#so she can see and breathe underwater
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here’s those old invincible mermaid au designs I kept talking about
#invincible mermaid au#beta designs#mermaid!nolan#mermaid!mark#mark’s tail is based off of a blue tang!#debbie has an amulet on that nolan gave her#so she can see and breathe underwater#mermay#invincible show#invincible#invincible fanart#nolan grayson#omniman#mark grayson#debbie grayson#i love them all very much#the family ever#putting this in on the final day of mermay lolz#crismakesstuff
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keeping his scales clean 🤭
#mine#ts4#sims 4#the sims 4#simblr#sims#ofmd#ed#ofmd sims#mermaids#breathing underwater#KINDA lol anything mermaid ed related goes in that tag#rest assured even when i am not working on that fic#i am still thinking about mermaid ed my beloved#did i ever mention my friend has him tattooed on her thigh because she does and everytime i think abt that im like holy shit#also i started working on a mostly pwp BU oneshot#BUT then i realized it could actually be a filler chapter so MAYBE i will have some fic stuff........... at some point lol#but the second i realized it could be something i could share i started losing enthusiasm so i gotta think of it as something#i might not ever share lol????#idk!!!!!#but ive actually got two good plotty ideas that i can work into it so....... we shall see!!!
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Melon!AU
Actual writing now, based on this post:
“What,” Tim breathes out faintly, “the fuck is that?”
Language, Bruce thinks faintly, though he doesn't manage to get it past his lips.
He is a man who prides himself on being ready for anything, but he most certainly didn't expect something like this when responding to the Batsignal tonight.
“That is a Pit Demon,” Damian's voice asserts through comms, grave in a way that betrays his collected mask. He's unnerved. “There is nothing else that could be.”
Bruce is unnerved too, though he refuses to show it.
Gordon had half the block cordoned off so no civilians would come through by the time Bruce and Tim - the closest at the time - had arrived on scene. The alley itself is blocked in by police cruisers, though the officers are staying very firmly behind the line and not approaching.
It's no wonder why.
The…thing backed into a dead end alley looks like it's made of smoke and shadow, all long sinuous lines and dangerous angles.
It's vaguely Humanoid in the sense that it has a long torso, arms and a head. The arms are too long, the fingers curved and wickedly sharp. The face is a well of deep shadow, a smooth slate broken only when it opens its jagged mouth to show off a full arsenal of fangs.
The only other facial features are the solid, glowing Lazarus green eyes. Wide and lamp-like, they give the distinct feeling that the creature's sights will not miss anything.
There are no legs. Just the sinuous curves and overlaps of a long smokey tail. It whips about with agitation.
Floating like mist on the water is a head of white hair, edges fuzzy and undefined like it can't decide whether it's a solid or a gas.
The creature lays with its chest nearly flat to the ground, propped up only by those horrifically sharp hands and poised like a predator ready to push off into a sprint.
Glowing Lazarus water seems to pool slowly beneath it, streaked here and there as evidence of past movement.
Bruce finally finds his tongue to question Damian. He can see his youngest standing on the opposite roof of he and Tim, the two buildings that form the alley their perch.
“You've seen something like this before?”
Damian hesitates. “...no. But there are stories of things coming out of the Pits. I doubt I need to explain why this seems to be one of them.”
With that color green shining out of its face and streaked across the alley? No. No, he doesn't.
“Do your stories have any clues on what to do when one shows up?” Tim asks, unable to tear his eyes away from the creature.
Damian scoffs. “Close your eyes and hope your end is quick.”
“Lovely,” Tim bites out, voice a little higher pitched than normal.
“We won't be doing that,” Bruce responds dryly, two taps coming through the comms notifying them of Black Bat's arrival.
Bruce looks up and has to search for her for a few seconds before he can make her out in the shadows of Damian's rooftop.
“I'm still five minutes out,” Dick comms in. “What exactly are we looking at here? Can Oracle give a visual with any cams?”
“I wish,” Oracle chimes in. “Even through the mask footage I have no idea what they're seeing. The feed is corrupted to hell and back whenever it's in frame.”
“Really? In person it looks like-”
Tim is cut off when the officers below make some kind of movement the monster clearly takes issue with, the snarl that almost physically ricochets off the brick walls making everyone wince.
It's like TV static and the crackle of lightning striking a tree, like glaciers cracking and shifting underwater all rolled into one.
The hair on the back of Bruce's neck stands on end.
“Fuck. It's like a living shadow, but all sharp and wrong and angry-”
“No,” Cass cuts in quietly, silencing everyone.
“...Black Bat?” Bruce questions lowly.
“Not angry,” she responds, as sure as ever when assessing a target - no matter what kind of target.
“Scared, hurt. Guarding chest, trying to hide it. Wants to scare us away, but making no move to attack. Posturing.”
The thing about Cass is that they trust her reads implicitly - her reads of people.
She wouldn't speak up if she wasn't certain, and she wouldn't be certain if she didn't see something painfully human in the creature below.
“...what do you suggest?” Bruce asks after a moment of tense silence, trying to reassess the creature and see what she sees.
He at the very least wants her opinion, so they can weigh it in formulating a plan here.
Cass keeps looking for a long moment, before she looks across the gap at him. “Needs help. Reach out - at least try.”
Masterpost
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Baby Fever - LN4
landonorris x fem!reader
summary: summer vacation with lando and his family, especially his little nieces have got you feeling a certain desire
warnings: a bit of kissing but apart from that just fluff
part two
masterlist | taglist
"Baby, look!", Lando called from a distance. You slowly opened your eyes and sat up, having laid spread out on a tanning bed, enjoying the warm spanish sun gracing your body.
Your boyfriend held his niece Mila in his arms, or better said, on his shoulders. The little girl let out squeaks of laughters, especially when Lando crouched down a little and stretched his legs again.
An unfamiliar feeling tugged at your heart and a warmth that definitely wasn’t from the sun spread inside of you.
Mila squealed a little. "You wanna get down?", Lando asked softly, and she nodded so he placed her gently on the yacht deck.
The little girl walked closer to the edge of the yacht, making Lando react quickly and snatch her into his arms again. "Heyyy careful, darling", he mumbled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Swim!", Mila called out and pointed to the ocean.
"Of course we can go swim but you need your floats", Lando genteel explained and stroke his fingers over her back. The little girl nodded and looked around for her mum. "Let’s go find your mummy to ask her where she put them last time", he said, sending you a quick smile before disappearing.
You couldn’t whipe the smile off your face even if you wanted to. Seeing the way Lando interacted with his niece made you incredibly soft.
Only a few minutes later Lando "ran" back to your side of the yacht with Mila chasing after him. One quick glance told you, he held her floats in his hands.
He fell to the floor when she caught him and lifted her on his torso, making the girl giggle loudly.
"Baby help!", Lando called out for you between laughters and you shook your head with a grin on your face but got up from the bed and crouched down next to the two of them.
"Tie-Tie", Mila giggle when she saw you, her nickname for you based on "Auntie" which she still struggled to pronounce so Tie-Tie it was.
"Hello, darling", you smiled and poked her side a little. "Want me to help you with your floats?" She nodded and held one of the pink floats out for you to take. With her still sitting on Lando’s torso you put on both of her floats before lifting her up and placing her on the deck. Together you walked over to the edge of the yacht but before you could safely enter the water with the little girl, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, body checking you into the ocean.
You let out a scream, trying to wriggle out of Lando’s arms underwater to catch some air. "I hate you!", you called, slapping your boyfriends’ shoulders before placing your hands on his shoulder and putting weight on them to dunk him into the water again.
From the boat you could hear Mila’s giggles while she was watching the two of you.
You swam closer again, motioning her that it’s safe to jump into your arms. "Come here. Close your eyes and jump", you encouraged the little girl and smiled when she did as you said.
Lando had swum closer to you in the meantime, wrapping an arm around your waist so you wouldn’t have to kick your feet as hard to hold yourself up. You placed one arm around Lando’s shoulders and leaned in for a second.
"I love watching you interact with her", you mumbled while both of you were watching Mila having fun in the water. Lando smiled and turned his head to you to press a short kiss on your lips.
You let your hand that wasn’t wrapped around him absently wander underneath the water until you felt his hard chest, from there on you traveled along his torso.
The deeper your hand went the shorter became Lando’s breaths. "Baby…", he muttered warningly. "Hm?", you asked, focus still on Mila. "I really love it when you’re feeling me up, don’t get me wrong, but maybe not when we have to watch my niece swimming in the ocean", he muttered and you quickly moved your hand. A surprised look grazed your face before you chuckled.
"I swear that wasn’t my intention", you laughed. "You know how comforting I find it to trace your body."
Lando crackled and placed a kiss on your lips.
"Hey watch the kid, dickhead. You can make out later!", you heard Max call and saw Pietra approaching behind him as well. Lando held up his middle finger as a response.
"Lando, darling! The food is ready!", his mum called before spotting the three of you in the ocean. "Well hurry up", she smiled nodding towards the rooms.
"Mila, honey, come on Grannie cooked!", Lando called and swam over to Mila to bring her back to the boat and lifted her out of the water.
You watched the two of them and swam closer to the boat as well. Lando was already sitting on the edge of the yacht and waited for you. Dopplets of water dripping down on his bare skin.
He gave you his hand to pull you up next to him. You pushed a few wet strands of his hair back and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. Lando’s hands rested on top of your thighs and smiled into the kiss.
He laid his forehead against yours, still staying close to you.
"Come on, let’s go", he muttered, pulling you up to your feet and leading you to your room.
Dripping wet Lando stood in front of the small closet, trying to figure out what to wear. You moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his naked torso, putting your cheek against his shoulders.
"I love you with Mila", you mumbled. Lando chuckled. "You tell me that quite often, baby", he said, placing his hands over yours on his stomach. "It’s true. You’re perfect with her", you smiled, pressing a light kiss to his right shoulder.
Lando turned around and leaned down to you and gently started kissing your lips, his hands moving from your shoulders down to your waist and pulled you in closer.
He moved you back a little until the back of your knees hit the bed. "We shouldn’t-", you muttered but allowed Lando to put you on the bed. "I thought you said you like me with children", Lando smiled, moving down between your bikini covered breast.
You giggles softly and pushed your hands in his curls. "I do, I totally do", you sighed as he places gentle kisses to your skin. You tapped his back a few times. "Come on, get up. Your mum’s made food", you said, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "What? I thought we can practice a little?", Lando whined. You let out a laugh and pushed him off you to the other side of the bed.
You got up and quickly exchanged your wet bikini for a dry one, hearing a groan from Lando behind you.
"You can’t say we can’t have sex and then proceed to undress in front of me!", he complained, making grabby hands to signal you to come back to bed. You laughed and took his hands but instead of getting in the bed with him you pulled him up into a sitting position. "Get changed and maybe later", you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips before throwing on your white sundress and leaving Lando to get changed.
Upstairs his family had already gathered around the table. Even Mila was faster at getting changed than Lando.
"Lando will be up in a second", you excused your boyfriend, only earning a joking eye roll from his older brother Oliver. "Don’t worry, we know what he’s like", Cisca chuckled and nodded to the two empty seats next to Pietra and Max.
After lunch you went back to the book you were reading prior to your little ocean trip. Lando’s head rested on your naked stomach, his arms around you and his eyes closed. You were sure he wasn’t actually sleeping and only relaxing a little as he’s been tracing your waist with his fingers.
A few minutes later, Mila waddled closer and tapped Lando’s back a few times. "Uncle Lan!", she called, making Lando open his eyes. "Let’s play!!"
Lando murmured something inaudible and snuggles closer into your stomach. You signaled Mila to climb on Lando’s legs.
Your boyfriend jokingly whined, lifting his niece up and turning around between your legs so his back was resting against your stomach.
Right then Sav walked out from downstairs, Athena in her arms. She immediately smiled when she saw the three of you.
"You look adorable!", she called out, walking closer to you. "Wait a second", Lando’s sister in law said before handing Lando his littlest niece.
He gently took her from Sav’s arms and crawled her safely into his arms. Mila was sitting between Lando’s legs, who sat between yours.
Savannah smiled and pulled out her phone quickly. "Let me take a picture of you”, she smiled, snapping a few pictures.
"My uterus can’t take this", you whined into Lando’s ear and pointed at the small baby girl in his arms and the other toddler in front of him. Lando broke out in a fit of laughter before turning his head to whisper something into your ear.
"Wanna practice?", Lando grinned smugly, causing you to hit his upper arm. "There are children around!", you hissed which made Lando only crackle.
part 2
taglist
@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn n @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name
#lando norris#f1#mclaren#lando gifs#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#ln4
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— general dating hc's
pairing: percy jackson, annabeth chase, leo valdez, piper mclean, hazel levesque, jason grace, frank zhang (respectively) x gn!reader
word count: 3.0k part two
percy jackson
�� underwater kisses!! all the time!! being a son of poseidon has its benefits. the whole experience is just magical fr. it's like being in a whole different world, where nothing else matters except for the two of you. the sensation of your lips touching, your bodies intertwined, and the sound of your breathing mixing with the water is simply unforgettable. the way your hands hold onto each other, the way your eyes lock, and the way your heart beats as one, it's a feeling that can't be replicated anywhere else.
• percy 100% teaches you how to skate. the first chance he gets, he'll lead you onto the smooth, concrete surface of the skate park with the intent of teaching you!!
he patiently guides you, holding your hands and rolling you along while walking beside you. he teaches you how to shift your weight, how to balance, and how to stop. and every time you stumble, he makes a huge show of catching you in his arms LMAO. like, it's not that serious, percy.
whenever he's skating alone, he can't help but think of you. :(( the way your hair sways in the wind, the sound of your laughter, and the warmth of your hand in his. he would often skate in circles, lost in thought, imagining you by his side. <33 (all the other skaters think he looks like a fool, but he doesn't care.)
• now don't tell me you two do not have matching jewelry, because you DO. he learns a lot about your style and preferences, (he knows if you look better in gold or silver) and the pretty necklaces and stuff are just a bonus!!
he wears a necklace with several charms all the time, since it was a gift from you! some of the charms include an ocean charm and a tiny silver skateboard that dangles from the delicate chain. whenever he misses you, he would reach up and touch the necklace, feeling the smooth metal under his fingers, and smile. <33
• whenever you explain things to percy, he nods his head in agreement, but you notice his gaze flickering towards your lips ever so often. you don't know what he's thinking, but his expression provides a pretty obvious hint as to what may be on his mind.
• growing up as a child of one of the big three can certainly take its toll on anyone, even percy. after a long day of training and preventing new campers from capsizing the canoes while racing with the naiads, all he wants is to melt into your embrace.
he sneaks into your cabin with you as soon as possible, laying down on your bed, a deep sigh escaping his lips and he stretches his neck from side to side, relishing in the brief moment of peace. his arms are outstretched, inviting you to join him, as he longs for the comfort and safety of your embrace.
it's clear that being in your presence has a calming effect on him, reassuring him that everything is going to be alright. <33
annabeth chase
• annabeth has a penchant for discovering new things to learn and become deeply invested in, and she talks to you about her newest interests all the time. when you take the time to listen to her ramblings about her current passions, she gets so excited!!
sometimes, you spend hours in the library researching the concepts and terminology she speaks of, just so that you can engage in a meaningful conversation with her instead of just nodding along. the effort is well worth it to see her reaction; the way her face lights up as she smiles, leaning in to give you a big kiss on the cheek as a reward!!
• but sometimes annabeth rambles way too much. like, wayyyy too much. i'm talking hours on end. while her voice is soothing and you enjoy lying in her arms while she speaks, it can be a lot at times.
and annabeth only stops talking when she's finished gushing. unless you kiss her first.
although she tries to act like your affection doesn't work on her, complaining with phrases like, "why did you do that," or "you didn't let me finish." but her tone clearly softens. her eyes crinkling at the corners, and soon enough her facade breaks and she can no longer hold back a smile. <33
• you guys still use pinky promises. it doesn't matter if she personally thinks it's trivial, she does it for your sake because she values your belief in it. and if anyone dares to make fun of it, she'd be glaring daggers at them the entire day. if looks could kill, they'd be dead.
(and after you two interlock pinkies she kisses the palm of your hand to seal the deal.)
• annabeth isn't big on PDA, but she definitely steals kisses when people aren't looking.
• annabeth love, love, LOVES reading to you!! especially when there's nobody around and it's just the two of you, your head on her lap as she reads aloud about the wonders of Richardsonian Romanesque style architecture... whatever that is. (but she makes it sound interesting so you don't care.)
• overall 10/10, what a queen.
leo valdez
• he's your portable heater fr. leo keeps you warm by holding you close. it's particularly convenient when you're nestled on his lap or resting against his chest.
• this man can COOK. he mainly cooks food from his heritage because it's a way for him to connect to his roots, but if you ask him to make a particular dish for you, he'll do it, no questions asked. it's a common sight to catch a glimpse of him in the kitchen, diligently chopping ingredients and following the recipe to your favorite dish, getting himself completely covered in smoke and steam by the end of the process, but the result is always delicious so neither of you care.
he'll often call you into the kitchen to taste-test his newest recipe, shoving the dish in your face and urging you to try it like, "here babe, taste it!!" with the brightest smile as he eagerly waits for your feedback. he values your opinions a lot!
• him calling you petnames in spanish >>> omg. among his favorites are "mi amor" (my love), "cariño" (darling), and "corazón" (sweetheart). he usually rotates between those three and it never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks because like, hello??? how could it not??? he's always quick to notice your reaction and can't resist teasing you, playful remarks leaving his lips like, "a little flustered now are we, mi amor?" 🙏🙏🙏
• no matter how long you've been together, leo still flirts with you like it's the first time he's seen you. he'll brace himself against the nearest doorframe and unleash the cheesiest pick-up line known to mankind. despite their predictability, you play along. the game ends when he asks you on a "first date."
• leo spends a lot of time tinkering in his workshop, so whenever boredom sets in, (or if he's just thinking of you) he likes to put his creativity to use by making various small creations with you on his mind. these items range from keychains, to mini jewelry boxes, and even small flowers carved out of metal scraps. (you now have enough to make a bouquet.) your nightstand and shelves are absolutely littered with his handiwork, and you take pride in owning each one of them. <33
• leo's the type of guy that twirls you around while hugging. there's something incredibly spontaneous and thrilling about the experience — just when you think he's only reaching for your hand, he suddenly lifts you off the ground and spins you around, generating a moment of pure joy before gently setting you down once again, and leaning back in for a normal hug.
• he's so whipped for you it's not even funny.
piper mclean
• piper hates being categorized as a typical child of aphrodite due to the expectations and assumptions that come with the title, especially given the reputation of some of her siblings. she's always quick to reassure you that she won't break your heart and that her love for you is truly genuine.
• piper has a soft spot for when you play with her hair; running your fingers through her choppy locks and especially when you braid it. when you gently scratch her scalp while brushing your nails through her hair, she gets lost in her own little world.
• piper isn't afraid to show you off if you're okay with it. like she's in a beautiful, loving relationship, why wouldn't she?? also she's a hand swinger FR. 🙏🙏🙏
• you guys have matching bracelets!! nothing fancy, just a bunch of multi-colored beads on a string, but she loves them so much. sometimes you dedicate dates to making these bracelets just because it's one of her favorite pastimes.
she has one with your name written on the beads, a couple with the titles of the albums you listen to together, as well as ones with your preferred color schemes. just anything to remind her of you. <33
her collection is so big that they now stack up to her arms. maybe it's becoming a problem.
• while piper doesn't like flaunting her wealth, if she sees that you have your eye on something she'll immediately buy it for you. no questions asked. you don't even need to say anything.
maybe you'll bring it up ONCE, not even asking her to buy it, just mentioning you were saving up for a particular item, and the next day it's on your bed with a note from her. when you ask her she'll just be like, "weren't you talking about it?"
• while piper is pretty self-conscious about her singing, she'll do it if you ask her to because she trusts you. if you're having trouble sleeping, she'll lay your head in her lap and sing a short melody, and it works every time. once you drift off, she’ll place a tender kiss on your forehead, (or multiple) and express how much you mean to her, because she can't be this sentimental when you're awake.
she's so in love omg.
hazel levesque
• she's the absolute sweetest girlfriend you could ever ask for! her sweet and loving nature is simply amazing and her love for you knows no bounds. she goes above and beyond to make you feel appreciated and loved in every way possible.
• she definitely loves to go horse-back riding with you. the sensation of the wind blowing through your hair, the warm sun kissing your skin, and the gentle sound of the horse's hooves rhythmically hitting the ground beneath you — it all feels like pure magic, especially since hazel is sharing the moment with you!
• over time, hazel got more comfortable with kisses. the first time you two shared a kiss, she timidly brushed her lips against yours before rapidly withdrawing, her hands instinctively covering her face in embarrassment.
but as time went by and your relationship progressed, she soon began to relax and gain confidence, especially with you relaxing and guiding her through every step of the way. <33
PDA isn't really her thing, but when the two of you are in private, she WILL shower you with kisses on various parts of your body, including your forehead, cheeks, neck, lips, and anywhere else she can reach. i feel like she'd especially love kissing your nose. it's quite endearing to watch her stand on her toes to give you a sweet smooch if you're tall, or simply grab your face and plant a gentle kiss on your nose if you're shorter.
• hazel is doing her best to learn about your interests, but like many things in the today's world, it's a learning process for her. but your help makes her feel more at ease in this modern world. there is still a lot that hazel doesn't fully comprehend, so she values the historical insights you share with her.
• hazel's love languages are acts of service and gift giving. she loves the way your eyes light up when she pampers you. she's also so patient when she helps you with your sword-fighting!! she goes the extra mile to help you master any technique, training with you for hours on end just to see your smile. she patiently guides you through each step, offering advice and encouragement along the way. her joy comes from your progress and happiness.
• okay this is a small thing but she always lets you have the last bite!! whether you're dining out or sharing popcorn at the movies, hazel is always mindful of ensuring that you get the last bite/handful. <33
she's so cute omg.
jason grace
• i think most of us know how touch starved this man is, but he slowly eases into romantic gestures. after a long day of praetor duties, all he wants to do is melt in your arms as you whisper sweet nothings to him.
jason loovvees resting his forehead against yours. it just brings him a sense of comfort and solace, really just your presence itself makes him feel safe. <33
• jason grows to love hand-holding! it starts off with just linking pinkies, but progresses when you take his calloused palms into yours. from the second you two intertwine hands, he's hooked.
he doesn't really know how to initiate hand-holding, so he often makes excuses like, "here, let's compare hand sizes." or "aren't you cold? let me warm up your hands for you." and proceeds to take both of your hands in his without waiting for a response because he just can't ask upfront. :(( (don't worry, he gets over it as the relationship progresses.) his GRIP on your hand is so noticeable LMAO. it's like he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.
he most definitely places kisses on your hand. 🙏🙏🙏 i'm talking regency era jane austen style kisses to your fingertips or palm, looking away with a visible blush. <33
• hear me out, considering his expertise in combat, this man has gotta have some beefy arms okayyy?? like, it's hard not to stare at them. and once he rolls up his sleeves, it's all over FR.
he does it without thinking at first, whether it's tidying up his cabin, strategizing battle plans, or sometimes just mindlessly sighing and rolling up his sleeves when something's on his mind. but he starts to notice how your gaze lingers on his forearms a little too long to be considered "normal", and once he figures it all out, he's having a whole field day with it.
basically, he makes a point to show off his arms around you whenever he could. it drives you crazy, and guess what? he's well aware of it. you know this given that he'll occasionally flash one of his rare jason grace smiles, which later transitions into a grin with a slightly raised lip. 🙏🙏🙏
• he's such a gentleman fr. even little things like holding open doors for you even if it means waiting a few extra moments, offering his sweater when you're cold without hesitation, or fixing up a plate for you during dinner, he's always trying to make life a little easier for you. <33
frank zhang
• frank gives the best bear hugs! (both literally and figuratively.) in the early stages of a relationship, he may come across as a bit awkward. not because he doesn't want to initiate anything, but rather because he's a bit unsure of himself. he takes his time to get to know you and build trust before stepping up his game and expressing his love in more obvious ways. as time passes, he becomes more comfortable and eases into the relationship at a sweet and slow pace, making sure to respect your boundaries and wishes. :((
he loves holding you and making you feel loved, so cuddles aren't uncommon. he takes care to express his affection in a way that makes you feels comfortable and appreciated!! he's always asking you, "do you feel alright?" or "is this fine?" because what may be okay one day might not be okay the next.
typically, he prefers to be the big spoon, but he's is also happy being the little spoon, because he believes that vulnerability and intimacy go both ways in a relationship!!
• frank has the ability to shapeshift into tons of different animals, and he uses this to his advantage while cuddling with you!! imagine waking up to find a cuddly koala bear clinging onto you protectively one day, and then the next day, holding a sweet and adorable tea-cup sized labrador puppy in your hands. the cuddling possibilities are endless!!
• your decision to date frank despite any challenges along the way has had such an impact on his self-esteem. like, seriously!! every word of praise you offer him is treasured, and he adores being around you; in fact, he flourishes in your presence. your encouragement has really made a difference in his life. <33
• he love, love, LOVES holding your hand!! he seems to find every opportunity to intertwine his fingers with yours, and in moments of stress or anxiety, he'll often tap or lightly pull on your hand as if seeking reassurance because your touch brings him a sense of comfort and safety.
• considering that frank's height ranges from 6'3-6'6, you're probably shorter than him. and yeah, he definitely utilizes his height advantage around you.
he loves by approaching you from behind and embracing you, regardless of your own height, and another plus is that he can easily lean down for a kiss!!
his height is particularly convenient around high shelves or objects that may be out of your reach. his height also provides a sense of protection and security for you because he can easily shield you from any harm that may come your way!
overall, 10/10 would date again.
a/n
WHY DO MY FICS KEEP GETTING LONGER AND LONGER LMFAOO.
i wanted to keep this fic relatively short but omg i could not fit everything i wanted in one post. part 2 maybe??
i love writing hc's because they're a lot more casual but my next post will probably be a regular oneshot. :))
xx, val.
#heroes of olympus#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#heroes of olympus x reader#hoo#hoo x reader#pjo x reader#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo#x reader#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson x yn#percy jackson fluff#pjo imagine#riordanverse x reader#annabeth chase x reader#leo valdez x reader#jason grace x reader#piper mclean x reader#frank zhang x reader#hazel levesque x reader
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Dehya + Arlecchino Forgotten!Creator AU
A proper response to @ninjacomix sorry for the wait!
Dehya
You woke up in the deserts of Sumeru when you first arrived in Teyvat, so it’s no surprise that the first people you met were Eremites
Unlike the Traveler, you are not immediately attacked- half because of your divinity subtly making them more docile, and half because you’re covered in sand and dressed in foreign clothes and practically melting under the sun- and yeah, you look too pathetic to rob
They end up taking you back to Aaru Village, and that’s where you end up meeting Dehya.
Well, technically you meet Dehya the day after you arrive, when you rush outside during a sandstorm and spot her fighting monsters
It’s a bit surreal, watching an actual fight like this, and you’re frozen in awe
At least until you notice the Rifthound sneaking up on her
You’re panicking as you lunge forward, feeling something begin to expand inside you, and-
Everything is still
Both the storm and the Rifthounds are frozen in place, and Dehya is looking at you, extremely confused
“What is this?!?” “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!” “YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT!!!!”
Dehya dispatches the Rifthounds quickly, and the sandstorm resumes
And the next day, the both of you set out towards the Akademiya, wanting to figure out what your deal is
(You don’t realize that now the gods are remembering the creator, the Akademiya is Scrambling to find any and all information on you and why they forgot you)
During the journey the both of you grow close, and a few weeks in, the both of you wrapped in a blanket to protect from the chill of a desert night, you turn to her.
“Hey, let’s get married.”
And after choking on her water, she agrees to it
Congratulations! You have a wife!
The Creator, showing up hand in hand with an Eremite is not what an Akademiya scholar expected to see at four in the morning on a random day, but that is what he saw- and he thinks the subsequent panic is very understandable
Before you know it, you and your new wife are sitting in the acting grand sages office as Nahida uses some kind of Archon communication to page the other Archons
It takes about an hour for them to burst through the door
(In that time you’ve taught Alhaitham and Dehya how to play Rock Paper Scissors, Go Fish, Uno, and you’re in the middle of teaching them slapjack. Alhaithams hands are suspiciously red and Dehya is smirking)
They’re instantly fretting over you, apologizing for forgetting you and generally praising you, completely overwhelming until Dehya pulls you away
“Hey! Who are you supposed to be!” It’s Venti, disappointed that his god has been taken from him
“That’s my wife!” You state proudly.
And then everything clicks
“Wait, I’m a god?”
The room explodes in noise, but Dehya’s hand never leaves yours
Arlecchino
When it comes to Arlecchino, instead of taking you to Aaru Village, you ask them to take you to the border of Fontaine
You’ve only made it to the end of Sumeru in the Archon Quests- maybe if you head to Fontaine now, you’ll get to see the Archon Quest in person!
It’s only once you’ve taken the Aquabus to the Court of Fontaine that you realize you do not have a single mora on your person.
It’s after a day of exploring that you end up near the sea, and after being startled by a giant crab appearing from nowhere (It was Very Scary I promise) you end up tumbling into the water, you’re trapped under, and-
Wait… you can still breathe!
You light up with excitement, diving deeper, and that begins your life as a diver.
You end up becoming a collector, selling cool shells and oddities to anyone in the Court who’s willing to buy them (You’ve built up a pretty good rapport with the supply manager of Chiori’s Boutique)
It’s also underwater that you discover you’re the creator- finding an old abandoned temple with murals of a god that look just like you, helping you make sense of the power beneath your skin
But hey, if no one else was gonna bring it up, you wouldn’t either
And it’s underwater that you end up meeting your first Fatui member: Freminet
He was surprised when he first saw you swimming around- but now he’s grown pretty accustomed to you, and sometimes you guys even interact
Admittedly, sound doesn’t travel well underwater, so most of your communication is via charades, but the two of you end up growing close
Freminet shows you cool diving spots, you collect valuables from the ocean floor together, swim together in blissful silence, and play with all the friendly ocean animals you seem to attract
It only takes about a month for Freminet to begin mentally referring to you as mother (This boy is starved of a parental figure)
And after that it only takes a week before he slips up
He’s waiting in Father’s office, looking around as he waits for him to arrive
It’s pretty sparsely decorated- but there are a few ornaments still left around.
“Mother would like this…” Freminet muses, looking at a small model boat, delicate and intricately carved.
A flash of heat at his back. “… What did you just say?”
After a very long and frantic explanation, and a slightly shorter lecture on stranger danger, Arlecchino demands to meet you.
You first meet the harbinger after a day diving with Freminet, and he shoots you an apologetic look as you both surface to find a harbinger on the shore
And then you make eye contact
Your thoughts: That is a harbinger. From the Fatui. Huh. I’m going to pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino’s thoughts: That is the Creator that The Tsaritsa told me to look out for. They have the exact same appearance. I will pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino asks you to tea to get to know you better, and it devolves from there.
At your tea party, she introduces herself as a completely normal orphanage matron, and you’re polite enough to not point out that her brooch is a tiny Fatui emblem
You introduce yourself as a normal diver and she ignores the fact that your spoon has been stirring sugar into your tea without you even touching it
Your relationship continues in a similar fashion, with the both of you pretending to be a completely normal couple
After a few months, when both of you are getting married, you both ignore the oddities of your guests
“Ah, darling, the Fatui are here.” “Oh yes, they sponsor my orphanage, how polite of them to come.”
“Angel, Morax is here.” “Huh. Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m glad he could make it.”
The both of you continue with intense purposeful ignorance
Venti: Your grace, do you really want to marry the harbinger? Is she threatening you?
You: What harbinger? I’m marrying a completely normal and totally average orphanage owner. So kind and generous she is.
Arlecchino, in the background, kicking Childe for trying to start a fight at her wedding, pausing to turn and wave: Hello.
Also Freminet is the flower girl
#genshin sagau#sagau#sagau genshin#sagau x reader#sagau forgotten!creator au#genshin impact sagau#sagau cult au#Sagau forgotten!creator au#sagau Dehya#Sagau Arlecchino#Sorry if my writing is inconsistent I won’t fix it#forgotten!creator au
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OBSESSED: SHOKO feat THE BOYS (FINALE)
A/N: Well, well, well. Oh how the tables have turned, dear reader. It’s not so easy — juggling two special grades and their personal physician��is it?
S/N: This is it. The pièce de résistance. I was…this is…NO ONE LOOK AT ME AFTER YOU READ THIS. No idea the word count. Long af, though.
C/W:….the trio is their own content warning lol. Mature. 18+, MDNI.
Part I, Part II.
Is this…a dream?
This must be what it feels like to hear Domain Expansion, Infinite Void.
White static coats Shoko’s brain. She’s breathing underwater. Thinking in molasses.
It’s a miracle her legs are working — they’re currently trailing behind you and the boys, back to her apartment.
Her eyes are working, too — they’re attached to the dress rippling and bouncing off your ass. Your hips are a hypnotic pendulum. Swinging back and forth.
Back and forth.
The tailwind from your strut is a bad actor.
Every so often teasing your cotton panties that won the lottery. Kissing up against your pretty petals. Riding along the plump curve of your mounds. Accentuating the intoxicating swell of your hips.
It’s paralyzing.
You are paralyzing.
Satoru’s hand is curled around the back of your neck. His azure glow is so pristine, so bright it refracts off your gorgeous cheekbones. Dampening his Limitless and intensifying his Six Eyes.
Because the first to taste a meal is usually one’s eyes…right?
Shoko can nearly hear the depravity ringing between Satoru’s ears.
Then there’s Suguru.
An arm is draped around your waist, capturing and releasing the hem of your dress every few seconds. Mindless movements. His sniper-like gaze focused on the apartment door at the end of the hall.
Cool. Calm. Collected.
One would think, if you don’t know Suguru well enough.
His normally, perfectly repressed cursed energy surrounds him. Flickering into the air like campfire embers just waiting for the next gust of wind to erupt. Amethyst and graphite swarm around her best friend — the only indicator of his disintegrating self-control.
20 steps left until she is expected to produce door keys. The only thing standing between everyone and you.
This is it.
This is the moment. The one chance you get at ‘doing it right this time.’
15 steps.
There are no more wishes granted. No more genies stuffed into bottles, or whatever. This is it.
10 steps.
Get your shit together, Ieiri.
7.
Do not squander this on the sidelines.
3.
Shoko wires around the three of you. Stepping ahead to slot the frivolous piece of aluminum standing between her and her wet dream.
1.
The apartment door flies open. Satoru’s hand moves on autopilot — deepening his grip around your neck.
His conscious brain recedes. Triple distilled, unadulterated need moves in like a tropical storm.
Silky strands of your hair plaited in his fingers.
Wide, warm eyes locked into his.
Tiny slit in those pouty, siren lips of yours.
He will dismantle you. Piece by fucking piece.
Until you’re a babbling, sobbing brook beneath his fingers. Apologizing for being such a cocktease.
“Satoru…?”
There’s a change in your voice.
Fear? Nerves?
Prey finally realizing who is next on the menu?
Satoru is staring. Fully aware of how disarming his eyes can be. Born with godlike vision and somehow the only thing he can see in the room is you.
His greed is a threat to National Security. DEFCON Level 1.
His mouth ghosts yours. Barely registering Suguru encasing you from behind. Trailing his palms along your thighs.
“Safe word, princess.” Satoru maps every ridge, every teeth indent on that gorgeous bottom lip.
“For when you need to tap out.” Suguru augments Satoru’s command. Gentle nip at the tip of your ear and you moan. Bitten back and clipped.
“Such pretty sounds,” Shoko’s voice is distant. Breathy. Coated in Cabernet.
“I..don’t—”
Satoru slices your protest in half. Rolling your bottom lip under his teeth. Biting and licking his way across your pout. At the same time Suguru drops his mouth to your pulse point.
“Don’t what, sweetheart?” Suguru murmurs into your neck. A filthy fucking whine escapes your lips and Satoru’s fingers go to your nipple.
Hard. Pert and neglected. Desperate for attention.
Just like you.
The way you’re panting into Satoru’s mouth. Listless and loose, bending into Suguru’s presence behind you.
“He gave you an order, baby.” Suguru’s smile is so tender. Almost torturous against your oversensitive skin.
“Don’t…ah..don’t need a safe word.”
A weak declaration against Satoru’s kiss. Earning yourself a sharp twist of your sensitive buds. And gifting him a kitten squeal that makes his cock twitch.
“Ohhhh Suguru, Shoko. We have a brat on our hands.” He muses, hovering his lips over yours. Satoru pets the steel rod between his legs. Already dewy with his arousal.
You are so beautiful, trying to resist their coordinated touch. The sound of Suguru’s large hand palming your ass reverberates throughout the room.
“I’ll teach her some manners.”
Suguru’s voice trails down your spine. Slow and sickly sweet. Like maple sap dripping down tree bark mid spring. He caresses the hot sting from his spanking.
“I—I have manners.” Voice as small as your frame engulfed between the 6’3 counterparts.
“I won’t ask again, princess.” Satoru tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. And Suguru continues sucking kisses into your neck, marking his territory.
“Uh..mmm..god, S—“ Your eyes flutter closed. An earnest attempt to stay present. And not settle into the fuzzy, warm submission they are baiting you into.
“Safe word, now.”
“B—um. Blue? Blue.” Your resolve is about as rigid as cotton.
“Blue?”
“Well that’s not fair.”
Shoko and Suguru’s incredulous reactions intertwine with Satoru’s smug chuckle. A dusty rose high on your cheeks.
You know why you chose Blue. Everyone else does, too.
“Blue, huh?” Satoru presses a soft kiss on your lips.
“To match me? Noted, baby.”
Shoko melts into her couch. Her heartbeat rattles around her skull. With short, ineffective breaths that taste like full bodied red wine. Wet heat surges around her lace thong.
The way you’re writhing between her best friends’ hands is sinful.
Gazing up at Satoru like he is Vincent Van Gogh and the Starry Night above you is the product of his paintbrush.
Incoherent as if Suguru’s fingers put the Sun to bed. Whimpering his name like a prayer.
Adorable, girl.
God isn’t going to save you here.
The pads of Shoko’s cool fingers nearly sizzle against her puffy pleasure point. Slick coating her with just one, two, three long stripes against her sticky folds.
“God...fuck..bring her to me.” The grit in Shoko’s tone scrapes along her voice box. Matching the aggressive pace of her fingers against her needy cunt.
The boys lock gazes with their third. Cavalier smile tugging against Satoru’s lips. Suguru’s brow touches his hairline.
Ladies, first.
“You heard her.” Satoru snakes your arms around his neck and hoists you around his waist in one fluid motion.
“S—sato—“ He bullies his tongue back into your mouth. No more protesting, gorgeous.
Slow steps towards Shoko, so he can drink from your well. A sweet, delectable spell dripping from your lips. And if Satoru doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning after eating your forbidden fruit, then so be it.
Suguru lets himself watch you from a short distance.
His hand can’t stop rubbing his cock. Shamelessly tugging his heavy rod. Burning your little expressions into his mind’s safe. The way your eyebrows come together at the center whenever Satoru bites your bottom lip. Your desperate grabs for air against his relentless kiss.
“Hi, pretty.” Shoko drawls the moment Satoru settles you down on her lap. Her thigh digs into your soaked, gummy core. Glazing her skin with your drool.
“Hi, Sho.” Still panting from Satoru’s embrace. So fragile. A harsh breeze could shatter you to stardust. And Shoko pulsates around nothing.
One hand is firm on your hip. The other tracing mindless shapes on your chest. Leaving a poetic cascade of goosebumps in her wake.
Reflexively, you go to caress Shoko’s shoulders only to be caught by Satoru’s enormous grip. Whipping both of your wrists behind your back. While his other hand toys with the erection straining against his pants.
“She didn’t give you permission to touch, did she princess?” He drops his tone into the shell of your ear.
“Oh, I—“
“Manners, gorgeous.” A gentle reminder in between smearing kisses along your neck. Shoko hooks her index finger along your neckline. One tug and your mouth-watering tits come into full view.
“Fucking, hell.”
“God, baby.”
“Perfect…fucking perfect.”
Satoru, Suguru and Shoko’s praises crash into one another. God took his time with you. Sculpting a fucking masterpiece.
To be praised.
To be worshipped.
To be taken.
Used.
Filled.
“Shoko. I want to hear her.”
Suguru’s command is guttural. Fist snug around the base of his cock. Shameless about the tears of precum falling down his shaft.
Shoko’s fingers work their way down to your pulsing clit. You preen into her touch. Pretty, tiny gasps against her cheek.
“Let it out, baby.” Shoko coos into your ear. Thumbing little circles around your clit.
You bury your face into her neck. Delicious ache swelling between your legs. Grinding along her slender thigh. Honey seeping around your clothed cunt.
“S—sho, mmnngh..fuck..” Desperation fans Shoko’s neck. Bucking your hips with your hands restrained.
“There she is.”
Suguru’s fist slams to his hilt. Now close enough to cup your perky mound. Rippling and bouncing with every jolt. Feathering his finger over your pebbled bud.
The sudden touch and velvet voice above you drags your gaze upward.
And Suguru nearly cums in his hand right then and there.
Misty eyes, drool covered lips. Breathy pants. Angelic features rewritten by lust.
“Suguru?”
“Such a good girl. Keep fucking her thigh like that, baby.”
Throaty praise in return. Suguru rips his hand away from his angry length. Staving off his finish.
Not yet.
They’re not remotely close to being done with you yet.
“She’s so responsive.” Satoru chimes in. Releasing his grip on your wrists.
Your hands fly to Shoko’s face. Melding your mouth with hers. Leaking precious sounds, from your lips and your sopping wet core. His hand kneads your neglected breast, pinching your nipple every so often.
Satoru and Suguru palming at your tits. Shoko fucking your mouth with her tongue. You humping Shoko’s leg like a dog in heat.
It’s too much.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashes into your groin. You nestle into the crook of her neck. Grasping at her thick, brunette locks.
“S-sho, I’m close, I’m—mmgh..”
“It’s okay pretty,” Shoko husks. Her thumb at a perfect rhythm and pressure.
“You can cum, baby.” Suguru rasps, tugging at your nipple at the same time Satoru smacks the supple flesh he was petting.
“Oh fuck oh fuck—“
The delicious sting from their touches sends you over the edge. And the wire seated deep in your stomach snaps. Hips stuttering to an abrupt stop.
The room stills. Satoru, Suguru and Shoko studying your micro movements through your peak. So quiet that the walls have to lean in to hear you and your lovers breathing.
Six eyes laser into your body. Everyone’s appetite for you simultaneously tripling.
Satoru swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Subconsciously aware of the pool of saliva forming. His manhood mirroring the trail of drool running down his mouth.
He’s always been a fan of dessert.
“I need to taste you.”
“And I need a front row seat.” Shoko nibbles at your cheek.
Satoru lifts and spins you around on Shoko’s lap in a matter of seconds. You, still gummy and compliant from your orgasm spread your legs weakly over Shoko. Earning you a chorus of praise from your lust-drunk lovers.
He drops to his knees. His blushing, weeping tip in hand. Pushing your sodden panties to the side. While Shoko cradles your thigh in her hand, holding you open for her best friend.
Your rose blooms in front of him. Dewy with your slick. Candied scent holding all of Satoru’s senses hostage.
“Look at how pretty, she is.” He breezes against your swollen pearl. Your petals quiver, and his dick leaks.
“S—Satoru..please.”
Satoru’s head is spinning. Entirely drunk off of the sight of you like this. Choking back his own pathetic groans.
His tongue licks a long stripe up your ripe folds. And your taste pollenates his mind for an eternity. An addict with his chosen vice.
Your hands magnet to his snowy halo. The melody you sing from his kisses and licks could sink any ship. Echoing in Satoru’s and Shoko’s groin.
Shoko is in a complete haze. Molesting herself numb at the way you undulate against Satoru’s eager tongue. Pitiful little mewls that are worthy of a platinum record.
“Feeling good, gorgeous?” Shoko eggs you on. Quickly sinking into her own threatened orgasm.
“Y—yes..mmgh so..god..” Paper thin squeals from your lips.
Crystals line your eyes in response to Satoru’s tongue fucking in and out of your pussy. Suckling your clit. Figures of 8, and 8 and 8 again until your mind is mush.
Except Suguru refuses to let you get lost at Satoru’s sea. He grips a handful of your hair, whipping your head in his direction.
Both you and Shoko tilt up to see Suguru’s driveling manhood at your eye level. Veiny, heavy. So clearly abused by his hand. Volcanic eruption in his hooded gaze.
“Hands on my cock, baby.”
Barely above a whisper, but somehow your body recognizes his authority.
And you seem genuinely shocked by your visceral obedience. Immediate acquiescence to Surguru’s will.
An approving grin teases Suguru’s lips. Your hands are comically small wrapped around his length.
God, he could split you in half.
Heavy eyelids from Satoru’s agonizing touch, you’re mystical. Gazing into Suguru’s eyes like his soul is nothing but an appetizer. Yours to swallow, digest, play with.
“Ask nicely.” Suguru grunts, as your eyes rake over his leaky cockhead. Longing for a taste.
Satoru and Shoko come to a hush. Her fingers slow. Satoru forces himself off of your folds. Somehow knowing the next words to roll off your tongue will shift their brain chemistry, permanently.
Palatial lashes fan your utterly fucked-out gaze. Swollen lips millimeters away from Suguru’s blunt tip.
“May I suck your cock, please?”
Filthy-nasty-dirty-fucking-vulgar noises fill the room, while you swirl Suguru’s cum covered head around your tongue.
“Fuck. Your lips baby.” He hisses, his hips piston into your pretty, accepting mouth.
“So messy, princess.” Satoru murmurs into your swollen cunt, slipping his fingers past your tight ringlet.
Beautiful gurgles around Suguru’s shaft. Crystalline streams of spit glazing your puffy tits.
You buck into Satoru at a similar, haphazard pace that he strokes his thick rod. Shoko sinks her teeth into your shoulder.
“G-gonna c..gonna—“ high pitched, broken warnings spill from your lips. Just as a blinding wave of electricity surges down Shoko’s legs — curling her pedicure inward.
“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”
Suguru’s decadent baritone sends both you and Shoko over the hot edge. A cacophony of huffs and whines, coating the walls in your shared ecstasy. Spraying your essence all over Satoru’s face.
He’s slow to stand. Savoring remnants of your peak. He and Suguru exchange sordid glances. Sharing the same thought.
Pretty little doll.
Loose limbed and spent in Shoko’s lap. Hair mused. So deeply entrenched into sub space you’ll need to sleep it off of to come to your senses.
A work of art, you are.
But not quite broken, yet.
“It’s our turn now, little one.” Deep and measured. Thick with want. Suguru lifts you by your arms off of Shoko’s lap.
His back lays flush against the couch. You straddle his muscular lap. Satoru stands directly behind you.
Suguru’s manhood is rigid. You’d have to impale yourself on him to get any closer. Similarly, Satoru’s length makes itself very present along the curve of your spine.
“Look at me.” Satoru’s throaty demand comes from above your head.
Obedience is the only language you can currently speak, so you tilt back. Soaking in the celestial boy behind you. Closer to God than Man, from this vantage point.
“You want to taste yourself, baby?”
A rhetorical question from Satoru, but you still bobble your head in an eager yes.
“Such a desperate little puppy, aren’t you?” Suguru mocks you, taking one of your puffy nipples into his mouth.
“She is.”
Satoru affirms in between spearing your mouth with his warm muscle. Kissing the breath directly from your lungs until you’re air hungry and clawing at his neck. Leaving red streaks on his pale skin.
Shoko has since poured herself another glass of red wine. Settling herself on the long arm of her couch.
‘Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything they do to you in the the most permanent part of her mind.’
Dèjá Vu.
But this lifetime? This reiteration of events? It’s fucking sublime.
Shoko’s lips curl into a cheshire smile against the rim of her glass. Hedonistic on every single level known to man and she wouldn’t have it any another way.
Her eyes flicker down to where Suguru’s hands are eclipsing your hips. And Satoru’s hands are cradled into the small of your waist. Hovering you over Suguru’s cock. The weapon of mass destruction that it is.
“Suguru…Suguru it won’t…” Beautiful little panic ascending in pitch.
“It won’t, what baby?” He teases. Eyes fixed on you like the apex predator he is.
Crimson erupts from the tip of your nose to the tips of your ears. Fluttering away from his quicksand gaze.
“What’s the matter, pretty? Don’t tell me you think you can’t handle—“
“I can handle it—I can…handle it.” You cut Satoru’s taunt down, convincing absolutely no one in the room— including yourself.
But the shred of pride you have left comes forward. Bracing your hands on Suguru’s flexed shoulders. Digging little crescent moons into his olive skin.
He can barely bite back the groan in his throat when your wet heat drags along his cockhead.
Twitching around your opening.
Feigning for entry.
“Go ahead, little one.”
“You can do it, baby.”
“Oh FUCK..GOD.” Your volume is nothing in comparison to the fire incinerating your plush walls. Stretching your womanhood in a way that’s ungodly.
Suguru is blinding.
Flashing lights. Black spots in the visual field. Floaters everywhere kind of blinding. The prior encouragement from your lovers did nothing to soften his blow.
Knowing this would be the result of you trying to work his inhuman length inside yourself, Suguru buries himself in one side of your neck. Satoru mirrors his action on the other side.
Gentle adoration. Tender kisses. Light caresses to dull the pain.
“Such a good girl.”
“I knew you could take it, princess.”
“You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl.”
Suguru rocks his hips in a slow, dreamy pace. Back and forth. Encouraging your body to reset around him. And the pressure. The delicious fucking fullness from his cock is mind numbing.
“R—ready.”
Barely loud enough to register. But Suguru could hear your red blood cells colliding with one another in your veins if you keep him next to you long enough.
“Eyes on me when I’m inside you, sweetheart.”
“Yes sir.”
The smile on his lips is no where near as tantalizing as the smile in his crushed velvet eyes.
And for a moment that is going to be on cinematic repeat in everyone’s mind — Suguru thrusts into you like a man trying to repopulate earth. Never once letting you break his eye-contact.
Melodic sounds of bodies smacking together ring throughout the room. Beautiful ripples of flesh, like soft waves during low tide. Your wet sex colliding with his. Him locking you into place because nothing else exists at this moment.
Both Satoru and Shoko’s jaws are slack. Satoru can’t even bring himself to stroke his length thrashing wildly in his hands.
This is hypnotizing.
A motion picture worthy of an Oscar.
You can feel Suguru recreating the shape of your soul. With each thrust. Deliberate. Deep. Ensuring that he will be a part of you, permanently.
“God, ngh Su—fuck..purple..” unintelligible words, incoherent sounds. You’re grasping at rescue from this pleasure.
“Hah..” Suguru’s serrated breaths kiss your lips. “Try again.”
“Suguru, please. I’m cu—I’m pink..pink.”
“Wrong color, princess.” Satoru’s husks above you. Tears of his thick cum streaming steady down his shaft.
Suguru’s bucks into you relentlessly now. Chasing the high you both are riding. Shredding what consciousness you have left. Not that you wanted it, not that you needed it.
“Fuck.”
Suguru’s hips come to a screeching halt. Floating over Shoko’s cushion. Painting your warm walls with his seed. With you filling his lap with your dew. Delirious, choppy intakes of air between your lips and his.
Momentarily forgetting your audience, you instinctively fall into his chest. Every single muscle in your body, suddenly without tone.
Satoru’s mouth is ajar.
Still not completely comprehending the fact that he just came — hands free — watching his best friend rail the conscious mind out of you.
“Blanket, Satoru.” Shoko quietly nudges from her position on the couch.
She can’t blame him for being stunned in place. Her mind is still reeling at the dessert her eyes just feasted on.
“Come here, baby.” Suguru murmurs. Working himself out of you, while Satoru drapes you in Shoko’s throw.
“Thank you.” A tiny chuckle escapes your lips. Cozying into Suguru’s arms. They should be proud of your manners.
And as if you said your cheeky thought out loud, your three lovers break into soft laughter.
“Wait here.” Satoru presses a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. Disappearing into Shoko’s bathroom a moment after.
A small sigh of relief tumbles out of her when she hears the familiar sound of bath water running.
Satoru must’ve done this before. Once or twice.
Suguru, too.
Judging by the way he’s whispering sweet affirmations in your ear. Lulling you to sleep. In his warm, safe embrace.
She’s never seen her friend like this.
“Girls! Bath time!” Satoru beckons from the bathroom.
His voice rustles you out of your post coital daze. Nestling deeper into the crook of Suguru’s neck. Shoko watches the way his eyes rest on your flushed face; stroking his hand along your arm. Intermittently pressing kisses along your hairline.
An enchanting, glass doll they were so eager to shatter just a moment ago.
“Ready, baby?”
Suguru murmurs into your ear. And Shoko just knows he’s hoping for a no. Silently praying for more time with you, pliant in his arms like this.
“Mmhm.” Your puffy lips curl up into a sleepy smile. Glossy-eyed, when you finally pull your heavy lids open.
Suguru’s breath catches in his throat.
Shoko’s heart rattles around its bony cage.
How do you do this?
How do you make it so easy to trip and fall so hopelessly in love with you with a bat of an eyelash?
“…I get it guys, but the water will get cold. And that would be a shame. Because this bath is, perfect.”
Satoru teases from the bedroom doorway. Startling Shoko and Suguru out of the trance you unintentionally put them in.
“You don’t have to carry me!” A half-protest bubbles from your lips when Suguru stands with you wrapped up in Shoko’s favorite blanket.
“Shhh, let me do this sweet girl.” He coos, for your ears only. Navigating around Satoru’s lean stature.
Shoko follows closely behind him, itching for her alone time with you.
“You’re going to let her feet touch the ground, Suguru?!”
Her sarcasm is followed by light-hearted laughter settling around your bodies.
The four of you in tandem like a world class orchestra. Shoko is already lamenting waking up from this dream.
“Not if I can help it.” Suguru sets you down on the kitchen sink. Nudging enough space for his muscular hips between your legs.
He cradles your chin in his hand. Taking as many butterfly kisses as you’ll allow.
“Mmm, goodnight, Suguru.”
His name rolls sweet and soft off of your tongue. Like a dark chocolate truffle, and suddenly Shoko wishes her name was Suguru.
Satoru does too. Judging by the way he yanks his counterpart away from you. His eyes caress your face before his hand does.
“How are you feeling, princess?”
Hushed and saccharine. Doting. As if a decibel too loud is akin to Hollow Purple. Circling his fingers around your thighs.
How foreign.
Shoko can almost taste Satoru’s concern. Attentive in a way that’s inconceivable.
From her vantage point, she watches you ensnare Satoru in those big, helpless doe eyes. Tempting him to fuck the living daylight out of you (again) but also handle you like a butterfly with a broken wing.
“Just a bit worn out, pretty boy.” Said with a dreamy little laugh. And Satoru would chase your voice into the clouds if he could.
He drapes your arms around his neck and you’re putty in his hands.
“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He grazes the corner of your lips with his. A dull, insistent ache welling between Shoko’s legs.
You’re irresistible like this.
“Unless you want us to wear you out, again.”
“Satoru!” Your tiny, ineffectual fists slam against Satoru’s pecs. Making the trio even more fond of you.
Their muse.
“Alright boys, I can take it from here.”
Unhurried but finite, Shoko shoos her best friends out of the bathroom. Not before Satoru can steal one last kiss from your swollen lips.
In a matter of minutes Shoko is settled in a sea of warm, eucalyptus bubbles. The light sheen of essential oil grazing her skin, still glimmering with remnants of love-making.
Her eyes ride the dips and swells of your alluring lines.
Balmy skin decorated with lust-drunk imprints from Satoru, Suguru and herself. Hand prints. Tiny crescent moons from fingernails. Ellipses of bite marks. A kaleidoscope of red, blue, deep purple. Living, breathing residue of the desperation — the need — you so easily draw from them.
“Such a pretty girl.”
You flush under Shoko’s praise. Newly stroked desire bubbling in the back of her throat. You’re so full of averted gazes and warmed cheeks. Twiddling your thumbs. Tentatively shifting a few paces away from the bathtub.
So shy, now. It’s adorable.
“Come here, baby.” Shoko curls her fingers inward.
“Okay.” Your response high and thin. Feet moving without resistance.
Obedient little doll.
Shoko’s wet dreams couldn’t even come up with a vision this decadent. You’re an oil painting. Soft on the hands, even softer on the eyes.
You nestle in the warm waters between Shokos legs. Her nipples pebble against your supple flesh. Resting the back of your head on her chest. A lock-in-key fit.
Comfortable, serene quiet sheaths the room around you. And Shoko is soaring.
“I like you like this.” She presses a small kiss against your temple.
“Like what?” You whisper.
Shoko’s hands travel up your navel, cupping your sensitive tits. You arch into her touch. Kitten mewls escape you. So responsive.
“Soft.” Your nipples stiffen between her thumb and index finger.
“Vulnerable…a little broken.” Shoko continues. Catching your needy gaze. Pupils blown to full moons. She hovers her lips over yours. Already parted, hanging open. Ready to receive.
“Shoko.”
Such a beautiful, pitiful little whine. Tilting your chin up, chasing Shoko’s lips. But she maintains the minimal distance. Instead, kneading your mounds. Drawing a gorgeous melody of whimpers; squirming beneath her ministrations.
“I like being the one to put your pieces back together,” Shoko teases, dropping her tone. And you draw her in like a moth to flame.
Shoko’s lips slot into yours with ease. Puzzle pieces meant to fit. She swipes her tongue over yours. Nibbles along your puffy bottom lip.
You’re delicious.
And panting, when Shoko finally pulls away. Aurora borealis in your eyes. Sparkling. Expansive.
And even though you are putty in her hands right now. Docile and pliant, hanging on every brush of a finger, every kiss. Shoko is falling.
Free falling.
Without a safety stop in sight.
#jjk fanfic#sashisu#sashisu x reader#shoko x you#shoko ieri x reader#shoko smut#shoko fluff#poly satosugu#gojo x reader x geto#suguru geto smut#gojo smut#gojo fluff#geto smut#geto fluff#geto x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk shoko#jjk satoru#jjk gojo#jjk suguru#suguru smut#gojo satoru x reader#shoko ieiri#satoru gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#suguru geto#shoko x reader
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Marvel Eating Random Things
I love allllllllll the Billy eating random things as Marvel posts/headcanons. I don’t know why. I just love it. I love unhinged Marvel soooo much. But what if we took it one step further and had Marvel eat anything, including living creatures. Also, I’m gonna connect this to the Marvel being a Good Cook post. In that post, he’s just a good cook basically.
Flash: *passed out on the floor of the kitchen in a hypoglycemic coma*
Marvel: *walks into the kitchen and stops dead in his tracks* “Wally?” *walks over and prods him with his shoe* “Are you dead?” *kneels down to sniff him* “Can I eat you?”
Flash: *groans*
Marvel: *stands up* “Oh, thank the gods.” *picks Wally up to take him to the medbay* “Come on, bud. Let’s see if we can fix you up.”
A little bit later…
Flash: *on a medical cot and wakes up*
Marvel: *nearby, doing a crossword puzzle*
Flash: *sees Marvel* “Cap?”
Marvel: “Yes?” *fills in one of the words on the puzzle*
Flash: “Did you… Did you ask if you could eat me?”
Marvel: “Nope.”
Flash: “Yeah, that’s what I thought. It’s just I swear I heard you say something like that.” *sits up, stomach rumbling*
Marvel: “You were pretty knocked out, man. I don’t remember saying that.” *puts crossword down* “Why don’t we get something to eat? Like chili dogs or burgers or something?”
Flash: “Sounds great.” *gets off the cot so they can head to the zetas*
He gaslit, gatekeeped, and girlbossed. He’s also done this to multiple leaguers by the way. One of them was Batman who now has a recording of Billy asking if he could eat him. Bruce listened to it a solid ten times because in this AU, he knows next to nothing about Marvel, and now, because of this recording, he’s wondering if Marvel is, or was even human.
Then, there was the time him and Wonder Woman went together to wrangle some demons back into Tartarus. Unfortunately, one of the demons died during the process and didn’t make it back into the gates. So, now Diana and Billy were stuck with a demon corpse.
Diana: *looking at the corpse* “What should we do with it?”
Marvel: *also looking at the corpse* “Hmm… I have an idea.”
Diana: “Oh? Could you sha-” *now sees Marvel in his little lightning bolt apron and chef hat* “Why’re you dressed like that?”
Marvel: “I like to get into it.” *starts pulling salt, pepper, paprika, Goya Adobo, basically a bunch of seasonings out of his pocket dimension*
Diana: “Cap…? Cap. You can’t seriously be suggesting we eat the demon?”
Marvel: “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just politely telling you that it’s one, delicious, and two also delicious.” *conjures up a giant, demon-sized, floating frying pan from nowhere with a fire underneath it*
Diana: *watches as Marvel picks the demon up, puts it in the pan, and starts seasoning*
She does end up eating some of the demon later with Marvel. Though she swore she would “never do it again.” But, when she heard Marvel tell her of a demon that tastes like hard candy when you mix its body with a certain magical herb, she wouldn’t admit it, but she had second thoughts. Those second thoughts amped up when he told her they were really good to eat with ice cream.
Then, there was the time with Aquaman. He came over to Atlantis because he wanted to see Aquaman’s sea creatures. His school had a field trip to the aquarium and he not only did he not have an adult to sign the permission slip, he also didn’t have enough money to pay the fare. Thankfully, Billy’s Marvel form didn’t need to breathe so he could go underwater just fine. Meanwhile, Arthur was just happy to yap about the sea creatures to and listen intently and ask questions and all that. Unfortunately, some mermaids swam up and decided to ruin their fun. Now, you see, they were sort of fighting them in an underwater cave and all the fighting caused a piece of rubble to come loose and fall on one of the mermaids, killing her. This caused the rest of them to run.
Aquaman: “Alright, back to the tour.” *sees Marvel casually sawing off the mermaid’s tail* “What’re you doing, man?”
Marvel: “I’m gonna eat this later.” *holds the mermaid tail up, shaking it a little*
Aquaman: “Oh. Cool. Can I have some?”
Marvel: “Sure, I can make it when our tours done.” *puts the mermaid tail in his pocket dimension*
Aquaman: “Nice, I’ll bring some Atlantean mead.”
Later…
Marvel and Aquaman: *both munching on mermaid tail*
Aquaman: “This really good!” *grabs some mead to drink down his mouthful of fish*
Marvel: “Thanks.” *munches on fish* “You know, I was surprised you wanted to eat this.”
Aquaman: “Why?”
Marvel: “You can talk to fish right? So, if you were to go to an aquarium, wouldn’t you hear some fish screaming to be let out or something?”
Aquaman: “Geez, I haven’t been to an aquarium since I was a kid.” *sounding nostalgic* “But nah, they normally just chill.”
Marvel: “I haven’t been to one ever. And really? Huh.” *munches on fish more* “But I guess what I’m really asking is if you’re sensitive about eating fish or not.”
Aquaman: “Nah, not really. In this great big sea, what did you think the main source of protein was? Plus, this is mermaid, it’s only technically fish.”
Marvel: *shrugs* “So is that a no? You don’t care about eating fish?”
Aquaman: *nods head as he drinks more mead* “It’s a no.”
Marvel: “Sweet! Cause I have a bunch of fish recipes I wanna try out.”
About an hour after this, Marvel had to help Aquaman home since the Atlantean challenged him to a drinking contest, not knowing the Captain couldn’t get drunk. Mera had a brow raised at Billy judgmentally the entire time he explained why he came home with her husband black out drunk.
#billy batson#captain marvel dc#dc captain marvel#shazam#fawcett#fawcett city#fawcett comics#diana prince#wonder woman#aquaman#arthur curry#batman#bruce wayne#the flash#wally west
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.
Warnings: Fluff, language
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.
He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.
The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.
Jayden,
It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.
Violet,
You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.
Oliver,
Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.
Lt. Bradley Bradshaw
The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.
After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.
The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.
I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.
Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.
--------------------------
You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.
As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.
"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.
I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.
Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.
When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"
"The president!"
"My grandma!"
"My Cocker Spaniel!"
"Oliver's grandma!"
You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"
And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.
You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.
And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.
"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.
Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.
"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."
You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.
As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.
Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,
We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.
I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.
You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.
But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.
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It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.
Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.
He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.
But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.
The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."
"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"
Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.
He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.
"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."
After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.
If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.
I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.
It was nice hearing from you.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?
"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.
-----------------------------
You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.
The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.
You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.
When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.
"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"
You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"
It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.
"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."
Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.
"Is that really his jet?"
"Is that the throttle?"
"What do all the buttons do?"
"Was this right before he flew it?"
Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.
"His helmet is so cool!"
"It says Rooster!"
"That's his call sign!"
"Red is my favorite color!"
You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."
You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"
You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."
Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.
Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.
-------------------------
This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfiction#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#yours truly bradley bradshaw
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ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
summary: you're staying at your best friend's house, the sturniolos, for the weekend, until one night you can't sleep, so you decide to go for a dip in the hot tub.. but matt's already there.
contains: smut, virgin!matt, teasing, hot tub sex, semi-public?
----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------
i roll over in bed, the clock on the wall reads, 11:57pm. i've been lying here for 3 hours with my eyes shut, but im too energised, i mean, the sturniolos and i have had a crazy few days, resulting in me staying the weekend.
i hoist myself up out of bed, flicking on the lamp as i dig through my tote bag for a small bikini, afterall its almost midnight, none of them would be in the hot tub at this time.
i open my bedroom door, tiptoeing past chris, nick and matts room down the stairs.
i creak open the backdoor, stepping out into the icy air which hits my barely covered body. i turn the corner to the hottub,
matt's sitting inside, his head tilted back, his eyes shut.
hes shirtless, wearing nothing but swim shorts. he doesnt notice me yet, but im just kind of.. admiring him?
the way he looks tonight is just different, ive known him for a few years but ive never felt like this towards him.
"matt?" i ask softly, being careful not startle him.
his eyes open slowly, looking up at me.
his cheeks instantly flush red, he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. "can i come.. in?" i ask, my eyebrows furrowing as matt just looks me up and down.
he quickly runs a hand through his hair before nodding "yeah yeah!" he says frantically.
i climb in next to him, matt just looks straight ahead. "are you alright?" i ask, adjusting the strap to my bikini top.
-
we've been talking and laughing for about 15 minutes, matt's still been nervous.
"and my friend, lana, she went for a job interview and came out of it with the job all because she blowed the manager off" i laugh, my straps accidentally slipping down again teasingly.
matt looks down at his lap before shifting uncomfortably, he clears his throat. my eyes dart down, its hard to see through the water, but matts got an obvious tent in his shorts.
"im sorry.." matt mumbles out in a whisper.
"why do ya think thats happened?" i ask casually, my hand dipping underwater and grazing his thigh.
matt stays silent, he looks horrified with himself.
"im so sorry just give me five minutes in the bathroom i can come right back-" matt rambles but i cut him off but straddling his lap.
matts breath hitches in his throat "oh-"
"do you think you got hard from.. me?" i say seductively, looking down at him.
"i'm sorry." matt says, his eyes fixated on my chest.
"was it from.. these straps?" i say, pulling down the straps on my bikini.
matt nods nervously,
"you can take them off if you want, i mean we are alone." i whisper.
matt reaches his hand out from the hot water, pulling off my bikini top, his tongue slides out of his mouth to dampen his lips as his cheeks go a dark red.
"why are you so scared matt, its not like youve never seen tits before" i joke, but matt tenses under me.
"matt..?" i say, dragging out the 'a'.
"uh.. i'm a virgin so.." matt says, his voice barely audible.
my eyebrows raise, a silence fills the night air.
"i know, we don't have to do anything.. i dont want to make you.. teach me?" matt rambles again, i cup his cheeks and pull him into a gentle kiss, shutting him up.
"you ramble when you're nervous.." i say, toying with the strings of his shorts, i get off his lap and sit next to him. the water is still and clear, illuminated by a blue led light.
i tug at the waistband of his shorts, revealing a small section of his base.
"oh fuck." matt quietly whimpers out.
“i’ll take it gently okay?” i assure him before pulling down his swim shorts,
i never knew matt was this big.
my cheeks flush as i climb back onto his lap, sitting just on his thighs as his dick rests on my stomach. i put my hands on matt’s damp shoulders before hovering just above his tip.
“please..” matt says, his voice hoarse
“please what?” i tease, pulling off my small bikini bottoms and discarding them somewhere in the water.
matt grips my waist, his hands firm against my skin. “please ride me..” matt says, clearly embarrassed.
i slowly sink down onto him, the warm water sloshing around us. matt’s grip on my waist tightens as he lets out pathetic noises.
“you- you okay?” i ask, burying my head on his shoulder as i slowly start to bounce up and down.
“i’m-..” matt struggles to speak, i let out a soft laugh.
“you don’t have to answer now sweetheart.” i whisper into his hair, picking up the pace.
it’s only been a few minutes, but i can tell matt’s close, his fingers are digging into me so harshly i know i’ll have bruises tomorrow.
his groans fill the night air, along with small splashes coming from the water. i clench around him, “i’m so close..” i warn, the knot in my stomach snaps as i orgasm around him, i feel matt tense so i quickly pull off of him, stroking him as he paints my hands with white.
“oh my god.. fuck” matt says, squeezing his eyes shut, he reaches out a hand and grabs my shoulder for support.
i run my thumb over his already sensitive tip, earning a gentle moan from matt. i pull up his swim shorts slowly.
“shit..” matt says, his eyes peeling open slowly.
“you okay?” i ask again, tying up my bikini.
“i’m-.. really good?” matt says, rubbing his eyes.
-
after a few minutes of talking and joking around, i stand up, climbing out of the hot tub onto the cold deck.
“same time tomorrow?” i smile jokingly back at matt.
----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------
was a full task to bring myself to finish this 😭😭 hope y’all like it though
I also genuinely can’t tell if it chris or matt in the first picture by the title, but you get the point
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic
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No Earth Just Sky
summary: your worlds collide, and so does your head with a fist
warnings: injury, loss of consciousness
a/n: thank you for the request !
word count: 1.5k
-
The corner comes in like a missile, curving dangerously towards the cluster of players jostling for position in the box. You’ve been eyeing it since the moment it left the Mapi’s boot, every fiber of your being focused on that one moment when it’ll be yours.
It’s a Champions League night, the kind where legends are made, and you’ve decided, in a split second of pure adrenaline-fueled brilliance—or idiocy, depending on who you ask—that you’re going to be the hero. You’re going to be the one who gets on the end of that cross, who heads it into the back of the net, and who sends Barca to victory.
But football is a cruel sport, and tonight, it decides to teach you a lesson the hard way.
You charge forward, eyes locked on the ball, and leap into the air. Everything around you fades, the roar of the crowd, the shouts from your teammates, even the blood pounding in your ears. It’s just you, the ball, and the goal.
And then, out of nowhere, everything goes wrong.
There’s a flash of red and white, a blur of motion as Arsenal’s keeper barrels towards you, fists outstretched. You don’t even have time to react, to dodge, to protect yourself. The collision happens in a heartbeat, in a single, devastating instant.
Her fist connects with the side of your head with a force that feels like a sledgehammer. The world around you shatters into a million pieces. The sound is a sickening crack that reverberates through your skull, and then there’s nothing but pain—blinding, searing pain that explodes behind your eyes and radiates down your spine.
You’re out before you even hit the ground.
When you come to, it’s like trying to claw your way up from the bottom of a deep, dark pit. The pain is still there, a dull throb that pulses in time with your heartbeat, but it’s distant, like it’s happening to someone else. You can’t move, can’t speak, can’t do anything but lie there as the chaos unfolds around you.
You can hear voices, muffled and distorted, like you’re underwater. Someone is screaming—high-pitched, furious, and so full of raw emotion that it sends a shiver down your spine. It takes a moment to realise it’s Alexia.
You manage to open your eyes, just a sliver, just enough to see her, and it’s like looking at a completely different person. Her face is twisted in a mask of rage, her eyes blazing with a fire you’ve never seen before. She’s in the ref’s face, screaming in rapid-fire Spanish that you can’t make out, her hands shaking with the force of her fury.
Leah is there too, trying to hold her back, her arms around Alexia’s shoulders, but even Leah, strong, unflappable Leah, is struggling to contain her. Alexia is out of control, like a storm that’s broken loose and is tearing through everything in its path. And you realise, with a cold, sinking feeling, that she’s not just angry. She’s terrified.
The medics are on you now, hands probing gently at your head, voices whispering words meant to soothe, to reassure. You can’t focus on them, though, because everything hurts too much, and you’re still half-lost in the darkness that’s threatening to pull you under again.
You try to move, to sit up, to tell Alexia and Leah that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, but your body won’t cooperate. It’s like you’re made of lead, every limb too heavy to lift, every breath a struggle. And the pain—God, the pain—is overwhelming, a sharp, relentless agony that turns your vision red at the edges.
“Stay still,” one of the medics says, her voice firm but gentle. Like a mother telling their child they need to wash their hands before dinner. “We need to get you stabilised”
You want to argue, to tell them that you’re fine, that you can walk off the pitch like you always do, but you can’t. You can’t do anything but lie there, helpless, as the reality of what’s happened starts to sink in.
The game has stopped. The crowd is silent, a tense, expectant hush that feels like the entire world is holding its breath. You can see your teammates, their faces pale and worried, hovering at the edge of the scene like they’re too afraid to come closer.
But it’s Alexia that you keep coming back to. Alexia, who is still shouting, still fighting, who looks like she’s ready to tear the ref apart with her bare hands. Leah is pleading with her now, her voice urgent, her grip on Alexia tightening, but it’s like she’s not even there. All Alexia can see is red.
You’ve seen Alexia angry before. You’ve seen her fired up in matches, seen her argue with refs, seen her defend her teammates with a ferocity that borders on the terrifying. But this—this is different. This is personal.
And it’s because of you.
Finally, Leah manages to pull Alexia back, away from the ref, away from the Arsenal players who are now looking on in stunned silence. Alexia stumbles, her hands dropping to her sides, her chest heaving with the effort of trying to hold herself together. She looks over at you, and the rage melts away, replaced by something much worse—fear.
“Get her off the pitch,” Leah orders, her voice shaking. “Get her out of here”
The stretcher arrives, and they lift you onto it with the kind of care you’ve only ever seen in hospitals. You’re drifting in and out now, the pain ebbing and flowing like a tide, and it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open.
You catch one last glimpse of Alexia as they wheel you away, and the look on her face is one you’ll never forget. It’s broken, shattered, like the strongest person you know is crumbling right before your eyes.
“Alexia…” you try to say, but it comes out as a whisper, lost in the noise around you.
Leah is still holding her back, her eyes glistening with tears she’s trying desperately to hide. She’s saying something to Alexia, something you can’t hear, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing they say will change what’s happened. Nothing will make this okay.
As the tunnel swallows you up, the lights above blurring into streaks of white, the darkness comes rushing back, and this time, you can’t fight it. You let it take you, because what else can you do?
-
When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling your nose, the steady beep of a heart monitor the only sound in the room. Your head is wrapped in bandages, and every part of you feels like it’s been put through a meat grinder.
It takes a moment for you to remember where you are, to remember what happened. And when you do, the first thing you feel isn’t pain or fear. It’s guilt.
Guilt because you know Alexia’s probably blaming herself. Guilt because Leah’s probably worrying herself sick. Guilt because your team needed you, and you let them down.
You close your eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use. The memory of that moment—the collision, the pain, the sound of Alexia’s screams—is burned into your mind, and you know it’ll be a long time before it fades.
The door to your room creaks open, and you hear soft footsteps approaching. You open your eyes, and there they are—Alexia and Leah, both looking like they haven’t slept in days. Alexia’s eyes are red-rimmed, her hair a mess, and Leah… Leah just looks lost.
They don’t say anything at first, just stand there, staring at you like they’re not sure you’re real.
“Hey,” you croak, your voice weak and raspy.
Alexia bursts into tears.
Leah rushes to her side, wrapping her arms around her, holding her as she sobs into her shoulder. It’s the most heart-wrenching thing you’ve ever seen, and all you can do is lie there, helpless, as the two people who mean the most to you fall apart.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but they don’t hear you. They’re too wrapped up in their own pain, their own guilt.
You want to reach out, to comfort them, to tell them it’s not their fault, but you can’t. Your body won’t let you. So you just lie there, watching them, feeling like the worst kind of burden.
Eventually, Alexia pulls herself together enough to come to your side. She takes your hand, her grip gentle but firm, and looks at you with a mixture of relief and devastation.
“You scared us,” she says, her voice trembling.
“I scared myself,” you try to joke, but it falls flat. The pain in her eyes is too much to bear.
Leah comes to stand on your other side, her hand resting on your shoulder, her touch light as a feather. “You’re going to be okay,” she says, but it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than you.
You nod, but you don’t really believe it. Because you’re not sure if anything will be okay after this.
The game ended in a draw. Arsenal went through on away goals. Barca’s Champions League dream is over, and you’re lying in a hospital bed, feeling like the world’s biggest failure.
But for now, with Alexia and Leah by your side, maybe that doesn’t matter as much as it did before. Maybe all that matters is that you’re still here, still breathing, still fighting.
#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#fcb femeni#fcb femeni x reader#espwnt#espwnt x reader#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#awfc#awfc x reader#engwnt#engwnt x reader#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community
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golden
percy jackson x reader — you take his place on the throne
cw: EPISODE 5 SPOILERS (ish), swearing
The boat bobs along the water slowly. You feel sick. For a while, the two of you just sit there, still reeling.
“You okay?” Percy asks after he catches his breath.
You’d reached out and grabbed his hand without realizing it in your panic. You’re suddenly very aware of his skin on yours, warm and kind of clammy. You disentangle your fingers without comment.
“Yeah.”
He’s about to say something to fill the awkward silence when your eyes widen.
“There’s the shield!” You exclaim, standing.
He follows your gaze to a golden statue, the shield wedged between its hands. The boat doesn’t stop, though. He looks at you, and then back at the statue.
“We’re gonna have to jump,” he says, and you grimace. The artificial waves are getting choppier.
You eye the water.
“On three?” You finally say.
Percy smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring. “On three.”
“One…two-!” Before you can say three, the boat lurches and you both topple over the edge.
As soon as the water closes over your head, you’re struggling and kicking. You can’t tell up from down. Your lungs squeeze, your eyes sting. Somewhere in the haze, you see Percy, and you reach out, but he’s so far. He disappears in a whirl of water, and you think, wow, after all of this, I’m about to die in an amusement park.
Suddenly, something solid rushes to meet you and there’s air on your face and you can’t stop coughing.
Percy places an unsure hand on your back as you suck in rattling breaths. He says something, but it still sounds like everything’s underwater.
You shake your head sharply, hand pressing your ear flat until the water drips out and you can hear again. “I’m alright,” you say, before he asks. He helps you stagger into a standing position. For a few moments, the only sound is your wheezing.
Percy squints at the chair. “This is Hephestasus’ park, right?”
You nod.
“I think this is Hera’s throne,” he says slowly, glancing at you for confirmation.
You vaguely recall that story. “She sat in it and couldn’t get up,” you think aloud.
“It was a trade,” Percy continues. “Aphrodite’s hand in marriage for Hera. The shield for…”
One of us.
Oh.
“I’ll do it.”
He catches your arm as you start forward. “Wait a minute!”
“Whoever goes in there isn’t coming back,” you explain, brows set in a hard line.
“I know, that’s why I said wait!”
You yank your arm back. Percy’s face flickers with something you can’t read.
“You need to stay alive,” you say, stressing every word.
“So do you!”
You shake your head. “You have your mom. You have Grover. You have people who need you.”
The I don’t hangs in the air, unsaid.
He opens his mouth, then shuts it again.
I need you, he wants to say.
But he doesn’t.
“The gods chose you, Percy. This is your quest.”
This is wrong. This is so wrong. It’s cruel, and so unfair that they have to choose. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.
“This isn’t about that,” he protests, though he knows he can’t beat you. You’d always had a sharper tongue than him.
You unhook your dagger. He remembers the arch, only yesterday. Is this how you felt? This burning in his chest?
“It is. It all goes back to that prophecy. To fate. To the Fates.”
Your eyes burn with tears as you hold out your dagger for him to take.
He blinks hard. “This is wrong,” he says, voice wavering, and you’ve never seen him like this before. Always tough, always witty. Unserious, sure, but never afraid.
You push it towards him, and he takes it.
“I know.”
Your fingers twitch. You’d hug him, one last time, but you remember how he froze back in St. Louis.
So you don't.
You walk over to the chair, heart pounding. This is a death sentence. This is it. This is it.
“Hey, Percy?”
His head snaps up, lip tugged between his teeth as he holds back tears too.
“Go save your mom,” You say. “Save her, save the bolt, and tell Grover I’m sorry.”
You picture Grover’s face when he finds out what happened to you. You turn away, stand right in front of the throne. It glints in the swimming light.
“And if you have a chance, I don’t know, maybe swing back around here and try to get me out?”
He laughs sadly. “You think you had to ask?”
“Just making sure.”
You sit.
For a moment, nothing happens, and you're worried that you’d said all that for nothing. You’d feel pretty stupid.
And then—
“This is weird,” you say. “It’s warm.”
There’s fear in his eyes and your dagger in his hand.
Something snakes its way up your leg, smooth and fast. It feels like wax, almost, hardening over your skin.
“This is a bad idea,” Percy says, eyes tracking something at your feet. “Stand up.”
You don’t look at what he’s looking at. You don’t want to.
“I can’t.” Panic rises in your chest, fast and unwelcome, and you’d be shaking if you could move.
“y/n—”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice hoarse. The words don’t sound right in your mouth. Your legs are completely immobile. Your breath comes in short gasps. “I’m okay. I’m… okay.”
You look at him, trembling and still pretty damp, mouth open like he wants to say something.
Whatever’s seeping onto your face is warm and brittle. You stare hard at his eyes. They’re a shining blue. They’re afraid.
It’s the last thing you see.
a/n: sorry guys cliffhangers make me giggle ‼️ I’ll write another part If u guys would want me to !
#pjo#percyjackson#percy jackson#percy jackson fics#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson disney+
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Evolution? We don't need no Evolution!
Wherever Aliens gather to sit down, do the equivalent of a 1km stare and drink things that make you feel like being gently smacked with a slice of lemon wrapped around a gold brick, eventually the topic of Humans will come up.
"They're semi aquatic." one says. "I swear. We were on a beach and we had this human - You know, to carry stuff and do Human related Things. And they just went 'oh what a lovely day' and then they ... ran into the sea."
They pause and take a long drink.
"No exo suit. Just splash splash splash, and then they fell under the water."
The others nod or quiver in agreement. "Don't tell me" the Tsin says, their scales painted with that human Nail Polish. The shade called Pining of You looked especially good. "They ran back out holding something horrible and toothy, and immediately adopted it."
The first alien snorts. "No. Sort of. We thought they'd fallen into a sink hole. We had no idea! They were swimming! Like a Tsuga! Just looking at everything underwater and then popping up and going back down... you know... they jsut. They just stop breathing? Because breathing might be inconvenient so they... stop." they say.
Everyone pauses to think about this.
"I mean... how does that even work?" one slender, feathery being asks. "But they're not aquatic. You know how I know? Because I've seen them fly."
Another pause.
"Bullshit." someone says. "They don't have wings."
"No no... but they can make them. AND and and... I don't mean like ships. No! they make them out of fabric and sticks."
The Tsin looks into her drink and then sideways at the make who's been staring at her scales for the last ten minutes. He puffs up a little. "Mm. What as an art project?" she says.
The feathery being declines this supposition and responds, "No. They built them then they go up somewhere nice and high and they pick them up and take a big run - You ever see one running? Terrifying. And they... jsut..." the feathery being makes a sweeping gesture.
"Up into the sky. For hours. Then they come down and slide to a stop and put everything away and... How do you do that? How do you fly and then decide, oh I'll just go on with being a normal terrestrial animal, ho hum, nothing special."
The Tsin coyly blows a bubble at the preening male and shrugs.
"Mmmmy theory is they're bad at evolution." she says. "So they gave up and now they just turn into whatever they need to be for as long as they need it."
There's a certain amount of consideration at this and the Tsin puts her drink down and wiggles her fingers to everyone and leaves to investigate that tasty little male with the gorgeous blue markings.
The tall and frondy being quivers and splays it's fronds. "That's a horrible thought. Imagine if they decided to become plants?!"
"Ah well" says a very drunk Waallondernook, "Funny you should mention that..."
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luke x daughter (or child idrc) of poseidion reader where it's new years eve and luke plans to kiss r at midnight but clarisse and some other people push them into the lake instead and r and luke do the infamous underwater kiss (and persassy jackson being an annoying brother in this too)
new years kiss — luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x poseidon fem!reader
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, kissing, persassy MY FAV
a/n: luke castellan brainrot.
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
y/n, luke, clarisse, connor and travis were perched by the camp half-blood lake. it was new years eve, and just as clarisse mentioned, it'd be the best spot to see the fireworks.
y/n and luke were busy talking closer to the edge of the lake, while clarisse and the twins were having their own conversation. clarisse was in the middle of developing her plan to get luke and y/n to kiss tonight. luke told her at lunch about him wanting to kiss y/n, the girl he's been pining over for almost a year.
clarisse had a plan.
after talking more with the twins, clarisse, along with the rest of the group, heard a countdown from ten being yelled from campers around the camp.
10
9
8
clarisse and the twins made their way towards y/n and luke.
7
6
with a smirk on clarisse's face, and confused ones filling y/n and luke's, in one swift motion clarisse and connor pushed the two into the lake.
5
both y/n and luke were both caught off gaurd. luke much more than y/n, since the hermes boy can't exactly breathe underwater.
4
before luke could start swimming up to the surface, y/n grabbed his cheeks, as she admired him under the clear water.
3
luke did the same, as he kept moving his arms in order to keep himself under the water. he can't believe how someone can look like even more of a goddess under water.
2
y/n caresses his left cheek, and both of them start leaning towards one another. holy ahit this is really happening, luke thought.
1
y/n brought luke's face closer to hers and closed the gap between the two. a few air bubble floated to the surface when their lips connected. it was soft at first, before luke turned his head and took y/n's upper lip inbetween his.
the pair almost forgot luke couldn't breathe under water for long, so the two unwillingly pulled away and swam to the surface.
just as they could be seen by the others on the edge of the lake, percy jackson's voice could be heard.
"have any of you guys seen my sister?"
even though no campers were really related, percy was adamant about calling y/n his sister, considering they were the only two campers in cabin three.
clarisse chuckled, "i think her a luke went for a swim."
percy immediately leaned over the edge of the lake, seeing luke treading water while y/n's arms were wrapped around his neck.
percy's voice cracked as he yelled, "luke get off my sister! or i'll kill you!"
"sure you will perc," y/n stated, before kissing luke's lips again.
"ew! guys! i'm still here!"
#shelbi writes#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#luke castellan pjo#pjo show#pjo tv show#pjo tv series#pjo tv#pjo series#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians show#percy jackson imagine#luke castellan imagine
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Ready to Stand: A comic retelling The Little Mermaid with a twist 🏳️⚧️
[Begin image description- Comic with 10 panels inspired by Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Comic title: “Ready to Stand” by Alienby comics.
Panel 1: Ariel, a mermaid, holds a dress up in front of her and looks into a mirror longingly. Ariel’s flat chest covered in scales and gills makes her gender ambiguous. Ariel is in her underwater cave surrounded by trinkets from the human world. Ariel’s voice over: “Maybe Father’s right. Maybe there is something wrong with me.”
Panel 2: Ariel leans on a rock on the surface of the water, looking hopefully at 2 human women walking along the beach in the distance. Ariel’s voice over: “But I want this more than anything.”
Panel 3: Ariel is seen swimming away from her home in a shadowy nook, looking back at her father and sisters, who are laughing together. She is sad to leave them. Ariel’s voice over speaking to Ursula: “So you can really turn me into a human?”
Panel 4: Ariel approaches Ursula the Sea Witch in Ursula’s lair pleadingly. Ursula speaks to Ariel over her shoulder. Ursula answers: “I can. You’re not the first, honey. Life down here is so drab, isn’t it?” Ariel replies: “Yes. I don’t belong here. Please help me.”
Panel 5: Ariel and Ursula’s conversation continues as we see a flashback of Ariel’s father Triton, who has angrily destroyed Ariel’s trinkets from the human world with his magic. Triton holds Ariel by the arm in one hand and holds her dress, which is now in shambles, in his other hand. Ursula’s voice over: “What do you have to offer me?” Ariel’s voice over: “I have… well, I had a trove of treasures until my father…” Ariel trails off. Ursula’s voice over: “How about your voice?”
Panel 6: Ariel looks over her shoulder back at Ursula. Ursula appears more devilish now and lurks in the shadows behind her. Ariel asks: “My voice?” Ursula replies: “You can’t get something for nothing, kid. Your voice for your legs. Do we have a deal?”
Panel 7: Ariel and Ursula now are at opposite sides of a bubbling purple cauldron, full of a potion that will make Ariel human. Ursula holds a vial of this potion out to Ariel. Ariel’s fists are clenched and her face is poised in resolve. Ariel simply says, “okay.” Ursula warns Ariel: “But the transformation will be painful, and you can never return home. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Panel 8: The comic cuts to after Ariel’s transformation. She breaks the surface of the ocean and takes a sharp breath of air. She no longer has gills or scales, and she now has noticeable human breasts with seashell coverings. Ariel’s inner monologue voice over: “Air in my lungs…”
Panel 9: Ariel is seen in 2 poses. The first pose shows Ariel sitting in the shallow water on the beach, admiring one of her feet on her brand new legs. She has a huge smile on her face. The second pose shows Ariel trying to stand, now wearing a skirt made from a piece of canvas from nearby ship debris. Ariel teeters and falls over with a chibi-like expression that exaggerates her panic. Ariel’s inner monologue voice over continues: “Sand between my toes, the warm sun on my soft skin…”
Panel 10: Ariel blissfully but silently laughs while laying in the warm sand on the beach. Her arms and new legs are sprawled out in relaxation. Ariel’s inner monologue concludes: “Now I’m home.” / End image description]
#trans artist#lgbtq comics#trans comic#queer comics#transfem#indie comics#trans comics#princess ariel#disney ariel#disney art#the little mermaid#ursula#mermaid art#little mermaid#ariel little mermaid#disney
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Breathe
Zayne X Reader
Summary: Trying to cope with losing Caleb and your grandmother, you throw yourself into work and push yourself to the very limit, only to break at the end of a particularly bad day. Thankfully, Zayne is there to get you through it.
Word Count: 2953
Warnings: dealing poorly with grief, depression, anxiety, what could be considered a panic attack, this is all hurt comfort folks, Zayne calls you good girl cause it's CANON and I can't get over it
Enjoy
---
One person can only take so much before they break. And the harder they try not to, the worse it gets.
Your day sucked. First you were late to the team meeting because you spilled coffee - piping hot you might add - on yourself right before leaving. Then, you and Xavier got into a stupid fight - he thought you were pushing yourself too hard. A part of you knew he was just concerned, they all were, but as soon as those pitying eyes turned on you, you could feel yourself bristling like an angry street cat.
You were fine.
Was it that wrong that you just wanted to work? You hate being home alone, which happens often since Zayne has to work extra hours, what with the increase in wanderer attacks. Not seeing him has already made you a little grumpy. But even worse, is the deafening silence of that apartment. Every time you’re alone, every time it gets just a little to quiet, you can’t stop your thoughts from drifting to Caleb and Gran-
So you work. You take extra hours, cover shifts, field the reports nobody wants to do, even if it means you stay up all night, even if it means you skip a few meals. At least then you don’t have to think about it, you don’t have to deal with the nightmares. Maybe if you throw yourself into work, you might be able to outrun the storm creeping on your horizon.
And that’s how you ended up messing up on a mission. Pushed to your limits, your mind was foggy and your body just. wouldn’t. move.
You hadn’t gotten out of the way fast enough. A stray energy blast narrowly caught your shoulder, sending you careening into the nearest wall. The impact sent your head spinning, your vision going blurry for a second too long. You could hardly make out Xavier’s face when he kneeled beside you, telling you to stay down, that he could handle it.
A bitter taste had filled your mouth when he said those words.
You were utterly and completely useless. And that thought seeded itself somewhere in your chest, wrapping tight around your ribs until you couldn’t breathe.
Jenna sent you home after that, with a stern command to rest. You wanted to argue, tell them you’re fine, but your shoulder was screaming and the look she gave you when you opened your mouth was seering enough to shut down the most experienced hunter.
So you threw your jacket over your shoulders and stormed out of the office, trying to ignore the way your team’s gaze followed you, not even bothering to hide their concern. You could feel it burning on your skin all the way home. And that was only the beginning.
Now you find yourself laying on your couch, staring blankly at the television, the volume turned up too loud, just to drown out the thoughts swirling like a storm in your head.
You hate it. This feeling. Like you’re stuck underwater, trying so hard to reach the surface, but everything you do just drags you deeper and deeper. Your muscles are burning for any relief, but you can’t let yourself stop. You’re too scared to let yourself stop. Because if you do-
“Are you aware that listening to the television at this volume could cause damage to your hearing?”
You jump at the sudden calm voice that speaks behind you, flipping around to come face to face with a rather unamused Zayne. Quickly, you snatch the tv remote, turning it down until it’s barely a whisper in the background.
“Zayne! I thought you were working late tonight,” you chirp, the waver in your voice almost unnoticeable.
Almost.
Zayne’s eyes narrow, making you shift uncomfortably. Sometimes it feels like he can see right through you, right to the very core of your being.
“Things were not as busy as expected, so I decided to come home early and make sure you eat a full meal,” he explains, voice calm despite the way his gaze burns through you.
Skin prickling with unease, you jump from the couch, forcing a playful laugh, “What are you, my doctor?”
“Yes.”
Right. You awkwardly shift around him, heading towards the kitchen, “Well, then I guess we should start dinner, huh? What do you want?”
“You are also home early.” It’s not a question, merely an observation, but it makes your throat go dry.
Sometimes having such an observant boyfriend is amazing. You love Zayne more than anything, love how attentive he is, but in moments like this, you feel like a creature under a microscope. Every single flaw and action under his sharp scrutiny. There’s nowhere to hide, and all you want to do is run.
“We have some leftover moo shoo pork,” you hum shakily, hands unsteady as you pull it from the fridge. “And I could make some rice, I think it’s up he-”
Forgetting about your shoulder, you reach up to one of the cupboards. Pain shoots up to your fingers like electricity, searing back down your spine. You inhale sharply, momentarily paralyzed as you clutch it to your chest, eyes squeezing shut.
Zayne is there in an instant. His fingers ease over your taut jaw, his skin cool to the touch. He doesn’t say a word, but you can practically feel his concern in the way he barely touches you, like he’s scared you’ll break. It makes your chest tighten.
“I’m fine,” you breathe, gritting your teeth.
“You’re injured,” he counters, voice still irritatingly calm, “Why don’t you let me-”
“I said I’m fine,” you bite out again, this time with a little more force, “I’m perfectly capable of making dinner. I’m not useless.”
Zayne pauses, partially taken aback by your words. They feel out of place, and he can tell you didn’t mean to say them when you glance away, cheeks burning a vicious pink. His brow furrows, confusion flickering over his features.
“I wasn’t suggesting you are,” he says, each word measured carefully, like the wrong ones could set you off.
And now you feel guilty. God, you can’t do anything right today.
Biting your tongue, you grab the rice with your good arm, stepping around him to busy yourself at the counter. Not that setting up the rice cooker takes up much time. Soon enough you've nothing more to do, bracing yourself against the counter just to stay upright. The silence that creeps between you is unbearable, thick enough to cut, especially when you can still feel Zayne’s eyes following you so closely.
“God, this is so stupid,” you huff out, false bravado broken as your voice warbles, “I’m fine. I can handle it. I’m a hunter. I’m supposed to handle it. I’m supposed to- I’m supposed to help people. Not-”
You bite off the rest, fingers digging into the counter. The pain in your shoulder distracts you, keeps the tears at bay. You can’t cry. Not now. Not-
A hand traces lightly against your waist. You tremble at the gentle touch, a lump forming in your throat as his arm circles around you. Zayne pauses for only a moment before pulling you back into a rare embrace when you show no signs of moving away. He presses his face against your hair and holds you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world, like you’re made of the thinnest ice, which is how you feel.
Tears blur your vision. You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to hold it all together. Until-
“It wasn’t your fault, (Y/n).”
His voice is so quiet, so certain.
And you break.
You don’t know what sound leaves your body at that moment, but you’re sure it’s ugly and broken. Your entire body trembles in his hold, but he doesn’t waver, simply holds you tighter as everything spills out.
It’s so much. So much weight, so much grief, your throat is raw in seconds from crying. Every breath is like knives, until suddenly, you can’t breathe.
It’s like your lungs are full of sand, your chest spasming as you fail to take in air. It hurts. It all hurts.
“Darling, I need you to breathe,” Zayne’s voice speaks urgently at your ear, and you want to, you need to, but all you can muster is a pathetic whimper and shake your head. Before you can blink, Zayne has you turned around and lifted onto the counter, slotting himself between your legs. He catches one of your hands, pressing it firmly against his chest as his green eyes bore into yours, a hint of desperation pulling at his features. “I know you can. Be a good girl and copy me, alright? Can you do that?”
You nod shakily, trying to focus on him and not the burning in your chest. Zayne takes a deep, exaggerated breath, his chest rising against your hand. You try to do the same, your body shaking with the effort.
“Now breathe out.”
His chest falls and you once again copy him, the breath leaving you shakily. It takes a few repetitions until your breathing comes to any normal pattern, and Zayne silently tracks the time in his head. He traces your wrist gently, subtly checking your pulse to see how your heart is doing. It’s racing, but still within a normal range, which is enough to ease his firing nerves a little.
Not that this is over.
“‘m sorry,” you hiccup softly, gasping down breathes, fresh tears spilling over your cheeks. “God I’m sorry, Zayne. I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean to snap at you, and I just, I-”
The doctor hums, tone stern, making you fall silent. He traces his fingers against your cheek, the cold of his touch welcome against your overheated skin. He carefully wipes your tears away.
“I accept your apology. It is very common for people dealing with grief to lash out at those closest to them. I am merely thankful you trusted me enough to let me help you through it.”
You sag into his touch, lips wobbling. To most, that wouldn’t be comforting. But for you, knowing Zayne, it’s like finally having a hand to hold you above the water. He’s unmoving, unyielding in the way he loves you, all of you. Even like this.
“I trust you with my life, Zayne,” you whisper and lean forward to press your forehead against his chest.
“Then I assume you’ll allow me to examine your shoulder.” It’s not really a question, but you nod anyway. Zayne leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your hair. “I will go get the first aid kit. Please take off your shirt if you feel comfortable doing so. If not, I ask that you change into something that will give me access to do a thorough exam.”
“Yes, doctor.”
“That’s my good girl,” he hums approvingly, a ghost of a smile in his voice.
Your heart jumps a little at that and you’re thankful for the curtain of hair hiding your face. It’s not often Zayne indulges you with such soft praise and you can’t help but soak it in, especially now. Your eyes flicker shut when he presses another kiss to your head, the touch lingering before he disappears to go retrieve the kit.
Sighing softly, you set to work on trying to get your shirt off. The nerves have settled back in your chest, not sure what to expect. You haven’t looked at your shoulder once since the fight, dead set on ignoring it as long as you could. Which was stupid. If the pain tells you anything, it’s probably pretty bad.
Bad enough that you can’t actually get your shirt off. You’re able to slip one arm out, but wince when you try to lift your bad one. So you're stuck like that, half undressed. Which is how Zayne finds you when he comes back, medical kit in hand.
He glances at you, dark brow raising a fraction. If he’s amused, his face doesn’t give it away.
“Will you um, will you help me?” You ask, voice quiet, “I can’t…I can’t lift my arm.”
Zayne’s lips press into a thin line. He nods, setting the kit aside. You can’t help but hold your breath as his fingers brush against your knee, slowly tracing up your thigh, jumping to your waist and brushing against your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch is unbearably soft, and your heart squeezes as you watch his face, noticing the way his brows twitch as he works, and how focused his gaze is. Every movement is calm, self-assured. You hardly have to move as he lifts the shirt over your head, sliding it down your injured arm.
And once it’s off, his hand returns to your waist, thumb brushing tenderly over your ribs. His eyes stay focused on your shoulder, and yours stay glued to his expression, catching the smallest flicker of shock.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You ask, biting your cheek.
Zayne carefully schools his expression, but you can still see his disapproval in the tight set of his jaw, “You should have gone to the hospital immediately. I am surprised your team let you walk away with such an injury.”
“They didn’t know,” you mumble, trying to defend them at least a little bit. It really was your fault.
“So you hid this injury from your team?” He doesn’t hide his disapproval this time. You flush, looking down at your lap again, though that’s hard with him settled right between your legs.
“I didn’t…” The words get caught in your mouth. It’s so silly now, you know that. Your team would never look down on you for being injured, but- “I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t handle it. I just, I didn’t want to seem…useless.”
Zayne clicks his tongue, but he doesn’t say anything else. His fingers graze lightly against your shoulder and you wince, a low hiss passing between your teeth. Murmuring an apology, he moves to grab a few things from the kit. The silence returns as he sets to work, though this time, it’s not so uncomfortable.
Your head feels a little clearer now. You’re not through it, that’s for sure, but the pain from losing Caleb and your grandmother lingers a little less sharply. Zayne’s words from before repeat like a mantra in your head, and for once, you can feel yourself almost accepting them.
It wasn’t your fault.
There’s nothing you could have done. You can’t change the outcome of that day in the same way that you can’t change the color of the sky. That doesn’t stop how deeply you feel their absence, though.
“I miss them so much,” you admit, mostly to yourself.
Zayne pauses, already wrapping your shoulder after applying some medicine and deciding that the hospital could wait until tomorrow. He finishes pinning the bandage down before shifting back, eyes trailing over your face. You look up at him, exhaustion gleaming in your wide, (e/c) eyes. It’s like looking at a sad, little puppy. He breathes out a low sigh, brushing a few rogue hairs from your face.
“Your grandmother and Caleb were kind, caring people,” he says slowly, thoughtful, “It is right that you should miss them. It is not a sign of weakness to feel grief.”
“I know.” You reach for his hand, desperate for some form of contact. He gives in without hesitation, fingers brushing against your jaw to hold your face. You turn, nuzzling into his palm with a sigh. His touch gives you the comfort to continue, “Sometimes it just feels like if I let myself sit with it too long, I’ll be swallowed whole. And that…scares me. A lot.”
A pause. You keep your face tucked against his palm, enjoying the way he pets you as he thinks. Zayne has never been the strongest when it comes to emotions. With everything else he likes to distance himself from them to stay objective, so you know he needs the time to figure out what he wants to say.
“I suppose…” he starts, and you glance back up at his face, catching the serious gleam in his eyes, “if it gives you any comfort, I would like to remind you that I will always be here to bring you back from whatever depths you fall to. Even if risking your life is your choice of coping mechanism.”
He pinches your cheek ever so lightly, and finally, finally, a smile pulls at your lips.
“I’ll work on it, I promise.”
He doesn’t look like he truly believes you, but Zayne nods.
“As your doctor, I would deeply appreciate it if you would.”
Eyes dancing with a bit of mirth, you lean forward, pressing a loving kiss to his cheek. Zayne catches you before you can pull back, fingers curling along your jaw as he draws you into a deeper kiss. It’s slow, his lips slanting perfectly over your own, like a well-rehearsed dance. When he pulls away, you can’t help but sigh, leaning your forehead against his chest again.
“What on earth would I do without you, Zayne?”
He presses another kiss to your hair, voice a low, teasing murmur, “You would likely die from an untreated wound.”
And just like that, you’re laughing. Zayne smiles, relief washing over him at the sound.
You’ll be alright. He knows that today was just the first step, that grief is complex and differs from person to person, and you might have another bad day like this, but he doesn’t mind that. Not now that he’s finally by your side and can take care of you.
Nothing could drive him away.
---
I literally started this game 11 days ago and I'm so down bad for these characters, it's shameful. Anyways! Hope y'all enjoyed!
Feel free to send requests!
#zayne x reader#zayne x you#lads zayne x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace zayne x reader#x reader#reader insert#love and deepspace reader insert#hurt/comfort#dealing with grief#panic attack#lads zayne#my beloved
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