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coco-loco-nut · 20 days

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The Black Dog

pairing: Pierre x Reader

summary: You still mourn your relationship with Pierre

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The past six months have drained the life out of you. Your relationship completely collapsed and you found yourself alone. It takes every ounce of strength to not reach out to Pierre, because up until recently you shared your secrets with each other and shared your location.

All it takes is one night on the couch with a bottle of wine to open the app you’ve resisted opened for the longest time. You didn’t want to see the app without his name on it and your silly profile picture that he hated but you adored because it was your Pierre. What you don’t expect is to almost drop your glass of wine when his icon is still there. He forgot to turn it off.

Against your better judgment, you zoom in, watching as he enters a bar called The Black Dog, one you frequented together. The thought of him going alone without you, and you going without him, pierces holes in your heart, reopening the wound. How doesn’t he miss you when he goes there? You can’t understand.

It sends you into a spiral, thinking about what he’s doing there.

Maybe he is there with a girl who is a bit too young for him. It’s a Thursday, so the band Pierre and you loved will be playing. Pierre requested a song a couple weeks after they were there and it became a staple in their repertoire. The song that you two loved, the song that played in your mind as you danced in the kitchen late at night, the song that you both swore would play at your wedding. Pierre would jump of his seat, the same one he always sat in when the two of you went. The view of the band was slightly obstructed but you always thought the lighting was perfect, that Pierre just looked so perfect in that light, he thought the same for you. When those first notes played, he’d jump out of the seat and extend his hand to you -now her- and offer a dance. She would look at Pierre confused and doesn’t get up or take his hand, instead giving him her drink order, assuming that he wanted to go to the bar. Then he would realize that she wasn’t you, she didn’t know the song, she didn’t share his habit. Old habits die screaming.

You’ve spent the past months moving through the world for your new job. It was a small mercy to have to relocate while heartbroken over your relationship. When your friends check in on you, you always act okay. They will never understand why you still long for the relationship, so you never tell them.

“Promise me that you will open up again, don’t let yourself close again. The world needs you in it,” Pierre said during the breakup, tears in his eyes.

“I may never open up the way I did for you,” your voice is shaky as you admit it. Pierre brought out the best in you. He noticed right away how reserved you were, and he promised you that he’d be a brave man so you could open up too. He was, and soon you believe you needed a brave man.

You step out into the pouring rain in Milan. The streets are familiar comfort. Your company booked a hotel painfully close to Pierre’s apartment. The sensation is similar to the one of your first fight. You wonder if Pierre thinks of it in the shower and misses it.

Your rain-soaked body standing in the streets as you quietly argued about something.

“Do you hate me?” you ask, tears mixed with the rain.

“God no, I could never. I’m sorry, mon amour, this fight is trivial,” Pierre pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your lips in apology.

“I love you, Pierre,” you say for the first time. You silently wondered if the trivial argument was hazing for the cruel sorority of WAGs that you had to pledge. If it was, you’d do it every time to be with Pierre.

To this day, you still mean what you said in the rain. Even after six months, you still miss him. You miss him so much it makes you angry. The wondering about what he was doing and how he spoke of you to his friends made you want to set fire to this god forsaken city. Maybe you should hire a priest to exorcise whatever demon is living in you, even if you die screaming. You hope Pierre would hear about it, then maybe he would know how much you are hurting.

You shake out of your trance and walk back into your hotel, taking a warm shower and put on clean clothes.

“Come on, Y/n, we are going to a bar down the street,” your coworker knocks on your door. Alcohol. Alcohol would help you drown Pierre from your thoughts.

You approach the all too familiar bar and you want to dig your heels into the ground and not go in. Maybe you are being irrational, he’s probably racing this weekend. You weren’t wrong, except they are racing in Monza.

Your stomach flips as you hear the live band, it’s Thursday. You order your usual, saying hello to the person who was your favorite bartender, and sit in the booth with your coworkers, one that has a perfect view of the bar, and shitty lighting. You throw your drink back.

You walk back up to the bar, needing another shot. You can’t help but to look at the booth you used to haunt. Pierre is looking equally miserable as you. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here and like he will be sick as a girl who is absolutely not his type sits in your spot.

“He hasn’t been the same since you left, never makes it past your song when he’s forced to bring a girl on a date. He leaves with his tail between his legs, like a puppy,” the bartender says, pouring you a gummy bear shot because you never were able to take a normal shot, noticing your longing eyes.

“I can’t believe he’s here, that I’m here,” you throw the shot back, ordering another drink to sip.

“He still gets up on reflex, I am starting to think he pictures you sitting across from him,” the bartender adds, and the band seems to notice you too. “Go for it, you two look equally miserable,” the bartender says as the first few notes are played by the band. You watch Pierre get up from the booth as you walk around the bar. His eyes are on his empty hand, not noticing you. You take his hand.

“Y/n?” The ghost of your name on his lips like a prayer. You still can’t believe he’s here.

“Pierre,” you smile softly, dancing with him to the music, everything right in the world for those couple minutes. The girl leaves your seat and the bar. You take your rightful spot across from Pierre and everything feels right again.

“What are you doing here? Last time I checked you were living in New Zealand,” Pierre asks, heart pounding.

“Work, sorry if this is weird, my coworkers chose the bar. We were sitting in a booth and it didn’t feel right sitting there,” you laugh a little.

“I’m so glad that you are here, I’ve missed you so much,” he grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to it.

“I’ve missed you too. You never turned off your location either,” you point out, his face flaming.

“What were we doing? I’ve been miserable without you,” Pierre admits.

“I don’t know, but I’ve been miserable too,” you tell him, the band’s music in the background taking you back to when you and Pierre were together.

“Are you busy this weekend?”

“Why?”

“I have an extra paddock pass, it would mean the world to me for you to watch from the garage,” all you can do is nod.

“I should get back to my coworkers,” you sigh.

“Even though you’d rather stay with me?” Pierre reads your mind, you nod in confirmation. “I’ll join you,” Pierre grabs his front and follows you to the large booth that isn’t right because it isn’t yours. Pierre sits beside you, an arm around your waist.

“I’ll walk you back to your hotel,” Pierre says, kissing the side of your head. You were ready to leave but your coworkers wanted to stay.

“Thanks, Pierrot,” his heart flutters at the nickname. He follows you to your hotel, a block from his apartment.

“Want me to pick you up on my way to the track?” Pierre asks, leaning against the wall beside your hotel room.

“I’ll have meetings during free practice one, I can find my way there for free practice two,” you say, making no move to go inside your room.

“I’ll leave the pass for you at the front desk, then maybe we can get dinner at that little restaurant you like after?” Pierre asks and you nod.

“Pierre, what are we doing?” you ask, looking at him.

“I don’t know, but I do know that I’d like to try again. I’ve been happier the past few hours than I have been in months,” he admits.

“I’d like that too,” you agree. Pierre moves off the wall, his hands holding your head gently as he kisses you.

Yuki and Charles are happy to see you again, and on Sunday, Pierre finally has something to race for. He makes it into P8 and you are so proud.

Pierre spends the off week getting reacquainted with you when you aren’t working. You spend a couple nights in his apartment, happy to see nothing has changed.

“We are making this work this time,” Pierre says as he holds you close, dancing to your song at the bar, the night before you fly back to New Zealand.

“I’m glad you were here last week,” you rest your head on his shoulder as you sway.

“Old habits die screaming,” he says softly.

When you and Pierre get married, that band plays at your wedding reception, and your first dance is to your song.

#f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly #the tourtured poets department

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holylulusworld · 8 months

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Very tight places - Kinktober 3

Summary: You're stuck with a soulless Sam again.

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Square 8 filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Amnesia

Square 6 filled for @samwinchesterbingo: Dirty Talk

Warnings: soulless!Sam being his asshole self, cheating (kinda), smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of anal sex, creampie, claustrophilia, blasphemie

Rating: Explicit

Kink: Claustrophilia

Words:

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Catch up here: Cramped (1) & Tight places (2)

Six months later you are still hunting with Dean and Sam. You didn’t want to leave the elder Winchester alone with his soulless brother.

Who are you trying to kid? The ugly and embarrassing truth is, that you can’t stay away from Sam for too long.

He’s intoxicating. You’re high on him, and the way he fucks you. If you had an ounce of dignity left, you’d tell the bastard to fuck off. But you are too far gone to care.

Most nights, you let him do unspeakable things to you. Dean stumbled in on you and his brother, calling you sick more than once. He wrinkles his nose anytime Sam gropes you in front of his brother.

Sam has no filter. In any way. When it comes to sex, he doesn’t care if you are in the middle of a case, at a hospital, or buying groceries. Sam wants you, and he gets you.

Anytime. Anywhere.

“Sam, what are we doing here, dressed in the cheapest costumes we could find,” you grumble as Sam decides you must play nun and priest to solve your latest case.

Dean is out and about to find Death. Not to die this time, but to convince Death himself to help him get Sam’s soul back.

Sam is not amused. He wants to stay like this. New and improved. Deadly, focused, and with a sexual appetite making even Dean blush.

“I look ridiculous. They will not believe I’m a nun.” Glancing around the almost empty church you sigh. At least there are not many people around to witness your poor performance.

“Why?” Sam resists the urge to grope your ass. Seeing you in your nun costume got him rock-hard. If not for the case he wants to solve, he’d have you bent over the altar already. “We look just the same as the priest I knocked out to get his clothes.”

“You did what?” you stop in your tracks to gape at Sam. “Please tell me you didn’t knock a priest out, Samuel Winchester. I don’t want to go to hell only because you have no impulse control.”

Sam smirks darkly. “You are so cute when mad,” he dips his head to whisper, “not so cute while you writhe on my fat cock. You’re a whore, not a saint. I know how you like it. Dirty and rough.”

“Sam, can you for once not think about your dick?” You growl. “We still need to find the monster killing the people at the church. Sadly, the only witness still suffers from amnesia.”

“That’s where you come in,” Sam purrs. “I didn’t want you to wear this iconic tunic only for fun. You are the one taking Sister Margaret’s place. You’ll fit in just fine.”

“I don’t want to play the next victim for the monster. Which by the way, you still didn’t identify, Sam. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent the last night at the bar with that blonde,” you snap at the hunter. You don’t give a shit if your blow your cover. Sam won’t get away with treating you like a random bitch he can fuck and leave afterward.

“Y/N, be honest with me,” he chuckles at your angry expression, “are you jealous because you are in love with me?“

“You wish,” you walk away, too angry to be around Sam today. Are you jealous? Of course, you are. Sam and you spent the last months together. Most of the time in the sheets. But last night, he told you to leave and didn’t return until early in the morning.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” Sam mocks you. “I know you love me. You draw hearts and imagine walking down the aisle while I wait for you to give you the ring.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you turn back around to snap at Sam. “I can’t wait for Dean to get your soul back. The moment you have it back, I’m gone. Don’t believe I stuck around for you and your limp dick. I did it for Dean because he’s a good man. Always was.”

“You want my brother?” His features darken, and you can see the change in Sam’s eyes. You take a step back. You know the look in his eyes. It’s the same one you see when he’s about to attack a monster. “Well, too bad. He can’t have you.”

“He can have me if he wants me.” It’s your turn to pay Sam back for all the times you asked yourself if he’s with some other girl. “Just like you had that pretty little thing last night.”

Sam snorts. “She was boring and wanted to go on a date first.” He casually says. As if this excuses his behavior, and how he treated you last night. “Come. I show you something nice.”

“Sam, I’m not in the mood for one of your games. Let’s just solve this case and we can go our separate ways. I stuck around far longer than I intended to.” You huff as Sam once again, ignores your protests. He grabs you by your arm and drags you toward the confession booth.

“Sam! What are you doing?”

“Shush now, I saw someone,” he pushes you inside the booth and closes the door behind him. You gulp. You’re stuck in a tight place with Sam again. “Do you have your gun?”

“What kind of question is that Winchester? I’m not an idiot!”

“Good. Stay in here and wait for me,” he turns around to look at you. Something flashes in his eyes before he turns around to leave the booth. Not without telling you to lock it, though…

You’re gnawing at your nails. Sam left you at the confession booth half an hour ago, and now you don’t know if you left the booth to help him or not.

You press your ear to the door, listening to your breathing. There is not a sound, and you wonder if Sam messed with you and just left the church.

“Open the door,” Sam knocks at the door, “now.”

“Fuck, Winchester,” you curse, but unlock the door to drag Sam inside. He closes it behind him once again and releases an annoyed huff as you check him for injuries.

“You can't wait to put your hands on me again, huh?” Sam turns around to look you up and down. “You know,” he licks his lips. His large hands shoot toward your face to cradle it for a moment, “I think you should confess your sins to me, my dear.”

“I said I’m not in the mood for one of your games,” you pout and cross your arms over your chest. “Why did you leave me in here, all alone? Did you find the monster?”

“I fucked the nuns and gave them a good spanking,” Sam deadpans. “What do you think I did? I kept you safe. The monster wasn’t here. We will find them, though.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“And you are still my whore. My brother can’t have you,” he moves his hand to your throat. “Say it.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish I would,” he chuckles as you claw at the hand holding your throat in a tight grip. “OR maybe I should remind you of your worth. Turn around, lift your tunic, sister. I want to see your cunt.”

“No.”

“Do it or I swear I’ll drag you out of here and fuck you on the altar like I wanted to,” he warns. You know Sam is not joking. If you don’t do as he says, he’ll drag you out and have his way with you on the altar.

He drops his hand from your throat, smirking as you slowly turn around. You shove the black tunic up your body to reveal your ass to him.

“I hate you so much.”

“No panties,” Sam moves his hand between your legs to find you dripping for him. “you’re such a whore for me. I can’t believe I found someone like you.”

You should knee his balls and just leave him there. Instead, you press your hands against the wooden wall and brace yourself for Sam’s massive cock. He’s not a fan of foreplay when he’s like that.

“My whore.” He runs his large hand over your back, down to your ass. “Look at you, ready to have my cock. I think I’ll go for your ass today.”

You suck in a breath. It’s always a struggle to take him up your ass. Especially when he’s impatient.

“Here?”

“Aw, my little cockslut loves having me up her ass, huh?” His pants drop to the ground before you can even choke out a moan. Sam is on you in a blink. One hand moves between your legs to slap your pussy. “Answer me!”

“YES!”

“Louder!”

“I love your cock up my ass,” he slaps your pussylips again, and again until your tender flesh throbs and you soak his hand. “I want to feel it all the time.”

“Beg me,” he slings his arm around your throat. “Y/N, I’m not asking,” Sam growls in your ear. “I want to hear you beg.”

“Please give me your cock, Father Winchester,” he bends your body to his will and rams himself inside of your leaking cunt.

“Fuck,” Sam is not gentle. All he gives you is his free hand between your legs to toy with your clit. He snaps his hips into your ass, making you cry out with every deep thrust. “I love it when cry a little.”

“Ass-hole,” you press your hands hard against the wooden wall. “I hate you so much.”

Sam doesn’t care about your words, or that you soak his cock only a few thrusts later. He batters your cunt, hoping to force another orgasm out of you to make you see that only he can fulfill your desires.

“You make the sweetest noises when I fuck you,” he nips at your earlobe, teeth sinking in your flesh to tug at it. You moan and push back onto him. Sam knows exactly which buttons he must push to get what he wants. “I’m going to fill this cunt up again.”

You hiss his name when your body sizes up. You tremble in his arms and close your eyes as your orgasm washes over you. When he fucks you like this, from behind you can pretend it’s the real Sam, not the broken version of the hunter.

“You’re such a good slut for me, Y/N. I’ll never let you go,” his words a more threat than a promise. His hips begin to stutter. “Open that pussy for me, take my cum…”

You don’t know how you made it out of the church without getting caught. Sam’s cum ran down your thighs as he dragged you out of the place you stained with your sins.

Back at the motel, you try to make him talk to you. Sam sits across you, just staring at you.

“Sam, we still need to find the monster.” You sigh as he ignores you. “SAM! The monster.”

“It was a hoax,” he shrugs and drops his eyes to your legs. “I wanted to fuck you at a church in a confession booth.”

“There is no monster?” Your jaw drops. “You drove to the middle of nowhere, and forced me to wear a nun costume only for sex.”

“Roleplay, kitten. It’s essential to keep my dick hard.” He watches you squirm on the bed. “Be good and spread your legs. Let me see your tainted cunt.”

“Sam…can you just not be so crass all the time?”

“I said,” he gets up from his seat to stand in front of your bed, “spread your legs and show me your well-fucked and cum stained cunt.”

“Fine,” you fall back onto the bed and spread your legs. “Satisfied.”

“Hmm…I don’t know,” he unbuckles his belt with one hand and shoves his pants down his legs. “I think you need more cum in your pussy…”

“Please tell me you got him out,” Dean looks at Death.

“I got his soul, and we should hurry but,” Death looks Dean straight in the eyes, “I must warn you. This soul got ripped apart, and there is not much left of the brother you knew…

#sam winchester #anyfandomgoesbingo #samwinchesterbingo #soulless sam #sam winchester smut #soulless!sam #smut #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #kinktober vs flufftober 2023

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whateverisbeautiful · 3 months

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♥️ Ranking Richonne

#3: Have Your Mints (S6E10)

✨TOP 3!✨

Wow. 😍 Let’s just start there. Oh this moment is perfect and I wouldn’t have Rick and Michonne officially become Richonne any other way. This is one of those mesmerizing scenes that is guaranteed to make my heart flutter every time I see it no matter how many times I’ve seen it. The joy radiating from them in this extremely significant moment is beautiful to behold. This scene set off a 'canon' heard around the world and history was made as Rick and Michonne finally let all that love and desire for each other completely pour out. Three words best describe this gorgeous scene to me - euphoric, soul-stirring, and, of course, iconic...

With so much build-up from season 3 to this moment on their living room couch, it was perfect that all it took was some mints and finally holding hands for all that blazing passion between Rick and Michonne to be released.

After nine months of knowing each other, it was time for Richonne's canon era to be born. 🥳

And if you wanna talk about scenes that are instrumental to the making of Richonne, few are more instrumental than this one right here, where the two joyously embrace that the love of their life has been right in front of them all this time. 🥹

Ok so first, I quickly want to talk about the beautiful scene between Carl and Michonne on their porch in this ep. It is such a sweet profession of the love those two have for each other and their mother/son bond, and I adore that Judith was included in this scene too.

I always think about how Michonne and Carl hug at the end of the scene, but I had forgotten Judith is right there in that hug too. And I love this moment because it’s this great visual of the way Michonne is so clearly the Grimes matriarch to these two children. They’re hers. 🥰 She loves them so much and it’s clear they love her so much too (Also my ears hear that adorable baby girl say 'Michonne' at the start of this scene every time lol 😂)

And this moment with her Grimes kids just really makes it feel like all that’s left is for Michonne to embrace that she also has a whole Grimes husband waiting for her too. And thank goodness that’s exactly what is embraced at the end of the episode. 🤗

It’s always so telling that the scene starts with Rick clearly tired but plopping down on the couch instead of just going to bed. He’s waiting for her.👌🏽

And Michonne was waiting for him too as she entered with the baby monitor. Like Danai said, Michonne wants Rick home. 🥰

I adore the way this whole episode establishes the deep comfortability Rick and Michonne have built with each other. Like their morning and night routine in this ep just shows they really feel at home with each other.

I love how she gently kicks him and says move and, of course, this has Rick looking more awake as he gets up to make room for her on the couch. I like getting this insight into how they’ve spent these last two weeks and how Rick and Michone clearly enjoy starting and ending the day together. 🥰

And then I love that she sits so close to him on the couch and shows him their daughter practicing crawling in her crib. And the way they both smile and move their heads in sync. PARENTS. (Also just imagine them looking at a baby monitor of RJ together 😭😭😭)

I love Rick saying, "it’s good to be home" and that Michonne agrees - and truly home is more than four walls and a roof, home is with each other, and Rick and Michonne know it.

Rick is such a family man, and I love how he cherishes these familial moments just being home with her and their kids. It’s painful knowing he’s gone without that for several years when what he wants most in life is to be with them.

Side note: I just have to say, I feel like what Rick stans who dismiss Michonne and their kids tend to miss is that all that cool warrior stuff Rick does is stuff he does because he has to. And it's super entertaining and we all love him for it absolutely, but he savagely throws down like that cuz he has no choice in their world. When he’s at home decompressing with Michonne or having family fun days with her and his kids - this is the stuff Rick does because he wants to. Like this is who he most wants to be. Having these moments with them is what drives the character and motivates all those cool action moments that Rick-only stans love. His wife and kids are his "why" and the "why" is vital because it makes "what" the characters do matter. Rick's wife and kids are why he keeps going and keeps fighting. And that’s a big reason why I celebrate that Rick found such a wonderful love story and family with Michonne because it’s what this protagonist most wanted. A character’s core want is so important to a show. And what is always made clear is that what Rick wants at his core is Michonne and their family. So we love him so much for being a fighter but we also adore him for being who he truly is - which is a devoted family man. And if you really want the character of Rick Grimes to win in this story, then you don’t just want him to win the battles. You want him to have what he wants. And again, what Rick Grimes wants is Michonne Grimes and their family. That can't be denied. That can't be overlooked. And when anyone tries to dismiss it...Rick's character happily re-reminds everyone of this every chance he gets.👌🏽

Knowing how much family is a part of Rick and Michonne's core wants and needs, contributes to why it's so rewarding seeing the two finally go after what they most want in this 6.10 canon ep. 😌

I love the Richonne tones as they talk but don’t talk about their days cuz they both are open to hearing about the other's day but are on the same page about wanting to just relax for a bit.

Whenever Rick and Michonne are alone together there is often this desire to just be present in the moment which I appreciate. And just their ease as they decompress together - you know it means so much to them to have found a bond like this with someone who makes you feel safe, heard, and comfortable in this broken world.

Like to turn your brain off for a minute in the apocalypse is such a rarity, and it's refreshing that they can do that with each other. 😊

The way they can just sit side by side and silently enjoy being in each other's presence in the calm and quiet here - that’s real love. Also, Michonne’s curious face when Rick then dishes the mints out of his pocket will always make me smile. 😋

Rick says, "got you something" and hands Michonne the mints and I love the way it’s shot with the emphasis on their hands. It reminds me of the emphasis on their hands in Clear when she handed him a bullet and a spark was so clearly felt. And now, seasons later, they will finally act on that spark. 🙌🏾✨

It’s precious the way Michonne playfully takes the mints and the laugh they share, with Rick clearly happy that he could make her smile with this. I always liked that bringing home the mints was Rick caring to not just fulfill a survival need, but a personal want that Michonne had. He loves her, y’all. 🥰

And it’s sweet that at this point, Rick did this with zero ulterior motives. He didn’t know this would be the night. (Even tho earlier in this ep he does happen to tell Daryl "today is still the day" or something, which made me laugh cuz uh...little did he know😋)

As they smiled over mints on this couch, it was clear that making Michonne happy was the sole goal. And Rick seems genuinely pleased to have achieved it. 👌🏽

This moment also just made me think back to when Michonne playfully teased Rick with a razor in season 4, and Rick sorta had this nervous energy as he gave a little smile. For seasons, Michonne has always been the best at reminding Rick to smile, and what's sweet is that in this canon ep, Rick doesn't just do shy smiles anymore - no, now he grins from ear to ear over Michonne. 😊

And their banter is just the best as she amusedly asks if this is instead of the toothpaste and he playfully says yeah then tells her he actually did have a whole crate of toothpaste for her it’s just currently at the bottom of a lake.

I always love that he says he had a crate of toothpaste "...for you." I knew when Rick found toothpaste in that truck his first thought was Michonne, and I love that he can never help but reveal that she and her wants are important to him.

It is beyond sweet that in this world, Rick’s romantic heart still manages to gift Michonne and find ways to make her smile. Real one. I'll always love that he's so aware of how special she is. Rick gets gifts for Michone because he knows she is such a gift to him. 🥹

Then I adore the way Michonne looks at him as he hints at the whole lake debacle and then forever love her saying, "Oh so you had a day?" 😋 They are the best, and I like how they can really show their personality with each other. And Danai's delivery was perfect yet again.

Rick says, "Yeah all on account of your dental hygiene," and I love that one thing Rick Grimes is always going to find time to do from season 3 forward is flirt with Michonne. Apocalypse be damned lol.

And Michonne smiles, clearly a smitten kitten by that man Rick cuz who wouldn’t be. And Rick has these little content glances over at her as he smiles upon seeing her happy. 🥹 Again, her happiness genuinely means something to him, and I appreciate these loving glances for further conveying that.

And as Rick smiles, it really feels like it’s him knowing, not subconsciously but cognizantly knowing, that he’s in love with her.

No speculation needed. He's in love, your honor. 😌

And because those magnets can’t ever be denied, Rick proceeds to pat Michonne's hand and say, "Have your mints." And then Michonne ever so gently takes his hand.

And that’s all it took for history to be made. 🥳🎉

Truly the sparks between Rick and Michonne had been so strong for so long that all it took was a single moment of them actually letting a moment of touch linger for the fireworks to be set all the way off.

Like the shot focuses on the handhold, but had their been footage of R&M's hearts in this moment it would have for sure looked like this...

And I love how after Rick makes the move to touch her, Michonne takes his hand, and then Rick is ready for those mints to exit stage left as he more than reciprocates in fully holding her hand.

Once again their hands gave a great performance of their own, cuz this handhold really told a story. 👌🏽

Like starting with Rick instinctually patting her hand in this innate need to touch her and Michonne instinctually taking his hand as though she was no longer resisting what felt most natural for her to do.

And then the two of them letting this touch linger a bit as tho they have a decision to make at this moment - just pass this off as a (fiery) fleeting moment or not let go and instead let what is meant to be finally be.

You see Rick then initiate in showing he doesn’t want to let go as he more deliberately holds her hand. And I love that by not letting go of each other's hand, it’s all the two needed to know that in a figurative sense they also never want to let go of each other. 🥹

Then the way they stay looking into each other's eyes, communicating so much without words before they lean in - it’s beautiful and lets you know that what they're about to do is such a meaningful, personal, long-time-coming moment for both of them.

Michonne looks over at him, and I’ve noticed that for several TWD reactors, her look here is when they realized Rick and Michonne have not in fact been 'uggin' bumplies' before this moment and that what they’re about to do is actually a first.

So much of R&M's behavior in this ep made it clear they’d been a couple for a while. This physical part of the relationship was really just the final piece of the marriage puzzle finally locking into place.

The way Rick smiles right at her while looking so sure about this. 😍 Like there’s just zero uncertainty about how he feels about her. He knows confidently that she is what he wants. They say when you know, you know - and Rick knows. She's the one for him. He's been knowing.

Then it's precious that in this shot of Michonne, you can practically see the exact moment she realizes in Rick's eyes that he's been wanting this just as much as she has. Danai plays this moment just before the kiss so well, communicating everything with her eyes.

So then Michonne smiles at him with those pretty eyes glowing as they finally lean in for their iconic first kiss.

🤩😍🤩😍😭🤩😍🤩😍😭🤩😍🤩😍😭🤩😍

Now you know it's physically impossible to not happy dance real quick. i gotta do it. 😋

This first kiss is absolute GOLD. 🔥

I really do see that “of course” moment that Andy and Danai talked about cuz it just looks like they’re thinking of course it’s always been you.

As I’ve said before, to me this couch moment is not where Rick and Michonne first realize their own feelings for each other, as I think they been knew that, especially within the last two weeks - but rather this couch scene is where they finally realize, at the exact same time, that the feeling is very much mutual.

So still holding hands, Rick and Michonne lean in for that kiss that is utter perfection and just keeps getting better.

I love that Richonne's canon era started with a handhold that unsurprisingly turned into the most passionate first kiss of all damn time. 😊

And y'all, I’m watching this scene back to write this post, and I have to admit the moment they first kiss I literally gasped like it’s not my thousandth time seeing this moment. 🤭 Just goes to show...

I love the way the kiss starts off just so slow and intimate and of course ramps up. Cuz you know once these soulmates open this door it ain’t ever closing again.

Every good adjective comes to mind when thinking of this kiss. And let me tell you, this is the first kiss of two people who have wanted to kiss each other for a long time. 💯

Also, the fact that this was the actors not wanting to overthink it and just let the moment play out as organically as possible and this is the level of passion that came from that...no words. Just applause.

I adore everything about this equally hot and heartfelt moment. The natural progression. The quietness and the music. The way they can’t stop looking at each other. The way they can’t stop smiling at each other. (Their smiles throughout might be my favorite part. #PureBliss.) The unscripted impromptu moment the show kept in between Andy and Danai, with 'Rick' gently saying wait a minute because his gun holster was in the way, and 'Michonne' laughing. (The best soulmates are best friends too, and I feel like their reaction to this little 'hiccup' moment inadvertently ended up nicely reflecting that. 😊)

The way they so intently and lovingly take each other in. The way they both equally feel like “finally.” The steamy passion as it goes from a first kiss to more.

The hunger for each other. 🔥 (Especially from Slick Rick. Truly, I forget sometimes that we’d ever seen Rick kiss before this because the passion Michonne brought out of that man was different in the best way. 👌🏽 And I love that the second Rick had the greenlight, he let Michonne know exactly how much he's been yearning for her).

The way it was so clear that this person in front of them is their best friend but also is so much more - this person is their soulmate, the greatest love of their life. 😭

It was and is amazing to see the immense love and desire they have for each other pour all the way out after all the build-up throughout the previous seasons. I'm forever in awe.

And no matter who claims to not see the chemistry (which to me requires an urgent optometrist appointment if someone still can't see it tbh) it'll always be factual that the characters of Rick and Michonne deeply love and desire each other in every possible way.

This special scene immediately proved that all that chemistry and tension sensed from Rick and Michonne pre-canon was not only really there but would be amplified perfectly once they acted on it.

Whenever I think about Richonne's story from the very beginning to this canon moment here, it never fails to warm my heart and make me emotional because it is just absolutely moving that their journey led them to each other in this way.

This moment will forever be beautiful and a big deal both for the characters, the series, and honestly for television as a whole. #NotAnExaggeration.

The scene was a gorgeous moment of love prevailing in a show that is more often grim and gruesome. And it's a rewarding moment for these two characters to receive a major win by officially letting their romance ascend to new heights as they embrace being the married couple they've been for the longest.

Richonne's canon moment more than delivers and even gives us a bit more when they cut to that work-of-art scene featuring Rick and Michonne asleep in bed together, all tangled up cuz magnets don’t ever quit even when they’re sleeping. 🧲😊

And even with Jesus' bold self barging into their room, they both show that the Get Things Done Grimes are still ready to stand on business at a moment's notice when they swiftly hop out of bed with their signature weapons.

See, Rick and Michonne are great at being the cutest love birds, but they're also great at being...

We got us a ship that can do both. 😋

And while Gimple was behind my least favorite decision the show ever made - killing Carl (😞) - he's also behind my absolute favorite decision TWD ever made by putting Richonne together as a romantic couple. So Gimple, for your Richonner heart, I'm grateful. 👌🏽

Also, hearing Andy and Danai discuss this whole couch moment is truly as swoon-worthy as the scene itself. Like every time I come across their heartfelt reflections on this moment, my heart completely melts. 😍

Again, we’re so fortunate to have Danai and Andy as both the talented actors bringing these characters to life and as the passionate, thoughtful captains of this glorious ship. The way they always value and champion Richonne is just the best. 🥰

Everything about Rick and Michonne's iconic canon ep let us know that the power couple to end all power couples was finally here and here to stay. And I will always treasure this impeccable, beautiful, passionate, and game-changing scene where Richonne officially took flight. 🥳💜

#richonne #we've really gone from celebrating richonne going canon to now 8 years later celebrating a whole richonne spinoff 😭 - blessed beyond belief #top 30 #top 3 #number 3 #rick x michonne #reveling in richonne #iconic #twd 6.10 #twd towl #the ones who live

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cockdestroyer32 · 1 year

Text

all mine

tangerine x fem!reader

word count: 2304

summary: after the events in the bullet train in tokyo, you and ladybug have a new job in a new place, unfortunately, you're not alone.

a/n: okay so in this reader's codename is sarin. and you're besties w ladybug bc I lov him. title is from brent faiyaz's 'all mine' which has nothing to do with this fic but I didn't know what to name this and I rlly love that song so. also no smut in this.

When I grow up, I wanna be famous I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies, when I grow up I wanna see the world, drive nice cars, I wanna have groupies.

The song blew out of the car’s speakers, and both you and Ladybug sang each word perfectly (and very obnoxiously, you were practically yelling out the lyrics.) He drove and you sat in the passenger seat, you both swinging your arms around dancing tirelessly as the citizens of Greece who were able to spy inside the moving car judged your shameless partying. You hadn’t seen Ladybug in months, so when you found out you were finally going to be assigned to a mission together again, you both beamed, and got together to plan your entire trip from the cities of New York to the city of Larissa. You went from cackling a little too loudly at comedy movies on the plane, to endless chatter at the airport, to listening to your iconic super duper awesome 2000s hits playlist on a rented Jeep (the playlist title was Ladybug’s decision.) There’s no one you’d rather work with. Except…you weren’t working alone tonight.

This hit wasn’t just any hit, it was a stakeout. So, Lemon and Tangerine were called.

You had walked into Tangerine a few times before; New Zealand, Cuba, Romania, and Tokyo, of course. You’d been the longest with him while in Tokyo, when you had to team up because of a lost briefcase. He was incredibly irritating and the different ways you both did your job clashed immensely, but by the end of the night you two had worked frustratingly well together.

You’d never met Lemon before though, you hoped to God he wasn’t just a Tangerine 2.

“Oh, boo!” Ladybug starts and you join him when you look up.

“Booo!” You yell out at the warehouse as if it’s just told some awful joke at a stand-up show.

The building has the same architectural creativity as a cardboard box. Except that instead of brown, it’s grey and dirty, and instead of holding a gift you just spent the last days waiting anxiously to arrive at your home, it just holds the next gruesome hours you’ll spend planning your hit.

You and Ladybug allow The Pussycat Dolls to finish the last few seconds of their song and turn off BlueTooth before you can be sad about not singing Britney.

You sigh and say, “It’s gonna be a long night.”

“Yep, but the sooner we do it sooner we’re done. Come on, let’s meet the fruit duet.” You chuckle.

The warehouse acted as a lighthouse, the nighttime a sea of nothingness. You can spot the remnants of the trucks that passed by in this area marked in the muddy ground. Tonight smells of wet grass and fancy dinner parties, the ones you should be in right now.

You enter the warehouse, the night’s cold air vanishes and it shifts to a warm, still atmosphere. You take off your coat. Tangerine and two other men are already in the room. Even at such a dead spot in town, Tangerine is still dressed elegantly, sporting a blue striped suit that fitted him perfectly, and smelling of rich men’s perfume. You often wondered if he could fight in those suits. Although you loved a good luxurious suit—God knows your blood money could buy one, your closet was full of Versace, Vivienne Westwood, Dolce & Gabbana and Burberry—you preferred to wear more tactical outfits for the job, you know, in case someone fucked something up and everything went to shit.

“That’s Lemon, by the way.” Ladybug whispers to you, while pointing his head to the man standing in front of Tangerine.

“What? I thought they were supposed to be twins,” Ladybug shrugs.

“Um, I hope we’re not late…you’re Lemon I suppose?” You pretend like Ladybug didn’t just tell you and offer a handshake. He takes it.

“That’s right, and you’re...”

“Sarin.”

You look over to his brother.

“Tangerine.” A nod, no handshake.

“Sarin.”

“You’ve met Ladybug.” You say to the two brothers.

“Yes, we had the pleasure.” The taller man doesn’t hide the sarcasm.

“Accommodating as always, Tangerine.”

“So, shall we?” Says the other man in the room, the one who was managing this whole thing, and you all follow him.

He takes you to a desk where there lie multiple files on different workers and a big map layout of the warehouse. The man shows all of you the place, discussing what approach the team should take for the mission, at what time each one should arrive at the building, the shift times of each warehouse worker, the spots each one should be in…and so on and so forth. Time passes relatively quickly, demanding you and Ladybug a secret high-five, and you all turn to look at the man who’d organized this.

“Yeah. That’s it.” The man repeats.

“Yeah.” You agree, still looking at him.

“You can go home now.” He practically demands.

“Uhh, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get paid now,” Lemon adds.

“You’ll get paid after you get the job done.”

“Did you not get the memo lad? We get first half now and second half after the job is done.” Tangerine said.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to get paid now, didn’t our handler message you?” You asked honestly.

“Well I didn’t bring the money, so what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, but we’re getting paid.” Tangerine insisted.

“There are lots of ATMs in Larissa…” Ladybug spoke. The man mutters some curse word under his breath,

“Fine. I’ll get you your fucking money, but you’re gonna have to wait.” He disappears from sight, making his way up the stairs in the corner of the building.

“Damn, what a Gordon.” Lemon remarks.

“Thomas the Tank Engine?” You ask.

“Yeah.”

“Nah, I think he’s more of a James, just super cocky.”

“Oh my God, there’s two of them.” Tangerine sighs.

“I’m gonna go get some air.” You say.

With your coat in hand, you make your way to a backdoor on the side of the warehouse. Slipping the garment on as soon as you open it, the chilly air cutting through your skin. You slide your hand into one of the coat pockets, finding a small rectangular box and a smooth metallic item. You fish one of the cigarettes out of the box and light it, inhaling the nicotine, warming your body while letting yourself freeze in the moment. You were so far out of town that you couldn’t hear any of the cars, any of the people in Larissa, your team also seemed to be particularly quiet inside the building. Here, it was silent, save for crickets chirping in the vast nothingness that was the field at nighttime. Tomorrow it’d be full of people, receiving and delivering new packages, trucks coming and going and workers arguing amongst each other, all their chatter overlapping, sounds of life, until you all arrive and the sounds of an active workplace morph into that of an action movie, slashing and yelling (no guns, this was supposed to be a somewhat subtle and more practical job) and then, nothing. The building once again ghost quiet, but this time painted red.

It didn’t bother you. You’d been in this business for way too long to be perturbed by the sounds of the dead now. You knew what you were getting yourself into from the beginning, this is no bombshell. Although the still of a city that’s beginning to fall asleep is much better than one that had its commotion ripped away from it. So you took these quiet moments you had to yourself and held them tightly in your hand, like some old trinket gifted to you by someone special. And for a few moments, as you exhaled the smoke out of your body, you felt outside of space and time, frozen in the moment, your feet planted on the ground, scared that if you move even an inch, you’ll fall off the face of the earth. You melt off the moment when you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Tangerine stands by the back door on your right, looking at you. You’re not sure how long he’s been there, but he has a calm look on his face, a smile on his eyes but not on his lips, by far much different than all of the ticked-off facial expressions you’d seen on him before.

“The fuck are you looking at?” You tease.

“Geez. I’ve just come to get some air.” He walks in your direction. You offer him your cigarette, he takes it. You two breathe together for a while before you ask,

“Do you like this?”

“What? Jobs in the middle of nowhere handled by some fucking dickhead who can’t even pay us right?”

“No. This.” You look around, motioning slightly to your surroundings, “The quiet. We don’t get a lot of it in our job.”

“I suppose we don’t,” He passes the cigarette back to you. “It is kinda nice, I can hear my thoughts for once, don’t have to listen to Lemon yapping about.”

You snort. “He’s nice. I was scared he was gonna be like you.”

“What? I’m nice.”

You stare at him.

“How am I not nice?” He continues.

“How are you not nice? Okay let’s see, you’re impatient, you’re always irritated, you look like you’re constantly on the edge of throwing a fit, you’re always cursing people out and you always got that look on your face of a teen girl who just got her phone taken away by her parents.”

He takes this in for a second, surprised at the speed of your answer, as if you’d been waiting for this moment for a while, and maybe you were.

“Hm…still think I’m nice.” He adds, you smile to yourself, nodding your head in fake disbelief.

You can feel his eyes on you, even as you take another puff on your cigarette and stare at the darkness. You don’t look back, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“S, Fruit, guy’s back.” Ladybug pops out of the door, and you follow him back into the building, followed then by Tangerine.

The man now holds bags of money, one for you and Ladybug, and one for Lemon and Tangerine. You finally leave the warehouse, each of you making your way to your hotel rooms. And you would’ve been able to wash the night off your body and rest on the hotel’s comfy bed, if it wasn’t for the misplaced amounts of money. See, your bag and Ladybug’s held only his share, not yours. Thankfully, it wasn’t some scam, your money was placed along with Lemon and Tangerine’s. So, now you’re going up an elevator to Tangerine’s room to get your share. You knock on 215 and he opens the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey, come in.” You walk into the room, but only close the door slightly, not shutting it, and you stand next to it, ready to just get your money and leave, not expecting to stay here any longer than you have to. He goes to the back of the room and brings back a bag, “Here.”

“Thanks,” You spy inside the room, the place is quiet, most of the lights are off and it holds only one bed. “Is Lemon not here?”

“No, different hotel, leave no trail and such.”

“Oh.” You’re genuinely surprised. Shit, that’s smart, perhaps you and Ladybug aren’t as great professionals as you thought you were—even if the bar when you two worked together was already pretty low.

“What? Is me delivering your money instead that bad?”

You snort. “No, no, that I don’t mind.”

You look at each other for a second, perhaps you should be on your way-

“Are you staying in Greece after the job?”

“Uh, no. Me and Ladybug are going back to New York right after.”

“Oh.” He looks down, the expression on his face something you can’t quite read. “Are you and Ladybug…”

“No! God, no!” You almost yell. “No, he’s my best friend.”

“Oh, right.”

“Why?”

“Just…curious.”

Hm. Curious.

You stare at each other again, a smile on your eyes but not on your lips.

“Okay, I should get going.” You start opening the door to leave.

“Wait,” He says, grabbing your arm. “I think…you should stay here the night.”

The smile reaches your lips, amused. “Why?”

“You know, you could just stay here the night, if you want…”

“Okay but, why?” You tease. He furrows his brows. “I’m sorry Tangerine, I just don’t know what you’re telling me.” Your words are of someone genuinely confused, but your face and tone tell a different story. He catches on and sighs.

“I’m just saying…you could spend the night here, with me.”

You click your tongue, “Tangerine…you have to speak clearly.”

He squeezes your arm, and approaches his face to yours, changing his tone, “Sarin. I want you to stay. I want you.”

You let your lips fully curve up this time, pleased.

You put both your hands on his face, and close the space between you, only placing a light kiss on his lips, then pulling away to see his reaction. He keeps his eyes shut for a moment, as if still in the moment. Then, he opens his eyes, staring at you for a second, and pulls you in for a stronger kiss. His hands at first cupping your face, then one makes his way towards you back, pulling you in closer, even though you were already as close as you could possibly be right now. You shut the door with your foot behind you, not letting each other go for even one second. Tonight your own bed’s gonna have to wait for you.

#bullet train fanfic #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x you #tangerine x fem!reader #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #tangerine x reader

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mlmxreader · 5 months

Text

Toy Boy | Johnny Cage x m!reader (🍋)

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Could you do one with prompts 101 and 114, with Cage and M reader?? ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Johnny decide to have a little fun for the day.

: ̗̀➛ daddy kink, cockwarming, praise kink, free use, mentions of breeding kink

↳ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Old heavy metal songs by Metallica, Sodom, Slayer and Cannibal Corpse were playing on the speaker as you sat so nicely on Johnny's lap; his cock buried in your ass as he held one hand over your mouth, the other holding the phone against his ear as he spoke to his publicist.

They asked if he had seen you at all, as because you were his agent you were expected to sort out his bookings for the awards season, but Johnny just laughed and said that you were more than busy for the moment.

It was never a secret that you and Johnny were together, as the paparazzi had leaked the relationship early on when they caught him on a beach with you, wearing just swim trunks and kissing and hugging.

It was obvious from the start, and neither you nor Johnny ever saw any point in hiding it anyway.

Sure, interviewers asked him about what it was like to date his agent every time he went to press junkets, but he was always honest - he adored you, and he loved that you never had any qualms with telling him off when he needed it.

You were the reason why he was rumoured to be winning an Oscar; you had nagged him into taking a role for a large director that you were a fan of, a biopic about a scientist during the first World War, and he had been a massive success.

People hadn't stopped talking about the film, or his performance, for months. He was a fan favourite to win the Oscar.

But that didn't stop you from being completely different in the bedroom; always willing and eager to submit to him, always more than happy to lube yourself up so that you could be his cockwarmer throughout the night and during the day.

Letting him have free access to you as long as you wore one red sock and one green one. In the bedroom, you were his favourite fuck toy; his prized toy boy.

He loved the way you looked when he fucked you doggy style on the bed facing the mirror; watching you get cockdrunk and cumdrunk, begging for him to breed you.

He adored how you would happily rush into bathrooms with him at restaurants and awards ceremonies just for a quickie. Johnny fucking knew that he had stuck gold with you. His publicist hung up, and he tossed the phone aside as he hummed, lazily bucking his hips up into you.

"Such a good boy," he said softly, running a hand down your back. "Keeping Daddy's cock nice and warm in your tight ass."

You let out a shaky sigh, wanting nothing more than to be fucked and bred until his cum was leaking from your ass and you could hardly walk; twitching and writhing on the sofa until you couldn't move anymore, only able to whimper out quiet begs for him to keep going.

Overstimulated and completely spent by the time that he eventually pulled out. Drooling until a puddle formed beneath you, sweating and panting heavily. But you knew that if you wanted that, you would have to behave.

You would have to be so good for Johnny if you were to get what you wanted. He grabbed the remote, turning the speaker off before he turned the television on, casually flicking through the channels until he found an old spaghetti Western on; it was by one of his favourite directors, Sergio Leone, and was rightfully rendered as iconic.

He bucked his hips up into you just to listen to your shaky breath as you shuddered and tried to hold it in; torturing you so wonderfully and knowing all the right strings to pull.

"What's the matter, baby?" Johnny hummed, leaning forward so that he could gently hold your throat. "Hmm?"

You swallowed thickly, doing your best not to squirm and buck your hips. "Daddy, I need you..."

He grinned as he licked his lips, clearing his throat as he leaned back with his hands on the back of his head. "Show me how much you need it."

Relief washed over you in short bursts of waves. Rocking your hips slowly, getting him to groan and tilt his head back as he closed his eyes; you could feel him getting hard as you picked up the pace, moving your hips so that his cock hit all the places in your ass.

Making you buckle and groan as you leaned over, putting your hands on the coffee table. Johnny tilted his head forward, able to see his cock pumping in and out of your stretched ass as he bit his lip, stifling a soft grunt.

A string of praises and encouragements left his mouth as he grabbed your sides to keep you steady, his grip bruising and harsh. Fuck. You always took his cock so well.

You were so well trained, bouncing your ass and clenching around him as you whimpered and hung your head. Johnny couldn't help but to smile, slowly thrusting into you.

He grumbled, watching you fuck yourself as his eyes drifted to the television; against the screen, he could see the reflection of him fucking you, and couldn't help but to grin.

It was always his favourite time when he had you on your hands and knees on the bed, facing the mirror so that he could see your face as he fucked you; watching you slowly become an incoherent and needy mess, drooling and unable to do anything but keep fucking yourself on his cock.

Completely drunk, and even getting more drunk from his cum when he bred you. Listening to the soft squelches as he fucked it back into you.

Fuck. Oh, fuck. He tilted his head back again, letting out a long moan as he closed his eyes in bliss; you were such a good boy, such a good little fuck toy for him to use. You would always be his favourite toy boy.

But the way you clenched around him, and how he could feel your body tremble and shake as you chased your release; the sounds of a gunfight on the television masking the slapping of skin so easily as he gripped your sides tighter, pulling you back so that your back was flush to his chest.

He picked up the pace, fucking up into you and pounding your ass as he let go of one side, bringing his thumb to your mouth. He slipped the digit between your lips, and moaned softly when you sucked it. Your tongue running over the tip and swirling around the base.

"Such a good boy," Johnny praised with harsh breaths. "Always such a good boy for Daddy, huh, baby?"

You whimpered, clenching around him as you felt drool slip from the corner of your mouth, leaking down your skin as you shuddered and shook. "I wanna... I wanna..."

"What is it, baby?" He asked softly, running a hand down your torso and stopping just shy of your cock.

You let out a harsh and shaky breath. "I wanna, wanna cum - please, Daddy... been so good..."

"I know, baby," Johnny whispered, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. "Whenever you're ready, okay?"

You nodded, thankful that you didn't have to try and hold yourself back. You clenched around him a final time, your eyes closing tightly as you groaned out his name, toes curling and thighs shaking as you felt your cum spurt onto your stomach.

You tilted your head back, giving him perfect access to the sensitive skin; Johnny didn't even think twice, licking the sweaty skin before sinking into it.

Claiming you as he froze and grunted out your name, slowly easing into you as he felt his cum fill your ass; soft squelches echoing through the room as he eased you through your orgasm. He fell back, the back of his head hitting the sofa as he sighed heavily, daring to laugh.

"You good?"

You nodded, clearing your throat as you stood up. You didn't get far, collapsing onto your back on the sofa as you sighed contentedly. "Fuck, John."

Johnny grinned at you as he licked his lips. "We just did."

You scoffed, playfully glaring at him. "Shut up and get me a cigarette, would you?"

Groaning softly, Johnny stood. Daring to pause and kiss your forehead before he wandered off to grab your cigarettes. "Y'know, we should think about showering."

"Once I've got my cigarette," you chuckled. "I'm fucking spent."

"Well, maybe we can skip the globes," he hummed, handing you the packet and sitting beside you. "Have a night, just you and me."

"No," you growled, lighting it. "We have to be there, if you win then it could be huge for your career."

"And there he is," Johnny laughed. "Immediately into work mode already."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "I might be your boyfriend, but don't forget I'm still your agent."

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jiminjamms · 11 months

Text

sex therapy :: 18. behind closed doors

chapter tags/warnings: mentions of sex. infidelity/adultery. misogynistic! naoya. manipulative undertones. strong language. classism. heavy angst.

word count: 3.2k

notes: there was a lot dished out in the last chapter, aha! i promise that the storyline's background will get elaborated on in the following chapters. also, this chapter is posted just as jjk season 2 is on schedule for release! so excited to see our man toji and the iconic sashisu trio in full action. likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“Leave me alone, woman!”

Those were Naoya’s words as he pushed you aside from the foyer, beyond aggravated that—on the one evening he sought a reprieve from his apartment—you followed him to the door, interrogating him on his whereabouts. In his honest opinion, you had no business sticking your nose into his personal matters.

He thought he had made his intentions clear that other night, when you first confronted him about his infidelity: that there was no love in his marriage with you, that he had long promised his heart to someone else, and—the most important bit—that he would not meddle into your affairs so long as you did not meddle with his.

These past few weeks, he had completed his part of the promise. At the very least, you should give him credit for the many evenings he spent pounding his thick semen deep into your warm core, ensuring that not a drip would be wasted.

The thought may have been in vain, but you were sure that you were winning your husband back.

Sure, Naoya Zenin was by no means a big cuddler. Instead, he was the type to mumble a terse ‘good night’ after he had gotten his own orgasm, tossing over to his side of the bed as he slapped your thighs one last time.

But tonight was when you realized that Naoya had never changed at all.

With nothing but a nightgown, you chased after his fast paces. “Then, will you be home in the morn—”

“Know your place before you speak,” he countered impatiently, not showing the slightest worry for the way your lower lip trembled. With great irritation, he ignored your frozen form, departing with one last comment that inflicted a thousand times more pain than any physical wound: “In the Zenin household, all you are is a fucking ornament.”

In other words: pretty, nice, and ultimately useless.

Which is how you ended up suffering alone, all the bottled-up torment gushing out the very moment Naoya disappeared past the front door.

Truthfully, you were not sure how long you had been sobbing, shaking, and crying. As the tears that blurred your vision cleared into a puddle by your feet, you stared into a nearby mirror reflection. Sorrow etched into your features: vibrant eyes now dull and cheeks with remnants of cascading tears.

What did you do to deserve this?

Was this because you were the homewrecker to begin with? Was this your punishment for marrying a man who had already promised himself to someone else, for hindering the romance between your husband and his true lover?

Naoya’s secret girlfriend, not his lawfully wedded wife, was whose existence had carved a special place in his heart. But you?

No, you were just his toy, a ragdoll to be tossed to the side once he was done and tired.

If only you weren’t so selfless. Your life would have been easier if you cared less about being a people pleaser and instead prioritized your mental well-being.

But Naoya had made a point. His father Naobito and your father Daisuke had spent months arranging the marriage details, determined to solidify the relations between two of Japan’s most influential households.

‘We wouldn’t want them finding out about our part-time flings, now would we?’

Weeks later, these words from your husband still echoed fresh in your head. Naoya was right, he and you were married for a reason. Although he had long been devoted to another woman and you had secretly indulged in various extramarital ventures, your vows to each other had been pledged in a ceremony that graced television screens and magazine covers. Renouncing the marriage and subsequently disclosing the reasons would not only leave you both falling from grace but also begin an ugly feud between families too powerful and dignified to see themselves lose.

At this point, there seemed to be no solution to your marriage, nor did you desire one.

With this, anyone could tell you desperately needed someone who would listen to your anguished thoughts. You needed someone who would empathize with your frustration and your sentiments. You needed a therapist.

Perhaps...a sex therapist.

Suddenly, you remembered. Mind in auto-pilot, you traveled toward the unit's walk-in closet, connected to the master bedroom from the side. With so many handbags on display, you nearly forgot about this one Goyard tote placed toward the bottom had it not been for the very important business card you had left inside.

You rummaged through the purse and fished a thick black badge from an inner pocket.

Dr. Toji Fushiguro.

Delicately, your fingers traced the name etched in graceful and golden strokes, seemingly flowing over the card’s sleek surface. Your last encounter with Toji, that one evening in Teyvat, didn’t end prettily. How you now wished to apologize to him, to tell him that he was right, that he had always been right—about how you had deserved better, about how Naoya could never truly like you, and about how you should have been considering a divorce long ago.

When the scattered light from above played upon the card, your eyes were drawn to the embossed numbers below his office’s address.

What if...you called him?

No, you really shouldn’t. Toji could not be burdened with your internal agony. Not at this late night hour.

But if your own therapist Toji wasn’t the one to talk to, then who would that be?

You abhorred how you were alone with your thoughts and, surely, no one else—not your father, and definitely not your husband—would want to deal with your emotional turmoil.

So, you decided.

Grabbing your phone from the tabletop, you dialed the number, the sound of each digit pressing against the screen echoing in the quiet room and your nerves dancing in tandem with anticipation as the phone started to ring.

What if Toji didn’t want to talk to you anymore? Besides, you did just depart suddenly and angrily the last time you had seen him. Honestly, you could still back out from this call if you wanted to. Maybe the better decision would be to sit in your own discomfort and try to figure out the solution yourself rather than—

“Good evening, you have reached Dr. Toji Fushiguro’s line after hours. How may I help you?”

Wait, who was this?

For a moment, panic crashed upon you. Interacting with strangers was never your strong suit, but there was a familiarity to the enigmatic timbre that hummed on the other line. The first and last time you dialed Toji’s number, his son had picked up, giving your call a very awkward start. Whoever picked up this time was not the teenage boy, however, and you pursed your lips in an attempt to identify the mystery man.

“Geto...?” you murmured when the realization struck.

Upon recognizing your voice, the said man paused briefly, likely surprised to hear from you but moreso bothered at the shakiness in your tone.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Can you please,” and you stopped.

With floodgates bursting, you melted onto the floor with a choked sob, clutching your nightgown to ground yourself. Gosh, you had to stop sniffling if you ever wanted to finish your sentence. What a mess you were, your syllables punctuated with shaky inhales.

“Can I please talk to Toji?”

When the line fell silent once more, your heart raced. Only when the words fell from your mouth did you realize how offensive you may have sounded. After all, Geto had mentioned that Toji was off the clock, and what was wrong with confiding in him?

“Sorry!” you half-yelped and half-choked, grateful that no one else could see the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Sorry, Geto! I’m certain that you’re a wonderful therapist too and would be an amazing person to talk to, but—“

“Send me your address. I’ll pick you up shortly.”

And Geto was true to his word.

Within fifteen minutes, a Porsche Cayman turned into your street, the vehicle’s yellow exterior gleaming from the street lamps before slowing to a stop not too far from your apartment building’s entryway.

From the curb, you could peer inside from the windows, seeing Geto in the driver’s seat. He slicked his long hair back, the strands bunched up with an elastic with stray tufts resting behind his neck. He smoothed his top—a Hawaiian shirt with pink pineapple prints (just how many button-ups like these did he have?)—and rolled his window down completely.

Geto threw one arm out to greet you with a wave and then, with his chin, gestured toward the empty shotgun seat.

“Get in.”

Compliant, you wrapped around the bumper before getting inside. The interior was a creamy leather, leaving you to sink into the material that wrapped around your weight like warm water.

The moment your seatbelt clicked into place, you were suddenly pulled toward the side in one swift motion as Geto tucked his fingers below your chin and lifted your head.

His lips.

Upon turning towards him, the first thing on Suguru Geto that drew your attention was his lips. Plush. Smooth. Lightly parted as though they invited you to explore the mischief within.

A dangerous expedition, that would be.

You realized you had never seen Geto up close before, mere centimeters from him such that his breaths fanned hotly across your cupid’s bow. He had a nice jawline too, not to mention defined cheekbones that blessed him with strong features rolling against his softer angles. When an unexpected glint caught you off-guard, your gaze shifted to the silver piercings that adorned each brow. Edgy. You liked how the metal accentuated his natural arches, shining when headlights from passing cars shone into the vehicle.

When he blinked, you then turned to his eyes, and goodness—you met the most intense inky pools that could ever peer into your soul.

How long had he been looking at you like that? Why did he look at you like that? With those insanely dark depths that swam with so much curiosity that you almost wished you hadn’t looked at him to begin with.

Almost. Almost wished.

Thankfully (or not), Geto averted his gaze first. He inspected you instead, gently wiping at a small black-tinted streak near your chin, his brows pinching as concern tugged his handsome features.

“Been crying?” Geto prodded. Of course, he noticed the glassy film that shone on your pretty eyes, the puffiness that dabbed your warm cheeks. When you did not immediately reply, he brushed a warm thumb over your lower jaw. “Listen, cupcake. You may not know this about me but...” he paused, the usual glimmer in his sharp eyes darkening into a chilling stare. “...whoever did this to you, I will fuck them up.”

At his offer, you forced a sad smile.

“Nobody,” you lied. Geto had already had taken the time to comfort you with his presence at such a late hour, and he could not be burdened with the pitiful details involving your marriage. “Just some personal stress with—”

“It was Naoya, wasn’t it?”

Just hearing your husband’s name left you frozen, your heart suffocating in pain. “Was...it obvious?”

As the man clicked his tongue, he brought his hand up again. He brushed a few strands away from your face, tucking them loosely behind your ear with lithe and tattooed fingers, your earrings swaying softly with the movement.

“I see lonely eyes like yours more often than I’d like,” he explained, expression sullen.

While you had once registered Geto as outrageous and unscrupulous upon your first encounter, you were starting to realize that he was—in fact—incredibly empathetic.

"You do?" you asked quietly.

At the question, he pushed his lips to one side and sat up straight, placing his hands on the steering wheel so that he could idly drum his fingertips on the surface.

“Everywhere. I see those hopeless and confused gazes everywhere,” and his tone was melancholic as he started a list, “Clients in sex therapy because their partners can’t satisfy them, clients in sex therapy even if their partners can satisfy them. Don’t even get me started on some unfortunate patients I’ve seen from the hospital’s OBGYN department when I work there.”

Given Geto’s carefree nature, you had forgotten that he had mentioned his work in the medical field before, and you let silence hang in the air while you quietly contemplated the emotions Geto must encounter as a practitioner across various disciplines.

Noticing the resulting sigh from your lips, Geto relented. He really wasn’t the type to poke his nose into other people’s business, anyway.

“Listen, you don’t have to say more if you don’t want to,” he offered, easing the silence by re-adjusting his rearview mirror. “I get that. I respect your privacy.”

When the engine rumbled to a start again, you peered over your shoulder. “Then, where are we going?”

After such a somber discussion not long ago, Geto’s lips twitched upward, appreciating how comical you could be.

What a silly question, he must have thought.

“To the one man who can understand your situation better than anybody.” With his left hand, Geto signaled right to pull away from the sidewalk, his indicators blinking against the road. "You were the one who wanted to see him, no?"

You twiddled with the wedding band on your finger, a habit you have yet to drop. "I thought Toji wasn't working now."

"He's not. Usually, I'd handle any late-night emergencies for him, but I'll take you to his place instead."

"Oh." That did not make you any less anxious. "So, he knows I'm coming over then?"

"Nope," the therapist answered curtly, and he popped the 'p' in his response. "But, you know, just for you," and Geto shot you one last wink, "he would do anything."

Toji was not the 'broke motherfucker' that Sukuna had once made him out to be.

What broke motherfucker lived among Tokyo’s tallest residential skyscrapers?

As the Porsche slowed upon arrival, you craned your neck to gaze at the colossal structure, which was no normal residential building for Japan’s middle or lower classes. Rather, this was an extravagant premise clearly tailored for—not even the nouveau riche—but for the descendants from old, old money.

While Geto pulled into the entrance's porte cochère, y ou had to ask, "This is where Toji lives?"

How his colleague was able to afford such a luxury in the Minato Ward, the most expensive neighborhood in not only the Japanese capital but also the entire country, was beyond your knowledge. You glanced over at the vehicle's infotainment system at the center, which—according to Google Maps—indicated in bold lettering that your destination was, in fact, to the left.

You glanced up again, the high rise making you feel like an ant in Disneyland. "Sure you didn't take me to the wrong address?"

Shifting the gear to park, Geto nodded assuredly. "A hundred and ten percent positive."

"But then," you turned toward him in your seat, "Sukuna called Toji broke? Toji could not afford this if he was broke."

At first, Geto lifted a brow in confusion. But as the words sank in, his fingers traced along the wheel as he chuckled. "Ah, that. Toji just isn't where he could possibly be."

"Could possibly be?" you repeated.

He hummed, looking ahead. "Longest story, honey.” He sat back in his seat, toying with his man bun in thought. "Shouldn't be a tale for me to tell anyway."

Your mind might have buzzed with curiosity, but you conceded. Whether Toji wanted to reveal his private matters was not something for his colleague to decide.

"Look," Geto pointed beyond the shotgun seat window, "the footman's here."

Following the direction of his gaze, you glanced behind you to see someone approaching the car. With white-gloved hands, the attendant opened the door in one controlled swing, waiting patiently and wordlessly for you to disembark. Half-expectantly, you waited for Geto to get off as well, but he shook his head.

"I can't stay here," he informed and pointed to a nearby signage. "I can only drop you off because I can't leave my car here for too long. Besides, I've got plans."

"You do?" That should not surprise you. Didn't Sukuna mention that Geto had something going on with, what was her name again, Shoko? Wasn't she, like, his girlfriend or—

“Work,” he replied, reminding you that he was the therapist on call tonight. He then turned to the footman beyond the door, ducking slightly so that he could catch the escort's gaze. “This young lady is here for the Fushiguro residence.”

“Of course.” The footman offered a warm grin, stepping back to gesture you inside. “Right this way, Mrs. Fushiguro.”

Mrs. Fushiguro?!

The misplaced designation really shouldn’t have caused your heart to flutter as much as that did, but you could feel your entire body grow warm, hoping that no one could notice how you broke into a flustered sweat.

“Ah, I’m not—”

“Thank you for taking care of her,” Geto interrupted with an impish smile, his eyes crinkled into mischievous half-moons. Oh, he found this funny, didn’t he? He tipped his head to the side, and he waved. “Have a wonderful evening.”

“Hey! I—” How dare Geto leave you like this?

Yet, with the footman already heading back inside, you could not finish berating him, instead focused on scurrying after the steward’s long strides like a squirrel.

Once at the entrance, the heavy glass doors parted automatically, and the lobby inside must be a whole other world. Fresh blooms nearby welcomed you with their sweet perfume as a staff member behind the concierge desk acknowledged your presence with a slight nod, a gesture you shyly returned. Meanwhile, the marble floors clicked to your footsteps as scones along the walls washed the vicinity with cozy hues, plush armchairs to the side offering a small sanctuary. Living amongst such splendor yourself, the sheer elegance in this space was not anything new, but what you were marveled by was the fact that the Toji Fushiguro lived here? In this very building?!

“The elevators are over there, madam,” the footman called when he must have noticed your stupor.

You blinked rapidly, otherwise not noticing that you were headed in the wrong direction. “Oh.”

He led you down one grandeur hall, scanning a card at various security checkpoints to allow you through. Upon reaching the elevator bank, he pressed a button at the dispatch screen, and the rightmost door opened with a number on a dashboard indicating that the lift was headed to the forty-ninth floor.

Upon yourself stepping in, the doors slid to a close and offered one last view of the footman who had angled himself into a bow.

It was ridiculous how skittish you were as the elevator ascended, the Mozart tune from the overhead speakers doing little to calm your nerves. When the doors reopened a little less than a minute later, you were introduced to another warmly-lit corridor. The passageway itself had a design similar to the lobby floor except with one large abstract artwork centered across the elevators.

At an incredibly slow pace, you neared the only door on the floor, the entrance’s deep dark mahogany surface looming over your much smaller presence. There was no turning back now, and you pushed the small glowing button at the side.

There was no response.

Of course, there wouldn’t be. You had only rung the bell ten seconds ago, but anticipation rushed to your fingertips. While holding your breath, you turned to your clicking heels.

You battled your body’s thrumming desire to flee and, just as the seconds seemed to stretch into hours, the door finally cracked open.

Your gaze shot up.

On the other side, Toji stood—silent and stunned. There were a million questions that you caught running across his murky emerald eyes, but a much-needed sense of relief embraced you as you met his familiar, comforting gaze, tears welling up at your lashes all over again.

“Can...we talk?”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Unrelated, but I've recently started my full-time job! Balancing my personal and health priorities along with my work has been challenging, but I've made a point to still work on my fics as writing and interacting with my readers (you!) genuinely makes me happy. Sending love and hugs to you all.

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gojos-fr-bae · 2 months

Text

Liar pt. 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader

Warnings: Fluff to Angst, Drinking, Cussing, Club tings (lmk if I missed anything

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: UGH, I hate this one too, idk what it is it just doesn't fulfill what I wanted, let me know anything you would like to see or have to say. Also, DO you guys want this story to have a happy or sad ending? I'm still deciding, I'm about to finish the series so...

(Requests open)

Satoru

Satoru was going batshit crazy running around his house like a headless chicken, trying to clean and baby-proof the house. Things had been going surprisingly smoothly with you and Kaito. He had been going absolutely amazing.

You guys had been going out as a family consistently for the past three months and you finally decided to let Kaito spend the night at Satoru’s. He had spent the whole day yesterday buying snacks, toys, and redecorating the nursery that he had been preparing for the day he would meet his boy.

He was running around making sure he had gotten rid of all his alcohol, although he couldn’t lie that he was buzzed at the moment although he had tried so hard to sober up, his body just wouldn’t let him.

Just before he could begin to spiral, he heard his doorbell ring.

He ran to the door as fast as his lanky legs would take him and quickly opened it. And there you stood.

Fuck you look beautiful.

You were just wearing the first thing you found at the top of your closet, but oh gosh you made it look so good.

In your arms was Kaito’s overnight bag and the precious angel in question. He looked up at his father with his iconic blue eyes, his little fingers having a grip stronger than gravity on your shirt.

Y/N

“Hi, Satoru, thank you so much again, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you said, you had been swarmed with work and a mission you had to do, not to mention complete registering him for kindergarten and everyone was too busy to baby sit Kaito, everyone except for Satoru, and considering how much you knew he wanted this, and how much you wanted this for Kaito, you thought, why not. I mean, what could go wrong, Satoru is his dad and your baby is two years old. What harm could he possibly do?

“Hey, y-yeah, it's no problem! I would love to spend some time with the little guy,” He said, smiling at the boy who stared back at him, boredom evident in his face.

“Mhm, well here’s his bag, it has all his clothes toothbrush, the usual, and on the outer pocket I put a list of stuff he likes, hates, shouldn’t eat, beadtime instructions, emergency contac-”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, calm down, he’ll be fine, I promise,” he whispered, holding your shoulders before taking the bag out of your hands, but you didn’t miss how they shook ever so slightly.

You set Kaito down before squatting down to look at him.

“Okay baby, I have to go now, remember what we talked about, and please listen to daddy, “ you said softly. Kaito’s eyes began to tear up as he began to reach out for you, whining softly.

“Oh, Kai, come on, you promised you’d be good, and I’ll be back first thing in the morning, okay?”you said.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, although his grip on your shirt wasn’t loosening in the slightest.

“Okay, I love you the most, okay, so so so so sooooo much.” you said, littering kisses all over his face, causing him to smile the cutest smile ever.

“Love you too!” he replied cutely.

And then, the time finally came for you to part with your little one. It pained you greatly to have to leave him, and it felt ten times worse for the little boy, but all you could do was look up at Satoru and hope he would keep your son safe.

***

Satoru

He stopped in front of Kaito’s room and opened the door to the boy’s room.

“And here’s your room” he stated as he closed off his tour.

Gojo helped Kaito unpack everything and get settled in his room before leading him to the kitchen whenever their dinner of burgers, pizza and fried chicken were waiting for them * Satoru could not cook to save his life*

The two sat and ate in awkward silence before he took Kaito into his playpen and the boy discovered a whole new world.

The thing was huge and filled with literally every toy under the sun. He giggled and ran towards it, ready to have the time of his life.

The night went by faster than he expected and it was finally time for Kaito to go to bed.

“Come on buddy, please just go to bed.” He said to the boy laying on the bed, claiming that he wasn’t tired. Satoru tried to leave but this kid and his iron grip reached for his arm, refusing to let go.

Sighing, Gojo just gave up and layed down on the bed, with his son on his chest, and just like magic, Kaito fell asleep within seconds, but Satoru was stuck. He didn’t want to move because he was scared of waking up the child, so he just accepted his fate and let sleep overcome him.

***

“Mama!!” Kaito screamed, running to you at breakneck speeds, you picked him up and hugged him tight.

“Hi baby,” You said sweetly, smiling down at him.

Satoru was leaning against a wall, his heart swelling at the scene before him. He could have had this. You could have been his family. It hurts to know that you are standing right before him, and yet, so out of reach.

“Thanks again Gojo, I owe you one.”

“Well…you could pay me back by going out with me?”

“Gojo…”

“Please Y/N, just this once,” He begged.

“Ok, ok, I'll think about it. Thank you so much again. Say bye to daddy Kai.”

“Bye-bye.” he said, waving at his dad, who waved back.”

Once he closed the door, Satoru started jumping up and down, giggling giddily. YOU SAID YES, YOU’RE GOING TO ACTUALLY GO OUT WITH HIM.

If pure joy and elation were a person, it would be him.

***

Y/N

You were trying to push through the crowd at the club you had gaslit yourself into thinking you should go to. You had been so stressed recently and since Kaito wanted to hang out with Megumi, you thought why not. Oh how you would come to regret this decision.

The hoard of grinding sweaty bodies, deafeningly loud music and strobing LEDs were becoming too much, you began to make your way to the bar, hoping for a chance to catch your breath, only to be met with an absolutely heartbreaking sight.

There was Gojo, sitting on a barstool right in front of you. But that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem was the girl dressed in such a skimpy fit that a napkin would give her more coverage, grinding on him. And he was just sitting there. He just held his glass, sipping on his whiskey and looking away from her with his hands on her waist. It looked like he was mumbling something to her but you couldn’t make it out from where you stood.

You saw nothing but red. Who the fuck does he think he is talking about how he missed you, asked you out, and then proceeds, to pull this shit.

You walked up to him, tears in your eyes, and slapped him with all your might.The girl looked at you in disgust but Satoru looked absolutely mortified.

“You fucking asshole!” You screamed at him. Heads turned towards you but you couldn’t care less. You turned and ran out of there as fast as your legs could take you. You could hear Gojo frantically calling out to you but you didn’t care. It’s like you completely blacked out. You ran, you don’t know where, you don’t know for how long, but you ran.

Eventually, your legs gave out. You fell on the sidewalk and sobbed into your hands. You couldn’t handle it. You thought he loved you. That he hadn’t changed, but no. Of Course not. Afterall, He’s Gojo Satoru.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Again, let me know if u want a happy or sad ending. Thank you for reading this far :)

@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here, @starlightanyaaa

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yelenasdiary · 7 months

Note

For Flufftober 🤭

It's Kate's and Readers first Halloween together as a couple. The two spend the whole day at home handing out candy for the trick or treaters. Kate is the one who is handing out the candy while Reader bakes some cookies and other stuff for the Avengers Halloween party that they're going to at night. The two dress up in a couples costume (you can pick whichever one you want) before they head to the avengers compound.

-🌊 (I know it's not much but this is all I got 🙈)

Trick or Treat

Pairing: Kate Bishop x GN! Reader

Summary: You and Kate spend your first Halloween together.

Warnings: Smut implied? But other than that, none | 1.7K

AC: I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for requesting it, it was so fun to write! x

October Special Masterlist

Halloween, a spooky day for all small and tall. Kate, your girlfriend, had spent the night at your small townhouse home and of course she had brought Lucky. Kate turned your house into a nicely decorated house that screamed your name all over it into something that Claire from Modern Family would most definitely approve of. It was your first Halloween together and she had invited you to join her at the Avenger's compound later tonight for a Halloween party that Wanda and Nat had planned out, mostly Wanda of course.

Kate secretly loved that you lived in a family orientated neighborhood, given that her apartment was on top of a pizzeria, she doesn't get any excited children knocking on her door trick or treating. A large pumpkin shaped plastic bowl sat on the dresser by the front door, overflowing with candy and treat sized chocolate bars for Kate to hand out while you baked some Halloween themed cookies and cupcakes for the party later on.

"Look at you Lucky!" you smiled widely as he sat at your feet, tail wagging while wearing a horse saddle costume finished with a fake wig, Kate entered the kitchen in a red wig with a single plait hanging off her shoulder topped with a red cowgirl hat.

"Yodel-ay-hee-hoo!" Kate says with a put-on country accent while swirling a lasso, "You found Woody! Good job Bullseye!" she added. You couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable the cowgirl was, "I bet you've been waiting all month to say that" you replied.

"You bet ya!" Kate placed her lasso on the countertop and gently pulled you in for a kiss. Since Kate went a teeny bit overload with the Halloween decorations, she suggested that you, Lucky and her dress up a little more child friendly when she noticed just how many younger children lived in your neighborhood and who doesn't love Toy Story right?

With Lucky dressed as Bullseye, you as Woody and Kate as Jessie, it was almost criminal not to get as many photos together as possible. Kate didn't only have a great eye when it came to her archery but also when it came to her photography. She set up her digital camera in front of a blue back drop and set the timer for 10 seconds. The three of you posed for a few photos before Kate heard the doorbell ring, her first trick or treater for the day!

"Twick or Tweet!" A small child no older than 4 smiled with his candy bag open wide, he was dressed as Miguel from Disney's Coco. "Happy Halloween little dude!!" Kate smiled as she kindly put 3 pieces of candy into his little bag. "Thank you!" He waved before he turned to walk back towards his parents who waited protectively at the end of the walkway, they smiled at Kate before she closed the door.

"Looks like you've got the door covered, I'll get a start on the cookies" you gave Kate a little tilt of your cowboy hat before making your way to the kitchen.

Every few minutes the doorbell would ring through the house and Kate would answer it with Lucky sitting beside her feet. The kids said the iconic line before they noticed that Lucky was also dressed up, he got plenty of pats and Kate even showed them a trick that she had taught him recently. Lucky would carefully pick up 2 pieces of candy from the bowl and place it in the kids candy stash.

"Bishop! Get your fingers away from the icing mixture!" you scolded as you took the try of freshly baked gooey chocolate chip cookies, placing the on the countertop for cooling before putting a second tray into the oven.

"I didn't even do anything!" Kate lied, licking the tip of her index finger. You turned and shook your head at her, "you can help decorate them when their ready and after, you can eat the left-over icing" you offered before you made a start on making cupcake mixture.

Kate was just about to distract you by wrapping her arms around you from behind when the doorbell rang again, and she was out of the kitchen faster than you could blink. It wasn't long before she was back, hovering around you waiting for a spare moment to capture your lips in a kiss.

Once the cupcake mixture was made, you began to pour some into the cupcake cups. Kate grabbed a teaspoon as you did so and scraped some mixture out of the bowl before quickly dabbing some of it on the tip of your nose. She chuckled proudly before leaving the spoon clean of mixture while you shook your head playfully at her and placed the bowl on the countertop, "come here" you looked up at her. You dipped your finger into the mixture and waited for Kate to come closer before you wiped it on her left cheek.

"Don't waste it!!" Kate joked as she dipped her finger into the mix and wiped a strip of mixture from your forehead, over your nose and to your lips. "Says you!" you raised a brow only to be shushed by Kate kissing you deeply, "well" you smiled against her lips, "I guess if you do that again it'll make up for it" you added.

Kate didn't hesitate to kiss you once more, the taste of red valet cupcake mixture on her lips reminded you of the slight mess that she had just made on your face. Another ring of the doorbell broke your kiss but seeing the excitement on Kate's face every time the doorbell rang was enough to keep you from giving her a pout.

----

"Baby, we're gonna be late!" you call out as you look at the time on your phone. The cookies and cupcakes were decorated and ready to take over to the compound in Tupperware. Kate and you had changed costumes, Kate called this one Murders Ken & Barbie. "I'm ready!" Kate walked out of your bedroom in a black suit with a pink undershirt paired with some black shoes, her hair tied back with some loose strands rounding her face, fake blood markings on her face and neck added to the murder look.

"Babe, you're drooling" Kate chuckled as you were stunned at how great your girlfriend looked. You wore Barbie's iconic pink and white gingham dress with a couple of steams of fake blood to add to the effect. "I'm sorry, but god damn it!" you replied. Kate pulled you closer to her, "Thank you Barbie, you look rather dashing yourself!" she spoke, softly smiling at you.

"Do we really have to do to this party?" you asked, your mind racing with other ideas. Kate caught on quickly to your train of thought and lightly bit her bottom lip, "and miss this chance to show you off? I don't think so" she replied before kissing you softly, "besides, you've got all night to get me out of this suit" she added with a wink.

#yelenasdiary asks #🌊 anon #fanfiction #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #flufftober #hawkeye #marvel

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nonexistent-introvert · 1 year

Text

Hug Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Content: angst, fight, Joel being mean, guilt, heartbreak,

A/N: I really just wanted to write a fic based of the cover of this song done by BTS V and J-hope. I linked the original artist but there is a part where its J hope's rap so it wasn't included in the original song.

Update: I decided to link a SoundCloud link for the cover too!!

Part 2 !!!!

Unable to win over my heart of sorrow

I endure yet another dark night of sleeplessness

Without a care about my despair

The morning heartlessly wakes me up

The buzzing of Jackson was replaced with silence at this hour. The sounds of nature replaced the usual city buzz. You hated the silence, the bustle was the only thing that distracted you from your thoughts. While everyone is asleep, you lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling. Trying your best to push down the lump in your throat and silence the voices in your head. Every time you closed your eyes, the whole scene replays on a loop, reminding you of what had happened. Your heart clenched, constricting on itself. The tear streaks still shine in the moonlight.

You don’t think you got a single night of sleep since your fight with Joel. If you were lucky, maybe you would get naps and the times when you had just collapsed because of sheer exhaustion. It was lucky that you always collapsed when you returned home. You didn’t want anyone realising how much despair you were in, you didn’t need the concern.

When the voices stopped, a bright light has already shone into your room. The silence was now filled with various greetings and laughs. Many people waking up early for patrol or to provide and contribute their services to Jackson. You stood up, exhaustion weighing your body down. You tried to ignore the reflections of yourself, you doubted you looked well at all.

It was heartless, wasn’t it? How time still passed indifferently despite the pain you were in.

The scars hurt more than I expected

The pain goes deeper than I expected

The countless nights I spend resenting you

Are like hell to me

You catch passing glances at Joel, he always seemed preoccupied with some kind of work. You tore your eyes away from him anyways while your heart ached longingly for him. His porch was empty at night, he used to strum his guitar there, hoping that the melodies would bring you to him.

You rid the thoughts of him, you really should stop thinking about him. Your heart clenched at the thought, as though it protested against you. The logical part of you urges you to just move on with your life, go back to the life before you filled your days with Joel’s company. Then there was your heart which ached constantly for Joel, and yet, it refuses to let go of him.

What was wrong with you? It has been almost a month since the both of you fought. Joel looked like he moved on fine so why were you the only one who was suffering?

You hated Joel Miller. You hated him for the pain he had put you through. You hated him for how easily he moved on, as though you hadn’t meant a single thing to him. Your logical mind listed every single one of Joel’s faults and flaws. However, your heart simply yearned for Joel, reminding you of the times you spent with him. When he made you the happiest you have ever been. When he gave you that boyish smile, when he laughed at one of your remarks when he teases you with his iconic drawl.

When he had muttered to you the words he never had the courage to say while you’re awake.

“You mean so much more to me than you’ll ever know darlin’”

The tears flowed again, just like every other night. It was like your own personal torture.

Stay by my side, stay with me

Don’t let go of my hand you hold

If you take one step away

I can just take one step closer

“Joel please!” You begged, holding onto his hand. There was a split moment in time where Joel hesitated and his gaze softened ever so slightly. Joel wrung his hand out from your grip, turning away from you as he ran his hands through his hair. You took a step closer to him, “I’m sorry.” You uttered. “I need some time.” And Joel slammed the door behind him

Thousands of times a day

My thoughts come back to you

All the cruel words you said to me

That icy look, those cold expressions

You blasted the music that was playing in your ears. Trying to drown out the words that he had said that day. You distracted yourself with the lyrics of the song, hoping that it would stop the scene from replaying in your head. You were never seen without your earphones after that day, because when your mind was allowed to wander, it would wander back to him. The music helps to reduce how vivid the memory was.

“There is no ‘us’. There was never an ‘us’ and there will not be.” Joel gritted out. Your fists shook uncontrollably beside you. When you finally found the courage to look up at him, the look in his eyes was unrecognisable. It was a look he gave to enemies, a cold glare void of any warmth, so unlike the looks he always gave you. He was no longer the Joel who called you darling then, he was Joel Miller, the man who murdered the fireflies in cold blood and destroyed any chances of a cure.

You shivered at the memory, your breath hastened considerably.

You were such a pretty person

Please don’t do this to me

You know me well

In this apocalypse, no one trusted each other. Even in Jackson, trust takes time to build, you had to earn your place here by helping out. Joel Miller was reliable, polite, and reasonable, being Tommy’s brother also helped him easily earn the trust of many. However, you don’t remember the day you decided to trust him with everything you had. Maybe it was the countless times he had saved you from close calls during patrols.

It was definitely the times he had spent slowly warming up to you. When he had mentioned to you what Ellie was up to during patrol when he came up to you and asked you all about the lore of Savage Starlight. Those were the times when you slowly gave your heart to him, bit by bit, till it wasn’t yours anymore.

His good looks were hardened by the apocalypse, but when he let the traces of a smile show and let out a laugh or wheeze, you knew you fell for him even more. So when he slammed the door on you that day and walked out of your life like he never meant anything, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

The glimpse of a pained look on his face showed that he knew that your heart shattered at his words. Knew that his actions were enough to leave a bleeding heart behind. Joel Miller knew you too well.

And that was why, it had hurt so much.

Those words you said lightly at the time

Made light our relationship in the end

I didn’t know familiarity was the scariest thing

I didn’t know your heart, until our end full of regrets

By the day, your empty spot grows bigger

Perhaps it was your fault that you decided to try to walk on the tightrope that was yours and Joel’s relationship. The both of you tethered on the line of friends, as though the both of you were testing the limits of it. You should have known that when you went beyond the line, you would walk on the tightrope, never sure if Joel would catch you when you did fall from the tightrope. From your situation now, you know that he didn’t catch you, he was never prepared to catch you.

The months you had spent with him, the time you had spent laughing and talking to him under the stars, the nights you had spent in his arms. It all felt like a long dream as soon as the weight of his words comprehended in your mind.

“There is no ‘us’, there never was and there never will.”

“We should have never met.”

You chuckle sadly at yourself now, you had even once thought of what it will be like being his wife. Just like how Maria is Tommy’s wife. It seemed like a childish dream now. The scariest part of it all was how you thought you knew him like the palm of your hand, you trusted him enough to not hurt you and walk out so heartlessly, that he would at least have had the decency to let you down slowly. It took everything falling apart, it took regrets pilling on one another to know Joel Miller truly. No matter what, the place Joel had left vacant in your heart only seems to grow bigger by the day.

Even if we water our flower bed that was once beautiful

Only our memories remain in full bloom

Only the scent of longing wafts out

Time doesn’t heal all wounds, it simply numbs the pain that comes from the wounds. When you stare at Joel as he passes you, you couldn’t help the sad smile that forms on your lips. Mourning for the one who got away, what could have been a fairytale. As you watched him lift a bunch of fresh supplies for Jackson, your heart ached numbly in your heart. Even if you did give him and you a chance again, the fight and the trust that was lost between you in this period of time would forever hinder the relationship. You knew Joel and you would never go back to how you were back then, you were thankful that at least the happiness was contained in happy memories that you could look back on. On those days when you reminisce your memories with him and contemplate fixing things between the both of you, you could only remind yourself of the cold truth. However, you couldn’t stop your heart from yearning for him.

If I can just see you again

I want to show you my everything

I’ll hug you and hold you tight

So you can read my beating heart

For real, for real

Until this truth rests in your embrace

Joel sat down in his favourite chair with a grunt. The cold silence that greeted him in his home was not something that he looked forward to. He sighed, listening to one of his records play, letting the music accompany him instead. So he does not feel that alone.

“She left today. Not sure what she’s up to but she did make some joke of coming back if she doesn’t die.” Tommy casually told Joel over patrol. Joel’s heart stopped for a moment, asking for more details but it seems like you deliberately didn’t leave much. Joel bit back on his tongue, he had no right asking about you, not when he treated you like that.

The guilt haunted him every day since he walked out of your house that day. His pride not letting him go and apologise to you, and because he also thought that you would be better off without him. You deserved better than an old grumpy man like him.

But knowing that he couldn’t even see you around town now, unable to know if you are okay killed him internally. Joel could only blame himself for letting you go. Then he slowly got selfish, till the point where if he saw you again, he would plead every day for your forgiveness and hope that you would give him another chance. He will hold you in his arms, letting you hear his heartbeat, how it skips when he’s near you, how it paces when he sees you. His heartbeat will tell you the words he never got to tell you. Until you finally realize how much you mean to him and that he will forever blame himself for letting you go.

Just hug me, please hug me

Just run to me without a word

Joel wishes you would run into his arms again like you always did. You would call out his name and run towards him with a big grin. He will extend his arms out and welcome you into his arms. If the both of you were alone, you would even wrap your legs around him. Then he could let his heart skip a few beats at the sound of your giggles before you nuzzle your nose into his neck. Maybe after you came back from the trip you were on, you would run into his arms again, and he will welcome you like nothing has ever changed.

With a lonely and anxious heart

Like this I wait for you

For the first time since that day he fought with you, Joel picked up his guitar and sat on his porch again. He strummed melodies that he knew you would hum to, that you would start walking in beat to. Then you’ll dramatically sing out the lyrics when you see him, like you were a Disney princess in a Disney musical. He chuckles at the memory. Joel Miller will wait for you to come back to him. His music expresses his love for you, hoping that one day you’ll notice it.

He will talk to the moon about how much he loves you and hope that you’ll forgive him. His lonely heart anxiously awaits the day he will receive the message that you were back in Jackson and he had a chance to make things right with you.

His foolish and weak heart wishes that the moon would help convey his love and intentions to you. Joel hopes that you were talking to the moon too. After all, the only thing he had in common with you now was the sky above you from wherever you stood now.

I love you, I love you

I’ll shout out from this long silence

My foolish and weak heart

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murdrdocs · 1 year

Note

(NSFW) stepsister with virgin!ethan landry PA LEASE🖤

he stalks her.he likes calling her dumb and pretty.ADD ANYTHING YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH🖤

YUPPP no smut just plot :)

He’s so condescending. So mean, he thinks he’s better than you, only because he just happens to be a few months older. “Sibling superiority. You do what I say,” he’s told you many, many, times. Each time, you roll your eyes and flip him off, secretly feeling giddy at the way he smiles at you afterwards.

You remember when your mom told you about Wayne, you felt indifferent. You were gonna go off to college incredibly soon, nothing would change about your household for now. Sure, holiday’s would be slightly different, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Until Wayne told you that both of his children would also be going to Blackmore University.

Until you merged houses and saw just how different life with the Baileys was going to be.

There was only maybe two weeks between moving in with the Baileys, and move in day. And those two weeks were spent sharing glances with Ethan that were too heavy to be familial.

The way he treated you was so … off. Eyeing you with a heavy gaze as you walked around the house in shorts, watching you during family dinners, offering to take you places that one time your car was in the shop whenever you could’ve sworn that he hated you. He was so back and forth, such a hypocrite, spewing insults at you and then hanging out in your room afterwards.

“You’re such a dumb little girl. Not a single thought in your head.”

“Too busy worrying about looking pretty to even understand how the economy works, huh?”

And that same night you were a few paces to your bedroom when he was coming out, looking sheepish upon running into you.

“I … uh … left my charger in your room from the other night.”

“The night when you had nothing better to do than lay in my bed and watch Tenet with me?”

A curt nod and he was scurrying across the hall to his room. (You lost two pairs of underwear since that visit and you can’t figure out where they’ve gone to)

And when you get to Blackmore, you have hopes that he’ll leave you alone, hopefully you’ll peel off into different friend groups. But no such luck befalls upon you, since you, Quinn, and Ethan all wind up in the same friend group.

You swear he’s following you. There’s been many times that you’ve checked your Life360 to find where Mindy was, and Ethan’s icon is entirely too close to you, especially when you know he has a class on the other side of the campus.

Annika makes a cruel joke that your new step brother has a crush on you. You laugh it off.

But you wouldn’t mind it.

#but stepbro :O #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream 6 fanfic #celeste writes scream

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writing-the-stars · 1 year

Text

Mikaelson Ball (Klaus)

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You attend the Mikaelson Ball, but not with who you expected.

Warnings: Angst (You Know I Have To Slip It In There), Fluffy Ending, Typical Mischievous Kol, Slight Caroline Slander, Klaus Being Idiotic. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 3.4k (My longest one yet!)

A/N: Hey guys! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now and I thought it was about time I shared it with you all. Obviously, this was inspired by the iconic Mikaelson Ball episode, Dangerous Liaisons, and I had a lot of fun writing this one shot. As always, thank you all so much for reading! I truly appreciate it and I hope you all enjoy! Feel free leave a comment or submit a travel request. Have a wonderful day!

Masterlist | TVDU Masterlist

Despondently, you stand on the balcony of the Mikaelson residence, looking out at the lightly illuminated forest before you. Morosely sipping on the champagne in your hand, you wonder how you had gotten to feel so foolish this evening. Had you read too much into the flirtatious rapport you and Klaus maintained?

When he invited you to his family’s ball, you thought it was his way of finally asking you on a date after months spent charming you, but you are beginning to see that was an erroneous assumption. The Mikaelson had not spared one glance at you all evening, instead devoting all of his attention to a young blonde you now have an unfair disdain for.

While there is clearly a significant class distinction between you and his family, was it preposterous to assume that the continual late-night visits and luxurious gifts he bestowed you with symbolized more than the bonding between friends? Perhaps it truly is just custom to the upper echelon. Finishing off your glass, you contemplate if you should just go home early and save yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Not much of a party person are you, darling?”

You spin around, startled by the sudden intrusion– hand clutching at your chest, willing your frantically beating heart to calm. “You scared me,” you announce to the interloper, relief filling you as you take in the sight of a handsome brunet– his dark eyes alight with mischief. The corners of his lips lift into a wicked grin, sending a rush of excitement to your abdomen. “My apologies,” he states, kissing the knuckles of your hand, “I don’t believe we’ve met. Kol Mikaelson.”

Your eyes widen at the revelation of his name, recognizing him to be one of Klaus’s many siblings. “Might I add, you look radiant tonight,” the Mikaelson continues with a charismatic smile, his eyes devouring every inch of your body. A light blush paints your cheeks. At least someone noticed.

“Thank you. I see you’re just as charming as your brother.”

The brunet frowns at your statement and you realize he must not know the connection. “I’m Y/N, Klaus’s friend,” you introduce yourself– the word tugging at the seams of your heart. You despise how reckless you were, taking the hybrid’s flirty nature to heart, especially now seeing how flirtatious his brother is. It is clearly within the nature of the family to be so winsome and you fell for it, developing feelings that will be nearly impossible to get over. Your propensity to fall in love too easily has yet again damned you to heavy heartache.

“Ah, so you’re the pretty little thing that has captured my brother’s attention,” Kol acknowledges, causing a bitter chuckle to fall from your lips.

“No, I am afraid that position belongs to someone else,” you inform the younger Mikaelson, his brows drawing in confusion. You don’t allow him much time to ponder as you begin moving towards the inside of the manor, announcing your departure as you have opted not to torture yourself any longer.

“Wait,” the vampire stops you, grabbing at your wrist, “Stay. At least allow me a dance.”

You contemplate his offer, not wanting to linger around the manor any longer, but also having dedicated so much time to prep yourself for the ball, it would be a shame to let most of that effort go to waste. Besides, when is the next time you would have the opportunity to attend such a glamorous event? Reluctantly, you agree to Kol’s proposal, emphasizing you were staying for a singular dance.

The Mikaelson smiles devilishly at you, “Perfect.” He offers out his arm and you accept it, allowing him to lead you into the grand room where he tells you to wait for him at the bottom of the steps.

A voice rings out from the stairs you just descended, garnering the attention of Mikaelsons’ guests. You watch the family gather on the beautifully decorated stairway, awed by their beauty. Each member had their own unique allure that demanded your attention– none more so than that of Niklaus Mikaelson. The suit– perfectly tailored to accentuate his physical build– was a sharp contrast to the typical Henley and jeans you see the Mikaelson wear. His mussed curls were brushed back highlighting the delicate beauty of his face. His physicality combined with the effortless, smug way he carried himself had you wanting to swoon. Your envy of the blonde deepens as your heart aches, longing for nothing more than to be by his side.

As if feeling your desire, for the first time this evening, Klaus’s gaze flits to yours and the hybrid is left mystified. He always thought you a true beauty, but to see it accentuated so magnificently left him speechless. His eyes linger, longer than he intended as he takes in the sight of you, hoping to burn the image in his mind. Pride swells in his chest as he takes note of the silver pendant dangling from your neck– the one he gave you a week ago. One of his most valued treasures.

You feel vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze, tearing your eyes away as the emotion swarming in you becomes too much to handle. You find Kol whose gaze is already waiting for you. He sends you a perilous wink, provoking his older brother’s ill temper.

“Welcome. Thank you for joining us,” the Mikaelson sibling announces to his guests for the evening, commanding the grand room.

“You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, it’s tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance.”

Unknowingly, your eyes drift back to Klaus, watching as he stands with his family in all of his grandeur. Visibly distinct from his siblings as his neck is adorned in white rather than the typical black bowtie of his siblings– a symbol of just how exceptional he is.

"Tonight's pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner, please join us in the ballroom."

The room erupts with excited chatter as you stifle a groan. Your luck would have it that the one dance you agree to is a centuries-old waltz you have never performed before. Is it not bad enough that you have to deal with the self-humiliation of misreading all of Klaus’s advances, but now you will have to face an additional layer of public humiliation?

Kol is quick to meet you at the bottom of the stairs, as promised, holding his arm out for you. Reluctantly, you wrap your arm around his, confessing your inexperience as he leads you into the grandiose ballroom, lining up with the other dancers. “Don’t worry, darling. Follow my lead and you will be fine,” he reassures, smiling down at you with that devilish grin– oddly bringing you comfort.

The gentle strumming of a guitar begins as the two of you walk forward in time with the music– hands crossed in front of each other’s. Following Kol’s lead, you take another step forward, turning to face the line opposite of you. Sneaking a glance at the Mikaelson you love, you are alarmed by the animosity in his leer. You instinctively draw yourself closer to the younger Mikaelson as if his presence could protect you from Klaus’s enmity. Curious by your sudden action, Kol follows your gaze, finding the malevolent glare of his older brother– a devious grin plastering his face.

Due to the irksome rule his mother set in place of keeping peace with the people of Mystic Falls, Kol has been forced to find his amusement in other ways, like using his brother’s new plaything to make the hybrid jealous. His goal is to see how long his brother will allow him to seduce you before he snaps and causes a scene. He knows he’s playing a dangerous game, but Kol has always been enticed by danger.

A gasp escapes your lips as you are unexpectedly spun by the brunet– unprepared for the sudden movement. “Relax, darling,” Kol whispers in your ear, taking note of how stiff you are. You breathe deeply, letting the breath settle all of your nerves as you slowly give your trust over to the vampire. As instructed, you follow Kol’s lead allowing him to waltz you in a circle, traveling around the ballroom. You are quick to realize that the steps of the waltz are quite repetitive and, after a while, take no effort for you to enact. All the while, whispers of jokes and compliments have you truly relax in the Mikaelson’s arms as you giggle at his antics.

From across the room, Klaus surveys the two of you lividly. The one thing he asked of his siblings tonight was to leave you alone, and yet, there his brother was twirling you around the ballroom. He knows Kol is doing this to anger him, but he can’t help satisfying his brother’s childish urge to incense him when he watches how close the two of you are becoming. That same dazzling smile you greet him with every night is now being given to his infernal younger brother. That captivating laugh that softened the hardest parts of him was now in response to his pestilent younger brother. Those decadent curves he’s been waiting to run his hands over were now being held by his soon-to-be-dead younger brother. The hybrid begrudgingly tears his eyes away from the scene, knowing that if he does not distract himself soon, a spectacle will be made. So, he returns his attention to the blonde vampire in his arms and continues to charm her as all part of his master plan.

As you continue the steps, Kol leans in to whisper in your ear once more. Instead of the humorous observation you were expecting, he tells you, “This is the part where I leave you.”

You are not allowed time to react before you are spun out of the vampire’s arms into those of another Mikaelson sibling. As soon as the older Mikaelson’s arm wraps around you, you continue the repetitive steps, traveling in the opposite direction.

“You must be Y/N,” he speaks and you provide a nod of confirmation. “And you are?” you ask of the vampire– unsure of which Mikaelson brother you are speaking with now.

“Forgive me. I assumed with how special you are to Niklaus he would have informed you about the rest of his family. I am Elijah.”

An uncontained scoff exits your lips and the Original questions his previous statement, “Did I say something wrong?”

“It’s just that you’re the second sibling to say that to me, and yet, Klaus has not spoken to me all night.”

Elijah’s lips purse at the statement– curious as to why his brother neglected you when he made it very clear you were to remain off limits due to your status in his life. He is even more perplexed when he takes note of the pendant on your neck– a highly valuable item his brother accrued. Klaus swore that pendant would only grace the neck of the woman he deemed exemplary enough to wear it.

Nothing else of substance is exchanged between you and Elijah and the dance soon draws to an end. Bowing as you depart, Kol is by your side in an instant– arm being placed delicately on your shoulder.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Kol,” Elijah forewarns his younger brother, doing nothing to dissuade the mischievous Mikaelson.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, brother. I’m just keeping Y/N company.”

Kol takes your arm, leading you away from his sibling and the rest of the ball. Unseen by you as you walk towards the front of the manor, Kol passes by the infuriated hybrid, taunting him with a wink. The seemingly trivial action pushes Klaus over the edge, having him lurch toward his treacherous brother– ready to tear out his liver. Fortunately for the younger Mikaelson, Finn had already anticipated his ill-tempered brother’s reaction and put a stop to any harm that would be done to Kol.

“You didn’t have to walk me to my car, Kol. Thank you,” you state to the vampire once you reach the old Camry that has been with you since your high school graduation.

“Mother would be furious if she found out I let a lady walk to her car alone.”

You smile up at the Mikaelson brother who kept you company for the duration of your evening. Thankful to him for unknowingly saving you from your own humiliation, you give the brunet a quick peck on the cheek, sending a streak of envy through the lurking hybrid waiting to have a moment alone with you.

“Well, tell your mother she throws a lovely ball. And thank you for the dance, it turned out to be quite nice.”

The two of you part ways– Kol leaving a final kiss on your knuckles. You rummage through the small purse you brought with you, looking for your keys, when a new voice calls out to you– one you ironically dread to hear.

“Leaving so soon? And without a goodbye.”

You turn to face Klaus, a dashing smile on his face, eyes shining with innocence as if he had done nothing wrong. “Saying goodbye implies that we even said hello in the first place,” you tell the hybrid rather bitterly, returning your attention to the retrieval of your keys.

“You’re mad at me,” he informs you as if you couldn’t figure out your own emotions. You don’t dignify him with a response, grabbing your keys and attempting to get in your car. “Come on, love. Talk to me,” Klaus pushes, further stoking your irritation with him.

“Oh, you mean like how you talked to me this evening after you were the one who invited me. Forgive me if I’m not overjoyed to see you after having been ignored,” you hiss at the Mikaelson. While you are aware you can’t fault him for your own romantic presumption, you can be angry that he invited you to an event and refused to speak. Klaus’s nostrils flare. How dare you be angry with him after you spent the evening romancing with his brother.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so preoccupied fawning over my brother, I would have had the opportunity.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips.

“Me? Fawning? If anyone was doing any fawning tonight, it would be you with your pretty blonde date. Kol was there keeping me company while you were off galavanting with her, so don’t even try to make me out to be the villain. The only reason I even came here tonight was because you invited me. Had I known I was gonna end up being pawned off to your brother I would have stayed home! I thought this was a date, Klaus. I thought you were inviting me to be your date to the ball. Clearly, I was mistaken, so you do not get to play the victim here.”

Klaus does nothing but stare– the two of you too furious to have a productive conversation. You shake your head in incredulity at his behavior, having nothing left to say, and get into your car. How dare he be angry with you? And for what, dancing with his brother? He certainly lacked any intention of dancing with you himself. What did he expect? For you to show up and decorate the walls with your presence. The audacity of that man. You continue your rage as you drive back to your home, only relaxing once you feel the stream of hot water on your skin.

You exit your bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around your body as you shiver from the sharp temperature change. The warmth that encased you from your steamy shower becoming replaced by the chilly air of your drafty bedroom. You look towards your open bedroom window as a gust of cold air breezes by you– eyes rolling in annoyance. Typically, you leave your window open so Klaus can come in for his nightly visits, but you are in no mood to speak to the infuriating hybrid. You doubt he’ll be dropping by this evening anyway.

“Was that meant to keep me out, love?”

A frightened gasp escapes you as you quickly turn around, meeting a pair of familiar blue eyes. “You know, just because you’re a vampire and can move in silence, doesn’t mean you have to,” you scold the hybrid standing in your bedroom– back in his typical Henley and jeans. Your hand rests over your heart, willing it to recover from the scare.

He chuckles, amused by the oblivion of humans, “Ah, mortals. I forget how frightful you lot can be.” You roll your eyes at the Mikaelson, ignoring his apathetic statement. “What do you want, Klaus,” you harshly demand, tugging the towel closer to your body. He sighs, annoyed by your loitering emotions, “We’re still angry I see.”

“I am really not in the mood for this, so if you could kindly leave my house, that would be greatly appreciated.”

You turn your back on the hybrid, moving toward your dresser, hoping that he will be gone by the time you turn back around.

“I came here to apologize, love,” the Mikaelson admits, stilling your movements. If there was one thing you learned about Niklaus Mikaelson through all of the stories he shared, it was that he NEVER apologizes. “What,” you question, turning to face the hybrid, uncertain you heard him correctly.

“I’ve recently had a bit of a heart-to-heart and I realize that you are right.”

You sink to the foot of your bed– your brain having trouble processing the information it is being presented. “Okay,” you breathe, unsure of what else to say.

“I fancy you, Y/N.”

“Then why-”

“Caroline is just a mere distraction,” Klaus responds, having anticipated your next question, “You don’t live to be a thousand years old without acquiring a few enemies over the years. If anyone were to discover my feelings for you, they would use you as leverage. By devoting my attention to Caroline, she becomes the target while you remain safe. She means absolutely nothing to me.”

Silence hovers between the two of you as you analyze the gravity of this new information. All those nights you spent exchanging stories and laughing until sunrise were just as equally treasured by Klaus as by you. The flowers, the drawings, the jewelry, the little moments of silence, and the shared moments of vulnerability all were valued, all were cherished just as fondly. Your bond with the Original Hybrid had not been imagined, had not been one-sided. A smile graces your lips at this revelation. He cared for you– enough to put someone else’s life at risk. To parade around feigning love for someone so that you remained unharmed. Not only did that seem unfair to the girl, Caroline, but ironically idiotic for one of the most intelligent men you knew.

“Klaus, this has to be one of the stupidest things you have ever done,” you chuckle at the hybrid’s plan, “Rather than just confess your feelings for me, you opt to pretend to be in love with someone else so that I’m safe? You couldn’t have thought that would work.”

He frowns at your laughter– not expecting the conversation to go this way. In fact, this whole evening went rather unexpectedly for the Mikaelson. He had envisioned how the night was supposed to go, all everyone had to do was act accordingly. Now he is beginning to see not everyone is a pawn he can so easily move around.

“Yes, well, I had your safety in mind. The details were irrelevant.”

Your laughter echoes around the confines of your bedroom amused by his poor plan conceptualization. Klaus would be irritated by your laughter had it not become something he is obsessed with. And while you may think of his plan as silly and moronic, he knows how successful it was at keeping you safe, and that is all that mattered to him.

“I’m glad that you’re amused, love. May I be forgiven now?”

You smile up at Klaus unable to resist the charm of that smile. Walking towards the hybrid– the man that you adore– you bring your lips to his, finally fulfilling all of your fantasies. “I’ll consider that a yes,” the Mikaelson chuckles as you break away from the long-anticipated kiss.

"Put me through that again and I'll ram a stake so far up your-"

"Noted, love."

Taglist: @catmikaelson20 @jennyamanda8 (I couldn’t remember if you wanted to be tagged in all of my TVDU post or just Elijah. If just Elijah, let me know and I will remove you from the general taglist!) @tsukilover11 (Same with you. Let me know if you want to be removed from the general list!)

If you want to be a part of my taglist, please submit an ask and I will happily add you!

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scuderiasundays · 9 months

Text

dancing queen

summary: post-breakup reeling, a lizzy mcalpine cover, and flashbacks to slow dancing in the kitchen 💌

words: 618

a/n: this idea popped into my head on my commute and i just had to write it! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, and @diorleclerc just because. feedback appreciated as always. hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

When fatigue set in after a long day, the kitchen was your retreat. Although your body longed to collapse onto the couch the minute you walked through the door, the 2-for-1 avocados in the shop window had caught your eye. Your tense shoulders relaxed as you began to sauté some onions to go along with the avocados and some leftover salmon. The very act of cooking had fascinated you since childhood, the way the ingredients could start off one way and completely metamorphose at your hand.

As summer slowly ebbed towards its end, you found yourself reflecting on the year's pace – swift in its early months and achingly slow as of late. You turned to Siri, your trusty confidante, hoping to dial down the lights and prevent yourself from spiraling. She clearly didn’t get the memo as you began to hear the faint strumming of a guitar.

The truth is your world had been on mute since the breakup. Those who knew you well enough understood just how deeply you connected with music. In fact, your love for it was so profound that your girlfriends would frequently enlist your expertise when crafting playlists for various occasions, be it a night out on the town or navigating the rough waters of a midlife crisis.

The smallest smile crept onto your lips as you marveled at the irony of fate. Out of all the songs in the world Siri could have chosen, it just had to be the one you least desired to hear. In an instant, you found yourself transported to a memory of a night spent cooking alongside Carlos. Ever the optimist, it was he who had come up with the idea of making fresh pasta from scratch. The tasks were evenly divided between you two; you were in charge of prep and crafting the pasta, while Carlos was committed to whipping up his signature carbonara and doing the dishes.

"Are you absolutely sure you can't get a head start on the sauce?" you'd playfully inquired while Carlos settled onto a barstool opposite you.

"I quite enjoy watching you work your magic. I feel like Gordon Ramsay," he chuckled, inching closer. He reached for two slices of focaccia from the kitchen counter and placed them on either side of your head.

"What are you?" he quizzed, reenacting an iconic scene from one of the British chef's shows.

Without hesitation, you replied, "An idiot sandwich." Carlos burst into laughter. "That you are, mi amor, but you're my idiot sandwich."

The night wouldn't have been complete without a soundtrack, as the speakers hummed to life. "This one's my absolute favorite," you declared as a Lizzy McAlpine cover of "Dancing Queen" filled the air.

Carlos chimed in, "This is that ABBA song, no?" You nodded in agreement. The tempo was just right, and he extended his hand, a devilish smile gracing his lips.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, and just like that, he was spinning you around the kitchen, all while completely butchering the lyrics.

In his warm embrace, you couldn't help but let the dreamlike feeling wash over you. How could any of this be real? The fact that he had chosen you, that everything between you two felt so blissfully effortless—it was almost too good to be true.

A few months later, you were faced with the unsparing truth that your whirlwind romance had been nothing more than a fleeting, beautiful illusion. The worst part was he hadn't given you enough time or reason to truly fall out of love. The sting lingered, and as you crumbled to the kitchen floor, you could only hold onto the hope that time might one day dull the ache.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #carlos sainz fic #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz angst

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 9 months

Text

Part 5 - dare not preach

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

Masterlist Part 4

"And If I had the answers I'd have written them out so I could tell you what to do and what this thing is about. But all I've ever learned comes second-hand and I dare not preach what I don't understand." -Make A Move by Icon For Hire

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Content warning: briefly implied child abuse (Vlad is not a good guy by any definition),

Time was lost in between bouts of consciousness, flashes of pretty eyes and fire hair, soft muttering and gentle caresses against his skin soothing his aches.

Jason was caught between heaven and hell, wracked with agony behind his ribs one moment and healed with persistent warmth the next, a never ending cycle.

He wanted to scream.

One bout of semi-clarity was of some citrus concoction on his tongue, gentle murmurs of a woman by his ear before she kissed him again, forced something down his throat again.

He both loved and hated that woman. She felt familiar in a way that made his bat-honed paranoia rear its ugly head, the instinct to survive in his gut a heavy weight, but she brought him peace in the same moment she could damn him.

He caught his name once, his real name, spoken by her as he swallowed dutifully, a spike of want in his heart almost a welcome change from the pain by that point.

————————————————

Jazz spoke with the Lady frequently as the Red Hood, Jason, healed in her bed.

The elder spirit, regal in mannerisms and aura, demanded the Regent to aid this one vigilante, this one knight and Jazz had finally figured out why.

It was so obvious when she had all the puzzle pieces, the depth of occult knowledge both in her brain and at her disposal should have been her first resource used to dig deeper, but she’d allowed Danny and Frostbite to assume (and let her assume) that the Red Hood was an awakened Liminal who was recovering from corrupted Ecto in his system.

The Red Hood had been Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin- bright light of Gotham- and he’d been murdered by the Joker.

Unburied in my soil.

Jazz groaned in self-contempt as she paced the graveyard of Gotham’s Crime Alley. It was decrepit and uncared for, not like the higher class cemetery of Gotham proper where the Rich and powerful are buried. She what’s spent the better part of three days researching her new bedmate roommate once he’d been stabilized enough to be on a consistent schedule for ecto-infusion. He’d be unlikely to regain full consciousness for another month or so, but he would recover fully.

That was, if he understood what he had become in his near-fatal collapse.

(Thanks to Jazz and her rash actions.)

The Lady had been cryptic when speaking of Red Hood at first, but with his recovery and development of a strong proto-core Lady Gotham was eager to aid the Regent in making her once Robin adjust to a world-changing consequence once again.

(At least this time he would have support.)

Not only was Jason a Liminal with an indisputable death-claim, he had been a- a Revenant whose continued existence was a mind boggling happenstance of circumstance that was one in a infinite chance of ever happening again.

The Lady claimed him. The Lady gave a bit of herself to resurrect her bright Light, the one who shouldn’t have died so young, not while he deserved happiness for the hope he brought to so many.

(Damn it all.)

He clawed himself out of his own casket, to be found by Talia Al Ghul of all people… then survive the Lazarus Pits in body, with only Pit Madness to show for it?

(It was a callous way to think about it, but Jazz knew that it had also given him his freedom in many ways, that Jason wouldn’t have if he was still just a Revenant.)

(Did the Al Ghul know what she had found that night in dreary Gotham?)

(Was she aware she had given Jason Todd a third chance at life- however much of one being death-claimed by Lady Gotham could be called a life.)

The Lady, wistful once assured in the Regent’s anger having passed, swore an oath that Jason would never be forced to be a Knight again.

(Jazz reveled in the understanding that Batman, Bruce Wayne, was destined to be Gotham Knight for his mortal lifetime- possibly beyond.)

(Had he sworn his fealty by accident in his grief? Or had his donning that ridiculous gimmick been enough of a bind to tie his soul to the Lady?)

(Regardless, for his inaction, Jazz privately reveled in the satisfaction of the true consequences of his choices.)

Jazz, who’d been pacing a strict line in the uneven row of headstones, came to a rest at the grave of the once-Revenant who now lay in her bed.

Jason Todd

He’d been only a year older than her little brother when he’d been murdered by the Joker, buried under a name that was half-complete. He was a Wayne in life, but not in death? How hypocritical of the old bat, to not give him the courtesy of giving him the hyphenated last name if he wasn’t going to bury him in the Wayne cemetery.

What would it have been like if Danny had a grave, complete with a stone and inscription?

(The portal was his grave. He’d died there and the house was his graveyard.)

Would it have been up to Jazz to choose the words to describe her little light, the brightest star in the galaxy, the one reason she had for getting up in the morning… or would her parents have cremated him and put him on a shelf to prevent a corpse from ‘piloting’ his corpse?

(Jazz still had nightmares about Danny’s death scream. The portal ripping him apart in the same moment it fused him back together.)

(Into something different, something more.)

(He was her little brother, the same one who she spent her birthday money on to get those ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars.)

(They’d spent hours forming constellations on his ceiling.)

How does one paraphrase a life?

Would Jazz start with his name, his preferred name, or with his date of birth?

Would she put down ‘dearest brother’ or ‘missed’, ‘Be at peace’?

No. Jazz knew she’d give the most important pieces of what made her little brother the brightest star in the sky-

Danny, per aspera ad Astra.

Danny had an unconventional memorial tucked away in the remnants of the Fenton lab, underneath the debris of what was once a strange machine to a world unseen.

The portal was built into the wall with ample access space in the rear for intended maintenance, though it was not required once the portal was completed and functional.

Jazz left flowers for Danny in that maintenance space three days after she first saw his transformation, yellow tulips, though she didn’t know the impact the action would have later in life.

Once a month, Jazz would return to replace the dried flowers, dust away the cobwebs, close the door, rinse and repeat.

Christmas was particularly complicated in the Fenton household, but the first year of Danny’s half-life was the worst Jazz could recall up to that point.

It wasn’t the eerie lack of ghost attacks (thanks to her not knowing of the Truce then), or the winter storm being harsher than any other Amity Park had faced in previous years… No, it was that Danny had died, while nothing and everything changed.

Jack and Maddie still screamed their arguments about Santa Claus, loud and proud for the world to be privy to.

Jazz had extra tutoring to take up for Christmas presents.

Danny… Danny still had to fight a ghost.

Ghostwriter wasn’t a malicious ghost in nature, far from it in fact, but he was never a fan of her little brother.

Jazz overheard Danny tell his friends about his ‘storybook adventure’ and she had to sleep in the access space for the night, just so she didn’t wake anyone with her crying.

It wasn’t right.

That thought repeated on a never-ending loop in her head as she tucked her growing limbs into the cramped space, eyes shut tight and the darkness shrouding her in safety.

(That had been the first nightmare of her own death to come, fingers frantically searching for a pulse as she woke in the dark.)

Perhaps she should have never left that darkness.

Because then the anger that had been building inside of her would never have been unshackled after the release of the tyrant king.

Jazz had been a patient girl her entire life. It was a necessary evil when raised by scientists to follow in their footsteps, though she had no intention to make her life into any imitation of her negligent parents, she learned those lessons at the knee of Maddie Fenton, who had given her life to the pursuit of ecto-science.

(Built a very strange machine to a world unseen.)

When Jazz failed to achieve something, she observed and struck when the opportunity presented it. That’s how she’d survived ghost attacks for so long, escpecially when it was her own dinner- that and the ingrained knowledge to strike hard and quick when it was required. A paradox of a hunter and a hunted, but that was Jasmine Fenton’s upbringing in a nutshell.

Jasmine knew Vladimir Masters was a bigger predator than she was capable of hunting as a young girl.

(Jazz was just a little girl when Vlad became obsessed with her and her mom.)

(Only the dead truly knew what an older man could do to someone so much smaller.)

It was a waiting game that morphed as she grew, bones sturdy and teeth sharper as Ecto-contamination finally settled into her molecules- Death-claimed, Liminality. Vlad was a false halfa, just as he was a false friend to her parents and a false business man, but as long as he stayed out of her way in caring for her little brother than she would not destroy him.

(She was a patient hunter.)

Pariah Dark was the final crack.

(It needed somewhere to go, all that anger, all that rage.)

Jazz had been patrolling the outer limits of the ghost shield now that Amity was returned to the Living Realm, anxiety in her gut as Danny had yet to show from his battle against the tyrant king.

He had obviously won if they were all safe, right? The mech suit would boost him enough, but could it really kill what was already dead?

Hidden in the embrace of familiar shadows, Jazz witnessed Plasmius carrying an unconscious Danny over his shoulder and a…crown in his right hand.

Not only had the bastard released the King for the Crown of Fire, he’d damned them all for the same item he’d stolen in the aftermath.

Jazz’s next actions weren’t borne from Vengeance, they were unfiltered rage.

Vlad had died that night, Jazz believed wholeheartedly, he died before she locked him in his casket- a since soldered shut Fenton Thermos.

Thing was, Jazz didn’t recall what happened between them- all she could really remember when thinking of that time frame was a green haze that was so similar in color to the damned portal.

One moment, Plasmius had Danny and the Crown. The next, he was a beaten man in his human form with no rise and fall of his chest to convince Jazz he was alive.

Was it concerning? Of course. Jazz never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not in a blackout rage state.

(How times have changed.)

Would she ever mourn Vlad? No. He deserved a far worse fate than a second death.

(His sins were numerous.)

If his casket would later be given to Pandora, the trusted Mentor of the Boy King’s Regent…. Well, where better to keep a body hidden than with a Matriarch who understands the sins of man?

(Pandora had always believed in Jazz, the Regent’s soul was far too bright to be snuffed out without a war.)

Within the Infinite Realms, the Regent was called many things- titles that held little meaning to the one in question, but offered weight to her authority.

The Lady of the Acropolis, for her mentorship with Pandora and position of respect among the populace.

First Knight of the Star King, would be granted once her Regency was over and Danny was crowned. His epithet as ‘Star King’ was a beautiful homage of a lost dream.

Death-Claimed Champion.

It made the Regent grit her teeth when addressed as such, especially when she lived in Gotham presently- the city of Lady Gotham’s Knights… her Champions.

Jazz had survived to adulthood as a highly contaminated Liminal, no patron to claim as her- Not even Pandora counted even though they shared a teacher/student relationship.

Would Jason, Red Hood of the Alley, be able to handle managing his territory without the backing of a patron claim? The Lady did swear that the once-Revenant was no longer bound to her service, which meant he could pack up his gear forever if he wanted to.

Though that was highly doubtful.

Jason was a strong willed man to lay claim to his haunt so quickly and hold fast for so long. Jazz shared her haunt with Danny, but that was only because he was the powerful Halfa and future King. His Haunt would never be challenged by a competent opponent, not in Gotham at least.

Perhaps Jason would be willing to unite their haunts?

It was a common tradition for older ghosts to allow weaker ones to share their haunt for protection, but that didn’t translate well to the Death-Claimed.

(Jazz had a hunch that Jason was so in tune with his haunt that he instinctively knew when she or Danny stepped foot across his boundary.)

(They tried not to linger, out of respect of another’s haunt of course.)

Then again, Jason was the Baby Liminal between the two of them. Danny and Jazz should be offering him to share a haunt for protection.

(Jazz couldn’t help but wonder what Jason looked like as a child.)

(She would bet almost anything that he was an adorable kid.)

(Would their kids be so cute?)

There was a slight lilt of sadness that lingered over the daytime hero, Signal, that Danny almost choked on his Death Wish.

The coffee, that is.

Little late on the literal bit.

Gotham (city, not the Lady) was an ever-gloomy fruit basket full of ghastly vibes. You see it and you know you’re in for a bad time, but that’s typically at night.

So what was up with Sunshine Child?

Yeah, he was clearly human and allowed to have off days, duh, but for it to hang like a shroud of storm clouds over Sunny? Yeah, no. That shit needs to be gone, like yesterday.

“Hey, Sunshine!” Danny called out with a false cheer. It was too damn early in the morning for real cheer, are you mad, but Signal didn’t seem to notice as he approached the lawn chair the Halfa had decided would be his new throne.

(At least Jazz would find it funny.)

“Hi Danny. Can I help you with something?”

Danny took a loud sip of his coffee before he went straight for the throat, “You’re doom and gloom this morning, Sunny. Whose bones do I need ‘ta steal?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just…” the meta Hero trailed off, voice tired as he let himself relax for a moment in Danny’s presence.

(That’s right, Danny’s just a friendly civilian teenager with anger issues, right?)

(Oh he would be cackling at that lie when he had a moment to himself again.)

“My brother is missing.”

Danny blinked.

“Your brother? One of the birdies?” He tried very hard not to pull out any of his jokes about traffic lights and Stabby Robin, but at least he didn’t sound condescending?

“Sorta. Red Hood… he went off grid about a week and a half ago.”

(Yeah this isn’t something Danny should be privy to.)

(Like at all.)

(It’s not like he was housing the guy in his home right?)

(Oh wait.)

“Yikes, Sunny. That sucks, ‘m sorry.”

Signal sighed, “Yeah, thanks Danny.” He paused again, studying the canonical adoption bait that was Danny Fenton before he dropped a bombshell.

“Batman thinks he’s dead.”

(Danny almost cackled in manic glee at that statement.)

(Overshot the mark there, Bats. Yikes.)

Danny happily waved goodbye to his meta friend, a dorky salute with his coffee cup in commersiation of a shitty hour of the day to be awake, before he leaned back in his lawn chair and yawned.

“Oh, what drama. Jazz is gonna kill me all the way if she finds out.” He said out loud to no one in particular. The occasional shade that kept him company didn’t bother to move at the sound of his voice now that Signal had left, but it did let out a mournful trill that made Dannny chuckle.

“Yeah, yep, you’re right- when, when, Jazz finds out.” Danny laughed again, “Worth it.”

A/N:

Yeah, I wasn't expecting so much angst either, but apparently, that's my jam, because I literally cannot write anything else. Well, anything that doesn't sound like two robots trying to mimic humans at least.

This was supposed to be a more upbeat entry and look how epically I failed. I had to put a content warning up top because I wrote/heavily implied that Jazz was abused by Vlad due to his obsession with Maddie.

In other news, I have a playlist now for what songs I listen to while writing this. It's called 'Guns & Sword: Jazz on' 'cause 2am me thinks she's clever.

#dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #regent!jazz #jazz fenton #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #ooh angst #*points at Jazz* this badass can hold so much angst #some character building for Jazz #I swear I try writing dialogue and I choke.#How did i never learn to write dialogue properly?

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gong-fourz · 2 months

Text

Happily Ever After

Pairing: nonidol!Jay x fem!reader Summary: In the heart of the magical kingdom, where dreams come true. Jay had orchestrated a secret adventure. As you strolled the enchanted streets, your heart skipped a beat when you realized the grandeur of his surprise. WC: 744 Genre: fluff

taglist - m.list

I had always dreamed of going to Disneyland, ever since I was a little girl. The magical kingdom, the thrilling rides, and of course, the enchanting castle. But as I grew older, the idea of visiting the happiest place on earth seemed like a distant dream. That is until my boyfriend, Jay, surprised me with a trip to Disneyland. It was a normal Saturday afternoon when Jay showed up at my door, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I could sense that he was up to something, but I had no idea what it could be. He grabbed my hand and led me to his car, blindfolding me before I could even ask any questions. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally arrived at our destination. I could hear the sound of people laughing and the familiar tune of Disney songs. Jay guided me through the park, describing everything we passed by in great detail. I could feel the excitement bubbling inside me, and I couldn't wait to see what he had planned. Finally, Jay stopped and removed the blindfold. I was standing in front of the iconic Disneyland castle, adorned with colorful lights and decorations. Tears welled up in my eyes as I took in the sight, and I turned to Jay, who was beaming with pride. 'Surprise!' he exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug. I couldn't believe it. My dream was finally coming true, and I had my amazing boyfriend to thank for it. We spent the whole day exploring the park, going on rides, and indulging in all the delicious treats Disneyland had to offer. It was the most magical day of my life, and I couldn't have asked for a better person to share it with. As the sun began to set, Jay took me to a quiet spot by the lake, where we sat down on a bench and watched the fireworks display. It was the perfect end to a perfect day. But little did I know, Wo had one more surprise up his sleeve. As the last firework burst in the sky, Jay got down on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand. My heart stopped beating as he opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring. 'Y/N, you are my everything. I have loved you since the moment I met you, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Will you marry me?' Jay asked, his voice trembling with emotion. Tears of joy streamed down my face as I nodded vigorously, unable to find the words to express how I felt. Jay slipped the ring on my finger, and we shared a passionate kiss, surrounded by the magical ambiance of Disneyland. The next few months were a blur of wedding planning and excitement. Jay and I decided to have a small, intimate wedding at Disneyland, as it held a special place in our hearts. We invited our closest friends and family, and they were just as thrilled as we were. On the day of our wedding, I couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't believe that I was getting married to my best friend, my soulmate, my everything. As I walked down the aisle towards Jay, I could see the love and adoration in his eyes, and I knew that I was the luckiest girl in the world. The ceremony was beautiful, and as we exchanged our vows, I couldn't help but think about how far we had come. From our first date to this moment, Jay had been my rock, my support system, and my biggest cheerleader. I couldn't imagine my life without him. As we danced our first dance as husband and wife, I knew that this was just the beginning of our happily ever after. And as we watched the fireworks light up the night sky, I whispered to Jay, 'Thank you for making all my dreams come true.' He smiled and pulled me closer, whispering back, 'No, thank you for making my life a fairytale.' From that day on, we returned to Disneyland every year to celebrate our anniversary. And every time we walked through the gates, we were reminded of the magical day when Jay surprised me with a trip to Disneyland and ended up proposing. It was a moment that I would cherish forever, and I couldn't wait to create more memories with my beloved husband in the happiest place on earth.

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen jay #jay x reader #enhypen imagines #park jongseong #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enha x reader #enha fluff #enhypen jake #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen niki #enhypen

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alwritey-aphrodite · 5 months

Note

i’m so sorry hun i’m new here and i think i did this wrong!!so love note-resting your head on your partner's lap with sejanus plz?? xoxo

If you were the anon message with the same prompt then you didn’t do anything wrong, so no worries!! Also, I love your icon <3

Sharing rooms and beds and houses with your cousins, you were used to a little bit of chaos, no matter the time of day. The Covey were a musical group, which only made their yelling and fighting and screeching even louder. It seemed to have settled down as you all continued to grow and get older, but now the fights and spats were over dresses and instruments instead of toys.

The love you had for your little family was unmatched, but sometimes you needed a little bit of a break from being with them at all hours of the day, no matter where you went. You’d taken to wandering around District Twelve, spending a few hours in the well trodden paths in the woods, knowing no one would bother you.

Until, one day, someone did.

You can hear him before you see him, branches cracking under his step, rocks shifting beneath his heavy boots, the gentle humming of some song long forgotten. Without even seeing him, you know the boy you’ll find when you venture farther down the path, so you call out to him to save him the shock of your silent approach.

“Sejanus? What’re you doing all the way out here?” You ask, trying to cover your concern with a teasing tilt. He still startles, a sharp intake of breath as he turns towards your voice, shoulders relaxing when he recognizes you.

“Just needed to clear my head,” he says, and you hum in response, wandering through the woods for the very same reason.

“I know just the place for that,” you tell him, turning from your original path to lead him to an alcove, a quiet little clearing that you’re certain Lucy Gray discovered and no one besides you and the rest of the Covey know exists.

The rest of your walk is silent with the exception of the birds fluttering overhead and Sejanus’s breathing behind you, the path too narrow for you to walk side by side and the boy reluctant to step on anything. You find yourself smiling when you imagine his regret on crushing a flower beneath his heavy boots, and you wonder why someone as gentle as him would become a peacekeeper.

Slowing to a stop, Sejanus bumps against your back, almost knocking you to the ground but quick to keep you upright, spewing apologies as you laugh and steady yourself.

“Here we are,” you tell him, walking towards the fallen log you and Lucy Gray had fashioned into a bench months ago, before she had been reaped.

“It’s pretty,” he says as he sits next to you, gazing out at the rolling fields and the glistening sun. It’s a beauty like no other, land untouched by man, and it brings a certain sense of peace you can’t find anywhere else, even in the depths of the woods.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, until you talk for hours and hours, swapping stories and sharing your experiences. While he doesn’t understand, he sympathies, and you find yourself feeling lighter with every story you share, your heart aching as Sejanus tells his own tale. He’s such a sweet, gentle soul, you ache to think of anything bad happening to him, no matter how much you yourself have suffered.

He tells you about his childhood in District Two, about his time spent in the Capital, about his parents and Coriolanus and Marcus, about his dreams of being a medic and his reasons for following his only friend all the way to District Twelve.

Eventually, the sun sets and the stars emerge, the night perfect and cloudless and a deep navy. You’re not sure how it happens, too distracted by the sky to notice that Sejanus has grown quiet, and suddenly his head is in your lap, chest rising and falling as he drifts to sleep. You hesitate, unsure of what you should do but reluctant to wake him when he finally looks so peaceful. Your hand finds his head, rasping over his shorn curls, lulling him to sleep instead of waking him.

No one knows these parts of the woods, no one knows this clearing exists, so you let yourself lean against the tree behind you and close your eyes, Sejanus’s head warm on your thighs and your hand dancing over his scalp, relaxing the both of you as you drift off the sleep.

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