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jelliedink · 28 days

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Little Revenge

Warnings: smut, cheating!, pet names, older man/younger woman, boss/employee, power dynamic Picture is not mine. Divider by @thecutestgrotto

“You’ve fucked your wife thinking about me before, haven’t you?”

Your boss, with whom you’ve been chatting for the past hour, nearly choked on his drink.

“Excuse me, but where did that come from?”

It wasn’t the smoothest delivery, but you just couldn’t think of a better way of introducing the topic and you were afraid of losing the courage to do so. You’ve been babysitting his daughters sporadically for almost 2 years now, as you did with many other children in your university campus’ neighborhood. Everything was fine until about 8 months ago, when his work schedule became flexible enough to allow him to always spend some time in the house most of the days you were there. Before this you dealt almost exclusively with his wife, meeting her at the start and the end of every shift. Since this change, though, Ian was the one you spoke the most to.

At first, you didn’t mind it. It was quite nice, actually. Ian was reliable, pleasant and seemed to genuinely care for you. When with you he was always trying to lift the mood, asking about how things were going in your life and offering advice.

But then he seemed way too interested in you, and his wife, previously sweet and warm towards you, became increasingly harsher and nitpicky.

“I have a theory for what the real reason why Mrs Allen fired me is. When you started staying at home I didn’t think too much of it, but it became difficult to believe you were just being hospitable as you gradually increased the frequency in which you inquired me about my love life and found excuses to touch me in ways that would make your wife fire me on the spot if she saw.”

Ian’s charming face changed its expression from its typical amicable neutrality to a condescending look.

“Darling, I think we have a great misunderstanding here.”

Your heart started beating faster, the voice in your head that said you got it all wrong getting louder by the minute. But now there was nowhere to go but forward.

“Mr Allen, I’m not mad at you. I’m actually kind of flattered, you know? To have an attractive and successful man such as yourself look at me in that way. I’m mad because I can’t get other jobs in the neighborhood because, as told by some of the other nannies, Mrs Allen has been warning all the mothers about her shameless babysitter that appears to be trying to sleep with her husband.”

His face didn’t change.

“I’m sincerely sorry about that, and rest assured you’ll be compensated for the trouble my wife’s actions brought you, but I still can’t see how that led you to such an unusual question.”

“Are you really not going to drop the act?” His insistent denial made you so nervous you felt almost dizzy. What if you were making a fool of yourself? “That’s a shame, really, because I was looking forward to letting you know how the real thing feels.”

Upon hearing this last statement, Ian confusion and disbelief flashed through his face, breaking the mask for a moment. Then his eyes filled with amusement as he answered you.

“My dear, aren’t you something?”

He got up from where he was sitting to get closer to you, squatting down in front of your seat in order to bring his face to your level. His initial defensiveness seemed to almost disappear, curiosity replacing it as he questioned you, eyebrows raised:

“Aren’t you afraid of the consequences in case you turn out to be incorrect?”

You were. But you also knew your reputation was already unsalvageable, so you didn’t see how it could get any worse.

“It’s not like anyone is going to believe me, so I have nothing to lose anymore, I thought I might as well try and get something positive out of this whole situation.”

He let out a hum of acknowledgement and stayed silent for a while, his eyes fixed on you while trying to decide if you were telling the truth or if it was some sort of elaborate joke. Seeing that he was not yet fully convinced, you decided to face his gaze and say something you thought would help him make a favorable decision.

“You know, I’ve only been with guys my age before and it has been really disappointing. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t secretly hoping for you to show me what a real man feels like.”

Ian let out a loud, amused laugh at your flirting attempt. His lips were still curled when his hands touched your chin.

“And to think I’ve been chastising myself for feeling attracted to the young, innocent little thing I thought you were.” He let out a series of “tsk”, feigning disappointment at you. “I feel tempted to take up your offer, missy, but I have a condition.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll do exactly as I say and, once we start, I’m not going to stop. So, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.” You nodded almost immediately. “But I have a condition of my own, too.

His eyes filled with curiosity.

“Oh, do you, kitten? And what is it?”

“Fuck me in the master bedroom. I want to have the satisfaction of knowing your wife will be sleeping in the same bed you fucked me in.”

Your request caught him by surprise, making him look at you with a mix of disbelief and delight.

“My, my, how did such a petty little devil make her way into my peaceful home? Alright, I can do that for you.” He closed the distance between your faces in a kiss, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and the other behind your knees. “Up we go.”

You hid your face in the crook of his neck while he carried you, unsure of what to do next, until he laid you on the bed.

“Here we are, sweetheart. I must admit, I thought you were smarter than this.” The condescending tone came back while he gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. “Lucky me.”

He didn’t give you time to fully understand what he said before he kissed you firmly. It didn’t take long until you were straddling him, his hands traveling through your body, eventually finding their way under your dress. For a moment it felt like he was looking for something on your bare skin, until he broke the string of kisses and looked at you with a grin.

“Of course you’re not wearing underwear.”

“In case you needed more convincing.” You answered, suddenly self-conscious of that decision.

“So you were that determined to be my little whore today? What a naughty kitten we have here.”

He immediately started kissing down your neck while you clumsily palmed his abdomen through the polo shirt he was wearing. He took it off right after helping you get out of your dress, and then leaned back for a moment to admire your naked figure with hunger in his eyes.

“Oh, pretty, you look just right.” His hands ran through your upper body, eventually fondling your breasts. “The perfect little toy.”

His mouth joined your body once again, leaving kisses all around your collarbone and chest while your hands tugged lightly at his hair. You moved your hips, trying to find the perfect spot to grind on top of his clothed cock, and you felt him smile when he noticed what you were doing.

“So desperate, grinding on me like you were in heat. Let me see how needy you are.”

One of his hands traveled to your pussy, and he groaned the moment he felt how wet you were. Then he started alternating between slowly rubbing your clit and moving his fingers through the whole length of your cunt, parting your lips and teasing to enter you, only to slide back again. The whole time his eyes were glued on your face, watching your expressions change as he toyed with you. You were way too turned on to feel shy at his gaze.

“Ian, just fuck me already.”

“Of course you do, kitten. But first you’re going to put on a little show for me, ok?” He took his now soaked fingers back to your entrance. “Daddy’s going to curl his fingers up and you’re going to fuck yourself in them.”

“Haven’t you teased me enough already?” you whined, frustrated.

“Princess, you were the one who asked me to show you what it's like to be with a real man. You thought I’d just pound my dick into you mindlessly like the guys your age?” He brought his torso near you and nuzzled his face on your neck, speaking into your ears. “No, pretty. We’re going to be here for a while.”

Then he leaned back again, curling his fingers as he said he would.

“Now be the good, obedient girl I know you are and fuck yourself on my hand, ok? Don’t make me ask again.”

You obeyed, placing your hands on his shoulders to support yourself while your hips moved up and down, his fingers sliding in and out of your cunt with ease from how slippery you were.

“Ian…” You started, after a while, panting and almost breathless. “Please, I need to ride you.”

“‘Need’ is a strong word, kitten. I’m having so much fun watching you act like a horny pet for me.”

“Please.”

“Shhhh…” He shushed you, stuffing your mouth with the same fingers you were riding. “You’re talking way too much for a pet. Be a good kitten and lick my hand clean.”

You sucked and licked all of your slick off his fingers, not breaking eye contact. When you finished he connected your lips again, this time with a kiss that seemed like he wanted to devour you.

“Such a tasty pussy. I’d eat it for hours if you weren’t so needy. Lay on your back for me.”

As you did so he finished undressing himself, hovering on top of you immediately after, one of his hands caressing your tights and propping you to lift it up to his waist.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll give you what you want this time.” You let out a loud, obscene moan at the feeling of the head of his dick running across your cunt. “I’m going to fuck your pussy now, ok?”

“Mhmmm.”

He forced all of his dick into you at once, groaning a low “fuck” when he bottomed out. His dick was not that long but the girth felt good. You dug your nails in his back as he started moving his hips, skillfully rolling them towards you while kissing you once more.

“If I knew that little warm cunt felt this good I’d have taken you sooner.” He muttered at your mouth, along with a string of swear words you never thought you would hear from his mouth. “God, listen how fucking wet you are.”

You couldn’t say anything at first, his rhythm leaving you breathless and unable to make any other noise other than pants and moans. But when your cunt adjusted to his size, you started pleading for him to go deeper.

When he heard you, he stopped for a moment to grab a pillow and place it under your lower back, wasting no time sliding back in when you found a good position.

“Better now?”

“Fucking yes.”

It felt better for him too, and it didn’t take too long before his pace started to get frantic. Then you placed one of your hands on your clit and started rubbing it, moaning even louder at the added stimulation. He moved his lips to your ears and started praising you when he noticed this, saying how pretty you looked stuffed with him, how cute your moans were, how perfect your pussy felt. You felt your orgasm approaching even quicker.

After you came your arms went limp, barely holding Ian as he came inside you. He then kissed you one last time before falling by your side, both of you catching their breaths. His arms pulled you closer to him, and you laid your head on his chest until he decided to break the silence.

“You are a diamond. You did so, so well”

“The best fuck you’ve had in months?”

He laughed loudly before giving you a peck in the forehead and answering your question.

“You truly are a little devil, aren’t you? But how do you feel?”

“Great. A little ashamed, to be honest, but great.”

He gave your forehead another peck.

“Don’t worry about it, my darling. That was also not my wisest decision, but I enjoyed it very much.”

You hummed and snuggled in his chest even more, unsure on what to do next. Thankfully, it felt like he knew exactly what was going through your mind.

“Here’s what is going to happen now: we’ll take a bath and eat because no man in their right mind would send a woman home like this. Then, you’ll get to decide if you want to go home after accomplishing your little revenge or if you prefer to spend the weekend with me in the lake house and not have to worry about your bills for a very long time.”

You looked at him, eyes wide with surprise.

“Are you trying to buy me?”

“I’m willing to pay very well for it. But you don’t have to answer me now.”

He started getting out of the bed to prepare a bath, and once it was ready he came back to the room to take you there. When he took you in his arms again you materialized a thought that had appeared.

“I know it sounds silly now, but even though I’m tempted to spend the weekend with you, we’d have to stop by my house for me to get some clothes.”

Hearing this his mouth opened in the most mischievous grin.

“Don’t worry about it, kitten. My wife has a whole closet there for me to fuck you in.”

#dilf x reader #oc x reader #older man younger woman #older men do it better #smut #female reader #reader insert #fem reader #boss x reader #boss x employee

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criminalamnesia · 1 year

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This is me trying

summary: the last time you saw Nikolai, he told you he never wanted to see you again. now, you’re standing outside his door.

warnings: angst, brief mentions of torture (not explicit), reader is manipulated by the darkling, tidemaker!reader, not proofread, gender neutral reader

author’s note: me? writing more Nikolai while listening to Taylor swift? it’s more likely than you think. this one was inspired by “this is me trying.” listen to it while reading for the full experience :))

The last time you had seen Nikolai, he had told you he never wanted to see you again.

Now, here you are, standing in front of the door to his quarters. You would laugh if you weren’t so terrified of how he was going to react.

Would he still be mad? Would he scream at you, tell at you to get out? No, you thought. He wouldn’t do that.

But maybe time had changed him. He had still been a wild prince when you had last seen him– taking careless risks and throwing himself to the front of every battle. He had inspired you to be better– and you had been, for a time, but you weren’t Nikolai.

You did not have his heart. You did not have his resilience or kindness or grace. You were a burnt-out grisha who had abandoned her post. You were an outcast, a deserter, a failure.

Would he see that?

You inhaled deeply, your fist raised to knock. It hovered above the white wood of the door, shaking slightly. You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to knock. Your fist did not move.

“What are you doing?”

The sound of Nikolai’s voice had startled you, causing the bubble of water you’d been manipulating to pop. You groaned as it fell in droplets back into the lake.

“Saints, Nikolai, when did you get so quiet?” You huffed, lowering your outstretched hands and turning around to face him.

He was still in his First Army attire. He must’ve just gotten back from whatever front he’d been at this time– probably the northern. The Fjerdans had been causing problems lately.

“I was quite loud, actually. Maybe you were just too focused on your bubble.” He grinned, opening his arms to you. You rolled your eyes, stepping forward and into his embrace.

He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. You gave a breathless laugh at his strength.

“I’m happy to see you too, Nik. But you’re going to squeeze me to death–” you said, earning a laugh from him before he mercifully dropped his arms.

You stepped back, giving him a wide smile. He smiled in return, looking you up and down. “New Kefta?” He questioned.

You nodded, subconsciously tugging at one of your sleeves. “The Fabrikators have been trying to incorporate stronger material into the Keftas to make them more protective. Guess I’m lucky they’re doing it now,” you gave a small laugh, but it wasn’t joyful.

Nikolai frowned, his eyebrows raising in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You inhaled, glancing at his face before looking down to your hands. Your hands, which held so much power. Your hands, that would soon be stained with blood.

“The General is sending some of the Second Army up to the northern front. The Fjerdan witch hunters have been abducting the grisha stationed there. He wants us to go put an end to it.”

Nikolai slowly shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. I was just up there– we didn’t hear about any of that.”

“This is a grisha matter, Nik. The General thought it best for it to stay within the Little Palace. I shouldn’t even be telling you.”

“So he’s sending you up there?” Nikolai scoffed. “To what, be abducted like the rest? He should be sending his heartrenders–”

“Nikolai, this may be hard for you to hear, but I’m not who I was when you left. You’ve been gone for months. My abilities have grown– the General is impressed with my skills. This is a chance to show him he wasn’t wrong in showing me favor.”

“So, what, you’re one of his henchmen now? You know what happens to the grisha he ‘favors’–”

“I don’t want to talk about this any more, Nikolai.” You interrupted, holding up a hand. You knew he was right. You knew about Genya. About Zoya. About all the other grisha the Darkling took a shining too. But the Darkling’s favor came with better training, higher status. It made you stronger.

You knew you had to tread carefully, but you were tired of watching Nikolai ride off to battle and doing nothing about it. Now, you could help your prince and your country with your powers, and if Nikolai didn’t understand that, then so be it.

Before he could speak again, you continued. “I’m supposed to be at the stables now, anyway. We’re leaving soon. I don’t know when I’ll be back,” you admitted, meeting Nikolai’s gaze. “We can talk about it when I return.”

He swallowed his protests and nodded. “Good luck, then.”

You could hear movement behind the heavy wooden doors. Even at this late hour, Nikolai was still awake. It didn’t surprise you– he had always been a night owl, even when you were children.

You used to sneak away from the Little Palace in the middle of the night and meet Nikolai wherever you could. The gardens, the kitchens, the lake. The pair of you would always make it a challenge to see who could stay up longer, wanting to spend as much time together as you could before sleep took you. Nikolai always won.

You took another deep breath. You had foolishly hoped that he would be asleep– even though you knew he wouldn’t be– so you could have an excuse as to why you didn’t come to see him.

You knew he had to know you were here. Someone had to have told him– probably one of the heartrender twins. They had been keeping a watchful eye on you since you had arrived, and you couldn’t quite blame them.

Perhaps Alina had told him. Even though there was no way she could know your past with Nikolai, maybe she had mentioned who she was traveling with to him. You knew he couldn’t forget you, wouldn’t forget you– just like you with him.

You returned from the northern border a month later, and Nikolai barely recognized you.

You were different– and that, he understood. Battle changed even the best of people. But what happened to you, whatever it was, had made you someone different. Someone colder, darker.

He had heard whispers of what had happened to you up there. You refused to talk to him about it– when you talked to him at all. It was hard to get a word in with you seeing as you were constantly training, or right under the Darkling’s nose.

What you had done, what you had seen, Nikolai couldn’t imagine. The servants that went between the Little and Grand Palaces whispered. They said only about half of the grisha sent to the front came back, you amongst them. They said unspeakable things had happened there– the witch hunters had tortured your fellow grisha– even you.

They said you had drained the life from the men that did that to you and the other grisha, leaving them a deflated heap on the snowy ground– and even when they begged for mercy, you did not stop.

You continued to be sent out after that. The Darkling sent you wherever he could– the border of Shu-Han, on an expedition to Ketterdam, right into Fjerda to rescue taken grisha. Each time you returned, you lost more of yourself. You spoke less to Nikolai.

He was worried, and who wouldn’t be? His best friend had become someone– something unrecognizable. He finally cornered you one day before he was to leave on a journey to Kerch. Little did his family know that he was actually going to begin another escapade as Sturmhond.

“You need to come with me,” he had told you, one of his hands reaching forward to grasp yours. The pair of you were hidden away in the cluster of trees by the lake. You were supposed to be leaving soon for another assignment. Nikolai should’ve already been gone, but he couldn’t leave without seeing you.

You glanced down at his hands on yours. You looked back up at him, his expression pleading as his eyes all but begged you. You only shook your head.

“The General needs me. I’m leaving for Ketterdam in the morning.” You said, and Nikolai shook his head.

“Please, listen to me. The General is destroying you– I’ve heard the stories. You’re someone your younger self would’ve been terrified of,” he frowned, squeezing your hands.

“I’m stronger,” you replied. “And i’m fulfilling my purpose– just as you did. You went off with the First Army, and now I’m doing the same with the Second. I’m fighting for Ravka– for grisha– and I’m someone the General trusts. He isn’t destroying me, Nikolai. I won’t let him.”

“He has blinded you. He has made you powerful, yes, but he’s made you cold. Dark. Remember when we used to meet in the garden at night? When we talked about everything. When it was just us.” He said, and you nodded. “You told me once that you didn’t want to be another one of his pawns. That you would never let yourself fall for his honeyed words.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you pulled your hands from Nikolai’s grasp. “And I’ve kept my word. I haven’t,” you said through your teeth, almost as if you were fighting to convince yourself you were right.

“You have. He’s put you on a pedestal, made you someone you never should’ve become. He’s a monster, and he’s making–”

You gave a humorless laugh, cutting him off. “He’s making me a monster? Is he?” You said, crossing your arms. “He’s given me what I need to do what I need to do. If that makes me a monster, so be it.”

“And those witch hunters you killed, what you did to them– that wasn’t monstrous?”

“That was deserved,” you said. Nikolai took a step back.

“You know that it wasn’t. You’re not that kind of person.”

“You don’t know what they do,” you spat, arms falling to your sides, fists clenched in anger. “You didn’t see what I saw. You played Prince in the first army, when the worst thing that happens is a shot to the shoulder. I watched them,” your voice wavered slightly. “I watched them burn my friends alive. Feed them to their wolves. All of my friends– their screams are etched into my memory. Those Fjerdans deserved worse than what I did,” you spat. “And I’d do it over and over again. And if you can’t understand that, then you need to leave, Nikolai.”

“I’ve seen horrors, too. It’s not a contest,” he spoke, his brows furrowed. “But I didn’t let it do to me what it’s done to you.”

“No, of course not.” You said. “The second son, forever trying to prove he’s not just a bastard.”

You instantly regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, but it was too late to take them back. Nikolai gave a short nod, his hands moving to straighten his shirt.

“This time, when you leave,” he said, his gaze boring into you. “Don’t let me see you again if you come back.”

More movement could be heard behind the door. You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you dropped your fist. You couldn’t face him. It had been a few years, but you were sure he remembered your last conversation all to well. He wouldn’t want to see you.

Even though you had spent every day since deserting the Second Army regretting your last words to him, regretting what you had become, wishing you could see Nikolai again, you were still scared to knock.

You had been awful, and he had been right. The Darkling had manipulated you, just like he had with Genya. With Zoya. With Alina. You just another girl who fell for his manipulation and his lies– who allowed him to make you into something you hated. He had turned a blind eye at your suffering. He used your powers for his own agenda. He had lied, had abused you– and you had ruined the best thing you had had because of his influence.

You didn’t know if Nikolai was aware that when you left for Ketterdam, you never came back to Ravka. You had deserted the Second Army after that assignment, after seeing things you would never be able to wipe from your memory.

And while you were running from place to place, hiding from Kerch slavers or Shu-Han experimenters or Fjerdan witch hunters, you realized that Nikolai was right. Your powers had gone from a comfort to a reminder of the terrible things you had done. You were no longer the General’s star pupil, no longer that naive little tidemaker that snuck away in the middle of the night to watch the stars with the Prince.

You were tired, and in the midst of trying to piece yourself back together from everything you had suffered over the years, you had been roped into helping the Sun Summoner. Perhaps you had agreed to help her to atone– to try and forgive yourself. To begin righting your wrongs.

And now you were standing in the Grand Palace, a place you’d never thought you’d see again– standing outside of your once-friend’s quarters.

“Saints,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head to try and disperse the anxious thoughts crowding it. “Why is this harder than battle?”

You raised your hand again, and finally, you knocked.

Nothing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Nikolai must’ve gone to sleep–

The doors creaked opened to reveal the prince, his blond hair tousled– probably from running his hands through it as he thought (it was a nervous tick of his)– and his eyes tired.

You dropped your hand to your side as Nikolai looked you up and down.

“You’re alive,” he breathed, his eyes meeting yours. You gave a small nod.

Maybe no one told him of your arrival, after all.

“Saints,” he gave a small chuckle, stepping into the hallway. “You’re alive!”

He engulfed you in a hug, his arms squeezing you like they had so many times in the past.

“Hey, Nik,” you breathed, a small smile creeping onto your lips.

“I missed you, too.”

And those words held more weight than he would ever know.

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hollowed-theory-hall · 19 days

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Any HC's on what's going on with Luna?

Hi, so I really like Luna as a character, and I've seen various theories about her being a seer, which at least used to be popular in fic, but I never got that impression from her. Personally, I don't think there's anything magical going on with Luna. I think she's just a girl with imagination, a sense of whimsy, and some trauma of her own who chose to handle it through her internal little world rather than anger and other more externalized ways to cope.

So, this kinda ended up being a bit of a character study on Luna...

Pandora Lovegood & Luna's Trauma

One of the major moments in Luna's life that really changed her worldview and approach to people and the world was her mother's death:

“Have you . . .” he began. “I mean, who . . . has anyone you’ve known ever died?” “Yes,” said Luna simply, “my mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine.” “I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled. “Yes, it was rather horrible,” said Luna conversationally. “I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?” “Er — isn’t it?” said Harry uncertainly. She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You heard them, just behind the veil, didn’t you?” “You mean . . .” “In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that’s all. You heard them.”

(OotP, 863)

I want to talk about her mother, her death, and Luna's general outlook on death and tragedy which explains a lot of her characters.

So Pandora Lovegood experimented with spells and one went badly enough to kill her in front of her 9-year-old daughter. This is why Luna can see Thestrals and hear voices from beyond the veil like Harry and Neville. But Luna, at her soul is an optimist and a very brave one at that. This is something that she doesn't share with her father, which I'd get to, so I think her outlook on life and death is actually something she learned from her mother.

Luna prefers to look at the half-full part of the glass. She is choosing not to get too sad over things or bothered over her bullying (which I'll get to). The main point is that Luna's way of dealing with the hardship and trauma of watching her mother die is to feel the sadness of it, but not let herself wallow in it. She keeps pushing herself forward.

I headcanon Luna took her mother's death to embrace her mother's outlook on life. That things will always be fine, that they'd always work out. I don't think Luna knows for certain everything will be fine, but she chooses to believe it will be and you see it with her later in the books as well.

“I was saying, what are those horse things?” Harry said, as he, Ron, and Luna made for the carriage in which Hermione and Ginny were already sitting. [...] “It’s all right,” said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach’s dark interior. “You’re not going mad or anything. I can see them too.” “Can you?” said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide, silvery eyes. “Oh yes,” said Luna, “I’ve been able to see them ever since my first day here. They’ve always pulled the carriages. Don’t worry. You’re just as sane as I am.” Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her.

(OotP, 198-199)

Again, this shows her way of dealing with death and loss that ended up helping Harry. She sees the Thestrals and instead of being discomforted by them and the loss they remind her of (like Neville and Theodore Nott), she tries to smile, to take comfort in the reminder of her mother. "It's sad that she's dead, but it's okay, things will be okay", it's not a direct quote, but I feel it summarises Luna's outlook on loss and negative life experiences in general.

Xenophilius and the Quibbler

As I mentioned above, Xenophilius is much less brave and optimistic than Luna, hence why I think she learned her positive outlook from Pandora and not him:

Xenophilius gulped. He seemed to be steeling himself. Finally, he said in a shaky voice difficult to hear over the noise of the printing press, “Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She . . . she will like to see you. I’ll go and call her and then—very well. I shall try to help you.” He disappeared down the spiral staircase and they heard the front door open and close. They looked at each other. “Cowardly old wart,” said Ron. “Luna’s got ten times his guts.”

(DH, 347)

I understand him, I really do. He lost his wife, and his daughter is all he has, of course, he's scared of helping Harry. He doesn't want to lose Luna too. But, I headcanon Pandora was like Luna in that regard. She wouldn't have let fear stop her. I mean, she had to be brave to experiment with the kind of dangerous spells that'll kill her.

The other thing I want to note about Xenophilius and Luna is how close they seem to be whenever we see them:

Bidding the wizards farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her finger and said, “Daddy, look—one of the gnomes actually bit me!” “How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. “Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today—perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish—do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!”

(DH, 124)

They seem very affectionate and close, both with words and I'm sure also physical affection. Luna even mentions she still has her dad when she explains how she handles her mother's loss. I think both of them grew closer and more dependent on each other after Pandora's death. And I think that's what really pulled them both through it. Each other.

I write about it more later in this post, but Luna tends to comfort a lot of characters. Hermione, Ollivanders, Harry, and I think the first person she practiced this with was her father. She is a very empathetic person and she watched loss affect her father first-hand. I think, that after they lost Pandora, Luna did more of the heavy lifting in terms of emotional comfort rather than Xenophilius, who was probably a bit of a wreck.

Now, the third major thing I think Luna learned from her father is his various odd beliefs. To name a few Quibbler article titles from the beginning of OotP:

How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts?

CORRUPTION IN THE QUIDDITCH LEAGUE: How the Tornados Are Taking Control

SIRIUS - Black As He’s Painted? Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?

We all know they have some odd ideas, and are both very convinced of them. Luna never strays in her belief in the things her father writes about:

Yes, he’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna solemnly. “No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione. “Yes, he has,” said Luna. “What are heliopaths?” asked Neville, looking blank. “They’re spirits of fire,” said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. “Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —” “They don’t exist, Neville,” said Hermione tartly. “Oh yes they do!” said Luna angrily. “I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” snapped Hermione. “There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —”

(OotP, 345)

She actually shows a dislike and anger toward Hermione at first because of how Hermione treats the things she believes in. Luna doesn't get angry often, but when her beliefs are ridiculed in the way Hermione does so, is one of these few times. She doesn't mind being called "Loony", but she cares about her, and her father's beliefs are aggressively questioned. She wouldn't have minded it if Hermione just didn't believe her (like Ron and Ginny) what bothers her is that Hermione doesn't even entertain the possibility of these creatures being real. What angers her is Hermione's closed-mindedness, not that she doesn't agree with her. Luna doesn't mind being alone in her beliefs, she minds closed-minded people who think they know everything, that's what gets her annoyed with Hermione, I think.

Now, I kind of want to discuss why Luna and Xenehpilius believe what they believe. Well, more Xenephilius than Luna, because he taught her most of it and gave her all the evidence she is basing her understanding of all these creatures and conspiracies come from.

Because that's what a lot of these are — conspiracies — and mostly about the Ministry of Magic. These article titles are somewhat like farfetched conspiracy theories like: "NASA hiding a second sun at the center of the Earth" or "Did you know the Earth is actually flat but the government doesn't want you to know" or anything to do with Area 51 and aliens. The articles from the Quibbler sound awfully a lot like that. And it seemed the main reason Xenophilius and Luna believed Harry was because the ministry didn't.

Xenophilius and Luna also believe in miracle cures like gnome venom (as quoted earlier), Gurdyroots and Plumpies:

“May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots?” said Xenophilius. “We make it ourselves.” As he started to pour out the drink, which was a deep purple as beetroot juice, he added, “Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plumpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar.

(DS, 348)

They are essentially wizard conspiracy theorist hippies.

Basically, Xenophilius and Luna distrust the ministry (rightfully so, as the ministry sucks) but they took their distrust to the extreme. Essentially believing any information from the ministry, or ministry-sanctioned textbooks and newspapers to be false (some of it definitely is false, but not all). If it comes from the ministry it's false in their eyes and therefore everything the ministry doesn't live in is true, even if it doesn't make sense. So what I think is going on with the Lovegoods, and what they are supposed to be, is just conspiracy theorists, who rightfully distrust their government, but took this distrust too far beyond common sense. It doesn't mean all they belive is false, they are actually correct often enough, but not always.

Now, I think, as I said, they have a good reason to distrust the ministry, they just took it a bit far. I actually have a bit of a headcanon about how Xenophilius came to the conclusion that they can't trust ministry.

My headcanon is that it has to do with Pandora's death. We don't really have any indication that Xenophilius believed in everything he did before her death. Neither do we know how exactly the spell killed Pandora. I think the ministry either hid information about Pandora's condition, used some spells she created in their books without giving her credit, or the ministry never sanctioned her spells (we know the ministry does approve spells, Hermione mentions as much in HBP). I'm not sure what exactly went with the ministry, but I headcanon Xenophilius has a personal reason related to Pandora to distrust them.

Loony Luna

We know Luna gets bullied. Her belongings get stolen, other students call her "Loony". And it isn't surprising she gets bullied. children are mean to anyone who is weird and different and Hogwarts has no anti-bullying measures. Literally none, the faculty doesn't care.

What is more interesting is Luna's outlook on her own bullying. It's the same optimistic acceptance of how she treats death.

“How come you’re not at the feast?” Harry asked. “Well, I’ve lost most of my possessions,” said Luna serenely. “People take them and hide them, you know. But as it’s the last night, I really do need them back, so I’ve been putting up signs.” She gestured toward the notice board, upon which, sure enough, she had pinned a list of all her missing books and clothes, with a plea for their return. An odd feeling rose in Harry — an emotion quite different from the anger and grief that had filled him since Sirius’s death. It was a few moments before he realized that he was feeling sorry for Luna. “How come people hide your stuff?” he asked her, frowning. “Oh . . . well . . .” She shrugged. “I think they think I’m a bit odd, you know. Some people call me ‘Loony’ Lovegood, actually.” Harry looked at her and the new feeling of pity intensified rather painfully. “That’s no reason for them to take your things,” he said flatly. “D’you want help finding them?” “Oh no,” she said, smiling at him. “They’ll come back, they always do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway . . . why aren’t you at the feast?”

(OotP, 862-863)

Other Ravenclaws steal her things and hide them, they call her "Loony" and at no point is Luna angry or scared. She is calm and serene and she declines Harry's help because she believes it will all work out. It's the same outlook on death and sadness: "Everything will be fine, just keep your chin up and believe things will be good" That just really seems to be Luna's life philosophy. She faces every problem with optimism and serenity.

Instead of being concerned over her own situation, she actually goes a step further and ask how Harry is doing. Luna goes out of her way to brighten up other people's lives and help them see the good in situations like she can. She is really sweet.

“I enjoyed the meetings too,” said Luna serenely. “It was like having friends.” This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment.

(HBP, 138)

“Oh, it’s been all right,” said Luna. “A bit lonely without the D.A. Ginny’s been nice, though. She stopped two boys in our Transfiguration class calling me ‘Loony’ the other day —”

(HBP, 311)

These are two more examples of Luna's being bullied. She is lonely and didn't really have friends before the D.A. But just like with her missing things, while it makes her sad, she doesn't wallow in it. She looks at the good parts. The happy memories, the fact that Ginny defends her now. Honestly, it's a healthier coping mechanism than what we see with other characters, I'll give her that.

The other interesting note is how honest she is with all of it. She always says things exactly how she believes they are. She doesn't lie or hide information from people, even for their own comfort. I think this has to do with the distrust in the ministry her father and her share.

Essentially, she was raised being told how awful the ministry is for lying to everyone and how it's horrible they hide information from the wizarding world. I think this is part of why she is so honest and straightforward. She really sees hiding information and lying as awful things to do. And, I mean, she's a Ravenclaw for a reason, she likely believes information should be accessible to know and learn, not hidden in the bawls of the ministry. It's all part of her honesty.

Luna's Empathy

Luna is one of the more empathetic characters in the books. I mentioned before how she goes out of her way to encourage and comfort others, and here are some examples I picked up:

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you look for your stuff?” he said. “Oh no,” said Luna. “No, I think I’ll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up. . . . It always does in the end. . . . Well, have a nice holiday, Harry.” “Yeah . . . yeah, you too.” She walked away from him, and as he watched her go, he found that the terrible weight in his stomach seemed to have lessened slightly.

(OotP, 864)

Luna is the first person to make Harry feel better after Sirius' death, to tell him life goes on and actually convince him of it. She can empathize with people really weel and tell them what they need to hear.

He finally tracked her [Hermione] down as she emerged from a girls’ bathroom on the floor below. She was accompanied by Luna Lovegood, who was patting her vaguely on the back. “Oh, hello, Harry,” said Luna. “Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright yellow?” “Hi, Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff. . . .” He held out her books. “Oh yes,” said Hermione in a choked voice, taking her things and turning away quickly to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes on her pencil case. “Thank you, Harry. Well, I’d better get going. . . .” And she hurried off, without giving Harry any time to offer words of comfort, though admittedly he could not think of any. “She’s a bit upset,” said Luna. “I thought at first it was Moaning Myrtle in there, but it turned out to be Hermione. She said something about that Ron Weasley. . . .”

(HBP, 310)

Even with Hermione, whom Luna tends to argue with most due to Hermione appearing closed-minded to Luna, when Luna hears crying her first instinct is to go help. And she actually seemed to have made Hermione feel better, she found the right things to say.

Her mention of Moaning Myrtle makes it sound like Luna knows the ghost well. My headcanon is that in Luna's first years, when she was lonely and had no friends, she sat and chatted with Myrtle, and they had a cute little lonely friendship.

“That’s right,” said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A., “That’s right, Harry. . . come on think of something happy. . . .” “Something happy?” he said, his voice cracked. “We’re all still here,” she whispered, “we’re still fighting. Come on, now. . . .”

(DS, 548)

Encouraging Harry to cast a Patronus when they need one.

“I’m going to miss you, Mr. Ollivander,” said Luna, approaching the old man. “And I you, my dear,” said Ollivander, patting her on the shoulder. “You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place.”

(DH, 437)

And even comforting Ollivanders.

Luna just brings comfort to everyone she meets. Knowing what to say to make them feel better.

About her supposed seer-like abilities

As I said, I don't think Luna is a seer or anything like that. I think she's intelligent, open-minded, incredibly empathetic, has some extreme distrust in the ministry, and has an overall life philosophy of looking at the full half of the cup.

When I searched for scenes that had "extra-magical" potential I found only two:

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded. [...] The girl called Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harry, who had taken the seat opposite her and now wished he had not.

(OotP, 185)

I think this is more Luna being awkward because she never had friends more than anything. I think she is just honestly shocked and confused that Harry and Co. want to sit with her; of like, their free will, and not just to say mean things.

As much as Luna holds her head high, she is hurt by her bullies and loneliness, she just chooses to not internalize any of it and never stop to be herself. Honestly I really appreciate this aspect of Luna, I adore her ability to stay afloat.

The second scene:

He led a party of warlocks into the marquee as Luna rushed up. “Hello, Harry!” she said. “Er—my name’s Barny,” said Harry, flummoxed. “Oh, have you changed that too?” she asked brightly. “How did you know—?” “Oh, just your expression,” she said.

(DH, 123)

I don't think this is being a "seer" or anything like that. I believe this is an extension of Luna's intense empathy. She says she recognises Harry's expression. Also, she's smart and he acts around Ron the way he always does, Luna would be able to recognize it...

So, yeah, these are my thoughts about Luna.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #anon asks #anonymous #luna lovegood #harry potter meta #hp headcanon #hollowedheadcanon #hollowedtheory

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icallhimjoey · 2 years

Note

Hi lovely! (I just realized I don't know your name or pronouns 😅) I hope you're having a great day.

So, I'm feeling a little messy and was wondering if you could write something a lil bit angsty with Joe and reader where one of them is jealous or gets a tiny bit possessive after someone flirted with the other at a party or any place you'd like.

Thank you for your stories, i love them ♥️

hiiiiiiii my pronouns are she/her and idk, call me bestie, or girl, or bitch if you're really excited (but only if you're excited, i wont allow it otherwise) thanks for your request! Wordcount: 2K

---

Last Ones Standing

“Is everything all right?” your question was casual, hoping it wouldn’t sound as if you were scared there was something actually wrong. Logically there shouldn’t be, the party had been great fun, you’d seen and heard Joe laugh throughout most of it. But Joe was distant. Unusually so.

“Yea. Yea, ‘course it is,” his voice was so flat, it was almost comical to you. Your repressed smile didn’t help the situation at all.

“Okay... so it’s not. Talk to me.”

“Everything’s fine,” Joe had his eyebrows raised high, eyes on the set of keys his was swinging around by the keyring around his fingers.

You had felt it the moment you left the apartment of Joe’s friend and made your way to the lift. You pulled your hair out of your coat and straightened your scarf so it wouldn’t drag over the floor before jogging to Joe to fall into step with him, but when you reached for his hand, he was quick to use it to scratch at his chin, and then he’d slid it into his pocket.

You didn’t want to read into it. You’d both been drinking. It was late. Tired. But when the lift doors had closed, Joe had sighed deeply.

“Cool, okay. That’s perfect then. I love it when my boyfriend is fine.”

Joe was absolutely lying to you and you knew it, but you weren’t going to press it further if he didn’t want to spill what was on his mind. So you changed the subject.

“Ugh, my feet hurt a little... hey, did you hear what happened to-”

“I saw those eyes.” Joe interrupted you trying to recount the party. You looked at him, his jaw tense and eyes averting you.

“Eyes? Whose eyes?”

“Yours.” He nodded up at you, almost challenging you, but then stepped out of the lift immediately when the doors opened, leaving you to follow him like dog. If he was trying to piss you off, whatever he was doing was certainly doing the trick.

You sighed, groaned almost, annoyed at what Joe was doing.

“I’m sorry for bringing them, I’ll leave them on my bedside table the next time we go to a party together.”

The clicks of your heels echoed against the tall buildings, the two of you were the only people in the street. It was only a ten to fifteen minute walk to your apartment so you’d decided to just walk there, knowing it would sober you up a bit which should technically help your hangovers the next day. You regretted it now, not looking forward to keeping up with Joe’s quick pace in the shoes you were wearing, trying to talk him out of whatever mood he was in.

“Not necessary.” Joe said, turning his head to check it was safe to cross the street before doing so. Oh, Joe was mad mad. You couldn’t remember a time where he hadn’t reached for your hand when he was about to cross a street with you, even if there weren’t any cars around.

“I won’t bring my girlfriend next time,” The comment felt like a stab in the chest.

“Can you please just tell me what the fuck I did wrong so I can apologize for it?” You couldn’t have said a thing more wrong, apparently.

“What do you expect of me?” Joe’s voice was far too loud for this part of London at this time of night. You made big eyes at him that were meant to communicate for him to shut up and lower his voice, but his reaction to your face turned your big eyes into eyes that asked him what the fuck was wrong with him more so in the general sense. Joe looked at you as if you were the one being unreasonable, and you weren’t having it.

“I expect of you to communicate with me like a normal person!” you hissed. “What do you expect of me?” you shot the question back at him, bent forward slightly at the hip in your arguing. Joe didn’t like it.

“I expect that when I take my girlfriend- my fucking girlfriend to a party of one of my friends that she acts like she’s there as, oh I don’t know, let me think about it- oh, as my girlfriend!”

Gross. That was way too possessive for your liking. You knew Joe’d been drinking too much, but he was shouting at you with his face way too close to yours. In public too – sure, it was late, but you were out in the streets and anyone walking or driving past could see and hear him shout at you. Absolutely unacceptable.

You shook your head at him, decided to step around him and kept walking. He was quick to follow.

“Were you aware that you were absolutely engrossed in conversation for two and a half hours? Two and a half hours?! Come on! I was asked by literally everyone there what was going on with the two of you,”

“Literally everyone? Okay, Joe.” Your eyes had already shot up at the sky in dismissal before you could stop yourself.

“Honestly, what the fuck was so important for you to-”

You stopped walking, turned, and held your hand out that placed itself on Joe’s chest as he walked into it.

“Did you have fun?” you asked him, brows furrowed at him. Joe thought of a second. “Yes, it was fine, but-”

“Great. So did I. We went to a party and we both had fun. What’s the issue here exactly?”

“You had fun without me!” Joe spat at you.

“Aww poor baby Joey needed my attention, did he?” you mocked him and it was snarky and mean but you felt he deserved it for shouting and spitting at you.

“Fuck off,” he scoffed, pushing your hand from his chest, and stepping around you to continue the trek home like you’d just done before.

“You’re an adult, Joe! Stop acting like a fucking teenager,” you called after him before following him at your own pace, not caring about catching up with him.

Joe was fast. He took maybe fifteen huge steps before turning around and just as quickly marching his way back to you. It made you stop in your tracks.

“You know what, no. Nope. I’m not going to do this.”

“Good. Me neither.”

But then he walked right past you and you watched him walk away in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” He’d not get there until at least an hour and a half later if he really was going to walk all the way to his own flat.

“Joey, stop. Stop!” you called, and to your surprise, he listened and stopped, but his legs didn’t stop moving. He paced around the same four pavement tiles for a few seconds, his arms held up high as he held onto his own wrists that rested on his head.

“He’s going to break up with her.” You revealed why you’d been so busy talking to one of Joe’s friends that night. You were the only other girl besides her in the friend group who’d been involved for years, so it felt completely natural for Joe’s friend to come to you for advice on his predicament.

“What?” Joe asked on an exhale, shellshocked by the news.

“You’ve all been making jokes about when he’s going to propose or knock her up… but he wants to break up.” You had promised him you wouldn’t tell anyone to at least give him time to figure things out for himself. They’d been together since secondary school – this was a huge decision. You knew Joe was too good of a friend to not say anything about it to him if you’d tell him, especially if the whole ordeal was going to take a few days, or even weeks. So, your plan really had been to keep it to yourself.

“He’s going to dump her?” Joe started taking smalls steps back over to you. He absolutely couldn’t believe what he was hearing. From this group of friends, she and you were the only girlfriends that had lasted as long as you had. If Joe’s friend was really going to break up with his girlfriend, it’d leave you as the last girlfriend from way back when and Joe hadn’t expected it. He always thought everyone would stay together, like he always intended to do with you. But, as Joe learned over time, including this revelation tonight, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Was I supposed to just pat him on the back and wish him luck?” you asked Joe, arms held out wide in a huge shrug.

“Of course not,” Joe seemed annoyed by the way you suggested that, because obviously that wasn't what you should’ve done.

Joe stopped in front of you, and you tried to make eye contact, but Joe rested his gaze on your shoulder. Then he brushed a piece of hair from it, but held onto it and let his fingers play with it, slowly twirling the lock in his hands. “Why does he… why is he going to-”

“There’s 2,5 hours’ worth of reasons,” you joked, making Joe wince at the way he’d held that over your head earlier. “But it comes down to the fact that he just doesn’t think he can spend the rest of his life with her, you know?”

Joe nodded a little, his anger for you already forgotten. It had completely been replaced with worry and empathy for his friend. And for his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, too.

“He’s honestly heartbroken,” you said, explaining why you had chosen to sit and listen to Joe’s friend all night. It made you feel good that you could be of service; be a listening ear, give a word of advice and just be kind to one of Joe’s friends that trusted you enough with information he didn’t feel like sharing with anyone else just yet.

“I should call him,” Joe went to reach for his phone, but you stopped him by grabbing hold of his wrist.

“That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. He can’t know that you know.”

Joe looked at you, slightly bewildered. He realized that you could’ve easily told him straight away to completely avoid the fight you’d just had. It would’ve prevented Joe from screaming at you in the street. But you hadn’t told him because you’d promised his friend you wouldn’t. You were trustworthy like that. Joe plummeted into heavy guilt and his squeezed his eyes shut as he groaned at himself for being an awful boyfriend to an amazing girlfriend.

“I’m the worst,” he started, taking hold of both of your hands and brought them up to his mouth to press his lips against them. His apologetic puppy-dog eyes looked over them, and there was no way you could stay angry at him when he looked at you like that. As Joe softened, so did you, and you understood how Joe must’ve felt, eyeing his girlfriend from across the room engrossed in a deep, serious conversation with another man for most of the evening. Especially if people had really come up to him to ask him about what the deal was. You had checked in with Joe a couple times, looked over to see him laugh and banter with others, and you’d felt like he’d been fine without you. And he had been! But he would’ve liked it so much better if you had joined him for more of the evening.

“Me too,” you laughed. “I think it’s why we work so well.” You lent in and Joe met you halfway for a quick kiss.

“I’m sorry.” Joe said, kissing you again.

“I’m sorry too.” You replied, accepting every kiss you could get out of him.

“So… do we know anyone we can set him up with?” Joe joked; eyes narrowed, gaze aimed over the top of your head, as if he was thinking it over deeply.

“Oh my God, stop,” you laughed. “They’ve not broken up yet!”

Joe put his arm around your neck and turned you around, pulling you along with him, back on track to your apartment.

“Did you at least try to talk him out of it?” Joe asked, now falling into the chat you had wanted to have earlier, recounting the party with you.

“Why did you think it took me so fucking long?”

Joe curled you into him more and kissed your forehead. “Last ones standing, hey?”

“Last ones standing.”

---

The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl @kylakins88 @paola-carter - add yourself

#requested #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #angst #fluff

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jinlias · 2 years

Text

kinktober day 6 - classroom sex w mina

“y/n” her eyes widen in surprise as she sees you “did we- did we schedule something today?”

“no” you shrug “just wanted to drop by” mina watches as you walk to her desk and prop your ass on it, right beside her

“what are you really here for?” she drops the red pen on the last paper she had been marking and looks up at you. “that skirt is not adequate. i could get you dress coded”

“okay fine. maybe i wanted to see if there’s anything i can do about my midterm? i did horribly” you pout, leaning forward and smirking at the way her eyes get lost in your cleavage. “about the skirt, what ever do you mean? i wore it just for you”

“i’m not changing your grade y/n” the older takes the red pen once again and leans back on her chair, attempting to go back to the task at hand

“why not? you’ve done it before. besides- you haven’t submitted anything yet, so, would it really be changing it?” she looks up at you and squints, trying to notice any bluffing or any indicators that this was you trying to role-play or something, because you never really asked for something like that, you’ve never had to either, because you usually did well on your tests. there’s a toxic (small) part of her brain that’s racking all the possible reasons why you didn’t study as hard for this test. “but, i also came here to scratch an itch. seeing as you’re not interested, i’ll see that nayeon can”.

“wait-“ she grabs your wrist and tugs you to sit back down on the desk. “look at you, using my own tactics on me”

you shrug, still pouting. “you’re not going anywhere near that bitch-“

“excuse me, that bitch, is my best friend!” you chuckle, pretending to be mad, but instead eating up her jealousy act.

“yeah, she clearly wants to get with you.”

“and she has-“ mina stands up at that, squeezing your cheeks in one hand.

“i don’t want to hear it” she lets your face go after a couple of seconds. “you have one chance to convince me of changing your grade before i go finding out who you were fucking the night before that was more important than studying”

“what do i have to do to convince you?” you’ve never known someone who can resist to your puppy eyes, mina was the first, so there was no use in trying it, your best chance was to put on a sultry voice and do exactly as she said.

“didn’t you come here to scratch an itch?” she shrugs, sitting back down, crossing her legs and lacing her hands together “do it. fuck yourself”

“that’s not what i meant by ‘itch’-“

“look at my face” the older glares “i don’t care. make yourself come right now, maybe i’ll think about it”

you know better than to challenge her when something so important as your grade is on the line. you’re now in the middle of the desk, the tiny skirt bunched up at your hips as you take off your school bag and lean it on the leg of her desk. your legs spread as you look down on her, somewhat annoyed that she’s actually making you work for something.

the stack of papers had made its way to her lap and mina tries so hard to look elsewhere when she notices you were never wearing underwear to begin with. the condescending part of her chuckles in her head, at the fact that you can’t even bother decorating to bribe her, the other part is dying to get a taste, because no matter how short it’s been when she last had you, she can’t ever get enough.

the glistening trail of slick that has smeared to your inner thighs catches her attention the most. your fingers spreading it around your folds, the way you throw your head back and whimper at the simplest touch enlightens her on just how long you’ve been deprived.

“miss-“ you only have one finger in you when you begin to plead for her

“keep going” she shrugs, already halfway through the stack of papers to grade, taking glances at you every now and then, but trying not to pay any real attention to you.

“i want you. please”

“i don’t care, i gave you instructions that i expect you to follow” a whine comes out of you and instantly makes her head turn to you “one more whimper and i’ll edge the fuck out of you, and i won’t fix your grade”

it goes pretty smooth after that, you don’t know if you’re doing it for the grade, or because you really want her to fuck you. sadly, there’s no amount of violent rubbing on your clit or quick pumping on your fingers that can make you come. you want her. you’re clearly not enough to climax. you need her.

“okay. that’s quite pathetic” her eyebrows raise as she sighs, placing the stack of papers and red pen on the chair next to her desk. the first thing she does after standing, is pushing you by the chest to lay back on the desk, not caring if there was anything on it that could bother you “gonna have to make you come since you clearly can’t do that”

“if you can’t make yourself come how am i supposed to trust you can make me?” is the last thing she says before plunging her digits deep inside you, helping you find what you were looking for.

#professor!mina #jinlias kinktober 2022 #twice smut #twice imagine #twice x reader #twice x you

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daddykylokenobi · 1 year

Text

Kylo Ren x Y/N Chapter 5

Warnings-recollection of difficult memories, mentioned violence, fluff, some angst, soft romance, kissing, angry kylo then happy kylo. (This chapter was much shorter than the ones before srrrrry!!)

Y/n sat idly in her white walled room, staring out the window of the ship out at the vast sea of space and stars. It had been 2 days since the “incident” on Takodana, soon as word had been sent back to the General about what happened Y/n, Kylo and Farron had all been picked up the next day and were on their way back to the base for debriefing and as the General liked to call it “some time to cool off.” But Y/n wasn’t angry, she was scared by what happened, scared that by complete accident she used the Force to hurt someone.

There was a gentle knock on Y/n’s door, then a pressure release was heard as it opened, General Poe stood in the doorway. “Hey Y/n, sorry to interrupt I just wanted to on check on ya.” He entered the room and made his way to Y/n who was sitting in a lounge chair by the window.

“Oh it’s alright you aren’t interrupting anything..” Y/n had been quiet the past two days, she was avoiding anyone and everyone, especially Ben. “I’m doing okay though, how about you?” She faked niceties and gave Poe a small smile.

“I’m good, just got done talking with Farron and Ben, I just wanted to make sure we got everyone’s story straight before rumors start flying, you know how everyone can be and I just want to avoid any further issues.” His face was warm and gentle, he truly wanted to help make sure everything was handled well. “So if you don’t mind just kinda retracing your steps and telling me what happened that would help a lot.”

Y/n looked at Poe somberly but knew that she couldn’t get out of this. “Well.. It started in the supply bunker obviously, Farron had asked for my help and I obliged, I didn’t think he had ill intentions but obviously that all changed when we actually got in the bunker together. We had been working for a bit just organizing and whatever when he started asking some.. Personal questions.” Y/n looked away from the General and again stared out the window.

“What kind of questions?” Poe invited himself to sit in the chair beside Y/n.

“Uhm, well he asked if me and Ben were more than friends, I told him no which is the truth but he didn’t believe me, he began to get mad and he grabbed me.” She looked down at her lap, trying to push herself to relive the moment. “Farron has liked me for a long time but I’ve rejected him before, he started yelling about how he didn’t understand how I couldn’t give him a chance and would instead go for a m-murderer..” her voice got quiet as she said the words.

Poe listened intently, he had leaned forward onto his knees and was looking up at Y/n.

“Then he uh, started to shake me and yell in my face, I got scared I-I didn’t know what to do” her hands started to lightly tremble and she was gesturing around as she spoke. “And then it happened, I don’t know how or if I meant to but I pushed him back against the wall, it was hard w-way harder than I would’ve intended I just wanted him away from me, you have to understand.” She looked down at Poe with glossy eyes, her voice begging for understanding and forgiveness.

Poe rested his left palm on Y/n’s knee, “I understand completely, Ben told me about you and the Force, I was surprised to hear that Rey didn’t know but, -I’m just glad that you’re okay.” Poe had a way of making someone feel cared for, even through a gentle touch Y/n felt safe to share the story.

“Thank you..” she whispered. “Everything with Ben is.. it’s complicated right now but I haven’t spoken to him since It happened.” She squeezed her eyes shut tightly trying to erase the thoughts running through her mind. “What has he said?” She asked.

“Oh not a whole lot, you know he isn’t one for long speeches” he chuckled trying to lighten the mood. “But uh, yeah his story fits pretty well with yours.” He nodded.

“And Farron..?”

“Well, that’s a different story there” he huffed while bringing his hands together.

“I assumed it would be, he’s healing up just fine though, the bruises will be gone in a few days and he’ll be good as new.” Poe then looked down away from Y/n’s gaze. “We are wanting to give you three some time off though.”

“What why?” Y/n asked quickly.

“It’s not anything bad I promise” he said raising his hand to stop Y/n. “We all just feel that it would be best for you guys to take some time to think all of this through and get some rest, it’s nothing big and I expect you all to be back in due time okay?”

“…I understand.” As much as she wanted to fight Poe on this their friendship wasn’t important right now, he was the authority figure and she needed to follow orders.

“Alrighty well we should be back by tomorrow afternoon, take it easy okay?” He patted Y/n’s leg than stood up and exited the room, the door shutting behind him.

A few hours passed and Y/n been roaming the residential floor of the ship, it was passed midnight so it was very quiet except a few resistance personnel or a worker droid.

The floors and walls around her were a shining white, the only sound filling her ears was her own breathing and footsteps against the metal floor.

She thought back to the incident, Ben had come to comfort her, he thought at first that it was all an accident and that the fear he sensed from her was just from when she had pushed him into the wall, when Y/n told him what had truly happened he was enraged, quickly after the rest of the group showed up Ben disappeared from the bunker leaving Dahla to tend to Y/n and he went and found Farron.. Y/n thought he looked bad after she Force slammed him against the wall but when she saw him before leaving Takodana she couldn’t believe it, he was covered in bruises and had a black eye, Ben had unleashed his anger on Farron to a certain extent, had it been before a simple Force choke would have taken care of him but halfway through his beating Ben resisted to go any further, he knew that by giving into the fire inside him he would have ignited something that he had fought so hard to extinguish. Ben felt guilty for letting his emotions get the best of him but his resentment for Farron and feeling of responsibility for Y/n’s protection had only grown stronger. Y/n was lost on how to handle all of this so she had been avoiding Ben, she wasn’t mad at him she just felt responsible for the entire situation and was loathing herself for it.

As Y/n was rounding a corner she heard another set of footsteps, thinking it was another worker she continued on not considering the possibility of who it could be. Then suddenly she was face to face with Ben. He stared forward unsurprised to have found her there. Y/n was so deep in thought that she hadn’t even sensed him, this realization shot a wave of pain over her.

“Ben..” she had a remorseful tone to her. She hadn’t talked to him since yesterday morning when she had found out what he did and even though it wasn’t long the ache of not being close to him had set in deep within her. “Can we talk?” She meekly asked.

He paused for a moment before simply nodding, they both silently strolled back to his room. When they had entered it Y/n went and sat on the edge of his bed.

Ben stood a few feet in front of her, obviously keeping a distance between them. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what she must think of him, proving everyone right again, that he was some First Order monster who wanted nothing but to cause chaos and violence, a machine who was good for nothing but to inflict pain.

They looked at eachother, neither one breaking the silence. Y/n’s eyes wandered over his frame, he always stood with impeccable posture, a sense of authority and power poured from him. But then she noticed his hands, his knuckles and fingers were wrapped tightly in white bandaging. Her heart skipped a beat and her throat became tight and painful.

“B-Ben…” her voice cracking as she looked up into his eyes which were closely watching her. His entire demeanor changed with her calling for him, his shoulders relaxed and he felt that same pit in his stomach throb with pain. She outstretched her arms to him while tears began to seep into her sleep deprived eyes.

Quickly he moved forward and sat beside her, she wasted no time wrapping her arms around him and burrowing herself into his chest. He thought that she wanted to condemn him, tell him how terrible he was for what he did to Farron, that it was a mistake ever letting him teach her since he was such a failure himself, that he was sick and she never wanted to be around him again. But alas there he sat, on the edge of his bed with the girl he had grown so close to nuzzled into his chest as she sniffled quietly.

“I’m so sorry Ben, I don’t know what happened or how it happened,” she moved up to face him, her eyes wet and lips shaking. “I failed you, I caused all of this.” She looked down and grabbed his right hand, caressing his bandaged knuckles. “I did this..” Tears fell from her eyes onto his hand, he gently pulled his hand away and pulled her into a soft embrace, “Y/n none of this was your fault, you didn’t fail me do you understand?” He squeezed her tighter, burying his face into the curve between her neck and shoulder. “None of this was your fault I promise.. I promise you it wasn’t.” They sat intertwined with eachother for what felt like eternity, but if this truly was eternity then Ben would have been content, wrapped in the arms of Y/n, close where he could protect her, keep her safe.

After another few minutes had passed the sniffling from Y/n had ended, she gently pulled away from his grasp and looked upto his face, again they were so close..

Ben lifted his right hand and wiped his clothed thumb across her cheek, wiping away the wetness.

“What can I do..? To make this all better?” She asked blinking away any remaining tears.

Ben thought for a moment, staring into her e/c eyes, then trailing his gaze down to her bitten-pink lips. “Stay.” He answered hushed, his eyes not leaving her mouth.

Y/n could tell what he was staring at, suddenly a hint of shyness or embarrassment hit her, her cheeks began to feel warm and flushed. “Okay..” she softly replied.

He then moved his hand which was still holding her cheek, he lightly pressed his thumb against her lips and oh so slightly pushed them from left to right, he was entranced with their shape, color, and softness.

A heat was beginning to build inside each of them, the tension that they first felt a few nights ago in the tent had returned and this time it’s wasn’t just Y/n whose head was being filled with fantasies.

Then smoothly and quietly Ben asked, “Could you do something else for me?” He swallowed down his nervousness.

Y/n stared at him, so many possibilities of what he was going to ask rushing through her head.

“Anything.” She whispered, her unseen devotion swimming to the surface.

Then with a long pause, Ben started to close the gap between them, his dark eyes were half lidded and his lips brought together.

Then like the waves of the sea rushing to shore their lips curved together like perfect symmetry.

His lips felt delicate, not wanting to be too overpowering he tried his best to remain gentle with her but inside of him was a powerful thundering storm. His head spun with dizziness as the feeling of her plump mouth hypnotized him with ecstasy.

Y/n breathed out lightly, a small moan of pleasure escaping her lips.

Ben was shot back to reality by this, he broke away from the drug that was Her. His eyes flickered between her eyes and mouth, awaiting a response.

The corners of her now moist lips curled into a warm satisfied smile. “I…” she huffed out with a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting that.” Her right hand trailed down his shoulder, holding tightly onto his bicep.

He also allowed a small smile to rise, “Was it okay?” His voice oozed uncertainty as he pressed together his brows.

Y/n leaned forward and carefully pressed a kiss onto his mouth once more. “It was perfect..” her eyes gleamed with joy.

Ben hadn’t felt this happy in so long, his chest was brimming with light as he admired Y/n, it felt right to be in this moment with her, to share this intimacy that he so badly wanted to the night in the tent, he wrapped his hands around her waist and slowly fell back on the bed.

Her eyes fluttered to stay awake as she crawled closer in his arms, she rested her head against his shoulder and stared up at him, love and admiration beaming from her gaze.

He pressed his lips against her forehead, holding the kiss for a moment before releasing and wrapping his arms tightly around her, Ben thought to himself how he never wanted to let her go, never wanted to leave such a beautiful moment with her. He turned his head to his right and looked out at the galaxy as it seemed to swim by, all of the stars which were gleaming through the dark space couldn’t even begin to compare to the beauty of the woman in his arms, for the first time in a long time Ben knew that he had something, something beautiful and light and tangible to fight for.

#kylo ren #star wars #ben solo #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x reader #adam driver #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfic

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tojikai · 2 years

Note

Ooh boy, where do I go with this?

*crack knuckles

*open word

Firstly,… KAI! IS THIS HOW EVERY CHAPTER GONNA END UNTIL THE FINAL ONE? I mean, of course, this will be how you end it. How else are you gonna get your reader looking forward to the next one? It works on me tbh, but still… I swear every cliffhanger in PM always makes me rip my hair offLMAOSADKASKDASDK

Why don’t we start from the top to the bottom?

But when her sweet breaths lull his tired form to sleep and all consciousness and control leave his body, he again hears your name in the sound of his own voice, unaware of how he's crushing another soul beside him.

I just… like… *insert that gif of a woman trying to hold on to her laughter

I’m sick in the head bc I giggled sm at this part. You thought, bitch, you thought! Like at least, Satoru emotionally cheated on Y/N in secret, but this man just straight up slept talk her name while sleeping next to you like that? The yearning is REAL. And like, the “side hoe” part is actually true at this point. What goes around comes around, am I right? :))

Was the man sleeping beside her simply dreaming of his past, or is this his subconscious speaking out his heart's untold and disregarded yet truest desires?

*remember the near end of this chapter

Yeahhhhhh…… about that…… LMAO

Going on with his day, Satoru remembered the events that happened after he got home from the hospital. He considers it one of the major challenges in their relationship, and he could still remember how his thoughts were all over the place at that time.

*fast forward

If he takes it, then it's over between the two of you. If he takes it, then he'll never get the chance to earn you back. If he takes it, then you'll forever be gone from his life.

He won't take the necklace, so he took your hand and pulled you to him, kissing your lips fervently and braving the slam of your fists against his body and chest, drowning you with the over.

He cradled your head as he kissed your cheek. "I'm ending things with Rie. I'm coming home to you, Y/N." flowing emotions that you bring out of him.

“One of the major challenges in their relationship” Yeah, that and the day you broke up with Rie LMAO. Like he thought there would be more if their relationship lasted that long, but like, the moment he realized that he’s going to lose Y/N for real, all these relationship things with Rie went out of the fucking window. He just jumped back right in Y/N without a second thought. No hesitation whatsoever.

All I could do was shake my head at this. This shit feels like it’s mirrored chapter 1. He didn’t think twice about leaving Y/N and now Rie is on the receiving end. THIS ASSHOLE DOESN’T CHANGE AT ALL. HE NEEDS THAT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT JUICE ASAP IF GOJO AND Y/N DO GET BACK TOGETHER. No one wants this manchild. He changes his mind faster than he changes his clothes.

Also, this chapter is probably the first in PM that makes me want to read it over and over again. Because it’s where Satoru finally makes up his damn mind about what he truly feels. It gives me so much peace. Like, you get it, Satoru… you get it… And since you understand now, will you fuck off for real? (we know he won’t) LASLDKASDKAAS;LDAS IM STILL SO MAD AT HIM OKAY?

She started out sobbing before it gradually increased to full-on wailing and crying.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, keeping eye contact, but his stare was glazed as he placed a hand on her waist.

"Satoru, I'm sorry." His disinterest didn't go unnoticed by Rie as she tried to catch his vacant stare.

Oh man, oh man, oh man! Anon strikes again!! Satoru just didn’t care or was afraid of Rie’s tears. AT ALL. You thought he would care more, like how he impulsively lashed out at Y/N at the party, but the indifference is kinda real here. He just didn’t bother hiding it anymore.

"The girl's really nice, Ma'am. I think her name's Y/N."

Satoru really believed that it was all slowly, steadily getting better. He thought that he was finally learning to completely detach himself from all the happenings surrounding you and him, just like how you must be doing every passing day too. But it was proven wrong when he found his heart punching against his chest, beseeching to be set free with just a couple of words. He really thought he was over it all, that he was keeping his promise to never see you anymore.

He really thought that he was over you.

I love how you gave Satoru a moment of false peace and allowed him to be lost in his dream world just to hit it again with the truck of reality. It’s so cruel yet so delicious. I imagine this moment as everything went slow-motion in Satoru’s POV when he heard her name and then *ting* a moment of realization. A realization that no matter how hard he tries to distract or lie to himself that everything will be fine, it’s really not, not until he acknowledges his true desire or that shit will eat him up for the rest of his life. LOVE IT.

He didn't think that his best friend would really go for you after only a few months of your break up with him. He shouldn't be the one to talk, but he felt betrayed.

This makes me want to use him as a sandbag and start going to town on him. The medicine sure is bitter now, huh, Hoejo?

"It's none of your fucking business-" Satoru could tell that Suguru's clenched fist was about to rise, ready to shake him out of his mind, but he saw you rushing beside him, hugging his arm before he could even prepare for the punch.

Okay, the Suguru and Satoru brawl almost happened here. It wasn’t a lie when I said I want to see them dug it out lol, but I like the way things turned out to be bc there’s no way Y/N or Rie would let it happen in their presence. Those boys can only do that in private tbh.

"Suguru, it's not worth the trouble." You shook your head to Suguru before looking back at Satoru with nothing but indifference in your eyes.

You weren't crying this time, but your hand was obviously trembling.

There was an anxious yet determined look in your eyes, and Suguru could tell that you were really trying your best and braving your way through this.

And so many more moments after this…..

IM SO PROUD OF Y/N IN THIS CHAPTER (of course that doesn’t mean it’s the same with a certain action of her). She does have the strength and the calmness to face Satoru. Yes, the wound is still fresh, but she’s trying. She’s trying so hard. AND I LOVE TO SEE IT. I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME. I also love how it doesn’t matter if the people she cares about hurt or love her, she doesn’t make a decision concerning them out of spite but genuinely takes their feelings into consideration. Like with the way she understands why Satoru would feel betrayed and emphasizes how it will affect his friendship with Suguru overall more than their relationship. Her love for others always feels so pure to me, whether it’s platonic or romantic.

She had Satoru wrapped around her pretty, dainty fingers with just one kiss. Yet you couldn't even make him stay with your five years of devotion.

Kai, this part almost killed me dead and made me wail like a bitch. Stupid Satoru. Why are you like this? Why??? *beat him with a stick like a piñata

Even if she wasn't pleased about how Satoru had been acting, she couldn't help but think that maybe this could be the closure that the two of you need. Maybe this talk can finally set the two of you free. Perhaps this little event is the key to the peaceful, normal, and stable relationship that he wants with Satoru.

Or the thing that breaks it. Yikes. Girl, did you forget the way your man act just by listening to his ex’s name and how he stormed to his best friend’s house? And OMG, when Y/n suggested that she and Satoru talk at her place, is it also mirrored to that night Satoru brought Rie home? WHAT IN THE PARALLEL???ADSKDLAKDALDALKDAS Except unlike that time, instead of a make-out session, he FUCKED Y/N in their old place. I know I should feel bad and I am, of course, disapproved of both Satoru’s and Y/N’s actions, but the irony in this makes me cackling like crazy. Serve you right, bitch!

And once again, there’s also a parallel with the way both Y/N and Rie react to Satoru after his respective cheating. Rie felt bad for being the catalyst of their breakup, but she accepted Satoru’s advances anyway while Y/N does everything she can to block him out of her life and just move on.

"Call me if something happens," Suguru whispered down to you, kissing your forehead before letting you go.

At this point, Sugu x Y/N or not, I just adore the way he treats Y/N. It’s no doubt filled with love and actual care yet it’s still so respectful. The casual affection, the way they’re so considerate to each other’s feelings makes my heart melts. He’s a whole king I swear. I don’t think this ship is sunk yet, but I don’t mind if they stay friends. Y/N deserves to have someone like him in her life.

He wished this would be over soon so that you could finally be free from them all.

Unfortunately, God (Kai) doesn’t want the angst to stop just yet lol. I’m so sorry baby Suguru, but keep praying and maybe your wish will come true. (1/3)

i actually feel like the cliffhangers are aggravating some readers now 😭 im really sorry but dw these cliffhangers have a following event to them, i promise LMAO

the first point from the story, gosh. i would literally bawl my eyes out if my partner calls out their ex's name in sleep 😭 like that hurts a lot. definitely yearning for the ex :')) and yeah, something really changed after that party. probably bc he finally saw yn break down and he realized that he's truly weak for her but just wouldn't admit it. the slow-motion moment when he heard yn's name definitely happened. man was blind for a couple of minutes as he ran to his car 😭 he was beyond surprised when he heard it. AND the piñata beating is sending me LMAOO 💀 im glad that you caught on to the parallels tho 👀i wanted to make it happen in the car as well but that would be too obvious so i said, lets just go inside the flat😂

AND OHMYGOD that suguru x yn interaction before she left is just 😩💕I HAD TO TAKE A PAUSE FROM WRITING and i read it over and over again as i imagined it LMAO he's so sweet~ but that was like a moment before disaster LMAO

@my-arietta it's this one 😭IM SORRY i got multiple windows open LMAO

#🍭—kaitalks #f: permanent mark

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luminnara · 3 years

Text

Breeding | alpha!bakugou x omega!reader 18+ ONLY

Summary: deep down, all katsuki wants is to be a father. He’ll never admit it, though.

Just a short lil somethin somethin I wanted to get out of my system!

18+ ONLY AND I MEAN IT

Warnings: smut, pregnancy, knotting, a/b/o, heat/rut

Your heats were always strong enough to kick Katsuki into a rut the second he smelled the change in your pheromones.

You had stopped taking any kind of heat suppressants when you met him, partially because you hated that they tended to make you nauseous and partially because he got grumpy whenever you brought them up. It hurt his ego a little, you figured; after all, Katsuki was about as alpha as they came, with ruts that were so wild and explosive they were practically legendary. He was a big, tough, desirable alpha, the number two pro hero, and despite what seemed like an entire fan base of omegas throwing themselves at his feet, he had chosen you.

You weren’t a hero, or even a sidekick. Your quirk didn’t really lend itself to big, valiant acts of heroism, so you had just foregone that route and chosen a much different career for yourself instead:

Fashion.

That’s actually how you had met Katsuki. You worked for his mother as an assistant, listening to her go on and on about her pro-hero son every day. At first, you just nodded and smiled, going along with whatever your boss said, but as time passed, you started to get...almost invested. You looked forward to listening to her gush about him, and whenever she managed to convince him (against his will, apparently) to grab lunch with her, she would come back carrying faint, lingering scents of campfire and marshmallows, and as time passed, she began to notice the way you tried to drink it in.

Then, one thing led to another, and Mitsuki was introducing the two of you. The rest was history.

Now, you had been a mated pair for quite some time, living together in a nice penthouse thanks to Katsuki’s hefty checks from his hero work. You spent most of your free time together, frequently hosting friends and enjoying their company. You had grown used to the boisterous pros your alpha hung out with, and you enjoyed having the likes of Kirishima and Kaminari around.

Except when you were in heat, of course, and Katsuki made sure that you were completely hidden from the world, that you were his and his alone. He was possessive under normal circumstances, but with a mating cycle involved? Oh, he was incessant.

“Who d’you belong to, baby?” he cooed in your ear as he rubbed himself against your slick entrance.

“Y-you, alpha,” you breathed out, voice hitching. Sweat was plastering your hair to your face, your skin feverish as you whined and begged for him.

You’d been like that all day. You had known your heat was coming up, of course, but not just because of the usual symptoms like nesting and cramps; no, you always knew exactly when you were due to begin thanks to Katsuki. He was better at keeping track than you were, going so far as to mark it on the calendar so he’d know when to take time off from hero work.

At first, you’d told him it was fine. He didn’t need to stay so on top of things, and he definitely didn’t need to push his work aside for you. But Katsuki wouldn’t even entertain the thought of leaving you home alone to deal with your heats, and ever since you had first gotten together, he spent every single one taking care of you. He’d fuck you senseless, of course, but he also loved bringing you food and water, determined to keep you from accidentally starving yourself, and he always helped you bathe when you eventually got tired enough to take a break from his dick.

It was incredibly domestic of him, and you were grateful to have such an attentive alpha around...because, after all, when you were in heat, there was really only one thing you could think about.

“Alpha,” you whined, gripping the sheets. “P-please, alpha, please...”

“Want my cock?” he teased, nudging the head inside. You were dripping wet, slick running down your thighs, and as he felt how hot your pussy was, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, kitten, not gonna last long in you...”

“D-Don’t care,” you moaned, desperate to feel him stretching you. “J-Just want your cock, alpha, please...”

Well, who was he to deny you, especially when you asked so sweetly?

He rolled his hips forward, pushing into your hot core and immediately moaning. “Fuck...”

You took him so well. You always did. It was like you were made for him.

As he thrusted in and out of you, Katsuki lowered his head, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Taking you from behind was his favorite way to fuck, but if he kept looking at the way your ass bounced when he pounded into you, he knew he would lose it. He wanted to make you cum at least a couple times before he filled you up, but at the rate things were going, that wasn’t going to take very long.

Whenever you were in heat, orgasms seemed to wash over you whenever your alpha was fucking you. Just the feeling of his cock ramming into you was enough to have you crying his name, more slick gushing down your thighs. There was nothing you loved more than the feeling of your alpha, and Katsuki was a very, very good alpha.

“That’s it,” he said, breath hot against your skin. “Gimme another, baby, cum on this cock...”

He reached down, his calloused fingers finding your clit. The moment he touched it, you let out a loud whine, your pussy squeezing around him desperately.

It was going to drive him mad.

“T-Tell Alpha what you want,” he managed to choke out, trying to focus.

“Fill me up,” you moaned, clawing at the sheets. “Breed me, please...want your pups...”

The thought was just too much. Katsuki lost himself, grabbing your hips roughly as his knot began to swell. Picturing you growing round with his pups, your tits heavy with milk...fuck, he just wanted to fill you up over and over again and never let you go.

So that’s what he did.

A few weeks later, you were pacing around the apartment, nervous as all hell as you chewed your nails. It was a bad habit you had been trying to kick, but right now, you didn’t care; Katsuki would be getting home any minute, and you weren’t sure if you were petrified or ecstatic to tell him the news.

When you heard the door open and his scent came wafting in, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Hey, babe,” your mate called lazily, kicking the door shut like always before shucking his boots off.

“H-Hey,” you squeaked, standing in the kitchen doorway.

At the sound of your tiny voice, he froze, nostrils flaring as he took in your anxious scent. “What’s wrong?”

“I...uh....” you gulped, looking at the floor. You were too scared to make eye contact, even with the man you loved so much.

“Babe?” he asked, approaching you. His normally rough voice was softer now, red eyes full of concern.

“Remember my last heat?” you asked, daring to glance up at him. Fuck, he was so big...you were starting to understand why other alphas were so scared of him.

“Course.” he chuckled. “How could I forget? You were so fuckin’ wet, baby...”

“Y-yeah, well...um...” you turned, heading for the kitchen counter. You didn’t know how to use your words anymore. Maybe showing him would be easier.

Katsuki followed at your heels, reaching for your wrist. He managed to catch you, but not before you grabbed something and spun back around to face him, the item hidden behind your back.

“You have to promise not to be mad.” you said, voice wavering slightly.

“I’m never mad at you, babe.” he growled. “But you’d better fuckin’ show me what you’re hiding.”

Nodding quickly, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your hand out towards him.

When you didn’t hear anything, you peeked up at him.

He was staring, his eyes wide. His gaze was focused on the pregnancy test in your hand, chest rising and falling with every breath.

You immediately panicked.

“I-I’m sorry!” you blurted, backing up until you hit the counter. “I-I didn’t expect this to happen, it never has before, I don’t know what--”

“Omega.” he interrupted, chest vibrating with a loud purr. “Is that test positive?”

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes.

Then, the widest smile you’d ever seen lit up his face, and he was sweeping you off your feet.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked, spinning you around.

“Y-yes,” you answered, chest still tight with anxiety.

“Finally.” he set you back down on your feet, his arms still tight around you. “Been waitin’ so long...”

“Wh-what?” you asked, wiping at your tears. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” he scoffed. “Why the fuck would I be mad? I’ve always wanted pups with you. Just didn’t know if you were ready or not.”

“Oh.” you let out a laugh as your chest finally loosened up a bit. “I guess I am...”

“Hey.” he leaned his forehead against yours, that purr still rumbling in his chest. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re mine forever, ‘n don’t you fuckin’ forget that.”

#abo #alpha!bakugou #alpha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagines #alpha!bakugou x omega!reader

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Safe

Pairing: SBI family x reader (platonic, one shot), BASED OFF FROM CHARACTERS NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE

Warnings: child abuse/neglect, bullying, alcoholism, death of a parent, mentions of panic attacks, injury, mentions of a dog’s death, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of suicide attempts, depression

Word count: 7,730

(A/N): if you’re not feeling safe at home or are being abused, please contact the proper authorities. Here’s the abuse hotline: 1-800-799-7233, my DMs are always open if you want to talk

You met Tommy and Tubbo when you were in third grade. You were a relatively quiet kid, the type to always keep to themselves and abstain from social activity. Mrs. Jansen, being the nice woman that she was, let the entire class choose their own seats.

“Welcome to your first day of third grade, class! I’m Mrs. Jansen and I look forward to getting to know all of you. As you can see, there are enough desks for all of you. You may sit with who you want.”

You shifted around uneasily and gripped your book in your hands as your classmates hurried to get the back seats. After every seat was taken, you walked to the only seat left in the front. You were between a girl and a boy. They introduced themselves as Dorothy and Samuel, and were relatively kind to you.

As the class passed their second week, two boys that sat in the back row made themselves apparent very quickly. They were both rambunctious, always disrupting the class with their giggles and whispers. Mrs. Jansen had warned them multiple times that she was going to separate them, but it seemed that they didn’t think she’d do it. One day, she finally had enough.

“Tommy, Tubbo. I’ve given you plenty of warnings, I’m going to have to separate you. Dorothy, Samuel, can you please switch places with them?”

You could feel dread wash over you. Why was she putting you between them?! What did you do wrong to deserve this? You could swear that you’ve done all your chores, you even made your mom smile at you! She never did that.

They pouted as they sat next to you, Tommy on your right and Tubbo on your left. You already missed Samuel and Dorothy. “Thank you. (Y/n), make sure they behave.”

You shrunk down into your seat as you felt Tommy’s glare burning holes into the side of your head. Tubbo, on the other hand, was watching the lesson with bored eyes and his chin propped up in his hand. You tried to take notes, but you kept getting distracted by Tommy’s heated glare. You were going to fall behind, you couldn’t have that. Mama wouldn’t like that.

After the final bell rang, you hurried out of the classroom to avoid Tommy’s wrath. You could hear him shouting for you to stop, but you never stopped until your hand was grabbed and yanked backwards in the empty playground. You fell back onto the pavement of the basketball court and whimpered at the sting in your palms.

Tommy glared down at you, “you gonna cry? Serves you right. Never tell on Tubbo and I. Got it?”

You tearfully nodded and he grinned maliciously at you, “good. Tubbo, let’s go. Wil and Tech’s probably waiting for us.”

The brunet was staring at Tommy with a shocked expression, unmoving. Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed before he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the crowd of families. Tubbo looked back at you with an apologetic expression and watched as you looked at your scratched up palms.

You wiped at your tears as you stood up and started to walk home. Your neighbor’s dog behind the wired fence barked at you as you hurried past it. You never liked that dog; it was a drooling, angry, ugly furball. It scared you, but not as much as Mama did when she drank her adult juice. She was scary when she drank it. You tried hiding it from her once but she grounded you from eating dinner and snacks for half a month. You didn’t try to hide it again.

You trudged up the creaky wooden stairs of your porch and tried to open the door only to find it locked. You tried to knock on the door but Mama didn’t answer so you just sat on the front porch waiting for her to open the door. She did so when the sun was setting, surprise and then anger shining through her hazy eyes. She yelled at you before she sent you to your room for the night without dinner.

The next day when you were sitting alone at a lunch table, someone plopped down in the seat next to you. You jumped and scooted away from them, looking up only to see Tubbo. He was smiling at you.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about Tommy, he gets mad easily.”

You eyed him warily and clutched your open book, “...it’s okay.”

He grinned and scooted closer to you, peering over your shoulder at the book. “What’re you reading?”

“‘Harry Potter’.”

“Oh I love that book! My favorite character’s Ron, who’s yours?”

Surprisingly, the conversation was pleasant before he was dragged away by a glaring Tommy. You might actually make a friend after all. Later that day after school, Tommy once again stopped you in the school yard. This time, he shoved you to the ground and started to shout at you.

“You do not talk to him, freak! You’re gonna mess him up, he talks to me and me only. Do you unde-undastunend?”

You gulped and shakily spoke up, “yes, and it’s ‘understand’, not ‘undastunend’.”

His glare intensified before he reared back a fist. You yelped as you curled into a ball with your hands protecting your head. Before he could hit you, you heard the stomping of shoes against the concrete.

“TOMMY STOP.”

You could feel a hand on your back and a gentle voice asking if you were alright. You hesitated before you looked up to see an older boy with a mop of curly brown hair on his head and wire glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He reminded you of Harry Potter. Looking past him, you saw a tall pink haired boy glaring and lecturing Tommy, holding the struggling boy in place with a firm grip on his elbow. Tubbo was just behind him looking down and shifting on the balls of his feet.

“I am so sorry about Tommy, are you alright? He didn’t hit you did he?”

You shook your head and the boy heaved a sigh of relief, “that’s good. I’m Wilbur and that’s Technoblade, we’re Tommy and Tubbo’s brothers. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).”

He smiled at you, “that’s a lovely name.”

“Wilbur, let’s go. This one,” Technoblade shook Tommy’s arm, “needs to talk to Dad.”

You watched as Tommy’s movements stopped and he looked up with wide eyes. “No, please don’t tell Dad. Please-”

Wilbur stood and helped you up before grabbing Tubbo’s hand and lead him away, “you aren’t weaseling your way out of this.”

You watched the brothers leave, feeling guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to get him in trouble, punishments were the absolute worst. Even though he shoved you and almost punched you, he didn’t deserve any punishment. With guilt weighing down on your shoulders, you walked home. At least Mama was in a good mood, she made you some mac n cheese for dinner.

The next day, Tommy trudged up to your desk and put a tupperware dish on your desk before sitting down in his seat and ignored you. Tubbo sat in his seat next to you and smiled at you.

“Open it,” he jumped in his seat slightly as he watched your expression change to shock. In the container laid five chocolate chip cookies. You had only had cookies once in your life and that was during a class birthday celebration a year ago. “They’re our Dad’s secret recipe, I helped make them! Um, Tommy wanted to apologize to you.”

You glanced at Tommy. He was glancing at you over his shoulder and blushed a bright red when he saw you looking at him. Tubbo cleared his throat and gestured at Tommy. The blond crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “Sorry,” he mumbled halfheartedly.

After that, they started to sit next to you during lunch. Tommy was a bit cold towards you, but you found yourself beginning to relax around Tubbo’s friendly aura. Soon enough, you started to supply him with more than a few words per sentence. Tommy eventually got bored of eating in silence and would join your conversation. You three became thick as thieves that year, you even met their Dad. He was very different from Mama; he never yelled at you, he was always giving you snacks, and he even smiled at you often.

That house became like a second home to you. Eventually, you ended up spending more time at the Minecraft residence than you spent at home with your mom. Over the years, she got worse with her drinking. She was always passed out on the couch and when she wasn’t, she was swaying on her feet in the kitchen staring at a portrait with dazed, wistful eyes. You can remember when you first realized that she had a problem and always being unhappy and drunk was, in fact, not normal for a parent.

It was a warm spring day in seventh grade. Luckily, you had your health class with Tommy and Tubbo. You were currently learning about alcohol dependency and the effects it had on the body. The teacher listed all the symptoms your mom had; the uncontrollable urge to drink, the aggression, the shakiness and dizziness, everything. When you came to the realization that your mother might have a problem, the teacher started to explain the disorders and diseases that could come from heavy drinking, most of them having the potential to be fatal if the drinking persisted. You felt like you were drenched in icy water as your body seized up in fear for your mother. You stared unseeingly at your notebook at the symptoms of alcoholism and associated disorders. You didn’t want your mom to die. You had to do something before it was too late for her.

“(Y/n)?” You jumped and looked at the person who called your name. Tommy and Tubbo were giving you worried stares. “Are you okay?”

You shakily started to put your supplies away into your backpack. The class had been dismissed and you didn’t even realize it. “Y-yeah. It’s just- I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I’m worried too,” Tommy laughed as you followed the two out of the classroom and to the courtyard. “That essay’s gonna be awful.”

“Oh god we have an essay?”

“Yeah, Mr. Smithers assigned it to us before the bell rang, are you sure you’re okay? You’re usually on top of this stuff.” Tubbo threw a worried glance towards you.

“Yeah, just a bit distracted today. I uh, have to go home. Like right now, my mom wants me home right after school today.”

You sprinted off towards your house. When you reached your neighborhood and ran past the wired fence. The bulldog that lived there was now old and gray. You found out that his name was Buster and he was actually a total sweetheart if you slept next to him on the other side of the fence on more than one occasion. Buster watched from inside his doghouse as you sprinted into the house. Luckily for you, the door was unlocked and your mother was passed out on the couch surrounded by glass bottles. You locked the door behind you as you rushed over to her intensely watching for any sign of movement. She looked dead, her skin was pale, her hair matted, and her mouth gaping open showing off her yellow stained teeth. She wasn’t moving, were you too late?

Just as you started to panic, she snorted and started to breathe. You slumped in relief as you stepped over the beer bottles into the kitchen. The table was sparkly clean with a pristine picture frame resting in the middle, a stark contrast of the beer bottles that littered the floor and the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. It was of a man standing stiffly in a military uniform saluting at the camera with a stern expression. He was an exact copy of you. Well, you were an exact copy of him; that man was your late father.

“Hey Dad, how was your day? Mine was awful, I learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis today and- and I’m worried about Mom. She’s been drinking a lot lately.”

You stared at your dad’s face behind the glass as if expecting a response. You wanted some reassurance from the man. You wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay and that he’d handle it so you could be a normal kid. Like usual, his steely expression didn’t budge one bit.

You sighed to yourself sadly and trudged to the refrigerator opening the door. The beer bottles stared back at you tauntingly. Your fingers twitched on the fridge door as you contemplated the consequences of throwing away the offending glass bottles. You remembered in second grade when you hid your mother’s alcohol she punished you by withholding food from you. She’d probably do worse this time, but the consequences were worth it if you were going to save your mother’s life.

It took you ten minutes of tossing alcohol into the garbage can until the fridge was left barren of the drink. Without the green bottles, the fridge was completely empty with the exception of milk and a few probably rotten eggs. You struggled to take the trash out to the curb and started to work on homework in your room.

At seven at night, you could hear her roll off the couch and stumble into the kitchen. A series of frantic rustling and banging sounded downstairs before you could hear pounding footsteps storm up the stairs. Your door flung open to reveal your red-faced, livid mother.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“M-mom I hid them because we learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis and-” You cut yourself off when she walked over to you with her arms extended towards your trembling frame. You tried to scoot as far away from her as possible, but she grabbed your shoulders with clammy but firm hands, shaking you roughly.

“Are you saying I have a problem?! You spoiled fucking brat, you’re the problem! Everything was amazing before you came and fucked up my life. You took him away from me. YOU FUCKING KILLED MY HUSBAND.”

You could feel tears start to drip down your cheeks as you remembered that day in first grade when you begged your dad to get you some McDonalds for dinner. When he relented, you cheered and your mom laughed at your excitement. She was so full of life back then; her hair was shiny and bouncy, her skin was unmarked and flawless, her eyes were lively and bright. Her laughter was perhaps your favorite memory of her. Then everything went to shit when your dad never came home and your mom got a phone call saying that your dad was killed in a car wreck on impact. You could remember your mother’s heart wrenching sobs as she collapsed to the floor and pulled you tight against her body. As if she was trying to protect what was left of her husband.

You were snapped back to reality when your mom shoved you back onto your bed. The happy, beautiful woman that you saw was replaced by the shell of a broken woman. Her silky hair turned dull, her smile turned into a grotesque scowl, her loving eyes turned cold. She truly was a husk of her former self.

“Stop crying, you’re not the one who’s life was ruined. I want you out of my house in ten minutes. You’re gonna not step foot anywhere near here for two weeks. If I even see you on my property before those two weeks are up, you’re fucking dead.”

You frantically nodded and watched as she stumbled out of her room. You packed what you would need in your spare backpack and ran out of the house past your mother sobbing and babbling incoherently to your dad. You flinched when you could hear a bang and the sound of glass shattering when she threw a bottle at your retreating figure.

You ran until you couldn’t run anymore. Your legs brought you to the park where you spent most of your childhood. Everywhere you looked, you could see glimpses of your mom and dad pushing you on the swing, Tommy and Tubbo running from you playing tag, Mr. Minecraft putting a bandaid on your scraped knee. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you pushed yourself up and went to your safe place. It was a little nook deep in the vegetation where nobody could see you. You originally found this place when you were playing hide and seek with Tommy and Tubbo. They never knew where you hid.

Tears moistened the soil underneath you as you pulled out a blanket you had hid in a plastic grocery bag and spread it out on the floor. You curled up on it and cried freely into your hands. You didn’t sleep much that night.

That was the first time she had kicked you out for that long. You barely ate in those two weeks, wolfing down any food you could get your hands on at lunch. Lunch for you was the small scraps of food that Tommy and Tubbo shared with you. Mom never packed you lunches or gave you money to buy things anymore. To make matters worse, they had told their dad that they thought you had some form of eating disorder.

About a week into your exile, you finally visited the Minecraft residence after avoiding them for a week. You remembered how the blond man pulled you aside into the kitchen. He gently sat you down and pushed a plate full of chicken and vegetables in front of you. You looked at him confused as he gestured towards the plate.

“Eat that, I heard you haven’t been eating much lately.” When you made no move to eat, he smiled at you. “Go ahead, it’s okay if you don’t eat it all. Just eat some of it.”

That was all you needed to hear, you began to eat quickly like a starving wolf. It’s been a while since you had more than half an apple to eat, let alone an actual homemade meal. When you were done, you looked up to see the older man looking at you worriedly.

“...Are you not getting enough food at home?”

You scrambled to find a lie, “my- my mom is away a lot on business trips. We don’t really eat much.”

His worried expression grew tenfold as he moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on your shoulders. “You need to eat three meals a day, especially now that you’re growing. You’re always welcome here when your mom’s away, our door’s always open. Is she away now?”

“Yeah, she won’t be home until next week.” You felt bad for lying to the man that put bandaids on your scraped knees and took you to the father daughter dance in fifth grade when he heard that your dad was dead. He was always so kind to you, which you never quite understood. Despite feeling bad for lying to him, you felt incredibly relieved that you didn’t have to be alone anymore.

From then on out whenever she kicked you out, you went to the Minecraft residence. They welcomed you with open arms and treated you like you were a part of the family. You and Techno bonded over your love for reading and mythology, Wilbur made sure you took care of yourself, and Philza (he told you to just call him Phil at that point) treated you like his own child. You didn’t think that it was possible for you, Tommy, and Tubbo to be any closer than you already were, but you three became inseparable. You told them everything one night when you couldn’t sleep. You told them how you felt like you were the cause of your mother’s decline and your dad’s death, how she would usually punish you, her ‘hobby’. They were about to tell Philza, but you begged them not to. After a while of pleading and assuring them that she’d never hit you, they hesitantly agreed and made you promise to call them whenever you felt unsafe in your home.

You kept to that promise, calling them whenever she would get too drunk to know what she was doing. They would calm you down from panic attacks late at night and invite you to their house in the daytime. They felt like your actual brothers and you started to refer to them as such. You three gave each other a shoulder to lean on and gave each other comfort when needed. One night when you were in your freshman year, however, your mother caught you sneaking out to see them after she sent you to your room. That was when she started to hit you.

Just as you were about to sneak out the front door, your mother started to scream at you incoherently. When you flinched away from when she got up in your face, she became even more enraged.

“WHERE WERE YOU GOING? I BET YOU’RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT, AREN’T YOU LITTLE SLUT?”

Without thinking, you yelled back at her, “I would never! Why-” You were cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek sending you to the ground. She quieted down and stared at you and her hand, a glint of shock shining through her dazed eyes. Without a word, she turned around and left to go talk to your dad. You sat there listening to her rant about how she failed as a mother, how she wanted to do better but she didn’t know how, how she wished that he was there with her. You scrambled up and ran to your room. You looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a bright red mark on your cheek in the shape of a hand. There was a small cut where her wedding ring connected with your cheek. A single drop of blood dripped down your cheek and curved down the dip of your chin before dripping onto your shirt. Without doing anything else, you plopped down onto your bed and sobbed into your pillow, crying yourself to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, you realized that you slept through half of the school day so it was useless to go to school now. You reached up to run a hand down your face only to hiss and pull your hand away. You once again looked at yourself in the mirror.

You looked terrible. Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen like you were crying in your sleep. Hair was sticking up in all directions and matted slightly. The slap mark was gone, but the cut had bruising around the edges with dried blood crusted on your cheek and on your pillow. It was a small cut, but it bled a surprising amount overnight. You couldn’t see Tommy or Tubbo like this, they’d flip out. Luckily for you it was a Friday and you had the weekend to heal.

Your mother gradually started to hit you more and more. It started off as a once-a-week thing whenever she was really angry, but then it divulged into something that would happen daily over the smallest things. You became her punching bag for her to release some steam. Makeup became your best friend at that point; you used what little savings you saved over the years for dollar store makeup.

Soon after it became a struggle to hide the cuts and bruises from Tommy and Tubbo, so you gradually started to avoid them. Your face, once synonymous with the Minecraft residence and Tommy and Tubbo, became a rarity. They tried their hardest to contact you, but you always dodged their calls. After a few months of you dodging Tommy and Tubbo, you finally told them that you didn’t want to be friends with them anymore.

It broke your heart to say it, but it had to be done. They were getting too close to the truth and you couldn’t have that; the government would take you away from your mom and she’d end up dead. You were the only one keeping her alive at this point, she lost all motivation to eat. The only thing she did nowadays was hit you, drink, and hug your dad’s photo to her chest.

The beatings got to the point where you could barely walk without feeling pain. School became something that you’d rarely attend. Tommy and Tubbo stopped trying to talk to and call you. Buster, your previous confidant, had long since died so you were truly alone in the world. The neighbor’s yard looked barren without the dog house and the graying dog. The only person you had left was your mom.

When you had accidentally burnt dinner late at night, she completely snapped. She grabbed your arm and held it on top of the burner. Pain hit you immediately as you screamed and cried apologies to her. When you instinctively hit her with your other hand, she dug her nails into your arm and pushed your arm closer onto the burner. Nerve endings screamed at you to get away from the pain. The pain was becoming too much, so you looked on the countertop next to you for something to defend yourself with. A metal fork was lying close to your other hand.

You grabbed it and, with a distraught apology to your mother, drove the prongs deep into her arm. She screamed in pain and let your arm go. You ripped yourself out of her grasp and started to run for the front door. A force collided with the back of your shoulder making pain explode in the area. You didn’t know what happened at first, but after hearing the shattering of glass, you realized that she threw a beer bottle at you. You could feel the sting of alcohol and glass mingling with your open wounds on your shoulder. The sting was almost as bad as your arm, but you didn’t stop running especially when you glanced behind you to see her running at you with a knife raised and the fork protruding from her arm.

You flung open the door and sprinted out without bothering to close the door behind you. As your bare feet hit the sidewalk, you could hear your mother stop at the end of the stairs and shout at you to come back. You never stopped.

You didn’t stop until your feet took you to the Minecraft residence’s front door. Nobody was on the street as it was about eleven at night. You hesitated to knock on their door, you ignored the family for the past six months, and you weren’t sure if they even wanted you there. After five minutes of thinking, you just sighed as you walked back down the wooden stairs and walked back towards the sidewalk.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” You froze up at Tommy’s sleep riddled voice. You stayed frozen as you heard him stomp over to you. He placed a firm hand on your injured shoulder and forced you to turn around. His angry expression faded into a concerned one when he heard you start to sob and flinch away from him.

“Wha- shit are you bleeding?” You nodded slightly and he gently turned you back around to see a patch of darkened cloth on your shirt. You could feel him shaking as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the house. He plopped you at the dining room table and told you to wait there. With that, he sprinted up the stairs and brought back a serious Philza holding a first aid kit.

When he saw you bruised and battered, you could hear him take in a sharp intake of breath and saw unbridled anger flash across his face. You flinched away from him when he approached you.

“Hey,” he said in a gentle voice, “I won’t hurt you. Can you show me where you’re hurt?”

You eyed him warily like a scared wild animal and reluctantly moved your burned arm away from your chest and showed it to him. This was the first time you saw your forearm; it was an ugly red that expanded up the majority of the underside of your forearm with skin burned off at the edges. Yellow, fluid-filled blisters were starting to form.

You could hear Tommy’s horrified gasp as he turned to run out of the room. You kept your gaze downwards as Philza warned you that he was about to put disinfectant on your wound. He apologized to you when you whimpered in pain at the sting of the alcohol on your exposed nerves. After he was finished wrapping your arm, he asked you to show him where else you’re injured. You turned around so he could see the growing patch of blood staining your now ripped shirt. You could feel him gently move your shirt to the side and heard him wince.

“Shit, there’s glass in here. I’m going to have to get some tweezers to get it out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You were then alone in the kitchen for a moment before he came back with a worried Wilbur and Techno in tow. The brunet pulled up a chair next to you and asked if it was alright to hold your hand. After you hesitantly nodded, he grabbed your hand and started to run his thumb over your knuckles. Techno held a light close to your shoulder as Philza started to tweeze out the green tinted glass from your shoulder.

Every time you would suck in air through your teeth and muffle your yelps with your other hand, Wilbur would whisper reassurances to you and hold your hand tighter. After the glass was out, the wound was disinfected, and wrapped in gauze, Philza told the boys to leave the room. He grabbed both of your hands and gave you the best reassuring smile that he could.

“Tell me what happened.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried Phil, I really did. She never got better no matter what I did.”

“What do you mean, are you talking about your mom?” You could hear the angry undertone of his voice. You tensed up and nodded.

“She… she needs help. She was never the same after Dad died, she started drinking. It started off with only one beer a day, but after seventh grade she was going through an entire case in a day. She’d punish me if I said or did anything about it. No dinner for a week was a popular one until she started to ban me from the house for weeks on end. She never went on business trips, Phil. She got a knife today. I-I thought she was actually gonna kill me this time, I was so scared.”

Without another word, he pulled you into a tight hug, letting you sob freely into his shoulder. “It was my fault, I couldn’t help her! She- she needed me and I couldn’t help her.” You said between sobs. He hugged you tighter and started to rub your back, making sure to avoid your shoulder. “None of this is your fault, you can’t help someone if they don’t want help. Sometimes you can’t fix someone who’s too far gone.”

“Am I too far gone?”

“No, you aren’t. We’ll help you through this, we won’t let anybody hurt you ever again. You’re gonna go on to live a good life.” You passed out in his arms after a while of crying.

When you woke up, you were in Tommy and Tubbo’s room. The two boys jumped to your side and pulled you into a tight group hug. After you tried to apologize to them for how you treated them in the past six months, they shushed you and just sat there in silence hugging you.

Later that day you found out that your mother was found by your neighbor on the front porch with her wrists slit and empty beer bottles surrounding her. She was breathing, but just barely. Currently she was in an unstable condition in the hospital. You had a full breakdown when you found out that she almost killed herself because of you. You had run out of the house and to your safe place in the park. You hadn’t been there in a few years, so you hoped that it was still there.

Sure enough, it was still there albeit a bit overgrown. The blanket in the plastic bag was in the same place where you left it. You had no idea how long you were sitting there crying and having a panic attack, but when you came to your senses it was dark outside. You could hear crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves in the entrance of your hideout.

A brunet head poked itself in and smiled when he saw you. Tubbo fully came into the nook and gestured for someone to follow. Tommy’s blond hair made itself apparent before he joined you two inside.

“Nice little place you have here. It’s… homey.” Tubbo rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on them. You threw one side of the blanket at him and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Thanks, I used to sleep here sometimes… How’d you find me?”

“We could hear you,” Tommy pulled out his phone and typed something on it before pocketing it and sitting next to you. He covered himself with the blanket as Tubbo followed suit. You sat in silence before Tommy broke it.

“How long has she been hittin you?”

“Tommy!” Tubbo scolded him.

“She started about six months ago.”

“Six months ago… that was when you cancelled plans! I knew something was wrong Tubbo.”

Tubbo said nothing as he looked at you with a helpless expression. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything’s my fault. I’m the reason my mom’s in the hospital right now fighting for her life. I wasn’t there for her.” You would’ve started crying if it weren’t for the fact that you just felt so drained and numb.

“The fuck do you mean? She was about to kill you! You told us that she was about to stab you, what else were you supposed to do, just let her kill you?!” Tommy exclaimed.

You shrugged, “maybe. If she did she’d be happy, I was just a burden to her. I- I just wanted her to be happy and I would never be able to do that as long as I’m alive. If she killed me she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now.”

“What the fuck (y/n),” Tubbo shouted, startling you. He never shouts, let alone swears. “How could you even say that? I don’t know what I’d do without you, everything would be so boring and nothing would be the same without you. Fuck her happiness, she’s a wretched woman if the only way she can be happy is when you’re dead. Fuck her.”

You and Tommy stared at the seething boy in shock. He never shouted when he was angry, he only did that once when he found out that Tommy was being bullied. Whenever he sweared, that’s when you knew his emotions were hitting him at full force. Tommy quickly recovered from his shock to join him, “yeah fuck her, man! She can go suck a dick.” He was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Dad’s here, c’mon he’s worried sick about you.” After they helped you out of your safe place, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked you to the parking lot. You could see the headlights of the lone car in the lot turn off before the door swung open and a figure rushed towards you. You pushed yourself behind Tommy and Tubbo and hid behind them fearfully. They both turned around and put a hand on your shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s our dad.”

You peeked over their shoulders and saw a mop of disheveled, long blond hair. Philza looked like he was just told that there was an antidote for a fatal poison he just ingested, despite the flash of hurt that showed on his face. His blue eyes were accentuated by the redness of his sclera and you can see the relief painted in them. A gentle smile was on his face as he moved his arms up. Without another word, you launched yourself at him and pulled him into the tightest hug you could manage with your shoulder.

“Are your accusations true, Mx. (L/n)?”

Your gaze flickered over to your mother sitting on the other side of the courtroom. She looked at you with no expression on her face. Her wrists were wrapped tightly in a white bandage that was a stark contrast to the bright orange prison uniform and the silver of the handcuffs. She wasn’t the woman you knew when your dad was alive. The life was sucked out of her the second she picked up that phone call.

You looked back at the lawyer, “yes sir.”

“I have no further questions, your honor.”

“You may return to your seat, Mx. (L/N).”

You stood up and walked as confidently as you could past the dull eyes of your mother and back to your seat between Tommy and Tubbo. You held their hands tightly as the trial moved onwards. Buster’s owner even stepped up to the witness stand to give his testimony. Apparently he knew about the abuse from your late night conversations with Buster. He had contacted CPS and the police multiple times but the case was always dropped for some reason that you couldn’t bring yourself to ponder. A few of your previous teachers even showed up to give their testimonies. Their words, though true and slightly sweet, rubbed you the wrong way. If they ‘knew something was happening at home with you’, then why didn’t they do anything when it was happening? You tried to focus on the rest of the trial.

Your mother’s only witness was herself, and she did a piss poor job at it. She was basically digging her own grave with every word that came out of her mouth. The entire time, she was staring at you with her infamous dull eyes.

“Do you have any further points you would like to add, Mrs. (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have always loved my child. They were my husband’s pride and joy, the splitting image of him. Their rightful place is safe with their real parent at our home.”

You could feel Tommy attempt to stand up, but you pulled him back down; now was not the time for him to start yelling in anger. Tubbo squeezed your hand in reassurance and glanced at you. You were staring at the woman you called your mother with pain and hate filled eyes. You wished her words were sincere, but you knew fully well that they weren’t. The words that left her mouth would’ve been one hundred percent true and genuine when your dad was still alive, but he’s buried six feet under in a military cemetary now and he has been for years. You would’ve given anything, even your own life, for those words to be true a month ago, but you knew better now. Mothers don’t treat their kids like this, they’re supposed to give their children their unconditional love and take care of them. As far as you were concerned, she was no longer your mother. She forfeited that title the second she turned to the bottle. Philza is and will always be more of a parental figure than she’ll ever be.

After the jury left to discuss, the court was in a recess. You slipped out of the room and speed walked to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You could see heavy eye bags under your dull eyes. The dullness of your eyes, to your horror, reminded you of your mother, so you splashed your face with water. That fixed it, your eyes were slightly brighter. You could still see the faint outline of the scar on your cheek from when she first hit you. Small scars littered your face from the more recent wounds she gave you before you ran.

A knock sounded at the door, “(y/n), the recess is almost over.” It was Techno.

You patted your face dry and went to leave the bathroom. The pink haired boy that you now saw as your older brother was waiting patiently for you on the other side. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and led you back to the courtroom. There, the rest of the Minec- no, your family was waiting for you. Just as you reached them, the judge announced that the jurors would be arriving back. The entire courtroom stood as they walked in.

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.

“We have.”

“Mrs. (L/n) and Mr. Langsburg, would you stand and face the jury? You may read the verdict.”

“We the jury of the state court find the defendant guilty under the charges of child abuse and child neglect.”

Tommy clapped a hand on your shoulder as Tubbo squeezed your hand. They both smiled widely at you. You, however, didn’t acknowledge them. You were only staring at the empty eyes of your mother as she was looking at the jury. Her reaction was akin to her breaking a pencil, like it didn’t matter to her. Like all the years abuse that she put you through didn’t matter was as trivial as breaking a pencil.

“So say you all?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“I hereby sentence Mrs. (L/n) to twelve years in the state penitentiary with no opportunity of parole. Mr. Philza Minecraft shall be bestowed the custody of Mx. (Y/n) (l/n) as they do not have any next of kin. Court is adjourned.” With that, she banged the gavel and the courtroom exploded in the bustling of people. You never took your eyes off from your mo- no, the monster with the dull eyes as she picked at something in her nails boredly. Just as she looked up to meet your gaze, Tommy pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. You were passed around the family in the courtroom for their individual hugs. Philza’s was comforting, Tubbo’s was congratulatory, Wilbur’s was warm, and Techno’s was slightly awkward, yet soft.

At home, you spent most of your time in the spare room Philza had given you. He had offered to help you decorate it, but you had no idea where to start. You were never allowed to have decorations in your old room. You kept the room simplistic and your possessions light.

You often stared at your dad’s portrait on your nightstand wondering what your life could’ve been like if you never asked him for McDonalds that day. Your family probably would’ve been stationed in who knows where and moved around often, as is customary in most military families. You probably would’ve never met Tommy and Tubbo in third grade. You probably would’ve never met your now older brothers and new father. You didn’t want to imagine a life without them.

After a few days of you being locked up in your room, Tommy and Tubbo came into your room with mischievous grins. You knew them like the back of your hand, so you knew the second you saw their faces that they were about to do something. You sat up and looked at them suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re not doing anything, (y/n). Right Tubbo?”

“Right Tommy.” Tubbo nodded curtly. They still had grins on their faces. They walked over to your bed before they picked you up and walked you out of the room. You didn’t have the energy to fight them, so you laid limp in their arms. They eventually took you down to the living room and plopped you down onto the couch between them. Techno tossed them a blanket when they then used to wrap you tightly into a blanket burrito. The home screen of Disney Plus was pulled up on the TV and the curtains were drawn. Philza and Wilbur exited the kitchen with glasses of water and two big bowls of popcorn.

They smiled widely when they saw you squashed between your brothers, putting a bowl of popcorn in your lap and three glasses of water nearby. The two next to you dug into the popcorn as the rest of the family made themselves comfortable on the couch.

“What are we doing?”

“Movie night! We’re gonna binge the Marvel movies, your favorite!” Tubbo grinned at you, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Just double checking, the order is Captain America, Captain Marvel, Iron Mans One and Two, Incredible Hulk, Avengers, Thor-”

You cut Wilbur off with a mumbled “first Thor, then the first Avengers movie.”

“Glad I asked then! The timeline would’ve been thrown off.”

As the movies progressed, you started to finally feel like you belonged as a part of the family. Laughter came easier to you, mingling effortlessly with the family’s laughter. Every time you laughed at a scene, they would give you a smile and laugh alongside you. Eventually after about halfway through Captain America: The Winter Soldier, everyone had fallen asleep on the couch. Soft snores and the quiet sounds of the occasional fight scene filled the room as your eyelids started to close involuntarily. You looked around the room at the rest of your family. They all looked peaceful in their slumber. Tommy and Tubbo’s protective hold of their arms around your shoulders made you feel safe. It was in that moment that you realized that they would never let anyone hurt you ever again. You were a part of an actual, loving family. With that, you let yourself fall asleep into a peaceful slumber surrounded by the people that loved you the most.

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phantomrose96 · 3 years

Text

Joyrider

(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)

...

The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.

It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.

Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.

So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.

“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”

“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”

Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.

“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”

The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.

“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”

Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—

A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.

Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.

“Get off me!”

And a voice answered from behind him.

“I can help with that.”

Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.

The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.

“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”

The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.

“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”

“Hey,” Danny answered.

“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”

The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”

Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.

“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Tucker, from behind.

“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.

Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”

“Lay her down, maybe?”

“Good idea.”

Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.

“Danny!”

“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”

“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.

“What?” Danny asked.

“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”

“Loose?”

“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”

Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.

“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”

Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.

Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.

Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.

“Danny, she’s not breathing.”

The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.

…

Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.

A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.

“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”

“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.

“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”

“Why were you possessing that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you possessing her?”

The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”

“A joyr—she was dead.”

Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”

Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”

“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”

“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”

“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”

An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.

“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”

Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”

“The. Dead. Body.”

And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”

“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”

Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”

A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”

Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”

Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”

Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”

An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.

“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”

And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.

“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”

“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”

Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”

“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”

Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”

“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”

“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”

“Go.”

“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”

“Go.”

“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”

A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.

…

“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”

Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.

“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”

Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.

“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”

Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”

“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.

Danny only stared.

Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”

Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.

What might happen when it hit him?

Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?

Would it do something else?

Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?

Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it out?”

Danny stood.

Danny stared.

Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #long post #this idea is actually from uhhhhhh probably like 2 years ago #back when i was still in the midst of not being able to write anything so #stuck this idea in the microwave for this warm up fic

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landinoandco · 3 years

Note

Could I ask for a Max Verstappen request?

Where you get all excited to tell him you’re pregnant and it doesn’t go well. Could you make it super angsty

Of course you can :) here you go, I hope you enjoy!

Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: angst but with fluff at the end

Word count: 2.2 k

Requests are open...

Baby, the future is ours

At last the summer break had rolled around again, to the relief of the Formula one drivers and crew, they had 3 long weeks ahead of them to fill with whatever they deemed stress-free or relaxing. The subject of activity depending on person to person - most sane folk tended to stick to a holiday to Greece or if you were an adrenaline junkie like Daniel Ricciardo jumping out of planes or BMX biking. You had lost count of the times Max - your boyfriend - had rushed in to tell you about all of the exciting things his best friend had gotten up to as of late.

You and Max had decided to take a break and travel to a cosy, quiet part of Italy - to escape the press, the stress and most importantly the eagle eye of social media. It would just be you and him for a few weeks before reality brought you back to Milton Keynes in the shape of Christian Horner and his motley crew.

You and Max had met in 2018 at a gala event Redbull had hosted, Pierre Gasly - being a close friend of yours - had introduced you two and to say the pair of you hit it off instantly was an understatement, whether it was a mixture of the Dutch meets British humour you had no clue but you weren’t one to complain. A few months later and Max had asked you to travel around the world with him - you did so willingly and life had been nearing perfect ever since. Of course you had your ups and downs, where the universe seemed to really test not only your love for one and other but your patience. A few arguments had shown you that both being hot-headed never ended well.

You were sat out on the balcony, a book in hand and looking out into the Italien countryside. Max had left for a run and to explore the local village, leaving you, your thoughts and your growing baby. You were pregnant - you had taken the test just before flying out, this meant that Max wasn’t aware. You hadn’t told him yet and you had no clue how you were going to. As it turns out telling your partner you were pregnant was easier said than done - ironically.

You and Max hadn’t had the baby talk yet - you had but only along the lines of: “one day, when we’re older and married and driving isn’t the main priority anymore.” Those were Max’s words. He wanted to be there for his child, to watch him or her grow, to see every milestone but most importantly to be a good and nurturing father.

There was part of you that was slightly worried because you just didn’t know how Max would take it - you couldn’t keep it in any longer though. You had to tell him. There was another part of you that was excited - from a very young age you knew you wanted to have a family of your own with the person you loved the most. Call it childish naivety. At this point in time, you were ready to become a mother - well as ready as anyone ever could be.

Placing your book onto the table, you made your way into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and filled it. Sighing loudly as you leant onto the countertop.

“That was a loud sigh.” A voice called out from behind you. You recognised it instantly. Whipping your head around, you saw Max standing there, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Chuckling, you hit back, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your middle, placing a sweet, chaste kiss onto the side of your head. Leaning into his warm embrace, you let out another long but content sigh.

“Seriously, what is it with you and sighing today.” Max uttered, his lips still against the side of your head.

You went to move forward, out of his welcoming embrace. You knew what you had to do.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Instantly the atmosphere changed, you could feel Max stiffen behind you. Maybe the tone you chose to make that comment in was too serious but it was now or never.

“Haha, which of your friends is pregnant this time.” He quipped jokingly, trying to break the tension.

Instantly you knew the way the conversation was going to end, a pang of hurt felt in your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut, catching your lip with your teeth. He stood there with an air of innocence and unknown, concern dancing in his eyes - he went to reach his arm out to you, to offer that encouragement.

You braved the words that came out of your lips, “Me.” You almost whispered. Time seemed to slow. Max dropped his arm and instantly took a step back.

“Pardon.” Was the only thing he could force out of his mouth, his throat seemed to close up and his hands went clammy. He definitely heard you the first time but he wanted to make sure it wasn’t a night terror. A bad dream he had failed to wake from.

“I am, Max,” You said again, your voice wavering.

“Oh.” He stated, his face drained of colour, his mouth set in a straight line.

“Is that all you have to say.” You swallowed thickly, your eyes swam with tears. You had a hunch this was how it was going to end but it didn’t stop is from hurting the way it did. You had hoped he would have proved you wrong, to have wrapped his arms around you and to have spun you around. To have laughed. To have cried. To have shown a little more excitement to the fact you were now carrying his child. His first child.

You moved past him and sat down on one of the wooden chairs, rubbing your hands over your face. He was still stood there. His eyes fixated on the view out of the window. No emotion read in his eyes. It was almost like you had hit the ‘off’ button. He tapped his foot and made a clicking noise with his mouth before turning around to face you - meeting your gaze.

“How long have you known.” His voice was hoarse.

“A couple of days before we flew out.” You answered him, moving your face back to rest in your hands.

There was a pause. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner.”

You took a breath, looking him dead in the eye. “Because I knew this was how you were going to react.” You didn’t trust your voice at all, you also didn’t know whether you wanted to scream at him or cry in the corner.

“Right.” Was all he said. Still stood there like some awkward teenager after a rather large telling off from their mother.

“Is that all you have to say to me?” You asked him, nostrils flaring. You were allowed to be angry, right?

“What do you expect me to say.” He rounded on you, his voice raising more than was necessary. Tears had spilled down your cheeks, you didn’t have the energy to fight back. As soon as he realised the effect this was having on you, he went to move forward again, his eyes softening instantly. “I’m sorry - I - I shouldn’t have raised my-”

“Get out, Max.” You stated lowly. By this point, you had stood up, shuddering away from his desperate grasp. He knew he had made a mistake. You knew he regretted it, the moment the words had left his mouth.

“Get out?” He repeated quietly, his voice cracking, you could see tears glazing his vision.

“Just - please, go on a walk - come back once you have more to say to me.” You spat.

“But - But I already have more to say-” You cut his rambling off once again.

“Please. Max.” You insisted, your voice betraying you again. “Go.” You whispered.

Max stormed out of the door, ensuring to slam it so hard the chandelier on the ceiling swung precariously. You sank back into your chair and let out a loud sob, unable to hold it in any longer.

Max was mad. Not at you, that would be unfair. He was mad at himself. At the world. At everything actually because at this point why the hell not. You were pregnant - don’t get him wrong, he was over the moon. He was going to be a dad.

It was too soon.

He still had his full F1 career ahead of him. A promising and long F1 career as a matter of fact. He wanted a baby to be his main priority and he wanted to share those one in a lifetime moments with you. He knew there was no point in being mad, it wasn’t like they were in a position where they couldn’t have a child. They had plenty of things to offer, a nurturing home with parents who were head over heels in love with each other and a large family - blood and not - who would be willing to support and love the child as if it was their own. Max really was in love with you. He knew it would be you to mother his children in the end, he just didn’t think it would be now.

He reached for his phone, went into his contacts and pressed on the number that read the name: “D.R new phone.” Whilst it wasn’t adventurous like many thought it would be, it saved the confusion from calling a number that no longer existed.

Daniel picked up on the second ring. “Hey dude, how’s it going?”

“Not good at all, Dan, not good at all.” Max admitted, his voice wavering once again. He explained the events that had happened a mere 5 minutes ago, the way he reacted and the way he left you. Hurt and alone.

“I’m not going to lie to you, mate, you’ve fucked up big time.” Dan spoke after what felt like a loud silence. After all, Daniel knew you just as well as he knew Max.

“I know. I know I have, do you think I’ve been selfish?” He asked, his tone full of raw emotion.

“Yes.” Dan stated simply, “I think you have been, especially since she even told you this is how she thought you would react. How much stress do you think she had been putting on herself? Come one, I’ve taught you to be better than this.” Daniel paused, Max could almost hear him place his thumb and ring finger onto the bridge of his nose. “You know, just as well as I know, she knows it isn’t the best time. Her becoming pregnant is very much a two person job, I think it’s time that you go back to her and have a conversation like the adult I know you are.”

In that moment, Max was so grateful to have someone like Dan just a call away. “Thank you, Dan. Really. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Alright Mr Father-to-be, don’t be going all soppy on me now.” Daniel joked, returning back to his normal teasing. That was the best thing about Daniel, he was quite useful when you needed him to be.

“You can count yourself on being the godfather after that.” Max added, a large beaming smile plastered onto his face.

He heard Dan let out a loud laugh, “Go on, leave me be. Good luck, mate, let me know how it goes and when the time is right tell her I say congrats.”

“Of course, mate. Thank you, again.” Max muttered, looking back in the direction of the villa. After he hung up, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and ambled slowly - working out exactly what he was going to say to you.

Once he had opened the door, he called out to you. “Babe?” He heard a sniffle in response. You were still slumped on the chair in the kitchen, shooting daggers at the cupboard opposite.

Max sat opposite you, reaching out for your hand. Grudgingly you let him take it, you blinked and he took a deep breath before a large, beaming smile crept onto his face.

“We’re going to be parents.” He rubbed the back of your hand, speaking tentatively. You nodded, your lower lip trembled. Max stood up, still keeping a hold of your hand as he gave it a slight tug, indicating that you should stand up. You made your way into his embrace, his arms wrapping securely around you, tucking your face into the crook of your neck as he rocked gently side to side, burying his face into your hair. He then moved his hands to cradle your face, wiping the stray tears away before peppering your face with feather light kisses.

“We’re going to be parents.” He repeated, a little louder and to this you let out another sob, laughing as he picked you up and spun you around.

“I’m sorry. I was being selfish.” He said, as he wrapped you back up into his arms. You smiled into his chest. In that moment, you couldn’t be happier. It was like all of your childhood dreams had come true. In that kitchen stood your new family, mismatched and sometimes a little bit broken but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fanfic #f1blr #f1 2021 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #formula one one shot #formula 1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #fanfiction #f1 requests

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bush-viper-cutie · 3 years

Text

New Student, New Friend

Pairing: Young Snape x french!reader

Word Count: 2,751

Request: #1 “Hi! Can I request a young!Snape x french!reader where the reader's transferred from beauxbatons and isn't fluent in english/has a thick accent? Love your work!!”

#2 “Hi hi! Love your work! Can I request Young Snape x French reader? Sorry if I dont speak well, english is not my first language <3”

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello everyone again! :D I combined both requests because they are pretty similar so enjoy!

Posted: 9/10/21

Masterlist

---

~*~*~ = time skip

(Y/n) = first name

(L/n) = last name

~*~*~

~*~*~ = POV change

---

~*~*~*~*~ *~

There was a strange static in the air this morning, one Severus couldn't quite place. He brushed his long hair back behind his ear and listened in to the hushed whispers of passing classmates.

"...Beauxbaton, can you believe it?"

"Nice to not know someone for a change - "

Beauxbaton? Severus gathered they were talking about a new teacher perhaps? Although it wasn't that odd to get new professors in the middle of the school year. Just last year the Dark Arts professor was promptly replaced when he went mad after a spell backfired on him; In fact, every year there was a new one.

It was strange that the new teacher should be a transfer from another school such as Beauxbaton... Maybe they were fired and no one else wanted them, must be down on their luck. And if that is the case, how very fitting for Hogwarts, home of inadequacy.

Severus, still deep in his bitter thoughts, almost tripped over the shoe that had extended out in front of him. He caught himself and whirled around angrily. "Watch it!" he growled, straightening.

James Potter smirked. "Oh, Snivellus. Didn't see you there.” His Gryffindor friends snickered behind him, bolstering his ego. "I'd get along to class if I were you. Wouldn't want to be late on your first day back."

Severus grit his teeth and did everything he could to not growl his displeasure of being in so close proximity to the pinnacle of mediocrity that was Potter. It had been a week after winter holidays had ended but after another nearly fatal encounter with Black, he’d been forced to stay in the Hospital Wing un-zippering his mouth and a couple of fingers before being allowed back.

The memory of the experience made his knees weak, making keeping his riled demeanor that much harder. He was lucky he'd had the foresight to cover his nose before Black unleashed his hex. It wasn’t a quick run from the lake to the nurse, and he certainly wouldn't have made it with his nostrils zippered together as well.

"Mind your own business, Potter." Severus spat out his name like rotten apples, furrowing his brows in an attempt to seem more threatening however he could not help but notice the hallways getting emptier by the second. He knew better than to get caught alone with Potter.

He laughed and turned to catch up with his friends. Severus watched him go, only relaxing his shoulders after Potter had rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. The hall was empty.

He turned and continued down the corridor when his hearing perked at the scuff of loud footsteps. He whirled around, hand plunging into his robes, but it was too late.

"Levipeds!"

Severus' head snapped back as his feet whipped out from under him. He hung limp in the air, watching his wand roll away on the stone floor. His hair nearly touched the dirty ground.

James laughed. "Welcome back, Snivellus!"

He closed his eyes as his boiling blood rushed to his head. He was hanging upside down in the air, alone in the empty corridor. He couldn't scream for help, he'd just get yelled at for disturbing lessons, and he couldn't reach his wand - as long as his limbs might be, his wand might as well have rolled down into the dungeons. He'd have to hang there until classes were over or one of the portraits decided to help him out for once.

"Eh... Excuse moi?" A quiet voice wrapped in a thick French accent broke the silence.

His eyes flew open and stared straight into the face of a beautiful but completely unfamiliar student. She bent down low to meet his eyes. She must be the mystery person from Beauxbaton, the new student as it turned out.

This was worse, so much worse than being caught by anyone else in the school - except for a very select few. Severus looked around in search of anything that might make this all less embarrassing.

"You need help, no?" Her voice was more confident this time, laced with a hint of friendly amusement.

"Uhh..." He met her eyes and hoped this new student would excuse his red face to be due to all his blood rushing down.

She straightened and pointed behind him. "This is your wand? I'll give to you?" His wand was in his hand with one quick flick of her own.

His eyebrows automatically shot up at her use of nonverbal spells. "Thanks," he tried swallowing but ended up coughing. He covered his mouth and performed the counter-hex, dropping to the floor with a grunt.

She rushed forward, looping her arm through his and helping him up to his feet. She laughed and dusted the dirt off his back while he stood paralyzed.

"Better, no?" she smiled, facing him a foot from his stiff figure. "I'm new seventh-year transfer... And you?"

For a moment his mouth opened but no words flew out, and then all at once words poured out as fast as if under a curse. "I'm - oh - yes you're from Beauxbaton, right? Yeah - er - yes, seventh-year as well."

Her hands flew up and she waved them in front of herself with a laugh. "Slow please!" she laughed again. "One more time?"

Severus gave an awkward laugh that matched hers and nodded. "I'm also a seventh-year."

"Oh!" she held out a paper and pointed down to the class he was late for. "I am so lost! You help me now? Oui?"

She smiled up at him and his heart nearly leaped out of his mouth. He nodded quickly, "Yes - er - oui, I'll help you... Actually, that's my class too..."

"Oh!" Her smile widened, "I need partner for the class! You have one?"

For once Severus thanked his unlucky past self. His time in the hospital wing all week meant everyone would be already partnered up. "No, I don't..." his face flushed red again and he cleared his throat, looking away. "We could be partners?"

"Bon! Lead the way, partner," she motioned for him to lead, keeping a very close pace next to him as they walked. "I am lucky to find you, did not know anyone yet. You are only third person met!"

He gave her a small smile as they walked together, but he knew it wouldn't take long for her to find out his status at the school. Being a new student, he was sure she’d make all the friends she could ever want by the end of the day. Then she'd reconsider her luck after everyone tells her all about her lab partner, 'Snivellus'.

~*~*~

They made it to class late. The professor looked up and frowned, ready to tell them off when Severus' new ‘friend’ spoke up.

"Excuse us, Professor, I am new and got lost."

The professor sighed and waved his hand, giving her a pass. "And I see you're back Mr. Snape. Get to your seats, you'll both be working together - get moving."

The two back seats were empty and Severus was glad to be away from the front for once. His new partner set down her things, and as she bent to pick up her books Severus caught a glimpse of Sirius Black glaring at him from the front, a seat behind where Severus had been sitting the last term. Black had anticipated his return and was obviously annoyed with the change in seating.

"What may I call you, Mr. Snape?" The new student whispered, giving him her full attention despite the lesson continuing.

"S-Severus." He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He'd die of embarrassment if they started teasing him in front of her for daring to open his mouth. "And you?"

She smiled. "Severus Snape? That's a beautiful name." She looked back up to make sure their conversation was still private and turned back. She reached up and gripped his tie, pulling him towards her. She leaned and held a hand to his ear, moving her lips inches from his ear. "(Y/n) (L/n)."

Severus’ heart beat faster than it ever had before. The immense drumming in his ears almost made it impossible to hear her whispers. When she released him, he turned to look at her, feeling his face heat up either from proximity or from her warm breath flowing over his face. "(Y/n)... Good to know." He swallowed and realized he had not moved since she had pulled him towards her. He would have felt like an idiot if she wasn’t looking at him so playfully.

"You gonna kiss her, Snivellus?"

Severus pulled back quickly and clenched his jaw at Black.

The professor smacked Sirius' head with a roll of parchment. "Mr. Black, disturb my class again and I'll assign you an essay for every night this week." Severus smirked. "And you, Mr. Snape," the Professor smacked the board, creating a puff of chalk, "- will hand me your notes tomorrow before class - legible notes, might I add."

Severus nodded as the class snickered and turned away from (Y/n). The rest of the lesson went by agonizingly slow. Severus counted the seconds until he could run away to the library, away from taunting eyes. He hated himself for turning so red, but he hated Black even more for making him the fool.

~*~*~

You could tell the boy, 'Mr. Black', had embarrassed Severus greatly. He was hunched over his parchment, focused completely on the professor's words, and never once looking back up at you.

You read the words on the board but soon your eyes ventured down to look at the tall lanky boy currently trying to visibly shrink in his seat. The moment shared between you both still played on your mind. He had beautiful long lashes and deep dark eyes to match. It had been fun to see him so flustered over you, but the guilt of what you'd caused sat heavily on your chest. That boy had noted Severus had been in the perfect position to kiss her, which... did she kind of wish he had?... Just to see - for just a curious taste.

You didn't know what specifically was so alluring about Severus, but you could imagine yourself wrapped in his arms, pulling on his long hair, biting his lips, and hearing that deep voice of his purring for more. Something about him - or maybe everything about him - made you wonder how gentle those hands of his could be.

The bells rang in the distance, marking the end of the lesson. You packed your things and sat waiting for Severus to do the same. He was slow at first and then after a quick flick of his eyes up to you hurried along.

You stood at the same time and motioned for the door, scrambling to translate your thoughts into English. "Lunch now? We can sit together?"

People filed out of the class, which Severus watched closely before turning back to her and answering. "Look, this isn't the only time… I'm not someone to hang out with unless you like hexes and spells to be thrown in your direction."

You could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed, and his down-turned eyes filled with tears that wouldn't fall. Before you could bring yourself to respond, he sighed shakily, giving you pause.

"It's not your fault... I'll show you down and then I suggest you forget about being friends." He pulled open the door and held it open for you without meeting your eyes.

What could you say to him? You stepped out into the corridor, contemplating how to phrase what you were thinking when laughter pulled your focus.

"I see you've met our Snivellus." The stupid boy, Black, came forward talking to you but keeping his attention on Severus. He had long curly hair nearly as long as Severus' and was taller, with proud shoulders held in a loose demeanor that still made him seem important in some way. His eyes shifted to you, "Hope he didn't drip any snot on you while he tried for a kiss."

You scoffed, “You do not understand what you saw. Please leave us alone.”

“Love, maybe you’re not understanding me. For your own safety I insist YOU leave this sniffling slime alone.” Black took a step closer.

Severus pulled out his wand but held it low, at the ready in an instant. "I’m done with your games. Unlike you, you nitwitted tower troll, I have places to be." He finally glanced your way, "Excuse me," and made to leave.

Black blocked his way, laughing at the now pointed wand in Severus’ hand. "Go ahead, I’ll be glad if you finally get expelled for using wands in the corridors. Mine's not even on me."

You eyed the smirk on his face and the tiny shift of his hand towards his trousers pocket. Was that a lie then? Whatever the case, you had enough of this game too. "My friend, Severus, is showing me to lunch. We are going now." You stepped between Severus and Black, giving the taller boy an annoyed look.

"I’m telling you, be careful," Black chuckled. "He might try to kiss you again if you’re too nice."

You paused and stepped back, looking up at Severus, whose eyes were fixed on Black, staring daggers into him. You bit your lip and chuckled the same way Black had, finding a different kind of amusement than him in this situation. "I hope he will."

Severus' head snapped to you, his cheeks slowly going a light shade of pink all over.

Black made a disgusted sound and a show of his fake nausea. “Darling, I don’t think I understood you correctly. Check your dictionary and if that’s not the problem maybe your eyes.”

This boy was really getting on your nerves now. If you’d been back at Beauxbaton you’d’ve already hexed him into a soggy pile of starter yeast, baked him into the perfect Pain au Levain, and chucked him out the tallest tower window. “Move it,” you made sure your French accent coated the word heavily.

Severus’ hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you back. He kept his wand and eyes trained on Black but spoke to you. “Go down to lunch. I’ll stay here to have the chat Black so desperately wants to have with me.” He looked up again, “Let her leave.”

Black smiled, “That’s fine. Been meaning to ask how your winter holiday was after I last saw you.”

You turned to Severus, ready to protest when the door to the classroom opened, cutting Black off. You all stood very still and awkward, hoping to hide the atmospheric hostility that had been created.

The Professor locked the door with a flick of his wand and looked at everyone with concern. "Off to lunch, no need wandering the corridors. Now." He ushered everyone down the stairs, walking close behind in equal silence.

You reached the floor second to last, after Black and then Severus, and pulled on Severus' arm the second your Professor had turned towards the staff room. You kept your hand on him to make sure he didn’t decide to leave before you could talk to him. Before Black could step towards you to continue the ‘conversation’, other Gryffindor students pulled him towards a small crowd gathering across the floor. Whatever it was seemed to be of higher interest and he left with only single backwards glance.

You both watched him go dissolve into the rowdy group and suddenly the air around you shifted. Severus turned instantly, searching your eyes with an intensity you could almost feel. You blushed and slid your hand down his sleeve and lingered on his bare hand. Neither of you said a word but the electricity connecting your eyes and the comfortable silence that enveloped you both spoke volumes. "We could eat together, no?"

His eyes settled on your hand still on his until you let go. "Oui," he whispered with a smile pulling at his lips. “Lunch then.”

As you both walked on, he slowly crept closer with every step, making your shoulders brush against his arm. His pinky tickled the skin on your wrist, making you cough to hide a giggle as you entered the Great Hall. Your eyes flickered up at his and you smiled, seeing a gentle blush and an even gentler smile on his face.

~*~*~*~*~ *~

Masterlist

—-

General taglist:

@setsuna-meiou31

@severuslovebot

@bionic-otp

—–

629 notes · View notes

lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years

Note

Nia just needed a friend to do a hard mall trip. Trying out dresses. For a formal dance. And hey, maybe Lena and Kara are mad at each other but... She just needs Lena okay?

When Lena receives a call from an unknown number, she almost ignores it. But just enough people spread her phone number that she answers it on the off chance it might be someone who needs her.

“Lena Luthor, how can I help you?”

“Lena, please don’t hang up.”

The voice is familiar, but Lena can’t place it until the voice continues.

“It’s Nia. Nia Nal? And I know--” Lena almost hangs up right then-- not because it’s Nia, but because Nia treads dangerously close to a subject Lena is dead set on avoiding. Almost. “I know you have no reason to take my call, but… I need your help.”

Lena almost hangs up. She doesn’t.

“What do you need?”

---

The crisis, Lena learns, is that Nia has been given the assignment of her life covering the Golden Globes ceremony being hosted in downtown National City, but has nothing even remotely appropriate to wear. The mundanity of it all is so far from what Lena expects that it’s long moments before the words fully register.

“Uh, Lena…?”

“I’m here,” Lena says quickly, clearing her throat. She leans forward in her chair, rattling off an address. “Meet me there tomorrow at 11am.”

The next day, a few minutes after eleven, Nia walks up to Lena outside of Sylvie with hesitation all over her face. “Lena?”

Lena tucks her phone away and turns towards Nia with a professional but bright grin. “Nia, you made it.”

“Uhm, yeah actually… I kinda thought I’d gotten lost…”

Lena looks at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Lena, I can’t afford anything on this boulevard, are you crazy??”

Oh.

“You’re not paying,” Lena says simply.

Wide eyes blink at her in shock. “What? No! No, Lena, I can’t ask you to do that--”

“I’m offering.”

“Look, I was thinking we could just go to the mall--”

“The mall.”

Nia quails under Lena’s judgement, and Lena softens.

“Nia, you are about to be on the red carpet, covering an event that could catapult your career into the stratosphere. I think that warrants something a little more than what a department store can offer.”

“But…” Nia continues to protest, but uncertainty colors her features, and Lena knows she’s slipped under her guard. Carefully, Lena places a hand on Nia’s wrist.

“I won’t force you to accept what I’m offering,” she says gently. “But calling a Luthor for help means calling for a Luthor solution-- and nothing says Luthor more than shopping at the best boutique in town.”

Nia nods, but she ducks her chin with a swallow. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t want you to think that’s why I called, you know?” Nia expels a sigh, working a harried hand through her hair. “It’s just that Kara was supposed to come with me for moral support, but she’s had to cancel four times and the ceremony is in three days and if Andrea hears one more time that I don’t have a dress, she’s going to kill me…”

“Nia,” Lena says softly. Nia stops, and meets Lena’s gaze with a hesitant one of her own. “I would never think you were calling for a hand out. I’m offering.” Nia still looks uncertain, but Lena holds her gaze. “You asked for help… so let me help.”

Nia considers her words, studying Lena carefully. Finally, she wraps her arms around herself with a steadying sigh. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

Nia follows a few paces behind as Lena turns and approaches the door to the shop, lingering to let Lena be the one to press the buzzer to be allowed in. But as they near, the door opens for them, ready and waiting to admit them.

Luthors don’t use buzzers.

“Welcome to Sylvie.” A pair of well groomed attendants relieve them of their purses, exchanging their bags for a couple flutes of champagne offered by a third.

“Thank you,” Lena replies easily, well versed in the practice. Nia fumbles a step behind, her movements stiff and uncertain. Instead of moving directly into the belly of the store as she usually did, Lena lingers, allowing Nia the chance to take in the shop for the first time. The showroom looks much like any other, as could be glimpsed through the windows, styled with clean lines and immaculately dressed mannequins. The true Sylvie experience, however, happens further in, beyond the curtains that separate the dressing rooms from the rest of the store.

“If you’ll follow me, ladies, I’ll show you to your dressing room.”

Lena wonders what Nia expected as they approached one of the curtained off areas. Perhaps a cramped alcove like the hollywood thrift stores shown in coming-of-age films, where your elbows knocked the walls as you changed and you’d be lucky to find a stool to put your own clothes. Certainly it isn’t the plush, spacious room that awaits them, if Nia’s wide eyes are anything to go by.

Charnelle waits for them at the curtain. “Welcome, ladies,” she greets, parting the curtain so that Lena and Nia can slip inside. “Lena, lovely to see you again.”

“And you,” Lena returns.

“I’m Charnelle,” she introduces herself to Nia. “Wonderful to meet you. I’ll be assisting the two of you today.”

“Thankyousomuch,” Nia says in a rush, her shoulders tight as she shakes Charnelle’s offered hand.

Charnelle allows the curtains to close behind them, isolating them in their own little pocket of divine luxury. Lena settles herself on the central chaise lounge, folding her legs elegantly before her. Nia perches on the edge beside her, her gaze flicking to the small boudoir in one corner and another curtain that shields the actual changing area. Inside there, Lena knows Nia will find a plush bench to sit on as she undresses, and gold hangers to hold her clothes while she tries on various gowns. It’s designed to be beyond comfortable, a place where one could spend hours-- and lots and lots of money.

“So, what do you have for us today, Lena? Another benefit gala to dazzle?”

“Actually,” Lena replies, “Miss Nal here is covering the Golden Globes this week for CatCo Worldwide.”

“How exciting!” Charnelle rounds on Nia. “And what are you looking for in your gown?”

Caught with a mouthful of champagne, Nia freezes, then swallows audibly. “Um…” she coughs out. “Something nice? I probably shouldn’t be outdressing the stars or anything, so nothing too crazy?” She shrugs. “I don’t know, exactly.”

“Charnelle,” Lena intercedes, “could you bring us some formal options in black, maroon, or blue? Floor length, of course.”

Charnelle nods, beaming. “Absolutely.” She gives Nia a wink. “She has your colors nailed, honey. What are your measurements?”

Nia stares at them both. “Uh. A six, usually?”

“They’ll need your measurements to ensure a proper fit,” Lena delivers gently. “Do you mind if Charnelle--?”

“I’m trans!” Nia blurts, her chinks coloring a solid ear-to-ear pink. “Sorry,” she adds quietly. “But-- yeah. Just so you know.”

Lena stares, surprised more by the outburst than its content, but Charnelle takes it in stride. “So am I, baby girl,” she responds smoothly. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have a dress that fits.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nia finally, finally relaxes. She offers a shaky grin. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Charnelle gives Nia’s wrist a squeeze on her way to the boudoir to pull a tape measure from the top drawer. While she’s busy, Lena catches Nia’s eye and lifts her glass in a silent cheers of support. Nia rewards her with a small smile, before Charnelle returns and makes quick work of measuring Nia’s bust, waist and hips.

“All right!” Charnelle chirps, wrapping up her tape. “I’ll be right back with some options. You two stay here and get comfortable, all right? I’ll be right back.”

She disappears, and Nia all but collapses onto the chaise next to Lena. “I can’t believe I did that,” she groans.

Lena pats her on the knee. “You’re all right. Sylvie only gets my business because they know the value of discretion.”

“Yeah.” Nia lifts her head with a hum, surveying the dressing room once more. “This is nice. Thank you for talking me into it.”

Lena smirks. “Just wait.”

As if on cue, the curtains part to admit not Charnelle, but the woman who’d offered them their drinks. This time, her tray holds an array of small finger sandwiches. “Refreshments?”

“Oh, wow!” Nia exclaims, quickly helping herself to three. “Okay, yeah. I could get used to this.”

Lena grins, snaring a cucumber sandwich for herself. “Thank you. And another round, if you could,” she adds, seeing Nia’s empty glass.

The woman nods. “Of course.”

When she has disappeared again, the dressing room fills with quiet, and Lena realizes that she doesn’t have a clue what to say. She’s gone shopping with her mother, and with Andrea, and in both cases the conversation flowed easily, for better or for worse. But she’s never been shopping with a girl several years her junior, and never one in the middle of Lena’s biggest heartbreak.

“It happened the last time I went shopping for a dress too,” Nia says, breaking the silence. “The anxiety about… you know. I guess something about formal wear brings out the worst of it.”

Unsure of how to respond, Lena looks at her. “When was the last time?”

Nia sighs. “Prom. I’d transitioned by then, and most people were used to me, but I didn’t have a date, and part of me just internalized it as a fixture of me not being girly enough, and not, you know, the fact I didn’t know how to talk to boys, let alone date them. I didn’t even know if it was worth it to go at all, and I just-- started crying, right there in the dress shop.”

“What happened then?” Lena asks gently.

Nia smiles fondly. “My mom. She just hugged me, and told me how proud she was to have such a beautiful, confident daughter. It was sort of embarrassing at the time, but… it was something I needed to hear, you know?”

She pauses then as the server returns with their champagne. Afte the woman dips out again, Lena nudges her. “And did you ever find a dress?”

Nia snorts, nodding. “Yeah. Like, two minutes after I calmed down I found my dream dress. And my friends and I had a blast at prom, so I’m glad I went after all.”

“Good,” Lena murmurs, sipping her drink. “Well, I can’t promise anything about a dream dress, but I’ll call it a win if we get out of here without any tears.”

“Cheers to that,” Nia concurs, lifting her own glass for a deep sip.

In that moment, Charnelle returns, wheeling a short cart of long dresses along with her.

“All right, ladies-- who’s ready to see some gowns?”

---

Nia settles on a bias-cut gown of sky blue, accented with beaded embroidery at the bust and straps. It may not have qualified for dream status, but it’s perfect for the Globes, and Lena can tell Nia is excited by the time they step back out onto the street, garment bag draped over her arm.

“Thank you, again,” Nia offers, hiking her purse higher on her shoulder. “You really didn’t have to do all this, especially with how weird things are right now. I know it probably wasn’t easy to say yes when I called last night.”

Lena blinks. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her to say no. “Nia?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you call me?” It’s her turn now to shift uncomfortably on her feet. “I’m always happy to help, but… as you say, things are weird. Why me?”

“Honestly?” Nia asks. Lena nods. “You remind me of my mom. I can’t begin to tell you how or why, but you do. And the thing is… my mom was probably the kindest person I’ve ever known. So-- if you reminded me of her, I figured you were a pretty safe bet. And the worst you could do was hang up on me, so…”

Right.

Lena nods, her throat locking painfully around a sudden lump in her throat. Forcing a smile, she clears her throat. “Okay. Well… I’m glad I was able to help. Are you okay to get home?”

Nia nods easily. “Yeah, I’ll just catch the bus. Thank you again. This was really nice, and it was really good to see you.”

Lena nods, but before she can turn away, Nia catches her by the wrist.

“I mean it, Lena. I owe you one. If you ever need anything…”

Lena turns her wrist, allowing her hand to settle into Nia’s palm. Giving it a squeeze, Lena offers her a smile.

“I know who to call.”

// prompts are closed

#lena and nia #brotp #trying on dresses #nia and lena go shopping #prompt filled #quarantine prompt party 2.0 #GUESS WHO'S WRITING #AND FINALLY CATCHING UP ON THE PROMPTS SITTING IN HER INBOX #*jabs thumbs at self* this guy!!#this was fun #thanks nonnie

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finnyboywolfhard · 3 years

Text

Shut Him Up

Richie Tozier x Reader

Aged up 5 years after fight with IT so they are 18 :)

summary: The Losers Club has a movie night and Richie doesn’t know how to shut up.

warnings: cursing, fluff

word count: 2.1k

Popcorn popped loudly in the vibrating microwave, Y/N maneuvered around the kitchen gathering the various snacks and drinks that the Loser’s requested. She grabbed a large bowl for the popcorn as a knock pounded against the door.

“Hold on!” Y/N dropped the hot bag and rushed over to the door, pulling it open with a huff, delighted to see Beverly Marsh behind the door. “Oh thank god it’s you.” Y/N said wrapping her arms around Bev.

“You sure are happy to see me.”

“Because I know you’ll actually help me get everything set up and not just goof off. If Richie was the first one here one more time I was gonna go crazy.” Y/N explained as she walked to the kitchen, handing Bev a few bags of chips and a tray holding drinks. Y/N poured the popcorn in a bowl and grabbed the packages of candy from beside her and ushered for Bev to follow her through the corridor to her Living Room. They dropped the snacks onto the table. Y/N looked down to see she was still in her “nicer” clothes.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get changed real quick, open the door if any of them come.”

“I need you to know I’m gonna snoop.” Bev yelled out as Y/N began bounding up the stairs.

“You always do!” Y/N yelled back. Once inside her room, she rummaged through her drawers to find an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. She put on a pair of socks, grabbed a few blankets from her room and came back down to a room full of teenage boys. She looked around at how the chairs and couches filled up, to see that she was once again stranded on the loveseat with the chatterbox himself Richie Tozier.

“Hey Bev! I think you might have left something in my room last week, can you come with me for a sec?” Y/N yelled, just peering around the corner. All eyes looked at her.

“What did she forget?” Ben asked as Bev passed by him.

“A girl thing, there’s a reason I didn’t say what.”

“Oh so a Brassiere!” Richie said in the annoying British voice before switching back to his own. “You could have just said Y/N/N, we all know you both have tits.”

Y/N simply flipped him off and grabbed Bev’s hand to go upstairs. The two got inside Y/N’s room and Y/N just crossed her arms and looked at her.

“What? Why are you mad?”

“How the hell did I end up next to Richie AGAIN?”

“We practically have assigned seats at this point…” Bev said trying to play it off.

“Bullshit. Last week you sat in the La-Z-Boy with Bill and this week you’re on the big couch with Ben, Mike and Stan. What is up?” Y/N stared at Bev until she finally broke.

“Okay, he has a crush on you and is too scared to tell you so he keeps asking to sit next to you and showing up first.” Y/N’s jaw hung slack for a few moments before she snapped it shut and ran her hands through her hair. She collapsed backwards onto her bed.

“Beeeevvvvvv. This can’t be happening to me.”

“Oh please, like you don’t feel the same way.” Bev said grabbing Y/N’s hands and pulling her to sit up.

“What are you—“ Y/N looks at Bev who just cocks her head as if to ask ‘are you serious?’. “Fine, maybe I do. But he NEVER shuts up during movies. It ruins the experience.”

“Just ask him to stop, he’d do anything you ask, I’m sure of it.” Bev said. “Now, we have to get down there or else they’ll know this was definitely a lie.”

The two giggle as they leave the room and go back down the stairs. Y/N hip bumps Bev as Bev goes to her seat on the couch and Y/N puts in the movie.

“Kay Stanley, what did you bring us on this fine evening?” Y/N said as she glanced down at the CD.

“Forrest Gump. It was released in theaters a few months ago, the woman at Blockbuster said that it is a must see. It has Tom Hanks.”

“Oh that’s the dude on the poster in the Arcade!” Richie piped in.

“Yeah it is Richie! Doesn’t it have umm…the woman who played Princess Buttercup…umm Ro—“

“Robin Wright!” Stanley finished her thought. “Yeah it is, so you’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah my parents saw it, they loved it. I guess we’re in for a treat.” Y/N flashed her smile to the Loser’s as she tiptoed her way to beside Richie. She couldn’t help but notice that there was only one blanket on the seat.

“Hey guys? I thought I brought down a blanket for each of us?” Y/N looked around the room, the sound of previews playing. Her eyes finally landed on Bev, who had a curious smirk across her face.

“Oh…huh…when I was distributing them there was only seven…I guess you didn’t.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab another.” Before she could leave, Richie grabbed a hold of her hand.

“Don’t worry about that, just take this one. I don’t get cold.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. We all know that’s true.” Y/N said sarcastically, dropping onto the seat. The movie had only been playing for about 15 minutes and Y/N swore that Richie was leaning over and whispering something for 14 minutes of it.

“Psst…Y/N/N…” Richie leaned over to whisper once more.

“What?!” Y/N whispered back with force.

“I actually am cold, can we share?” She looked over, he was giving her puppy dog eyes and her hard exterior was being broken with each second she held eye contact.

“Fine.” She untucked the blanked from under her and threw it across Richie’s Lap. She had to scoot closer in order for the blanket to comfortably cover them both.

“Oooh, awfully close there sweetheart. It’s almost like you like me or some shit.” Richie teased. Y/N just rolled her eyes and kept her focus onto the movie. The blanket and close proximity kept Richie quiet for a bit, but not too long.

“Y/N/N.”

“Richie, please, can you just shut the fuck up?” Y/N/N plead to him in a whisper. She looked toward him, unaware of how close they were, as their noses nearly grazed. Richie took in a breath.

“Make me.” He said, softening his frame. Y/N didn’t know what took over her. Maybe it was the fact that she wanted to actually watch the movie. Maybe it was the fact that she’s had a crush on Richie for the past two years. Maybe she’s using it as ammunition against his crush. She didn’t know for certain, but she leaned forward and kissed Richie. At first gently--longingly. But then she pulled his head closer to her for a more passionate kiss for a few seconds and then she pulled back. She sat back firmly against the couch. Richie sat dazed for a second, glancing between Y/N and his own lap before sitting back just as Y/N did.

The credits began to roll when Mike leaned over and flicked on the lamp in the room. Everyone did the usual stretching and readjusting to light. Stan and Eddie started to small talk about the movie but their attention was piqued by Bev.

“Y/N, did you break Richie?” Bev asked, looking towards the boy who was sitting back against the loveseat, with love struck eyes and a confused look across his face. Every so often he would just look over towards Y/N and then immediately just back to his lap. Y/N glanced over for the first time since and giggled to herself a little bit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said just for the ruse.

“Look at him! He’s like…glazed over.” Eddie said flailing at the boy sitting there.

“Yeah, and I haven’t heard him in like 45 minutes, that’s not normal.” Stanley agreed. Suddenly, Richie snaps out of his daze and cockily turns to Y/N.

“Come on, Y/N/N. Show them what you did to me.” Richie smirked in the cockiest way he ever has. As much as she hated it, she kinda loved it too.

“Fine, I will.” Y/N declared in the same tone, making glaring eye contact as she pulled Richie in for a kiss. It lasted for a few moments before they pulled apart. They looked at each other for a few moments.

“What just happened?” Mike said blankly bursting the bubble the two were in.

“That was so…” Eddie pauses to gag. “So fucking nasty.”

“Wow thank you Eds for those touching words.” Y/N sarcastically said.

“Are you gonna explain or are we just gonna sit here?” Bev asked.

“He wouldn’t shut the fuck up during the movie so I asked him to, and he said ‘make me’, so I kissed him. It worked.” She said, maintaining eye contact with Bev, who then started to giggle. Richie’s eyes moved between the two girls, piecing things together.

“Fuck you Bev. You fucking told her.” Richie said standing up angrily, gathering his stuff up, clearly about to storm out.

“Richie I—“Bev started to answer.

“I don’t want to hear it. You both embarrassed me, I…I gotta go.” Richie tried to get past Bill and Mike who had now formed a barrier in front of the door.

“R-R-R-Richie, just listen to th-th-them.” Bill said.

“Why should I?” Richie said. Y/N nervously stood from the love seat and turned to face the doorway.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

“You’re fucking in love with me?” Richie asked shocked.

“Let’s go upstairs, shall we?” Y/N laced her hands through Richie’s and pulls him up the stairs. She slinks through her door and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her for Richie. He sits down, and starts wringing his hands. The silence is deafening. “Hey.” She said as she leans to bump into him.

“Y/N/N…” he said dishearteningly. As she looked at him, her gut told her to just say ‘Fuck it’.

“Richie I have had a crush on you since that day two years ago when you found me crying in the clubhouse. You just sat and listened to me, and you made me feel so…safe. It was a side of you I had never seen before. And I liked it. And then suddenly I started liking everything. Except for when you talk through movies, but everything else.” She giggled, and looked at him. She loved the way his curls framed his face and the way his brown eyes still sparkled unlike any other. She loved the way sometimes his mouth looked too big for his face. She loved the way he would overcompensate with his jokes. She loved the way he would tease and treat all of the Losers the same way, and that he cared about spending time with each and every single one of them. He was so loyal, and funny, and handsome, and he was just so utterly Richie.

“You were even pretty when you were crying.” Richie joked back. “I’ve liked you since after the fight with IT, when you asked me if I was okay. No one ever asks me that. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on to this whole fucking crush thing sooner.”

“I’m surprised you were such a pussy and didn’t make the first move.” Y/N responded back.

“Ouch, Y/N, getting me right where it hurts.” Richie pretending to stab himself through the heart and fell back onto the bed. He pulled a dead face, only for a second before he opened one eye and turned to her to see her reaction. Through breathy laughs, she leaned down to hover over the boy. His hand found a base at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. It started off sweet and soft but as they realized the position they were in, Y/N flipped her leg over his waist in order to straddle him. The kiss began to pick up speed and passion. The two started to really get into it, only to be cut off by the Losers slamming the door open.

“Oh gross! You guys! We were right down stairs!” Eddie shrieked. Y/N climbed off of Richie.

“As if I would fuck him the very first night we’re dating.”

“We’re dAting?” Richie’s voice cracked with excitement. Y/N turned to him, gave him a peck and a smiley nod yes. “Oh Fuck yeah!”

“Does this mean we’re gonna find y’all making out during movie nights now?”

“God no!”-- “Hell yeah!” Richie and Y/N responded in unison, there were definitely a few things they still needed to work out, but they were happier than ever before.

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x you #it x reader #finn wolfhard x reader

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