together, and what you initially thought was a one-time thing in the heat of the moment was clearly not. Joe got his hands on you every chance he could, it didnât matter where or when, if he wanted you he was going to have you. And who were you to turn down your Tribal Chief?Â
Now, you two hadnât defined your ârelationshipâ just yet but you both were perfectly fine with the way things were at the moment- taking things slow and really getting to know each other (among other things) before making anything official. You were doing pretty well for yourself; you were gaining more traction than before and you had a fine ass man to go home to- you had zero complaints with how your life and career were going at the moment.
You emerged from backstage, microphone in hand, as the crowd roared at your entrance. You signaled for production to cut your music, walking confidently to the ring as you spoke. âNow, Nia, I know damn well you didnât come in the ring to talk all this mess about âno one can beat meâ after last week⌠did you hit your head too hard during our match or something because I,â you paused, signaling to the crowd filling the arena, âas well as the entire WWE universe remember very clearly that I pinned you last week at Main Event.â The crowd cheered in response, boosting your already high confidence as you smirked at Nia. âIf youâre soooo confident you can beat me one-on-one, then do it. Put your title on the line next week and letâs see how much of a âforceâ you really are.â
âOh, Y/NâŚâ Nia mocked you, âitâs so adorable that you think youâre a threat to me and my title. That win you got last week, pinning me? Was pure luck.â Nia stepped to you, with little distance between you too as she glared down at you, âBut unlike you, at least I donât have to sleep with anyone to get my main event spots, I work hard for what I have. Do that first, then come talk to me.â That wasnât in the fucking script, is she serious right now? Oh, if she wants to improv, best believe I can too. You swung without thinking twice, using the microphone in your hand to hit her on the side of the head. It was time for a fight.Â
You and Nia took turns trying to go at each other, both of you countering the other until she blindsided you out of nowhere with a hit that made you see double for a second. You knew you were done after that, feeling blood trickle from a cut on your head created by her. She continued to attack you while you were down, the crowd booing with every hit she delivered. After your body had slumped in the center of the ring she grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up, showing your beaten and bloody face to the crowd and cameras. âThis isnât fantasy, Y/N, stop playing pretend with Roman and go back to catering where you fucking belong.â She threw your head back onto the mat and exited the ring as security and medical personnel rushed to the ring. You dragged your fatigued body out of the ring and backstage, refusing treatment from medical despite their protests. You walked into the locker room Joe and you now shared, while Joe was screaming at someone on the phone.
âNick, are you fucking kidding me? Thereâs gotta be some form of punish- I donât give a shit what the higher ups thought about it, she couldâve seriously injured Y/N, I-,â Joe paused, turning around and seeing you enter the locker room, âI gotta go. This conversation isnât over.â Joe hung up on the GM and rushed over to you. âBaby, are you okay? Did she hurt you? Have you gotten looked at by-â
âNo, Joe, and Iâm not going to. Just please, drop it. Iâm over it.â
âWell, Iâm not. Why the fuck would she even say something like that? How would she have known about us?â
âI donât fuckinâ know, Joe! Now leave it alone, seriously, Iâm not in the goddamn mood.â You went silent, thinking about what you were going to do about Nia. You needed to do something different, something she would never see coming. Your priorities shifted completely after that segment, you now no longer wanted just the title. Your biggest priority, maybe even more than wanting the belt, was to beat the shit outta Nia Jax, no matter what it took.
âBabe, câmon, you need to sit down. Youâre gonna stress yourself into a heart attack if you donât quit pacing around the room like that,â Joe was currently attempting to calm you down, you had been completely fine this past week you were training and promoting the match, but now that the show had officially started your overwhelming amount of confidence had completely vanished.
âEasy for you to say, title matches are second nature to you. Muscle memory. I Â have never competed for a title before, I have every right to be freaking the fuck out right now, Joe,â you sighed. âIt feels like everything just did a 180 degree turn, like I have so many eyes on me now and they all want me to beat Niaâs ass, and I just donât know if I-â
âHey, none of that. Y/N, look at me,â you slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, the same ones that completely captivated your being just a couple weeks ago. âWhatever youâre about to say, donât. That crowd out there knows exactly what youâre capable of, you know what youâre capable of, and I know what youâre capable of. I believe in you, baby, and if you canât find it in you to believe in yourself then Iâll believe enough for the both of us. You got this, Y/N, I know you do.â Your heart melted at his words, the soothing and reassuring tone in his voice providing you some much needed comfort.Â
âYou still nervous, baby?â You nodded your head, looking down at your lap as he scooted closer to you on the couch. âI think I have an idea on how we can fix that. Do you trust me?â
âA-always, Joe.â
âGood girl.â He lifts your chin with his finger and passionately presses his lips to yours, resting his palm on the side of your face as you moan into the kiss. Your stomach flutters at his soft demeanor, feeling some of your nerves dissipate as his lips caress yours. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you as he deepens the kiss. Breathless, he pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours and looking lovingly into your eyes. âYou still feelinâ nervous, baby?â
âY-yeah,â you breathed out, âa little less, but still pretty nervous.â
âI guess Iâll have to keep going then, donât I?â His lips find their way back to yours, resting there for a moment before trailing along your jawbone and down your neck, leaving a few wet kisses at the base of your throat before continuing his path downward. Your breathing had picked up, and you were now looking down at him as his lips left a trail down your abdomen.
âA-are you sure we should⌠now? I mean, I have my match later and I-â
âShhh, I promise Iâll be quick. Just wanna take care of you, help my baby out,â he muttered against your hip bone as he teased the lining of your ring gear you had been wearing. You sighed contently, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch and allowing yourself to relax into his touch. His fingers interlock in the lining of your bottoms as he looks up for you, asking for permission to remove them. You lift your hips off the couch, allowing him to slowly drag the material down your legs and throw them to the side. He snakes both hands up your legs, kneading the soft flesh of your thighs before splitting them apart and exposing you to him. Your body was so reactive to him- Joe loved how goosebumps would scatter across your skin at the brush of his lips or how your eyes would flutter closed and your eyebrows would scrunch together with just his touch, but most of all, he loved how how wet he made you without doing a thing to you.Â
âFuck, ma, always so ready for me,â you moaned loudly and bucked your hips, desperate for any sort of friction, âyou gonâ have to be quiet for me, donât want nobody to hear us, right baby?â You nodded and bit your lip, trying to hold in your cries and his fingers danced up the smooth skin of your inner thighs and through your folds, leaning down to make his face level with your core and presses a soft kiss on your clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud, nipping and sucking while he continues to drag his fingers along your slit before pushing a finger inside. His thrusts are slow, putting his focus on his mouth as he eats you with a burning intensity. His tongue works itself in ways that set your body on fire, the scruff of his beard along with it only adding to the sensation heâs giving you. The lip youâre biting to keep quiet is nearly drawing blood. You want to cry out, you want to moan his praises loud enough for the crowd inside the arena to hear, but you know you canât so you continue to restrain yourself despite wanting to do the complete opposite.
He replaces his fingers with his tongue now, pumping it inside of you and using one to pin your hips down and the other to draw slow circles into your clit. This time you canât help yourself; your clit is so sensitive that the second his fingers brushed it, you were done for. He pauses for a moment to remove his t-shirt he was wearing and you whine from the loss of contact, watching as he morphs the cotton material into a ball and hands it over to you, bringing his hand back down to your clit. âBite down on this, since you canât keep yourself quiet, Iâll make you.â You hesitate for a moment and look down at him, his features darkening and giving you a sly smirk before nodding his head. You bring the material to your lips before biting down on it, your senses being completely filled by Joe. He goes back to eating you as you moan into the cloth, the material successfully muffling your cries. Joeâs movements become more and more desperate, moving his tongue and fingers faster as he can sense youâre close. You canât stop your moans now, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer to your release. Your legs begin to shake and Joe, noticing you were close, dives his head deeper into your pussy, trapping you with his mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut as you inhale, breathing in his scent and cologne you were using as a gag, triggering your own orgasm. You came on his tongue hard, shaking and moaning into the fabric of his shirt as he laps up your juices like an animal deprived of water. You even your breathing and throw his shirt back at him, the both of you laughing as he crawls on top of you.
âOh, you wanna throw things at me do you? I might just have to teach you a le-â
Joe was interrupted by someone knocking on the door to his locker room. âExcuse me, Ms. Y/N? Itâs almost time for your match, we need to head to Gorilla to finalize some things real quick.â You both sigh, him getting off of you as you put your bottoms back on in a rush. You make a run for the door to hurry and get to your position, but he grabs your arm to stop you. âYou still feeling nervous?â You smiled at him and shook your head, going to thank him but getting cut off. âGood luck out there, baby. Iâll be waiting for you in Gorilla for you to show me that new title,â he kisses your cheek and you blush.
âThank you, Joe, for everything. I mean it, I wouldnât be doing this without you.â He gives you a soft smile and ushers you out the door, as you prepare yourself for possibly the biggest match of your entire career.
âUghhh,â you groaned as Nia dragged you from the center of the ring to the corner, preparing to give you an Annihilator and win this match. From the jump Nia had punished you, much to the crowdâs distaste. It seemed like everybody in the arena had been behind you and you felt it, right up until the bell rang and she started throwing heavy combinations your way. You managed to sneak in a couple pieces of offense but none were convincing enough to give you any sort of edge. Nia got on the ropes, and performed the move. She remained seated on you, trying to get the pin. 1⌠2⌠kick out. You pushed her off of you and sat on your heels, gripping your side. Jesus, my fuckinâ ribs.Â
Finally to your feet, you unload on Nia as she laid on the ground. Kicks, punches, springboard moves, you threw the whole arsenal but each pin attempt gave a 1 or 2 count, and never close calls. You knew deep down you were going to have to do something completely insane to get this win, so you start stringing things together to get it done. You start by giving her a drop kick to send her to the outside, following her out, then throwing her into the steel steps. You dragged her by the hair to the announce table, laying her on it as you ran to the ring and climbed to the top rope. You made sure everyone near the table had cleared before crossing your heart and doing a senton, landing on Nia as the table and collapsing along with it. You could tell that Nia was nearly to the breaking point, so you mustered all the energy and strength you could to drag her back into the ring and climbed to the top rope once more. You hit your finisher, but wasnât satisfied. You wanted no doubts, so you climbed up and hit it again, straddling her shoulders and hooking your arms around her legs. The arena was so loud you could barely hear the refâs count. 1⌠2⌠3⌠âHere is your winner, and the NEW⌠WWE Womenâs Champion⌠Y/N!â
You couldnât even process what had just happened, all you wanted to do was get the hell out of that ring so you snatched the title from the ref and escaped. You slowed down when you made it to the stage, clutching the title in your arms and looking down at it with tears brimming your eyes. Your knees felt weak, and your heart was beating out of your chest. You did it. You triumphantly raised the title in the air, tears starting to fall as you smiled and took the moment in. After the cameras had cut and you had taken a few pictures with fans, you walked backstage only to be greeted with cheers. You made your way to everyone, getting pictures, hugs, and everything else in between before locking eyes with the man you wanted to see ever since your hand was raised. Joe. You practically ran to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping yours around his neck, hugging him tightly. He spun you around and smiled from ear to ear.Â
âIâm so fuckinâ proud of you, baby. You had a helluva match out there, I knew you had it in you,â he kissed you sweetly right there, not caring who was watching as you grinned widely. âNow, letâs get you home,â he winked at you, setting you down before whispering low in your ear.
âWeâve got some more celebrating to do tonight.â
#roman reigns#roman reigns smut#roman reigns x reader#roman reigns fic#roman reigns fanfic#roman reigns x female reader#roman reigns oneshot
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Revelations
Progress is being made!!!
First: A Not So Average Night
Previous: Witness To A Crime
Next: Coming soon!
ââââ-
Neither Shawn or Gus could describe how exciting it was to finally hear that tiny voice. It was like finding a room full of chocolate just for them to enjoy. Their hard work over the past hour getting the little guy to trust them has finally paid off. The three might even become friends after this.
"I'll tell you what'cha wanna know as long as you don't hurt my people." The tiny voice wavered as he spoke barely above a whisper. He had an interesting accent, although neither human could place it.
Shawn was shaking with excitement at the mention of even more tiny people running around. There must be a whole secret society! On the other hand, Gus was not as thrilled when he realized there could have been little eyes watching his every movement for who knows how long. Although a smile still played at his lips by the simple fact the little guy was getting more comfortable with them.
However, their smiles slowly faded as the words finally registered in their brains. How scared the little guy sounded. It was one of the last things the two men expected after all the progress they had made. What did they do to get that sort of response? Why is he still scared?
Shawn chuckled nervously, "What are you talking about?"
Gus' expression-filled eyes were full of concern, "Yeah, why do you think we'll hurt your people?"
Tucker dropped the chip on the desk, all but forgotten as he stared at his giant tormentors. His gaze hardened behind his tears. "You've been trying to manipulate me into telling you everything this entire time!" He snapped, the overwhelming mix of fear, anger, frustration, and sadness boiling over the edge.
He took a step forward, "And the psychic has been reading my mind 'cause I refuse to comply!" Tucker pointed an accusatory finger at Shawn, who stared at the minuscule finger with wide eyes.
The human's mouth gaped open for a moment, speechless. Shawn was prepared for a lot of things in life thanks to his overbearing dad, but getting yelled at by a man smaller than a finger was not one of them. He glanced toward his friend for any sort of advice, but Gus only gave him an equally shocked expression in return.
Shawn held up his hands, "Uh-listen, I swear I don't read minds. I'm not one of those types of psychics."
Tucker crossed his arms and quirked a brow. "Really? Then how'd ya know where I was hiding and when I was hungry and that I'm from the walls?" He challenged. His fear of being punished by humans was long gone.
"The spir-" Shawn began before getting hit in the shoulder. "Ow!" He glared at Gus as he rubbed his shoulder, "What was that for?"
"You are not giving him the whole 'psychic revelation'." Gus stated with no room to argue.
Of course, Shawn still tried to argue. "But I am a psychic. The spirits tell me everything from the beyond." He gave Gus a look, begging him to go along with him.
His friend ignored him and turned back to Tucker who tensed up again. "He's not psychic. Shawn's a fraud." Gus said blatantly.
"Gus!"
"There's no point in lying to a four-inch tall man, Shawn!" Gus crossed his arms, "Who's he gonna tell? The Chief? Lassiter? Juliet? It's just scaring him even more!"
Tucker shifted uneasily as he watched Shawn facepalm with a frustrated sigh. When the humans said nothing else, he chose to pipe up. "What do you mean?" He asked Gus.
"He pretends he's a psychic that talks to spirits to solve murders. He's just good at noticing the little things and remembering them." He answered knowingly with a shrug. Gus glanced over at Shawn leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, attempting to block out his friend exposing his well-crafted lie.
Admittedly, Tucker still didn't understand. How in the world could Shawn figure out all that information if he didn't read minds? That's impossible. But there's no reason for Gus to lie about something like this.
He licked his dry lips, "Then how did he know all that stuff? Was it just luck?" Tucker tentatively asked.
As much as Gus wanted to answer, he had no idea how Shawn did it. Even after doing this whole Psych agency thing for months, and being friends with Shawn since they were babies, his friend's uncanny skill set still surprised him sometimes.
When Shawn didn't say a word, he lightly nudged him in the side. "Shawn. He asked a question." He said quietly.
Shawn solemnly nodded. "Back at the house, I noticed grease stains from the chips on the table that looked a lot like footprints. There were multiple trails leading to the bag and I figured something was in there. I was expecting a mouse though, not you." He explained simply.
He sighed and looked to the side as he continued, "there's specks of sawdust on your clothes, only way you can get that is from inside the walls. It makes sense as a safe place for you to live. And I guessed you were hungry 'cause you were hiding in a bag of food earlier." Shawn looked up at Tucker, appearing dejected, "Happy now?"
Tucker nervously glanced down at his boots, "Y-yeah. Sorry." He murmured sheepishly. He fidgeted with his sleeve as he started to shuffle away from the humans again. All of his foolish confidence was gone, replaced by a sinking feeling in his gut that he just made things far worse for himself.
Tucker wanted to slap himself across the face and scream. How could he interpret a situation so damn badly! Mind reading? Seriously?
"Hey, don't feel too bad." Tucker glanced at the human as Shawn spoke, startled how the human seemed to read his mind again. "Everybody falls for it, I'm just too good." A confident smirk played at his lips, and he gave the small man a knowing look.
"But now that all my secrets are out, I think you owe us your name." Shawn stated lightheartedly, quirking a brow.
Tucker blinked at that. It made sense, but he still didn't want to say his name. It felt wrong telling a human that information. But he's already been caught by them, spoke to them, and told them more of his kind existed. Yeah.... He's long past following the borrower code now.
Taking a steadying breath, he met the four giant eyes of the humans. "My nameâs Tucker." He cringed as his voice cracked slightly. After living on his own for three years, he wasn't used to using his voice anymore. That and the added pressure of talking to two freaking humans.
"Tucker," Shawn repeated, seemingly testing the name out, "Sounds badass."
Gus nodded beside him, "Like a gangster." He added with a smirk. "Nice to finally meet you Tucker."
The borrower only managed to nod along. He was not expecting this turn of events whatsoever. Tucker honestly thought he would be dead or left in a cage by now. He awkwardly glanced back at the chip he abandoned and decided to finally satisfy his hunger.
He sat down with the chip on his lap and continued taking bites out of the salty food. Meanwhile, Shawn and Gus shuffled closer to the desk on their knees.
"Soooo Tucker," Shawn began nonchalantly, "What exactly are you?" He couldn't hide his eagerness as the question left his mouth. His wallet depended on this answer thanks to his earlier bet with Gus, although Gus would have to pay for lunch either way since Shawn had no money. Still, he wanted to be right. He crossed his fingers under the desk, please be a leprechaun, he thought to himself.
A shiver went down his spine, but Tucker did his best to hide it. He purposely took a long time chewing his food before responding. "Don't ya wanna know about the murder?" He asked, changing the subject. Even though these humans were better than he thought, he still didn't trust them enough to reveal his people's name.
Shawn's face dropped, "Oh... right. The case."
"I forgot about that." Gus admitted quietly. He was as eager as Shawn to figure out who won the bet. "You're not a leprechaun though, right?" He couldn't help but ask.
Tucker shook his head. He didn't even know what a leprechaun is.
"Ha! I told you!" Gus pumped his fist in celebration.
Shawn scoffed, "You haven't won. We don't know if he's a wingless fairy or whatever ridiculous thing you can up with."
At that, both humans looked expectantly at Tucker again. His shoulders bunched up as his eyes danced between the two. Slowly, he shook his head side to side.
Gus shrugged, pretending not to care. "It doesn't matter, you would have made me pay for lunch either way." He pointed out.
"I actually would have paid this time." Shawn corrected him.
"Sure you would."
A loud phone chime stopped Shawn from retorting. He dug through his back pocket before taking out his phone and checking the screen. His brows rose, "It's Jules."
With one last glance towards the borrower on the desk, he tapped the green button. "City morgue, you stab'em we slab'em." He quipped.
"Not now Shawn." She said curtly. "Carlton mentioned you were at the Blum residence this morning, right?â
âLooks like Lassie has his facts straight for once.â Shawn said sounding proud. He heard a loud sigh on the other end.
âI donât know about that.â Julietâs voice was now quiet and unsure, very different from her usual confidence.
âWhat do you mean?â
There was a beat of hesitation before she continued. âCarlton seems so sure itâs the husband and is trying to get answers from him as we speak. I just- I really donât think itâs Steven.â Juliet admitted.
Shawn exchanged a quick glance with Gus who was leaning in to listen to the call. Tucker was also paying attention, but he seemed more interested in the phone itself rather than the conversation. It took everything in Shawn not to coo at the little guy. He was just so cute with his tiny eyes peeking curiously up at him like a tiny little kitten and- Shawn took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the phone.
âAre you asking me what I think youâre asking?â He teased with a growing smile.
âI just want to know what you think.â
âWell pat yourself on the back Jules âcause im getting signals from the beyond itâs not Steven.â
âWho is it?â She eagerly pressed. Shawn figured she was already prepped to run out the precinct and arrest the real killer in record time. He loved watching her take the bad guys down. She somehow always looked so beautiful doing it. Unfortunately, he would have to see her arrest later.
âThe spirits havenât told me yet. Theyâre a lot shyer today.â He said sadly. âIâll tell you right when I find out.â Shawn promised.
âThanks Shawn.â Juliet said quickly before hanging up the phone.
Tucker felt a sense of unease as he listened to Shawn lie about talking to spirits. The human admitted he was a fraud, yet he didnât show any signs of a liar like every other human. Not even a quiver in his voice or his eyes twitching left. Maybe it was because he was speaking to a box instead of a person. Either way, Tucker figured it was best not to anger the human if Shawn was capable of hiding his lies.
When the human pocketed the little box again, Tucker adverted his gaze back to the chip in his lap.
"What did the killer look like?" Shawn asked. Even though there were still so many questions whirling around his head about Tucker, he knew he had a job to do. A poor innocent man was being interrogated by Lassie and Shawn wouldnât wish that fate on anyone. Well a few people did come to mind, but that was beside the point.
Tucker placed the rest of his chip to the side and brushed the salt and grease from his hands. He was about to answer, until he realized he was at the advantage for once. "I'd love to help, but my stuff is still over there." He pointed to the far end of the desk where his supplies lay.
Both humans glanced at his things, then at each other, then back at Tucker. Gus' eyes narrowed, "You're not gonna leave once you get your things back, right?"
Tucker adamantly shook his head.Â
They couldn't exactly keep the items from him since they did belong to Tucker. So, Shawn reached over and scooped the tiny objects into his palm. "Promise not to stab me again?" He asked warily before handing the items, most notably the nail, over.
Tucker stood and took a few steps back as the giant hand neared. He smirked up at Shawn, "As long as ya don't manhandle me again." There was still a hint of nervousness in his voice as the hand stopped right in front of him.
"TouchĂŠ," Shawn replied as he slowly tilted his hand so the tiny objects could slide off.
The borrower immediately began inspecting his possessions. The fish line on his hook was tangled but that was an easy fix. Tucker grimaced as he noticed his silver nail still had some blood on the tip that has long since dried. He'll have to figure out how to make it shine again later. He dragged his leather satchel over to himself and undid the clip. The contents inside were strewn about but undamaged.
"I couldn't really see the killer's face inside the bag," Tucker began as he started to reorganize his satchel, "But his voice was too deep to be the resident male's- uh Steven's." He corrected.
Shadows covered him as the humans leaned in closer to hear his small voice. Tucker kept his eyes down as he distractedly untangled his climbing rope. "Kirstin was really surprised and scared. But I think she recognized him."
"Really? How so?" Gus asked.
"She called him 'J.'" He started to reveal. Suddenly, his hands stopped untangling the string. Flashes of the woman's giant, bloody face appeared in his mind. Her pained features and the desperation in her watery eyes as crimson blood pooled around her head. The way she stared at Tucker when she realized her final moments were approaching.
A lump formed in his throat. Tucker knew all too well what that fear and helplessness felt like. How suffocating it is. Like your drowning and the only way to go is deeper into the dark depths as weights dragged you down. And only the actions of others will decide your fate. Tucker got lucky, but the same couldn't be said for Kirstin.
"Earth to Tucker." A voice rumbled above.
He snapped out of his haunting memory of the murder only hours before. Tucker glanced up just in time to see a pale hand approaching him with a borrower-sized finger outstretched. Surprised, he fell onto his rear and scrambled back. "Stop, stop!" He frantically demanded, holding out his weapon.
The hand flinched away and quickly disappeared back under the desk. "Relax, I'm not some giant monster. I was just gonna poke you." Shawn said.
With a huff, Tucker rose back onto his trembling legs and glared at the human. "Ya touch me, ya get stabbed. Got it?" He stated, holding up the still bloody nail.
"No touching, I get it." Shawn swore. "Were you having a vision? Are you a mini psychic!" His face lit up at the mere thought of having a tiny spirit whisperer as a sidekick.
Gus rolled his eyes beside him.
Tucker slung his satchel over his shoulder and put his nail through the small hoop on the bag. Slightly embarrassed, he began coiling up his climbing rope. "No, sorry. I just-," he chuckled dryly, "Guess that human's death got to me more than I thought."
He glanced down at the desk under him as he thought it over. Death has never bothered him before today. It wasnât uncommon to hear a borrower dying from illness or a rat or getting crushed. Out of eleven kids, Tucker and two other siblings were the only ones who lived to be adults.
Sure it was sad, but they would simply hold a funeral and move on. So why was this death, a humanâs death, bothering him so much?
"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Tucker." Gus reassured him, unknowingly knocking him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, Gus still gets queasy around bodies and we've been working on murder cases for months."
"That's a normal reaction, Shawn. Not everyone is a psychopath like you."
Shawn laughed, completely unbothered. "I see what you did there! Psych-opath." He lightly patted his friend's shoulder.
Annoyed, Gus quickly shrugged him off. With one last glare directed at Shawn, he turned his attention back to Tucker. "Ignore him. You said Kirstin called the killer 'J,' correct?"Â
Tucker frowned as he remembered the victim's last word, meant just for him to hear in her final moments. "Yeah, then she said 'Josh' right before she died." His eyes danced between the humans. "Ya think that's the killer's name?"
Both men smiled. "Definitely sounds that way." Gus confirmed.
Tucker perked up at that. "I did what'cha asked. This mean I can go home now?"
"Of course!" Shawn assured him with an easy smile. "Hop on the Shawn Express and let's get rolling." He lowered his hand until it rested palm up in front of the borrower.
Tucker back up even further, not taking his eyes off the hand. His heartbeat quickened as the phantom feeling of those same fingers curling around him came back. It took everything in him not to pull out his weapon.
When it was clear Tucker was not hopping on his hand, Shawn curled his fingers to motion for the little guy to come closer. âThe Blum house isnât walking distance from here, especially for someone as vertically challenged as you.â He pointed out.
Tucker scowled up at him, âI-I know!â He stubbornly responded. He cautiously took a few steps closer before freezing up again. He just couldnât do it. Willingly putting himself in a humanâs hand went against every single survival instinct.
Gus frowned at his nervousness. âI know it doesnât seem like it, but Shawn can be careful when he needs to. You can trust him.â He promised.
He glanced up at Gus who gave him a reassuring nod, clearly telling the truth. Tucker took a few more moments to steel his nerves before closing the distance between him and the giant hand. He immediately climbed on the leathery skin before he could second guess himself, settling in the center of the palm. Tucker closed his eyes and tried to ignore the heat rising from the skin and the thumping of a pulse.
âHere we go,â Shawn warned quietly. He slowly rose his hand up to his chest and immediately placed his other hand underneath to add more protection for Tucker. âItâs just like when I carried that little spider when we were kids.â Shawn said with a smile, trying to hide how nervous he was carrying an entire human being.
Gusâ eyes were locked onto Tucker, ready to catch him again if something went wrong. He couldnât believe this was happening. Never in a million years did he think he would watch his best friend hold a tiny little person in the palm of his hand.
His eyes never strayed from the small man, even at Shawnâs comment that brought back terrifying memories. âYou mean that big spider you chased me around the house with for ten minutes straight?â His tone was full of annoyance.
âIt was harmless.â Shawn responded as he began carefully walking towards the door. Tuckerâs eyes were still shut tight, and Shawn thought he could even feel the minuscule fingers digging into his skin.
Gus sped past Shawn and to the door that led to the outside. âIâm pretty sure that was a brown recluse. You coulda killed me.â He cracked the door open and scanned the outdoors for anyone that could spot Tucker. Thankfully, no one seemed to be up in the very early hours of the morning and he quickly beelined to his blue car.
Shawn was close behind. His hands were protectively cupped to his chest as he too scanned his surroundings for people. âThat definitely wasnât a brown recluse, youâre making things up.â He defended himself.
Gus opened the passenger side door for him and he climbed inside. Gus quickly sat in the drivers seat and turned the key in the ignition.
Tucker flinched at the sound of the engine rumbling to life. He squirmed in the stuffy confines of the hands cupped over him, pushing against the fabric of the chest in front of him. After what felt like forever, the hands shifted around him and he found himself on his back looking up at two green eyes.
He quickly sat up and fixed his black poncho. âAre ya gonna put me down?â He asked nervously, glancing around the inside of the car.
Gus was the one who answered, âAbsolutely not.â He turned in his seat and began backing out of the parking spot, making Tucker brace himself at the sudden movement. âThereâs no safe places for you to sit in here and the last thing I want on my conscience is you getting hurt while Iâm driving.â He stated without any room to argue.
Tucker nearly forgot how to breathe. How was he supposed to sit with a damn human the whole time!
Psychic or not, Shawn seemed to read his mind. âRelax, weâll be back at your place before you know it.â He said with an easy smile.
Tucker forced himself to nod in response, hating every second of this morning. He couldnât wait to get back in the walls and away from the humans.
#g/t#g/t community#g/t writing#giant/tiny#borrower#borrowers#burton guster#psych#pocket detective#oc tucker#shawn spencer#juliet o'hara
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