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trekkiehood · 2 months ago

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Paint Your Smile & Hide Your Face (MotA Fanfic)

Ao3 Link

Rating: T Words: 4.8k TW: Canon typical violence, suicidal thoughts, references to child abuse Part: [1] 2/3 Sequel to: I Wore My Mask Up High (Ao3)

Notes:

Hey guys!! This chapter took me FOREVER to write. I know I said this would be the last one... but when I finished it, it was almost 8k words and I (personally) don't like to post chapters over 5k. I know people in general don't have a problem with it, but it's just my preference. So I split it up. The GOOD news is that since I did not know I was going to do this until today, the next chapter is completely finished! So I'll post it sometime tomorrow! I updated the tags so make sure to take a glance at them before reading! Hope you enjoy <3

It was cold. That was Gale’s first thought upon waking. It was followed quickly by the fact that there was a dull ache throughout most of his body. Like he had a flu.

A flu was something he could not afford. None of them could afford. Pain he could handle. Sickness could be spread. Sickness could kill.

But he wasn’t sick and he knew that. And he wasn’t going to think about it.

He wasn’t going to think about why he was in pain because that would require him to revisit the events of the night before.

He’d managed to slip into bed without anyone else bothering him. It was cold but Buck had refused to share a bunk with anyone. Even Bucky. He could see the hurt flash in his eyes but he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t have someone that close to him. Not when his skin was still crawling with the deep sense of uncleanness.

Sleep had come. Eventually. But it hadn’t been restful. He’d found himself clutching at his chest, trying to force his pounding heart to slow and remove the rushing sound in his ears. Sometimes an adrenaline crash would force him to sleep. But he supposed he never really crashed, the adrenaline pulsing through him, waking him up anytime he got relatively close to rest. He was more tired now than he had been the night before.

He was just thankful that he hadn’t dreamed.

All he needed was to cry out in the middle of the night and have Bucky come running. He didn’t need Bucky to fix him. He didn’t need to be fixed.

He was fine.

The walls seemed to be closing in around him. Every one of these men depended on him and he had nothing to offer them.

He shook his head, releasing a breath.

Things could be thought about and dealt with later.

Right now his only goal was to escape the claustrophobia of the bunk room before anyone tried to talk to him. He didn’t know what he’d say. He didn’t want questions or thoughts or platitudes. He wanted to be left alone.

He already knew that he wouldn’t be good company today. He was tired and his throat hurt and even the sounds of his men breathing was too loud. He didn’t want to try to talk. He just knew it would hurt. It would sound bad.

There would be no permanent damage. It’s not like he couldn’t breathe. It was just painful and annoying. Like a left over from a bad cold.

Maybe he was coming down with something.

Gale finished dressing in silence, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck before putting on his coat. They slept in most of his outerwear these days. Warmer that way.

The lack of mirror was honestly a relief. There was nothing he could do for his face. He pulled up the collar of his coat hoping it masked, or at least distracted, from the bruises.

“Where ya goin’?” Bucky’s sleep filled whisper stopped him before he could make it out of the room.

“Going to the latrine.” He lied. That had become a habit as of late. Lying was easier than telling the truth. Than admitting what he was feeling. Than worrying those around him.

The creaking of weight shifting on a bunk made Gale close his eyes. “Shouldn’t go alone.”

“It’s fine.”

“No. I’m coming.”

He could just leave before Bucky had time to get his shoes on, but that would confirm the fact that something was wrong and that Buck was avoiding him.

Instead he didn’t answer. He stood by the door, trying not to lean too heavily on the frame. His head was already pounding.

Gale didn’t actually have to go to the bathroom. If anything he wanted a shower. The showers weren’t open yet. He had just said it so that Bucky would leave him alone. A plan that had obviously failed.

“Into the winter wonderland.” Bucky commented before leading the way out of the barrack.

It was warmer than it had been the previous day. The snow had started to melt, leaving a thick brown sludge instead of fluffy white snow.

“We need to shovel this before it freezes again.” He noted absentmindedly.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Can’t you take a nice stroll without thinking about what needs to be done.”

It was meant lightly. It wasn’t a reprimand. That didn’t stop the bitterness from trying to claw out of his chest. Gale bit back his answer, opting to remain silent. No. He couldn’t not think about what needed to be done. Bucky had made it clear that he’d rather wallow in self pity than take a leadership role here. So Gale would have to shoulder it for both of them.

They stopped outside the latrine and Gale could no longer hold his tongue. “What are you doing here, Bucky?”

The look he gave Buck was so obnoxiously innocent. “Going to the bathroom?”

“You’re following me.”

“It made sense-”

The irritation broke free. “Stop playin’ games. You plannin’ to follow me around the rest of the war?”

“If that’s what it takes.” And he sounded so sure of himself. So casual. Like this was just another one of his stupid baseball conversations.

Gale’s jaw tightened. “If that’s what it takes to what?”

“Make sure you don’t slip again.”

It was Gale’s turn to roll his eyes. “I told you. I’m fine.” He tried to make his voice sound resolute, ignoring the strained sound of his words. It was even more of a lie today than it had been last night.

“Just tell me who it was, Buck.” The nonchalance was dropped, a pleading taking over his tone. “Then I can stop worrying about it.”

But that’s not what would happen. Either Bucky would go off half cocked and try to enact vengeance, or he’d really never let Gale out of his sight for the rest of the war. He was already proving he was more than willing to do the latter. It made Buck feel trapped more than the barbed wire or the guards.

He meant to express that. Explain that Bucky finding out would do more harm than good. Reasonably lay out the facts and get Bucky to understand his reasoning behind keeping things quiet.

Instead what came out of his mouth was a seething: “Stay out of my business. If I wanted you to know, I’d tell you. Leave it.”

The words had left quicker than Gale could stop them. He spun around, more trying to hide the embarrassment than actually trying to get away. Bucky wouldn’t retaliate in front of the men. Probably. He just had to get back to the bunkroom. He hadn’t needed the latrine anyway.

~MotA~

Gale leaned against the barrack, watching some of the boys play an unofficial baseball game. It was really too cold for this. It made sense for those working up a sweat in the yard, but this weather wasn’t meant for standing. His reasoning for being out was simple. He was avoiding Bucky.

He hadn’t seen him since this morning. Gale had decided staying out in the open would be the easiest way to avoid a confrontation. Bucky could be reckless, but he wasn’t stupid. He was currently playing cards in the barrack, not willing to brave the cold even for his beloved baseball. Or maybe he was in on the avoidance game.

One of the men fell more than slid into third base. The ground really was slick. He wished the snow would melt on its own. It held no logic, but he somehow felt that if the snow melted this dark feeling inside of him would go away too. He should probably start a rotation for shoveling the snow. If it melted and refroze during the night it would turn to ice and they didn’t have the resources to deal with injuries right now.

But he just… didn’t want to. He was tired. He didn’t want to tell anyone what to do. Let them figure it out themselves. Or someone else can take command. He didn’t want it. He wanted to go bury himself in a book until the guards had to drag him back into his barrack.

His wrist hurt and his right eye was a little blurry. His shoulder was bothering him too. It hadn’t been quite right since he was shot down and he must have jarred it when he fell. It didn’t matter. Not really. He was no stranger to pain. He’d get over it.

He should go inside. Somewhere warmer. But Bucky was inside and he didn’t particularly want to deal with him at the moment. His concern made Gale’s skin crawl. Sometimes it was appreciated but right now, he just wanted to move on like it had never happened. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want Bucky going off the deep end and getting himself shot. He didn’t want anyone, not even Bucky, to know the words spoken to him. To know why he was a target.

“Major.”

Gale jerked to attention at the Colonel's sudden appearance. He'd been too lost in thought to notice his approach and felt embarrassment flare in his chest.

The older man chuckled quietly. “As you were, I just came to check in on you.”

“I'm fine sir.” He relaxed but didn't lean back against the wall. An uneasiness settled in his gut when he considered the Colonel’s reason for seeking him out.

There was a long moment of silence, Alkire joining Gale in watching the game.

“Been in a fight?” The words were said casually. They shouldn’t have been. If he was being accused of fighting with subordinates the conversation would be different.

Gale’s coat was buttoned, his scarf hiding the bruising on his neck, but nothing could hide the shiner on his face.

“No sir, just… a mishap. It's nothing.”

“I heard it might be something.”

Gale’s cheeks flushed pink. “I'm fine sir.” He didn’t know what else to say. Was there anything else to say? He was fine. He was fine and he refused to drag anyone else into this mess with him.

“I have a feeling you wouldn't tell me if you weren't. What happened?”

Bucky. It had to be Bucky. No one else would dare. No one else was crazy enough to go to Colonel with this.

He glanced at the Colonel, weighing his options. He could outright lie. Tell the same story he'd been telling. It’s what his instincts were screaming at him to do. What he had been raised to do.

But instead he turned his eyes back out towards the men. “I’m okay, sir. There was a mishap last night but I took care of it. It won’t happen again.”

Except it would. It would happen again and again and again. As long as he was here, Langsmier would keep trying. He would just have to be better at staying away. Keep better track of the rotation schedule.

Because if it happened again Gale wouldn’t hesitate to run straight at the gate. Let him die with the rest of his dignity.

The Colonel sighed. “I want you to think for a moment, Buck. If you found out that one of your men was being mistreated, hurt, how would you feel?”

Gale’s jaw tightened. He'd feel awful. He'd want to know so he could take care of it. He'd want to make sure that they were okay.

But that's not what this was. He wasn't some lieutenant who needed to be cared for. He could take care of himself. He'd been doing so his entire life. He didn't need people in his business. Didn’t need them to know the way Langsmier’s touch seemed to linger on his skin. He didn't need people knowing. He didn't need his friends getting hurt because of him.

And yet a deep part of him wanted it all to spill out. Wanted to explain everything in detail. It was the same childish desire that he’d had to bite back all of his upbringing. His dad would always tell him how much trouble they’d all get in. That things would just be worse if he told people how they lived.

The same thing would happen now. If he told, things would only get worse. Not better. And yet-

“Sgt. Langsmier.” The words are out of his mouth before he can second guess himself.

The Colonel seems perfectly neutral about the situation. “What happened?”

And now that he’d opened his mouth, he couldn’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out. The desire for someone else to know, to understand, momentarily overrode his desire for privacy.

“I was on my way back to my Barack and he cornered me. Knocked me around a bit is all. Wouldn't let me leave until after curfew.”

“He do that to your face?”

Gale nodded, his jaw tightening. Now that the rush of words had been expelled, he only wanted the conversation to be over. The exhaustion that had been haunting him all day, haunting him for weeks, threatened to take over. The adrenaline that had been pumping through him since last night seemed to finally dissipate, bringing a dizziness that threatened to drop him to his knees.

“I'll take care of this.”

For some reason that only made the yawning pit in his stomach grow. The world around him oscillated between bright white and a strange dimness. He leaned back into the wall for support.

“Is there anything else I should know?”

He wanted to shake his head. He wanted this all to stop. He wanted it to be over. But the hand wrapped around his chest squeezed and the words gushed out of his mouth.

“He said things.” His mind was screaming at him to shut up. But he couldn’t keep it inside. “about the men.” A shuddered breath released against his will. Then much quieter, he finally admitted the truth, “about me.”

“Such as?”

The Colonel knew Gale wasn't trying to waste his time. If he didn't have something important he wouldn't have have brought it up.

“He was- he's been trying-.” He had to stop, releasing a frustrated breath. “He wants me.” And the great Buck Cleven was going to throw up all over his shoes if this conversation didn’t end soon.

The Colonel's eyes darkened. “I see.”

“There was a- uhm a Captain. I don’t- I’ve seen him around but- well he stopped it. Sent me back to my barrack.” This was embarrassing. Like he’d forgotten how to form sentences.

He needed to stop.

Alkire didn’t care.

He had more important things to worry about.

But he did care.

And that was the problem.

Why did it always seem like people only cared when you wanted them to leave you alone? But when you actually wanted, needed , help you were left to fend for yourself?

“Stay in public areas until this gets sorted out, don’t go off alone.” The order was one Gale had little intention to follow, but he understood the sentiment. “I’ll keep you updated.”

The only words he could force out from his aching throat were a whispered. “Thank you, sir.”

The Colonel nodded and made quick steps away. Towards the komendanture.

Gale felt like he was being led before a firing squad.

Maybe that would be better.

His head connected with the wall behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut and delivered quick breaths out his nose.

His heart was pounding and the cold inside of him was starting to melt away.

A fire being lit, one that wanted to burn everything to the ground.

This was all Bucky’s fault.

All of this.

He went to the Colonel.

He got him into this mess.

When Gale had specifically asked him to stay out of it.

The embers ignited and he took off towards his barrack.

For the first time in weeks Gale didn't feel cold. There was a blaze inside him, sparked by rage. In a moment of deja vu all heads turned to him as he slammed the bunkroom door open.

“Everyone out.” He ordered in a voice that gave no room for arguments.

Bucky frowned, rising from his place at the table, eyes filling with concern. “What seems to be the problem, Buck?”

“Not you. You stay.” Gale hissed in answer. “Everyone else out.”

There were only about half a dozen men in the room, but their eyes darted between the two majors before Bucky finally gave a hesitant nod.

As the door closed he leaned against the bunk, a cocky smile slipping into place. “Well you got me alone. Is something wrong or did you just miss me?” It was a deflection to hide his worry. It didn’t stop the flame inside of Gale growing ten fold.

“You had no right.” He ground out, taking three quick steps forward then stopping. If he got any closer he might actually throw a punch. He wanted the feeling of skin pounding skin. It would feel good. Release some of the growing pressure.

It was all consuming. Fire. Anger. Hatred . (Just like his father.)

“I’m in a POW camp, Buck. Don’t have many rights to begin with. Be more specific.”

“You went to the colonel. You had no right to get him involved. None! I told you to leave it. I told you I was fine!”

Bucky pushed off the bunk, grin disappearing. “I had to. You’re not fine and you refuse to tell me what happened. Somethings wrong and you’re proving it to me right now. What happened last night?”

“I told you what happened!”

“And I told you that you don’t get a hand print on your neck from a slip in the snow! You came in well after curfew looking like you’ve been in a bar fight and refusing to let anyone get near you!” He stepped forward, coming to meet Gale in the middle of the room. “Why aren’t you telling me? If there’s a guard that’s harassing you why won’t you just tell me?”

Something about the sincerity in his voice set off a viciousness. “Why do you even care?” He snapped, feeling like a junkyard yanking at his chain.

Bucky blinked, physically reeling at the words. “Why do I- what kind of question is that? Of course I care!”

“You don’t care.” And for the second time today his words were passing straight through the carefully constructed mask of Major Cleven without permission. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself!”

“What?” This whisper would have deflated Gale on a normal day, but not today. Not right now.

“You haven’t cared about anything or anyone since getting here! Why would you start now?!”

“Buck-”

“For months I’ve been waiting for you to snap out of whatever this was. I’ve tried to help but you don’t want it so I backed off.”

“I didn’t-”

“I didn’t get the higher ups mixed up in this! I didn’t go tattle like an immature schoolboy!”

“ Buck please-”

“You get to check out. You get to have no responsibilities because I pick up the slack for you. And all I ask of you is to stay out of my business and you can’t even do that!”

“Buck take a breath you’re scarin’ me.” He looked like he wasn’t sure if he should rush forward or stumble back.

“You think the winter has been easy for me? You think I don’t wish I could push it all on someone else? I don’t have that option.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care! You got that? I don’t care what you do. Go back into your own head or wherever you went just don’t act like you suddenly care.”

“I do care. How could you-”

“Stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours.”

John seemed to make his decision, coming forward and grabbing Gale by the shoulders. “Buck, look at me.” He gave a firm shake. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but you’ve got to talk to me. Whatever you’re bottling up, it's killing you. Just talk to me.”

He shoved him away, taking the smallest pride in the way Bucky stumbled back. He wanted to lash out. Wanted to fight. A part of him knew that it wasn’t Bucky who he wanted to make bleed, but he couldn’t strike at who he wanted without getting shot. It was taking all of his self control to not come in swinging and Bucky seemed determined to push him past his limit for tolerance.

“You think you’re proving that you’re fine? Is that what you think you’re doing?” John stepped forward until the two majors were face to face. “All you’re doing is proving that I was right to go to the Colonel.”

A twig snapped free from the fire inside of him, igniting down his arm to the point he had no control over it. His fist came up, no clear aim in sight, but landing in the general direction of Bucky’s nose. Blood made an appearance, John’s hand rising to meet it.

Bucky had never looked so surprised. Guilt should come now. It probably was buried in there somewhere. But all Gale felt in the moment was satisfaction. Relief. Release.

(A voice in the back of his mind wondered if that’s how his father had felt.)

Refusing to give in he made his mission to drown out the voice, letting the anger escape one last time.

“Stay out of my business, Egan. I’m not telling you again.”

Bucky was staring at him, mouth ajar, hand catching the leaking blood.

Gale spun on his heels, letting the new adrenaline rush fuel him out of the hut. He felt oddly satisfied when the door slammed behind him.

As soon as he stepped outside Brady gave him one glance, eyes unreadable, and headed quickly back inside.

Benny was watching him and looked like he wanted to say something. Gale glared at him, daring him to comment on simmering embers glowing beneath the major’s skin. DeMarco raised his hands in surrender, offering a final glance before following his friend inside.

Now alone, Buck wasn’t sure exactly what to do. The relief was starting to wear off, the euphoria of the strike dissipating and being replaced with an aching hand.

The world seemed to solidify around him. He blinked as if seeing reality for the first time in days. His hands shook, breath catching.

What had he done?

The look on Bucky’s face was seared into his memory.

What was he doing?

Why had he done that?

Who was that back there?

The man who had been standing in the bunkroom more closely resembled a James Cleven than a Buck.

He needed-

He needed to go apologize.

Beg for forgiveness.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t face them.

He couldn’t face Brady and Benny.

He couldn’t face Bucky.

A layer of embarrassment seemed to cement around him, dissipating any remaining embers and filling him with frozen sludge.

And there was still a part of him- a part he hated but couldn’t control- that felt he was in the right.

Nothing he said had been inaccurate. Bucky had disobeyed his wishes. Bucky had been stuck in his head. Bucky was a mess.

And yet-

His head was all screwed up.

He couldn’t think straight.

For a split second the shocked look of Bucky’s face morphed into that of Sgt. Langmier’s and it felt good .

He pressed the back of his hand into his forehead, closing his eyes and releasing a breath.

Exhaustion threatened to overtake him.

He needed to snap out of it.

He was losing it.

At least Bucky had had his skull bashed in before arriving at the Stalag, what was Gale’s excuse?

Running his shaking hand down his face he opened his eyes, cursing the snow that seemed intent on burning his retinas and freezing his soul.

“Major Cleven.”

Gale snapped his head to the left, feeling bile rise at the sign of Alkire walking towards him.

He cleared his throat. “Is something wrong Colonel?”

“The Commandant would like to speak with you.”

He was suddenly thankful that he’d missed the last couple of meals, otherwise he’d embarrass himself with vomiting up precious resources.

“Is there a problem?”

“He just has some questions for you. I’ll be there as well.” He nodded, keeping his tone neutral but reassuring. “I’m not throwing you to the wolves, Major.”

Gale nodded, not having the energy to fake a smile.

Despite everything, in that moment, Gale wished for nothing more than to have Bucky by his side.

But he’d probably ruined that. Doubted Bucky would ever want to be by his side again.

The walk to the Komendanture, felt like one of the longest in his life. Even with Colonel Alkire, a man he respected, who had vowed to protect him, he couldn’t seem to keep his heart from beating wildly out of his chest.

At the rate he was going he was going to have a heart attack before the war was done. At least then all of this would be over.

This was why he didn’t want anyone knowing. This is why he didn’t want anyone involved.

In a Prisoner of War camp, any attention was bad attention. You wanted to fly under the radar. Even if the commandant was a reasonable man, even if he was going to try and help him, this meant that he was officially on the radar as a troublemaker. He couldn’t afford that. Not when the men were so twitchy. Not when he knew he needed to be the mediator. Not when Bucky could snap at any minute and he’d have to run interference.

And after the whole radio thing his whole hut was already on the watch list.

“Major, thank you for joining me.” Buck brought himself back to the present, offering a proper military salute. He hated it. Hated them . These men didn’t deserve his respect. “At ease.”

He was instructed to stand in front of the Commandant's desk. The Colonel stood beside him at parade rest.

“Major Cleven, Colonel Alkire has implied there may have been some… unauthorized punishments as of late.” He could feel the man’s eyes on him, scanning his face, taking in the split lip and bruised cheek. “I have also been informed that this may not have been the first time such a thing has occurred”

Gale couldn’t seem to find his voice. His eyes darted over the Colonel who gave him a nod. “Yes sir.” he finally managed.

“When did this incident take place?”

This time he resisted the urge to look at his commander, maintaining eye contact with the German Colonel. “It began just before curfew, sir. He refused to allow me to return to my barrack.”

“And he struck you?”

His mouth felt dry, his throat closing in on him. “Yes sir.”

“More than once.” It was not a question.

“Yes sir.”

“And then he let you go?”

A brief pause. “No, no sir. Another guard, a Captain, came along and stopped it. I’m not sure of his name, sir.”

The commandant nodded. “This matches the report given to me, both by your Colonel and my Captain.” Then looking at Gale carefully, he sighed. “I am aware that you have been largely responsible for keeping the men under control. You do not cause problems and hold great sway over the men. I will deal with my Sergeant. But Major,” Gale felt his pounding heart nearly stop at the sharpness of the tone. “This is twice now that an altercation between you and a guard has been brought to my attention. If this continues, I will be forced to assume that you are the instigator, not the victim. Am I understood?”

Gale could barely get his mouth to move. His head nodded while he worked to force out a quiet, “Yes Commandant.”

“Very good, dismissed.”

Buck wasted no time offering a salute and exiting the Komendanture. The Colonel was close behind him.

It felt like he breathed in the first breath in hours when he was finally out in the cold. He knew he must be as pale as the snow around him. His shoulder ached and his bruised lip pounded with his heart.

“Thank you, Buck.” The Colonel’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “This was for the best.”

How was it for the best? How was now officially having two strikes against him, neither of which his own fault, for the best?

A hand gripped his shoulder. “Try to stay in public areas until everything is sorted out. When I know more I’ll inform you.”

As the Colonel walked away Gale stood motionless in the snow, trying to still his racing heart.

The last thing he needed was to be in a crowd. He needed to think, or better yet, he needed a distraction.

Assuming Bucky was still in the barracks that was off limits.

There wasn’t a stove in the library, but there were four walls and an escape from the eyes of his men. It would have to do.

Notes:

This is the longer part of the split chapter, the resolution will come tomorrow. (And it gets worse before it gets better *hides behind laptop*) Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Our boys are fighting and it breaks my heart (and yet I love it okay I love that trope). Thank you all for your patience in waiting for this chapter. I hit a real depressive slump and just could NOT get out of it. But I'm doing much better and was finally able to put together a finished project I'm proud of of. Thanks especially to @youokaybucky and @stars-remain2 for listening to my ramblings as I tried to formulate a coherent chapter. Ya'll are the best <3 I look forward to your thoughts! Much love and God bless, Jamie

#paint your smile & hide your face #mota fanfic #gale buck cleven #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven whump #gale cleven whump #my fanfic

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erinau · 21 days ago

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I’ve been watching The Residence and came up with this.

Warning for: Death, Child abandonment, Neglect, and SonShadAmy

“So.”

“So…”

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”

“Huh?”

“Where were you… at the time of the murder?”

“I… I don’t know… When… when do you think it…”

“That’s what I’m asking you, ma’am.”

“I don’t know! I.. I guess soon before his.. body was… gaia, his body, my husband’s…”

“You don’t know when he died? Fine, let me ask this differently. When did you last see Sonic the Hedgehog tonight?”

“Tonight? Oh, Gaia, I don’t know.. I don’t think I’ve hardly seen him at all tonight. We were both so busy, I mean, I was dealing with guests, he was dealing with the kitchen.. Maybe we passed in the… hall… the big one, what is it.. West hall?”

“...”

“What is it, you… you’re looking at me like I said something wrong…”

“Why would Sonic the Hedgehog be handling the meal prep? He’s the main attraction at this party, wouldn’t he be swarmed with journalists? It would make sense that your other husband, Shadow, would be dealing with the food. After all, I’ve heard several guests complaining that the meals tasted like space food, and Sonic is… more of a beans and onion kind of guy.”

“I… I guess my memory is a mess, I mean, I’m just so stressed, and my husband was just murdered and-”

“How well do you know Sonic the Hedgehog?

“I- uh what?”

“Describe your husband.”

“Uh… Funny, sweet, loud, but like, in a good way.. He’s-”

“What did he look like, Amy?”

“W-What..?”

“Come on, Amy, give me something. Eye color, quill color, anything.”

“Uh… Sonic has… had… shit… down pointed quills, bright eyes…”

“I’ll stop you right there, that’s all I need.”

“W-What…?”

“Tell me, Rose, how many times have you mistaken another hedgehog for Sonic?”

“I- Uh- A lot, oaky? There was Metal, and Shadow, and SIlver… but it was dark, and I was stressed, and I- It was busy a few times…”

“It was dark, and crowded? Like the kitchen you would say? And the West Hall?”

“I uh.. Yeah, yeah just like that… there’s been a light out in both of those places for ages… Shadow has been trying to get Silver to change it for ages because he’s the only one who can reach those lights without a ladder, and because I’ve been… mistaking Shadow… for Sonic…”

“Because you have terrible night blindness. And just eyesight in general. And probably completely colorblind.”

“Wait, how did you-”

“How did I know? Well for one, those two look completely different. Second off all, you never describe anything with color. YOu use shapes you can compare, or brightness. I observed this about the hall, because that’s not just the West Hall, it’s also known as the Blue Hall, because there’s so, so much blue. Finally but not really, you leave all the lights on when you leave a room, like a habit you built out of need.”

“What does any of this-”

“Have to do with the murder? I’ll get to that, but first… what does my name tag say?”

“Wha..? Okay, umm.. Detective Flock?”

“You’re guessing. You’re always guessing. Anyone who can actually read my tag will know that it says Senior Detective Pudding Flocks. I’m going to assume it has to do with your unresolved childhood problem. Your parents never cared, so why should you? If you couldn’t read the whiteboard, you moved to see it, or copied someone, since you couldn't be a bother. Especially with a sick baby brother. wHen you were eventually left in that field, and when you eventually found Sonic, you had the urge to protect, because that it your fight or flight response: Sacrifice. You’ve known about your eyesight for a while, but you were raised, well raised is a strong word, but raised to believe that you were an inconvenience anytime you brought an issue up, so you said nothing, and instead focused on everything and everyone else.”

“How do you know all of that?! And what does any of that have to do with Sonic’s death?!”

“It’s a fancy party, gossip gets around. Anyways, you were so stressed tonight that when you had to deal with guests, you weren’t trying to stay in the lighting that helps you see better. You were so stressed that when you were stuck in that hall, you weren’t looking for the comfort of Sonic, but to make sure all the guests got through, and when you were stressed because your husband was found dead, you weren’t crying or screaming or clutching him close like most people who just lost their lovers would because you were trying to calm Shadow and Tails.”

“So?!”

“So, you didn’t have the chance to look at the body long enough to realize that that isn't Sonic the Hedgehog.”

“What..?”

The Mystery of Sonic the Hedgehog by erinau, inspired by The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog and The Residence.

Hopefully this will become a series! I’m definitely in love of this concept!

#sonic the hedgehog #the murder of sonic the hedgehog #suspense #mystery #amy the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #Writing #sonic the hedgehog fanfic #sonshadamy #sonamyshad

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a-ladyman-in-waiting · 1 year ago

Text

Story snippets

Prologue

I had picked up a wicked looking pendant with a single large pearl surrounded by six rubies. But when I went to bed for a wanking session (masturbation), I was instead greeted by a large dragon shaped specter.

After a long conversation, I eventually wished for a sexy dragon girl body under a sense of embarrassment. The pearly dragon spirit took a single nod and told me a few rules.

- Stay under the moon

- You’ll undergo unbearable pain from time to time

- Your magic is tied to your habits

And then I blacked out.

Chapter 1:

[Waking back up?]

I woke up on my bedroom floor, sprawled all over the floor.

My head was too numb for me to speak, let alone process the dream I had.

So I kept myself on the stone cold marble floor.

I mean, it looked like marble.

After a moment or two, I slowly got up.

*ping*

I suddenly felt a strong chilly sensation run through my spine.

“AH SHIT”

I wiggle and shake haphazardly, trying to remove the strange sensation.

Until I put my hands behind me.

My heart skipped a beat.

I gained three new feelings behind me.

One, I can now feel and move; two large wings and a long tail.

I glanced around for my bedroom mirror and scrambled to look at myself.

When I quickly stood in front of the tall mirror, I spotted a woman with orange hair, wearing a black bikini, a staring back at me.

I took a longer look.

She had two curvy pale yellow horns, large white scaly wings, grey, baggy sleeves that held onto one finger, and black thighs with jewelry.

I looked down, staring at her crotch.

I noticed that she had a long white tail, the same one that I can absolutely feel, that ended with fins. I think it had three finger-like parts.

I don’t know how to describe fins, man.

I should mention that her—I mean, mine I guess.

“wait…I had a tail?”

“Is that me? Is that my tail?”

I looked down…oh my god I’m actually wearing a bikini.

“Shit!! I need to cover up!”

I looked around for a closet.

I always forget where it is ok?!?!

But then I spotted something with my horny eye.

Ok, Im kidding.

I felt my bikini with my left hand, it’s attached to a large ring.

I felt it with my right.

Another large ring.

I looked at my feet.

I was wearing heels.

“WAIT WHA—“

I wobbled in placed, desperately waving my arms around for anything to break my fall.

I slammed my palm onto the wall with a thundering wham.

“AHHHHH!! I left a big-ass hole!”

Wrong, I left a big crack on the wall.

I “yelled” profanities with whispers.

Then I immediately checked the living room past the doorframe to see anyone investigating the noise.

But not a single soul rushed out, not even a scream, nor a quiet ‘hello?’.

“…how?”

I glance behind me, expecting to see my sleeping siblings.

Only to see an empty bed.

With the blanket covers nearly tucked into place and the pillows placed on one side in an orderly fashion.

I stared at my bunk bed.

It only had one blanket.

One ruffled, white, blanket that was tossed over when I woke up.

“Da fuck.”

I crept into the living room, but my wings got caught in the doorframe, leaving me to struggle for a minute.

After I wiggled free, I tried to keep an eye on my tail to avoid making any further noise.

Once inside, I looked at the small coffee table. It was a black oval shaped table that occasionally held our drinks and food during Game Night.

Nothing was off about it, but I kept gaslighting myself into thinking that something felt off.

So, I continued forward and found the door to the hallway.

“I’m still in my house…right?”

I stared at it.

Looked at my hands.

Then I counted.

“1…2…3!”

I turned the handle and swiftly opened the door.

“AGGHH”

- End Chapter -

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apollodarling-writes · 3 years ago

Note

yandere sugawara hc?

ily sm for this.

fun fact: i actually kin sugawara.

tws: blood/gore, murder, gaslighting, manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, stalking, non-con, somnophilia, kidnapping, murder-suicide

YAN! SUGAWARA KOSHI HCs

Sugawara would, at first, admire you from afar. Watching as you joke with your friends, eat your lunch, and so on.

Sugawara would develop a crush on you that way. He would notice all the cute habits you have and the way your nose crinkles when your friends say something weird/gross, the way your eyes brighten when you laugh. He would notice everything.

Sugawara would find you on social media and stalk your page, looking for things to talk to you about. If he doesn't know/isn't interested in something you are, you better believe that he will research it.

Eventually, Sugawara would notice that he has competition. Whether it be you crushing on someone else or some rando crushing on you- he would be jealous. So so so so so jealous. He can't stand it.

Suga would work up the courage to speak to you and you two would become friends. He'd ask you to come to his practice games and he would ask you to hang out.

Suga would for sure be delusional but have moments where he realizes what he's doing is wrong. He would justify it somehow. Saying that he wasn't stalking you, he was just making sure you were safe... all the time. He wasn't killing people in cold blood, he was just making sure they didn't hurt you.

Before the murders start, he would secretly spread rumors about you. Horrible things. He feels bad, kind of. But, he knows that you'll be happier with him. He's the only one that's worthy of you.

And, when everyone leaves you, you'll cling to him. He'll be so happy. Don't even think about trying to reconnect and explain yourself to those losers, they didn't even ask you if it was true. They just left. Truly a blessing in disguise, if you ask him.

Suga would sneak into your room at night and take things from your dresser, like your panties/underwear/boxers and use them at home to get off. He'd cut portions of your hair off while you sleep, using it for voodoo.

Worst of all, when you fall asleep, he would use your hands or your thighs you pleasure himself while he touches you. He would be drunk off of your sleepy moans and the adrenaline. He secretly hopes you would wake up.

He would also take pictures of you. Pictures of you changing, pictures of you sleeping, pictures of you laughing, staring off into space, crying, etc.

When he starts killing people off, those 'friends' of yours would be first. Suga eliminates people that catch on and people that speak ill of you, as well as people that have feelings for you/people you had feelings for. He doesn't really want to hurt your family, but he will if he has to.

Suga will without a doubt, kidnap you. He'll run away with you to a cabin deep in the woods and keep you there. He'll lock you in a room until he can trust you.

Sugawara will keep you locked in that room, chained to the bed until you learn to lean on him. Sure, you'll hate him at first, but when you realize that he's all you have and he's the only one who will ever love you, you'll behave.

Sugawara will for sure feed you, clean you, bathe you, give you water, etc. He will take care of you, using the chains as an excuse.

He would also sleep beside you. He would cuddle up to you at night, kiss your forehead, and tell you all the good things that the two of you could have if you would just behave. He would also force affection maybe including sexual intimacy.

Sugawara uses the training system. He will reward you when you behave and he'll punish you when you break a rule. Behave, please. He'll cripple you if he needs to.

Suga is delusional, remember? So when he forces you you say that you love him, he knows you mean it.

Body worship. Suga loves everything about you. Doesn't matter your size, color, blemishes, etc. Will worship you in entirety.

He won't tell you that he kills people handles people for you. He wants you happy at all times, so he'll do anything to keep it that way.

If you have a uterus, Suga wants to have tons of children with you. Will definitely use your child to keep you in line.

If you manage to escape, he'll catch you before you can get help and take you back home.

If you manage to escape and get help he'll kill you and them himself. If he can't have you, no one can.

However, if you stay with him, when both of you turn eighteen and he trusts you enough, he'll integrate you back into society and tell everyone that you two decided to run away because you wanted to be safe. You'll be a wonderful housewife/house-husband/ house... spouse??

They'll never figure out that he was the murderer. He's too smart.

"[Name]-chan, I love you so so so so so so much. You love me too, right? Right?... I'm so glad. I knew you loved me."

"Don't cry. I'm just making sure you're safe."

"Sweetie, don't worry about them. They didn't even ask if you did those things. What friend leaves you over some silly rumor?"

"Don't worry, baby. I'm here. I'll always be here."

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zhongyeet-me-to-the-moon · 3 years ago

Text

Till we meet again part 5

Previous part here.

Till we meet again Masterlist.

Pairing: childe/foul legacy x reader

Type: story, slow burn rekindling

Warnings: dunken arguments, is sexual tension a thing to warn people about?

You squeaked in shock as Ajax grabbed you from behind while you were cooking. Laughing as he spun you around the kitchen in excitement.

"Stop you almost made me spill the pot you dummy!"

"I can't help it! I missed you so much!" He spun you around so he could pepper kisses all over your face. Hands resting on your waist perfectly like they always belonged there since birth. "Sorry I'm late honey."

"Ajax what if my parents walked in! You know how I feel out pda."

"You said they're working late tonight right? So whats the harm?" You rolled your eyes at his comment. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you took note of all his freckles that lit up in the setting sun through the window, his pretty blue eyes that showed a hint of tiredness due to work that still beamed at you like you were the only two left in the world. The few moments they didn't seem void of any feeling at all.

Hopefully no one will be walking in when I find a place for us. You thought.

.......

It had been a week since you took this job and a steady routine was set in place for you and Childe. The conversations were more lively, he responded to what he could. He took up the painting, though he wasn't good even if his handling skills woth the paint and charcoal wasn't impaired. You helped out more and more at the funeral parlor, you were never good at comforting people so you definitely had to learn a thing or two before Hu Tao let you take the reins in the comforting part of the meetings.

All in all it was going a lot better, you were settling in more or less.

The main problem now was you were beginning to get too comfortable with childe. Old habits started to rise even if he was in the form that he was in.

You used to always make coffee for him when he was home, he wasn't a morning person as much as his job forced it at times. Plenty of times now you walked in on him still sleeping and having to wake him to the promise of a cup of coffee and creamer. He was still against you touching him though. You had to catch yourself a number of times shaking him awake, or just petting him in general.

Since you gave him something that wasn't Liyue food, he always wants at least one of his meals to be something from home each day.

Those meals are always a lot more quiet than the rest you noted.

You were starting to get a hang on the voice patterns of his speech. The more Sassier squawks and clicks coming out as time went on. He even got out of bed more to move around, cought him trying to play that lute you impulsively bought a few time even.

At some point a proper armchair was ordered for his room so you can properly relax while visiting. Last night you found yourself dozing off with a book in it. It was only for a couple minutes, if childe noticed he didn't acknowledge it, preoccupied with a book in hand himself.

You coughed to remind him of your presence. "I'll see you at dinner time Childe. I got a few more errands to run for Hu tao before the day ends." You had to catch the step you were about to make towards childe rather than out the door. What were you gonna do over at childes bed? Kiss him goodbye like you used to? Hug him? Absolutely not.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

You needed a drink, it just dawned on you you haven't drank a drop since you got here. Does Liyue even have bars? This place seems too fancy to have one, or at least not a noticeable one since every building was so meticulously sculpted. It was definetly a social drinking type of city.. You missed the dawn winery, and the loud unorganized singing the patrons did when it started getting rowdy.

Missed going back to a hotel with a warm body next to you.

Fuck. Your on a job y/n! Get your mind out of the gutter.

......fuck it.

You eventually did find a local bar near the outskirts, still just as fancy exterior wise like you guessed, but the inside was a lot for relaxed to your liking. You ordered whatever was the cheapest and took a seat on the stool up front.

"You just get into town?" The bar tender started after a couple drinks in.

"Uh no I've been here a while now, just haven't had much free time since I suppose due to my job."

"Oh really? What job is that now?"

"Im interning at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Lot of hours, lot of things to learn apperently." You laugh, its a good thing you were trained to lie well even tipsy.

"Lot of things to learn at a funeral parlor? Isn't it just signing paperwork and arranging funerals?"

"Isnt bartending up mixing a few liquids together and making small talk?" You countered, he jokingly raised his hands in defeat. "I'm y/n by the way."

"Wang Ming. Its a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully you get more free time to stop by." You giggle at the obvious inclination, he was attractive to say the least, curly black hair and cute round glasses. "Or if you'd like, my shift ends in about 10 minutes. Maybe we could continue this conversation outside the bar?"

Shit that sounded nice. You looked out the window though, becoming aware the sun set a while ago. Aw fuck, you're late for dinner.

"As lovely as that sounds duty calls early in the morning tomorrow."

"You must really take your, interning seriously."

"Well you know what they say, experience looks real good on resumes. A rain check though, for sure" you downed the last of your drink, paying in mora as not to get that bill questioned by the business, and slowly making your back. Trying hard to get your footing even, grabbing take on your way back, and spraying a bit of perfume on before entering the building.

Luckily Hu Tao and miss Ferry lady had a job tonight so no one was in. When did stairs get do hard? You didn't drink that much did you? They were a lot more expensive then in Mondstadh, you just figured everything was more priced here though, maybe it was more quality than you thought.

You knocked on the door as you usually did, this time though the door swung open before you had a chance to do it yourself. "I know I know I'm late, I got take out though if that helps." You smile, maybe a bit wider than you usually do for it to be convincing cause he did not look happy. Still, he let you in in a huff.

They were out drinking. He noticed, even with the perfume his heightened sense of smell gave away the alcohol lingering behind. He sat on the bed in a huff.

"Whats you're problem? I was only a little late. I said I was sorry didn't i?"

He didn't make eye contact.

"Fine, don't speak." You threw the take out bag on his bed and began preparing the folding tables as you always did. "Not like you didn't come home late all the time before." You mumbled

He squawked at that last statement, you either weren't as quiet as you thought or he had super hearing.

"What? You think I wasnt pissed when you were hours late coming back to me? Almost every time?! Had me worried sick you were dead Ajax!" You were too drunk to notice you used his real name for the first time since coming here. "But I put on a brave face as always, smiled like it didn't matter i had to reheat the food for the third time!"

He stood up, a number of chirps and caws coming at your direction. All of it was giving you a migraine. Childe stopped two inches from your face, his chest was puffed out, fur sticking on end as he kept his literal hooting and hollaring.

You didn't think I couldn't tell the food was cold? That it was ridiculous you made it seem like you were just cooking that late an hour? I tried ok?! I tried so fucking hard for you y/n! I had a job to do, I vowed my life to the Tarista, I COULDNT HELP IT.

"Gods stop! I CANT FUCKING UNDERSTAND YOU ALRIGHT?!" He slammed his fist down on the folding table in frustration, causing it to collapse. "Oh your so lucky that things meant to do that." You spat.

There was a pause to catch each others breath, staring each other down like prey.

I still came back didn't I? Even when you weren't there. Doesn't that count for something? Anything?

You weren't right on this..you weren't. You had friends to keep you company, family. He has no one at this moment. You weren't being fair! He moved to sit down at the edge of his bed, after a while you followed to stand in front of him.

"What do you want me to say ajax?" Your voice was quieter now, a whisper, you tried hard not to make it sound like you were pleading. "You want me to smile like you always used to? Want me to say 'I'm sorry I'm late honey' and hug you and hope its all gonna be ok? Even though we both knew It wasn't."

Childe didn't look at you, he just stared at the table and take out on the floor. You sighed, you weren't sober enough for this. You grabbed his hand in both of yours, too drunk to notice the flinch that followed but he made no move to pull away. You put on the best smile you could, pulling the hand close to your heart and willed the tears down like you always did when you looked him straight in the eyes before.

"Im sorry I was late honey," you repeated, "won't happen again. I promise."

I mean it. You thought.

He didn't pull away, you made no move to drop his hand either. Without realizing it you were both slowly inching closer than should be allowed by both of you.

Then a knock came on the door.

Zhongli walked in for the first time in a week.

#ajax x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #foul legacy x reader

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cursestothemoon · 4 years ago

Note

yay for the open requests! I really reallyyyyyy love your Harry's older sister hc, could u pretty pls do more? like their brief life as a family with lily and james, then to the dursleys and then at war, so on. I agree with the anon that did the request, harry does needed a bigger sister❤️

aH I LOVED THESE REQUESTS

YOU GUYS CAN READ THE HEADCANONS THIS ANON IS TALKING ABOUT HERE

ok so this is L O N G i need to add a keep reading tab

alright so let's talk about harry's older sister

so lily and james did not plan you

they were straight out of hogwarts

just having fun

and suddenly lily is having morning sickness and james running into a store to buy a pregnancy test (or whatever the wizard equivalent would be 😗)

james would be so nervous the weeks leading up to your birth

he already knows that you aren't even here yet and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you

and when you are born

he swears he'd never love anything as much as he loves you

his little girl

this sweet little lump of baby fat that was born with eyes just like his

he'd put his glasses on your little baby face, and he could laugh for hours at the way they just barely sat on your little nose (a miniature version of his)

your chubby little baby hands are his favorite

when you'd plan your hands on his face or wrap your hand around his finger he'd melt

Lily would joke all the time about how she carried the baby yet James is constantly hogging her

I think james would have some serious separation anxiety

Lily would also have trouble leaving you to go do something but she knew that you getting to see other people would be good

james is NOT a fan

and you were a big daddy's girl

"it's going to be alright, darling, uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony will take care of you."

and you'd respond with sad baby talk, something along the lines of 'daddy' and 'wanna stay with you' and you'd get all teary eyed

it's a whole dramatic scene

youre crying

james is about to cry

Sirius is quite literally trying to sob silently into his hand because you just look so sAD

and remus and lily are just

😐

because you guys do this eVERY TIME

there was one time james got back into the car with lily after dropping you off and he was unusually quiet until he kinda just whispered out

"It just feels like i'll never have enough time with her, like one day i'll wake up and suddenly she's not mine anymore."

his tone gave Lily the worst chills, his tone and the fact that she felt the same though never voiced it

honestly

i don't think harry was planned either

he kinda just happened

and they were like

you know what, yes.

so you were two when harry was born

and you LOVED your baby brother

he was so small

so cute

and he had your mum's green eyes

from the get go you were very protective of your little brother

james thought it was the cutest thing

ok ive been avoiding it

but we need to talk about October 31 1981

you were upstairs with our mum and harry

james was downstairs cleaning up from dinner

that was when there was a knock on the door

assuming it was peter, uncle wormtail, james was quick to go open the door

grabbing his wand for protection was the last thing on his mind

the thud of his body was loud

he was killed before he could even open his mouth to warn Lily

the door to Harry's nursery flew open and it all happened so fast

there was screaming

bargaining

a sudden flash fo green before Voldemort turned to harry

his cold, pale hand pushed you out of his way

the prophecy had said nothing about you, so he didn't care for what happened to you he just needed to kill harry

which obviously backfired

half the house was blown up

he was gone

harry was crying

and you just wanted your dad

you found your way downstairs, just barely making it down the steps

lily and james had never let you go up or down the steps on your own

only to come face to face with your dad just lying on the ground motionless

his eyes were still open

now i want you guys to think of the lion king

you know the scene where simba finds mufasa's dead body and just lays with it because he doesn't know where else to go

you just wanted any kind of comfort you could find

so with tear streaks going down your face you slayed next to your dad, getting as close as you could, hoping he'd just wake up

sirius is the one who finds you, asleep next to james' body

it was rather rough for sirius

and he could hear harry crying somewhere upstairs

you wake up to uncle padfoot trying to keep in his tears as he takes in the scene before him

you're just glad to see a familiar face

you run over to him, tears freshly falling as you wail about how daddy and mommy won't wake up

you also gently pull james' glasses off his face and keeping them in your small hand

keeping them safe for him later

you knew he didn't like to sleep with his glasses on

eventually hagrid shows up

you guys know the story

but i will say

it takes a lot for you to leave uncle pads and go with this big strange man

youre basically heaving as you beg to stay with sirius

and forcing you off his hip and onto the bike with hagrid was the worst thing he's ever had to do

even for a two year old, youre eyes held such a strong emotion of betrayal

sirius would never forget it

the dursley's were not fond of you and harry

you had james temper and stubbornness

harry was just a 6 month old baby

doing 6 month old baby things

for the first month you'd ask for james, lily, uncle moony, uncle padfoot, even uncle wormtail on a daily basis

until one day petunia just snapped

you had asked about sirius, or as you called him uncle padfoot, and petunia lost it

she started to shout, her hand coming out to strike your cheek as she told you that no one was coming

not now

not ever

you never asked after that

over time you forgot about sirius and remus and peter

you forgot about the song your dad would sing every saturday morning when making breakfast

or the way your mom would hum when she brushed your hair

all lily and james had become were familiar scents and the same pair of eyes you'd see in your dreams (though for a long time you just assumed they were your eyes, they looked enough like yours)

and you grew up always feeling like you were on the wrong side of a billowing curtain

you and harry grew up only having each other

you were very protective of him

and dudley hated it

because you had James art for pranks

and his art for rarely getting caught

unfortunately for you petunia and vernon didn't need evidence to incriminate you

you were often on the receiving end of disciplinary swats and missed meals

and you'd often take harry's punishments for him

you and harry were also forced to share a room

or cupboard

you let him decorate it with all his things (he didn't have many)

and you guys shared a bed up until you got your hogwarts letter

which that was kept very quiet

you got the letter

and petunia and vernon were just glad to be able to send you and your pranks away

you weren't allowed to tell harry

but you did anyway

secretly

you didn't tell him all the details but you told him that you were going to a school far away and you'd be back whenever aunt petunia let you back

going to school was interesting

you didn't know anyone

bUT HAGRID WAS ALSO THERE TO HELP YOU AND BUY YOU YOURE STUFF AND HE BOUGHT YOU YOUR FIRST WAND

you still have james' glasses

you put them on when youre nervous

so youre sitting in the train

first day

you don't know anyone

big round glasses sitting on your nose as you look out the window barely able to see what's going on

james was as blind as a bat

on the train you spend your time reading your new books

absorbing all the material

you were not going to just walk into this new school of mAGIC not knowing aNYTHING

by the time you got there you were at leas base level with most subjects

some were easier to catch onto than others

as long as you didn't let the logical side of your brain do too much work

within the first week you'd find out about your parents

curtesy of older gryffindor kids who knew your last name and were just amazed by the story

oH ALSO YOURE IN GRYFFINDOR

AND WHEN MCGONAGALL READS YOUR NAME SHE GASPS TO HERSELF

BECAUSE

Y/N POTTER

she remembers when james had written to her with the news of Lily's pregnancy with you

and how he was nervous you'd come out just like him and he wouldn't be able to handle you as well as she had, he was asking her for advice

and when you walked up to sit on the chair she nearly dropped her scroll of parchment and pulled you into a hug

you looked just like him

dark hair

pale skin

same eyes and eye shape

and same habit of picking at the skin around your thumb nail when nervous

the hat announcing you were a gryffindor was very overwhelming for her

then she realizes you

are e x a c t l y

like james

and merlin is she tiRED OF THIS SHIT

ok so at this point i am going to direct you to the other headcanon (linked above) if you want a more fred x reader approach

continue here if not

so youre on the quidditch team

and youre a natural

let me tell you

you just have the innate ability

much like james

and at first they had you as a seeker

and you were good

but you excelled as a chaser

i also firmly believed that there was a practice broom that james had carved his name into

or maybe just a ‘J.P.’

that was the broom you'd practice on

even use for games before you got your own broom

ok so

let’s talk your relationship with harry

you made sure you were the one to tell him what happened to your parents

as i said it was your first year when you fond out about what happened

the gryffindor student had told you what they knew

and you went to professor mcgonagall pretty distraught

you were near tears as you practically begged her to just tell you what happened, you wanted the truth

because all your life your aunt and uncle had told you that your parents had been killed in a car accident

needless to say

you didn't want harry to find out that way

but you also knew he was noticing the stares

the whispers

so you told him on the first night

he had already been put into gryffindor and was getting ready for bed when you are up to his dorm

bECAUSE IT’S CANON THAT GIRLS CAN GO UP INTO THE BOYS DORMS AND BOYS CANT GO UP INTO THE GIRLS DORMS AND I WILL CITE THE PARAGRAPH IF ANYONE NEEDS

and you kinda push out ron, neville, and dean

but yeah thats how he finds out all the details and such

ok so you and harry are sUPER CLOSE

and you are very

v e r y

protective of harry

you'd do anything for the kid

wHEN YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THE WHOLE SORCERER’S STONE FIASCO

YOU ARE LIVID

because harry is your baby brother and you love him so much and don't like seeing him hurt ��

as harry grows older he gets a bit more

embarrassed

about having you protective over him

and im pretty sure i mentioned this in the last headcanon post

but yeah he’d be like 14 and you'd be 17 and he'd just

“stOP this is so emBARRASSING”

what a little dweeb

ok leTS TALK ABOUT SIRIUS

BECAUSE YOU AND SIRIUS WERE CLOSE WHEN YOU WERE YOUNGER

HE WAS UNCLE PADFOOT

YOU LOVED HIM

until your fifth year (harry’ third) when you were told he betrayed your parents and got them killed

youre in the whomping willow when with harry, hermione, and ron

its a lot for both of you

because sirius is seeing his goddaughter who looks just like james, and his the same fire in her eyes as his bestrfriend

his b r o t h e r

and youre seeing the man who was responsible for your parents murder

again

it was A LOT

i have a feeling you, JAMES POTTERS DAUGHTER, would just lunge at him

and youre crying

trying to hit him

hurt him like he hurt you

just anything to bring pain upon this man

and sirius is having flashbacks of when you had ran to him from next to james’ lifeless body

and how different everything had been just days prior to October 31 1981

upon finding out the truth

scammers is now wormtail

peter ‘little bitch ass’ pettigrew

you and harry are immediately forming this connection

this sort of dependency on sirius

within a few minutes

because he is the only living connection you have to your dad

apart from yourselves of course

but eh was the only reminder that james potter was a real man

and lily potter did exist

and there was a time where your family was complete

it never crossed your mind that any more misfortune could strike

not now

not when you finally got back your uncle pads

and then you guys walk into the moonlight, the full moon light

everything flips instantly

you guys are back to square one

i like to think you have a very big part in getting sirius free

so you guys know what happen in between prisoner of azkaban and order of the phoenix

and this headcanon is already getting very long and we haven't even gotten to the wAR YET

so we are doing a little time jump

order of the phoenix

your last year

you are living with sirius in grimmauld place

petunia and vernon kicked you out once you turned 17 after finding out that was the legal age in the wizarding world

you and sirius are close

super close

i mean he is like a father figure to you

he is uncle pads again

oOO AND OK

AFTER FINDING OUT HIS DAD AND HIS BROS 😤

WERE ALL UNREGISTERED ANIMAGI

OBVIOUSLY YOU WANTED TO BE ONE TOO

youre a gazelle

it just makes sense

father figure sirius is not happy when he finds out

uncle pads, however, couldn't be happier

its finally starting to feel like a family again

you and harry have sirius

aLSO REMUS

icon

anyway

everything is falling into place

you and harry are filling the james sized hole in Sirius’ heart (not completely but it’s better)

and he is doing the same for you two

you and harry love your uncle pads

then the battle in the department of mysteries happens

youre there

you see it

you watch as bellatrix hits sirius with a curse

youre not sure which

nothing too serious you hope, and seeing that he’s still standing he should be fine

but then he stumbles

she's stunned him perhaps

and he makes eye contact with you

there was a look so final, so sad

yet so relieved in his eyes as you watched him fall through the veil

remus grabbed harry

tonks held you

if she hadn’t been you knew you would've thrown yourself into the veil after him

its a whirlwind from then on let me tell you

so we know what happens

all that fun stuff

the war hits

harry, hermione, and ron leave

youre left with the weasley’s

it’s hard being away from harry

not knowing if he was ok

if he was even alive

you guys finally reunite at shell cottage

bill calls you the second he sees harry, hermione, ron, and dobby apparate in front of his house

you were quick to pull harry into a bone crushing hug

keen on never letting go

because after all he is still (and always will be) your baby brother

you guys are all at the battle of hogwarts

oK WAIT

YOU REFUSE TO LET HARRY WALK TO HIS DEATH ALONE

ALSO YOUVE FIGURED WHAT HE PLANS ON DOING BUT NEITHER OF YOU HAVE SAID ANYTHING

NOT WANTING TO ACCEPT THAT THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME YOU GUYS SEE EACH OTHER

AND THE RESURRECTION STONE COMES OUT

BOTH YOU AND HARRY ARE HOLDING ONTO IT

AND SUDDENLY

SIRIUS

REMUS

THERE ALL THERE

EVEN A WOMAN WITH RED HAIR

AND A MAN WHO LOOKS PAINFULLY FAMILIAR

ok so hear me out

i think harry enjoyed looking at pictures of james and lily

but you didnt

you didnt want to see everything that was taken from you

so you weren’t super aware of what your dad actually looked like seeing as you avoided pictures of him and your mom like the plague

but you just knew

and james was standing there

beaming

and he just looked so proud of you and harry

so did lily

she was the first one to say something

“Your father and I are so proud of the both of you”

and you just broke down

james right there with you

he watched as you sobbed, choking on your cries

and he couldn’t do anything about it

he couldn’t hold you or comfort you

he couldn’t be a dad

and it broke him

as much as it could break a dead man

“you’ve grown so beautiful, darling” he'd smile sadly

his voice seemed to bring back all of your memories once lost

“have you always been here, with us?”

“always.”

“typical, your father shows up and everyone forgets about uncle padfoot”

both you and harry laugh at that

but the mood was somber

harry then speaks up

“does it hurt?”

it was the first time either of you had confirmed that you both knew what was going to happen

“dying? not at all, quicker than falling asleep.”

“will you stay with me?”

“until the very end.

james is the one who answers, looking teary eyes at his son

and you know you cant go any further

harry has to do this alone

its quite symbolic actually

the one time you'd let go of the reigns

removed the protective arms you had around your baby brother

he’d die

but you had to do it

so everything goes as planned

harry dies

comes back

we love a resurrecting king

and the war ends

when you got back home from the war

let’s say you are still living at grimmauld place seeing as it was left to you

the first thing you do is go through old photos with harry

any and everything you can get your hands on

you see your mother’s sparkling green eyes

the same eyes your brother had

and your father’s unruly mop of curls

the same wave pattern in your dark hair

everything finally felt right

tags:

@pogueslandia

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@fullofsourgrapes

#harry potter x sister!reader #james potter headcanon #harry potter headcanon #potter!reader

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bitesizedjosh · 3 years ago

Text

Raise Your Flags - jmk

Word Count: 2553 Warnings: None Tags: Fluff, Angst

One of the biggest differences between you and Josh was his ability to navigate any emotional situation. While he grew up in a house that promoted a healthy relationship with feelings, you lived in a house that did quite the opposite. He was taught to express, and you were taught to suppress. Even at your age it was still a difficult thing for you to balance. You had a hard time expressing your emotions properly- confusing one emotion for another, reacting much larger than you needed to in order to build a wall for yourself, etc. It also created some difficulty for you when reading other people’s emotions. If your own feelings were confused in your head, how could you be sure what others were showing was what they actually felt?

Lucky for you, Josh was patient, and always did what he could to make you feel more comfortable with these things. Which is why before you guys were dating, early on in your friendship, he introduced you to the flag system. He had done some research when you guys started hanging out, things he could do to help you navigate your feelings.

The flag system was built on being able to boil down what you needed from your partner during these situations into one word: green, yellow, orange, or red. Lift a hand, say a color, and based on your limits- both mentally and emotionally- you and your partner would change the way you were handling whatever you guys were dealing with.

It was a tried and true system, and something you used frequently.

-----

>>Green: ??? Yellow: ??? Orange: ??? Red: ???

“So, I was thinking we could eat at that little outdoor cafe we passed by the other day?” You asked.

You had been on tour with Josh for the past month and a half. You wouldn’t be staying for the whole thing- the tour was almost a year long and you sadly had a life to get back to eventually. But you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see the world with your love. Seeing him perform almost every night was just a bonus.

It was your six month anniversary though you had known each other for far longer. While you wanted to celebrate, you also didn’t want to do anything too crazy since you two had been so tired lately. Being with each other was celebration enough, so you opted to keep the day simple. Normally, the boys would join you for a day out, but they agreed to let you two lovebirds have the day to yourselves to wander the city hand in hand.

“That sounds good to me.” he responded, a smile gracing his face. You pulled you into a hug, arms around your waist, his chinning resting on the top of your head. You swayed back and forth for a few minutes, listening to him sing to you softly. Sometimes, he just wanted to hold you, and you were okay with that.

When you finally got to the cafe, you were relieved to see it was pretty empty. If it was as full as it was the other day, you wouldn’t have been able to get a table.

Once you were led to your table, Josh sat down on one side of the booth, and you took the other side so you could look at him. A habit you had yet to break. You found something on the menu you’d order pretty quickly, while Josh took his take. This was the perfect opportunity to soak up his features- something you weren’t sure you’d ever get tired of.

You decided it wasn’t enough so you got up and sat next to him on his side. You slid until you were pressed right up against his side. He instantly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and turned to press a kiss to your temple.

He started to turn back to his menu, and with a chuckle said, “You’re clingy today.”

You tensed. The smile on his face made it clear he hadn’t meant it in a bad way, but those words had been maliciously thrown at you before by people you’d rather forget, and you weren’t quite able to see past that. You went to put some distance between you two, but before you could, Josh’s grip on your body tightened.

He turned towards you again, raising a hand to your face to make you look up at him.

“Green.”

Relief flooded your body.

“I’m sorry. That was a bad choice of words. I do like you clingy though. I could never get enough of you, mama.” He said, wrapping his other arm around you as best as he could in a booth, and gave you a tight squeeze.

-----

Green: Everything’s okay. Proceed as normal. >>Yellow: ??? Orange: ??? Red: ???

You heard the laughter the second you opened the front door. You walked through the helm, taking off your shoes to leave them on the shoe rack before proceeding deeper into Josh’s house. The day you had really taken a toll on you, so you snuck up to his room to take a quick shower. After changing into some of your clothes that you had left here previously, you made your way to the living room.

“-and then when the love interest died, I swear she was never gonna stop crying. Poor thing went through so many tissues.” Josh’s voice made you stop in your tracks before you made it into the living room. The boys’ howling laughter only got louder, something you didn't think was possible. You remembered the moment he was recounting- it was a week before your one year anniversary. Cramps had you couch-ridden, and Josh cleared his schedule to spend the day with you watching as many movies as you could.

“Oh, come on! That movie wasn’t even that sad.” Jake said.

“No, I know, I know. But there was nothing I could do, she was on her period, and she always cries at movies.” It was true. You had been on your period, and you did always cry at movies, even when they weren’t really sad. But that didn’t stop the irritating feeling that began climbing your spine. Telling a funny story about your partner was one thing, but did he need to include the embarrassing details?

You walked into the living room, seeing the boys drinking, which would explain Josh’s slight lack of filter- not that he had one to begin with. Your anger lessened, but didn’t dissipate fully. You took a seat on the couch next to him, greeting the rest of the boys.

After that, you were silent most of the night, letting out a laugh or a nod every now and then to make it seem like you were present. You were too busy mentally reminding yourself that Josh likely didn’t have any ill intent when telling that story. Also, you had no reason to be embarrassed by it anyways, periods were a normal bodily function.

Before you knew it, everyone else had left and just Josh and you were left. You had been so zoned out, you didn’t realize it until Josh sat back down on the couch next to you, turning to face you.

“What’s wrong, mama? You didn’t say a word all night.” He asked with concern in his eyes.

You blinked a few times, not having an answer yet. You knew you were angry, you knew why, but you couldn’t get it out for some reason.

Josh raised his eyebrows expectantly, eyes roaming your face. After a moment, he spoke up again. “Flag?”

“Yellow,” you said with no hesitation.

Josh let out a sigh of relief, grateful to hear it. “Alright, we can work with that. C’mon.” He moved scooted towards the other end of the couch, and pulled you so your head was in your lap. His hands found your head, and began playing with your hair. He knew he would have an easier time getting your feelings out clearly if you were relaxed. Heavy eye contact would only be a hindrance.

“I don’t even know why I’m mad. It’s dumb.” You said, playing with your fingers.”

“No, no. Your feelings are valid, whatever they are. Don’t dismiss yourself. Tell me when you’re ready.” He said quietly.

You took a few minutes. On a surface level, you knew your feelings were valid. But that also didn’t stop the slight shame you felt for being upset over something so trivial. It probably hadn’t even been so much as an afterthought in the boy’s minds, but it consumed your whole night. Focusing on the sound of Josh’s breathing, you collected your thoughts.

“I dunno. I just didn’t really like how you told the story to the guys about me being emotional on my period. It’s nothing really.” You mumbled.

Josh took a moment before replying. “I’m sorry. I hope you know I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I thought it was a cute story. What about it made you feel upset?” You knew he was asking not only so he could avoid repeating that mistake, but also so you could work through your own feelings on the matter. “I guess I just didn’t feel comfortable with you mentioning my period. It kinda made me seem like an emotional mess. God, this is so dumb!” You let out a small laugh, covering your face with your hands. You felt juvenile for being embarrassed.

With your hands blocking your sight, you couldn’t see Josh looking down at you, pride overflowing from his face. You were talking through your feelings with him, and he’d never get over getting to be there for you during that, no matter the circumstances.

He let himself indulge in taking in your appearance, before removing your hands from your face. “It’s not dumb, mama. I’m proud of you for working through your emotions. I know it can be complicated. I’ll take more care in my story telling from now on, okay?”

-----

Green: Everything’s okay. Proceed as normal. Yellow: It’s a little rocky, but I want to talk through it. >>Orange: ??? Red: ???

You stormed through the front door of your shared home with Josh. You threw your shoes on the floor, not bothering to stand them neatly on the shoe rack. You were angrily discarding clothes as you walked further into the house, letting things drop wherever they may.

When all your winter gear was discarded, you let out a huff and sat on the couch, Josh finally entering the house. Closing the door behind him, he didn’t even take the time to kick his shoes off before following your trail to the living room.

“And what the fuck was that? Are you seriously throwing a tantrum right now?” He spat in your direction.

“A tantrum? A tantrum,” You let out a laugh. “Okay. Sure. Well forgive me for being upset that a random woman was all over my fiance and he didn’t care.”

“That’s not fair and you know it! She was a fan, she just wanted a picture-”

You stood up from the couch, cutting him off. “Yeah and when her hands started roaming you should have put a stop to it. But no, you reveled in her affection. Hell, by the time she put her lips on you, it’s like you forgot I even existed,” You argued, crossing your arms.

“Don’t act like I welcomed it. I was stunned when she kissed me, I didn’t see it coming. Security stepped in immediately. You saw that.”

“Security shouldn’t have had to step in, you should have! Do you not get that? Forget the band, forget security, forget the fans. If some guy came up to me, and started touching me, kissing me, how would you feel?”

“That’s different-”

“Why? Because I’m not a celebrity? I don’t get some free pass to do whatever the hell I want?” You spat. You knew it wasn’t going to help your case, but you wanted him to understand.

“Orange.”

A beat of silence passed before you turned and walked up the stairs to your shared bedroom. You walked into your closet, grabbing a duffel bag. You began shoving clothes into it, not even bothering to take them off the hangers. You grabbed some stuff from your dresser and bathroom. He wanted space, you’d give him space.

You walked back downstairs passing Josh on the staircase. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He asked.

“You said orange, I’m giving you what you want.”

“Jesus, I just meant that, like, I’m gonna go sit on the porch in the backyard or something, you don’t have to leave.”

“Well, I want to. I don’t want to look at you right now. This’ll be better for both of us anyways. Maybe this will give you time to figure out what you want.” You took a few more steps down the stairs, but paused to look back at him. “I’ll be at Miranda’s. I’ll text you when I get there, so you know I’m safe. Talk later. I love you.”

-----

Green: Everything’s okay. Proceed as normal. Yellow: It’s a little rocky, but I want to talk through it. Orange: We need to take a step back to work through our thoughts. We’ll talk after they’re sorted. >>Red: ???

“Red,” You whispered, tears in your eyes. “Red, red, red!” You repeated, getting louder each time you said it. You didn’t care that you were yelling. You didn’t care that hundreds of eyes were on you.

“I hate you. This isn’t fair,” You mumbled, leaning closer to him. You looked at him, starting at his head. His hair, every curl perfectly in place. You skipped over his face, wanting to avoid his eyes. The suit he was wearing made you livid. You wanted to rip it off of him. This wasn’t him, your Josh wouldn’t wear this. It was boring, it fit in too well, the material wouldn’t be comfortable on his skin. Your eyes continued, landing on the wedding band on his left hand.

Your own hands subconsciously went to the matching ring you wore, toying with it. You placed a hand on the table next to you to keep yourself from collapsing as you let out another heart-wrenching cry. Someone came up behind you, placing their hand on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. A squeeze that was full of pity, meant to console you. But it wouldn’t. Nothing could.

You braced yourself to take one last look at him- at his face. You studied it. His eyes closed. His facial hair is neatly trimmed. Not a hint of pain anywhere.

Reaching around your own neck, you pulled off a set of his mala beads- his favorite, actually.

“Red,” you whispered, one more time, to make a point no one was listening to. You leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on his forehead.

With shaking hands, you placed the beads neatly on his chest, before turning to walk away from the casket, avoiding the stares and condolences of all of Josh’s loved ones.

-----

#josh kiszka #bitesizedjosh #josh kiszka headcannon #josh kiszka gvf #gvf #fluff #angst #josh kiszka imagine

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echo-of-sounds · 4 years ago

Text

pregnancy

Small headcanons of how Aizawa, Toshinori, Hizashi, Fatgum, Gang Orca, and Hound Dog would be through your pregnancy.

I don’t write about giving birth (as I’m mildly terrified of doing so) so I didn’t add anything about that. Please don’t ask for me to. And even though I’m not interested in getting pregnant, I think I’d be okay with it if Kugo or Ryo were the father.

EDIT: I love picturing all of these men with little girls. It’s just so cute!

Warnings: uh, pregnancy

Aizawa Shouta

Shouta isn’t one to jump for joy when you tell him. However, you will get to see his handsome smile when he grabs your waist, breathing out a light laugh of happiness as he tightly hugs you. His smile won’t disappear for a while. Every time he glances at you, one simply finds its way onto his face.

It may not be by a whole lot, but his behavior changes. Just a little. When you’re out and about, his hand finds its way to your back or elbow much more often, particularly in a crowd. It’s the paternal instincts kicking in. His favorite cuddling position, laying between your legs with his head on your stomach, becomes harder the farther along you are. He adjusts to laying behind you, keeping a hand on your tummy throughout the entire night.

Shouta hides his worries well. Even the people closest to him have a tough time telling what exactly is going on with him. Sometimes, it’s a good thing. He’s a stable person to lean on. But it’s difficult to deal with when you’re hormonal and emotional. He pushes himself so hard to speak more. There’s no way of him understanding everything you’re going through, but when he opens up, he can tell just how much you appreciate it during the tough times. So he does it near-daily, checking in with each other before bed.

He hates how busy his life is. Well, he’s always kind of hated it. Now it’s worse because his partner’s pregnant, and he’s stuck in a room with screaming children when he should be bringing you to your appointments. Shouta attempts to make up for the absence by heading home every night and helping around the house more. Step in. Explain how you value his help, but also need him to relax. If he gets overworked, that would only stress you more.

Shouta changes his eating habits and fitness routines. He wants you to eat well for yourself and your child. He wants you to keep exercising for yourself and your child. He simply wants your body to be healthy. Don’t grumble because he’ll throw your complaining back in your face when the Lamaze coach explains how important physical health is. But don’t worry, his cute smile makes up for the teasing.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori is starstruck. Too many thoughts flood and fight. He loves children and has always wanted a family. Being able to father one with you is indescribable. And he never thought the universe would grant any of that. On the flip side, his fear is also undefinable. People know who he is now; who knows what’s out there, waiting to expose All Might’s weakness. The rapid thoughts may bring a tear or two. Cup his face and kiss them away, reassuring him that everything’s okay.

The fears follow him throughout your pregnancy. Like all things (with you and him), there are good days and bad days. His emotions ramp-up during your emotional and physically unwell days. He tries his best to push them down to focus on you. But they eventually end up spilling over. It’ll be common for both of you to cry at the end of the day, snuggled together, talking about the future, worries, and anticipations.

In general, Toshinori isn’t that protective. He trusts you and your abilities. Just because you’re pregnant, doesn’t mean you’re suddenly disabled. You can still do things. Although, he does become a bit of a helicopter. Whenever you bend over to pick up a bag, he beats you to it. He swoops the laundry basket from your hands, claiming, ‘You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things,’ despite it not even being ten pounds. He’s just very watchful of your movements.

He’s very active in dieting, doctor’s appointments, and planning. He eats well, so it’s easy for him to aid you in that respect. For doctors, he has quite a lot of contacts and knows many doctors from his time in the hospital. He asks around, only accepting the best for you. Planning, shopping, and setting up the nursery are his favorite parts. He loves choosing the sweetest colors, softest blankets, and, of course, all the adorable All Might onesies, toys, and superhero books he can find. The nursery is set up perfectly.

Toshinori doesn’t admit how incredibly your pregnant body enchants him. It isn’t always a horny, sexual need. It’s about admiring your body and what it’s creating. He just wonders at you. All the time. Sometimes the changes may make you feel insecure. He’s always there to listen and assure you how amazing your body is. If you want cuddles and kisses, he’ll give them with a smile. If you want gentle lovemaking, he guides you onto your back and gives you exactly what you want.

Yamada Hizashi

Expect a loud song of love, a bear hug, and jumping for joy when you tell him. Hizashi loves kids. He thinks they’re amazing and say some of the greatest things. And he’s beyond excited to see their quirk. Of course, it doesn’t mean he’ll love them any less if they’re born quirkless. He just loves imagining a little one with a similar quirk running around your place.

He is all about redecorating and planning. The entire apartment is getting babyfied and rearranged. The nursery will be beautifully painted. He regularly comes home with cute outfits and stuffed animals. Partly, it’s because he’s just so excited. The other part is he wants you to relax through the pregnancy. No stress, pressure, and unnecessary burden on your shoulders. He’s there to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.

Hizashi doesn’t just spoil your unborn child; he spoils you, buying you those pregnancy pillows, your favorite ice cream, driving you everywhere, etc… He just hates how much time his jobs take. He’d rather spend his time with you. To help, he’ll ask for time off of patrols, choosing to be closer with you, physically, mentally, and emotionally, during your pregnancy.

In the later months, Hizashi is all over you. Seriously, he will not leave you alone. He’s very handsy, kneading and licking your swollen, sore breasts, and stroking your belly. Your body, and everything it’s doing, is utterly gorgeous to him. He’ll suck away, gently nursing on your nipple while dozing off to Tv, occasionally switching to the other so it isn’t left needy.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

When you tell Taishiro, you’ll only be able to get out a few words before you’re lifted off your feet and spun around. He smooches all over your face, laughing and cheering about how amazing and perfect and stunning you are. You’ll have to ask to be put down lest you get sick from all his spinning. But his compliments keep coming. They won’t dwindle for a while. There’s just too much love in his body to keep inside.

Whatever you’re craving, no matter if it’s pineapple dipped in ketchup, he gives without complaint. He may try some of your odd combinations. Who knows? You could be on to something new. At the same time, he also watches out for your health. The cravings suck. He understands that. He truly does. But if you ate something sweet/not as healthy for lunch, then he plans a healthy dinner for you. Your body’s going crazy. It needs its nutrients.

Your worries are always taken seriously. It could be the most absurd thing to be anxious over. Tai always listens. His cute smile and never-ending positivity help a ton. Your body and brain are going through a lot. He’ll do his part to validate all your feelings. He talks down the anxieties as you eat pickles on ice cream, making sure you are and feel heard.

Since he works one job compared to the others, he’s able to be with you much more, notably during the hard-to-handle days and at appointments. And he picks up extra chores so you can rest through aches and pains. Any choices you make regarding your pregnancy and birth, he supports. He may not agree with everything, but he loves you, and it’s your body. He’ll always put your comfort and wishes first.

Tai treasured your tummy before. But now, seeing you growing with his child, he’s absolutely enraptured. He places nightly and morning kisses on your belly. When he wakes you up, his kisses trail down to the bump. Every night, he rubs lotion into your tummy, kissing and cooing to his child. It doesn’t matter if you’re only one week pregnant, and it’s just a clump of cells in there. Tai still sings to them.

Gang Orca

Kugo is in disbelief when you tell him. He freezes, staring, hardly hearing your words. Give him five minutes. He’ll process what you said and snap back to the present. Watch out because you’re going to get lifted high into the air and maybe tossed like a father does a baby. He’s just practicing. It’ll only take one or two days for him to slip into paternal mode. It’s damn near instinct for him.

As per usual, he’s a gentle paragon behind closed doors. Throughout your pregnancy, he melts into a puddle of sweet honey. His overall affection skyrockets. His hands and claws are as tender as possible whenever they touch you, doing whatever you need him to: massaging your back and legs, rubbing lotion all over, or brushing your hair. He reassures you through tears. He prepares healthy meals that satisfy your cravings. And he holds you all night, keeping you safe on his chest and in his arms.

Kugo goes to every single checkup and appointment. It doesn’t matter if it’s just an ordinary visit to your primary care doctor; he calls out of work and goes with you. At any ultrasounds, expect a few tears, especially when you hear the heartbeat for the first time. He holds them in until you’re alone. The second the door closes, his forehead is nudging yours as small, loved-filled tears fall. He never thought he’d get a family. Part of him thought he didn’t deserve a family, but you’ve proven that false repeatedly.

The farther along you are, the more he watches out for you. He checks in every morning to make sure you took your medicine and vitamins. He washes you so you don’t strain yourself. If you’re waddling, he offers his arm for support and helps you stand. If your back hurts, he applies a heating patch to your lower back and puts your shoes on for you. If you need it, he can carry you to the car and into where you’re going.

As does everyone, Kugo has doubts about his quirk and abilities. People have always viewed those with mutations differently. And it can affect their health, leading to numerous doctor visits and tests. He doesn’t want his baby to deal with the staring, whispers, self-doubts, and distress he did. To support him, talk in detail about his fears and help him realize he’s never disappointed you or hurt anyone. Kugo’s exactly how he should be.

Hound Dog

Ryo doesn’t have a tail, but you’ll definitely see a little happy wiggly before he hugs you. The following week, he keeps you close as he acts differently: rubbing up against you to ensure you smell like him, touching your nose with his, lapping along your neck, sleeping incredibly close, and occasionally smelling between your legs, licking the air around there to smell better. It’s awkward, almost weird, since it isn’t average ‘human’ behavior. But if you love him, let him do it. Please. Understand his nose works differently. It reassures and comforts him to smell you, checking in to see if anything’s changed.

Ryo gets protective when you’re on your period: When you’re pregnant, it’s so, so incredibly worse. He hovers, grumbling low at those walking by. Others barely hear it. It’s intense enough for you to feel it when he’s behind you. He doesn’t like people running up to you, or startling you, or roughhousing or playing in any way. He’s lenient with children, less with teens. Women get a deep growl and scowl. God help any man that approaches you. You might have to have him wear his Hero outfit’s muzzle until you give birth. Though, that might not help because then he’d be protective of two people.

It’s only the teensiest amount better at home. He makes you rest, almost too much. After work or some time outside, he shuffles you to the couch so you can’t overwork yourself. He’s a pleasant change of pace from his typical gruff self. However, as great as he is at the physical needs, he still struggles with the emotional aspects. You can cry on his shoulder, complain, and talk about your worries all you need to. He’s just a bit clunky when it comes to reciprocating the soft emotions. But he puts all his heart into it, and it’s easy to tell.

Ryo is also one who loves pregnancy sexy. You’re swollen and sensitive, and he loves watching your breasts bounce, maybe even leak a little depending on how far along you are. And since you’re already pregnant, he releases and stays inside. After, he lays behind you, keeping himself deep in you despite being flaccid, just feeling how wet and aroused and full you are because of him. When the heated moment is finally done, he licks you clean, nearly getting drunk off your smell.

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felswritingfire · 4 years ago

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(Hades) Gods x Shade! Reader

No matter how much you try, mortality will always catch up to those who are not of gods. Even the most blinded of them learn this eventually. You take your death with grace, choosing to go and explore this new world as soon as Lord Hades permits you to go, impressed by how little you complain and demand. You are one of the brighter parts of his day (night?).

You drift along, catching certain snippets of other Shade’s conversations as you wander aimlessly. You notice a crack in the wall; deciding to muster up your courage, you slip through it to find yourself in the glowing green torches of Tartarus. With what little you have, you hold it close to your translucent body and push forward.

You’re quick to notice the large glowing ball with an oddly familiar symbol floating in the middle of it. You take your time circling it, feeling compelled to touch it. When you do, a beam of light comes slicing through the dreary air to reveal a mighty god who stares down at you at your shocked form...

Zues

Cause of Death: Lightning Strike

Zues is confused when he sees you. He’s even more confused when you start screaming at him, waving your hands about and threatening to fight him yourself.

“You fucker! You killed me!”

He raises a brow. “I think I’d remember if I killed you.” You flipped up your middle finger at him and his eyebrows drew into an angry v. “How rude! I am the God of Gods-”

“I don’t care!”

Zagreus had to high tail it to you before Zues tried to smite you (possibly a second time).

Suffice to say you hoped you’d never bump into that boon again. And you didn’t. No, the God of Gods and Lightning himself decided that he’d have to make a house call himself (Hades was not pleased when a bolt of lightning came crashing down and left a scorched black ring in the carpet).

He picks you out quickly and you try to zoom out of the lobby until he catches you by the back of your robe and then you’re swinging and yelling profanities at him. He’s kinda amused now instead of angry- you’re just so weak and tiny compared to him. It’s hysterical- ow! Did you just bite him?

After you and Zues finish your little “spitting match”- Hades kicks Zeus out and you're forced to hang out in Tartarus for a bit (“but I’m just a simple fisherfolk! I can’t fight anything!” You cry, Hades does not spare you a look as you're dragged out by Meg).

You think maybe that’s the end until you’re approached by a… a squirrel? You almost punt it when his voice spills out as he shoots into a long prattle about how much of a jerk Hades was and how he couldn’t handle someone as grandiose as him appearing before him. Threatened him as a god or something- you were busy trying to figure out how you were going to kill this guy and make sure he stayed dead.

Turns out, after the two of you chattered (argued) a bit about whether or not he actually killed you, Zeus had some neat stories about the gods.

While you were interested in his children’s and brothers’ and sisters’ stories, he was interested in your stories of the mundane. A simple fisherfolk? That was a word? You just fished and traded? Amazing! Tell him more!

After this particular interaction between the two of you, Zeus really ended liking you. Maybe a little too much, but, aw well, it wasn’t everyday a mortal soul had the balls to argue with him for something he doesn’t remember doing (he probably did. Probably. Most likely). He swore that he’d come and see you everyday as he sat on your shoulder as a squirrel, going on and on about how you should feel blessed to be praised by one such as he. You were about to throw him until a giant hand came out and grabbed him (seemed you drifted too close to Lord Hades’ desk), the hulking god flinging him out of a portal.

He continues to pop up and bother you and, to be honest, he’s kinda growing on you. Also, I’m gonna be frank and lay it out that, if he likes you enough, he’s probs gonna want to smash, especially if you lean more towards the feminine side (he’s fucking AWFUL). It’s up to you if you wanna indulge that or not, I don’t recommend it, but you can if you really want to.

We’re going with the option you don’t smash- he’ll be salty at you for a whole ass day before he comes back the one after that as a rat (Hades kept finding out his forms that he used to sneak in so it was an ever constant menagerie of appearances to keep up the disguise) and is like: “I thought you would miss me too much so I came back before you could even complain.”

Zag likes to watch the two of you interact because he finds it absolutely fascinating. It’s like watching… He doesn’t know what it’s like but he’s having a blast as you roast his uncle to bits. It really helps him out when he’s feeling a bit down after failing getting out one too many times.

When you first get Zeus an Ambrosia, he thinks it’s poison and then he gets all prideful because of course you would give him an offering, he was the strongest of all the gods! Him and him alone!

“Silly, mortal, you cannot poison me! I am a god.”

You squint your eyes at him before you huff and pull the bottle closer to you. “Fine, whatever, I’ll just give it to Zagreus- or better yet, Hades if you don’t want it.”

“No! No! I want it! Give it to me! It’s mine!”

During this time, he’s actually experiencing some purer emotions in life- he’s genuinely giddy that you got him the Ambrosia and asks how you got it. You hold up a makeshift fishing rod and grin at him, telling him you snatched it from some nasty shades before you wandered back down to Tartarus.

His gift to you is a little lightning pin that, when you're in danger, will send a nasty bolt of lightning down on your enemies. You wonder what good it’ll do since you’re dead already, but shrug and accept it, thinking that he looks years younger and friendler when his smile isn’t packed full of ego and pride.

Poseidon

Cause of Death: Drowning

Poseidon, Lord of the Oceans, Earthquakes, and many other things, is simply- how do you say? Amused? It’s the best way to describe it at least. Of course he was mostly surprised when he appeared expecting the Little Hades to be waiting for him just to meet a Little Shade in his place.

“Why, hello there, Little Shade! You wouldn’t happen to know where the Little Hades is, would you?”

You shake your head, he doesn’t miss the way you nervously play with your hands, drifting back as some of his droplets float close to you.

He laughs at your simple reply. “Shy one aren’t you?” He leans closer to you, squinting and running a hand through his beard while he hummed.

You fight the urge to take a step back, the smell of salt water making your stomach churn.

His eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath. He takes a moment before he opens his eyes again and a look of understanding flashes across his eyes. “You drowned. Didn’t you?”

You stare up at him, eyes round and glassy. You nod.

Before your conversation can go any further, Zagreus comes running through the window, surprised to see his Uncle talking to a Shade (you look so scared- he hopes that you aren’t being bullied). You’re quick to take your leave bowing to both and passing the boon to the Prince before you scurry away into the cover of the other Shades.

He hums to himself, a cryptid smile on his face as his eyes follow after you. Such a strange little thing you were- he wouldn’t mind seeing you again.

It takes a bit, but he does happen to see you again, by peaking through a fountain in a fountain room in the Underworld. He spies you trying to poke at the water that he happened to choose, but jumping back each time. You face scrunched up into one of pure frustration. He asks if you’re doing alright there, Little Shade? Causing you to flash out of existence for a moment before settling back down and looking into the pool with wide eyes. Posiedon almost busts a gut with how hard he’s laughing and you huff telling him that it wasn’t funny.

He says otherwise, but asks what you’re doing. When your face bursts into a large blush you mumble something that he doesn’t quite catch and he’s left with more questions than answers as you take the chance to phase out of the chamber when Zag walks in and steals his Uncle’s attention for a split second. He furrows his brow before asking his nephew about you, which Zag, surprisingly, supplies rather quickly, seeing as the two of you talk a lot: apparently you’re deathly afraid of water after you were thrown into the ocean by your supposed best friend. The memories of the waves crushing you deeper and deeper beneath them sticking with you even in death. So, you were trying to curb that phobia. Posiedon nods, letting the words sink in before he offers the Little Hades a thumbs up and says he’ll help with that.

The next time you see the god, he’s eager to call you over and explain that he’s figured out what you were doing last time and offers to let you mess with some of the drops of water that follow him wherever he goes. You stare at them, eyebrows furrowed and looking just as sick as a shade could look. Yet, you still nod your head and hold out a shaky hand. He smiles at you, praising you for your courage and flicks one towards you; it floats gently before it rests serenely on your palm, allowing you to feel the cool sensation of the droplet. You marvel at it, still shaking with an anxiety before you nod. He pulls it away, it shoots back to rest next to his head and you thank him for going out of his way to help you and ease your fears.

He remarks that you should fear the water out of respect: it’s unpredictable, terrifying in it’s own right- vast and, seemingly, never ending, what could possibly be more terrifying than the unknown, hm? He continues to say that you should also hold onto a bit of bravery at the very least, for untold treasures come from there for those who look.

After that conversation, Poseidon makes it a habit of having you hold onto his droplets of water, making them slightly bigger each time for you to get used to them.

By the time you’re able to touch them freely without experiencing crippling fear- the droplets are almost the size of you. Poseidon praises you the more you grow out of your fear.

You do eventually open up to him about how you died and he never tells you that he already knew. Just allows you to talk in a soft voice as you recall it. It’s a nice bonding experience for the both of you and Posideon decides that you’re his favorite Shade and he’ll treasure you for as long as you exist.

The first time you get him a bottle of Ambrosia, you come to him shivering and sopping wet. He’s confused and concerned as he hovers to you.

“What happened to you, Little Shade? Are you alright?”

It takes you a moment to be able to speak. “I- I found a bottle of Ambrosia. I thought-” you take a deep breath, holding out the bottle with both hands- “I thought you’d like it.”

It’s one of his prized possessions now, he takes little sips of it once in a while, but other than that it remains as one of his most precious memories. He’s very attached to you at this point and you’ll forever have his blessing. His gift to you, aside from the undying loyalty, is a shell necklace, if you ever need him- you only need to whisper his name to it and he’ll appear in an instant.

Athena

Cause of Death: Exhaustion

Athena had been prepared to meet with Zagreus- not a curious shade staring back up at her with all the relevance of one of her worshippers.

“What business do you have with me?”

She raises her brow at your gobsmacked expression, watching as you screw your face up before bowing. “Apologies, m’lady, I only happened to bump into your…” you look at where it glows, furrowing your eyebrow, “your orb?”

“Boon.”

You nod your head in understanding before bowing your head again. “Again, my sincerest apologies.”

Luckily, she didn’t smite you, instead asking the question of how you were even talking to her. Getting a shrug from you, you say that maybe it’s because you worshipped her (unofficially, you were never able to make it up to her shrine much to your disappointment) when you were alive- maybe a deeper bond is there compared to someone who had never prayed to her for her protection and guidance.

When she hears this, she’s very interested, pressing you to elaborate further when the Young Prince comes jogging out of the glowing window, waving to you. You slink away, passing the boon to him and bowing to her once again before you disappear into the mass of Shades that choose to wander their new home as well.

After the conversation, you had caught the Goddess’ attention, planting a desire in her to see you again. Even going as far as to write a letter to ask her uncle for a council with you after a week passed of her placing her boon in Tartarus so that maybe you would drift too close to it once again. But each time only the little prince would find them (which she was fine with, but it still left such an unflattering taste of defeat on her tongue each time it wasn’t you). She figured it would be a moot point to send the letter, but it was worth a try.

But she decided to place her boon down once more before she sent it out. Just to try. And this time it worked.

You were the one she saw and she was absolutely delighted- not that she showed it, choosing to keep her stoic and sharp expression. You greet her in a similar way before: awed before bowing your head to her. You continue to go on about how you're happy to see her again and, despite how little you had been buried with, you hoped that she would take this- a broken sword, despite the worn hilt and the deep scars the littered what was left of the flat of the balde; it was still polished (at least what was left of it)- as a proper offering to her for all she had done in your life- even if it truly wasn’t all her doings.

She takes the sword in her hand, holding it high, her eyes shining as she studies it: truly, it was a warrior’s blade. She watches as the history and memories flash in the smooth iron. She remarks that it is a remarkable offering, but she cannot accept it. It feels wrong taking a weapon of a warrior such as yourself.

You smile as her, shaking your head, urging her to take it, for you didn’t need that blade in this afterlife. You had already fought your battles, killing the man who you had been battling with and quelling the rage that had followed you since you were a child for revenge. Eventually, dying from the strain of the fight with a feeling of contentedness.

Athena raises her brow, remarking how that sounded more along the lines of Ares rather than her.

You nod, but say that you couldn’t help but desire her help for she was the goddess attached to your favorite animal. She had to fight the urge to laugh, a shaky smile slipping through as she nods at you. Such a silly thing you are. She decides that she’ll take the sword as a reminder of you, no matter where you should go now. She also decides that you were forming a rather soft cradle in her heart.

After this, she is quick to ask Zagreus about you every chance she gets- not that he minds too much, he tells her about how you’ve been helping him train and you’ve even told him about your life when you were alive (“a general, can you believe that? They’re so young!” Zagreus says as he shows her the new move you taught him). She’s only the slightest bit miffed at hearing that you and Achilles have begun to form a sweet friendship. She’s pleased to hear that his father has been trying to barter with you to get you into Elysium, though she’s a tad confused on the reason you refuse to.

She asks you about it one day and you say that it would take longer to see her and you would prefer to avoid that. It was the only time the goddess has ever had to fight down a blush.

When you get her a bottle of Ambrosia, she’s in pure awe at the huge bottle.

“How did you get one this big?”

You lean against the new sword you managed to get your hands on- something simple and obviously used- you offer her a lopsided grin. “Well, not just any Ambrosia would work, so I decided to try my luck with Lord Theseus and, The Great Bull, Asterius. Took me a couple of tries but I managed to beat them and snag it.”

Athena smiles warmly at it, telling you that she’ll treasure it and think of you every time she takes a drink of it. She realizes in that moment just how important you had become to her, never feeling this… soft for a mortal soul in her life. Her gift to you is a shield and a new sword: the shield bares her symbol of an owl while the sword was ornate with a divine glow. She promises that no matter what they’ll protect you and so will she, you only need to call out her name.

Aphrodite

Cause of Death: A Broken Heart

When the Goddess of Love first sees you- she thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous (of course not as gorgeous as her). The sad look in your eye and the slight frown that rests on your lips makes her almost fall in love right then and there.

“Hello, little one- do you know where the little godling is?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Lady Aphrodite. I know not where he is.”

She raises her brows, a smile on her face. “How did you know I was Aphrodite, my dear?”

You look up at her, a sudden glint in your eyes has her yearning to see it once again. “No one else could be so breathtaking, my Lady.”

Oh. Oh, she likes you.

She chooses to chatter away with you- despite you mostly listening, adding little things here and there, she feels a strange sense of fullness, like she just ate a full and warm meal for the first time in a very long time, by the time Zagreus arrives. You bid your farewell and she can’t help but follow you with her gaze as your transparent form blends in with the other Shades.

Aphrodite is thrilled the next time she runs into you- or rather you run into her boon. She missed the melancholy look in your eyes, she also doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve come bearing gifts this time: an assortment of colorful flowers rests in your arms and you offer it to her. That glint coming and going like a shooting star as she accepts the offering, holding it up to her nose to take in their sweet scent. How sweet were you to hand her something so delicate.

She asks you where you got them and you remark that you made your way up to Elysium. She’s surprised to hear as such- you didn’t seem like the warrior type. You shake your head, your eyes sweeping low. You weren’t a warrior, far from it- a simple florist if anything. You just drifted until you made it up there and plucked some flowers to make bouquets. You mumble that maybe you’ll be more useful in death.

She tilts her head at the comment, beginning to ask until Zagreus is jogging up to the both of you and it was time for you to leave. She’s a tad annoyed, but reminds herself that the little godling didn’t know- simply trying to break out of this dreary place he calls home and see Olympus in all its glory. She’ll just ask next time.

You gave her another bouquet, this one more beautiful than the last, when she gets the chance to ask you her question. Your eyes pool with a mournful look as you gaze up at her, your hand resting over the place where your heart used to beat as you look to the ground. You explain that you were young when you were wed- just as you were young when you died. You were married off to someone you did not love- someone awful, vile, who beat you down daily just to build you back up so they could laugh when they toppled you over once again. You remark about how you could feel yourself dying little by little, your delicate heart bleeding as your want for life began to dwindle away. You grew sick and you would sit by the window day in and day out, staring out and wondering what your life could have been if you were married to someone you loved. A ghost of a smile blooms on your lips as you look up at her, that glint she oh-so loved twinkling in your eye as you say that you did not die in as much loneliness and pain as you could have; having been making a bouquet dedicated just to her love and sweetness: your Lady Aphrodite who you love, ever so much.

She’s shocked when she realizes the tears that drip down her cheeks, her hand coming to caress your cheek (really your head, she was hulking compared to your small form) with her fingertips. She comments that she would accept every bouquet you made and treasure each flower like it was the one you made for her with your last breaths in the living world.

After that interaction, she comes down a lot more, asking Zagreus if he could bring along her darling florist so that she could talk to you. He always obliges, loving to see the two of you chatter about (well, her chatter about, you usually just listened with a smile on your face as you used the flowers you had plucked into flower crowns for him and Lady Aphrodite). You two become a sort of comfort for him when he’s getting frustrated: seeing your usually melancholy demeanor light up as soon as the goddess appears and in turn the goddess becomes something less vain and more gentle as she speaks to you.

At some point, you’ll probably meet Ares himself- the two never that far from each other, also she adores you, so it only makes sense for you to meet him. He’s honestly a tad unimpressed when you first meet, but when he hears about the heart ache you faced he gains a sense of respect for you, remarking that love is a battle in and of itself and you fought valiantly to keep your ability to love freely (Aphrodite might convince you to have a threesome, I’m not gonna lie, she’s attracted to you on a deep level and she has her trysts with Ares- it’s perfect in her eyes. Though she won’t push you if you don’t desire it).

When you first get her Ambrosia, she’s flabbergasted before it turns into worry for how you got it and the potential danger you were in.

She takes the bottle of gold liquid and the flowers that you had so carefully arranged. Her attention, though, is focused on the said bottle of Ambrosia. “My Darling Florist, how did you get this?” Before you can answer she shoots into a flurry of questions. “Are you alright? Did anything catch you? Hurt you? You don’t seem hurt. Oooh-” she puffs her cheeks out, her gaze sharp- “why did you get me this? It’s dangerous!”

You wait for her to calm down. “I apologize for making you worry, but I simply snuck around and grabbed it from some witches- they didn’t even notice me. And I-” you tap your fingers together, a blush blooming across your face as you look away from the goddess and she decides that she craves seeing that expression on you again- “I thought that you deserved it. It’s a much better offering than my silly bouquets.”

Well, aside from the ‘silly bouquets’ comment (which she corrects you on very quickly), she’s absolutely flattered and it might be the final nail in the coffin that has her falling for you, the little shade in front of her. She decides that you hold a piece of her heart in your translucent hands, though she chooses to keep that information to herself.

Her gift to you is a hairpin that matches hers, though if you don’t have enough hair- she says, you can always pin it to your robe. It’s a blatant claim on her part, but it also helps ease the residual heartache that followed you into death. And, hopefully (a personal hope of her), each time you look at it, you’d fall deeper and deeper in love with her as well.

Artemis

Cause of Death: Arrow to the Heart

She’s confused when she sees you, quick to voice her confusion as well. Also depending on if you're more feminine or masculine (and I don’t mean woman or man, I just mean how you present yourself), she will treat you differently depending. So, for now, we’re gonna go with the more “feminine” option:

“Who’re you?”

You bow. “An honor to meet you, Lady Artemis, I seem to have bumped into that orb on accident. Wasn’t sure what it did and the curiosity got the better of me.”

She hums, she perks when she notices your bow. “You’re a hunter?”

You smile, holding it out to her. “Yes, indeed, my Lady- I prayed to you a lot.” You laughed, adding. “Hoped to join your hunters when I was young.”

She’s quite happy to hear that and begins to chatter along with you. For some reason feeling oddly at ease around you. It’s probably because you were a fellow hunter but she simply can’t help the way she grows an odd sort of… adoration? Something like that, she thinks- for you. She almost laments the fact when Zagreus comes to get the boon.

You nod to him, biding your farewell to the Goddess and passing the boon to the Prince. She doesn’t miss how Zagreus’ eyes shine as you walk away. She almost comments on it but bites her tongue, wanting to observe the prince and the dreamy look that drifts over his features, even as you disappear.

The next time the two of you meet, she asks if she can see you in action. You agree and search up ahead to find something to demonstrate your skills on. You’re quick to find a few Numbskulls. She watches as you take a deep breath, your eyes narrowing on your unassuming targets and your footsteps become silent as you skirt closer to them. You nock an arrow, never looking away. Her eyes gleam with thrumming adrenaline at the way the muscles in your arms tense as you draw the string back. The low groan of the wood barely above a whisper as you wait for them to line up. You hold your breath, releasing the arrow- it goes through all three of them, making them break into dust in a consecutive line, a harrowing scream being wretched from them as they fade from existence. You release the breath you were holding and stand, sending a smile to the young goddess whose eyes shine with stars.

She praises you for your amazing skill and sings of your prowess. You shake your head, looking down at the ground as you argued that you were but a simple bow folk in your living life. Nothing more, nothing less.

She begs to differ! That type of skill only belongs to those of her highest ranking huntresses! She continues to gush about you until Zag comes up and, once again, greets the both of you. That dreamy look coming over his face as he looks at you. She watches as you once again disappear into Tartarus, this time though, after you’re gone, she turns to her cousin and shoots into a tangent about why he had never told her about you before and where did you come from? She has to know!

He answers all of her questions to the best of his abilities but there are even some he doesn’t know about, for example: how you died.

Artemis accepts this and decides that she’ll just ask you the next time the two of you meet.

And, true to her word, she does. She asks you point blank and you can’t help but be slightly taken aback. You laugh softly, leaning on your bow as you begin to recount that you were traversing her forest, as you had done many times before, and noticed fresh foot prints of man. You decided that it would be a good idea to look and you found hunters trying to kill her Golden Stag. You had dove in as quickly as you could, shooting one- the arrow sailing in a clean arch through his wrist before he could let loose his arrow. But as you went to nock another arrow- a searing pain in your chest and heart. You looked down to see blood pooling around your robes, dying the olive green of your cloak a wine red. You remember the last thing you saw was the Golden Stag running away. You smiled telling her that you were happy he got away- you don’t know what you’d do if he had been captured despite your effort.

Artemis suddenly remembers that day: her stag rushing to her and urging her to follow him- he bounded through the forest, frantic and panicked. When they got to a clearing, she was quick to notice the blood and the drag marks of a body. Her stag pressed his nose to the ground sniffing at the pool of blood, his eyes watering and bulbous tears slid down his muzzle. It suddenly made sense. You were the one he was mourning for.

She couldn’t help but grab your hands, resting her forehead against the back of them; thanking you for protecting her stag when she couldn’t. You smile at her, bowing your head to her and thanking her for the countless hunts she went on with you. You pull your hands away from her and hold out your bow to her. She asks what you think you're doing in a watery voice and you say it’s an offering. You couldn’t give much when you were alive and you still can’t give much now, but, this bow- it shall treat her right.

She sniffles as she takes it, trying to hold in tears. She vows to treasure it for all of time as she admires the worn wood.

That day, the two of you became closer as comrades, she would actively come down to say hi to you (and encourage Zagreus to take the leap and court you after she learned of his growing affections for you). The two of you would talk about everything you could think of, explaining how your hunting styles differed or how you could set a trap easier. She had realized that she had never felt this carefree with anyone before. She felt like a child. It felt nice.

When you snag her a bottle of Ambrosia- she’s swaddled in a whirlwind of emotions.

“You… You got this for me?” She asks as she takes the bottle of golden liquid.

You nod, that gentle smiling spreading across your face. “Of course. You had helped me so many times- it is only fair, my Lady-”

“Artemis-” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles- “call me Artemis, my friend.”

She finds you to be a perfect friend- a breath of fresh air from home. She may not feel any romantic feelings towards you, but she still holds you in a dear place in her heart. Her gift to you is a new bow and quiver that will never run out of arrows. The bow is enchanted and you’ll never have to fear it breaking for it will protect you for as long as you exist- in this realm or another.

Ares

Cause of Death: Blood Loss

When Ares first sees you, he is… well- he’s impressed that you stumbled upon his boon, but at the same time… He’s a tad miffed? That you found it?

At the very least he’s condescending as all hell about it:

“What is this? A little lamb came to beg me for power? How foolish. No matter how hard you struggle you will never be much more than some little shade.”

“Ah, sorry, my Lord! Didn’t mean to bump into it!” You hold up the basket in your translucent arms, “I wanted to see if I could find some new ingredients to bake with! I do oh-so miss it, sir.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

He ends up allowing you to chatter on with him despite his obvious judgement on your, what he calls, “soft mortal hobby” until Zagreus comes to do his daily try of breaking out from the Underworld.

As he watches you drift away (after passing the boon and giving words of good luck to the Prince, who happily takes it), he kinda hopes to see you again

And see you again he does! He literally sees you the next day- night? Whatever, he’s never sure when he drops a boon in there- it’s damn dark-

He’s presented with a basket of treats and your gleeful greeting as you chatter that you found ingredients to make some Baklava and you thought that, maybe, he’d like to try it?

He smiles- cruel and sharp- and asks if you truly think that this is a fit offering for a god such as himself?

You shrug, saying he doesn’t have to eat it if he doesn’t want to

He laughs and takes it and you two are off chattering again: him regaling you with his war stories and you of the ingredients you had (somehow) found down here until Zag shows up, once again, the boon is passed to him (this time along with a slice of the delicious, warm Baklava. Which, he’s confused on what it is but he finds out very quickly that it’s his favorite treat).

The two of you talk a lot, which Ares is pleasantly surprised about, usually he’s the scorn of everyone- not that he cares, it causes conflict and he likes that. But you’re so calm and sweet that he just can’t get a rise out of you. Which, on one hand, pisses him off to no end, but, on the other, it’s such a nice change of pace for him. He’s used to the bloodshed and animosity of battlefields- the iron tinged air that follows after the warriors that traverse those fields. And yet, here you are: a shade that always has a treat for him when you run into him and the smell of warm sweetness wafting after you.

So when he learned exactly how you died- he was absolutely floored.

“How did you die, little baker?” He asked one day, fiddling with his knife, tilting it discreetly so that your reflection was in it.

“Oh!” You smiled sheepishly, glancing away from him and placing the bag of flour (how did you even get that? He’d have to ask you next) back into your basket. “Well- you see, I bled out.”

He raised his eyebrow, suddenly very interested. “How? You’re so…�� he tilted his head and flipped his knife so that the blade pointed at him and the hilt pointed at you, he poked your arm with said hilt. “Soft.”

“Well…”

You explain that you had a little brother who had a nasty habit of getting into trouble- he was a good person, just made foolish choices- and this time, it had cost you your life. He had pissed off the wrong person and, well, when the man had attempted to grab your brother when the two of you were out walking the stalls on your break- you did the only thing you could think of: you fought.

Of course it went horribly, you’ve never been in a fight before then and, despite all the work you did with dough, it didn’t help much when the man pulled out a knife and dug it straight into your gut. But, you don’t mind too much- your brother’s alive and well and, from what you understand from asking Lord Hades, he had started to be more aware of himself and who he angered. Which made you super happy and proud of him!

Ares can’t help but feel some sort of pity for you. So much life to be taken so quickly and placed in- wait. Why weren’t you in Elysium?

You’re incredibly confused when Ares suddenly disappears (Aphrodite appearing in his place in the blink of an eye- she greets you happily and asks if you have any of Baklava to share today. You do not but you do have some Loukoumades if she wanted some. She did). You’re even more confused when the Underworld shakes and angry yelling fills the entirety of it for a solid ten minutes before all goes back to normal.

You tell Ares about it the next day and he simply hums. Keeping it to himself that he made a whole scene about you not being in Elysium by popping up and butting heads with Hades, of course he got kicked out. That still doesn’t stop him from sending angry letters that can span anywhere from one word letters (usually containing a curse word) to a 30 page essay on why you should be in Elysium instead of milling about in such unkempt places.

The first time you go out of your way to get him a bottle of Ambrosia is the day that both scares the shit out of him and makes him hate you for giving him mushy feelings.

You came to him in, almost literal, tatters: your greenish, transparent form ripped in places, the few wisps of you following after your torn form like they were tied to a string. You had held it up to him in a basket, a plate of Baklava sitting next to it, along with some other treats. “Lady Aphrodite mentioned that she wanted to try my Baklava, so I made her some! Though the Ambrosia is just for you, my Lord!”

He blinked at you, taking the basket in a delicate hold. He turned it this way and that, his chest feeling… warm? He wanted to grimace at the soft warmth that thrummed through his veins, yet it was replaced with a smile as he held up the gold liquid. “Thank you, little Baker.”

It was the first time he felt something so unexplainably soft: so gentle and warm as it settled somewhere between the bottom of his ribcage and the top of his stomach. He listened as you told him how you had gotten it: with Zagreus’ help (you even got to meet Lord Hermes! It was so amazing! He had scoffed at that) he led you to a room with Ambrosia as the prize and, despite the young prince’s worry, you managed to beat the monsters and collect it, mostly, by yourself.

Ares was so flattered, but he couldn’t help the way that your tattered form made him feel a sort of worry. He waved his hands through the wisps of your body before he snapped his fingers and a small blade appeared: a beautifully constructed blade that was an exact replica of his (albeit much, much smaller). He handed it to you, telling you that you should have a proper weapon if you’re going to go out of your way to fight in his name.

Dionysus

Cause of Death: Alcohol Poisoning

Dionysus, unlike many, is incredibly excited to see you sitting there. He adores mortal souls and can’t help but look at them each time Zag chooses his boons and he has the chance to glimpse at their souls (despite his tendency to let them go completely after they die- he can’t help but wonder about them once in a while).

“Why, hello there! What’s a little thing like you doing strolling up to my boon, hm?”

He can’t help but notice the way your eyes are a tad dull, but he writes that off as the dark of Tartarus since it’s gone as fast as he noticed it. You smile up at him, absolutely beaming at the God of drink and madness. “Hello, Lord Dionysus!”

“Oho, you could tell it was me? What gave it away?”

The two of you laugh, diving into a conversation. He offers you a cup of wine and is put off with how long it takes you to decline it. He almost thought you looked absolutely ravenous as you peered into the deep red liquid. He shrugs it off and continues to chatter with you until his favorite Zagman stumbles upon the two of you. He’s quick to say hi to you and even leans down to ask you… something. Dionysus misses it, but still watches the way you stiffly nod before you pass the boon to the prince and scurry off.

He’s tempted to ask about it, but decides that he should probably ask you himself instead of trying to pry. Mortals didn’t take well to people snooping around their private lives, which he could respect.

The next time he sees you though, he relaxes you into a sort of peaceful lull as he chats with you before he drops the question.

You stare blankly at him, that dark look in your eye coming back and making his skin crawl. You suddenly laugh it off waving your hands as you tell him that a god shouldn’t worry about a little ol’ shade like you.

He doesn’t push for an answer but the question still swirls in his mind, even as you toddle off after his Zagman pops up. He decides that he’ll actually ask the Prince this time around.

He asks him point blank and Zag, despite him being hesitant at first, decides to spill how you died. You had been the black sheep of your family, never truly fitting into the carefully set path that they wanted you to follow- so you found solace in drinking from a young age. It had taken the edge off of everything, Zagreus recounted you telling him. It filled you with a warmth you had been missing all your life and you couldn’t help but indulge more and more in it until it slowly became your own personal poison. Dionysus grimaced, for once feeling a sort of queasiness in the pit of his stomach as Zagreus continued on with your story. So, one day, you had drunk yourself into a deep stupor after an awful argument with your parents. But, this time, you never woke up. Instead you woke up floating in the river of blood- the River of Styx.

Dionysus had nodded after the Prince finished the story, playing with the goblet in his hand and swirling the red wine that resides in it. He offers a bitter smile to Zag and bids his farewell (of course leaving a boon of his choice with the lad) popping off back to Olympus.

The next time he runs into you, he asks if you’re feeling alright- if you want to talk. You blink at him, confused at first until realization dawns you. You bite your lip, looking down. He’s quick to assure you that you didn’t have to talk about anything- you two could just have a good time like always. You tell him that you’d like that, not yet ready to face your past. He nods, immediately telling you about an embarrassing story about Ares and how much of a lightweight he was which had you letting out an ugly snort along with your loud cackles.

The god begins to take it upon himself to have you smiling more and maybe remedy those dark clouds that appear in your eyes once in a while. He’s pretty observant despite being piss drunk half the time, it also helps that he’s very intune to your emotions for some odd reason, so he’s quick to pick up on when you feel down or your having something the equivalent to a relapse. He has you drink just a little bit from his goblet since it’s better than quitting cold turkey. And that little bit is always enough to quench your thirst and calm you down. You’ve been needing less and less of it as the days (nights?) pass by.

The first time you get Dionysus Ambrosia is the same day that he almost swears that he’ll marry you. He’s quick to grow emotional with the sheer fact that you went out of your way to get something so special for him, his face almost splitting with how wide of a smile he has on his face.

“You got this for me, man?” He says, holding up the bottle in his hand and inspecting it like it’s a precious jewel. “You know this stuff is hard to come by, super hard.”

You nod, the clouds far from your eyes now. “I had to thank you some way and punching a couple of Shades to get my hands on that was worth it.”

“You punched people for me?”

“Of course.”

He fights the urge to squeal and pops the top off, summoning another cup and pouring some in it. “Here’s to us!” He says as he hands you the cup.

He’s honestly never had so much fun just existing with one person. After that he’s never far from you, one usually not seen without the other around- even despite the Underworld not being Dionysus’ favorite place, he can’t help but be willing to venture down there to see you in person (he’s been trying to convince his wonderful Uncle Hades to let you come up with him to Olympus for a little bit- he’s even got his dad and (other) Uncle in on it. Hades officially hates all of them). His gift to you is a matching goblet that will supply you any beverage of your choice. It also has the double power to protect you from all that wishes to harm you, but you’ll learn that in due time. It’ll be more fun that way, Dionysus muses.

Hermes

Cause of Death: Falling

Usually, Heremes wouldn’t have taken the time of day to chatter mindlessly with a shade. But, it was a different story when that shade summoned him through bumping into his boon- now it’s just interesting!

“Eh? Who’re you? It’s kinda strange for a shade to be here and not my Cos, huh? Did something happen to him? You his stand in or something? That’d be kinda funny because you don’t seem like his stand in- not buff enough or something like that.”

You blink slowly taking in the words of his mile a minute speech as he continues to prattle on. You take a seat in front of the quick mouthed god, getting yourself comfortable as he flutters about and chatters. Not like you minded- he filled in the places where you couldn’t with steady conversation. You nod to some of the quips he makes, just to show you were still listening.

He decides then and there that he likes you a lot and that you should meet Charon. As soon as Zagreus pops up to collect the boon- he grabs the back of your robes and goes zooming off with you in tow. You wave to the panicked prince, allowing yourself to be dragged around. He continues to chatter on and on, only taking a break when he reaches the Boatman (who was not expecting a Shade to be accompanying the God of Messengers). He sets you down, tries to introduce you two to each other- realizes he doesn’t know your name, so you end up telling them your name- and then is quick to say goodbye, after he gives a scroll to Charon, and shoots off.

You end up staying with Charon after learning a bit more about the quiet boatman and Hermes is quite pleased when he realizes that he’d be seeing you around a lot more. He’s quick to flutter about you and chatter for a few quick seconds before zipping off. You wave at him.

The process repeats for a while before he finally takes a moment to really sit with you, Charon having gone to pick up more souls and lead them down the River of Styx. He chatters on aimlessly, asking little questions here and there before he decides to ask the million dollar question: “How did you die?”

You blink slowly as him before murmuring that you fell from a very high place, you head cracking open on the rocks at the bottom and now here you are. He asks why you were messing about on a high place, as that seemed to be something most mortals avoided doing. You explained that there was a kitten stuck in an old root on the ledge and you couldn’t just leave her. So, you crawled onto the branch and put her back onto safe ground, but the root gave way and then you went tumbling to your doom.

Hermes is surprisingly quiet throughout the entire exchange until you reach the end and he says: “you’re a real bleeding heart under all that quiet, huh?” You nod solemnly and he laughs, pulling you into a side hug. How could something with such a fleeting life be so selfless with it? He squeezes you harder before he stands up and bids you farwell, shooting off once again. And, again, you wave as he goes.

He grows attached to you quickly afterwards, bringing you little things that might help make you more comfortable down in the Underworld. Of course Charon is there to keep you company which he’s happy about- and he voices that exact thought to the boatman, who just grumbles out a long: uuuuaagghhh as his reply. He pats his arm and says that he knew he’d get it.

When you manage to get your hands on a bottle of Ambrosia- he’s completely blind sided that he almost trips on his own feet. His face flushing a deep red as he takes the offered bottle.

“How’d- how’d you get this?” His speech is all jumbled and jumpy, though he tries to keep the giddy excitement bubbling in his stomach as bay.

“I saved up my coin,” you said, nodding to Charon who nods back. “And bought it from Charon. I would’ve fought for it, but I’m no warrior.”

A smile splits across his face and the wings on the side of his head flutter. He’s quick to scoop you up and hug you, floating up with you as he does.

Hermes is an absolute giddy mess with your offering, not sure if he should kiss you or simply remain holding you. He had a special place for you before but this just solidifies his adoration for you. His gift to you is a pair of boots with wings on the side of them- an exact replica of his (in your size! Somehow-). He promises that they’ll help you get anywhere you want quickly, also the two of you match! How cute is that?

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kohanayaki · 4 years ago

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.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 1

Old habits die hard— and so do feelings, apparently. Relive moments high and low from your life with the Marauders and co. as you tell your godson, Harry, about all the mischief you got up to back in your school days. Takes place mainly in the Marauders era but also has content congruent with the Order of the Phoenix timeline, with some cannon divergence, of course~

- Main pairings: Sirius Black x Reader, Severus Snape x Reader, James Potter x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, slight Regulus Black x Reader, and a bunch of friendships! Gender neutral pronouns :)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

____________________________________________________________

Ch 1 .:Memories And First Meetings:.

12 Grimmauld Place was cold.

Not in the temperature sense of the word, especially in the heat of London summer, but something about it felt distant. Perhaps it was the cookie cutter exterior, dreadfully drab, although you knew its true nature was anything but. Despite its grandeur, the interior was as ornate as it was dull and unsaturated, like a black and white photograph in all its monochromatic glory. Maybe it was the fact that you knew what had happened here in the past, or the fact that you knew who was waiting here for you in the present.

You felt the strange sensation of stepping through the thick blanket of protection charms surrounding the house, as if your body were moving through molasses for a fraction of a second. The moment you were fully inside, you began to hear the hushed bits of a conversation echoing through the entrance hall from the dining room whose door was slightly ajar. The words became clearer as you neared the door.

“Harry's not ready! Have you gone completely mad?”

You found yourself grinning at the first voice, Molly Weasley's stern tone unmistakable.

“He's not a child, Molly.”

You froze as you heard the second one; you'd know it anywhere.

A heavy wave of emotion surged through you as you got near enough to the entrance to see the face of Sirius Black through the gap in the door. His time in Azkaban had taken a toll on him, you could tell. Heavy bags hung from his face, his cheeks hollow; although his gray eyes still held that spark in them. His hair was longer, somehow even more wild and unruly than before, but it suited him.

“Well he's not an adult either! He's not James.”

You caught a flash of ginger as Molly crossed the room, using her wand to aggressively clear away the plates on the table as she made her point.

“I know he isn't, but he can handle himself,” Sirius said, “and I'll be there to protect him.”

“How touching, Black. Perhaps the boy will grow up to be a felon just like his godfather.”

Your stomach dropped at the third voice. Shit.

Your presence remained unannounced, but as you peaked your head around the corner of the door frame you were met with Severus' stoic face, an imperceptible crease of distaste in his brow as he regarded Sirius. As your view widened you saw that Lupin sat to his left, a human wall between the two former foes.

You stilled at the door, taking a deep breath in an attempt to settle your irrationally rioting nerves. It's not as if you didn't know they would be there, but it had been so long since you'd seen any of them. So much has changed. . .

“You stay out of this, Snivelus. I don't care what Dumbledore has to say about your supposed reformation, but I know better.”

“Don't you have to go play fetch elsewhere?”

“Oh come on, you two,” Remus sighed.

Well, maybe not much has changed after all.

“Still resorting to playground bickering, are we?”

Several heads snapped in your direction at your words, and you were met with various reactions. Molly's face immediately split into a smile and she rushed around to table to greet you.

“(Y/n), dear! So nice to see you again,” she pulled you into a surprisingly strong hug and you couldn't help but join in her laughter.

“It's good to be back,” you admitted, “Charlie says hello, by the way.”

“Oh, I'm going to give give that boy a talking to,” Molly huffed, “you aren't his owl, dear. The least he could do is write home and say so himself.”

“Romanian mountain ranges keep a wizard busy,” you grinned, “He says he tries to keep in touch.”

“Sending home a bag of petrified dragon scales with a note that says 'look at this!!' is hardly keeping in touch,” she retorted, fussing about with your jacket's collar that had become wrinkled from her embrace.

Even from across the table you could feel Sirius' eyes on you, grateful that you had Molly's whirlwind greeting as a scapegoat for your flushed face.

“(Y/n). . .” he said softly, getting up from his seat.

“Hey,” you smiled, fighting the lump in your throat as he wrapped his arms around you. He was so warm, still wearing that damn leather jacket he'd somehow been reunited with after his imprisonment.

“What are you doing here? They told me you were out working in America,” Sirius said, eyes twinkling as he held you at arm's length.

“Well, I suppose I'm sort of working everywhere these days,” you said. As his words registered in your brain you turned to Molly with narrowed eyes. “You didn't tell him I was coming?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” she said coyly.

You shook your head, turning back to Sirius.

“I'm so sorry, Molly said I could stay here so I thought she already ran it by you—”

“No, no, of course you can stay!” he said enthusiastically, “I'm glad you're here.”

He seemed gentler than he was before, certainly more mellow than in his youth, but that energy that was so quintessentially him remained buzzing beneath his skin, and Merlin, you'd missed it.

After realizing how long the two of you had spent practically holding each other you coughed awkwardly, slowly drifting apart. As you looked around the table your eyes caught Severus' and you thought your heart stopped for a moment. To the untrained eye he probably seemed just as uninterested as ever, but the look of shock in his eyes was so blatantly apparent to you that it threw you off guard. You managed to cast a small smile in his direction, but his expression remained unchanged while yours dropped. You felt your stomach twist up in knots as you thought about what had happened the last time you saw each other.

Lupin looked between the pair of you before getting up from his own seat and coming to your rescue. He extended his arms with a kind smile, and you happily shifted your attention to him.

“It's about time London had its best auror back in town,” he said.

��Flattery will get you nowhere, Moony,” you said playfully, hugging him tight, “It's good to see you too.”

“Are you hungry?” Molly asked, pulling a chair out for you.

“Oh no, I had something on the way here,” you said, taking a seat, “thank you, though.”

It felt surreal to be back here, where it all started. The faces were different—some new, some missing—but the same determined feeling remained.

“Now, where were we,” Sirius said, his confidence returning to his shoulders as he addressed the table.

“We were just talking about how Harry isn't ready to be tangled up in all this,” Molly said sternly.

“I think he should decide that for himself,” Sirius said adamantly.

“Well of course the boy would say he wants to fight, he's—”

“Listening in right now,” you pointed out, jutting your head in the direction of the open door where Harry stood, half obscured by the shadow of the stairway.

The boy flushed, backing away slightly as he was caught. But his eyes lit up as they landed on you, and you felt a tug at your heart as you saw your best friend in their bright green hues.

“(Y/n), you're back,” he said in disbelief.

“And here to stay for a bit, apparently,” you said with a smile.

Molly looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh.

“You know what, we should stop for the night anyways,” she said with a wave of her hand, “We've kept the children up long enough with our chatter, and (Y/n) ought to get some rest as well. Off to bed, the lot of you.”

Some of the other adults exchanged some knowing smiles as she shooed them out of the room. People slowly trickled out through the doorway, goodbyes exchanged, and before long it was just you and your godson left.

You had been lucky enough to meet Harry at the end of his third year, and he'd broken the news about Sirius' innocence to you. You so badly wanted to be there for Harry sooner, but between your strained relationship with the Ministry and cleaning up the mess with MACUSA in the States, you always seemed to be called away from the boy. You wanted nothing more than to take him away from that horrid house—you knew how nasty Petunia could be firsthand. Nonetheless, he seemed to be doing well, and you were happy that you'd grown closer over the last few years even if you couldn't be there in person all the time.

“I've got another little souvenir for you, by the way,” you said, having migrated to the living room.

Harry seemed to perk up at that. Since your visits had been so sparse, you began to make it a tradition to bring him back something magical from whatever part of the world you'd been working in.

“You mentioned you were struggling in Potions the last time we spoke,” you said, rummaging through your bag, eventually producing a small, gold-rimmed vial full of a deep maroon liquid. Small black clouds seemed to tumble in a miniature cyclone inside the glass.

“Dragon's breath essence,” you grinned, “nicked it off of Charlie before I left Romania. Put a few drops of this in your salamander blood the next time you brew a Wiggenweld potion and you're set to pass with flying colors.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said, eyes wide, “that's on our O.W.L.S. this year.”

“I know,” you said cheekily, “you didn't hear it from me. Personally, I think an Outstanding in Potions as a requirement to become an auror is utter rubbish. Don't get me wrong, it's important to know your way around a cauldron, but to hold someone back who excels at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms just because they can't cook up a sleeping draught? I don't know, it doesn't sit right with me. And I've heard Severus is hard enough on you guys as it is.”

Harry seemed surprised at your casual address of his professor but shook it off quickly.

“But you're ace at Potions, and it seems like you really like it,” he said.

“Yeah, well I—” you faltered a bit, “I learned from the best. . .”

“Professor Slughorn, you mean?” Harry questioned.

Your eyes widened at that.

“Yeah,” you lied, recovering fast, “Well, Slughorn was a great teacher but terrible at throwing parties. He had this thing called the Slug Club and the dinners were just awful. Your mother was the first of us to join and she ended up roping me into it, and before we knew it we were all standing around in these ridiculous outfits taking swigs of the firewhiskey your dad snuck in just to get through the night.”

You smiled fondly at the memory, and you could see Harry living vicariously through the emotions on your face. You were grateful for this moment; this was the longest you'd actually gotten to sit down and talk together in a long time.

“Were you always friends?” Harry asked, “with my parents, I mean.”

You had to laugh at that question.

“With your mum, yes. Your father, well, not exactly. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1971 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body swayed gently with the movement of the Hogwarts Express as you walked up and down the isles, looking for someplace to sit. Most of the carriages were packed tight with large groups made up of upperclassmen not exactly looking to expand their circle.

As you approached the back of the train a mostly empty car caught your eye, occupied only by two children your age, or at least that's what you guessed from their black ties and basic robes that marked them as unsorted first-years like yourself.

One of them was a brooding looking boy with messy, shoulder length black hair and shockingly pale skin, leaning against the wall of the train and halfway through a book that seemed well beyond his years. Sitting across from him was a pretty red-headed girl who was admiring the rapidly passing scenery through the window.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit with you?” you asked, sliding the screen door open.

The boy's brow furrowed, clearly about refuse when the young girl beat him to it.

“Of course not!” she beamed, her smile infectious. You didn't miss the sharp look she shot over to the boy who simply rolled his eyes in response. After you muttered a small 'thanks' she scooted over closer to the window so you could sit next to her.

“My name is Lily,” she said, extending a hand, “Lily Evans.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, “I'm (Y/n) (L/n).”

The boy quirked a brow at your last name, his expression shifting to something unreadable as he blatantly studied you over the spine of his book. After letting this go on for some time, you glanced over at Lily.

“Does he speak?”

“Perfectly well, thank you,” the boy said coldly.

Lily sent a disappointed look his way and his heart fell slightly, but he didn't need to be friends with anyone else, and he certainly didn't want other people becoming friends with Lily either. An irrational thought, he knew, but it was how his stubborn little brain worked at the time. They didn't need anyone but each other. Wasn't that enough?

In any case, he expected his behavior would be enough to scare you off (it usually worked on other people), but to his complete and utter surprise, you began to laugh. It started off as a light giggle, soon growing into full on laughter. He stared at you in open confusion as you were nearly brought to tears from your fit.

“You're funny,” you stated honestly, managing to speak through your chortles.

The boy was taken completely aback by your candor, actually at a loss for words. Lily joined in the laughter at your simple remark.

“So you do talk, I guess you must have a name too, then,” you said teasingly.

He blinked once. Twice.

“. . . Severus Snape.”

“That's a cool name.”

The heat that crept onto the boy's face surprised no one more than himself, and he buried himself in his book quickly to hide it. Another surprisingly frank statement from you, and not one he'd ever heard before.

If he thought you were full of surprises then, he had no idea what was coming to him.

_____________________________________________________________

The minute the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, it was immediately intrigued.

“Now here's an odd one,” it chuckled, “loyal, compassionate, empathetic, and yet a razor wit. A calculating, ambitious mind, and yet a relentless sense of adventure. All this, and with your bloodline to take into account as well. Your family has quite the history here, (L/n).”

Hushed whispers fell across the Great Hall among the older students and even some of the faculty at the hat's words, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Though, I sense a different sort of mentality in you,” the hat continued, “you desire to challenge the old ways,” it paused for some time before going on, “do you truly have no preference, child?”

You were surprised at the question. You knew your family's reputation— it had been ingrained in you from a young age— but that didn't sway you, nor did it scare you. When you really thought about what house you wanted to be in, you truly couldn't think of an answer. It wouldn't change who you were, after all. Whether you donned red, yellow, blue, or green, you stood firmly in the knowledge that you would always be (Y/n) (L/n). Having made up your mind, you shook your head at the hat's question, and although its face was obscured from your view, you could almost sense its grin as it knew you were telling the truth.

“Well then,” it chuckled, “It is truly rare that I get an opportunity such as this. Let's make it interesting, then, shall we? Better be. . . Slytherin!”

Snape sat, slack-jawed, as you bounded over to the applauding Slytherin table and plopped down next to him. You rested your chin atop your folded hands, looking largely unbothered, a glint in your (e/c) eyes. He chuckled under his breath despite himself.

Full of surprises indeed.

___________________________________________________________

Your first encounter with James Potter was of a different sort.

It was the very beginning of your third year when you'd first met him properly. You had a few classes together, and Lily would rant about him constantly pestering her; occasionally you'd see the Gryffindor, along with another unfamiliar boy in his house, sprinting through the corridors, Professor McGonagall not far behind and demanding them to stop. But other than that, you'd never really interacted with him.

Ever since you'd met on the train you and Lily started to hang out more and more, with Snape “begrudgingly” tagging along. The Slytherin had been slow to warm up to you, but you were relentlessly kind and infuriatingly persistent, and eventually he found himself enjoying your little quips and comparatively sunny disposition. By the end of your first year, the three of you were nearly inseparable, and your bond only strengthened throughout your second. But third year is when things started changing.

Snape sat in the shade among the thick, overgrown roots of the old oak tree by the Black Lake, nose deep in an advanced Potions textbook he'd swiped from a fifth year as he waited for you and Lily to return from Transfiguration, the only class you didn't have together. This became your usual spot, with Lily sitting in the grass beside him and you on the branch above him, legs swinging as you absentmindedly sketched in your notebook. A comfortable silence would settle between you, something you'd all grown to enjoy; there was no need for constant conversation, it was enough sometimes to just enjoy each others' presence.

The silence he was reveling in alone, however, was promptly interrupted as rowdy laughter reached Snape's ears. Sure enough, a few figures emerged from the curve of the hill, revealing none other than James Potter, flanked by the curly haired boy he'd been seen running around with earlier along with two other Gryffindors: a short-statured boy with dirty blonde hair and another, taller and leaner, with long scars that ran along his face.

Snape didn't pay them much mind until he realized that they were heading straight for the tree— straight for him. Snape had noticed right away how the Potter boy had tried to befriend Lily as soon as she was sorted into Gryffindor, and it was safe to say he was less than fond of him despite having never really spoken to him before.

“You've got to be joking,” James snickered as he walked up to the tree, looking Snape up and down, “This is the guy Evans has been ditching us to see?”

Severus' eyes narrowed. So now he had a reason not to like him.

“Get lost,” he said, turning back to his book.

“What, you think you're too good to talk to us, huh?” James scoffed at him, clearly miffed.

As if on cue, the curly haired boy snatched the book out of Snape's hands, holding it out of his reach as he fumbled to get it back.

“Toss it, Sirius!” James called out. The boy, who he now knew as Sirius, threw the textbook like a frisbee, and Potter caught it easily.

As Snape angrily rose from his seat to get it back, the two boys continued to throw it between themselves so he couldn't grab it. Fed up, the Slytherin drew his wand but was quickly outmatched.

“Expelliarmus!”

Snape's wand flew out of his hands and straight into Sirius', who held it above his head. Just as the black haired boy jumped up for it, another spell flew towards him, this time from James.

“Winguardium Leviosa!”

Snape grit his teeth, staring helplessly at his wand as it hovered higher and higher out of his reach.

“James, come on, I think that's enough,” the taller boy near the back said.

“Don't be a bore, Remus, we're just having some fun.”

“I-I think he's right, guys.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

While his gaze was trained on his wand a harsh shove threw Snape to the ground, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

“No way, is he really crying?” James taunted.

“He is,” Sirius goaded on, “just look at him snivel.��

“You're right, maybe we should call him Snivelus, it suits him better.”

“Nice one, James.”

Snape winced as he was harshly pulled to his feet by James who sneered at him.

“Come on then, Snivelous. What are you gonna do?”

“Relashio!”

James' eyes widened as he suddenly felt himself repulsed back by some invisible force, his grip on Snape's robes forced to loosen as he was flung backwards. You stared the shocked Gryffindors down, wand at the ready for another spell as you ran to stand between Severus and them.

“Accio!” another voice called out, Snape's book and wand whizzing past their faces and into Lily's hands.

James staggered to his feet, trying to look unbothered by the fact that he'd just been knocked down, and by a spell that he hadn't even heard of yet.

“Look at that, boys,” he said, feigning confidence, “guess Snivelus needs a couple of girls to come to his rescue. You should ditch this loser, Evans.”

Before Lily could lash back, you stepped between them.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“I'm sorry, who are you?”

You felt your forehead twitch, itching to smack that smug grin off his face.

It was Sirius who spoke next, recognition filling his gaze.

“Wait, you're the (L/n) kid, aren't you? Well that's just perfect, you two freaks can go study the Unforgivable Curses together.”

That struck a nerve in you.

“You don't know anything,” you said, not lowering your wand, “now get out of here before I knock you down too.”

“Aw, I don't know, Sirius, they're kind of cute all flustered like this,” James smirked.

You felt anger flare up in your chest, and it was Lily's turn to step in for you.

“Leave us alone, James,” she ordered.

When none of them moved you exhaled sharply, taking another step forward.

“Or I can just turn you into a flobberworm instead,” you said, “might be more fitting.”

Sirius laughed off your threat, but you could have sworn you saw a twinge of concern in his eyes as he looked over to the rest of his friends for backup.

“Let's just go, James. Come on,” the one named Remus said, trying to be the voice of reason.

The bespectacled boy frowned, shoving his wand back in his robes.

“Fine,” he said, “they aren't worth it anyways.”

He turned promptly on his heels, Sirius right behind him and Peter scampering after. Remus stayed behind for a moment, regarding you three.

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, “really.”

Your brow creased in suspicion, but you nodded, not quite smiling but offering up a neutral expression at least before he turned to catch up with the rest of his group.

“You were kidding about (L/n) being cute, right?” Sirius said as they headed back to the common room. When he was met with silence instead of a clear 'of course I was' he nearly had a stroke.

“Are you kidding, James?” Sirius said incredulously, “They're a Slytherin! They're just another dark arts dabbler who doesn't care about anything but their blood status.”

James only shrugged.

“Normally I'd agree, but they seem different,” he said. When he turned to see Sirius' unwavering expression he sighed, “I was just saying that to get a rise out of 'em. Don't worry, this won't be the last time we mess with them and Snivelus.”

Meanwhile, you were still out sitting by the tree, brushing the grass out of Severus' hair.

“That was amazing, (Y/n),” Lily said, wide-eyed, “How did you manage to learn that spell? And you already learned the worm-morphing jinx too?”

“Sev isn't the only one who's been learning ahead,” you said, “but that worm thing was a total bluff.”

“I didn't need your help,” Snape muttered.

You blinked down at him, shaking your head and unable to fight the smirk that crept onto your face.

“Sure you didn't,” you huffed, helping him up to his feet despite his protests, “don't be so dramatic, we won't tell anyone if that's what you're so worried about. Now come on, we're gonna be late for dinner. If Wilkes hogs all the Yorkshire puddings I'm blaming you entirely.”

Severus said nothing, only taking his book and wand back from Lily before you three walked back to the castle arm in arm, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

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

“It seems like so long ago,” you said, reminiscing, “Although I suppose it was, but I don't want to think about that too hard— I'll start to feel old, Merlin forbid.”

Harry's eyes were full of disbelief at your story.

“So you, my mum, and. . . Snape were friends?”

“Believe it or not,” you grinned, “unlikely trio as we were, it just sort of worked somehow.”

Until it didn't, you thought grimly, but forced the thought aside. You could tell by how quiet Harry had gotten that something was bothering him.

“My dad really did that?” he asked quietly.

Your gaze softened and you turned to fully face him.

“He was dumb and immature at the time,” you said, “we all were. There's not much else to be when you're thirteen. Each of us made plenty of mistakes, too many to count. And your mum. . . she was good for him. He always told me that she made him want to be a better person. People can change. In my opinion, there are few things someone can do that makes them truly irredeemable, and your father never came close to doing any of those things.”

You thought it better to mention that Snape probably didn't feel the same way.

“In any case, we should be getting to bed,” you said, getting up from the couch, “if you ever want to hear any other stories about your parents, I've got plenty of them.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smile brightening his whole face, “yeah, definitely. Thank you.”

As Harry walked off to his room you sighed, making your way as quietly as you could up the creaky stairs. Just as you were about to retreat into your own guest room, your eyes snagged on the slightly ajar door at the top of the stairwell.

You stalled in front of it for a moment, wondering if you were out of your mind or not. When you had unapologetically settled on 'yes', you moved to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open. You practically leaped back at the proximity as you were met with Sirius standing in the doorway, stormy eyes wide. He'd shed his leather jacket for the night, leaving him in a dark maroon button up with the top few undone. Your senses were draped with the heady scent of his cologne, and you found yourself grasping at words to say.

When Sirius got over his initial shock he laughed sheepishly, running a hand through his curls out of habit.

“I was about to see if you were awake,” he admitted with a small grin, “Seems we both had the same idea.”

Read chapter 2 here !

#harry potter #the marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #harry potter x reader #marauders era #severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #multi chapter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction

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citrinesparkles · 4 years ago

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doctor todd.

jason todd x gender neutral vigilante!reader. 1,875 words. notes: requested by @jason-redhood as part of my hundred followers celebration! this got a lot longer than i intended, oopsies. thanks for requesting- hope you enjoy! warnings: tending wounds, mentions of food.

"y'know, lurking outside somebody's window is a good way to get yourself shot," jason called over his shoulder.

"i'll keep that in mind," you said, voice strained enough to shoot dread into his veins and draw his attention completely away from his work.

he set the gun he had been cleaning on the table and twisted around to find you gingerly sliding through the open window.

"hey," you mumbled, giving him a weak wave after your boots hit the floor. "sorry for not calling, i just..."

you were backlit, the glow of the city making it impossible to see your features from the dining area- but your posture alone was enough to have him shoving his chair back and crossing his apartment.

"how bad?" he asked, stopping a few steps back, now able to make out the tears in your suit and the bruises around your mask.

"pretty sure i sprained my wrist, and there's a poorly-bandaged gash on my leg, but otherwise i'm peachy."

"how bad's the leg?"

"i'm... not sure. bad enough that i think i need your help." you patted the windowsill with a gloved hand. "obviously."

he nodded and slid to your good side, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. "okay. c'mon, my stuff's in the bathroom."

"here." he handed you a pair of shorts and a large tank top. "change into this so i can get to the wounds, okay? i'll be right out here if you need anything."

"you're good!" you called.

he nudged the bathroom door back open and scooped your uniform up from the floor, carefully putting it in a canvas bag and tying the handles together before setting it in the tub to deal with later. "alright," he sighed, turning back to face you.

his clothes looked way too right on you, he realized, a wave of emotion he would vehemently deny surging through his chest and pushing heat to his neck and cheeks.

"alright?"

"okay. alright. uh-" he jerked a thumb at the counter- "up here, i guess, so i can see your leg."

you propped one foot on the toilet lid and braced your good hand against his shoulder, his hands instinctively coming up to hover around your waist as you pushed yourself up and settled next to the sink.

the grateful smile you gave him was enough to tug his lips into a smile of his own.

"you're up, doctor todd," you teased.

he stepped forward with a halfhearted eyeroll, fingers brushing the cloth tied hastily around your leg. "can i take this off?"

"go ahead."

he tugged gently at the knot, wincing when you inhaled sharply. "sorry."

the scrap fell away, revealing dried blood and an open wound on the outside of your thigh.

"yeesh, that is nasty," he said.

you scoffed lightly. "gee, thanks."

"hey, if you wanted a nice doctor, you probably should have gone somewhere else." he shifted to the side, grabbing a clean cloth and bottle of alcohol. "fair warning, you're really not gonna like me here in a minute."

your quick "i seriously doubt that." was greeted with a grin that felt a little too fond for his liking.

he told himself it was for your benefit.

...yeah, that sounded good.

he could live with that.

he made quick work of cleaning the gash, doing his best to distract you by making stupid small talk about the horrible movie he'd sat through that morning because the tv remote had been out of reach and the mediocre new coffee shop with dry blueberry muffins.

"was the coffee okay, at least?"

"okay, yeah, but not 'five-dollars-fifty' okay. if i hadn't been falling asleep in line i probably would have left when i saw the price."

"there's a nice one up by my place, they make the best blueberry muffins ever."

he hummed. "i'll keep that in mind, next time i'm over that way." he leaned back, studying your cut. "i think stitches would probably be smart."

you groaned. "of course they would."

"i'm okay to do them- i do them on myself- but if you want i can give you a lift to a hospital or something."

"no. if you can, i want you to do them. i trust you."

he sat with that for a minute, searching your face for any hesitation. when he found none, he nodded. "okay."

as you both expected, it sucked.

to make things worse, he was rapidly running out of mindless things to talk about.

how many times could two people really argue about pizza toppings before it got old?

"alright, done."

"holy shit, finally." you slumped back, leaning on your good hand for a moment before your head snapped back up. "no, not like- i meant thank you, you did great, i'm not being an ingrate-"

"i know, relax." he nudged your knee with a goofy smile. "here, gimme your wrist."

you pouted (which, yes, that was also adorable, much to his dismay), carefully stretching your bad arm out.

he took your hand gently, scooping it up in one of his and bracing your forearm up with his other. "it's actually not too bad, considering you hit hard enough to tear your glove. i'm gonna clean the scrapes here up, though, okay?"

"do i really get a choice?"

"it's your body, so, yeah."

you sighed dramatically. "fine, if you insist. go ahead, clean my wounds for me."

he was quiet this time, focusing intently on removing bits of dirt and stuff from your raw palm with a set of tweezers.

trying to ignore the way your eyes seemed to linger on him now that he was looking down.

he set the tweezers aside, glancing up at you to find you smiling at him thoughtfully, and dropped his gaze just as quickly as he had lifted it. "what, you enjoying making me do all the work?"

"you could say that, yeah."

he scoffed. "well, you're going to enjoy it a lot less in a second. time for the alcohol again."

"ugh."

he managed to dig up an old wrist brace in the back of his sock drawer. a little big for you, but it would work for now, he figured.

"may i?"

you nodded and held your arm back out for him to loop the brace over your thumb and tuck the velcro strap under and around, pulling it snug against your skin before sticking it to itself.

"last one, tough stuff." he pointed at your cheek, where a small patch of dried blood stained your skin. "ready?'

you nodded tiredly. "let's just get this over with. this counter isn't as comfortable as it looks."

he chuckled, dampening the softest cloth he had and wringing it out. "sorry, i didn't think i needed to get an apartment with counter cushions." he raised his left hand up, hovering an inch or so below your chin. "uh, can i..?"

your eyes widened, glancing at his hand. "oh, uh, sure. yeah."

he moved slowly, raising it to cup your chin softly with his middle and forefinger on one side and thumb on the other. "this okay?"

"mhm." your eyes slid shut and he could almost believe that you sank into his touch.

if it wasn't absolutely insane, anyway. his touch wasn't exactly the kind people sank into- much less people like you. people that good, that caring, that stunning? yeah, no.

he tilted your head to the side slightly, rubbing gentle circles across your cheekbone with the cloth and watching as the blood faded.

"so, who did this?" he asked softly, casually.

apparently not casually enough, though, because you snorted at him. "why, you think you need to go avenge me? defend my honor or something?"

"no! i'm just curious. just... making conversation."

your eyes opened, amusement dancing in them and threatening to hypnotize him. "good. i shouldn't have to tell you who won that fight, jay."

"well, i mean, you are missing a chunk of your thigh."

"aw, is the big bad vigilante worried about lil old me?"

he squeezed your face gently, pushing your cheeks up and forward into a goofy fish face. "it's rude to tease the guy tending to your wounds, babe."

he definitely didn't imagine your breath hitching. "babe, huh?" you asked playfully.

"shut up," he grumbled. "don't make me regret helping."

"alright, looks like that's the last scrape. you're all cleaned up."

"thanks, jason." you smiled up at him, soft and warm and genuine. "i really appreciate this."

"yeah, yeah." he squeezed your jaw again. "try not to make it a habit."

"mhm." a moment passed quietly before you spoke quietly. "so, you gonna do something here, or can i have my face back?"

he froze.

your mouth- which he was really trying not to look at- shifted into a confident smirk, a challenge written clearly in the angle of your lips.

your eyes, bright under the harsh lighting, told a different story. one of vulnerability, and want, and something close to fear.

"do you want me to?" his voice was hoarser than he'd intended, and he swore you could hear his heartbeat echoing in it.

your gaze dipped to his lips. "would it make everything super weird?"

"you just came crawling through my window in the middle of the night in a mask and kevlar. i think things are already weird."

he felt your hum under his fingers. "then why not?"

"do you really want me to answer that?"

"jason, will you please just kiss me already?"

"well, you did say please." he leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to slip away or yell 'sike!'

all you did was bring your good hand up to his collar and pull him towards you.

your lips were soft and gentle, and the way they pulled upwards slightly when his hand slid from your jaw to cup your cheek was something he'd be thinking about for weeks.

when he eventually pulled back, it took him a moment to open his eyes. he was half convinced that if he did, it would be to his bedroom ceiling, the past half an hour all a dream.

instead, he found your fond gaze.

"finally."

he let out a huff of laughter, thumb running over your cheek. "you should stay here tonight."

"w-"

"not like that," he clarified quickly. "you have stitches, you shouldn't go leaping across rooftops tonight. i can take the couch."

"hm." you smoothed out his shirt collar, the barely-there brush of your fingers against his shoulder almost tugging a whine out of him. "or i can take the couch, and then you can take me home in the morning and let me treat you to an actual blueberry muffin."

"are you asking me out?" it was a teasing comment, paired with a tiny smirk meant to fluster you.

but it was also a reality check.

you seemed to catch the second meaning. "yeah, i am. would you, please, let me take you out on a date?"

"i'll have to check my calenda-"

"you're so full of it."

"yeah, probably."

"is that a yes?"

he laughed, bringing his other hand up to squeeze your knee. "yeah, i can let you take me on a date. i could use a good muffin."

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essencering · 3 years ago

Text

↳ summary: "even though you are without a crest, you can still be of use to this family." words your family has repeated over and over again, haunting your thoughts and changing your course in life in ways that have been good, but also worse. ↳ Tags: Female Reader, Sylvain Jose Gautier, SFW, One Another's Personal Problems, Arranged Marriage, Crestless Reader, Drama, Romance (Eventually), Apathetic Reader, Tags To Be Added Slowly.

writer's blurp: wanted to write a short series where sylvain and a crestless reader are stuck in an arranged marriage and care very little for how they view one another. but-- i'm also a sucker for little moments where folks watch out and care for the other.

;; chapter one

You wake up and begin the ritual of your day.

Opening your window, allowing fresh air into your room while you pick a bucket of water (sloshing around inside of it a coarse cotton rag) you had grabbed for use today. You take a deep breath before removing your sleep clothes, setting them in one heap on the floor at the foot of your bed before squatting down to begin wiping the sweat off your body before putting your uniform on.

Each night is the same, you tuck yourself in after saying a prayer to no one in particular, a habit drilled into your actions more than anything real. Your words are hollow, your heart is empty and your mind is haunted by one line over and over again.

"even though you are without a crest, you can still be of use to this family."

It's funny how something said so long ago, by so many others now haunts your sleep as much as it does your waking hours while living in that house. The whispers followed you to the officer's academy at Garreg Mach Monastery.

Not a moment of peace for the wicked, you sigh scrubbing harder at your skin that you needed to just to remove the stench and stick of sweat from your nightmare. You could handle a little bit of irritation from scrubbing and wearing your uniform.

What you couldn't handle, was the eyes that followed you the moment you left your room to attend your class. Whispers similar to that of your family followed you, whispers of why someone like you is able to attend all due to an arrangement between your family and the Gautiers.

To ease you into marriage, what better way than to force two people who never met before the arrangement, by sending them to school? Forcing one another to share a space together, converse, and work together.

Laughable how they assumed it would work. When in history has something like this ever helped two complete strangers get along?

Aside from a few times throughout the week where interactions between you are unavoidable. You stay as far away from your husband to be as possible, going the extra mile to avoid his friends if you are to avoid one, then it's smart to avoid the rest.

It would work in theory if those friends in question would just leave you alone.

Because for some reason if you did not silence the whispers, then they would by either authority in their voice or by funnily enough walking right behind them until the person in question ran away from the classroom or buried their nose in a book.

Ingrid is stubborn, the one whose most determined to see that you have a peaceful school life chasing those away with quick-witted words before taking a seat beside you whenever possible.

The kindness and worry she shows for your well-being you wish that it was fake, but you know in your heart it isn't. You wish it was fake, because it makes you weak, and you show her the same kindness in return.

Dimitri is kind, awkward, and haunted by the past but kind. He asks you of your life, of what you've dreamed, and of the ghosts that haunt you, placing his hand over his heart in saying that here those ghosts wouldn't hurt you so please while you are here you are free.

You would never be free, but you couldn't bring yourself to say that to him. Too kind, too awkward, too haunted and lost in the ghosts that cling to him.

Felix is a vital foil to the group, a cynicism sharp-tongued lone wolf who wishes to devote himself to his swordsmanship and little else. Yet he's constantly there for his friends, even if one sees the interaction's between them as a nuisance, his sigh of relief never goes unmissed.

Felix avoids you similar to how you avoid him, but when it comes to practice he is the first to seek you out. Pushing you ever further, sharp-tongued jabs, a frown, and a crease in his brow to go with each strike. It's in these moments that you wish the world would swallow you whole-- and you realized the only way to avoid Felix entirely would be to skip practice.

So you do just that, and your reward each morning is a glare and a true to his heart Felix insult.

As for your thoughts, on your husband-to-be Sylvain is unique. While he is a perpetual-skirt chaser, but also someone who cares for his friends and is admired by your fellow classmates as an older brother figure. Despite how he is viewed, the young Gautier is much smarter than he would ever admit or allow others to see.

Neither of you holds interest in one another, Sylvain's contempt for you is palpable in both his words and actions. You're lack of response in his treatment of you and blatant disinterest in everything must be infuriating.

You arrive late to class, Byleth's eyes falling on you and their voice calling your name drawing all eyes to you. You feel a shiver go down your spine, but you wave their words away and take a seat next to Ashe who whispers a quite good morning, before going back to whatever he was writing in his book.

You can still feel Byleth's eyes on you, waiting for a response that they would never receive. Rubbing your eyes, you listen focusing on the light coming in through the pane of glass behind Byleth's desk and the chalkboard.

The sun felt nice today, and in combination with the delightful breeze on a warm day was good. You wonder if Linhardt is off dozing somewhere, you should have found his nap spot for today rather than come to class.

It's far too nice outside, to be inside and you are far too unconcerned with today's lesson to attend. Byleth isn't a bad teacher, quiet and unaware of how the Church works, but it makes for a nice change of pace.

You just couldn't bring yourself to care about anything class related, when your reason for being here is to help you grow closer to Sylvain.

Eventually class comes to an end, allowing everyone a small respite to stretch, chat and leave in a small group to go about their day until the next part of the lesson happens later in the evening. You walk with Ashe for a little bit, listening to the young man talk about a letter he sent to his family, somewhere in your walk Mercedes and Annette joined the two of you.

Annette tells you about the lesson offering you her notes if needed so you can copy them, while Mercedes watches you with a keen eye, saying nothing, but offering you kind words before the three of you part ways.

Your feet carry you to the greenhouse, finally, you find peace in a corner far away from the possibility of interactions. You just want to be alone, you just want to breathe. You just want to shake out the claws from your nightmare that linger underneath your skin in silence among flowers.

A moment's respite is all you crave. Yet the sound of footsteps approch you, before stopping right in front of you. You are not even allowed this.

"Dzemael I'm surprised that you even came to class, after sleeping through the majority of the lesson," Sylvain's voice sounds tired as if simply interacting with you is draining to him, and if that's how it is.

Then you won't even offer him a glance or a response.

"I'm not fond of taking on a wife who's unable to even come to class or show anything other than apathy for those around her," Sylvain crouches down to look at the same plant that you remain focused on, "If you fail here, what will you do after this?"

"No matter where I go, or who I meet, the future has closed all of its doors to me. Even if those doors were open, it doesn't matter anyway because there's no place for me to return to," you respond despite not needing to, you do not care for his words and Sylvain does not care for your words, but you find the claws from your nightmare are far too close to the surface for you to stop.

"After this... hopefully I'll find a quiet place hidden away from my family to die in peace. To not live as a pawn in their power game, but maybe as someone with a will to live. Now if you'll excuse me Gautier I wish to be left alone. I'm certain that there's something else you could do, some lady you could chase or woo-- just leave me alone to my thoughts and stop following me."

Your lack of determination to do even the most basic of tasks such as attending class wouldn't reflect badly on Sylvain, it would simply shine a poor light on your own character. Yet he has the gall to speak to you like some petulant child.

When Sylvain didn't move from his spot you did. Catching only a glimpse of his expression before hurrying from the greenhouse, other footsteps falling in time with your own before you break into a run resisting the urge to scream before reaching your room to only forget that you had locked your door.

Frantic you search your uniform pocket to find your key, but in your panic to escape the one chasing after you, you drop the key. Heart in your throat, your eyes sting and you can't breathe the world around you becoming black.

Time has no concept when you pass out, you simply flow with it. Letting it push you to and fro, watching bits of your life play out before you, both good and bad. Memories you wish that you could forget, but because we are humans, reality is ruthless.

And even in our dreams, we will never taste a moment of respite.

You wake up in your room, another day another nightmare. It's dark outside, the window is closed, and your bucket of water is placed to the side, still needing fresh water added to it. Everything is the same, until your eyes land on your desk, a tray of food is sitting on your empty desk an oddity and not one that you would allow to happen. So it was done by whoever put you into bed.

The food is simple and bland-looking, but everything on it is easy to eat and stomach. So you take the tray to your bed, open the window, and nibble at whatever is the most appealing to you at that moment-- it's only while eating you realize that you cannot find your room key.

Despite how you wish to remain in this quite a little space, someone would be up at this hour for you to report your lost key. You nibble a bit more food, then what remains you wrap in a cloth for tomorrow to eat.

Tray in hand you leave your room, walking in the chilled night air you fight back a curse that almost worms its way past your lips, before returning the tray, and slowly making your way to Byleth's rooms to report your lost key. Seteth finds you before you reach Byleth's room, reprimanding you for wandering around the school at night

You explain that this is perfect, confusing Seteth before you jump into telling him that you've misplaced your room key, and ask that he send a request to have it replaced before turning around and walking back to your room. You expected to make this walk back to your room alone, but Setheth followed beside you making sure that you returned to your room safely.

You thank him and Seteth wishes you a good night before saying that they would replace your lost key as swiftly as possible. You lock your door behind you and change into your sleep clothes before curling into your bed keeping your window open to let the cool night air flow into your room.

The chill helps to ease you into sleep.

#fe3h memories #fire emblem x reader #sylvain jose gautier x reader #sylvain x reader #female reader #slowly typing away at this series because i love sylvain #and i wanted to explore/write this kind of dynamic where a slow change happens #it's never stated in this chapter but reader is good with magic swords and the thief skills

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tojiaesth · 4 years ago

Text

boyfriend

gojo satoru x f!reader

summary: you and gojo had some sort of unspoken agreement in which you refused to adhere to labels and instead chose to have fun. except neither of you would ever admit the hold you had on each other.

warning: heavy smut, 18 +, minors dni, fingering, oral (fem receiving), rough handling of reader, marking, dom!gojo, sub!reader, choking/breath play, overstim, raw sex, tummy bulge, ?slight breeding kink, jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

tags: college au, fratboy!gojo, friends with benefits, unlabelled relationships, bisexual!gojo, bisexual!reader, fluff at the end <3

A/N: inspired by ariana herself <3 so i recommend at least listening to the song before you read, if you’re like me and can’t read and listen :p

It was loud. That was the first thing you picked up on before you even entered the sweaty house. Your friends begged you to come, as if there weren’t parties every week and missing one would change the world. You struggled to find a parking space, choosing to walk the rest of the way. The deafening thump of bass could be heard a few blocks down and you wondered how there was never any noise complaints.

Satoru probably threw money at them.

You smiled, it was such a him thing to do. The cold air nipped at your dress, having left your coat in your car. You had chosen to wear an emerald green satin body con dress that stopped mid thigh. It accompanied a criss cross pattern that exposed your back. You first saw it online and had fallen in love, it partly being the reason why you had said yes. You wanted him to see you in the dress, already craving the dark look in his eyes when he was turned on.

Gojo Satoru, college senior, with his charismatic personality had a very big presence at the college. Almost never alone and surrounded by a group of admirers, both men and women fell at his feet. If someone had told you back in your first year that you’d be sleeping with this man on the regular you’d think they were crazy. He honestly, despite being very handsome, was not your kind of man. Too pretty, very cocky and had serious commitment issues, bedding half the campus. But it had started at the beginning of the year, your friendship groups overlapping as you had grown close with Suguru Getou and Shoko Ieiri having been studying the same subject. You found yourself around him a lot, eventually going out with just each other and things quickly progressed.

Soon enough he was between your thighs, lapping at your cunt with fervour and sucking gently on your clit, two slender fingers hitting that spot. He did that a lot, seeming to relish in the way you fell apart on his tongue, your slippery walls pulsating as you softly said his name like a prayer. He’d nonchalantly get up, sometimes not even asking for anything in return and it surprised you. You pegged him as more of a receiver than a giver but it suited you fine.

You became pretty popular on campus as you hung out with them, attending parties and making life long friendships. You usually weren’t someone who slept around, but that quickly changed. So did your care for a steady relationship. You were 21, life was short, you had a great body and a pretty face, opting to have fun.

You found yourself caught in Gojo’s trap, legs wound around his waist on a weekly basis, his hard cock driving into you with such force you thought you’d break. Your legs clenched just thinking about it, a thin layer of slickness coating your panties.

Your thoughts were brought back to reality when you entered the frat house, NalinA by Block B was being blasted at full volume through the house and you already felt a course of excitement run through your veins. You couldn’t wait to let loose and find your friends. The house, just short of a mansion, had been decorated with l.e.d lights, a soft red and blue glow painting your skin. There was alcohol everywhere, sweaty bodies and the strong smell of weed.

“Y/N! Over here.” You looked over to see the majority of your friends on a sofa, catching sight of Satoru with a girl on his lap. His hand was caressing her ass, as she pouted saying something to him. She was pretty, and you tried your best not to care. Their faces were sweaty, with cups in their hands, indicating they had stopped dancing. You walked in their direction, plopping yourself next to the person behind the voice.

“Hey Mei-Mei. You look hot.” You said casually and she automatically pulled you to sit on her knee. You smiled and took her cup, whatever bitter liquid sliding down your throat. You and Mei were another short lived fling, sleeping together a handful of times and besides Satoru, no one else could compare to that sinful mouth of hers. A queen at teasing, she brought her hand to your waist and lightly began tracing shapes with her fingers.

“You look hot, that dress is making me want to do things to you.”

You chuckled as you stared at each other, tensions running high as the song changed to one you were familiar with. You wanted to dance.

“God, please make out.”

You ignored the annoying comment from Sukuna who was sat diagonally from you, blatantly checking you out. You told him to shut up, your mouth twitching as he looked completely unfazed. Looking away, you ran your fingers through Mei’s soft hair,

“Come, let’s dance.” You whispered, breath hot on her ear as she shivered. You loved how easily you could fluster Mei, knowing the more you worked her up the more she’d punish you for it later.

You both got up and your arms were grabbed by Shoko,

“We’re coming, we’d rather not watch Sukuna hunt for a girl like an animal or Gojo practically fuck in front of us.” She said, shuddering and dragging a very amused Getou. Your eyes flickered to Satoru, finding that he was already watching you. The girl was now straddling him and the buttons on his shirt looked undone, his hands rubbing circles on her thighs. He refused to break eye contact with you, kissing her neck as she moaned, smirking as you looked away, grasping Mei’s hand.

You don’t know what he was trying to do, but it pissed you off. It annoyed you more that he’d groan in your ear some nights, grabbing your neck and claiming you were his and his only. Not wanting you to touch or look at anyone else. The next morning? Business as usual as he was all over some girl. You deducted that him saying those things to you were just in the heat of the moment, recalling how your clit would throb as he would rub slow circles, staking his claim. You liked how possessive he could get, the rough sex, and how occasionally he’d surprise you with a gift. All without having to actually be in a relationship.

You didn’t care about labels and neither did he. So why? Why did his eyes say, he wanted you to get jealous? You sighed, these mind games and mixed signals were your least favourite part of Satoru.

The beginning of an all too familiar riff began to thump through the walls and you all squealed in delight. As ‘Do I Wanna Know’ began you swayed your hips and lip synced, literally letting your hair down as Mei came up behind you. Shoko began recording you without your knowledge, watching as your head fell onto Mei’s shoulder, her hands ghosting around the space between your breasts, purposefully ignoring how your nipples hardened as she whispered something lewd into your ear.

“She’s gonna kill you if you post that.” Suguru watched as Shoko posted the video to her story, her eyes shining with amusement as almost instantly people replied asking who you were.

Satoru on the other hand could not take his eyes off of you. He studied you as you wrapped your arms around Mei and he was exasperated. She was addictive, he thought, those pouty and full lips had a hold on him, his dick twitched thinking about them wrapped around him. Her body was something else, those breasts of hers heaving against her dress. Shit. He almost got hard. The girl currently giving him a hickey was just not doing it for him. In fact no girl or guy was, he had tried countless times only his encounters with Y/N fulfilling his desires. In spite of that, he would not tell her this, not wanting to ruin the game of cat and mouse they had going.

“Satoru, let’s go somewhere.” The girl whined, hips grinding against his crotch. He suddenly got up and pushed her off of him,

“Nah, not in the mood. I’m sure Sukuna would be interested. He has a habit of going after my sloppy seconds.” Gojo snapped, sick of the way he was gazing at you, eyes darkened with lust.

He ignored the girls cuss words directed at him as she stormed off and Sukuna snickered, looking up from his phone.

“She’s fuckable but I have my eye on something else tonight.” He thrust his phone in Satoru’s face, only to be met with Shoko’s story, full of Y/N dancing suggestively.

He willed himself not to show anger and hummed,

“Like you could pull her.” His voice dripping with fake amusement as Sukuna tensed in irritation.

Satoru walked in the direction of his friends, still dancing crazily and singing very out of tune to ‘Kiss me more’, you were now dancing with Suguru and laughing loudly as he tried to attempt some sort of dance move so terribly, Satoru could not decipher what it was supposed to be. Your lips were glossy, eyes twinkling as he picked you up and twirled you around, ribs hurting from laughing so much. You never laughed that much with him.

Satoru pursed his lips, he was just so irritated. Suguru put you down when the song finished and you fixed his hair that your arm had messed up,

“Your hairs gone so long now, I love it.” You said cheerily, fingers twirling on a stray strand as Suguru bent down slightly so he could hear you over the music.

“It suits you.” You stated softly, unable to look away from his intuitive eyes. The lights were casting a glow across his face, bringing his jaw to attention as you traced it slowly. He was a different kind of handsome you thought, more your type than Satoru was and you thought about how his eyes were a warm brown, compared to Satoru’s cerulean ones. You scolded yourself internally for still finding ways to think about Satoru, you just couldn’t shake him.

Suguru smirked and focused on the feeling of your hands, now running through his hair and eventually resting on the back of his neck. You smelt so good, he thought, he wanted to kiss you. He leaned down and you realised his intentions, your hands paused on his biceps that were coated in tattoos. As you closed your eyes, thoughts wild and slightly clouded by the shots you did with Shoko, you braced yourself to kiss the god-like man that was Getou Suguru, pulse racing.

“Y/N!” Your head automatically snapped at your name being called, sheepishly looking at Suguru whose eyes were now filled with something you couldn’t quite figure out. Satoru was in front of you both, promptly grabbing your hand and dragging you away. Eyes bewildered you looked back at Suguru who looked entertained at the whole situation. You found yourself at the focus of everyone’s stares, all curious as to why Gojo had a dark look in his eyes.

“Satoru, what the fuck? Let go-“ His large hands were gripping your smaller ones hard, uncomfortably squishing your fingers together. He said nothing, back to you as he hauled you up the stairs and into his room. His door slammed as you stumbled into the dimly lit room, turning around in utter confusion at Gojo’s behaviour.

“Fuck, what is your problem?” You were enraged at how he just did what he pleased with you and how you just let him. You massaged your wrist, now slightly red at Satoru’s force.

“Why the fuck would you try and kiss him? Seriously, Suguru? You’re such a fucking whore.” Gojo clenched his jaw, finding himself even angrier at the thought of you underneath Suguru, moaning, sweat dripping off your backs.

You were baffled. A whore?

“Firstly, you’re literally the definition of a whore and secondly, why the fuck do you care?!” You stepped closer to him, cheeks flushed in anger at Satoru’s audacity,

“You have no fucking right to care about who I fuck. Got it? You’re not my boyfriend.”

Satoru moved closer to you, your nose in line with his chest as the man’s eyes changed suddenly. For once, he had no comeback or witty remark, you were right but he’d had enough. Just the thought of his best friend between your legs snapped him into action and he had to come to terms with his feelings. His fingers lifted your chin, your eyes willing itself not to melt at his touch, goosebumps already littering your arm. He silently moved to your lips, thumb pressing against your mouth, encouraging you to open.

You were so unbelievably confused, this man blew hot and cold. One minute so angry he couldn’t speak and then next initiating a kiss.

“Satoru-“

His lips were against yours before you had time to think, furiously pressing against them and swiping his tongue across. You relaxed into his touch and opened your mouth. His tongue found yours in an instant and lightly sucked it, your breathless moans pleasuring his senses as his hands pulled your body closer to him. He explored your body, cupping your ass while you simultaneously wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers drowning in his soft white locks. Eventually he pulled away, cupping your face gently like you were a porcelain doll,

“I don’t want you to see anyone else or kiss them like that. I’m not playing any more games. You’re mine.” He stated firmly, blue eyes framed by his ash coloured lashes, gazing into your soul.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tease him. Gojo...was serious. All those extra knowing glances you’d give each other, the fiery arguments, the passionate sex, the pang of jealousy at his lips on another girls neck and the way his eyes would linger a little too long when you spoke to a guy, you realised the both of you were stupid. Too busy trying to convince yourselves you didn’t care you both buried your thoughts away, afraid to articulate them in case you were rejected.

You found yourself repeating after him, his eyes almost hypnotising you as you stuttered,

“I-i’m yours.”

Satoru lightly kissed you on the lips and motioned you to jump up, supporting your legs as you wrapped them securely around his waist. He gingerly placed you on his bed, hovering over you as his hands slowly rid up your leg, ghosting around your inner thigh and you suppressed a moan. His touch was magnetic, something as simple as stroking your thigh with Satoru becomes so much more, a tingly sensation jolting through you when his hands brushed between your clothed folds. Meanwhile he began kissing his way down, starting with your neck and sucking furiously at the spot above your collarbone. You mewled against him as he licked the now marked spot, your hips desperately finding his to grind against.

“Patience, baby. I’m taking my time with you.”

You whined at his remark, you just needed him inside you, now.

“Such a whiny brat.” His voice slipped through your ears like silk as he slowly slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders, the new stimuli adding to the experience. You were never more glad to have not worn a bra. He focused on your exposed breasts, nipples hard and swollen and he groaned at the sight.

A warm sensation reached your nipples and you cried out in pleasure, looking down at Satoru lapping up your soft mounds. His seductive gaze ripped through you as he began to trace slow circles with his tongue. His fingers kept your other breast occupied, rolling around your left nipple with his fingers, constantly switching sides and worshipping them.

His attention switched to your lower stomach, kissing your skin with affection as you anticipated his lips between your thighs. You could feel the damp spot slowly spreading on your panties and the swell of your clit, begging to be touched.

“Fuck, Satoru you tease.” You breathed out in gaspy moans, he had completely removed your dress by now and was blowing warm breaths against your knickers. Satoru brought a single digit to rub against the wet spot, moaning as he felt the tent in his pants. He loved teasing you but it required self control, wanting nothing more than to release his large cock from its restraints and into your warm hole, throbbing at the thought.

He finally pulled your panties to the side at your delight and your whimpers filled the room as his fingers brushed against your soaked clit. He played around with your pussy, stroking up and down and noting the creamy juices that were flowing out your hole. The sight of his fingers coated in your juices and he almost came right there. The lewd squelching of your cunt was slightly covered up by your cries of pleasure as he entered two slender fingers inside you, stimulating your sensitive walls. He reached down and took your clit into his mouth, humming at the taste.

“F-fuck, right there Toru” You moaned, attempting to wriggle but Satoru quickly used his arms to clamp your thighs into place, his sensual mouth causing white dots to appear in your vision. Your stomach fluttered at the slow, familiar build up of your climax, not even embarrassed that he had only been eating you out for five minutes. You were just so sensitive today and paired with Satoru laying claim to you, your body was responding to each and every one of his touches.

“Ah, k-keep going baby, fuck. You’re so good at it.” The praises fell from your lips as the deep pleasure in your stomach changed, indicating you were near.

Satoru was persistent, his insatiable need to feel your cunt quiver against his tongue caused him to add one more digit, scissoring his fingers against your gummy walls. He could feel you frantically clenching, chuckling at his inability to move as fast as his fingers were in a death trap. He kept his eyes on you, watching as your hand came up to your mouth to stifle your sobs, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“I’m close.” You whispered and you made a mistake of looking down at Satoru, his tongue was pressing down against your sensitive nub, saliva dripping onto his bed. His fingers went even faster, determined to make you cum.

“Shit, shit, shit. I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me princess.”

That was all you needed. You legs squeezed frantically against his head, the euphoric sensations causing your back to refuse to rest against the bed. Satoru paid no mind to your repetitive whimpers as you began to come down from your high, his lips still stubbornly attached to your clit. It was too much, the previously pleasurable feel was now borderline painful, his sticky fingers removing themselves from your cunt.

You legs jolted occasionally each time he purposely grazed the bundle of nerves, continuing his efforts by using his tongue to tease around the now sensitive area, chuckling when your hips wriggled.

“Delicious.” His velvety tongue swiped his lips and he brought his fingers into your mouth. The tangy but familiar taste of your undoings were accompanied by his soft fingers, swirling around your tongue until your saliva created a mess.

“Shit, you’re so hot.” He groaned, the twitching of his cock was unrelenting. You pressed your legs together, the achy feeling of need returning. Reaching to kiss him, your hands started to undo his belt buckle,

“I want you.” You whispered, unable to look away from his eyes.

His lecherous eyes stared back at you, his fingers curling around your back as he brought you closer, now hovering above you.

“I want you too.”

In one swift movement, his cock was freed and he entered you, the new feeling causing you to cry out as he slowly bottomed out.

“Shit, you’re clenching like crazy baby.”

You couldn’t even reply, his thick shaft splitting you open, Satoru stared down at how you sucked him in, a creamy ring of your juices at the base of his cock. You felt him harden even more, he hadn’t wasted any time by helping you adjust. He started a rough pace, watching your perky tits bounce as he reached down and placed a nipple into his mouth. You were truly addicting, he thought, your whimpers becoming louder with the sticky sound of your cunt. Your pussy seemed to fit him like a glove, Satoru’s eyes wandered towards your soft tummy, at the faint bulge of his devouring and his eyes widened, using a hand to press against it and his ears welcomed your high pitched gasps.

“What’s the matter baby girl?” He cooed, chuckling at your stifled sobs and flushed cheeks.

“‘is too much...” You managed, barely able to communicate as he fucked you dumb.

You were so sexy, he thought.

You scooted away, his rough movements almost resulting in your head banging against the headboard but without missing a beat Satoru pulled you back, cock sinking into you with a new sensation.

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You’re gonna lie there and take it.”

His hands ghosted at your waist, using the soft tissue as a grip as he forcefully used your body, eyes unable to look away at how you took his thick, veiny member. Your pussy twitched as he licked a stripe at the side of your neck,

“Oh...you like that?” He muttered, sucking on your weak spot, he groaned when you tightened against him, knowing the tip of his cock was red and angry, your walls were too much.

You blink, eyes glossy and lips swollen from his kisses, Satoru’s marks were littered across your body, evidence of his ravishing as he continued his strong pace, cock driving into you with hunger. Your moans changed pitch,

“t’s...too much...can’t...too big.” You babbled, a new, insurmountable pleasure was ripping into your stomach.

“It’s too big?,”

Satoru wrapped his slender fingers around your neck, pressing down lightly as he smirked,

“I know.”

Your breath was slowly snatched from you as he gripped your neck harder, it somehow heightening the feeling of him around your cunt. His groans were turning you on, you always loved how vocal Satoru was.

Satoru paid attention to you, removing his hands and watching as you gasped for breaths. He grinned at how crazy your pussy went whenever he did that, he had really met his match. His cock twitched, indicating his nearing climax and you creamed shamelessly around him when his thumb lightly brushed your rosy clit. Your legs had gone to jelly at this point, but you securely clamped them around Satoru’s waist, bringing him even closer as your eyes closed in pleasurable agony.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” The way you cried and babbled nonsense, mouth messy with saliva as you drooled around his fingers, Satoru pressed at the pad of your tongue, cerulean eyes gleaming at where you connected. As he sinked into you again and again, the intemperate need to feel you squirt around him, he took your soft mounds into his mouth once more and before he knew it, you let out a long, drawn out moan as you found your release.

The white hot pleasure against your stomach snapped and as you orgasmed for the second time, a new warm sensation splashed against Satoru’s cock. Your juices dripped onto the bed, your pussy quivering and legs shaking as you rode it out.

“Fuck.” His azure eyes twinkled with amazement and you didn’t think he could possibly get any harder, as his member remained snug against your cunt.

Satisfied at your mess and how your slimy walls squeezed so torturously against him, Satoru’s own release was not far behind. With one last sound of pleasure, another warm feeling filled your pussy, spurts of the familiar white liquid spilling out of you as he slowed down his thrusts, emptying his balls into you with his repeated moans.

He pulled out, watching the results of his orgasm dribble onto his sheets. Using his fingers, he pushed the remaining liquid deep into you as a low moan escaped your lips. He brought his coated fingers to your mouth, and you licked them clean, humming against him.

As he hovered over you, his captivating eyes caught in the moonlight peaking through the curtains, illuminating his spacious room. He was so beautiful, you thought, mind now unclouded as your high disappeared. Instead, a lighter but warm feeling fluttered through you as Satoru bent down to give you butterfly kisses across your stomach.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered and he felt you smile against the top of his head, white tendrils tickling your nose as he placed himself on your tummy, careful not to crush you.

A comfortable silence lingered in the air, for the first time neither of you needed to fill it in with pointless words. You stroked his hair, content that he was still here and showing you affection even after sex, a concept new to the both of you.

After some time, with the both of you deep in thought about each other, Satoru’s head lifted and he made eye contact with you.

“I meant what I said earlier. I know this is new to the both of us so we can take it slow and I’ll probably fuck things up a few times but...I really do care about you, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened, as he glanced nervously at you. You had never seen him so vulnerable before and somehow it made you like him even more.

You extended your arm, your fingers tapping against his cheek,

“I care about you a lot too, Satoru. More than I’d like to admit.” You looked away, confused at how quickly the atmosphere changed from the desperate grappling of hands against skin to soft eyes and shy kisses. You were shy around him. You really did care about him but you also weren’t the best at articulating your thoughts, Satoru was always one upping you with his smooth talking.

His smile softened before his eyes changed, amusement dancing across his face.

“Well why wouldn’t you like me? I’m amazing.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, his hands grabbing you and placing warm kisses around your neck. You melted into his touch, only now realising he hadn’t even properly undressed, unlike you who was completely bare.

He paused as you wriggled uncomfortably in the messy and slightly damp sheets, the both of you a tangle of limbs.

“Is this a bad time to ask if you’re on the pill?”

You stared at him.

“You are such an idiot.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you

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bokugaos · 4 years ago

Text

blessed is the man.

characters: konoha, bokuto

length: 2.3k

tw — incest, alcohol, aphrodisiacs, voyeurism, oral (m. receiving), nipple play, lactation

summary: konoha slips something in your sake and things don’t go as planned, however it looks more than either of you can handle.

Working for the Bokuto family is not all bad. They pay well. Coming from old money means they are rather influential as they have roots in most businesses and fields, guaranteeing that they stay in the top 5% of the country. Any illegal activities they do are actually rather negligible.

Most of the dirty work is still handled by the head of the clan and his son, leaving his grandchildren out of the misery of the business world domination. The two eldest granddaughters have been following the exact footsteps as they have come of age, each in charge of a different branch of the oligarchy.

The title of the future successor would eventually fall on the only grandson, who is actually a great authoritative figure when given the right moment and opportunity, granted, if there are no distractions around. One would argue that as the youngest of the family, you’re the one most neglected, unbound by any responsibilities and most family matters.

The empire’s grandchildren are a feat to be ogled—though that one is not necessarily described by the person who introduced Konoha to the job. Rather, it is a quiet perk that he comes to realize as soon as he steps foot in the estate, catching eyes full of you walking along the hallway with your kimono restricting wide movements, and he follows your shadow as you move rather eloquently under the moonlight.

He goes back to the same wing the following night, and the night after that, and after, but he doesn’t get to see you. Instead, what he has been getting is the sight of the grandson drunkenly stumbling in after a night in town, clothes hanging off of him sticky with spilled alcohol.

Bokuto is easy, open with affection, most often drunk and not caring as long as he gets to have fun with his friends or his bodyguards. Konoha doesn’t understand how the assigned right hand of his, Akaashi, he remembers his name, puts up with the young master. But Bokuto is actually bearable, he supposes, he is just ridiculously energetic and bubbly and up to anything that even remotely promises to take him away from handling his actual duties as the future heir.

His little sister, on the other hand…

Konoha can tell that you are just as slutty, but just more stingy about it. Under the second eldest daughter’s provision, your older sister who quite naturally drinks sake every night just because it’s her hobby—routine, as she calls it—you get drunk, too, but in the confines of your room where your kimono will slip deeper and deeper off your shoulders until it is hanging off of you sloppily and showing off the curves of your tits.

Sometimes you’ll stumble your way out into the gardens where you will lie in the wet grass, legs spread and giving anybody walking past a nice view of your luscious thighs because of course the youngest in the Bokuto empire is a raging slut that does not make a habit out of wearing underwear.

But—you’re as oblivious about those tender, smooth skin as you are about everything else in your goddamn life.

It is your own fault, really, what is happening to you. You’re forcing their hands on the issue—if only you had been more forthcoming with spreading your legs, and the staff wouldn’t have had to resort to such dire measures…

Only that’s not true. Not really. Of course they could have just let the issue lie and watch you come out of hiding; waiting until you’re in a drunken stupor so they can creep out and jerk off on you; maybe drape you around their shoulders like some perverse hunting trophy, showing your tight little ass off to a camera and spreading your cheeks wide so they can take pictures of the cunt you’re so stingy with.

The truth of the matter is, though, that Konoha doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be a lewd little fuck doll, head lolling and drooling onto your own tits. He wants you aware and needy, begging for his cock and whining for his cum, crying in despair when you’ve can’t have either of them because he’ll deny you as fucking long as he can before he’ll fuck your cunt loose and sloppy.

It’s absolutely, hilariously easy to do. He gets the substance on his errand out into the city, buying them from a seedy mechanic in between jobs of collecting extortion money and fixing spare parts.

Then he mixes them into the order of sake, preferring to make sure you will be too drunk to care about any taste that might be skewered by the added dose of a chemical cocktail.

Lucky for him, you’re actually drinking alone tonight, no patronizing older sister in sight. So he, finally, brings the bottle to you, already sitting with your legs spread wide, kimono rucked up on your thighs.

And then—he just has to wait for it to hit your bloodstream. For you to get squirmy and short of breath, hips fucking helplessly into the air and nipples hard and escaping from the heavy folds of your kimono.

He waits for you to get hot and needy, to call for someone to alleviate the heat surging in your little body, and then he will descend upon you like a vulture, urging your thighs apart and fucking you until your pretty cunt is a sloppy, gaping hole—

You do get restless. Your shoulders are trembling, and your nipples plump up into fat little nubs that beg for some sharp teeth to bite and pull at them—but when you start to sing, drunkenly crawling around the tatami mats of your floor on all fours, crying like a cat in heat, you do not call for a servant to alleviate your need.

You call for your brother.

And Bokuto Koutarou, dutiful now as Konoha has never quite seen elsewhere, comes running. He watches, dismayed, horrified and horny, as your brother takes the situation in and just… has at it.

In his eyes, you can’t be more than drunk; his slut of a sister that calls for a fuck once the alcohol has finally reached a threshold that makes your inhibitions slip like the heavy fabric of your kimono slides down your shoulders. He doesn’t know about the thing Konoha has slipped you; doesn’t know that the latter has primed you to spread your legs for him so he can pull you on his cock and make you piss yourself with how good you think you’re getting it.

So in Bokuto’s mind, he has to simply be a deviant that takes advantage of his drunk little sister—and Konoha wonders if that is even worse than what he has been planning to do to you.

“Imouto,” Bokuto croons, hands hovering over your naked shoulders as you become aware of your visitor and turn around, glassy eyes fixing on him with desperate intensity. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling for me?”

There’s a sweaty sheen crawling up down from your hairline and up from your collar, making you feel so stuffy that you can’t keep your eyes open fully—but Bokuto doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t even seem to take notice, because he has a goal; a mission—and that is to get in his little sister’s cunt, free and unhindered, no inhibition.

You are uncoordinated, but fuelled with hot, needy determination, you manage to grab at his pants and drag them down his thighs. Bokuto’s cock is nice and plump already, and fills easily enough as you croon at it, lipping sloppily at the shaft while leaning your head against his thigh.

It looks like the two of you have done this a million times. Bokuto’s hand falls into your hair, idly stroking through it and untangling the little tie from the ends so he can muss it properly. There is no hesitation; no awkwardness. Just Bokuto tilting his hips forward a little and using his grip on your hair to guide your mouth along his rapidly fattening cock.

Bokuto is using you like a whore he’s paid for the night. He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling you away far enough that he can start to pop just the tip of his cock between your plump lips, then pull it away from you again after just a few desperate suckles and uncoordinated lashes of your slippery tongue.

“Damn… you’re drooling so much today.” He whispers when he sees the steady drip down your chin. You just stare at him, looking brain dead and horny, whining when you paw the folds of your kimono aside and show him your pussy shyly, hoping he’d do something about how incredibly wet it has become.

It’s only then that Bokuto starts to pause and question the situation. Crooning at you and pushing you to lie on you back; asking you if you’re not feeling well, but also not stopping to touch you, gently slapping at your cheek to make you open your eyes and stare at him blearily as his other hand travels down and gropes your tits.

Apparently the young master has some standards that involve his hopelessly drunk play things not being absolutely comatose as he fucks them. You are gurgling breathlessly, mindlessly arching your tits into his hand, your hips grinding up happily from where the folds of your kimono are parted, dripping steadily and stickily.

Bokuto has taken to caging you between his knees, holding your jaw in a tight grip to make sure you keep staring at him while he pinches your nipples mean enough to make you cry out even in your drunken, aphrodisiac stupor.

He feels something warm and wet hit his chest, and he looks down in confusion, mouth dropping open on a soft, mesmerized ‘o’ as he sees the quite literally milky liquid slide down his pecs where it hit him. His eyes travel to his hand, thumb and forefinger still pinched around your swollen nipple.

Your wet swollen nipple.

“What the fuck, are you...?” Bokuto’s voice breaks, higher and a little panicked. He lets go of your jaw with his other hand, grabbing at your tits and squeezing until you’re whining and squirming. Milking you. Losing his goddamn mind as liquid starts rolling from your ripe teats as you sob and artlessly fuck the air.

“Niichan, please..!” Voice trembling, you defeatedly move one of your hands over his, placed over your swollen nipple, the area puffy and supple under his fingers.

Konoha wanted to curse; Bokuto’s hands grabbing at your tits were a big obstruction to his view enough, and now your hand just adds to his frustration. He watches closely as Bokuto pinches your nubs and you moan, open mouthed and filthy, your head tipping back as milk squirts onto his hand. The sweet scent intensifies and you shudder at the feel of warm liquid trickling down his arm.

Not even pausing to think about it, Bokuto brings his arm up to his face and licks the milk off, an acute sweetness exploding in his mouth. A choked grunt distracts him from his reverie and he looks up to meet your unfocused stare. It sounds very distant, yet very .. present at the same time.

Silently catching his breath, Konoha alternates between staring cautiously at Bokuto, and sending contemplating peeks at your swollen breasts. But it seems that the young master is equally as distracted by the puffy, shiny nipple right in his face. A single bead of white is gathering and it is so tempting, Konoha wants to cry from frustration.

The arousal is so potent and thick in the air, he can almost taste it in the back of his throat. He’s not sure what Bokuto wants to do to you, but with the way his cock is already so rigidly twitching, the outcome seems guaranteed.

Bokuto drags his tongue through the sticky mess on your chest, taking his time to circle your swollen nipples, his gaze steady on your face. Keening desperately, you thrust a hand into his hair and tug him closer. He wraps his lips around the raised peak, flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive flesh. More warm sweetness bursts into his mouth, judging by the way you cry out and start whimpering even louder.

Konoha nearly slams his fist to the door but settles with a string of curses beneath his breath, of how he’s supposed to be kneeling there, taking your nipples in his mouth, tasting the sweet milk your body is so eagerly offering.

Not that both Bokuto and you seem capable of noticing anything else right now. Your face is contorted in bliss, mouth open on a nearly endless moan and your hips keep stuttering against his knee—the one he’s using to keep your thighs apart—craving for more friction.

It only takes a minute of the combined sensation on your nipples, one being sucked so thoroughly, circled and flicked with his warm tongue, and the other being teased endlessly by Bokuto’s tireless fingers for you to arch up, screaming, body straining as you come hard under him, wetting his thighs with your slick.

Amazed, Bokuto shoves his already wet hand down to your pussy. He looks like he is floating, the euphoric taste of your sweet milk combined with the nectar from your cunt hitting his taste buds.

Konoha just has to sit and stare from the gap between the sliding doors, mouths softly gaping, cock hard at the knowledge that the chemicals he has mixed into your sake must have induced it; proving that he can quite make your body do more, just like how he’s made you lactate like a cow.

And Bokuto just laps it all up as if he has any right to it.

Life is so unfair sometimes.

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