#really been feeling my grasp on the world slipping thank god | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kikyoupdates · 2 months ago

Text

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑏𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

prologue | story masterlist | next

Itadori helps you to your feet, and you can’t help but stare at your hand, at the way that it’s tightly grasping his. Even now, it still feels like a dream. You’re actually holding Itadori Yuji’s hand, like it’s no big deal.

Honestly, it’s almost impossible not to fangirl.

But perhaps it’s a good thing that your nose is bleeding right now (not really), because it prevents you from making a total fool of yourself, and so, with great reluctance, you let go of Itadori’s hand and start walking.

“Man, I’m really sorry about this,” Itadori apologizes again, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I feel awful. I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I know apologizing doesn’t actually help much, but I’m seriously sorry, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you!”

Yes, your nose hurts like a bitch, but being kicked with that soccer ball allowed you to meet him, so in the grand scheme of things, you’re not complaining.

Still, there’s a lot of blood, so you definitely need to see the school nurse.

It’s actually for the best that Itadori is walking with you and guiding you along, his hand resting gently against your back in case you sway unsteadily and trip over your own feet. Without him, you wouldn’t have a damn clue where you’re going. It’s the first time you’ve ever stepped foot in this school, after all. Based on what those girls said earlier, it sounds like you’re a recent transfer student or something…? That’s a rather convenient plot device. Although this whole situation is so ridiculous that you would expect nothing less, really.

“Just a bit further,” Itadori encourages. He offers you a bright smile, and you have to squint through your eyes, because he may as well the sun. His protagonist status couldn’t be any more obvious.

Eventually, you arrive at the infirmary, and Itadori promptly slides the door open and pokes his head into the room.

“Um, excuse me? Miss nurse? There’s a student here who got hurt pretty badly, and she needs help.”

There’s no response. You follow him and step inside the room. Sure enough, it’s empty, so you can only assume the nurse isn’t here right now. She’s off doing god-knows what. Seriously, what is it with school nurses and never being around to do their jobs?

“Uh-oh,” you say, a few droplets of blood slipping through the cracks of your fingers and splattering onto the floor. “I don’t feel so good…”

You’re hit by a sudden wave of dizziness, and Itadori catches you in his arms before you can fall onto the floor. Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer to carry you earlier. You already know from watching the anime how abnormally strong he is. He lifts you up as if you’re weightless, then gently places you down on one of the beds.

“Uh, crap,” Itadori mumbles, brows pulling together in concern. “I’m not that good with this kind of stuff, but for now… just lie down, okay? I’ll get you some tissues.”

You watch him scurry around the room, nearly knocking things over in the process, but he returns to your bedside before long, offering you a needlessly large pile of tissues.

…actually, considering how bad your nosebleed is, those tissues still might not be enough.

“Thanks,” you say, shifting onto your side so that you can face him. You grab a few tissues and press them to your poor, aching nose.

What a terrible first impression. Here you are, having finally met one of your favorite characters of all time, with blood gushing down your face. It’s incredibly unflattering, you have to admit. Most people would probably think it’s pretty gross. You’re lucky that Itadori is the nicest, friendliest person ever.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes for the millionth time. The poor guy looks guilty beyond belief. It’s not his fault that he’s got superhuman strength. He can blame the author of Jujutsu Kaisen for that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, still holding the tissues close to your nose, so your voice comes out a bit muffled. “Accidents happen. I’ll live.”

“But still! You look like you’re really suffering, and I just—” He stops to sigh. “Anyways, it’s my bad. I can’t change what happened. I just wish I knew a better way to help.”

“Seriously, I’m okay,” you insist. “I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up over it. Um… earlier, I heard someone say your name. Itadori, right? I’m [Name].”

You obviously already know his name. You know even more about him than he does, to be honest. You know what the future holds in store for him, and how soon, his life will change forevermore.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Name].” Itadori chuckles weakly, hanging his head in defeat. “If only we’d met on better terms. After today, I swear I’m never playing soccer ever again. I’m going on strike! Even if those guys keep pestering me to play with them, it won’t happen!”

“There’s really no need to go that far. I promise I’ll be fine.” Hesitantly, you pull the tissues away from your nose. It seems like the bleeding has mostly stopped. “See? I’m already getting better. This is no biggie.”

“Damn. You’re really tough,” Itadori marvels. “Most people wouldn’t be as calm as you. It’s badass!”

No, I’m just too busy fangirling over you right now.

You obviously keep your thoughts to yourself, but it’s impossible to fully suppress the smile that keeps rising to your lips. None of this makes any sense, and truthfully, you can’t help but wonder what happened in the real world—the world you’re from. You wonder about how your parents and friends are reacting to your disappearance, or if you’ve even disappeared at all. Maybe this is some sort of alternate reality. Maybe you’re living within both worlds, simultaneously, without even realizing it.

Ugh. It’s probably best not to think too hard about it. This whole thing is way too trippy.

"The nurse still isn’t here,” Itadori remarks. “I guess it is lunchtime. Well, either way, I’ll stay and wait with you until she’s back.”

“I appreciate it,” you smile.

Obviously, the canon plot of Jujutsu Kaisen has yet to kick off, because this is just an ordinary high school, which means he hasn’t met Fushiguro or Gojo at this point. It also means that he’s incapable of seeing curses. But for some reason, you are.

You were able to see that weird insect-like curse from before, when no one else could. That means that you must at least have an above-average amount of cursed energy, right? The curse also ran away when you approached it. Maybe that’s why? Because it sensed that you were aware of it?

Who knows, really. But you suppose it’s a good thing that you’re able to perceive curses. There are some exceptionally dangerous ones out there, and you feel much more at ease knowing that you won’t be completely blind to them.

For a little while, you just stare at Itadori. You make a point of studying all his features, the same features you’ve only ever been able to glimpse across a screen, or while flipping through the pages of a manga. It’s so surreal that you’re able to hold a conversation with him like this. It’s strange—but also exhilarating—to see him looking your way and to know that the smile on his face is directed towards you.

But… all that being said, you know what kind of world Jujutsu Kaisen is. You know how incredibly dangerous the plot will become, and how your life can easily be put at risk. Every fan dreams of being able to interact with their favorite characters, but just because you’re now living in a fictional world, it doesn’t mean you have a death wish.

You won’t be able to spend much time with Itadori. Soon, he’ll go off to Jujutsu High, and you’ll probably never see him again. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even talk after this. The only reason you met was because of some fortunate accident that granted you the rare opportunity to speak to him. He’s a popular guy, after all. There are plenty of other people he’ll be spending his time with.

Still, it was nice while it lasted. You should be content with just getting to meet him at all. You should be grateful for an opportunity that normally wouldn’t exist.

“Oh, there she is,” Itadori perks up. It seems like the nurse has just returned, and he stands up and hastily bows to her. “I’m so sorry! I accidentally kicked [Name] in the face with a soccer ball, and she got really hurt because of me! Please take a look at her to make sure she’s okay!”

“You did what?” the nurse blinks, and she hurriedly glances over at you to find you flashing her a thumbs-up, with a wad of bloody tissues pressed to your nose. A heavy sigh falls from her lips. “Oh, good grief.”

“It looks worse than it is,” you reassure.

“Let me be the judge of that, please. You should run along and enjoy what’s left of your lunchtime,” she tells Itadori. “Thank you for bringing her. I’ll take care of it, so don’t worry.”

Itadori frowns. “I hope she’ll be alright. Is there anything at all I can help with? I’ll stay behind if you need me to, just so I can—”

“Everything will be fine,” the nurse insists, unscrewing a jar filled with cotton balls. “Classes will be starting soon, so just let me handle this. Alright?”

“Yeah. Alright. I’m sure you know best.” Itadori looks back at you once more. He smiles in a way that conveys how bad he still feels. “I’ll get going now, [Name]. Again, I’m really sorry for what happened. I hope you feel better soon.”

He leaves moments later, and you exhale softly. This was a remarkably coincidental meeting. The two of you hardly know each other, and you doubt another opportunity like this will arise. It was destined to be a one-time thing. That’s what you instinctively believe.

But of course, you’re wrong.

“[Name], hey! Good morning!”

You blink repeatedly. It’s a brand-new day, and you’re back at school again. Yesterday you went home to find that your parents in this world look exactly like your real parents, except, well, they’re not. They act like them, too. Mostly, at least. In a way, it’s reassuring to have them around, but since they aren’t as bewildered as you are by this new world, you can tell they haven’t been isekai’d. They’re just kind of here. Like placeholders, or something.

Anyways, nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. You had the same kind of interactions with your parents as you normally would. You know better than to question all the semantics, so you’re just going to go with the flow and make the most of this situation.

But right now, you’re rightfully taken aback, because Itadori is grinning ear-to-ear while he waves to you.

“Um, hey,” you reply, blinking yet again. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Itadori keeps smiling. “By the way, how are you feeling today? I heard you went home yesterday after lunch to get some rest, but the nurse told me your nose wasn’t broken or anything, which is a relief.”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you nod. “Apparently it’s not uncommon to get a nosebleed after getting hit in the face. It doesn’t always mean it’s broken. So, I don’t need to go to the hospital to get it realigned or anything. Which is good, because I was really dreading that. I heard it hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m sure it does,” Itadori laughs. He stops himself, though, looking very sheepish all of a sudden. “But, uh… seriously, I’m really sorry about what happened. I feel like I shouldn’t be joking around after what I did to you.”

Aw. What a cutie.

He’s a sweetheart, no doubt about it. You wish you could express how much you’re grateful just for the opportunity to even talk to him, but if you tell him the truth, he’ll definitely think you’re crazy. And so will everyone else.

“Don’t stress about it,” you smile. “There’s just a bit of swelling and slight bruising. I’ll be good as new in no time.”

Itadori beams at you. “You’re so nice, [Name]! Thanks so much for not holding this against me. I’ll try to figure out a way to make it up to you in the meantime.”

You keep trying to reassure him that there’s really no need, but he seems determined to right his wrongs. Together, you walk into the school building, quickly lock up some of your belongings, then you head to the classrooms.

“This is my class,” you say, stopping in front of one of the rooms. Yesterday you skimmed through some of your relevant school documentation, like your student ID, enrollment papers, etcetera. You’re a new transfer student, so thankfully, there were a bunch of papers lying around at home for you to consult.

Itadori tilts his head to the side. “Weird. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you. I stop by here pretty often. A few of my friends are in this class.”

“I just transferred in recently, so that’s probably why.”

“Oh, right. I think I remember hearing that we got a new transfer student. Are you liking it so far? I mean, apart from getting kicked with a soccer ball, obviously.”

You chuckle softly. “It’s been… good. Um, yeah. I have no complaints.”

Mostly because my memories of this place don’t date back any farther than yesterday.

The hallways are bustling with students hurrying to get to class, so regretfully, it doesn’t look like you have much more time to loiter around and chat.

“I guess I should head to my classroom now,” Itadori says. “But I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better! I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

“Yeah, see you around,” you smile.

He walks off, and within moments of stepping away from you, some other student comes up to him and drapes an arm around his shoulder. He’s absurdly popular, of course. The kind of person that others naturally gravitate towards.

You smile, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It’s still crazy how this is even happening right now. Talking to him always leaves you breathless, in a sense. It leaves you feeling giddier than you can even put into words.

Even though your nose is still a bit sore, you’re in such good spirits that it hardly even fazes you, so you turn around with a spring in your step.

Only to hastily clear your throat.

“Um, sorry if this is a weird question, but… does anyone know which desk I sit at?”

Lunch rolls around, and Itadori returns.

It turns out that when he said he’d see you again soon, he meant really soon. You watch, mouth agape, as he excitedly waves to you from your classroom’s doorway.

“[Name]!” he calls out. “[Name], hey! Over here!”

He’s as expressive as ever, and your classmates don’t even look surprised that he’s calling your name with such enthusiasm, despite you having only just transferred in. Itadori’s so friendly that it’s practically a given he’ll get along with everyone.

You walk over and give him a curious look. “Itadori? What’s going on?”

“Nothing much,” he grins. “Just wanted to ask if you wanted to eat lunch together. My treat! It’s the least I can do for you, all things considered.”

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to. I packed a lunch from home,” you say, gesturing towards the bento box on your desk.

He scratches his cheek. “Hm, okay. Well, I guess I won’t buy you lunch today, but I’ll definitely do it next time! Did you want to eat together anyways?”

No way.

You can’t believe this is actually happening. It’s crazy enough that you were able to meet him in the first place, but now he’s even going out of his way to seek you out? You suspect it’s mainly because he feels guilty for injuring you and wants to make sure you’re okay, but still.

Itadori Yuji could actually become your friend?

“Y-Yes,” you blurt, immediately cringing at how excited you sound. “Um, yes. Thank you for inviting me. I’d love to eat lunch with you.”

“Awesome!”

His grin shows no sign of disappearing, and you race back into the classroom to quickly grab your bento box, heart fluttering all the while.

Together, you walk through the hallways, and it looks like he’s leading you someplace. You can only assume it must be his usual lunch spot.

Eventually, he stops in front of another classroom. It has a big plaque above it that reads Home Economics, but there’s also a paper plastered to the door. A paper that says something else entirely.

Before you can even comment, Itadori slides the door open and looks back at you, grinning yet again.

“Welcome… to the Occult Research Club.”

prologue | story masterlist | next

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

🔮 main masterlist! ♡ story masterlist

205 notes · View notes

kentoavenue · 1 year ago

Text

grateful - gojo satoru

"whatever you're thinking of, save it for tomorrow. go to sleep."

you release a heavy exhale, before pulling your arm from under your pillow and flipping over, eyes meeting stark blue ones.

you've always been mesmerized by how sky-like his eyes are, but even more so when even with the lights off, they still manage to glow. as if heaven itself lied behind those orbs.

satoru is blessed, you think. but you feel even more blessed than him for being the only one who gets to see him like this—so at peace and laid bare for you.

"you're not asleep either," you reply with half-lidded eyes.

you're tired, sure, but there was no way you'd find sleep anytime soon. not with the war waging in your head right now.

"tell me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours," satoru says, bringing his hand up to tuck back a lock of hair behind your ear. he rests his hand there, too.

you suck in a quiet breath, not sure how to proceed.

ever since he came back, you've been holding him more dear than usual, afraid he'd slip past your fingers again. you don't tell him that, though. sure, he knows it anyway, but saying it out loud seems like it'd jinx everything to hell again.

"i'm thinking of you."

he blinks up at you, silver eyelashes fluttering against his eyelid. god, he's beautiful.

"what about me?"

you should be grateful.

grateful that you have the strongest as your other half. grateful that he doesn't need to look over his shoulder. grateful that you never had to truly worry if satoru was going to make it home some nights.

grateful that unlike most other sorcerers, satoru never had to walk hand-in-hand with death. grateful that death hasn't knocked on his door even when the world fell to chaos. grateful that he's still here with you, breathing and warm and alive.

but you're not grateful tonight. not with the battle he's announced in several hours.

you don't want to say it, but you say it anyway, "don't be a hero."

a silent pause, before, "baby, you—"

"no, let me say it, satoru. i have to say it out loud," you whisper.

his hand leaves your cheek and slides down to rest above your waist. you relish the feeling as much as you can, commiting to memory the weight and warmth of it. you wish you two could stay like this forever.

"okay," he nods, shifting closer.

it's quiet enough that you can hear your own heartbeat, maybe even his, and you hope he can hear them too.

"i would never tell you not to go and save megumi," you start. you hesitate for a moment, but continue, voice quivering ever so slightly. "but you have to remember your life means just as much."

satoru's listening, but doesn't say anything. instead, his hand finds yours and he brings the back of your hand towards his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"thank you for worrying about me, but you can stop now."

"are you hearing me, satoru?" your fingers grasp his tighter, a silent demand for his full attention. he gives it to you. "i'm asking you to please come home tomorrow night."

"i will, baby." he plants a quick kiss on your nose. "i'm the strongest, or have you forgotten?"

you clench your jaw slightly, wondering if you believe him or not.

you decide you don't. not enough.

but you're not going to ask him to promise you anything either. not when he already carries so much burden alone. not when you know how easily promises get broken as of late.

"i just—." you pause to look at him, really look at him. and you pray to god that you remember each and every delicate feature of his. every flaw, every dip, every scar. "i just want you to remember that i love you, always. and i won't make you promise it, but i hope with every piece of my soul that i see you tomorrow. and the day after. and the day after that, too."

satoru huffs out a short laugh, lips pulling apart to form a smile.

"you underestimate me, again." he plants another kiss, to your forehead, now.

"i'm not," you murmur.

"yeah, you are." he raises both your hands, fingers intertwining in the air. "you're underestimating my abilities, you're underestimating how much i love you, and most of all, you're underestimating the lengths i'd go to just to come back home to you."

it's not often that the satoru gojo shows raw emotion, but... here he right now doing so. he's offering you his still beating heart in his hands—and you take it. you swear you'll keep it safe with you forever.

"just—when you're out there, remember i love you, more than anything."

you're holding satoru's gaze intently, before his' drop to your lips, then back up again.

"and i love you even more than that, my girl." satoru presses one last kiss, to your lips this time. “i’ll make it home to you, i swear it.”

743 notes · View notes

gor3-hound · 10 months ago

Text

slice of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, religious themes, p in v, soft, fluffy sex and a little crying

a/n: i was gonna wait to post, but thought i’d drop this fic before uni starts up again so you guys could have a little something before my posting becomes more infrequent! hope you like it :)

word count: 1.1k words

“Are you sure you want this?” The words are whispered breathlessly against the skin of your neck, Leon's lips brushing you lightly, his grip strong on your waist. What he means to say is, are you sure you want me? But the words get caught in his throat. He can't ruin this moment. He doesn't want to scare you off. You nod softly, lips parted as your soft breaths fall from between them.

”Yeah… please.” You murmur, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access. A shudder of heat runs through Leon, his fingers tightening around you. He sucks marks into your skin, claiming you. A way to tell himself you’re really his. You’re not going to slip from his grasp and become lost. You won’t be another name on the list of the people that have left him. He wouldn’t survive it.

I’m not good enough for you. I’m a broken man. We can’t be together.

He forces that part of himself under wraps, ignoring the feelings you inspire within him. As gentle as possible, Leon lets his fingers drift away. I’ll hurt you. I’ll tear your life apart. I’m not capable of love.

He can’t keep his hands off of you for long. He’s never been able to. His palms slide up your arms as gently as he can manage before he cups your cheeks tenderly, tilting your face up to meet his. He holds you carefully, like you’ll break if his grip tightens even slightly. His eyes duck down to your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as he bends his head down slightly to meet your lips. You taste like everything he’s ever wanted. Like Heaven just opened its gates and bestowed its blessing upon him.

For the first time in his life, he can feel his heart pounding, his hands trembling, in a good way. You feel like everything he’s ever wanted. You’re so sweet, so… perfect. The only time his brain doesn’t try to eat him alive is when he’s with you. You make him forget. Nothing he’d ever do would be able to thank you enough for the brief reprieve you give him from his thoughts. Sometimes, he hopes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, put him six feet under where he belongs.

Maybe he belonged with you. Like this.

He pulls away hesitantly, afraid this is all a trick, that once more, his happiness had been snatched out from under him. But your lips curve into a smile, and your hand rests on his jaw. That tells him that this is real.

You are real.

”I love you.” He croaks out, his breathing shallow. He’s tearing up. God, is this what he’s come to? He’s already so pathetic that a simple kiss is enough to send him reeling. His thumb brushes the corner of your lip, the curve of it. All he wants is to make you happy, even if it means he’ll have to let you go. His innocence died years ago, ripped cruelly from his grasp before he had an opportunity to even appreciate it. You still have it - that light in your eyes. A sense of hope in this world.

He hopes that if he sticks close enough to you some of that will rub off on him. Make him whole again. He’d worship you gladly, spend hours on his knees buried between your thighs. He’s not good with words, but he’ll show you how much he loves you. How much he craves your presence.

“I love you, too.” God, your voice. It makes his knees weak. Those words alone feel like enough for him, like all his sins would have been forgiven. He didn’t deserve you, but you were here. With him. Maybe God was rewarding him for his years of suffering, the nightmares that still haunt him at night. His own tiny piece of Heaven, wrapped up in a pretty bow and presented right for him in his arms.

His lips meet yours again, more desperately this time. You kiss him back just as passionately, his tongue probing at your bottom lip before sliding into your mouth. His hands grip at your shirt, slowly tugging it off. It’s not long before the two of you are in a tangle of limbs, greedily tugging at each other’s clothes as you collapse onto the bed.

”Leon, please. Need you.” You pant, the sound of his name on your tongue is both torture and mercy all at once. Call out his name, and he’ll be baptised. Born anew, washed free of his sins. Never in his life has he found a more beautiful sound than how your lips say his name. If he could, he’d have it on a constant loop in his head. It drives him insane, festering in the depths of his mind. You’d cared your name into his heart, made a home for yourself in his head. He’d never be free of you, and he’s not sure he wants to be.

”I got you, honey.” He manages after a moment of just staring at you. He lines himself up carefully with your drippy hole, pushing himself inch by inch inside of you. He moves so slowly, his hands caressing your side as he continues to push until he’s buried fully inside your heat.

“Fuck, baby. So good.” He says quietly, his voice cracking. He grinds his hips against your momentarily, shuddering as he hears you moan. He pulls out and thrusts back in, a small sob leaving him. You’re so quick to comfort him, your hands on his cheeks, rubbing at his cheeks.

”God, ‘m so sorry. Just needed this, sweet girl. Needed to feel close to you.” He pants out, shaking slightly as he thrusts sloppily into your wet cunt. His hand slips down your stomach slowly, his palm resting below your belly button. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles into it.

”That good for you, baby?” He asks gently, his eyes finding yours as he increases the pace of his thrusts slightly. He’s not gonna last long this time. Not when he’s been away from his precious girl for so long. He smiles a little when you nod, increasing the pressure before angling his hips to hit your sweet spot with every thrust.

He relishes in the sounds of your moans, how sweet it sounds as you babble his name over and over again. He lets out a slight whimper at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock as you cum, your back arching as you gush all over him. He thrusts shallowly a few more times before he’s pulling out, cumming all over the inside of your thighs. He leans over to grab his shirt, wiping you off gently before chucking it to the side. He pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead and caressing your back gently.

When he dies, he doesn’t think he’ll go to Heaven. But that’s alright, ‘cause he’s found his own slice of it right here on earth.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #resident evil smut

368 notes · View notes

oncewhenalongtimeago · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! Can I ask a jealous Hiccup bc f!reader spends time with the rest of the team (especially Snotlout)?

Plus, if you like, he does his best to get her attention and you end up confessed to her (a little bit of angst would be nice) <3

Thanks! I love very much how you write, I hope you have a nice day~

The Jealous One

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,170

An old friend starts to act odd. Snotlout is slightly less so.

Tags: fem!reader, jealousy, beginning of Snotlout friendship, ambiguous Post-first movie pre-httyd 2 timeline, part one

Next>

Your footsteps rung hollowly, the sound of thick leather rubbing against stone nearly drowned out by the distant sound of bustle and the ominous creaking of the Great Hall’s large doors.

Similarly, you remembered the way the wood sounded against your hard soles, the sound of the gently rushing water and mindless, careless chatter- how your heart felt as you very certainly ignored the small form of Hiccup and his Night Fury fading off into the skyline.

There was no one capable of avoiding your sour eyes as you meandered, feeling sort of potently, upsettingly upset in a way that you thought shouldn’t have been natural. It was so intense that you had no grasp on any part of the world, empty hands grasping at loose threads, slipping past all but the one that decided that, in this moment, you should struggle heavily against the full weight of years and more than a handful of nasty, lonely tears, all of which eager to burst past the safety of your eyelids.

You surely didn’t miss his griping, or his judgment, or any of his whining. You didn’t miss the feasts, the dark nights, the hiding away, the moping and you certainly didn’t- You didn’t miss- You grit your jaw holding steadfast in the same way a jailer did before a break, a warrior before he swung his sword, wishing dearly that you’d anyone else- any other friend.

You wished you had some larger rocks to kick, too.

“Forgot my fucking coin pur-“ Your shoulders jerked as you startled, chests meeting with a force that was dull but no less breath-taking, not not nearly as startling as the feeling of stone cracking against the hard bone beneath your skin, the slamming of teeth against each other, deeper than you could have every though they could go, grit as they were, and the way the earth seemed to dissipate around you, making way for air and vertigo as you nearly slipped backwards down the stairs of the Great Hall.

“Gods,” You hissed, thick bits of gravel digging into the sensitive skin of your palms, stinging as you lifted them. You pushed yourself upwards, running your hands down the backside of your skirts, urging away dust and grime.

You squinted. So we meet again.

“Watch it,” Snotlout ground out, looking quite annoyed with his arms crossed, standing as if he was a taller man than he was a step or so above you.

You glared at him… then you smirked. The first thing you noticed- Hookfang was missing. Absent.

It was surprising but not shocking. The Riders and their dragons had separate lives, of course, the Jorgenson Rider and his steed more so than the rest. Even as, in the minds of most, they remained so closely associated.

Hookfang was quite the socialite, or at least a watcher. The Nightmare was also just as revolted with his Rider as he was foul when it came to others speaking ill in his presence, which usually made back-talk quite difficult.

“What are you doing here?” You shot at him. It was a stupid question, a simple one. It didn’t matter what was siad, though, not really- it was more about the fight laying underneath, or the lack of, or the mix of both.

You’d been seeing him much too often nowadays, though truthfully, now more than ever, his face hadn’t been one you hated. It was as pleasant to look at as he was a wordsmith, which was to say that it wasn’t pleasant-looking at all. Still, it was a balm to your aching guts. And so, in place of genuine conversation, if his jeering was all you had to work with, you found you didn’t much mind it.

You’d never show it, though.

You took a determined step forwards, glaring straight into his eyes as other Vikings came and went, brown-furred and tan-tunic-ed shoulders knocking into yours and passing through the open doors of the Great Hall like schools of fish.

Snotlout huffed, furrowing one large brow, open-mouthed frown exposing one large, missing tooth, “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

You adjusted your shoulders, stepping up with your other foot and crossing your arms, nearly meeting him chest-to-chest.

“None of your business,” You grumbled, feeling petty. “ Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I’m here for the grub,” Snotlout scoffed down at you, “That’s where I have to be. Not my fault you’re too busy skulking to watch where you’re going.”

“I don’t skulk?” You asked incredulously.

“Not in a million years, and unless you’re offering to pay, then I got no time for you, small fry.” He grunted.

You hid your wince. That was a nickname born only after Snotlout had trained his dragon and the Riders had fought larger battles. You resented it, sometimes, just as much as you embraced it. It was a token of something else, a name perhaps mostly meant to show you how little you meant in the grand scheme of things.

“Like you’re much of a catch, either,” You shot back gleefully, roughly huffing away your discontent. It was easy to smother as you rolled your eyes and grinned for the first time in what felt like a long while, forcing the ends of your mouth tightly upwards.

Snotlout scoffed at you condescendingly, looking up at you with his arms crossed and stance stout, cocky as ever.

“I don’t have a dragon,” You grumbled under your breath, feeling scales catch against the rough padding of your fingertips, struggling to keep a hold as tough muscle writhed like silk between your fingertips.

You tossed down the Terror perhaps a bit too roughly, wincing as it caught on to your sleeves with dull claws, spine twisting as it made a valiant effort to land on its feet. It was by some miracle that it landed anywhere else, meeting flesh instead of dirt or hand, quickly grabbing hold of Snotlout’s face.

You hid your grin behind a pitiful wince, watching an already grumpy, irksome viking become frantic below. The Terror screeched as Snotlout hurried to try and push it off, shouting and irritated, both of them flailing around, fingers scrabbling at claws which dug into his jaws and cheek in turn.

His pain brought you joy.

It was a malicious joy, one born partly from the feeling of victory, something small and petty left over from an old, fading rivalry, the other majority born from the fact that you'd been dragged along on a chore that had never been yours to begin with and it was his fault.

Your thighs relaxed slightly as you shifted, straddling a thick bark body and wooden spine. You sat up high in the trees, leaning against an old, heavy trunk, feeling the points of any branches and the folds of leaves pressing against you through your clothes, feeling quite loathed to make things easy for him.

It was by the hand of a tall, burlish woman that you’d been rushed into your quest, lips nagging with such an intensity you’d been startled into silence, pushing as if the crying mouth of her child had been a timer by which she had been bound and had then bound the two of you.

She had been quite standoffish and brash, preoccupied and frazzled, yet sharp- one of the more warrior types, covered in armor with large spiked helmets. The kind who, when they eventually had children with the least suited fathers, looked awfully out of place, busy and regretful.

You were sure, in a few years, her kids would be quite the hellions. You almost felt a little bad for them, between your efforts to wipe their spittle from your face and back far enough away with enough time to spare to keep your hearing intact.

So, you almost hadn’t held it against her.

Of course, you were about the right age to be a Rider, the only demographic who was, in name, saddled with a duty to manage the dragons, to change the minds of many in favor of the good of all. However, you weren’t one, though you doubted she cared much at all what creed you belonged to as long as someone got her job done and it didn’t have to be her.

You found conflict in the sentiment the same way you found conflict in the fact that you’d been robbed of any of the benefits of any title that came from living on Berk- you failed to understand why their hardships fell to you as well.

In regards to Snotlout, this was the one instance in which he’d offered no rebuke.

So, instead of leaving, which you supposed would have been a very viable course of action, and not at all because you had nothing better to do, you settled for trouble.

You smiled as the Terror left a particularly hard bite on Snotlout’s nose.

“You know what you need?” Snotlout complained, roughly tugging a branch from his shoe, hopping on one foot as he kicked aside a particularly feisty yellow-and-purple Terror.

“What?” You hissed, glaring at him stubbornly. Privately, for all the trouble it had wrought, you thought it served the little pest right.

“You need a dragon.”

You snorted, looking down at your hands. You wondered when you’d stop being dragged along on chores with Snotlout. It was becoming a pattern. “A dragon?”

You glanced upwards. You had an idea of the load- of the tasks, the jobs, the chores, but good Gods. It was nearly getting to be too much.

“It would make things a lot more convenient. For me.”

“If you can get me one,” You rolled your eyes and your neck, shoulders cracking as you picked a long stick-with-leaves out of your hair. “I would be happy to have it. But I’ve not had very good luck yet.”

“Then-” Snotlout seemed to pause, but only momentarily before yelling again as the Terror launched itself at him again.

You shook your shoulders loose then winced, stepping forwards again, a pain both dull and blooming bursting through the sole of your foot.

You lifted it up, hopping and pulling up your sole to see a hefty thorn stuck right in the middle, squinting, using dull nails to pick fruitlessly at it, efforts half hindered by the setting sun and dimming light.

“Meet me back here tomorrow. If I’m going to be stuck with you, then-” Snotlout lifted a finger into the air, quite clearly still off-put by the terror’s attack, something odd and purplish bleeding where it had split skin.

He inhaled deeply before stumbling off the path.

You waited for a moment, watching, before shrugging gaily and deciding that it was probably fine. The paths here weren’t that steep, you knew.

“Sure,” You said simply, continuing on your way walking down the path. You decided that whichever foul soul thought Terrors would be a great starting dragon for the children deserved to be hung.

You promised yourself you would give Hiccup a piece of your mind later.

“-Right, yeah, uh, so, I- well,” Hiccup said, shifting from one leg to the next, before stilling completely.

It looked like you’d caught him fresh from flight-and-crash as the browns of his leather were more mud than hide. His hair was a mess, more of an ugly bed-head than wispy and windswept, though you found it endearing all the same.

“Hey,” You scuffed your feet awkwardly into the dirt. You had dressed lighter for the occasion, something less green and blue- you glanced down before staring straight ahead, meeting Hiccup’s eyes head-on.

There was an odd, reddened, blotchy quality to his face in a way he hadn’t had since he’d just started riding Toothless, before soft, land-bound skin had gotten used to the winds whipping past his cheeks.

You were careful not to stare too long lest you somehow accidentally revealed your affections, thin as a spider’s web though just as elegantly woven, spreading wide and reaching many parts of you you’d rather keep hidden. In many instances, you found it entwined with a braid of bitter something, knotting and pulling, weighted. In the moment, you were most focused on keeping your basket, and therefore its contents, out of view and out of discussion.

Your nose twitched.

Dragon-training, to you, at least, felt as if it was a personal affair. In that sense, to involve hiccup, someone who was, at this point, an outside part, felt most definitely like interloping, and so, in that sense, he was most definitely not welcome.

Though you doubted he would, if he asked, you would loathe having to explain, or having to come up with an explanation for, well, anything. It felt sort of wrong to share something your heart urged you to hold so preciously, Snotlout aside, and so, in that sense, like most of your precious things, it was of the utmost importance that you keep it hidden.

From Hiccup to dragons, precious thing to precious thing, an affection prone to hurt and a bond intended to be, new and violate- perhaps it was exactly Snotlout’s apathy that made him easier to deal with, the certainly that each of his words would be just as biting, an equal amount sharp, all just as meaningless. The lack of hope a balm, each word more flat ground than a toe teetering on the edge of a string, wobbling and ready to fall either which way.

“Let me just-” You shifted to the side. The two of you were standing face-to-face in the open door to the newly minted dragon stables.

There was plenty of space for you to move, though you did so more to graciously cut through the awkward atmosphere, to split the spell that had broken between the two of you as of late, though you were hard-pressed to understand why.

You met each other step-for-step as you attempted to pass, and through that there was born a sparking frustration in your lower stomach.

You weren’t sure where the feeling had come from, or maybe you were, but in that moment, you felt foully towards him. You cursed him, who had shown his face just as you had begun to muster up some excitement for something new, with the audacity to look so dazed and joyful after having the gall to leave you feeling so alone for such a long time over and over.

His fruitless search for things nearby would lead him to leaving, you were sure- leaving permanently without so much as a care or a goodbye, leaving you destitute, with nothing better to do than butt heads with petty cousins… if he didn’t take the cousin with him, that was.

“You should stop giving the children Terrors.” You wanted to say something worse, feeling sort of haughty, mouth twitching as you made a considerable effort to smother all the bitter feelings broiling in your gut.

“Uhm,” Hiccup nodded, twitching to life suddenly, as if he’d just come back into himself, “Right?”

You crouched behind a sizable rock, one hand clutching tightly at a sharp, pointed ledge, nose wrinkling at the sour smell of fish which had followed you even long after you’d discarded your hefty basket.

You were on the far side of the island where most of the dragons here lounged, unclaimed.

Dirt and sharp pebbles ground into your palm as you peered over the top, rocky ledge giving way to reveal a vibrant, blue-looking Thunderdrum. It was standing in a way that was quite posed, on all fours stout as it nosed around in a small clearing, strong breaths pushing against a healthy dusting of grass with each exhale.

Despite its oddness, it was quite frightening. The dragon was sort of small in the back, but its jaw was large enough to make up for it, and it had a large, beefy set of arms for a Thunderdrum, which made you a little nervous.

Its mouth opened oddly to grasp the small strands of grass and leaves, its neck clearly not built for that kind of consumption. It ended up tearing up dirt whenever it pulled too hard or bit too deep, and whatever it could get ahold of was only roughly nibbled before being quite accidentally dropped.

Thunderdrums didn’t come into the forest that often, so this was your lucky break.

Maybe it will work this time?

“Are you sure this isn’t going to be too much for us to handle?” You shifted, scales shifting against your own hand, which was feeling both quite damp and warm, slime dripping from the ends of your fingers onto the dry crushes of grass by your feet.

You hoped you’d be able to please at least something with your meager offering before it gave your fingers wrinkled, though you were afraid you were much too late.

Most of your morning was spent speaking away from Hookfang, who gorged himself quite readily on your catch, watching cautiously all the while as if he knew the two of you were about to do something stupid, yet too bored to do much to stop it. The rest of it was spent putting your ancestors to shame, failing at a great number of things- finding a dragon most particularly.

“Like I said. I’m not gonna help you tame some lame dragon,” Snotlout scoffed, “I don’t do small fry, small fry. So are you going to get it or what?”

“Alright, Chief, keep your trousers laced,” It took you a considerable effort not to make an ass of yourself as you spoke, scowling.

You furrowed your brows with determination, setting your jaw assuredly, shifting on your feet behind the rock. Snotlout peered over the top too, horns sticking out obviously over the edge of it.

“So I just, what- give it the fish?” You asked, half in a whisper, “Should I, like, toss it, or hand it over, or…?”

“How should I know?” Snotlout asked exasperatedly, at a pitch that was perhaps just a bit too loud, “Do I look like the ‘Dragon Master’ to you?”

He asked that last bit mockingly, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly, using his fingers to make air quotes.

“Are you serious?” You asked, gritting your teeth. “But you have a dragon.”

“Well,” Snotlout shot back. The two of you turned to gripe at each other, barely noticing as you were overshadowed, though not caring very much as to what was doing it, “That’s wimp stuff. Hiccup did all the taming.”

You opened your mouth wide, tongue lit with a scathing rebuke. Before you could respond, a loud, malicious, echoey rumbling seemed to fill the air around the two of you.

Slowly, you looked up, shivers, dread and the phantom of a cold sweat gathering around your temples and your spine. You heard the shifting of fur against helmet that dictated that Snotlout was doing the same.

“Oh, Thor.” You managed to squeak, staring up at a long row of sharp teeth and a wide, angry blue face.

#thanks #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #toothless #fem reader #female reader

285 notes · View notes

redhead-batgal · 2 years ago

Note

Damian x y/n: y/n fell asleep at the manor while hanging out with Damian and woke around 2am, y/n gets lost on way to kitchen and meets Jason and says " hello dummy thiccc man"

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Best Friend! and Gender Neutral! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin

Content: Technical one-sided pinning, simp! reader, aged up Damian and reader, cursing, humor, lots and lots of fluff.

Word Count: 1,305

(P.S. I made it best friend! reader because I LOOVVVVE Best Friends to lovers. It's like my favorite troupe. I also changed it a bit, but I think it'll be fine. Enjoy! :)

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

Human nature and emotions were so strange. Peculiar, how extreme they could be. It was like magic, how strange people could be or act in general. How rage could transform a person momentarily, how joy could bring people out of the darkness. Love though, Love was stronger than any other emotion. It was stronger and more powerful. A black magic of sorts that would take over and change you into someone completely different.

And you had just been hit by its spell.

Part of you didn't entirely understand why you caved to his every whim. Why the tiniest frown and gleaming of eyes could make your stomach swirl and instantly feel guilty.

The rest of you... it-it knew. Knew that you were wrapped so tightly around his finger you might shatter if you did something wrong. Knew how the smallest glimpse of his smile would send your heart racing and make you weak in the knees.

Damian Wayne had a magic of some kind, and you were completely and totally enchanted. So enchanted you sometimes forget the way the world actually works and that you should think before you speak. Unfortunately, tonight just so happened to be a night that his magic overcame you.

Drearily blinking, you found yourself curled into Damian's side. His breathing was slow and steady, calming, even. For a moment you almost drifted back into that peaceful bliss of sleep.

However, your mind jumped. Making you realize how close you were to him and that- that... you probably shouldn't be. No- no you definitely shouldn't be.

Here and now, he was vulnerable, and he hated being vulnerable in front of people. You couldn't stay, if you did, he'd be upset and- and... and you really really hate it when he's upset with you.

Slowly slipping from his grasp, you dropped towards the floor, hoping that you won't startle him awake. Sneaking towards the door you take a moment to look over your shoulder, he took a breath in before letting it out softly. Closing your eyes for a moment you let out a small sigh of relief.

He was still asleep, thank goodness. Part of you didn't want to leave, seeing him so peaceful and happy made something warm bubble in you. However, you knew you had to go, for him and for you. After all you have been here for a while... Wait, how long have you been here?

Sliding out the door you peered around the corner, hoping to see someone wandering around who you could ask. Instead, you are met by pitch darkness and an eerie quiet that shook you to your core.

Oh god, what time was it?

Half scrambling down the stairs you bit your lip. Please oh please don't be morning yet. Your mother would kill you if you stayed out all night.

Clock, clock... where oh where is a clock? Where was the closest one??? Living room? No Steph and Duke broke that one yesterday with their Wii sports tournament. Anywhere else made your mind spin and then- then a thought rose up suddenly.

The kitchen.

Yes, yes, the kitchen should have a clock... and a phone.

The more you moved through the darkness the later you thought it was. Was it four? five? Oh god, please let it be the same day. Blinking, a bit, you noted light seeping under the door rather absentmindedly.

Your hand pushed the door open, and you found the blinking numbers on the microwave. They sent a tumble of nerves straight to your stomach.

Two am. It was two fucking am.

How in hell were you going to survive this? It was a twenty-minute drive home and at minimum, a two-hour walk. There was no way you'd make it home before the sun came up.

A clatter dragged you from your thoughts and you looked up to see a man sitting at the table. He had short dark hair with a white streak through a front section. His eyes were greenish, not as green as Damian's but something about them seemed similar.

It took you no more than a second to notice he was not wearing a shirt. And your brain froze, your thoughts suddenly deciding to spill out.

"Hello dummy thicc man."

Silence followed and a snort of sorts. You blinked seeing a smile stretched across the man's face. Heat flushed through you, and you closed your eyes.

"Dammit. I said that aloud, didn't I?"

The man nodded, leaning forward ever so slightly. He winced instantly and you then spotted the bloodied spot on his torso.

"Holy shit, you're bleeding!"

A weak smile was now on the man's face, and he nodded. Your eyes went wide and your hands darted forwards.

"Are you going to be, okay?"

"Yeah, Alfie's takin care of me.'' He looked you over and snorted once again, "you're the gremlin's?"

Your brow furrowed and you tilted your head before blinking a few times.

“Uh, if you mean Damian, yeah I’m his friend.”

A smirk of sorts worked its way onto his face, and you began fiddling with your fingers.

"I'm y/n." You weakly say.

"Jason... though you probably know me as Todd."

You clamped your mouth shut as a wave of laughter built up in you. Somehow, he had managed to almost mimic Damian perfectly. Looking away from him you squeezed your eyes shut as a giggle of sorts escaped you.

Finally, you looked back to Jason- no Todd... oh yeah. You had heard about him. Nothing really bad though. Strange, though him never being around probably contributed to that.

"The gremlin does have a type. Waffles was right."

You tilted your head again, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly. Waffles? Who could be waffles? you opened your mouth to question the nickname when a door swung open. You froze, only to see Alfred carrying a tray filled with bandages and antiseptics.

"Uh, hi."

Alfred smiled at you before setting the tray on the table. Jason instantly began reaching for things only for Alfred to whack his hand without looking away from you.

"I'm glad to see you, Mx Y/n. Did you sleep well?"

You nodded and heard the door behind you open. You then noticed a strange smile slide onto Alfred's face and Jason snorted again shaking his head.

"Hello Master Damian."

Looking over your shoulder in a little bit of horror, you found Damian behind you rubbing his eyes, his hair disheveled and pointing in many directions.

"Pennyworth," He yawned, "Todd."

Jason grunts in greeting and you stand frozen staring at Damian, your mind racing. Were you too loud? Did you wake him up? Was he upset?

"Y/n," Damian then said, holding out his hand, "come on."

"Huh?"

"We should go back to bed. School starts early tomorrow. Father would be very upset if he knew I was awake."

"Uh, but- I- why are you awake?"

"You left." He said with a slight, "duh." At the end.

You went very still as his words began to run rampant in your head. Did that mean you woke him up when you left? Were you too loud slipping out the door? Did you hop off the bed too sharply?

A hand took yours and you blinked, finding Damian before you. He pulled at your hand slightly. "Come on."

"But- it- it's two. My mom- she's-"

"We informed your mother that you would be staying the night. You do not need to worry Mx. Y/n." Alfred suddenly chimed in.

Looking back towards him you raised an eyebrow; he was nonchalantly wrapping a bandage around Jason's torso. Tilting to the side you notice ripped abs. You only managed a quick glance before Damian pulled you from the room.

"It's time to sleep Y/n."

Turning back towards Damian you smiled before following after him.

"Coming."

Taglist:

@andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @krswrites @thefallingstarlights @masset-fotia @yorsgf @ssak-i

#y/n x damian wayne #damian wayne x y/n #reader x damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #reader #y/n #batboys #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #Alfred Pennyworth #fluff #requested #one-shot #best friend! reader #gender neutral! reader #batkids #batfam #batboys x y/n #cute

557 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Note

What is reader was pregnant at the end of summer nights? Love your writer. I wake up and check your blog every day for new chapters 🩵🩵🩵

Consequence

Warnings: unwanted pregnancy, threats, intimidation, allusions to rape, unedited.

Please provide thoughts and feedback! I had fun doing this and hope to do some more in response to your guys’ asks! Thank you for all your support. 💜

Your shift at the hardware store couldn’t end soon enough. You hike your purse onto your shoulder as you walk out the automatic doors, your stomach rotting and knotted. You’ve felt sick all morning. Your coffee burned like acid going down and you only finished half the stale bagel you found in your mother’s kitchen.

Sleep’s been just as difficult. You can’t seem to get comfortable. Your anxiety keeps you up and a sense of restlessness underlined with dread. The thoughts you keep running from will catch up with you one day.

You pass the pharmacy, glancing through the window at the big poster advertising compression socks. You stop at the other end of the facade and hesitate. You sidle back and stare at another display, pink and white and worrying.

You laugh at yourself. No. You’re just paranoid.

Still, you make yourself go inside. You wander the aisles until you find what you’re looking for. You look up and down the row self-consciously then bag to the shelf. Does it matter which one you get? This one says early detection. And it’s fucking expensive. Does it really have to cost so much to be sure?

Fuck it. For your peace of mind. You may actually get a full night’s sleep if you put this behind you once and for all.

You go to the counter and refuse to look directly at the cashier. You pay, more than you want to, you leave with the test in a paper bag. As you walk down the street, a car door opens behind you. The driver feeds the meter as you distract yourself with the shop windows.

Before you can turn down the path, you hear your name and hand tugs you back. You spin in horror at the voice you never wanted to hear again. You try to wrench away from Andy as he looks at you, a furrow between his brows as he clings to you in desperation.

“Hey,” he says, “can we talk?”

“Get off– what are you– how–” you sputter in confusion.

He lets you go and raises his hand defensively.

“I don’t like how things ended–”

“Don’t like– I didn’t like any of it. Get away from me.”

He flinches and exhales heavily, “you’ve been ignoring my calls. Just hear me out–”

“No,” you spin and stomp away, “there’s nothing to hear.”

He follows you and you speed up, trying to evade him as you hurry down the path. He snags your wrist and the force of it causes the bag to slip from your grasp. It hits the pavement and the contents spill out, the box rolling out from under the receipt.

Andy’s hand stays firm on your arm as you both look down. You feel his grip slacken and you rip away from him. You quickly bend to scramble up your stuff. As you stand he lets out a shudder.

“You’re pregnant?” He asks.

You cringe and swallow, “I don’t know.”

“Oh,” he seems startled, “well… if you are–”

“If I am,” you insist, “it’s none of your business.”

“It is exactly my business,” he retorts.

“Fuck off,” you snarl. “Go home. You already have a child, you don’t need another.”

You evade him as he reaches for you once again. He doesn’t persist as a family comes down the other side of the path with a stroller. Fuck, what a wonderful foreboding coincidence. You pump your arms and furiously march away.

Of all days for him to show up…

How long has he been planning this? Has he been watching you? Those questions rattle in your mind but are quickly muted by the biggest one of all. The one in your hand. Did you really fuck up that bad?

💜

You stare at the two lines. Your heart drops. No. No. God! He already fucked you up so bad, why this? Why? Fuck!

You shove the test off the counter and into the bin. You pace back and forth in a panic, head swelling as the world pulses around you. You can’t do this. You already have your mind made up. You can’t keep it. You refuse to. You don’t want any part of him around you.

“Hey, where are ya?” Your mother hollers up the stairs.

“Mom, I’m busy,” you shout back.

“Not too busy to get your ass down here. Now!”

Shit. You know that tone. You fucked up something. You roll your eyes and rip open the bathroom door. You barrel downstairs and stop as your mother stands smoking by the front door. A large figure fills the frame. Does he not give up?

“I always knew you were up to no good,” your mother accuses.

“What?” You snip, “mom, tell him to go away–”

“No wonder you’ve been shorting me on rent,” she spits back, “you ain’t showing up for work.”

“What are you talking about? You just ask Bert–” You snarl and swallow your anger, directing it instead at your unwelcome visitor, “Andy, go away.”

“Don’t you talk to him like that. You’re not quittin’ this one, honey,” your mother taps ash onto the carpet, “the man’s being nice so you go out and figure this all out. You’re not living in my house if you’re not working–”

“Mom, he’s not–”

“Deal with it,” she crushes the cigarette in the overflowing tray beside the door and stomps off.

You shake your head, “Andy, just go.”

“Please, come outside.”

“No.”

“Do you really want to have this conversation in here?” He challenges.

You roll your eyes and wave him out. He retreats and you follow him, quickly pulling the door shut. You’re already pissed at him.

“What the hell? You told my mom you’re what? My boss? I already have to deal with enough–”

“Well, what could I say? I figured the truth wouldn’t exactly be great.”

“Which truth? The one where you raped me–”

“Sweetie, no, I didn’t–”

“Enough. I’m not telling you again. Go away and leave me alone. I never wanted this. I never wanted you or a baby or–”

“Baby? You took the test?” He asks wispily.

You close your eyes and drop your head back. You hate him. You hate this. You hate everything about your life.

“I’m not keeping it, alright?”

“You’re not– that’s not your choice–”

“It is. You don’t get to take this one from me.”

“It’s mine. My child.”

“Oh, fuck off, look at Jacob. You really another one?”

“Yeah, actually, I’d like to do it right. Sweetie, I can take care of you and the baby. I will. You can get away from here,” he glances over at the stained siding of your mother’s pigsty, “you don’t have to live like this.”

“And you think I want to live with you?” You bark.

“Do you have any other option? Really?”

“Yeah, I do. I’d rather rot in filth.”

His jaw grits and his veneer falls. He puts his hands on his hips.

“We’ll see about that,” he snarls. “I am the father, I get a say.”

“You’re a monster,” you sneer.

He glares at you. He lets out a breath and tilts his head until his neck cracks.

“Only if that’s what you make me be,” he flicks his fingers at you dismissively, “and you have no idea what sort of prick I can really be.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #what if #summer nights #defending jacob

215 notes · View notes

eddiesghxst · 1 year ago

Note

just got back from japan

i have been to 19 countries and every time, i smell the insanely heavy smell of cigarette smoke (i think i sent an ask abt the time i was in germany last summer) and i love it

and how i love how warm it gets

but this time its cold in tokyo

thinking about smoking on the sidewalk in a european (or any) country with my husband, steve his sunglasses are on and he has that stupid smug smile and black coffee + a croissant. thinking about european windows open while he’s fucking into u slowly so you get that hot breeze but also people def hear u. going to cozy ramen spots in japan with him, non touristy places and tiny cafes. he’s fingering u in the first class seats AND the bathroom yummy bc i hate airplane food so much. literally handing u his black card and muttering “go crazy” in ur neck and then literally telling u to buy expensive necklaces so he can grasp it in his hands as he fucks u that night. the word “no” is NEVER uttered on a trip with u lol

went to the amalfi coast two summers ago and even tho it’s not really safe to be in the water by yourself where i was at, and even tho i have a huge fear of open water, i know steve would hold you like a baby on his open cock as he fucks into you, securing your safety as u both jump into the blue sea.

anyway i love travel

“go crazy” yeah i fucking did, thanks bestie.

————

husband steve that just takes such good care of you, never wants his baby to stress a day in your married life, smiles bigger whenever he sees you happy.

sitting outside a cafe and happily sipping on your coffee and steve’s just watching you behind his dark sunglasses, closed lipped smile spreading across his lips because you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

nudging your foot against his shin to get his attention, smiling as you lean forward to push his glasses up into his hair because, “i wanna see your eyes, pretty.” you run your hands through his hair before he’s catching your wrist and pressing a kiss on the inside, another one to your palm before gently tugging until you get the memo, leaning forward with soft puckered lips to share a coffee soaked kiss. sharing small i love you’s and being absolutely disgustingly in love.

night comes and you and steve spend it at a fancy restaurant, creamy pastas and endless glasses of wine that leave you both giggly and handsy— so so so handsy. handsy enough to have steve fucking into you on the staircase of your rented villa, he just couldn’t wait and his roaming hands were making your head spin.

it’s a risky spot to be having a rather heated sexcapade, but does that really matter when steve’s cock is nudging up against your walls so well that your toes curl in your sandals, legs tightening around his body as you let a few moans slip? the rough edge of the stair is digging into your lower back but, god you don’t care because steve smells like the sea and that expensive cologne be always wears that sends you into a fucking spiral.

“god, baby you feel so fucking good. gonna fuck a baby into you, you want that?” he grunts over the sinful noises of your sex. you whimper, manicured nails digging into his shoulders as you nod, lips brushing against his with each movement. your words are chopped and breathy when you respond, “y-yeah. give it to me, please? please, please, please. i want it, steve. want that so bad.”

steve’s hair is hanging in loose ringlets, tickling the tops of your warm cheeks and nose with each thrust and it sends chills up your spine when he smashes his lips against yours, rambling about how he can’t wait to have you full of him, showing the world just how much you love each other.

and well, it’s safe to say your child was definitely conceived on that trip.

#I HOPE U HAD A GOOD TRIP JAPAN SOUNDS SO FUN !!!#IDK HOW THE BREEDING KINK CAME IN BUT HEY #I NEED HUSBAND STEVE AND I NEED HIM NOW.#I WILL BE THINKING ABT THIS FOR ETERNITY THANK U NONNIE #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington

141 notes · View notes

todosteakettle · 2 years ago

Text

Divine Misunderstanding.

Obey Me! Shall we date?

wc: 1970

a/n: this concept has been rotting my brain. I thoroughly believe that Mammon and Micheal are almost identical. also not beta or proof read 😭 dialogue in bold.

“I promise I’ll be fine Mammon.” you reassured your demon. “But what if somethin’ happens to ya’ up there? What’ll I do huh? I gotta come.” “You are not going.” Lucifer quickly rebuffed. “Mammon it’s the Celestial Realm, it’s not dangerous. Plus I will be there with Simeon and Luke! They won’t let anything happen to me.” “I know it’s just… ugh I don’t like ya leaving me!”

Truth be told you wished Mammon was going with you on this trip. As annoying as he is, you loved your greedy demon, and he made you feel safe. You felt silly for being more nervous about being in heaven than in hell. Maybe you were the only human on earth who felt this way.

You had been to the Celestial Realm once before, but this was different. This time you were going to meet Michael. You were the representative for the human realm. You were a diplomat speaking on behalf of your entire race about relations between the three worlds to the Prince of Heaven, no biggy! It’s not like Diavolo’s reputation was on the line or you could accidentally start Armageddon or anything… God you wished Mammon could come.

This was going to be easy, you told yourself. Just a chat with an Angel! You talk to Simeon all the time and he likes you. What do you talk about with Micheal though? It’s not like you're the most fond of him. He’s caused a lot of problems for your Demons. You really loved them and anyone who hurt them was not a friend of yours, but you would suck it up.

“So what’s Micheal like?” You asked the Demons sitting around the dinner table in an attempt to stop Mammon from begging more. Plus it doesn’t hurt to be extra prepared.

“Well he has a surprisingly timid personality wise. He loves humans tho so you’ve already got that going for you.”

“Ok that’s good to know. Anything else I should know?”

“He likes sweets?”

“I already knew that, I made him some, but thanks anyways. I am going to get some rest, I have to meet your “brother” tomorrow and I want to make a good impression.”

“He’s real handsome too.” Mammon said under his breath, not loud enough for you to hear already walking away.

Although Mammon was the most vocal, they were all uncomfortable with you meeting Micheal. What if you liked him more than them? I mean he is an angel after all.

You knew that no matter how incredible this guy was, he would never compare to your boys. But it didn’t stop them from worrying. In fact, that night you woke up with at least 5 demons who came to your room sometime while you were asleep, clinging to you for dear life. You didn’t mind the cuddles.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm which you quickly silenced. You slipped out of the grasp of a certain gluttonous demon and got ready, careful not to wake them. Once you were ready you texted Simeon to come meet you at HoL so you could go.

Simeon and Luke picked you up, happy to see you. You honestly looked less than happy to see them. You felt bad, you loved being around them, it was just going to the celestial realm you were dreading.

You walked your way to RAD while Luke talked your ear off about all the sweets he’s going to make for you and Micheal at “home”.

His adorable puppy-like positivity cheered you up, if even a little. He also complimented the pastries you were bringing. Once you entered the student council room at RAD Diavalo opened a portal to the Celestial Realm. You stepped through with Simeon and Luke as he and Barbatos wished you luck. You felt like you might need it.

Once you got there your worries faded pretty quickly. There is a sense of serenity there that is contagious. It’s heaven. You were greeted by guards who you assume were Micheals staff that escorted you to the castle. Giant castle doors and endless hallways astounded you. It was pretty here. Finally you arrived at a cute little garden with outdoor seating and tea. Once there, the guards explained Micheal apologizes for his tardiness but was in a meeting and would be out shortly to greet you.

Your nerves somewhat settling made you realize you had to pee. You asked one of the guards where the nearest bathroom was and he didn’t respond. Jackaas. Simeon then explained it was down the hall and to the right. Simeon and Luke let you walk there on your own, this was a safe place after all.

While you walked down the giant hallway you were greeted with a man who happened to be going the opposite direction. Wait.. Is that?

MAMMON??

You quickly grabbed him and pulled him into the closest room, the bathroom.

“Mammon what in the Devildom are you doing here?? Did Lucifer send you?”

The man went to open his mouth but you cut him off

“-Of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t risk Diavalo’s reputation or your safety. Ugh Mammon I told you that you couldn’t come! Why do you never listen.” You say, dramatically banging your head on his chest.

“God I really gotta get you out of here. I am just about to meet with Micheal. If he’s anything like the guards I’ve met so far he’s probably a real stick in the mud. Ok I’m gonna go meet with Micheal and you get out of here while he’s distracted. And you BETTER not steal anything! Seriously if you steal anything you’ll receive a punishment from me that will make even Lucifer tremble. Be careful though.” You said the last part a little more gently.

Surprisingly he smirked? Such a masochist

You cupped his cheek with a smirk on your face “By the way, this Angel costume really suits you. Even in white you’re devilishly handsome.” You said before kissing him

“I don’t know about the wig though.” You winked at him and left the bathroom, hurrying back to Simeon and Luke.

Something about that interaction just now was.. off? First of all he tasted off, sweeter maybe? Plus Mammon is a huge loudmouth and he was totally stunned into silence. It’s not like it’s the first time you two have kissed. In fact you have done a lot more…

Whatever he was probably just off because he was caught in the act. You walked back to Simeon and Luke and acted as if nothing had happened. You couldn’t tell them, even if they were willing to help it could get them in trouble.

Minutes passed while you three chatted, drank tea, and ate the little cookies that were laid out. Suddenly the sound of footsteps approaching tore you from your conversation. To your horror the person entering the room was Mammon! You told him to run, what’s he doing?

If you weren’t horrified before you, your soul just about left your body when the little blonde boy seated next to you got up and hugged him screaming “Micheal! Micheal, I missed you!”

Oh god(?) no.

You can’t think of a deity to pray to for mercy before the man approaches you timidly with his hand out, for you to shake…?

“I’m so sorry.” You say dropping to your knees.

You were sure that your shame and embarrassment was going to kill you right here right now. At Least you're in Heaven right! This is worse than anything you have ever experienced in the Devildom.

Ten minutes ago you were worried about whether you should greet him with “Hi!” or “Hello!” and you now realize you greeted him with your tongue down his throat.

Simeon and Luke share a confused look while Micheal blushes more furiously than he was before. You look up at him but he avoids your gaze.

He really is like Mammon.

You had practically assaulted the guy and here he was trying to be nice. (I mean is it that surprising though? He’s an angel.) You're probably just embarrassing him further.

You stood up, dusted off your knees, and looked him in the eyes. You mustered up everything you had to speak clearly and shake his still hanging hand.

“Hello. I am MC, the diplomat representing the Human Realm. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Michael” is all he said in response.

Simeon was confused but understood more than Luke who was totally lost.

“Uhm.. are you gonna say anything else Micheal.” Luke said, trying to break this awkward silence.

“I have Macarons!” You said.

Micheal’s interested seemed to be peaked by that.

“Well then, let’s eat.” Micheal said, sitting opposite of you at the table.

You had honestly already eaten but you would happily stuff your face if it meant you didn’t have to speak right now. After the food was all gone Simeon (being the angel he is) offered to take the plates. Luke of course insisted on helping him.

Leaving you and Micheal…

“Those Macarons, did you make them?” Micheal asked

“Uhm yeah! Barbatos and Luke taught me but I put my own spin on them. They’re raspberry ganache.”

“They were divine, I must have the recipe.” He said with a small smile

“Yeah for sure, I’ll have Luke give it to you!”

…more silence

“So about earlier I wanted to say-“

“It’s ok. Really” He said, cutting you off this time.

“Mammon and I were often mistaken for each other when he was an angel, so I understand. Plus I really did not mind the uhm… kiss” He said, clearing his throat

“Oh!” You said, literally not knowing what else to say.

“I also do hope you enjoy your time here. I wouldn’t want to ruin your trip. I hope I’m not a um.. what was it you said? “Stick in the mud.”

You assaulted and insulted him. Nice going MC.

“Oh no you’re not! I’m not just saying that either. You’re really sweet, I was just really nervous about meeting you and the guard seemed like he didn’t like me so I was even more worried. I have been seriously stressed for days about meeting you. Believe it or not I actually practiced meeting you a bunch.”

He laughed

“Sorry I know that’s kind of weird.” You said thinking you may have overshared a bit.

“No no… It’s fine it’s just humorous that you thought I wouldn’t like you. You're quite the wildcard but I find you fascinating. I've never met a human quite like you.”

“Is that good?”

“Perhaps.” He said, smiling.

The rest of the day went swimmingly. The ice between you and Michael had been

thoroughly broken. You spent the rest of the day chatting with Simeon and Luke and Micheal and baking some treats.

Right before it was time to go Micheal pulled you aside for a moment.

“You are quite captivating, I hope you come and visit again soon. I am old so this may be surprising, but I admit that was my first kiss. I hope one day we can have a second.” He whispered into your ear.

You blushed furiously “Hope to see you again!”

It’s safe to say you made quite the impression. Still though, you would take your Demon over angel anyday.

Bonus:

MC enters HoL

“MAMMONNNN”

“Ya’ sound like Lucifer! What’s the problem?”

“You didn’t think that Micheal looking exactly like you with a ponytail may have been an important detail to mention?”

“Well I told you he was handsome” He smirked.

Enter the rest of the brothers.

“Oh MC how did it go!!” Asmo beamed

“Oh it went alright! I am officially the first ever being to have FRENCHED GOD.”

collective “WHAT?!?”

“I don’t have time to answer your questions I need to pee.”

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #om! mammon #obey me michael #obey me x reader #reader is gender neutral #reader insert

271 notes · View notes

queen-of-deans-booty · 2 months ago

Text

Paint It Black: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: A case takes you, Sam, and Dean right into a church where Dean confesses his fears about you. You're the love of his life and trapped inside his head while he waits for your soul to purify. He didn't think things could get worse but can they or did Dean find the one thing that can give him hope?

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

Dean steps into the confessional and knocks on the small window that separates his booth from Father Delaney's booth.

"Yes?"

"I'm here to clean house. I need to get some things off my chest."

"Alright. When you're ready."

"Where do I begin?" Dean scoffs.

"'Bless me, Father, for I have sinned', is usual."

"Right. That. Listen, I've been in love with the same woman since I was nineteen. I married her nearly three years ago and we have three children together. One is adopted, and I wasn't so keen on having him at first but now I love that kid. My wife used to be so caring and loving. She'd do anything to protect the ones she loves. Now... all I see is a monster. Everything she stands for is gone, and I don't know how to get her back. I thought she'd always be my best friend, someone I could always turn to.

"Lately, it seems like she keeps slipping from my grasp with each and every minute that goes by. She's not a good person anymore, Father. She constantly threatens to cheat on me, but I don't think she ever did it. I honestly don't know. She knows what to say to hurt me. She knows what to do to hurt me. She doesn't care.

"It's kind of my fault, really. I'm the one that let her... She did something for me so I wouldn't be alone and I shouldn't have let her take it. It turned her into this monster, and I don't know if I'll ever get her back. What if I said I... If I didn't want to die, that I wasn't ready?"

"Are you expecting to?"

"Always," Dean chuckles. "The life I live and the work I do.... I pretty much just figured that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around, jam the key in the ignition, and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I'd go out the same way that I live--pedal to the metal, and that would be it."

"But now?" Father Delaney asks and looks at Dean.

"Now, um, recent events, make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. I don't know. I mean there's things, there's people, and feelings that I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time."

"Is your wife holding you back from doing that?"

"Had you asked me last year, I would have said no. Now, I'm not so sure. I'm just starting to think that maybe there's more to it all than I thought."

"Learning there's more to the universe than your tiny world can be a frightening discovery. Do you truly believe in God, Agent? Because that can be a comfort."

"I believe there is a God, but I'm not sure he still believes in us. Thanks for listening."

Dean leaves the confessional and approaches Sam who stands. He's been waiting patiently in one of the pews.

"My turn," you smirk.

"You want to confess?"

"I've sinned a lot. I think it's time I get some of it off my chest, don't you?"

You go into the confessional booth before Sam and Dean can stop you. Father Delaney looks at you and nods once.

"Welcome, my dear. Whenever you're ready."

"Yeah, my husband just came out of this booth. I bet you heard some sob story that I really couldn't care less about, but I figure it's only right you hear my side of the story. I used to care about things, things that really don't matter now, things that are useless like husbands and children."

"If they are such a waste, then what's the point of even living?"

"Power. I have an immense amount of power, and I can do a lot with it. I see what it does to Sam and Dean when I use my power. I know it hurts them but it brings me so much joy to see them in pain. The chaos humans bring fuels the power inside of me. It's my job to feed it."

"You mean metaphorical power?"

"I mean magical power. I was cursed with this Mark from the devil but I've learned it's not a curse. It wants power so it gave me magic to fuel it. It wants me to cause pain and I am more than happy to do that. My husband and his brother don't want that to happen. They don't understand. I've been with these two my entire life, Father. If they felt what I felt, they'd want to feel like this all the time.

"Hurting people is what I do best, and all they want to do is save people. That just means I'm going to have to hurt just as many people as they save because at the end of the day, it's me or them, and I'm very good at choosing me."

You leave the confession booth without another word, and you walk over to Sam and Dean who have worried looks on their faces.

"What did you say to him?"

"The truth. Don't get all pouty on me. I gave that ghost something to freak out about."

You three hung out at the motel to pass the time until Dean got a call from the nun who he swore he wasn't hitting on. You head back to the church and meet her in the basement. Apparently, there is a female ghost that's been haunting the church.

"Sister Mathias, what is going on?" Sam asks.

"I never mentioned her to you because it didn't occur to me she was connected with the murders. Ever since I've been here I've come across restless spirits of all sorts. They're all kind of sad and harmless. Eventually, the poor things go to their final rest."

"Wait a second, you're comfortable around ghosts?"

"As a spiritual person, I've accepted many planes of existence. As I said, they've all been harmless. Isabella was my friend. We had a lot in common, including painful love lives. I wanted to protect her. She showed back up three weeks ago when stuff from her home arrived. It came from a monastery in Tivoli. Her family's treasures found their way to the church, as with many of the great houses of Europe."

"You get that she got here just before the murders started happening?"

"I finally realized that, and then I heard the three of you and it made me wonder. That's when I read her journal. It was given to her father right after her death."

Sister Mathias picks up Isabella's journal.

"Vengeful spirit, just like we thought," Dean mutters.

"Yeah, but from 16th-Century Florence. She's probably buried in Florence."

"I assume she is," Sister Mathias says. "The journal ended right after her trial." She hands the journal to Sam. "Piero's death was so horrific that she was convicted of witchcraft. They sentenced her to burn at the stake."

"I wonder if I'd be burned at the stake," you comment.

"If she was burned, her bones would have been, too."

"Something here is the tether that ties her to this place. It's probably the journal, where she wrote about her life." Sam turns to Sister Mathias. "Why don't we see if we can't find Isabella and try to slow her down? I'll burn all this stuff."

"Her journal, too? Is that necessary?"

"Yes, it. Sam, burn it. You two are with me."

You and Sister Mathias follow Dean out of the basement, leaving Sam alone to burn everything. Dean takes out his EMF reader and starts looking for Isabella while you absentmindedly pick at your fingernail.

"I don't see how she could murder these people if she was tethered to the church."

"She could possess a person inside the church, ride out, and get yanked back after the kill."

"Ghosts can be shot?"

Dean holds up his shotgun.

"This is rock salt. If we spot her, it'll slow her down."

"It'll piss her off more," you state. You walk into the main room of the church and see Father Delaney lying on the table, gutted. You smirk and walk past Dean over to Sister Mathias who has yet to see the body. "What a shame. Isabella got to Father Delaney."

"She's around here somewhere. We got to get you out of here. Come on!"

Before Dean can do anything, Sister Mathias smacks Dean in the face so hard that he goes flying across the hallway. You don't have time to bask in the joy of her kicking Dean's ass because she turns to you with the same deadly look. You grin and flash your eyes red to show her that you're not to be messed with.

"I don't think so, sister."

You blast her back with your magic but instead of a one-and-done hit, you keep your magic surrounding her and use it to pull Isabella out of Sister Mathias. With the spirit not possessing the young woman anymore, you blast her back so she's out of the way and turn to Isabella who looks more pissed than before. She runs at you with the intent to possess you but you grab her throat and slam her against the wall.

"You really aren't good at this, are you?" you laugh.

"The priest had to die. He made it his business to forgive you pigs when what you do is unforgivable."

"Sam! Burn the journal!" Dean yells loudly.

You push a glowing red hand to her chest and start to absorb her power, making her weaker by the second. She cries out in pain but you suck as much of her power as you can. By the time Sam burns the journal, your entire body is high. This high is nothing like what you've experienced before. Isabella pushes you away and you stumble backward just as she goes up in flames.

"Euphoric," you grin and lean against the wall.

The Mark craves power and you're more than happy to give power to it from any source. First, it was from Cain, then Isabella, and who knows next? You might be sucking up human souls just to feel this way again. On the way home, Dean looks at you through the rearview mirror to see you playing with wisps of red magic.

"You know, you were in that confessional for a long time." Dean gives him a weird look but Sam passes it off. "I'm just saying, I'm your brother, Dean. If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody, you have somebody right here next to you."

"Okay."

"I heard what Sister Mathias was saying about, you know, hiding pain by taking on a mission. I know that's what you're doing a little bit, and it's okay. I mean, it's fine. I get it. I've done it before, too, but I don't buy for one second that the Mark is a terminal diagnosis, so don't go making peace with that idea. There has to be a way. There will be a way, and we will find it. That's what we do. So, believe that."

Dean meets your eyes in the rearview mirror. You have a challenge in your eyes that dares him to say it. He swallows down his fear and looks at Sam.

"I told you, Sam. We're not looking for it. Drop it. I mean it." Sam doesn't have to look at you to know why he said that. To get his and your mind off the Mark, he decides to talk about something you did. "You sucked that ghost's power like it was easy."

"And?"

"You've never been able to do that before."

"Well, I've never been this person. I can do a lot of things you don't know about."

"That's why you want to go hunting? To steal power from people?"

"I got to give you credit where credit is due, Dean. You might look pretty and dumb, but I guess you got a brain floating up in there somewhere, right?"

Dean and Sam choose not to say anything else to you. They don't know what to say that will be beneficial for everyone. Instead, they sit in silence the rest of the way home. You leave the Bunker to go to the bar, Sam goes to his room to unwind, and Dean heads to the library. There has to be something in here that will tell him more about the Scarlet Witch. He finds the journal of all the Sapphire Witches but none of them mention anything about a Scarlet Witch. Dean grabs a few books that might be of help and sits at the library table, hell-bent on figuring out what it's going to take to bring you down.

You have to have a weakness, and he's going to find it.

Dean spent all night reading everything he could about the Scarlet Witch, and he didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he heard his phone beep next to him. He grows frustrated and slams the books closed. He gets up and slams his hands against his thighs angrily, and every single book on the table goes flying off it across the room. He looks down at his hands and his eyes widen in shock.

"Sammy!" he yells as loudly as he can. "Sam!!"

"What? What happened?" Sam asks as he runs into the library. "Whoa, what happened?"

"I think we have a problem."

Dean turns to his brother with blue magic pouring out of his hands.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural season 10

18 notes · View notes

atwooozi · 5 months ago

Text

gojo x original character

Chapter 6: Chaos

summary: Despite her professional demeanor, Ai finds herself unexpectedly flustered by Gojo's antics, causing her to question her feelings and professional boundaries.

genre: modern AU, slice of life, comedy, eventual romance, eventual smut, some angst

A/N: I'm really proud of how this chapter turned out. I'm working with Zark and their notes have been incredibly helpful on adding a whole lot of depth to my story and characters that I was otherwise missing. I'm really grateful to them, so if you haven't checked out any of their work you really should.

Additionally, the song I picked out to go along with this chapter is Yuck by Charli XCX . I love the funky beat on this track and I feel that the lyrics suit this chapter pretty well. I just wish it was longer and promoted properly by her label.

READ ON AO3

The life of a celebrity seemed like a different world to Ai when she was a child. As a kid, she always pictured each famous person walking around in a bubble, like the bubbles children blew at parks and such. They seemed untouchable, otherworldly, even god-like at times in the way they carried themselves. She didn't want to be like them, but she wished she could see the world as they did.

However, if young Ai could see what adult Ai did now she might feel different.

Ai sighed as she watched Gojo Satoru force his younger co-star, Fushiguro Megumi, to teach him how to make shadow puppets on the wall of his dressing room. Between the clicks and flashes from the Geto's camera, Ai wondered if her younger self would find this amusing or if her ideas of celebrities would burst.

The ideas usually did burst over time. Ai remembered her first encounter with Nobara, who looked so poised and elegant when she had walked into the cafe, but slipped into her regular Tohoku accent as soon as Ai mentioned she was from the countryside. It took her by surprise but at the same time, it reminded her of home.

But with Gojo…Ai felt that maybe Gojo Satoru would kill all her ideals of celebrity in an instant, whether that was a good thing or not she wasn’t exactly sure.

“Can I leave?” Fushiguro asked as he put his hands down.

“Don't leave, Gumi-chan,” Gojo whined as he continued to try and make a rabbit with his hands. Since Gojo's fingers were so long, every animal he attempted to make looked pretty grotesque in comparison.

“I think I'm getting it!” Gojo said as he curled his fingers a bit more.

Ai and Junpei tilted their heads as they looked at Gojo's attempt at a shadow puppet. “I don't think that's right, Gojo-san…” Junpei said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Geto grimaced as he looked through the viewfinder of his camera. “Satoru, that’s awful...” he put his camera down. “Can you make it look less bad?”

“Yeah, it looks more like a monster.” Ai chimed in.

“I accept praise only, thank you ,” Gojo huffed as he continued to move his hands.

Fushiguro sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. “I'm leaving.”

“No,” Gojo whined and grabbed Fushiguro's sleeve. “You're so mean to me, Gumi-chan.”

Fushiguro expertly moved out of Gojo's grasp, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Don't call me that.”

The messy-haired man left the room quickly after without much of a fuss from Gojo.

“Gumi might seem like he hates me, but he's just awkward at showing his feelings,” Gojo said, looking over his shoulder at Ai with a smile.

Ai gave Gojo a skeptical look. “Are you sure about that?”

Gojo gave a firm nod. “Mhm!” He stood up from his chair. “I was friends with his dad.”

“Really?” Ai sat up a bit in her seat.

Gojo nodded eagerly. “Yup!”

Whenever Gojo started talking it always seemed to go one of two ways. Either Ai would learn something that shattered her idea about the man or he would just lead her down a path to nothing. Gojo was many things, but “concise” wasn’t one of them. She hated to admit it, but he was very good at capturing his audience, or maybe Ai was just a bigger idiot than she knew herself to be.

To save face, Ai chose to believe in the former rather than the latter. Still, she found herself waiting with bated breath for Gojo to continue with the story. “...Well?”

Gojo cocked his head and gave Ai a confused look. “What?”

“...That's it?”

“What's it?”

“...You were friends with Fushiguro-kun's dad.”

Gojo nodded.

Ai gestured in the air as if asking him to continue. However, Gojo similarly moved his arms to hers as if asking her to continue for him. The man was truly insufferable at this point. It made Ai doubt that she would ever get anything from him without having to force it out of the weirdo.

“Gojo!” Ai said in a frustrated tone.

“What?” Gojo held his hands up in defense.

“I thought you were going to tell a story just now.”

Gojo shrugged. “I mean… it's not really my story to tell.”

Ai relented and turned away from Gojo. She thought she was finally getting somewhere with him but he would always just get a bit further out of her grasp. She wondered if he did this on purpose. Knowing Gojo, he probably did.

“ Fine , keep your secrets,” Ai muttered under her breath.

Turning her attention back to the chaos unfolding in the dressing room, Ai watched as Gojo continued his futile attempts at shadow puppets. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but admire his relentless optimism even when each creature he tried to make looked so… ugly .

“Hey, Ai-chan, you wanna give it a try?” Gojo asked as he looked back her way, a large grin on his face.

Ai blinked in surprise. “Huh?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s fun!” Gojo waved her over to join him.

Ai hesitated for a moment, she looked back to Junpei and Geto for anything. Junpei urged her on as Geto quietly took photos. As unsure as she felt there wasn’t much else to do. With a shrug, she decided to indulge the guy a little.

“Fine,” Ai said with a small smile, stepping forward towards Gojo.

Ai tried her best to copy Gojo’s hand movements but only fumbled through making the shapes. How on earth did Fushiguro do this so easily? She thought Gojo wasn’t trying hard enough, but it felt so awkward to hold her fingers in such a way.

Gojo chuckled as he looked over at Ai’s hands. “No, you’re doing it wrong,” he said as he carefully moved her fingers. He smiled at her gently, letting his glasses slide down his nose as he gazed at her.

Ai felt heat rise to her face as Gojo helped her make a rabbit with her hands. She hated herself for it. She felt shy because Gojo was close and touched her fingers so delicately. She didn’t realize that Gojo was capable of being so gentle.

If anyone asked her about it, Ai would deny it. She would lie without hesitance. But she couldn’t deny the thrill she felt from his touch. It was a simple gesture, but it felt intimate as if they were sharing a secret moment despite Junpei and Geto being in the dressing room with them moving around getting shots, and adjusting the lighting.

“Like this,” Gojo whispered, his breath tickling her ear as he adjusted her fingers. Ai’s heart raced from the proximity, her cheeks flushed even more. She found herself holding her breath, not wanting to disrupt the moment, but also hoping that maybe she’d die.

“O-okay, that’s enough,” Ai said, once she heard the shutter of Geto's camera go off. She pulled away from Gojo and quickly retreated towards Geto and Junpei. She felt the need to hide herself from Gojo and for some reason, her instinct was to use Geto and Junpei as shields or to run.

“Are you okay, senpai?” Junpei asked as he turned to face her. “Your face is all red.”

Ai’s heart pounded in her chest, her cheeks ablaze with her own embarrassment. She did her best to muster up a smile and let out a nervous laugh, doing whatever she could to brush off the moment she just had with Gojo but the memory persisted, sending shivers down her spine.

“Y-Yup!” Ai managed to say. “It’s warm in here, right?”

“Is it?” Geto asked as he lowered his camera to check the pictures he had just taken. He wore a knowing smile, his sharp eyes twinkling with amusement.

If Ai weren’t so flustered she’d probably say something to Geto, but her mind was in such a flurry that she had to drop it. Although he could be somewhat irresponsible he was annoyingly observant.

Stupid photographer…

“Mhm!” Ai nodded her head. “I am…going to get some air!” she said as she quickly grabbed her jacket and bag.

Before anyone could say anything else Ai stepped out of the dressing room, and quickly made her way out of the building. The cool air hit her face and she closed her eyes in relief. She took a deep breath and leaned against the wall of the building. When she looked down at her hands she couldn't help but frown. There was a lingering sensation of Gojo’s touch and the warmth of her breath against her ear. Just thinking about it again made her heart race.

She couldn’t believe how easily flustered she had become at that moment. It was such a silly thing to get so bothered about. On top of that, it was Gojo Satoru. The thought of getting so worked up by him made Ai scrunch up her face in disgust.

She wouldn’t have been so upset with herself if she had this reaction from Geto, but no it had to be Gojo. Stupid Gojo with his stupid pretty hair, his stupid impossibly blue eyes, and his stupid nice smile.

She hated him.

Except she didn't hate him. Not even a little. That's what made it worse. Ai could tell herself the same few lies over and over again, but she knew deep down what she was truly feeling. It made her nauseous. She felt like she was going to be sick…She couldn't let the lines blur like this. Gojo was a celebrity. Celebrities were in a league of their own. People developed crushes on Gojo every single day. Ai liking him wasn't anything special. But unlike most people, she had to work with him.

Ai brought her hands to her face as she tried to compose herself. She couldn’t afford to get distracted, not when there was so much still that needed to be done. She wasn’t just going to let her silly emotions get in the way of her job. With a determined exhale, Ai straightened up and made her way back into the building. She wasn't going to let her emotions win.

Heading back to the dressing room, Ai was greeted by Geto and Junpei. Although relieved she was also slightly disappointed that Gojo was no longer there. She wanted to prove to herself that she could handle being in a room with him and stay focused.

“These photos of Gojo-san and Fushiguro-kun are amazing, Geto,” Junpei said as he peered at the small camera display.

Geto nodded proudly, his eyes reminiscent of crescent moons. “Oh thank you so much, supervisor Junpei.”

“Will you two quit it?” Ai sighed as she plopped down on the couch.

The two men frowned at each other, both of them still a bit at odds since the project had started so awkwardly. There was no hostility between them but Geto’s sarcasm and Junpei’s more timid personality made them an odd pair. Thankfully, they were able to manage to work together which made Ai’s life just a tad bit easier.

Junpei started to gather his scattered papers before helping Geto with some of the portable softboxes that he had brought with him. Apparently, Gojo’s dressing room didn’t create the type of lighting that he had in mind for his pictures.

“Better?” Geto asked as he started to put his camera lens away.

Ai nodded. “Better.”

Geto looked as if he had something to say, but continued to help Junpei pack their things. Ai pushed her lingering feelings aside and focused on the task at hand, helping Geto and Junpei pack so they could all get out of there for the day.

“I’m going to call the driver,” Junpei said as he left ahead of Geto and Ai.

Ai nodded and waved the younger man off. She made a note to herself to buy Junpei lunch after all this was over. He took care of all the tedious things that made the job harder, without her even having to ask. The boy was truly a blessing.

“Did you want to get a drink after this?” Geto asked.

Geto had taken Ai to a rather unassuming bar. It looked a lot like the traditional townhouses littered around Kyoto. Ai thought that if she walked past it on the street she’d miss it. The inside of the small place felt rather sleek and sophisticated with its dark wood counters and stools. For some reason, it reminded her of Geto. He fit the aesthetics of the city so perfectly.

“Take a seat,” Geto said as he sat down near the corner of the bar, gesturing to the stool next to him.

Ai nodded and sat on the stool next to the one Geto had offered her. She was thankful that he didn’t question her decision to create a purposeful space between them. It wasn’t that Ai wasn’t comfortable around Geto, but she felt so at odds with herself because of what had happened earlier with Gojo. She was worried that if she bumped elbows with Geto she might send herself into orbit.

It made Ai wonder if she was a bad person in her past life. If not a bad person in her past life, she must’ve done something to be cursed by someone in this life. She couldn’t come up with a reason as to why either of those things might’ve happened, but that was the only way she could explain this. She had never felt so out of tune with herself before.

Ai groaned and rested her head in her arms. “I’m so stupid.”

Geto eyed Ai with concern as he ordered himself a drink. “...Maybe a little.”

Ai frowned and looked over at Geto with a glare. “You’re not helpful.”

Geto chuckled as he watched Ai and took a sip of his sake. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

Ai pouted as she looked over the drink menu–she couldn’t even handle a White Claw on a good day, so she ordered a "Naked and Famous" without giving it much thought. Although she felt so out of sorts, she was relieved that she could still find some humor in the situation.

The bartender worked fast–it seemed like as soon as they put their orders in the drinks were already in front of them.

Ai took a cautious sip and did her best not to grimace at the bitter aftertaste of the alcohol in the back of her throat.

Ai jutted out her lower lip as she stared at the gross drink in front of her, debating on whether she should try to force herself to drink the rest.

“So Ai-san…” Geto broke the silence, swirling his sake in his cup as he glanced her way. There was an irritatingly smug smile on his face. Ai was almost afraid to acknowledge him. She wasn’t prepared for whatever he was going to throw at her.

“Yes, Suguru-san?” Ai frowned at the demon masquerading as a photographer sitting close to her, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Geto couldn’t help but snicker at Ai's tone. He bit his lip to keep from laughing before he continued. “Did you get flustered like that around Nobara?”

Ai gaped at him. She wasn’t surprised at his question, but she didn’t expect him to lay it out so frankly. “What would you like written on your headstone, Geto?”

Geto laughed and took a long sip of his sake. “Don’t be so cruel, Ai-san.”

Ai huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. She was starting to seriously regret going out for drinks with Geto. She should’ve opted to go back to the hotel like Junpei and sort through her notes.

“What really happened back there?” Geto asked as he rested his chin in his palm. Unlike earlier, Geto appeared to be more serious now.

His sudden shift in mood threw Ai off completely. She sat up and ran her fingertips along the stem of her glass, trying to distract herself from her own anxiety.. “...I don’t know,” she said softly. “I think I, uh, just got caught up in the moment.”

Geto sipped his sake quietly. While he didn’t say anything his face said it all. He didn’t believe her.

And for the record, Ai didn’t believe what she was saying either. She knew that she was in trouble, but somehow Geto confronting her with her own bullshit made it feel worse.

Ai sighed and leaned back in her chair, her thoughts swirling as she tried to make sense of her own feelings. “I think…I guess– I just got carried away,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Geto listened intently, his gaze steady on Ai. He waited quietly for her to continue.

Ai fidgeted with her glass, avoiding Geto’s gaze. “I don’t know…It’s hard to explain. I think it’s just all the time I have to spend with him.” Ai frowned as she tried to make sense of what she was saying. “And he was being so…so… ”

“So Satoru?”

Ai nodded. “So Gojo .” She swallowed thickly. “And then he…he touched my hand, and it was like…I don’t know.” Ai shook her head as she remembered the feeling.

Geto nodded slowly as he listened. “You felt something.”

Ai’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn’t deny it. “Yeah,” she admitted, begrudgingly. “I felt something.”

Geto chuckled to himself causing Ai to glare at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“You like Satoru~,” Geto said in a teasing sing-song voice. How old was he? Ten?

“I don’t like you .” Ai huffed as she turned her head away from Geto. The way he shifted moods so quickly was giving her whiplash.

Geto bit his lip but broke out into a smile. “I know,” he did his best to hold back his laughter. “You like Satoru.”

“Do you want to die?” Ai frowned at him.

Geto raised an eyebrow, his smile widening into a grin. “Nah, not today.” He leaned back in his chair, swirling the sake in his glass. “Maybe next Christmas when I’m left all by myself.” Geto sniffled and wiped a fake tear away from his eye.

Ai rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “You’re both really annoying, you know that?”

Geto chuckled as he poured more sake into his cup. “I know…it really gets under your skin, doesn’t it, Ai-san?”

Ai sighed as she stared down at the liquid in her glass. She didn’t want to acknowledge Geto’s question; he'd probably just tease her more.

“We're handsome too, right?”

Ai scrunched up her face as if she had eaten something sour. “No comment.”

“Off the record, then?” Geto asked as he leaned in a bit closer, forcing Ai to look at his annoyingly perfect, symmetrical face.

Ai met Geto’s gaze and pursed her lips slightly as she thought about what to say. She smiled to herself and gave Geto a concerned look, causing his expression to change with hers.

“What?” Geto asked, his tone less playful than before.

Ai reached out her hand carefully to touch Geto’s hairline, causing him to flinch back in confusion.

“Suguru-san…if you keep wearing your hair like that you’ll make your hairline recede even further,” Ai said in the most serious tone she could muster.

“You're no fun,” Geto said with a pout as his hand went up to feel where his hair met the top of his forehead. “Joking like that …my father is bald.”

Ai chuckled at Geto, but her mixture of feelings continued to stir within her. She couldn’t help but feel a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. She always prided herself in her professionalism, but now…She was so upset she didn’t even want to admit what she was feeling to herself.

And while Ai appreciated Geto’s presence, his teasing didn’t help clarify anything. Still, it’s not like she could have this type of conversation with Junpei. She didn’t want her kouhai to lose any respect for her. It was hard enough that she was already losing respect for herself.

Taking a deep breath, Ai tried to focus on the logical side of her brain, she loved that side of her. She knew it well. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake off the memories from earlier with Gojo.

“Maybe I’m just overthinking this whole thing,” Ai muttered to herself.

Not a complete lie, but she knew it wasn’t just a simple case of overthinking.

“You know, Ai-san,” Geto began, his tone gentler than earlier, “there’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling. You can’t rationalize your emotions. Sometimes we just feel things.”

Ai sighed, as she listened to Geto. “It’s just frustrating.” She gripped at the hem of her skirt. “I’ve always prided myself on being able to be a professional and maintain control, but with him… ” Ai trailed off, unable to find the right words to express what she was feeling.

“Yeah…Toru doesn’t really come to mind when I think of professionalism and control.” Geto said thoughtfully.

“Is that true though?” Ai questioned.

“Hm?” Geto raised his eyebrow at her.

“Well–it’s just that Gojo does seem irresponsible and impulsive, but on set, he’s the most professional person I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, really?” Geto asked with a rather amused smile. “You’ve been watching him more closely than I thought.”

Ai just listened to Geto quietly. She couldn’t tell anymore if he was trying to be helpful or if this was just his way of making fun of her.

“Hey,” Geto called out to Ai, grabbing her attention.

“Maybe letting go of some of that control is okay?” Geto looked over at Ai trying to gauge her reaction. “Satoru is a lot of things, but he isn’t a bad guy.”

Geto set his sake cup down on the counter and studied the lines of the wood. He looked more thoughtful as he ran his hands along the grooves of the tabletop. “Before meeting Satoru I always felt like I was second best.” The corners of his lips quirked upwards in a rather bittersweet smile. “In everything …second best, second choice no matter how hard I tried I could never be more than second.” He glanced Ai’s way before continuing. “But then Satoru came into my life and I knew he was better than me. Things were just so easy for him, but he never saw me as competition and I hated him for it…but one day he told me that I was his first friend, his equal…and I wanted to cry. He never saw me as competition, because in his eyes I was always his equal.” Geto sighed but gave Ai a small smile. “Sorry for rambling.”

Ai shook her head. “Don't be sorry.”

Geto let out a mirthless chuckle and smiled to himself. It was like he was staring through her, past her, reliving his memories with Gojo. “I guess what I'm trying to say is I know that liking your subject as a journalist has some ethical concerns…” He paused for a moment as he tried to find what he wanted to say. “But liking Satoru as you are, the woman, Amada Ai, not the journalist isn’t a bad thing. Does that make sense?”

Ai mulled over Geto’s words. Maybe she was too high-strung…She couldn’t even remember the last time she had a crush on anyone. It’s not like she had to do anything about the crush. Crushes just come and go anyway. It was just like Geto said, liking Gojo wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe it was time to allow herself to embrace the messiness that came with having to work with Gojo Satoru. How bad could that be? Crushes were harmless. As long as no one acted on anything it would be fine. She wouldn't let it get out of hand.

“Thanks for this,” Ai smiled as she looked over at Geto.

Geto returned Ai's smile. He raised his glass in a silent toast. “To embracing the chaos?”

Ai chuckled, feeling a bit better about the whole situation. Ai clinked her glass against Geto’s and reluctantly took a sip of her drink. The tequila left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“To embracing the chaos.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #jjk gojo fic #jjk fic #jjk gojo #jjk #gojo x oc #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen

15 notes · View notes

gumnut-logic · 8 months ago

Text

Heavy Lifting

Just a quick scene. A little action and lots of desperation for poor Virg. He really shouldn't be subject to my fluctuating moods. Like, really? Poor boi :D

He really loves his littlest brother, by the way.

I hope you enjoy this angstfest.

-o-o-o-

“Alan! Don’t let go!”

“Virg, I’m slipping!”

To Virgil’s horror, Alan did slip. He clamped down with every muscle in his arm and gut, desperate to hold onto his littlest brother.

But he could still feel those small gloved fingers sliding ever so slowly through his grip.

God, please, no.

He struggled, throwing idea after idea out of his mind, desperate to find a way to get Alan up and secured…to his belt, to the grapple line, to anything but his failing hold.

Virgil’s other arm had a gouge across his bicep, interfering with his ability to move it at all. It was screaming at him at the strain, but his heart was shouting louder as his brain could not supply a solution other than physically pulling his brother up and close with his one good arm.

Heavy lifting was his speciality, after all.

They were hanging off the side of a half-constructed skyscraper. It was raining and the wind was howling. Everything was wet including Virgil’s gloves.

Gecko gloves would have solved the majority of the problem. He automatically threw the tech onto his to-do list, to add to his everyday gloves, even triggering the initial design need to make the gecko grip appear at will.

But it didn’t help him or Alan right now.

“Virgil!”

Rain dripped down both their helmets, but he could still see his little brother’s face.

This was Virgil’s fault. He should have seen the structural vulnerability before the floor caved in, throwing both operatives over the edge. Virgil had grabbed his brother as they fell, firing his grapple gun just like he had done in so many training situations, but his uniform had been caught, followed by skin and his grip faltered.

And Alan fell from his arms.

It only took him a split second to recover and grab at his little brother, ever thankful to feel his hand wrapping around Alan’s, but now they were stuck, hands slipping, with a lethal drop below, hidden in the darkness.

He had to pull his brother up.

Heavy lifting.

He’s not heavy…

He’s my brother.

Hysterical thought for a terrifying whiteout as he pulled Alan up with every fibre he had.

Voice hoarse. “Alan climb!”

The wind pushed at them and they swung, spinning.

Virgil groaned, body screaming.

While Virgil contracted his arm, Alan was obviously struggling to get a second grip, his body twisting in an attempt to reach up but not lose what little grip he had. Rain poured down on them and waterproof suits shed the water in rivulets.

Virgil found he could not lift his brother up.

God, please.

“Alan!”

Fingers slipped further.

Virgil squeezed Alan’s hand tighter. Broken fingers could be fixed later.

Again he tried to pull his little brother up, even a little, enough for Alan to grab onto Virgil’s body and save himself.

Something cracked in his injured arm and Virgil screamed.

Scott was yelling into his ear.

Scott? “Scott, I can’t!” Tears ran down his cheeks.

Lightning flickered in the remains of the storm, and thunder rolled across the earth.

Alan’s fingers were slipping and…

…then they were gone.

“NO!!” The denial was ripped from his throat as his brother screamed his name.

And fell.

His little brother!

There was no slow motion. Alan was just gone. Taken by height and rain.

Lightning flickered again.

Oh, god.

His brain froze, unwilling to believe, but forced to focus on fact.

The rain still whipped against his faceplate, his now empty hand flailing in the air. The world kept moving…

But…

“Virgil!”

Scott was suddenly in his face, his arms wrapping around him, hauling him upwards, his fingers prodding Virgil’s injured arm loose from the now lax grapple line.

Virgil hung limp in his grasp.

How could he face Scott?

How could he…?

Alan.

“Virgil, talk to me.”

Scott was in his face again. Virgil was on solid ground, his arm still screaming.

He didn’t have a voice. His throat was so tight, he could barely breathe.

A couple of clicks and Scott was removing his helmet. He was in his beloved ‘bird. Her well-lit module protected them from the storm outside.

Scott threw off his helmet. “Virgil?”

His brother needed an answer. “…Alan.” The name scraped across his larynx, his tongue.

His heart.

“Virgil?”

It was his name, but Scott hadn’t spoken.

Alan appeared behind Scott, worry on his face.

Virgil’s brain locked up.

“Alan?!” He threw himself at his little brother.

“Whoa!” Unfortunately, Virgil discovered he wasn’t stable enough to keep his own feet under him, and Alan wasn’t the heavy lifting brother, falling under Virgil, unable to support his weight.

Again, Scott caught him, grunting as he took his weight.

“I’m okay, Virg! I’m okay!”

But Virgil refused to let him go, hugging him to his chest as Scott haphazardly lowered the both of them to the floor.

Virgil buried his face in his little brother’s hair. “Allie, oh, god, Allie.”

“I’m okay, Virg. Need to breathe.”

“Virgil, you’re bleeding.” Scott tugged gently on his arm. The arm that was screaming even more now he was using it to hug the brother he thought he had lost.

“I’m sorry, Alan, so sorry.”

“Hey, I’m okay, big guy. See…” He brought his forehead down to touch Virgil’s. “Scott caught me.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Yes, he was beside himself. There were tears, tears of relief.

“Virgil, sit back, you’re bleeding all over your ‘bird.” Again, Scott was attempting to move him, his voice commanding yet all worried big brother.

“C’mon, big bro, sit back, and let us fix you up, okay?”

Virgil followed Alan with his eyes, but he obeyed, sitting back against something that was suddenly behind him on the floor as Scott pulled out a laser cutter and began slicing up his uniform to get to the injury.

Virgil settled for grabbing Alan’s hand and holding on to it ever so tight.

And this time, he wouldn’t let go.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #alan tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic #it could be an Alan birthday fic #but its more Virg #poor Virgil

48 notes · View notes

spacexcowgirl · 1 year ago

Text

20 questions for fic writers

here's some stuff about me, thanks for the tag @magswrite <3

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

Four!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

169,069 (double 69 this is so embarrassing)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently only the marauders, but I've written for other fandoms in the past. On this account, my old Weasley fics can be found, and then I've written for a few other fandoms in other places.

4. What are you top 5 fics by kudos?

just like Maggie I do not have 5 fics lol so this is just my 4 from highest to lowest !!

we'll be just fine (even when I lose my mind) : 16k words, James loses his memories after a quidditch fall and doesn't remember his relationship with Regulus.

Foolish One : 5k word one shot. friends with benefits. miscommunication. mutual pining.

Mutually Assured Destruction : 113k word WIP. a "how to lose a guy in 10 days" au.

where milk and honey flow : 34k word WIP. band/fame au, multiple pairings, multiple tropes. this will be a long one.

5. Do you respond comments? Why or why not?

oh yes! I try to always reply, but sometimes it slips my mind and I forget. Most of the time I get to them, though! I love comments, and I appreciate when a reader takes time out to comment, so I want to show that appreciation by replying.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

so, I only have 2 completed fics, but it's no secret that all of my stuff is happy endings. if I had to pick, I'd say we'll be just fine. it's still a happy ending, but everything isn't perfect, you know?

7. What is a fic your wrote with the happiest ending?

again, only 2 completed fics, so at the moment, probably Foolish One? I think my long fics will beat that in the end though lol.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope! I have very nice commenters

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

hmmm hard to answer. have I in the past? yes. have I in any of my current fics? no, not yet. but wm&hf will have smut in it eventually.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest you’ve written?

nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

mmm at most I've had it reposted without my permission and without credit on another site, but have never had like a fic idea stolen.

12. Have you ever has a fic translated?

mmm no, but I have had one turned into audio format for accessibility?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

eeee as Maggie said, we have something in the works ;) something fun, very excited about it, but it's neither of our first priorities so it'll be a bit before its done!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

ooooh that's so hard. maybe my judgements clouded bc I'm so hyper fixated, but I do think it's jegulus. maybe that will change tho.

15. What’s a wip you what to finish but doubt you ever will?

the only thing I have started that I don't think I'll ever go back to is this mcd fic that's like a plane crash situation? everything else I fully intend to finish.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've gotten comments praising my prose and characterizations a few times, which really means the world to me. I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on grammar and clear ideas of what I want to happen.

17. What are you writing weaknesses?

okay, two things I think: first, I feel like I meander too much. takes me too long to get to the point, like I'm so fucking wordy so everything is always so slow moving. second, I feel like I'm so bad at like... describing surroundings and stuff.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I use google translate and I take any and all comment suggestions and make changes!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh my god I don't even want to say. (hints: RPF, a dance crew, I was in 6th grade). After that one, I kinda abandoned reading/writing fic until I was 19? and when I came back to it, I started in The 100 fandom!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

just going off of the ones I'm currently working with, wm&hf is my favorite. I've been brain rotting about it since like February, I have so many plans, and it just feels a lot more like something I'm really writing for me.

#tag game #mags tag

3 notes · View notes

mosscoveredrat · 6 months ago

Text

I'm going to do my awnser between two of my gods in my worlds (I mainly worldbuild but these two tend to show up and interfere the most so I think it'll be funny) it'll be between the god/goddess of revelry and madness, and the lady death. (Represented as P and D respectively)

---

Whats their best Trait?:

P: "well... they are always punctual and she takes her job very! Seriously! Perhaps a bit too seriously if you know what I mean!"

D: "no one knows what you mean mom, but if I had to awnser I'd say they bring a certain mirth and chaos to the world that no one else I know does"

Whats their worst Trait?:

P: "Oh definitely the inability to let go! She still has an old feather from the first life she had to take!"

D: "alcoholism, you wouldn't think god could get drunk... you'd be wrong"

Are they a good person?:

P: "Ultimately, everything has to come to an end, and I'm proud of her for doing the job that needs to be done. I'd say she is typically considered evil by the mortals, but they only really have half the picture."

D: "define good... then define person, jury is still put if they can meet either of those criteria, they are more of a force of nature than anything"

Do you really know them?:

P: "I'd say I do, I've known her all her life, and she hasn't stopped being predictable since"

D: "absolutely not and I'd prefer it stay that way thank you very much"

What are they to you?:

P: "one of my children, specifically one of my daughters"

D: "My creator... I guess Mother would be appropriate"

What are you to them?:

P: "Hopefully, someone she'll listen to once in awhile, but we all know that asking her to 'spare this mortal because their cute' isn't something she'll oblige"

D: "likely, a tool, something to get a job done and make sure it's done right."

What animal do they remind you of the most?:

P: "Panda! Because they are so black and white! Oh? You want a serious awnser... shame, fine. I'd think of them as a raven, constantly lurking around graveyards, feasting on the dead, and serving out omens"

D: "Oh, that's a tough one, I can honestly give three separate answers for this, shrike immediately comes to mind, but so does hornet and circus tiger"

Are they your type?

P & D: [simultaneous vomiting]

Whats their greatest fear?

P: "ghosts, the souls of those who have slipped from her grasp! Oh how sweet..."

D: "spiders"

Whats your best memory with them?

P: "the day she formed from the shattered fragmented memories of her past self like a Phoenix riseing from the ashes!"

D: "she took me to see the gravestone of my first follower... it was... nice"

Worst?

P: "she did stab me with her quill that one time... it hurt, I'm not used to feeling pain"

D: "That time I stabbed them with my quill. It was nice at first, but it quickly turned into the most terrifying experience I've been through."

How long have you two known each other?:

P: "her entire life! After all I did make her!"

D: "My entire life"

How has your relationship changed recently?:

P: "she's been so engrossed in her work to really pay any attention to the affairs of the other gods, so I guess you could say that we've grown apart"

D: "I've finally gotten some peace and quiet, all that constant drumming and dancing just was grating on my nerves"

Are they a good leader?

P & D: [simultaneously] "no!"

OC Duo Answers Ask Game

So because I'm incapable of doing things the conventional way, here's an idea: for these asks, instead of picking an OC and just saying things (which I like, don't get me wrong), to answer these asks pick two characters, and answer the questions as if each character were talking about the other. These answers don't have to be accurate; they reflect each character's perceptions of the other. They can be friends, family, enemies, anything to each other.

😇- What's their best trait?

👿- What's their worst trait?

⚖️- Are they a good person?

👁️- Do you really know them?

👥- What are they to you?

❤️- What are you to them?

🐺- What animal do they most remind you of?

😘- Are they your type?

😨- What's their greatest fear?

🧠- What's your best memory with them? Worst?

👣- How long have you known each other?

🫂- How has your relationship changed recently?

🫡- Are they a good leader?

If you guys have asks you want to add in the reblogs, go ahead, ik this isn't a lot.

Gonna tag people below the cut to get this started:

@the-ellia-west, @somethingclevermahogony, @thewritingautisticat, @smudged-red-ink, @aesthetic-writer18

@tildeathiwillwrite, @agirlandherquill, @illarian-rambling, @corinneglass, and @diabolical-blue!

858 notes · View notes

sluttywonwoo · 3 years ago

Text

pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu.

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera.

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips.

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap.

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead.

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random.

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat.

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor.

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion.

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked.

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu��s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his.

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily.

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud.

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!”

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler.

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him.

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset.

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him.

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you.

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts.

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up.

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence.

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued.

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?”

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard.

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there.

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to.

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback!!

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

#pretend #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x female reader #wonwoo smut #wonu smut #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

1K notes · View notes