#and maybe some parade signs

[redbeardace]

so many things to do

have to do them all

can't do them all

time to collapse into pit of indecision and give up

#the equality act still hasn't passed #and aces and aros and more still aren't in the equality act anyway #and we're almost certainly not covered by your local laws either #and there are still only two pride flag emojis #and unicode won't be adding more #so let's take over unicode and make them add more #or get member organizations to lean on them about it #or something i don't know #and there's pride designs and stuff to make #and maybe some parade signs #and the fascists are still around #how the fuck are the fascists still around #and I feel like I should take my ginormous trans flag #and wave it atop a freeway overpass at rush hour #even though I'm not trans #as a big middle finger to the fascists #but i live in seattle so what's the point #so i don't know what do i do what do i do #is any of it even worth trying

[wttcsms]

these eyes were made for lookin’ at you (only you) ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 5.6k synopsis simon riley didn’t ask to be a hero, but he finds himself wanting to be yours. content contains hints to human traff/icking (not explicit), breeding kink, belly bulge, size difference, pet names/terms of endearment (pretty girl, baby, love, darling, sweetheart), soft!ghost, obsessive!ghost, domesticity, mutual pining, praise kink, probably ooc!ghost but the man is absolutely whipped for you, clothed sex (his uniform is on), minor depictions of violence

He doesn’t quite consider himself a hero, you know.

He’s got a foul mouth, a sense of humor that borders between too dry or too dark, and so much blood on his hands that he’s surprised to see they’re not red when he pulls off his gloves and runs them under scalding hot water.

There will be no parades in his honor. No little boys running up to him on the streets, proclaiming that they want to be just like him. No statues to be sculpted to remember him by whenever he meets his inevitable end, six feet under. He probably won’t even be a memory after death.

And he’s come to terms with all of this, of course. It’s not like he cares — he didn’t sign up to do this shit for the glory or because he wanted to be considered a hero. He did it because someone out there had to be the person willing to do anything for the betterment of everyone.

Perhaps that makes him heroic in some sense; again, he doesn’t particularly care.

Until you.

Until one mission sends you into his direct orbit, knocking everything he’s ever known out of its place. It’s disorienting, confusing—

—exhilarating.

He doesn’t get scared anymore, but there’s something inherently frightening about wanting to share parts of yourself — of your very being, of your soul — to someone. He’s not quite able to label any of the emotions he feels for you the first time he sees you, but he feels enough to know that if he wants to save himself, he should put as much distance between the two of you as he possibly can.

(It turns out that this lieutenant doesn’t have as great of a sense of self-preservation as he proclaims.)

You cling to his arm, ignoring the way your palm digs and presses into the hard armor and tactical gear he sports. You think he might shake you off or forcefully pull you off of him, but he does neither. The soldier freezes, just for a second, and then he turns to face you.

If this is what the Grim Reaper looks like, perhaps death isn’t such an unfavorable ending. You can’t make out any physical features of your savior’s face, save for the pair of dark eyes staring right at you.

The skull mask does its job of securing his identity, but he should consider wearing goggles, you think. You’re not certain, but you think his eyes must be his most incriminating feature. You think if he gave you a proper minute to look at him, the image of his eyes would be ingrained in your memory. You’d be able to recognize him by them alone.

“Do you understand me?”

The gruff voice must be coming from him, if the subtle movements underneath his mask are any indication. He’s staring straight ahead now, watching as the rest of his team begins to usher the other girls who were stolen alongside you into large trucks. Maybe they’re tanks. You’re not quite sure.

“You must not then, yeah?” When he speaks, every word seems to be just the slightest bit rough around the edges. His accent is oddly nice; from the way he delivers his comments, though, you’re left wondering if he is, too.

He must be — nice, that is. A nice man would let you continue to grip his arm for support, even though you’re capable of standing on your own. A nice man would save you from the hell you’ve been subjected to for… Months? Has it been months? Shorter, maybe? Or longer? Time passes differently when all you want to do is die.

“I understand,” you finally answer him. You think your words must come out a little rough, too. The air in this area seems hard to breathe in, and you’re not sure when was the last time you even drank anything. You say it so quietly, you’re afraid that you’ll have to force yourself to speak up, but he nods.

“You’ll be safe now.”

Looking back, those might have just been words meant to comfort you, but you trust this masked man. You don’t know him (not yet), but the way he says it sounds like he means it.

(He means it.)

He goes by Ghost.

He doesn’t tell you why, and you don’t unnecessarily pry yourself into his business.

He doesn’t even tell you the name himself; you hear it from the mouths of the other officers, the other men who helped in rescuing you and the others.

The man who took you — the one in charge of shipping and selling the girls — won’t be giving you any more problems, now. He won’t hurt you again, isn’t even capable of touching you ever again. This is what Ghost reassures you with, and you nod, believing him.

After all, you witnessed him slice the asshole’s neck. You watched the blood spill out of his body. You were being ushered away at the time, but you still found the strength to turn around to watch him die.

You still haven’t found yourself able to detach yourself from him, and he hasn’t found the strength to shake you off just yet. Your fingers look dainty compared to the bulk of his arm, and the uniform he’s wearing only serves to add to his overall mass. You should want to put some distance between you and him; you know what men are like. You know it doesn’t take much for them to snap and change their demeanors in an instant. With the strength you’ve already witnessed and the sheer size of him, you know fighting him off wouldn’t even be realistic. But you still find yourself refusing to leave him alone, as if the evil he just destroyed will come back to life and hunt you down the very moment your savior leaves you.

It’s why you’re in a separate vehicle from the rest of the rescued girls. It’s just the two of you in the back, and the only noise you can hear is the loud huffs from the engine and the sound of tires speeding on rough terrain.

“When we return, there will be people who will come collect you and the others. They’ll clean you up and help you get back on your feet. You’ll be able to start a new life.”

A new life?

The thought excites you.

You don’t know what awaits you outside. When you were a little girl, you were still allowed to bask in the outdoors. The warmth of the sun, the feel of a soft breeze brushing against your skin — sometimes, when you were chained and in your cell, cowering in the dark, you wished that you hadn’t taken advantage of those little luxuries.

“In this life… I will feel the sun?” He hears the innocence in your voice, your question filled with longing and maybe even excitement. It was just past dusk when they rescued you; it’s now nighttime, and he feels himself wishing he had the power to bring the sun down from the sky and present it to you.

“In this life, you’ll be able to do anything you want.”

He’ll personally see to it if he has to.

You had fallen asleep by the time you reached your destination. With one mission successfully completed, Ghost finds himself with another almost immediately after, and with the peaceful expression on your face and the fact that this facility is one of the most secure buildings in the world, he leaves you—

—only to return back to the facility in a little over two weeks.

It’s not as if there’s someone waiting for him in the empty residence he calls home. Besides, it’s only natural — human, even — for him to be curious as to how you’re doing. While he trusts that you’re safe, he finds himself, in between lulls on missions, wondering how you’re adjusting.

(And in the rare moments where he finds himself fighting off exhaustion — the only telltale sign that he’s still flesh and blood and not the phantom his enemies think he is — he finds himself wondering if you’re thinking about him too.)

What did you see when you stared at him that day? He had killed a man — killed many men, actually — without mercy, without hesitation. He’s done it so many times throughout his life that wielding a weapon has become second nature to him.

Sometimes he even feels like he’s the weapon.

And again, he doesn’t care about whether or not he’s deemed a good person or a hero, but he doesn’t want to be a nightmare to you. He can still feel the ghost of your touch lingering on his left arm, the arm that you had clutched the day he rescued you. If not for the employees confirming your presence and guiding him to your room, he would be almost convinced that you’re a dream he thought up himself.

“Poor girl,” the woman leading way is telling him. “She’s been having the worst time out of all the others. I’m not surprised, hearing what they must have had to endure all that time, but the sweetheart can’t even sleep without us sedating her.”

“What?”

The low timbre of his voice makes the word sound more like a growl.

Seemingly shocked at his reaction, the woman almost pauses in her steps before continuing. “Yes, she’s been having nightmares. Thrashing wildly in her sleep, screaming the first few nights, even.” And then, almost as if she’s trying to make him feel better, she adds, “But she’s much better now. Save for a few sobs every now and then.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. If it had been someone physically tormenting you, he would have no issue in getting rid of the source of your pain. Demons who only appear in nightmares, though — that’s something not even he can fight off for you.

When they make it to your door, the woman knocks gently, calling out your name softly, almost as if she does anything too harshly, you’ll break down.

“I brought someone here who wants to see you, hon. I’m going to come in now, okay?”

The woman eyes him almost warily as if she’s just now taking him in. He didn’t bother changing out of his usual uniform, telling the helicopter pilot that picked him up after his most recent mission to take him directly here instead. In his defense, he hadn’t even anticipated you still being here.

But you are.

He’s well aware that he probably doesn’t look the nicest, his mask serving its purpose and obscuring his whole entire face, making him entirely unreadable. If you’re as skittish as the woman claims you are, perhaps it’ll be for the best if he leaves now.

But it’s too late. She’s opening the door and never one to hesitate, he’s stepping in. The woman doesn’t follow; instead, she shuts the door, most likely ready to call for backup if anything were to happen to you.

You look at him, and then a second later, recognition gleams in your eyes.

Now that it’s not as dark, he’s able to take in every single feature of your face, from the color of your eyes down to the slope of your nose and the shape of your pretty lips. He commits your visage to memory.

“It’s you,” you breathe out, sitting up straighter on your bed. “The man who saved me.”

And if the near reverent way you greet him isn’t enough to have him reeling, the next words you say have his heart freefalling:

“You’re my hero.”

You speak to him so sweetly, in a tone so soft that the words you say wrap around him like a warm blanket. No one has ever said that to him. No one has ever spoken to him the way you do.

He swallows hard, and for the first time in his life, he’s unsure of what to do.

“Have you been alright?” He asks, and your expression falls almost immediately.

You answer him after a few seconds of silence.

“Yes.”

You little liar.

“I’m very comfortable here, but I’ve seen many of the others getting ready to travel elsewhere. The people here are kind, and they tell me they have many houses I can choose from. They’ll help me find work and…” Your voice trails off, and he watches the way your hands curl around the bedsheets. “I’ll be normal. Find a husband, make a family, forget all about this.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.”

You’ll learn soon enough that he doesn’t like lying.

He moves quicker than someone his size should be able to; stealthy, too. You don’t catch his movements, but you blink, and suddenly he’s right in front of you, crouched down so he’s able to look you in the eyes.

You were right. You are able to recognize him by his eyes alone.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know.” When he speaks, you can’t help but hang on to every word. You find yourself nodding. “You’ll answer me honestly then?”

You nod again, this time a bit quicker.

“Good girl.” You hear the approval in his deep tone of voice, and you almost wish you hadn’t. You didn’t know what it’s like to be fed such praise, and you’re stuck starving for it now. “How have you been?”

“Alright. I’m happy to be here, but I—” Your voice cracks, and so does something inside of him. You look down, suddenly more interested in your sock-covered feet rather than his eyes. “Everyone else is able to move on so quickly, or they have someone waiting for them. I have no one. No one is looking for me. No one is expecting me.”

The realization of your reality finally settles in for you with your confession. You were born into that fate; the other girls who used to occupy the cells next to you were stolen. By all means, you were assigned to die there. There isn’t a future for you because you’re certain the universe did not anticipate you ending up like this.

No one is expecting me.

He understands what that’s like. It’s the reason why he’s here, because for once in what feels like forever, he finally has someone he’d like to see after a mission.

“You could find someone out there.”

“What if I leave here, and no one wants me?” The words come out a bit wobbly, and you look at him with glossy eyes and wet lashes.

You’re even prettier than he remembers.

He swallows hard, trying to find the right words to say.

(Soap claims he has a bad habit of saying the most awful things at the worst time possible.)

“That won’t happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Because after meeting you for the first time, he — the man with no regard to his own personal well-being and the utmost self-control — finds himself longing to be in your presence. He had to see you again; can’t you already see how you’re taking root inside his very being?

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Will you come back then?” When you look at him like that, all wide-eyed with your pretty lips forming a subtle pout, he thinks he might do something stupid, like—

“Whenever you want me to.”

—make a promise he might not be able to keep.

He gives you a burner phone. It’s supposedly untraceable (he doesn’t let you know about the tiny personal tracker he attaches to it; don’t worry, he’s the only one able to access your locational information), and while he doesn’t give you any explicit instructions, the only number programmed into the contacts list is his.

(That’s fine with you. It’s not as if you have anyone else to talk to.)

You know that he must be a busy person. You wonder if he’s considered a savior to many other people like you. Then innocent thoughts like that spiral into something jealous. Does he normally visit the people he saves? Are there other girls who have been gifted a phone like this?

He doesn’t message you, and you’re too scared of bothering him to reach out.

Every night since he sent you this phone, you’ve laid in bed, thumbs hovering over the keypad, debating what to say if you ever get the courage to text him. Every night, you never hit send on a single draft, and you fall into an uneasy slumber usually after your tenth attempt at a text message.

Sleeping is the worst.

Your nightmares can’t reach you when you’re in the safety of the waking world, but the moment your eyes are closed, it’s like every dark memory you’ve suppressed comes out of the shadows and begins its long-awaited torment.

The feeling of the cuffs on your ankles digging into your flesh feels too raw and real to be a mere memory. The men walking by your cell, sometimes staring at you uncomfortably long, taunting you and calling you cruel names. They’re always so explicit about what they have planned for you, but your seller will never give you up. Not until he finds someone willing to pay the high price he has hanging over your head.

You’re an untouched, undamaged good is what he reminds you. You’ll make him so much money.

But then you feel the cold, clammy grip of his on your arm and his breath on your neck, and you scream and scream and scream.

There must be cameras in the room you’re in because after the first week of nightmares, the kind workers here stop rushing to your room. If you don’t quiet in a few minutes, a male nurse will come in with a syringe and a pitying look before injecting a sedative into your veins. Artificial sleep is the only uninterrupted rest you get these days.

You wake up with your throat raw from your yells, and your skin sweaty. It takes several minutes for your heartbeat to go back to its regular pace, yet the images of your most recent nightmare are still flashing in your mind. You grab the cell phone you keep tucked under your pillow. It must be because of your panicked state of mind, but you find yourself clicking his contact.

The dial tone grounds you into reality, but before you can truly come to your senses and hang up, he answers the call.

“Hello?” Hearing his voice calms you down even more so despite the slight crackle that comes with hearing him through the speakers of the phone.

“Ghost?” You’re whispering, even though you’re certain that the walls are thick enough for you to speak normally without bothering anyone. Besides, anyone with ears probably already suffered through your fit.

“[Name].”

You don’t remember telling him your name, but it makes sense for him to know it. After all, he’s the one who visited you several days ago.

The thought that he would have to make an effort to seek you out and learn more about you is far more comforting than you think it should be.

“S-sorry for bothering you. It’s probably late—”

“Are you alright?”

“Am I… Alright?”

“Yes.” After contemplating a bit, he adds, “And don’t try to lie to me, either.”

“Are you busy?”

He’s in a safe house ten minutes away from the facility; say the word, and he can get there in three.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine.”

“No, I’m not busy. Now your turn: how are you feeling?”

“Scared.” It’s easier to admit things when you’re unable to see him. Staring at him makes you nervous because you think he’ll be able to read everything on your own face. Vulnerability is never easy.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Maybe it’s the exhaustion messing with your mind, but you think his voice might have just softened, just the slightest.

“Yeah.”

He’s silent, but you think you hear some slight movement on his end.

“Ghost?”

“Yes?”

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m going to visit you. Do you not want me to?”

You’re scared to answer, too frightened that your tired state will cause you to let the raw truth slip out.

You think you’re always going to want him.

He can only visit you when he’s in between missions.

(Unfortunately for you, breaks for him are a rarity.)

He comes back to you, sometimes a little bruised, sometimes a bit more broken than when he had left, but he always keeps his promise.

Whenever you want him to be with you, he’s there.

The nightmares gradually get better with time, but you always sleep the best when he’s with you. At first, he would just sit in a corner of your room, almost impossible to view unless you focus hard on him (if you didn’t know he was there, you probably never would have noticed him at all). He eventually began to sit closer to you, somewhere near the edge of your bed. On the rougher nights, you would find yourself reaching out for his hand.

When his presence alone can’t keep the nightmares at bay, and you wake up from another bad dream, he doesn’t force you to tell him what you see. Instead, he talks. Despite his rough voice, the sound of him telling you about the mundane aspects of his day is the most comforting thing in the world. It’s like your own personal lullaby.

He tells you about his life before this. You tell him about yours, too. His gloved hand brushes against your cheek as he tucks back a strand of your hair. You lay your own hand atop his, feeling the warmth of him even through the thick leather. You tell him about your nightmares, all the darker details that make you loathe your very being. He tells you his name.

You whisper it back to him.

Simon. Simon Riley.

You say it several times, sometimes slowly. Testing out how the syllables rest on the tip of your tongue.

He likes his name best when you’re the one saying it.

The facility starts to fill up with other saved victims from missions more recent than yours. You’re free to stay here as long as you like, but one day, Simon presses a key into the palm of your hands. You don’t need him to say anything; the imploring look in his eyes, your favorite feature in the whole world, ask the question for him.

Now the two of you share a bed. His toothbrush stands right next to yours, and the former empty residence that Simon used to spend his off-time avoiding is a home. He cares about what will happen to him because every time he leaves for a mission, you send him off with a soft see you soon!.

He knows that keeping his heart cold would ensure that he would go to great lengths to see to the success of his missions, but running towards death is such a silly thing. Why would he be okay with chasing after that when he knows he can return to his safehouse hidden in the woods and find you in the kitchen humming? If anything, he completes his missions even faster now. You told him that you’ll be expecting to see him soon, and he’s not one to disappoint you.

Simon Riley knows he’s got it bad. He can’t sleep well unless his sheets smell like you. He asks if he can bathe you just to run soap over the smooth skin of your body because he’s entirely obsessed with you, every scar and beauty mark. He knows it’s dangerous, but he keeps a Polaroid of you tucked safely away in one of his inner pockets in his uniform.

One morning, nearly a year since he rescued you, you tell him you love him.

He lets you take his mask off.

You’re smiling at him, eyes shining as you take in every minute detail. You can’t believe this is a face he would want to hide from the world. Selfishly, you’re a bit pleased with knowing you’re one of the few to see him like this, completely bare. To make the moment even better, he says it back.

He loves you.

“I know.” You tell him; it’s obvious. His mask is resting in your hands, after all.

Simon rushes home after every mission to see you, his first love, his only love. He loves coming back to you when you’re barefoot in the kitchen or washing your face in the bathroom, but he loves it the most when you guide him to your shared bedroom, the prolonged distance between the two of you making your longing for him all the more intense.

He loves you all the time, especially when you’re lying beneath him completely bare, with your hands (so much smaller compared to his own) eagerly touching every inch of him you can reach. He just got back; his uniform is partially off, all the weapons left hanging by the doorstep. He’s got nothing but the protective armor and the thick fabric on him, and with the way your body is practically calling for him, he doesn’t think you’ll give him enough time to strip himself of his clothes.

“Simon — missed you so much,” is what you whine out. He knows. You don’t have to whimper it out to him because your actions (and body’s reactions) leave nothing to assumption. You’re struggling to lift yourself up to pepper kisses all over his unmasked face, dainty hands tugging at his sleeves. Your cheeks are flushed, and you attempt to rut against him, trying to get some type of friction to satiate yourself.

You’re already so wet for him that he can feel it through his uniform.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you.” That’s your Simon. Always reassuring, always there when you need him. And right now, you need him so desperately that you’re soaking the bedsheets beneath you.

True to his word, you feel a gloved hand teasing your slick folds, smearing your arousal everywhere.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, admiring your glistening folds for just a second with a sort of sick fascination. He can spend hours with his head in between your thighs and your hands clutching at his hair. He won’t be leaving you so soon, though. He’ll have all the time he wants to bring you to the height of pleasure with just his tongue; tonight, he wants to give you exactly what you need.

The feeling of two of his thick fingers working in and out of your tiny hole has you moaning and writhing beneath him. You’re always beautiful in his eyes, but there’s something about you with wild hair and eyes shut from pleasure that makes you practically irresistible to him.

Everything about Simon is larger than life, and the feeling of being so small in comparison to his hulking figure should be frightening. But when he’s above you, his large fingers toying with your pussy in the way he knows you just love, you feel protected. Like he’s your shield from the harsh world outside. Inside your shared bedroom, only you two exist.

Your back arches, forcing his fingers to reach even deeper. The texture of his gloves only adds to your pleasure and in an attempt to prepare you for his cock, Simon adds another finger to stretch out your tight cunt.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” His words come out through gritted teeth, as if it’s taking everything in him not to replace his fingers for his cock. His tolerance is hanging on by a mere thread, but he refuses to fuck you properly ‘til he’s certain you’re ready to take him. Only when your cum is coating the leather of his gloves will he know.

You nod, occasionally jerking your hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing after your high. You’re beginning to feel hotter, your pussy becoming even wetter, and neither of you can make out the words you’re mewling out. Perhaps your whines are pleas for more, maybe even mercy.

You can’t last any longer, and as his fingers curl against your sensitive walls, you find yourself nearly screaming his name as you gush around his fingers. He grins at the result of his hard work, withdrawing his fingers just to hold them up to you. His gloved hand glistens in the moonlight, and you can only watch as he raises his fingers to his mouth before sucking your essence off of them, effectively cleaning it up.

He never breaks eye contact with you once.

“Should I try it straight from the source?” His grin is teasing, the gleam in his eyes nothing short of wicked.

You weakly shake your head, already too fucked out to properly respond.

“No? I’ve been starving for your taste all those weeks I was gone, love. You don’t want to be a sweet girl and let me have my fill?” You know he’s just teasing you, but you still find yourself upset at the prospect of displeasing him.

“Not yet.” You pout, spreading your legs for him. “I wanna feel your cock.”

His grin only grows wider.

“Looks like my perfect girl’s been starving too, huh?” He leans down to give you a kiss, and you can taste a hint of your arousal lingering on his tongue. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll give you everything you want and more.”

Everything about Simon is larger than life.

The first time he ever fucked you, you had cried from the stretch of his massive girth invading your previously untouched cunt. The sensation of being filled to the brim was a foreign one, but a feeling you’re certain only he could provide. No matter how many times he’s had you, it always feels like it’s your first time taking him.

He’s whispering words of reassurance as he guides himself into your leaking entrance. Despite him working you to your peak, three fingers doesn’t begin to compare to his dick, and you find yourself whimpering over his words of praise.

“You’re doing so well for me, love. Such a good girl, my good girl.” He kisses your forehead, forcing every inch of himself inside until the tip of his cock is kissing your cervix. The pleasure of being so full outweighs the pain of the stretch your cunt has to make to accommodate his sheer size.

You stare down at where the two of you are connected, taking a sharp breath as the unmistakable bulge in your belly serves as undeniable evidence of just how deep Simon is capable of reaching. It’s always a wonder on how your tiny pussy is always able to take him, and Simon merely chuckles as he notices where you’re staring.

Using the same hand he used to coax your first orgasm with, he gently guides your hand to rest on top of the bulge. He’s smiling as he tells you, “Keep your eyes right there, darling. I want you to watch me as I fuck you.”

His thrusts are always powerful, a true sign of his strength. You’re not even sure where all his stamina comes from because no matter how exhausting his missions may appear to be, he always finds the energy to fuck you well throughout the night.

Your body’s natural instinct is to tighten around him, and the pressure has him growling as he works harder to piston his cock in and out of you. The lewd squelching noises, the smacking of skin against skin — everything is just so downright pornographic.

Your free hand finds purchase on his clothed back, nails digging through the fabric as he continues to work to bring the two of you to an explosive finish.

“Fuck, I missed you so much, darling.” He hisses, relishing in the tightness of your cunt and how your body takes him so well every time. “I don’t ever want to leave you alone again.”

You whine out for him, needing him closer even though he’s already as close as he can get. With his unyielding, powerful thrusts and your heightened sensitivity, neither of you is going to last much longer. He looks down to admire the imprint of his cock in your belly. He loves you and finds every little thing about your body perfect, but he can imagine your belly expanding to make room for his child and your tits swelling with milk. Fuck.

“Want to put a baby in you, love. Will you let me? You’ll never be alone again, not when we make the perfect lil’ family.” He grunts, and you nod, overjoyed at the idea of him wanting something so intimate. A family. Your family. He’ll give you a baby.

“Yes!” You scream out, feeling the coil in your stomach about to snap, every thrust bringing you closer and closer to breaking. “Wanna have your baby, wanna be with you forever.” The words come out sounding like sobs as you feel the tension inside of you snap.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Going to fill this cunt with my cum, darling.” His thrusts are becoming more erratic as he gets closer to losing control. Both of his hands grip your hips, his hold on you tight as he releases into you with a deep grunt. His cum is thick and warm, filling you up so much to the point where it’s already leaking out despite him staying inside of you all in an attempt to make sure it takes.

Breathless, wild-eyed, red cheeks — the both of you are an absolute mess.

You take a shaky hand to run through his hair that’s damp with sweat, and he leans into your gentle touch. You stare at him with a reverence he feels he doesn’t deserve.

“My hero.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 #smut #lemon #one shot #drabble

[the-iceni-bitch]

Mɪss Aᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Hᴇᴀʀᴛʙʀᴇᴀᴋ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇ

Relationship: professional tight end!Ari Levinson x pop superstar!fem reader

Words: ~3.7k

Summary: You and Ari bring in the holiday season with your own special celebration.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m receiving oral sex, f receiving oral sex, daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, dumbification, multiple orgasms) celebrity lifestyle, America’s sweethearts, 6’7” Ari. SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: an early Christmas gift for all you lovelies!! I think it’s painfully obvious what this fic was inspired by and I’m not even a little embarrassed about it. They’re too cute!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You waved exuberantly to the crowd as your float rolled past them, the cold autumn sunlight filtering through the skyscrapers and making the sequins all over your dress sparkle. It was absolutely freezing, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling like an idiot. Not only had your tour ended up being even more successful than you had ever thought it could be, you finally got to realize your dream of singing in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Of course, there was something else that had you smiling like an idiot for the past few months. As soon as you got close to the parade’s end at 34th Street you could see him in the stands, holding what may have been the most adorable homemade sign you had ever seen while surrounded by a bunch of screaming tween girls. He was easy to spot since he was six feet seven inches, which made it even cuter each time he had to bend down to answer one of their questions until they all started squealing. Ari was your big, burly, all American man but also perhaps the softest teddy bear on the planet.

When they all saw you they started screaming, and you beamed back at them, laughing when Ari lifted a little girl onto his shoulders so she could see better. Yeah, he was too cute for you, everything the man did made your ovaries flutter. It was hard not to just give him moony eyes all through your performance, but you managed to share your attention with the other fans as you sang your new Christmas song. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much once you were finished performing, like they did every time you saw your beefcake of a man.

Backstage was a zoo but when was it not. Assistants flurried around you as they helped you out of your intricate costume. By the time a large, warm hand slid around your waist you were down to nothing but your bra and some leggings. It’s not like Ari cared about that, though.

“Hey princess.” Ari beamed when you squeaked before turning around to look up at him. “You were amazing.”

“Staaaaaaaahp…” you giggled when he bent down to kiss the tip of your nose, batting your hands at his chest when he teased his hands under the hooks of your bra. “Ari! We only have a few minutes before we have to go to your game, I don’t want your teammates teasing you about being whipped by your superstar girlfriend again.”

“Baby, if I minded their teasing I wouldn’t be dating you.” He kissed your nose once more before pulling your sweater over your head. “There, ready to go in record time.”

“Ari… Ari!” You shrieked with laughter when he flung you over his shoulder and slapped your ass a few times, your face heating up as he got closer to the doors and outside where you knew a pack of paparazzi were waiting to catch the two of you. “Ari!!!”

“Calm down, princess.” He dropped you to the ground and kissed you so deeply you couldn’t breathe for a second, then opened the doors and led you outside with your hand in his even though you were blinking and stumbling like a newborn baby deer. “I feel like they would have thought it was cute.”

“Maybe.” You waved at a few of the paps and made sure they got a good shot of you kissing Ari’s cheek before stepping into the limo. “They do seem to enjoy how much bigger than me you are.”

“Do they now?” Ari pulled you into his lap and started pressing kisses all over your face. “I also enjoy it an incredible amount.”

“Yeah, I bet you do, teddy bear.” You giggled when he leaned back and his face was covered in glitter. “Oh, I think your teammates are still gonna tease you…”

“What? Why?” Ari furrowed his brow until you held up a compact so he could see himself. “Yeah they might.”

“My poor teddy bear.” You pouted and wiggled a little bit in his lap before you began to slide down to the floor between his legs. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

“Yeah, princess, I’m not sure getting glitter all over my dick is gonna keep them from teasing me… ow!” He guffawed when you pinched his thigh before starting to drag his zipper down. “But whatever, I don’t care.”

You hummed in agreement before pulling his thick cock out of his pants and licking a heavy stripe up the underside of his shaft, keeping your eyes fixed on his when you wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked softly. Ari groaned when you swirled your tongue around him, cupping your cheek gently for just a few seconds before curling it around your throat. The sensation of his fingers pressing against your carotid was one you welcomed, your eyes fluttering closed as you started bobbing your head up and down.

Every time you gave him head you marveled at just how huge he was; how he towered over you when you were on your knees; how your jaw ached as you stretched it as wide as you could; how even after so many months you still sometimes had to fight the urge to heave when he slid down your throat. His grip on your throat tightened as you started gagging around him, guttural grunts and murmurs falling from his lips as your drool slid down his shaft until it was covering his balls. Ari’s face was getting flushed as you kept going, and when he leaned forward and braced his massive thighs on either side of your shoulders you could have fainted.

His free hand gripped the edge of the seat until his knuckles turned white when you brought your own hand up to fondle his balls, his gaze intense and full of affection as his thumb stroked your throat. He throbbed and twitched in your mouth as you brought him closer and closer, the taste of his precum coating your tongue before you swallowed him to the root again. You whimpered when he swelled even larger, your eyes beginning to water as you breathed deeply through your nose and gulped around his massive cock.

When he finally came down your throat you sighed, watching his face screw up and then relax as he let out a primal groan. Ari looked so good when he came, the way every muscle in his body would tense up for just a few moments before he would sag and breathe easily as he gazed at you with a sense of possession. You made sure to keep your lips wrapped tightly around his cock as he started to pull out, slurping up every drop of his cum until he slid out of your mouth with a pop.

“Not a spot of glitter on your dick, teddy bear.” You beamed at him as you licked your lips clean, purring when he cupped your chin lovingly.

“No, just all over my pants.” Ari couldn’t help but laugh about it, especially when you spluttered and tried to wipe it off but only made it worse. “Princess, it's fine. No ones going to notice.”

“They have flashbulbs, Ari!” You whined when he tucked himself back in and pulled you up to sit next to him. “Oh my god…”

You didn’t have any more time to worry before the limo came to a stop, squeaking and feeling yourself getting hot again as Ari helped you out of the limo. Thank goodness the man practically ran as he led you towards the team entrance, not giving the press a chance to pick up the sparkly evidence of you fellating him that was all over his pants. Even though he had to go warm up he still took a minute to say goodbye to you, kissing you several times before heading to the locker room while you waved adorably.

He was definitely falling head over heels for you, and he didn’t even care who knew it. There was definitely an unbelievable amount of teasing in regards to the glitter on his crotch and in his beard, but it was good hearted. All of his teammates could tell how happy he was, so even the barbs about him being a kept man for the rest of his life were filled with that sort of friendly affection that old friends shared.

There was also the fact that he seemed to play exponentially better whenever you were in the stands. Analysts were quick to point out that whenever you were watching him play he tended to double his receiving yards, it even became a little joke among the sports commentators. What could he say, he liked to show off for his girl. As soon as he ran onto the field with the rest of the team and saw you cheering on the Jumbotron he felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

The trend continued. Maybe it was because every time he caught a pass or made a touchdown he could look up and see you screaming your adorable head off on the Jumbotron, but he managed to set a new personal record for receiving yards. Over a hundred yards by the fourth quarter as well as two touchdowns, and he could tell you were proud by the way you were jumping up and down in the box. Yes, he was extremely tired and extremely sore after so much effort, but the smile on your face made it more than worth it.

Ari couldn’t shower and get dressed fast enough. He definitely got some exasperated looks from the rest of the team when he left them to give all the post-game interviews, but it was hard to care when he knew you were waiting for him. As soon as he stepped out of the locker room you were right there, squealing happily and telling him how amazing he was while he lifted you off your feet to kiss you like a fiend. It was hard to control himself around you, but he managed to keep from feeling you up as you made your way to his car.

He couldn’t keep from feeling you up once you were in the Impala though. Every time he came to a light his hand was on your thigh or your waist, and when he heard your tiny little sighs he growled in response. You were starting to squirm in your seat too, and he knew exactly what that meant.

“Tell me how wet you are, princess.” Ari tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and toyed with the hem of your skirt while he waited for the light to change. “C’mon baby girl, I’ve been waiting all day.”

“Teddy bear…” you squeaked when he pinched the inside of your thigh and felt your face starting to get hot again. “Sorry, Daddy. I’m so wet, Daddy, my panties are sticky.”

“Yeah, I bet they fucking are.” He grumbled when the light changed and he had to focus on the road again. “Show me.”

“Yes Daddy.” Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slid your panties down your legs and hung them from the rear view mirror, wiggling even more when the air cooled the wetness that was between your legs.

It took all his restraint not to reach out and press them against his face. Yeah, he would have crashed the car, but dying with your scent filling his lungs was the way he wanted to go. He stopped himself just in time, though he did suddenly find himself speeding through traffic faster than the law allowed. When he finally pulled into the hotel’s garage he dragged you after him and lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist, leaving your panties dangling from the mirror without thought.

“Fuck, I need you real fucking bad, princess.” Ari’s lips vibrated against yours as he growled with lust. “I haven’t had your pussy in almost thirty-six hours, it’s killing me.”

“I know, I don’t like it either, Daddy.” You wound your arms around his neck as he carried you to the elevator. “Feel so empty without you.”

“I know, and it’s a damn crime.” He nipped at your chin as the elevator rose to your floor, grateful that no other guests decided to join you as he was pretty sure your ass was hanging out of your skirt. “My poor baby girl.”

You could only moan in agreement when the elevator arrived at your floor, giggling when Ari poked his head out first to make sure there was nobody in the hall before he started towards your room. While he worked on the door you nibbled on his ear, writhing against him and whining until you were in the room and he threw you onto the bed. Ari grinned at you as he ripped his shirt off and undid his pants, giving you a few mischievous growls and barks before pouncing on you.

Even when he was domming you he was still so soft and sweet, calling you his good girl and pretty princess while he kissed your neck and peeled your clothes off your body. The way he looked at you once you were naked made everything below your waist clench, especially when he growled at you like a hungry bear who was going to eat you alive. Then he leaned down to pull your legs over his shoulders and do just that.

“Daddy! Oh god…” Ari just grunted against you in response as he ran his tongue all over your pussy until you felt dizzy. “Mmm, ‘s so good.”

Ari knew it was good, he fucking loved making you turn into a panting, whimpering mess with your eyes rolled back in your head. It made him feel like a god. Those cute little noises and the way your thighs squeezed his head while he drank his fill from your cunt made him purr like a jungle cat. You were so sweet and so creamy, and the way your little pussy would pulse against his lips made his cock get so painfully hard he had to start grinding it against the bed.

His tongue parted your pussy lips so he could push it inside you and you had to kick your feet so you didn’t lose it completely. They thumped against his back as he started to gently fuck you with his mouth, your breathing starting to get heavier and heavier as every muscle in your body grew tight. Every single time he ate you out he managed to bring you to the edge so fast it was unbelievable, and tonight was no different. You were trembling underneath him, your eyes already starting to flutter and your toes curling while his beard rubbed your sensitive folds raw.

When he pulled his tongue out of you and started sucking on your clit that was it for you. You sobbed his name and arched off the bed as you gushed sweet juices all over his face. He reached his hands up to massage your breasts and that just made it more intense, tears rolling down your face and your fingers yanking on his hair while he kept sucking and squeezing until you couldn’t breathe.

“That’s my good girl.” Ari was grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he sat up between your quivering legs. “Fuck, you look so fucking pretty after you come, princess. You think you’re ready for Daddy’s big dick, honey?”

“Mmhm.” You licked your lips and gave up trying to catch your breath when he yanked his pants down and kicked them away so you could finally see him in all his naked glory. “Want it so bad, Daddy.”

“Daddy knows, princess.” He moved slowly as he crawled on top of you, his massive body completely covering yours and making your pussy start throbbing even harder. “You just relax and let Daddy take care of you, baby girl.”

You nodded and drew in a shuddering breath when he reached between the two of you to start rubbing your clit as he lined himself up. Ari hooked your knees over his hips to keep you wide open for him, his eyes fixed on your face for any sign of pain or discomfort as he started to push inside you. Even though he wanted to just drive his cock deep and fuck your brains out, he was painfully aware of your size difference and if he ever hurt you he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He could tell you were just as hungry for him, beaming at you when your hands clawed at his massive biceps when he finally got halfway in.

It felt like it took an hour, but when his hips finally met the soft flesh of your thighs you moaned and wiggled happily underneath him. Your body was slick with sweat and glowing, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Ari gripped your hands and pinned them above your head as he started to move, his lips ghosting against your throat when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock stretching you so wide it burned. You loved it, though, murmuring nonsense words of encouragement under your breath and locking your ankles at the small of his back.

When Ari really started to move you almost fainted, arching your body to meet his and whimpering when he sucked on your ear. He had hardly even gotten going before you were moaning and whining in his ear, your body spasming underneath him as you came for the second time and felt your muscles turning to jelly. Your pussy was so slick that Ari couldn’t stop himself from starting to slam into you, not that you minded. His breath was hot as he grunted against the sensitive skin of your throat, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of bruises in their wake while he shoved his cock so deep inside you you could swear you saw god.

Even though he had well and truly fucked you stupid he couldn’t stop murmuring sweet praises for you under his breath. Every ‘good girl’ or ‘pretty baby’ just made you slip further and further into the rosy haze of multiple orgasms as he wrung another one out of you. At some point he had rolled the two of you so your were laying on top of him, but it’s not like you could actually ride him in your fucked out state. So Ari was just holding your waist and moving you up and down on his cock like his own personal cocksleeve, grinning up at you the whole time and telling you how good and tight your pussy felt while you whined and drooled all over yourself.

“C’mon baby girl, you want it?” The teasing tone of his voice was still full of affection when you hiccuped as he fucked yet another intense orgasm out of your body. “Daddy needs to hear his princess say she wants his cum or I’m just gonna end up fucking you all night, and I’m not sure you could handle that, baby.”

“Mm-mm… Daddy…” you couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore, crying softly as you rested your face in the crook of his shoulder as he continued to drive up into you. “Please come inside my pussy, please. I want it, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl.” Ari kissed the top of your head and gave a lewd grind of his hips, chuckling into your hair when you shuddered with another climax. “Can’t say no to you, princess.”

Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt him swell and throb inside you, a low whine escaping from you when you felt the first hot, sticky spurt of his seed shooting inside your pussy. Ari held you close as he filled you to the brim, his big hands rubbing your hips while his body rolled under yours and he let out one of those yummy groans he always made when he got to come inside you. When you finally came to you were still on top of him, only barely able to lift your head and beaming at the sight of his face flushed red as he struggled to come back down.

“Hiiiiiii teddy.” You scrunched up your face adorably when he grinned at you and kissed your forehead. “I’d say that was a pretty good way to kick off the holiday season.”

“I’m gonna have to agree with you there, princess.” His thick fingers trailed along the curve of your spine and you felt like you could fall asleep just like that. “Definitely gonna have to keep it up. Speaking of holidays, though, I may have gotten you an early present, since we’re gonna be apart next week.”

“A present? Ari!” You squeaked and giggled when he reached towards the nightstand without letting you climb off him, shivering when the change in position made him rub right against your over sensitive clit. “That still gives you three weeks until Christmas, silly.”

“Well fuck me for wanting to spoil my girl.” He kissed all over your face and pulled out a small velvet box. “I know how much you like statement jewelry, so I figured the statement for this one could be just how smitten you are with your beefy football player boyfriend.”

“Ari… oh my god!” You sat up so fast when he opened the box you almost fell off him, grinning like an idiot when he caught you at the last second and steadied you while he showed you the ring. “It’s so big and sparkly!”

The moonstone in the ring was at least fifteen karats, and surrounding the center stone was a chain of labradorite that glittered under the low lights in the hotel room. As soon as he placed it on your right ring finger you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his face over and over and squealing with happiness.

“Everyone is gonna think we’re getting married now, teddy bear.” You rested your head against his chest once you made sure every inch of his face had been kissed at least once.

“Well, not quite yet, princess.” Like he hadn’t known the moment you said yes to a second date with him that he was going to marry you.

#natalie writes #holiday fic #ari levinson #football player!ari levinson #popstar fem!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson smut #female reader #chris evans #chris evans character x reader #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #chris evans character #swiftie coded #miss americana and the heartbreak prince

[wandanatsgf]

Sugar, Sugar Part 1

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After losing your job, you are desperate to come up with some money. Your best friend Kate signs you up for a sugar baby app where you meet Wanda and Natasha, who eventually become your sugar mommies.

Authors Note: I've been reading so many sugar mommy!wandanat x reader fics that I wanted to make one myself. I know the beginning is a bit rough, but I'm just trying to set everything up. I promise it will get better!!!! There will also be plenty of smut in the upcoming chapters, this is just a warning for that now. And I plan on making many parts to this. I hope you all enjoy it!

Part 2

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you dramatically exclaim. You drape yourself across the old and slightly musty couch in your small two person apartment. Your work uniform rides up your body a little as you lay down, which you quickly pull down, covering yourself again. You pull your right arm over your eyes, trying to block out the light and the horrible day you just had.

Your best friend and roommate Kate laughs sympathetically at your dramatics. “I know getting fired sucks but there’s tons of ways to make money.” She moves your legs and sits down next to you, placing your legs on top of her.

“Like what?”

“Well you could mow lawns, dog sit, babysit, just until you find another job,” Kate suggests.

“I guess I could but I just don’t know if that would be able to cover my bills and let alone rent.”

“Well there is another thing you can try.” The tone in Kate's voice has you sitting up, removing your arm so you can look at her.

“You remember my friend Darcy that I told you about?”

“Yeah the super rich, successful one.”

“Well when she was in college she was a sugar baby,” Kate says before she cuts herself off to scold you.  “And y/n don’t give me that look just hear me out!”

“Ok fine, keep talking.”

“Well she got a whole bunch of money from it. She was able to pay off her student loans and she had some money leftover that she invested and y’know now she’s rich and super successful and hot and amazing. But that wasn’t the point.” Kate shakes her head at herself, scolding herself for getting off topic like she always does. “Anyway maybe you should try being a sugar baby.”

“I don’t know Kate.” Sure this would be a great opportunity for you, if you find someone that is, but do you really want to use your body to get money?

“You could just look and see what’s out there. You don’t have to accept any sugar daddy or sugar mommy proposals,” Kate says and you’ve got to admit that she’s got a good point.

“Ok what the hell,” you say, agreeing.

“Let me just get the sugar baby app name from Darcy and we can do this.”

A few minutes later the app is downloaded on your phone. You feel nervous but also excited. This could be a way for you to not have to worry about money, at least for a while. Maybe it would be nice to be taken care of.

“Ok it’s downloaded, let’s set it up.” The two of you create your profile and pretty soon you’re looking at sugar mommies and sugar daddies.

“What about this one?” You ask Kate. You pass her the phone, and from the look on her face you can tell that it’s a no go.

“Definitely not,” Kate says, her nose wrinkling up in disgust.

“Why not?”

“I know you, and that’s not what you want.” You have to admit she is right, you don’t really want some 50 year old with a penchant for “parading his girls around” as he called it, but you’re desperate and he is the best looking person on there so far.

You continue to scroll through the men and women, none of them really catching your eye until you see the profile of a beautiful red haired girl and an equally beautiful auburn haired girl. You would recognize their faces anywhere, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the owners of the country's best security company.

“There’s no way this is real,” you say. “This has to be some sort of joke or something.” You pass her your phone and watch as her eyes go comically wide.

“There’s no way the Natasha Romanoff and the Wanda Maximoff are looking for a sugar baby,” you say. You practically scoff at the idea, but there’s still that little voice in your head that wonders if maybe the profile is real.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Kate says. She still has your phone in your hands and you watch as she types, until finally she stops.

“Katie what did you do?”

“I just messaged them,” Kate says innocently. You glance down at the message and it says, “Hi my name is y/n and I’d love to get to know you both and see if I’m what you’re looking for ;),”

“Did you have to add the wink Katie? They’re gonna think I’m like a whore or something now,” you whine.

“Oh relax you big baby. It’s fine. And besides maybe a whore is what they’re looking for,” Kate says, giving you a wink.

“Kate!” You exclaim. You lightly slap her on the arm.

“Owww y/n. You’re very feisty for such a tiny person.”

“Serves you right,” you mutter underneath your breath. The two of you continue to scroll through the app when you see a notification pop up.

Natasha and Wanda had replied to your message.

“Oh my god,” you say. You can feel yourself freaking out, even when you’re going into the texting part of the app and opening the message.

“Hi darling, we’d love to get to know you more too! We’re Natasha and Wanda, we’re both sugar mommies who are looking for a sugar baby to share. We work quite a bit, but we promise that we’ll still have time for you if things work out between us. Can’t wait to hear back from you,” the message reads. You show the message to Kate who responds with excitement.

But you can feel yourself freaking out on the inside even more now. However your doubts from earlier creep in and calm you down. There’s a big chance that this is just a catfish, but you still want to take the chance. Who wouldn’t want an opportunity to be with Natasha and Wanda?

“Help me come up with a response,” you tell the girl sitting next to you. After a few minutes of back and forth, the two of you come up with what you think is the perfect response.

“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I’m y/n, a sugar baby who is currently in college trying to pay off my loans. I normally have plenty of time on my hands and would be able to be around whenever you need.”

You cringe at the last part of the message, which was all Kate’s idea, but clearly it worked because a few minutes later you have a text inviting you out to get some coffee tomorrow afternoon and you say yes.

“You have to come with me though, just in case it’s like a catfish or something,” you tell your best friend. 

“Of course, I’ll sit in the cafe and just text me if you need me,” Kate says reassuring you. 

The next day comes too quickly and before you know it you and Kate are sitting in the cafe waiting for Natasha and Wanda. You’re sitting at a table in the back, while Kate is sitting at a table across the room from you. The minutes seem to drag on forever, making you even more anxious than you already are. Everytime the bell above the door goes off, you glance up, hoping it’s one of the girls walking through. You’re just about to lose hope when you see Natasha and Wanda walk in. They look so breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Hi Y/n,” Wanda says, being the first to greet you. She towers over you as she envelopes you in a hug, which you gladly reciprocate.  

“Hi,” you say back. It comes out quieter than you meant it to. You can feel your cheeks heating up, but gladly both women ignore it. 

“And hi I’m Natasha,” the red haired girl says. She also towers over you, but you like that about the two women. She also envelopes you into a hug. She smells like vanilla and smoke and it gives you a sense of comfort. The three of you sit down and the two women get straight to the point. 

“So as you know we’re looking for a sugar baby,” Natasha says, her voice a low tone. “We just wanted to meet with you today to go over some things and see if we’d get along,” she explains. 

“Ok that sounds good,” you agree. 

“Have you ever been in a dynamic like this before?” 

“No I haven’t,” you say, your blush coming back. You can feel your nerves getting worse as well as you fidget with a ring on your hand. 

“It’s ok to be nervous baby, we won’t bite,” Wanda leans in to tell you. She places her hand on top of yours, stopping your fidgeting. She places her hand in yours, which you gladly hold. 

“That’s alright, we’re pretty new to this too. But there are a couple of things we wanted to go over today. First, when do you have class?”

“Well Tuesday and Thursday mornings I have class until 11am, but besides that my days are wide open.” This answer makes Natasha smile, which in turn makes you smile. 

“What is it that you need help with?” You appreciate that Natasha is getting straight to the point, it’s doing wonders at calming your nerves.

“Mostly rent and some bills. I, uh, just lost my job and it’s been hard to stay afloat.”

“Well that won’t be a problem now that we’re here,” Natasha tells you, sending you a wink. The action sends a blush across your face, turning it a shade of pink. 

"I know this isn't exactly normal," Natasha says, "But we promise if today works out, which I think it will, we'll take care of you darling." Natasha's words make you smile. Normally you were never so shy around people, but the two women next to you really bring it out in you.

“Do you have any questions for us honey?” Wanda asks. 

“Yes actually. What is it exactly that I would be doing?”

“You would keep us company, go to some company functions with us, and,” Natasha says, her voice dropping low as she says the next part, “have sex with us when we want it.”

“But obviously we would work up to that part,” Wanda adds cheerfully. 

“Ok,” you say, taking all of that information in. You knew going into this that sex would be on the table, but it shocks you that these two beautiful women are wanting to do it with you. 

“I’m sorry if this is a weird question, but aren’t the two of you together? What exactly do you need me for?”

“Yes we’re together sweetheart, but we’re not the most compatible in the bedroom.”

“What Wanda means is that we’re both pretty dominant and we need someone submissive to fulfill our needs,” Natasha says. Wanda slaps her on her arm and lightly scolds her, making you giggle. 

“I can do that,” you say, letting both of them know that you want this. The thought of being submissive for both of them stirs a longing within you. You can feel a slight dampness in your panties and you cross your legs, hoping Wanda, who is still holding your hand, doesn’t notice. But of course she does. 

“You already feeling a little needy, baby?” Wanda whispers, her cockiness coming out of nowhere, but god does it turn you on. Her lips ghost on the outer shell of your ear, causing your breathing to become ragged. 

“Mhm,” you manage to get out. 

“You’re so cute when you’re needy. I can’t wait to see just how needy I can make you,” Wanda says. She leans away from you, but not before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, making you go pink.

“Don’t kill the poor girl Wanda,” Natasha scolds. 

“I can’t help it, she’s just so cute,” Wanda says, like you aren't there, which just turns you on even more. 

“Yeah she is,” Natasha agrees. 

You don’t know what to say, too absorbed in your own lust, when Natasha speaks again, snapping you out of it.

“Here are our phone numbers,” she says, slipping you a piece of paper. You take the pieces of paper and program their numbers into your phone and you give them your number and they do the same.

“We’ll text you tomorrow to work out the details and set up a contract, assuming you still want to do this?” Wanda questions. 

“I do,” you reassure her. 

“Then we’ll talk to you tomorrow, detka,” Wanda says. The two women get up, both hugging you goodbye. You watch the two women walk out, having forgotten that Kate was also at the cafe until she comes up to you. 

“Oh my god,” Kate says.

“I know,” is all you say.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get two sugar mommies.”

#wandanat #wandanat x reader #marvel #mcu #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #sugar mommy!wanda #sugar mommy!natasha #scarlet witch x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #wanda x reader smut #natasha x reader smut

[eiightysixbaby]

sunscreen and chlorine

word count: 3.5k

pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader

summary: things get steamy during an unbearably hot day at the hawkins pool.

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), sexual innuendos with a popsicle, sex in a public place, unprotected p in v, creampie, billy is mentioned in this lol. lmk if i forgot any!

author’s note: lifeguard!eddie has been invading my brain for days so here, have this.

It was hot. So, so unbelievably hot. The kind of heat where you step outside and feel like you can’t breathe for a second, where the air feels thick and heavy and sweat clings to your skin relentlessly. There was no breeze, none at all, just stagnant heat lingering. Naturally, just about everyone in Hawkins was at the community pool, dying for a way to cool down. Bare feet walking on hot pavement, vibrant swimsuits almost blinding in the sun. Brightly colored beach balls being tossed around in the water as screams and splashes rang out. Eddie sat perched in his lifeguard chair, bright red swim trunks covering his bottom half, stopping a little bit above his knees. A black tank top rested on his torso, clinging tight to modest muscles. Even in the blistering summer, Eddie wasn’t one to parade around with his shirt off. Much unlike Billy, who would take any chance he could get to be wearing as little clothing as possible, showing off his biceps to the suburban mothers who’d fawn over him. Bored women who married boring men that they felt close to nothing for, all for the sake of having that nuclear family, now dying to relive their teenage years. Eddie would occasionally throw scandalous remarks their way when they’d whistle at him, but for the most part he didn’t bite.

Eddie was honest to god sweltering, to put it lightly. The shade from the umbrella attached to the chair provided little comfort for him, but at least it kept most of his skin from receiving direct sun exposure. He’d already applied sunscreen several times, rubbing the white cream all over just to sweat it off a half hour later, and then repeat the process. His pale skin was unforgiving in the summer months, quick to turn an angry red if Eddie wasn’t careful about being in the sun. There’d been one too many occasions where he’d sat perched on the kitchen counter after hot summer days, Wayne rubbing aloe on his stinging skin. Sometimes Eddie isn’t sure why he chose to have a job that required him to be exposed to the elements so often, but hey, it pays the bills.

He peered through his sunglasses at all of the patrons in the pool, wishing he could feel the cool water on himself. His hair was pulled back into a low bun, keeping the heavy curls from making his neck too warm. He kept himself occupied any way he could, blowing his whistle at kids who insisted on running around the pool grounds despite several signs warning not to, laughing to himself when they’d slow to a walk, staring up at him with guilty eyes. Sat high on his perch, his eyes scanned over the various suspects down below - teenage girls sprawled out on towels, pretending like they weren’t absolutely miserable in the sun as they tanned their skin, Jason Carver walking towards the pool with Chrissy Cunningham over his shoulders, laughing in protest about the water being too cold, Billy flirting excessively with anything with a pulse instead of watching the pool. Eddie huffed a sigh, for as busy a day as it was, there was very little for him to actually do. Not that he wanted to have to, you know, save somebody from drowning today or something, but he was just bored. Ninety-five percent of the town’s population had to be here today, and yet none of his friends were around to keep him entertained. He was hot, he was cranky, and he just wanted to go home and unwind. Needed to smoke a joint, maybe rub one out, and go the fuck to sleep.

After yelling at some teenager to stop dunking unsuspecting people under the water, he resumed his people watching. His whistle sat loosely in his mouth, Eddie absentmindedly fidgeting with the silver metal between his teeth, whispers of that shrill chirping sound fighting their way out of the object every time he’d exhale too hard. Pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them on top of his head, his brown eyes roamed over the grounds until they landed on you. He recognized you, remembers you from high school though you two were never close. A pretty thing - you always have been - sprawled across a lounge chair, one leg crossed over the other casually. Water droplets dried on your skin, and the ends of your hair were wet, indicating your recent swim. You had a popsicle pressed between your lips, sticky red juice melting down your hand, the heat affecting the sweet ice too fast for you to keep up with. He doesn’t fully realize how hard he’s been staring until your eyes catch his, and you cock an eyebrow at him. He feels his cheeks heat up, for once from something other than the sun, and is about to just scamper down from his chair and into a hole in the ground before you wave at him, fingers delicately wiggling his way.

He gives you a casual wave back, fully catching the smile that you try to cover with your hand. Your eyes are unwavering on his thin frame, taking in his pale skin that’s littered here and there with tattoos. Gaze pausing on the soft muscles in his arms, trailing down to the fabric of his swim trunks, bunched up just below the waistband, concealing the rest of him that you’d very much like to see. You notice that he doesn’t stop looking at you, either. Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes rake up your legs, the vibrant pink of your bathing suit complimenting the rest of you. He swears his heart almost stops when he meets your eyes again, noticing the sultry look in them as you slowly push your popsicle past your lips once more. It almost completely disappears in your mouth before you pull it out, excruciatingly slowly. You lick it from bottom to top, tongue flat against the strawberry flavored treat, eyes never leaving Eddie’s.

He feels his cock twitch slightly in his swim trunks, suddenly finding it incredibly hard to focus on doing his job. You knew what you were doing, and you weren’t about to back down from what Eddie could tell. The dense heat was getting to his head, his brain turning to mush as he watched you. Juice from the popsicle slowly trickled down your chin until you wiped it with your fingers, proceeding to stick the index and middle in your mouth, sucking the sweet syrup off. Eddie shifts in his seat, subtly adjusting the fabric of his swim trunks, trying to conceal the bulge growing beneath them. You notice the awkward movement, lips twisting into a smirk as your mouth resumes its work on your popsicle. By the time you’ve consumed the entirety of the cold treat, pulling the last bit off the stick with your teeth and letting it melt in your mouth, Eddie is uncomfortably hard. He’s pulled the bright red rescue tube that was once secured at the side of the lifeguard chair over his lap, which wouldn’t seem like a calculated maneuver to anyone except you. You know the effect you’ve had on him, and he knows you’re enjoying it. Now that you’re done putting on a little show for him, he’s not sure what to do next. Was that it? Seductively eat your popsicle for him and it’s over, resume his shift as normal? He couldn’t exactly shout across the way at you to ask for your number - or at least, he didn’t want to make an absolute buffoon of himself trying.

He didn’t have to deliberate for long before he caught you jerking your head to the side, eyes following in the direction of the changing rooms and showers. You stood slowly from your chair, making sure he got the hint, before walking towards the big blue door to the women’s changing rooms. He couldn’t help but admire the way your ass looked as you walked away from where he was perched, soft flesh peeking out around the fabric of your bathing suit bottoms. Eddie was fully aware of the fact that fooling around with you at his place of employment in the middle of his shift was probably not a wise idea, but fuck it. He couldn’t hold off any longer. Gangly legs climbed down the steps of the lifeguard post until his feet hit the pavement below, almost immediately protesting at the heat coming from the concrete. He walked quickly in the direction you had led him, pulling his shirt over his head and bunching it in front of him to conceal the horrendously obvious tent in his pants. He approached Billy who gave him a questioning look.

“Cover for me for a few, man,” Eddie said quietly, for only Billy to hear, shoving the rescue tube at the shorter man for him to take.

“What?” Billy asked, stumbling back ever so slightly as Eddie presses the red safety equipment into his chest.

“Just fucking cover for me,” his voice was firm, and he walked away before Billy could say another word. The other man huffed an annoyed sigh as he headed for the lifeguard chair.

Eddie stepped cautiously into the changing rooms, not wanting to startle any unsuspecting pool patrons, but was pleasantly surprised when the only person he found inside was you. You leaned against a wall nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair around your fingers, smiling warmly at him.

“Hey, handsome. Decided to join me?” your voice is playful as you eye him up and down.

“That little show you put on sure was something, sweetheart,” Eddie says lowly, stalking slowly towards you.

“Just wanted to get you all worked up for the real deal,” you smirk at him, and he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Give me one sec,” he says quickly, turning on his heel.

Eddie heads back towards the door, grabbing the maintenance sign that sits in the corner. It reads, ‘Sorry! Temporarily closed for cleaning. We apologize for the inconvenience. -Hawkins Community Pool Staff’. He posts it on the outside of the door, letting the heavy metal swing closed behind him. Best to cover all of his bases here, he certainly doesn’t want any kids getting scarred for life today.

“We don’t exactly want an audience, now do we?” he asks as he walks slowly back towards you.

“No, no I guess not,” you reply, index finger bent with the nail between your teeth, a nervous habit shining through your casual demeanor.

Eddie stands mere inches away from you, breath fanning your face every time he exhales. He finds it hard to contain himself, wants nothing more than to have his hands on you. He steps even closer, looking down at you, loose strands of hair falling from his bun. He discarded the shirt he’d been holding onto the floor, and you find your eyes trailing down to his crotch, the slight bulge beneath the brightly colored fabric looking ever so appealing. His big brown eyes watch you intently, searching for any signs of your discomfort.

“You sure you want this?” he asks, voice steady.

“Yeah, ‘m sure. I’ve secretly been wanting you since we were fucking eighteen, so,” you laugh lightly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Shit, you could’ve been teasing me with popsicles this whole time?” Eddie jokes, reaching his hands out and letting them gently rest on your hips.

You’re quiet, just admiring the soft freckles on his face and the warm brown of his eyes and those full pink lips. Eddie notices the way your eyes linger on his mouth, and his lips curl into a wicked grin.

“What’re you looking at me like that for, honey? Need something?” Eddie asks, teasing, his face so deliciously close to yours.

“Think I’m in serious need of mouth to mouth…” you say, trying to tease him back but your voice is breathy.

In an instant he’s swept you into a kiss. He groans softly as your hands climb up the back of his neck, tugging on his hair where it meets his scalp. His head is swirling, still fuzzy from the early July heat and now from the feel of your soft lips on his. You smell like sunscreen and chlorine, taste like artificial strawberry flavoring. Your lips are passionate yet gentle in their movements against his, and he wants to melt onto the floor for someone to mop up later. The kiss deepens rapidly before Eddie finally has to break away, the temperature in the large room growing to be unbearable. You read his mind before he can even say anything, and pull him into a shower stall, turning the water on to a comfortably cool temperature. You close the curtain behind you, and when you turn back to face him you drop to your knees, hands grabbing at the soft fabric of his swim shorts.

Eddie feels like he’s floating, like the scorching day got to his head and he’s having some weird fever dream hallucination. The feeling of your fingers ghosting over his happy trail and hooking under the waistband of his shorts brings him back down to earth. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tug the swim trunks down, his cock springing free a couple inches from your face. You’re mesmerized at the sight in front of you. He was big, longer than most you’ve seen but less thick. His cock seemed to stare you directly in the face, flushed pink tip leaking pre cum. A small patch of dark curls rested at the base, and his heavy balls hung low beneath. You lick your lips, cool water from the shower falling in small streams over his shoulders and down his chest. The smooth tile floor is hard against your knees, you’re sure they’ll be bruised and sore tomorrow. You grab the base of him, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue a few times, looking up at him with wide doe eyes. Eddie hisses, grabbing fistfuls of your hair with his hands.

“Don’t be a tease, honey,” he growls down at you, and you look at him innocently.

“Me? Never,” you reply, taking the head of his cock in your mouth in one swift movement.

He inhales abruptly, then lets out a sigh as you slowly bob your head on his cock, adjusting to the warm feeling of your mouth. You take him as deep as you can, his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. Eddie groans in response to this, pulling tighter on your hair, silently begging for you to do it again. You oblige, letting the head of his cock abuse your throat, mouth wide open for him.

“Fuck, baby, feels so fucking good,” Eddie’s voice is deeper than before, his eyes dark as they watch your movements.

You lean down further, sucking his balls into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over the stretchy skin. He genuinely yelps, surprised at the contact, eyes squeezed shut. You smile to yourself before sucking them into your mouth once again, Eddie’s whines and whimpers echoing throughout the walls of the building. You bring a hand up to toy with his balls as you redirect your mouth’s attention to the swollen tip of his cock, practically pleading for you to take it past your lips. Eddie’s in shambles as you lick and suck his sensitive head, cleaning the salty pre cum off with your tongue. You take him fully into your mouth again without warning, eliciting moans and curses as he steadies himself with one hand on the shower wall. The contrast between the cold water hitting his back and the sticky humid air tickling the skin of his chest made his head spin, the warmth of your mouth engulfing him only adding to the varying sensations. He feels himself inching closer and closer towards release, and he abruptly grabs your chin and pulls you gently off of him.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Need to be inside that pussy,” he’s trying to maintain his composure but the words come out like a whine, like he’s desperate for you.

You nod as you look up at him, admiring the water droplets that fall from his bangs and the tip of his nose, pussy throbbing between your thighs as his cock rests inches from your face.

“Use your words, pretty thing. Tell me I can fuck you,” Eddie coaxes you, pulling you to stand in front of him

“Yes, Eddie, please. Want you to fuck me,” your eyes are pleading and it makes his cock twitch.

He wraps his arms around to your backside, signaling for you to jump. He holds you securely, back now pressed against one of the shower walls, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips are on yours instantly, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth with fervor as you whimper for him. His mouth travels down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Hot tongue licking your sticky skin, the faint taste of sweat lingering. He pushes the wet fabric of your swimsuit bottoms to the side, lining himself up with your entrance. He kisses you deeply as you feel him slide into you, stretching you open just for him, velvety walls snug around his cock. He groans into your mouth, pushing himself slowly in to the hilt, and your nails claw at his back in desperation. The stretch is so good your toes curl, your body begging and screaming for more.

“P-please, Eddie, oh my god,” you whine, Eddie’s lips now attacking your neck.

“What, honey? What do you need?” Eddie purrs, big hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

“Need you to move, fuck me rough Eddie, please,” you beg him, clinging to him like a vice.

He gets his bearings on the slippery floor before rutting up into you, slick sounds of wet skin on wet skin bouncing around the shower stall. Eddie gasps as his cock fills you once more, every thrust reaching so deep, his thick fingers pressing into your smooth skin as he supports your weight. You can hear faint screams and laughter from the pool outside, and the reminder of the way no one on the outside knows what Eddie’s doing to you in here makes you dizzy with desire. Eddie’s grunting with every snap of his hips, hair frizzy and bangs sticking to his forehead, a panting mess as he fucks you like his life depends on it. You’re sure your lower back will be sore after this, every jolt to your body ramming you against the wall, but you’re too drunk on Eddie to care. The way your legs are wrapped around him opens you up for his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you, and you’re screaming his name as he pounds relentlessly into your sopping cunt.

“Yeah? Feels good, baby? You like having my cock deep inside you?” Eddie rasps into your ear, hips moving at an unforgiving pace.

The friction against your clit as his body moves against yours paired with the way his cock hits your favorite spot inside of you has you approaching your release rapidly, your body aching to let go. Eddie’s close, too, moaning out strings of curse words and praise as your walls suck him in.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey, where do you want it?” he asks breathlessly, brown eyes blown wide as they search your face.

“Inside, need it inside,” you choke the words out, so blissed out it’s hard to speak.

Eddie picks up his pace, hips stuttering as he lets himself go. You feel his cock twitch, warmth spreading inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. Your orgasm hits you the second you feel him fill you, clenching around his already spent cock, milking him for everything he’s got. Eddie presses his forehead to yours, releasing the harsh grip on your hips as he gently sets you down. Your legs tremble, cum leaking out of you and dripping down the insides of your thighs. You rinse them off with the water from the shower head, before turning it off.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Eddie pants, pulling his swim trunks up before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“When do you get off work? Maybe you could come over after,” your voice is shy as you suggest it.

“I’m the closing guard tonight, actually. Sooo… I could totally get fired for this, but if you wanted to come back here around 8pm after lock up, I could give you some, y’know, private swimming lessons,” he smirks, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

“Count me in, baby. I think I’m gonna be needing lessons weekly, though…” you trail off, heavy lidded eyes looking at him as you twirl his hair around your fingers.

“I can work with that,” Eddie grins, pulling you into a kiss.

As the heat of the day eventually fades into a hazy nightfall, Hawkins residents slowly filing out of the pool and returning home, Eddie thinks of nothing but you. Billy almost slugged him for leaving him in charge for so long, but in Eddie’s book it was worth it. Sure enough, at 8pm on the dot, you saunter towards the gate to the pool. In your left hand was another popsicle.

Eddie was sure you’d be the death of him tonight.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part one

PART TWO • PART THREE • PART FOUR // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 2.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T O N E 🎶 good girls ( john carpenter remix ), chvrches

“Why is she even here?”

“Steve!”

A loud smack cut the air in two as Robin slapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder, rendering the rest of group there in Max’s trailer silent.

Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, cheeks burning under his gaze, lips twisted into a scowl and trying hard to hold back the daggers you wanted so badly to throw at him.

“She doesn’t know what the hell we’re up against! How’s she supposed to–“

“Steve, none of us knew either, cut her a break.”

“Cut her a break and then what? We all get eaten by a fucking melted people monster?”

“That’s not fair–“

“It’s fine! It’s fine, Nancy,” you cut the girl off, standing quickly from your spot on the couch.

They’d been talking like this since you showed up. Like you weren’t right there in the room with them and honestly you kind of wished you weren’t anymore.

“I need some air,” you grumbled before giving Steve a pointed glare and shouldering open the front door.

The air outside was crisp as you sat down on the front stoop. Not a cloud in the sky and sunlight washing everything in soft golden light, but it all still felt so dark. Like it was harboring thick shadows. Long, spindly, and pitch black. Waiting to wrap their twisted fingers around you.

Waiting to dig into you and squeeze tight.

Waiting to lift you twenty feet into the air and snap your bones like twigs.

Waiting to leave you for dead.

And here was Steve fucking Harrington asking what right you had to be there. Asking what purpose were you gonna serve amongst this “holier than thou” joke of an army. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie had already gotten their asses handed to them by what they’d called demobats, Steve arguably needing serious medical attention, and they wanted to go back? It took everything you had to not leave right there on the spot.

Hell, maybe you should, you thought for a minute. You didn’t owe them anything, especially Steve, but you did owe it to your best friend. The one who basically had a hit out on him. The one who wouldn’t hurt a goddamn fly, but all of Hawkins had already decided he was guilty and you weren't about to leave him.

Eddie.

❝ SO SAVE YOUR BREATH, GIVE A LITTLE OF WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT – DO THEY KNOW SOMETHING I DON’T? ❞

You met him two years ago under the bleachers at the Homecoming football game. It seemed like the perfect place to smoke the joint you’d messily rolled in the car right before you’d come into the stadium and apparently you’d been right, but someone else had already laid claim to it...

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but this is kind of my spot.”

He’d been all black leather and denim. Dark curls and clove. Silver rings and chains and heavy boots and maybe you should’ve been more intimidated, but the smile lines at the corners of his mouth gave him away.

“Don’t see a sign anywhere,” you’d shot back, no hesitation. Looked over at him all skeptics and attitude and took a long drag from your joint. Blew the smoke off in his direction and it made him grin like an idiot.

“Been sellin’ weed down here for like…the last three years so–actually, yeah. What the fuck, man. Someone owes me a sign.”

...And that was it, you were a goner. Laughing mid-toke and coughing so hard you cried and it made him feel so bad he gave you a baggy for free. Eddie "the freak" Munson and you – best friends.

Skipped all the stupid dances and football games with you. Paraded around the lunch room like an idiot with you. Threw fries back at the jocks for you when they called you a loser and sat on the floor in the bathroom with you when you cried.

So fuck “King Steve” Harrington.

You had every right to be there, probably even more than he did and you were gonna tell him to his face, but—

“Can I sit?”

The sudden sound of someone else made you jump.

“Jesus, Eddie.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled and sat down next to you. Gave you a sidelong glance and a small lopsided smile. “He’s really not so bad–”

“You’re joking. Right? Tell me you’re joking.”

The boy hummed, dropped his gaze down to the rings wrapped around his fingers and twisted the one on his thumb.

“He doesn’t want me here. None of them do,” you grumbled, frustration fed further by his non-answer and it pulled his eyes back up to you.

“Hey now, that’s not true–”

“Yes it is! Even Nancy looks at me like a kicked puppy.”

That pulled a laugh from him. Made him scoot closer to you and bump his shoulder into yours. “Listen, sweetheart,” the nickname made you soften, but you tried to keep your scowl in place, “We’re all in over our fuckin’ heads, hm? And Stevie boy…he’s seen some shit. He’s just trying to–”

“Just trying to what? Be a complete dickhead about it? Mission accomplished.”

Eddie sighed and roughed a hand over his face. Rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He knew what you felt because he’d felt it too. Knew what it was like to get laughed at and mocked in the lunch room. Knew how it was supposed to be between him and the other boy. Hell, he nearly cut Harrington’s face off with a broken bottle a few days ago, but one thing was clear.

Change was possible and Steve Harrington was proof, he just wasn’t great at showing it.

“Alright. He could be less of a dick,” he conceded, propping his chin in his hand and looking at you with his big brown eyes. How could you be mad at that?

You mumbled under your breath about that not being the only thing, but fine, okay, only for you, Eds.

Reaching over he flicked at your fingers and looked at you from under his curls with a stern pinch between his brows. “He’s helping me, sweetheart. They all are. Shit, without them I’d probably be in jail already. Or in Carver’s trunk,” he tried a laugh, but it fell short at the end with the weight of his words and it made you grab at his hand and squeeze it.

“Shut up,” you chided softly, no heat behind it. The anger that had been swelling in your chest all but extinguished.

Silence settled between the two of you then, heavy and tinged at the edges with worry. With everything that was at risk and it started to gnaw at the pit of your stomach. What if you couldn’t fix it? And even if you could, this Vecna asshole was about to end the world anyway so what the hell did it matter?

How were a bunch of kids going to do anything about it?

“Ahem,” the door knocked into your back and jolted you back to earth. Pulled a gasp from you and when you looked up over your shoulder you felt your anger return ten fold. “We’re leaving, geniuses,” Steve announced, pushing at you with the door.

“Least you know you’re an idiot,” you mumbled under your breath, standing up from your spot to glare at him at eye level.

“Real cute,” Steve shouldered past you on the stoop, took the last two steps in one go and turned to face you both as he landed on the grass. “For you, Munson,” he said, throwing a mask at Eddie, “Courtesy of Mayfield.”

“What’s that for?” you couldn’t help asking as Max appeared at your side and pointed so casually – too casually – at the mask.

“Gonna steal a Winnebago. Get that on, dingus. Let’s go.”

“Nice,” Eddie grinned up at the red-headed girl and yanked the mask on over his head, “Thanks, Red.”

“Let’s go,” Steve urged, waving his hands at everyone to get out of the house and you felt your heart racing.

“Steal a Winnebago? Eddie. Fuck that–”

“Honey, I’m already a wanted man–” Eddie cut you off and readjusted the ridiculous looking mask a bit. “–c’mon,” he said, tugging at your belt loop to get with it.

“I–that doesn’t mean you can just steal–”

“We’re way past that,” Dustin chimed in, shoving past you just like everyone else, “Besides, if the world’s gonna end anyway, what’s it matter?”

Shit. The kid had a point. It was probably fine. It was just a trailer. Maybe you could give it back afterward? You needed it more than they did. Right?

“Dammit,” you grumbled under your breath, now the only one still standing around. “Wait for me!”

❝ THEY TELL ME I’M HELL-BENT ON REVENGE, I CUT MY TEETH ON WEAKER MEN, I WON’T APOLOGIZE AGAIN ❞

The first time you ran into Steve Harrington was sophomore year. In the hallway before Click’s class. You were cramming everything into your bag, but struggling with your history book when you heard it coming.

Tommy Hagan’s stupid laugh.

Your stomach sank, eyes glued on your things and trying to ignore it. He was in your science class the year before along with his ditzy girlfriend Carol and they always made sure to get a spot in the back just to make out.

“Need some help?”

When you finally looked up at him he’d stopped right in front of you, the grin on his lips sharklike as Carol smirked out from under his arm. Another boy you didn’t know was standing just behind them wearing a stupid member’s only jacket, half unzipped, and had hair that sat perfectly in place. Too perfect.

“That looks heavy, hm?” Tommy said grabbing your book, voice all saccharine sweet and sharp around the edges. Flipping through the pages he pulled a face, clicked his tongue and weighed it in his hand, then made a show of dumping it on the floor. “Whoops. Sorry!” he half-laughed and your cheeks burned.

“Bite me, Hagan,” you snapped back, bending down to grab your book, and it only made his grin grow wider.

“Ooo. She’s fiesty today, Stevie. I like it.”

And then he chimed in. Stevie. The had-to-be-douchebag that everyone called 'King Steve.'

“Probably on her period,” he said scoffing a laugh, all confidence and bravado and the look on his face was so smug. Thought he was so clever and funny and when you finally turned around it was to take the two steps up to him in one.

“Really? My period? So original.”

It made him swallow hard. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he blinked back the flicker of surprise glinting in his eyes. He took a quick glance at Tommy like he didn’t want to disappoint him and then hardened his expression. Crowded down over you and nodded.

“Explains you being such a bitch.”

And it took the air from your lungs. Stuck in your sides sharp like a knife and you felt your throat tighten as Tommy and Carol snickered, but you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not here.

“Yeah. Bet you wish you had an excuse for being such an asshole,” you cut at him and it pulled an Oh shit! out of Tommy as he doubled over laughing, Steve’s mouth dropped open in shock.

Your feet couldn’t carry you away fast enough as you shoved your book in your bag and turned to leave, but you refused to run. Refused to let them see weakness, and as Tommy yelled down the hallway after you about tampons you raised a middle finger high in the air to punctuate just how much you hated them all.

Eddie met you in the bathroom after that, the one nobody used on the other side of school, and you told him everything. He let you have the joint he had tucked behind his ear for emergencies, listened to you and told you they weren’t worth it. Especially not Steve. Because even though Tommy started it, Steve was the one who dug in. Could have left it alone but didn’t and that was what really got you.

How obvious it was he knew how shitty they were being, but went along with it anyway because he had to maintain his status. Had to uphold how ‘cool’ he was and keep the line in the sand drawn between him and ‘the freaks’ like you.

So he wouldn’t get a second chance.

And he wasn’t worth your time.

Not then and sure as hell not now.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A THREE PART SERIES, PART TWO AND THREE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #because of you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[pearikp]

It's said that the only way to access Mhin's red choice is by choosing the Alchemist background, and that fact alone has me thinking about how the origin stories will actually impact the course of the game at full release. I wouldn't assume that you have to choose a certain origin to get a "good" or "bad" ending for a specific character, but (as stated by RSS directly) different origin stories will allow the main character to connect differently with each of the main five love interests.

Obviously, this isn't revolutionary, but I wanted to touch on which origins I think will be best suited for each route, based solely on scraps from the demo lol

For Kuras, I think the Alchemist and the Unnamed suit him the best. The former really comes from the fact that Ais' relationship chart suggests Kuras likes to ramble about alchemy, and because it has a lot to do with his role as a doctor, I would assume it opens up a lot of opportunities for him to connect with the Alchemist MC. I am more convinced of the latter based on the actual content of the demo. If you played the Unnamed origin, you may remember when the MC states that something about Kuras "nags" at them, "like a half-formed memory". This small line can obviously allude to Kuras not being human (and the Unnamed MC can pick up on it because of their sensitivity to the supernatural), or it could also imply that maybe this background gives the MC and Kuras a deeper sort of association with one another. I also encourage you to consider the dynamic of an excommunicated oracle in love with an excommunicated divine eldritch being.

It shocks no one that the Alchemist is probably the best route for Leander, and I maybe want to say the Hound could possibly be a good option in the future. The Alchemist can pinpoint exactly what about Leander's magic abilities makes him powerful, and obviously, this mutual connection will probably allow for plenty of unique interactions in his route. Sit on the fact that the MC had been mentored (manipulated) by an ex-Senobium mage, only to fall right back into the hands of another (pseudo-Senobium-affiliated) mage with sketchy intentions and big secrets... hmmm interestinggg... As for the Hound, I realize (admittedly upon limited playthroughs with this origin), that the dialogue never really changes for Leander's scenes. However, he is still an enigmatic socialite running a cult-gang, so surely the Hound will have some unique thoughts on Leander in his route and may eventually be able to see through this "nice guy" facade that Vere is so insistent he's parading around with? Just a thought.

As for my thoughts on Vere, I somehow have many and none at the same time. The one I'm pretty certain about is the Alchemist because they have unique dialogue acknowledging that Vere's collar is enchanted. I think the Hound may also work with his route, but I'm only basing that on the unique dialogue after the first encounter with Vere, wondering how he managed to pickpocket them without a sign, tell, or slip-up. The Hound has good social intuition, which is at least somewhat useful in dealing with Vere and his contradictory personality.

Ais comes naturally to the Unnamed, having an abundance of unique lines towards him more than the other characters. Not only does the Unnamed MC feel uneasy and hear unnatural sounds leading up to the Seaspring, but they also are the only one out of the three origins who has a distinct connection to "groupminds". The main character also notes that his tattoo (relating to Ocudeus) almost looks like it's moving. Similarly to Kuras, I like to think of the dynamic between a runaway ex-oracle crossing paths with a demonic being with cult-like worshipers... I predict the Hound will also suit Ais' route, based on how extensive their unique dialogue of Ais' natural leadership skills is. This origin is also the only one that actually details why his "gang leader" status contradicting the lack of an actual gang is so strange. The Hound comes from a more directly rugged life, and Ais takes an interest in the MC being feisty and defiant, so I'd guess that'll come into play somehow.

Back to square one on this whole overexplained talking point, Mhin obviously has some special connection to the Alchemist (or vice versa), if it wasn't obvious by the fact that Mhin's only red choice in the demo so far is only available with the Alchemist background. I think the Alchemist's unique connection to the Senobium through their mentor may come up, as Mhin's bio page says that they like the Senobium. The bio page also says they enjoy conducting alchemical experiments, which will connect the two even more. Once again, I think the Hound will also suit Mhin's route, based on little evidence and mostly just because Mhin and the Hound have similar vibes.

All of that said, I want to reiterate that I'm not under the impression that one origin will give you better or worse endings than the others, but rather unique choices and extra details based on their strengths. Regardless of how well one origin pairs with a LI, I will still probably be playing through each route with my own biased favorite (the Unnamed, if you were curious (I know you were not)). At the end of the day, it allows us to replay the game over and over to see what special changes and choices are available, so that will be very exciting.

#touchstarved game #touchstarved #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved leander #touchstarved vere #touchstarved ais #touchstarved mhin

[sixosix]

indebted | mikage reo

( ? ) reo spends money on someone who refuses to be indebted to anyone, FLUFF I SWEAR

( A/N ) why are my bllk fics literally about meeting again i think i have some strange obsession with this trope. ANW THIS FIC IS SOOO CLICHE but i think reo is cheesy like that

the sky is a pretty shade of blue, birds are chirping sweet songs from where they’re perched on branches, and cherry blossom leaves are floating along the wind; some are even pooling around his feet. love is in the air, one could say. pluck out every element you could see in a high school-inspired love song music video, and you’ll get precisely what reo is experiencing.

but none of those are what reo is looking at right now.

no, not when you’re standing before him, and his pulse is unsteady. 

“i like you,” you say. “i want to go out with you.”

reo’s eyes go round, spluttering syllables that are strung together hastily. he settles with a: “w-whuuu…”

the small group of students who decided to tag along with reo all gasped and ooh?. reo doesn’t know why he’s the one feeling mortified, heat crawling up across his cheeks.

you’re staring at him with a fierce expression, refusing to back down and shy away despite the crowd. it’s like you don’t care what they think or say so long as you get your words across. he honestly respects it.

reo scratches the back of his neck, guilty for some unfamiliar reason. he’s gently rejected countless others before, so he’s unsure why he’s so reluctant this time. maybe it’s because you’re looking at him like you know what you want, and it’s making him feel flustered in a way he hasn’t felt before.

“don’t just stand there, reo!” someone butts in, as if it’s his business. as if he’s confessing or being confessed to.

you and reo turn to glare venom at the guy, who shrinks under both your gazes.

reo’s gaze finds yours once again, trying for a comforting smile.

“i’m sorry. i can’t accept your confession,” he murmurs and winces at the feigned cries of the people around him. his heart pangs painfully in his chest when he sees your crestfallen expression. “i really am sorry!” and he is. “i bet you’re nice—“

you hold up a hand, a universal sign to shut the hell up, you’re making it worse, idiot. “it’s fine. you don’t have to say anything else aside from a ‘no’, reo-san.” the smile you give him is pretty painful. or is it painfully pretty? “thank you for your time.”

reo blinks when you swivel around. he feels incredibly horrible, to be frank.

reo watches you leave until you’re out of sight, only snapping out of it when nagi shoulders him to tune back into the laughter of his classmates, teasing him relentlessly about the confession.

“man, are you always this nice to your fans?” one of them snickers. “you’re sick for leading the l/n y/n on.”

reo frowns. “i’m not leading them on, i’m just trying not to be an ass to people who admire me, unlike some people.”

“oooh…”

reo sighs, leaning against nagi’s terrifyingly solid figure. “y/n, huh?” he mumbles.

the hallways are unusually empty today. reo is usually swarmed by students from his class or even others, especially during the hour of lunch break.

there seems to be an influx of students crowding downstairs, though, judging by the faint cheers he can hear all the way from the fourth floor.

someone passes him, brushing his forearm, and reo almost ignores it.

“oh, hi, reo-san!” the voice says, and it snaps him right out of his wondering.

reo blinks, doing a double take. “ah, y/n.”

you skid to a halt, facing him over your shoulder with a pleasantly surprised expression. “you know my name already?”

reo feels caught, somehow. he doesn’t know what to say, so he nods and smoothly switches subjects. “where are you runnin’ off to?”

you don’t move from where you’ve stopped, and reo feels the need to catch up, so he jogs like an obedient dog. the nearly terrifying grin you shoot him does little to cover your amusement. “you’ve been spacing out during class, top of the class? there’s a parade going on right now for the school festival, i’m heading down to watch.”

oh. so that’s where everyone went.

in reo’s defense, he went to the bathroom minutes before break—most likely when the teacher announced anything regarding a parade. and nagi is nowhere to be seen to inform him about it. knowing nagi, he’s hiding away on some random floor’s stairs to play games on his phones quietly.

reo nudges you with an elbow and realizes halfway through that he never asked if you’re even okay with him doing that. he clears his throat, “let me come with you, then.”

“c’mon, pretty boy.” you pick up the pace, and he could’ve tripped on air hearing that. “don’t make me miss out on the fun waiting for a snail like you.”

reo makes a show of scoffing, but he can’t hide the smile in his voice.

you both make your way downstairs, chatting idly all the while. it’s small talk—mindless, almost, but reo finds himself relaxing quickly in your presence like he didn’t just meet you yesterday. like you didn’t just ask him out, and he rejected you yesterday.

“ahh, the stalls are up already?” you frown, scanning the area and onto the line of students swarming the field. “i thought they wouldn’t be serving anything this early.”

“if it’s what you’re worried about, it’ll be my treat,” reo finds himself offering without thinking.

“will it, now?”

minutes later, you two find yourselves walking out of the line of stalls with bags of snacks and street foods (even trinkets you weren’t planning to buy but reo wanted you to have). it was all a blur. reo didn’t know he could start from roaming the hallways to having a nearly empty wallet with you by his side.

blinking incredulously at the heap of bags slung over your forearms, you say, “i’ll pay next time.”

reo shrugs, pleased with himself but trying so hard not to show it. “it’s fine.”

“what? no, it’s not fine. i’ll pay you back,” you say, stern. there is no room for dispute.

“it’s really no big deal…” and it’s not. he gets enough money to fill up his wallet easily once more. upon seeing your glare, he concedes. “fine, do what you want.”

your bright smile at that response makes him realize something about you.

reo is ashamed to say it, but ever since yesterday, he’s been noticing you more and more often.

it’s embarrassing to admit that he hasn’t paid attention before, but it’s even more embarrassing to realize that he keeps finding you everywhere—it’s almost incredulous to think that he has never met you earlier.

what’s worse is that reo is excited when he does catch sight of you.

images of your moment with him come to him in a flash, and he almost fucks it all up by approaching you out of nowhere—he could, but he doesn’t know what you still think of him after that. he, for one, would feel as if he’s being pitied when the person he confessed his feelings to starts coming up to him without any good reason.

that’s the thing: reo can’t think of a good reason.

“stop overthinking,” is all nagi says to reo’s mindless rambling of his current crisis (read: above). “you shouldn’t look too deep into it, idiot. if y/n can confess to you just because, then y/n can tell you to screw off if you make things weird.”

that is surprisingly a piece of very reasonable and thought-provoking advice.

“okay,” reo says. it makes sense.

he doesn’t have to do anything, though, because nagi looks up from his phone, sees something, and tells him reo can just text him what happens because he’s heading straight home.

“what? what? where are you going, nagi?”

“reo-san—” reo jumps in surprise, “—sorry, did i scare you? haha, that was cute!” he turns and sees you grinning up at him, impudent like you hear precisely what is going in his head.

“y/n,” he says, horrified to feel sudden warmth crawling up his cheeks. how do you keep doing that? “when did you…”

“are you free? i still have to pay you back, don’t i?”

he wants to say that if you feel like you owe something, you don’t, and reo doesn’t care about the money he spent on you, seeing how much fun you had yesterday. yet the excitement evident in your voice kills off the rebuttal on the tip of his tongue.

reo finds himself laughing, mostly out of disbelief. “alright.”

you beam, his expression softens, and the sunset is beautiful this afternoon.

“come on, i know this really good place,” you tell him, reaching for his hand like it’s natural. reo’s eye catches on the charm dangling on your bag. his heart does something weird when he realizes it’s what he picked out for you. “you mentioned you like ichibo steak yesterday, right? you’re in luck.”

reo should really get checked up. he’s been feeling incredibly warm lately.

you two decide to ride a taxi. reo texts nagi that he is out on a platonic—emphasized platonic, in bold, italic, and even underlined—date with you, as friends, and all because you felt guilty. the sticker nagi sends in return says he does not care.

along the way, you two fall into easy conversation once again. reo feels so relaxed that he doesn’t realize until later how wide his grin is. and when he does, it’s when he starts to notice everything else, too.

“it’s weird! i just passed them, and they gave me weird looks. i wanted to square up and ask, what? you wanna fight? i would beat them, no doubt,” you say, huffing. reo chuckles a little. at the sound, you pout. “what’re you laughing at? you don’t believe me?”

“of course i believe you.”

you grin. “that’s right.”

the car stops, and you pay for the ride before reo could even blink and lead him outside. your enthusiasm is endearing, reo has to admit. it feels like you actually like him and like being with him.

the gentle hold you have on him, the way your fingers are absentmindedly rubbing circles on his skin, the way his brain is melting out of his ears—when did he get so soft like this? it’s insane.

it probably means he is happy to have you as a friend, right?

in a seat for four people, reo pointedly decides to sit next to you because sitting across would make it look weird—it will feel like an actual date, and reo is not sure how he can handle the thought of that.

you don’t question it, and reo feels embarrassed to think you probably think he’s so strange that you don’t blink at it. instead, you tug him closer by the sleeve, pointing at his favorite food with sparkling eyes. it’s adorable. you’re so damn excited that it’s rubbing off on him.

reo’s mouth again runs off before his brain can catch up. “are you alright with us hanging out like this? after…”

you understand immediately. reo can’t quite see your expression properly because you’re leaning down to study the menu; however, your answer seems unfazed: “i don’t mind. i like you, don’t i? you already knew that, so that’s a silly question.”

you turn to him, smiling. “of course i’d like being with you, too.”

“ah.” reo’s face is on fire. “so… why did you even like me?”

“hm.” you make a motion of rubbing your index finger and thumb together. “money.”

reo eyes you with a scrunched nose, speechless.

you laugh brightly. “kidding! kidding! kind of.” reo nudges your knee with his as a warning. “okay, okay. i thought you’re cute, alright?”

“really?”

“really.”

it’s almost enough to make him forget how your face fell when he rejected you. almost.

is it normal to think about that so much?

(no. the answer is no, obviously. but reo doesn’t want to think about the reason why it’s a no.)

reo slouches against the seat, his arm brushing against your side. “oh.”

“that was so good,” reo groans. he burps inelegantly afterward, laughing along with you. “fuck, you were right. i’m coming back here again.”

you snort, waving your fork around. “i told you! i’m never wrong, don’t doubt me about anything ever again.” there’s sauce on the side of your mouth; reo brushes it off with his thumb without thinking, as if in a trance.

you pause, going still. you’re staring at him wide-eyed, flustered, and reo finds himself thinking that he likes that look on you.

he snaps out of it the second after, blushing profusely. “sorry, i don’t—” to save himself from explaining, he calls for the waiter for the bill instead. real smooth, reo. did it like a real rich kid.

“hey, wait, why are you paying?” you ask, frowning.

“you already paid for the ride earlier, remember? you don’t owe me anything right now, so let me pay.”

“reo—”

the waiter comes, reo scans the receipt quickly, and slips money in. he also tells them to keep the change, to which the waiter starts bowing and thanking him for, which probably means he paid them more than he’s supposed to.

you slump, bottom lip jutted out. “now i’m indebted to you again.”

reo grins. “i know.”

you become something else to him entirely. more than friends, though not quite lovers. tip-toeing lines, ready to risk it all, but never crossing over.

reo laments this to nagi, who he realizes suddenly becomes an expert.

“for someone who didn’t hesitate to reject y/n, you’re quick to regret it every day,” nagi remarks. “don’t be stupid, reo. the answer is right there— oh, i lost.” nagi is sad now, not that reo can see it because he’s having a crisis.

by the time reo realizes that what he feels for you is more than a simple crush, it’s far too late. he’s on the bus, your last message with him is a goodbye, and his life is flipped upside down.

TIMESKIP

reo sits alone on a bench in the middle of a public park, holding a popsicle and checking his watch occasionally. his knee bounces, impatient, but his last text will stay as: i’ll wait for you no matter how long.

he sighs, his head slowly tilting up to face the sky.

it’s as beautiful as he remembers it—the day he regrets more than anything. all that’s left is for birds to chirp and leaves to dance around his feet.

he had to reject his friends’ offer to go out, as it’s not often blue lock members are given off days. however, it’s a small price to pay if he gets to see you again.

“i’m here!”

reo nearly jolts in surprise, his whole body instinctively preening at the familiar melody of your voice. he turns, and his heart bursts.

it’s been so long. too long. yet every detail about you is still the same as he daydreams about when it gets a little too lonely: from your smile to the way you’re looking at him with overwhelming fondness. there’s no mistaking it—the happiness tickling his chest says more than words could.

he is so fucking in love.

you stand there, a little nervous and hesitant like you’re ready to run with one wrong move.

so reo won’t fuck this up. not anymore or ever.

“y/n,” he breathes, tugging you by the arm to pull you closer. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too,” you say, melting in his grasp. “i didn’t think you’d— i didn’t expect you to still want to see me after high school.”

“don’t be stupid,” he chides, gently flicking your forehead. “of course i’d want to see you.” your gaze shifts to the plastic he’s holding in his other hand, and he almost smacks his face for forgetting. “right, here. i bought you ice cream because it’s a bit hot today. thought you’d like it.”

“so thoughtful,” you coo, poking his cheek before gratefully taking the popsicle from him.

he pats the vacant spot next to him. it took all his willpower and rationality to not gesture his lap.

“um,” you fidget, tongue darting out quickly to lick on the icy treat. reo is not getting distracted, he’s not. “what was the question you said you wanted to ask? that text almost made me want to chuck my phone across the room, you know? we haven’t talked for months, and that’s the first thing you send me.”

“sorry,” reo can’t help but chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “i just want to do this before i regret anything again.”

“you have regrets with me?” you frown, hurt.

reo nods, and fuck it, reaches out to cup your chin. there’s a smidge of melted ice cream; he swipes it away with a thumb. “the day we met,” he says distractedly.

there’s a moment where you can only look at him incredulously, a little offended. but understanding dawns on your face soon after. “that was the day i confessed.”

he nods, proud. “you’re still indebted to me, aren’t you?”

“yes? you made sure you were the last one to pay for anything when you won me that plushie at the arcade a week before you left,” you recall fondly.

“alright, then.” reo takes your free hand to pull you closer to him, stunning you to silence. the popsicle starts melting at the sides—it could be from the heat or from how intense reo is staring at you. “pay me back by going out with me. as your boyfriend.”

THIS IS SO RUSHED I KNOWWW but take it and appreciate it please i dont even kno where the reo brainworms came from

#606:BLLK #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage x you #x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo imagines #mikage reo fluff #bllk fanfic #blue lock fluff

[amorganva]

More Lies of P stuff I thought was interesting that I found:

First off, Romeo sits pretty comfy inside his Gundam

Second, remember to not use Thermite Grenades on people ;)

Eugenie really likes cats, there's like 10 models of just cats that she whittles but also some cute dogs

I also never really noticed a pattern on her shirt, it's such a nice little detail, dead Eugenie also seems to wear a workshop union necklace but with the shape of a sun (I think).

Answer the phone promptly <3

A hat case with initials F.B.T, Lyrick Pub (perhaps a reference to Lyric Soho - a victorian pub), Round8Studio envteam sign,

all of the stops at the train station with times of departure and number....I wonder if there's hidden meaning to them. I was thinking dates but of what I don't know since Pinocchio was released Feb 1881

Ergo is my new life motto, I didn't translate it until now but "I will find a way or make one" is pretty dope.

"He will find a way or make it"

U.S. Mailbox in a French coastal city. An interesting chair I don't think I've seen around.

Some ergo shenanigans I don't think I've seen.

We've seen the clown models of the parade around except some of them like the female unicycle one....let's go to the Land of Toys. Ask to Wind - An unreleased Record....maybe in the DLC?

Lastly I hope we can see Krat before the revolution someday because a lot and I mean A LOT of the weapons and signs and uniforms have so many fish on them. The good old days.

#lies of p #neowiz #easter eggs

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {9}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando risks upsetting the FIA to give you the memorial they denied a year ago. Warnings: 18+ only, alcohol, fluff, tearful Lando 🥺 WC: 2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

“Ride with us!”

You frowned down at Lando’s grinning face from the balcony above the garage thinking you had heard him wrong. “What?”

He pointed to the grid where the trailer for the parade was hooked up and waiting. “You too, maman.”

Maria squeezed your arm with a smile as she turned towards the stairs. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Lando met you at the bottom, his arm curling around your waist as he guided you to the gate at the back while Zak walked with Maria. His lips brushed your cheek as he dipped his head to whisper, “Think something’s going on with those two?”

You smiled at the sound of Maria’s laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know, but as long as she’s happy then it’s got to be a good thing.”

Lando’s hands gripped your waist and lifted you into the back of the trailer before he leapt up to join you. It was only once you had taken hold of the rail tightly that you spared a glance around the other drivers and noticed they all carried wreaths.

“What’s that?”

Lando shrugged shyly as he stepped in behind you, one hand holding the rail with you and the other waving to the crowd. “Since you missed the memorial at home I thought maybe we could have one of our own.”

You turned away from the crowd and he dropped his waving hand to cage you between his arms as the truck began to drive down off the grid, saving you from jostling at the sudden movement.

“Won’t the FIA have a problem with that?”

“What can they do? Penalise all of us?” he laughed. “And if it’s a fine, we’re happy to pay it.”

“They’ll blame you.”

“They’ve made so many wrong conclusions, but at least they would be right this time,” he joked. “Relax, love, it’ll be fine.”

Lando went back to waving to the fans and you smiled at the ones who held up signs for René, most of them orange hearts or the French flag with his driver number in the middle. 

It wasn’t long that the smooth ride slowed and the trailer came to a stop at the barrier that had long since been replaced but you still saw the mangled metal and oil slick in your mind's eye. 

You startled a little when Lando’s hand came to rest on yours and gently pulled it free of the rail. You shook your head to clear the image and the sounds of the track returned along with Lando’s calm voice as he murmured encouraging words in your ear. 

You focused on his voice as he jumped off the back of the trailer before offering his hands to catch you next. Already the other drivers had made their way off track and were placing the bouquets and wreaths along the barrier. Some whispered quiet prayers and signed the cross, while others took a moment to reflect in silence.

You drifted over to the barrier with Lando at your side and sank to your knees in the soft grass running your fingers through the blades, waiting for the crushing weight to settle into your chest. The seconds ticked by as the wind picked up, the breeze a cooling welcome touch to your skin, but still the pain never came. There was only the permanent sense of sadness that hung like a small cloud in the sky no matter how sunny the day was.

“I miss you,” you whispered as you plucked a single red rose from the bouquet Lando held. Its sweet scent reminded you of the garden you had planted with René at home and the thorns dug into your palm as your hand tightened around the stem before you laid it among the rest. “You should see your fans. There’s so much love for you here, I can feel it all around me. Your mum was right.”

The drivers started to make their way back to the trailer and Lando pressed a kiss to your forehead. “When I was waiting beside him at the altar he made me promise if anything happened to him that I would take care of you. I never got to say the words to him because the doors opened and you walked in looking like an absolute angel,” his voice was thick with emotion and he cleared his throat before placing his bouquet with the others. “You have my word, René, I swear on my life.”

He grabbed the sunglasses tucked into the collar of his hoodie, pushing them over his red eyes and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he buried his head in your neck. 

“He knows, babe,” you murmured as you rubbed his back until the small shudders of his silent sobs eased, being his strength for once. Neither of you acknowledge the damp marks on your shoulder, neither of you said a word as he looked at the flowers once more before heading back to the trailer. 

“Take as long as you need, love,” he said quietly as he went.

You stood alone absorbing the moment, basking in the love that was surrounding you as you touched the cold metal barrier and looked back at Lando to see Maria placing her hand on his shoulder with a small smile. “Watch over him, Ren. Please keep him safe, for me.”

You were drunk, and so was Lando. There was no other way to put it. Finishing third had not been expected after the car’s performance in qualifying but, by luck or miracle, the conditions had been perfect for him to set a fast pace and move up the grid. So, needless to say, you were celebrating the hell out of the accomplishment with Lando in a packed nightclub full of his supporters and team.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!” The smile hadn’t left your face since he passed the chequered flag but with all the alcohol in your system you couldn’t feel the ache of the muscles in your cheeks. You cupped his face and traced his dimples with your thumbs before kissing him and getting lost in the spur of the moment.

“I love you and I am so lucky to have you.” There was no stopping the words flowing from your mouth, you were too excited for him since it had been a while since his last podium. The pressure from his Principle to get more points could finally ease a little and he was already looking more relaxed. “I think I drank too much, the room's kind of spinning.”

Lando’s laugh was contagious as he took the glass of champagne from your hand and finished it for you with a suggestion to dance instead. It took far longer than expected to make it through the crowd to the dance floor with everyone wanting to stop and congratulate him but you were happy to take it slow seeing how happy it made him.

He eventually extracted himself from the crowd and caught up to where you had found yourself under the lights and amongst the swell of people dancing the night away. His fingers laced with yours as he drew your hands up his body before he draped them around his neck and he pulled you closer.

You didn’t even notice the hundreds of people around you when Lando started moving against you. There was nothing but him and the music that his hips moved to, and the sound of his voice as he brushed his lips below your ear.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful, love.” The song changed and you turned in Lando’s arms deciding to tease him back as you danced against him, rolling your hips to the sensual music. His hands tightened their grip, his fingers digging into your hips where they had come to rest. “We need to leave before I do something very naughty right here in front of all these people.”

You peeked over your shoulder to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his glazed eyes full of promise. “But this is your party.”

“So I can do what I want, and I want you.” He kissed the space where your shoulder met your neck. “You’re driving me crazy.”

You stepped out of his touch, immediately missing the warmth of his body against your back, and took his hand. A grin grew on his face when you tugged him forward and he was quick to overtake you on the way to the door, separating the crowd and keeping you tucked in behind his body like a shield.

The cool air of the night hit your lungs and a shiver rolled down your spine at the sudden drop in temperature until Lando pulled you closer and waved for a taxi. It was hardly worth putting the seat belt on for how far down the road the car was going to take you but after Lando had opened the door for you he had walked around the car and taken his seat he had tutted after seeing the belt buckle empty.

“Not on my watch, love,” he said as he reached over you and grabbed the belt. “I need you safe and sound.”

Your lips pressed into a line when you tried to hide your amusement at his protectiveness. “Yes, daddy.”

His eyes flashed to yours and he curled an eyebrow up before he started biting his bottom lip again. “What did you say?”

The taxi pulled into the hotel entrance and you didn’t wait for Lando to come and open your door. You were already walking to the room as fast as your high heels would allow while he rushed to pay for the fare.

You could hear him racing to catch up when you turned down the hall that your suite was on. A squeak escaped before you could silence it when he caught up and pinned you to the door with his body, his lips stealing the soft moan that followed.

“What. Did. You. Say?” he enunciated between each kiss as he swiped his card over the handle and opened the door.

You almost fell backwards as it suddenly swung open but Lando’s arm curled around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Your lips parted with a heady sigh as you felt his hard length begging to be freed from his jeans but he smirked and shook his head when you tried to reach for him.

“Uh-uh, I’m still waiting,” he tutted as he walked you backwards into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. “I want to hear that little quip again, love.”

You teased him with a smile as you reached behind your back for the zip that kept your dress on. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to be a father.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he chuckled as he moved your hand and dragged the zip slowly down your spine. “But with you it wouldn’t be so bad.” 

“Wouldn’t be so bad?” you repeated with a cocked eyebrow and a playful smile. “I understand the ‘no rizz Norris’ now.”

The material slipped down your body and you felt Lando’s exhale warm across your neck before he kissed your racing pulse. “Do you want me to tell you how much I would love to settle down with you, start a family and grow old with you? Because I will. I want it all. With. You.”

You tilted your head to give him more access as his words and the alcohol made your head spin. All of the futures you had once thought would be with René had died with him, but they came crashing back with Lando and you could see it playing out in your head. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

He smirked as his hands trailed down your body before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he made his way to the bedroom. “When you called me daddy.”

Click here for part ten.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[merakiui]

Thinking about soft non con with the tweels... maybe you yawned in front of them or something and they get really excited about it

Omg omg omg what if they were your childhood bullies??? OTL I am so weak for the trope of childhood bully who tormented darling in their childhood and then they both grow up and suddenly they love darling even more now because darling has grown so pretty. <3

Tweels come back to visit for the spring break and it's a tradition of theirs to track you down and pay you a little visit. :) they always find you, no matter how well you may hide or camouflage yourself. It's been a while since they've last seen you. In fact, they haven't stayed true to their annual tradition because learning how to survive on land occupied most of their energy, time, and thoughts. Due to that, you were spared the headache for the year. But now they're back in their home, feeling so relieved to finally get back into the water in their true forms, and as they're checking on their old haunts you pop into their brains. The twins aren't telepathic by any means, but sometimes you might think they are when they're always running on the same brain cell. Naturally, they have to find you.

And they do! And oh aren't you just the prettiest thing? You're glowing with the addictive allure brought on by spring mating cycles. Soon you'll likely go off into some secretive nook, hole yourself away for however long your cycle lasts, and get rid of all of the unfertilized eggs you've undoubtedly made in preparation of the mating season. You've grown a considerable amount, but you're still nowhere near as strong or big as them. <3 they circle you in the water, all sharp-toothed grins. Floyd drapes himself on you lazily, complaining about how it was no fair that you didn't come to visit, how he missed being able to tease and squeeze his favorite Shrimpy. Though Jade isn't as verbally direct as his brother, his eyes are scanning you, most definitely noting all of the subtle physical signs many mers exhibit when they're on the cusp of their cycle. You're too cute, parading yourself around like this. Were you hoping they'd come find you and take care of you?

It's obvious you're averse to them, attempting to keep this conversation as short as possible. But the twins pay it no mind. They have to make up for the lost time, so why not spend the afternoon catching up with them? Show them around a bit, won't you? Take them to your favorite places! They'll gladly follow your lead, but then you have no choice because even if you swim away with the intention of leaving they're just going to pursue.

Floyd asks if you're still so hung up on all those years they bullied you. Maybe that's why you seem like a prey shaken to the core after nearly evading a predator's vicious maw. Of course you'd be hung up on that! They made your life miserable. If Floyd wasn't pestering you for a few of your scales and if Jade wasn't trailing you like an innocent guppy (which is very false; behind that guppy veneer was a cruel bully), then they were both intimidating you into giving up things. Whenever birthdays rolled around, you were the first on their list. They'd swim up to you, entirely casual, and slyly mention how it was their birthday and even if they didn't directly state it you knew their expectant stares told you they wanted something. You'd lost all sorts of things to them: spoils from exploring shipwrecks, your own allowance, jewelry, pretty stones, your scales, and even your first kiss (which Floyd had taken rather roughly after another bully had shoved you and he'd gotten monstrously territorial. Supposedly, only he and Jade are allowed to torment you. Why he felt the need to kiss you to prove his dominance, you have no clue, but he did and you still haven't forgiven him for it).

So you hate their leering when they follow you, flanking you like twin parasites. Floyd fills the tense silence with his own chatter and Jade occasionally makes his own comments or responds to some of Floyd's ramblings. Their eyes stick to you like barnacles; you hate it. You always feel so small and powerless with them around. Having to balance a duo like this is so draining, so it's only natural you'd get tired. You're yawning a lot, and stress and anxiety aren't helping. It also doesn't help that your cycle is nearing and so you've become even more jittery since. The twins are staring at your mouth, at every little opening and closing of it, and at some point Floyd can't take it anymore. He grips your jaw, wraps himself around you to keep you still, and mumbles about how it's not very nice of Shrimpy to be such a tease during spring. Don't you know how special this season is? You do because you're a mer, so obviously you must have wanted this. Why else would you take them to such a quiet, desolate cave?

The twins know very well you're just tired, but that doesn't stop them from crafting their own narrative, which they speak about so freely.

"Someone's rather eager, wouldn't you agree, Floyd?"

He nods, his tone spotted with giggles. "Seems Shrimpy couldn't wait for us to get back. Was it tough havin' to carry so many eggs? Ya better get used to it because you'll only get heavier!"

Perhaps you could have evaded one of them, but two is a deadly combination. And though they're both so strong, they're incredibly gentle with handling you. But then you're too frightened to oppose them and put up a fight, and Jade and Floyd don't want to risk injuring you or the eggs. They're not entirely mean! :( they love you and want to be sweet and affectionate with you. So when they exchange kisses with you, taking turns rutting into you and filling you with lots of slick and cum, it's always gently. Floyd cradles your belly, clawed, webbed hands tracing the loveliest patterns into it. He's cooing about how pretty his Shrimpy is, how he loves you so, so, so sosososo much, how he wants to bring you back to meet his Mama and Pops. Jade keeps you coiled in a comforting embrace, pressing sweet, soft, fleeting kisses to your shoulders, neck, collarbone, chest. He whispers filth and sweetness in your ears, shushing you when you cry and uttering the softest assurances and praises. It'll be okay; he's here. He's not going anywhere. Look only at him. You'll be fine. You're doing so well. He knows it's unbearable, so let him take care of you. You don't have to spend this season alone. He and Floyd are here for you. <3

You're not sure if you spend hours or days in that cave. If you aren't sleeping and eating the things Floyd's hunted, dragged in, or collected, then you're being filled all over again by the both of them. The twins have always taken lots of things from you, and like the greedy eels they are they took your first time and fertilized your first clutch. >_< if it's any consolation, they help you back to their home, praising you for being so good for them and proudly showing you off to their parents, who are oh-so-happy their beloved boys found a mate. When you're not so full and sex-brained, they'll properly introduce you and save you a seat at the dinner table. You're going to be part of the Leech family from now on, so you'll be seeing more of Jade and Floyd. And unfortunately it won't be once a year.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: noncon #yandere twst #forgive me for rambling orz #i saw soft noncon and tweels in the same sentence and i had to discuss it #also i wanted to ramble shamelessly about mer smut ^^;;;;;

[esamastation]

Part forty-seven of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six

-

You want to be a hero.

You grow up with news that, unbeknownst to your young self, are completely controlled by Shinra, publicising Shinra propaganda, showing scenes of a war that's been going on for longer than you've known how to read. Everyone knows what the war is really about and everyone talks about it, but their tone is defeatist. There's nothing anyone can do about it. It's Shinra. Shinra will do as it likes. Ultimately, few people in your little backwater town really care.

But you don't really understand. You've seen the pictures - the parades, the speeches, the tech showcases. Tanks and trucks and planes and helicopters and the great airships. Shinra technology is already like magic to you - but they also make magic, they make Materia! 

And they make SOLDIER.

The SOLDIERs are in the papers a lot. Sephiroth is in the papers a lot.

They call him a hero. The Hero of Shinra, the Hero of Wutai. Your mother reads you the article about him saving a squad of infantry troopers all by himself, how he'd taken a town just with his sword, how a great general surrendered to Sephiroth personally. There is a magazine every other week with Sephiroth on the front page.

Everyone is in awe of Sephiroth. All the kids in the school talk about how cool he is. They trade pictures of him like they're old-fashioned reading cards - until Shinra actually starts making SOLDIER trading cards. Everyone wants the holographic one of Sephiroth with Masamune.

Everyone wants to be like Sephiroth.

They talk about SOLDIERs. How they're superhuman. How Shinra puts magic into their veins, making them like the Ancients of myth and legend - but better! Because SOLDIERs can't just do magic - they're also really strong and really fast, and nothing can stand in their way! SOLDIERs are the best of the best! Their eyes glow and they can lift cars and fight dragons, and just being a SOLDIER means you're a hero.

Because heroes are people in the news, making headlines and having their pictures taken. 

And you want to be a hero.

You want to be respected and acknowledged and feared. You want to know that there's nobody out there who can push you around. You want to make it into the newspapers, you want to be the one they write and talk about. You want to be the person they look up to and say, "Wow, I wanna be like them."

So you look into it. How do people become SOLDIER? They go to Midgar, they enter the SOLDIER candidate trials. There are tests, though no one knows for sure what they are. If you pass them, there's some kind of special surgery, and then…then you're in. And they make you into a SOLDIER.

And you're a hero for the rest of your life.

So you leave home. You make it all the way across the Planet and to Midgar. You sleep in an inn that costs too much, and you go to Shinra Building, and you ask the ladies at the reception, "How do I apply for the SOLDIER candidate trials?"

They laugh, and they give you a form to fill, which you pretend to read, but you don't, really, you're too excited. You sign everything, and they tell you, "Come back in two weeks, that's when the trials start." 

In two weeks you use up all your savings and see the best Midgar has to offer, and you're sick with nerves and starting to worry, and you know you should call your mom, but you can't, not until you have good news. You're really starting to be nervous, but then, finally, it's time. 

You head to the Shinra Building. You see the lobby is full of kids just like you, all nervous and sick and excited, and, you can't help noticing, so much bigger than you. Maybe older than you. SOLDIER candidate trials don't have an age limit, but you're worried you might be the youngest one there.

You don't talk to anybody. You're worried you'll throw up, you're so anxious.

A doctor welcomes you all into the SOLDIER candidate trials. He explains: there are several steps to becoming a SOLDIER, and the very first of it is the Mako reactivity test, and that there's no point in telling you about the rest unless you pass it. After all, you can't become a SOLDIER at all if you can't handle Mako! Everyone laughs, nervously. Your forced chuckle sounds like a wheeze. You wish you'd gone to the bathroom before it all started.

They divide the candidates into groups of twelve, and you're in group 8. Each group is assigned a lab, and a man in a lab coat tells you to follow. You take the elevator up. One of the other candidates looks at you and snorts. You're the shortest in the group.

You feel yourself blush, but say nothing.

Your group is ushered into a lab and lined up by size. The tech pulls up a trolley with twelve syringes and a number of swabs. You're the last in line - the biggest goes first.

You watch each glowing green injection closely - you see every reaction.

The first candidate goes pale and begins to sweat. He's told to sit down.

The second candidate doesn't react at all. He's told to sit down.

Third breaks out into red bumps all over his arm and is quickly given another injection. He's the first one to fail.

Fourth candidate reacts like the first and sits down.

Fifth passes out - he's the second one to fail.

Sixth doesn't react and is told to sit down…

Until finally it's your turn.

You watch the needle go in. It hurts. It feels weird, when the lab technician begins pushing the glowing green liquid in. You can't figure out how it feels. It just feels like a lot.

You feel pressure, inside yourself and in your head and all around you. You feel like you're being squeezed from inside out. You feel like you're suddenly very heavy, and yet you also feel light as a feather. The lights in the lab suddenly seem to glow blindingly bright.

You're drenched in sweat.

The lab technician tells you to sit down.

You pass the test - the eight of twelve. Of the four that failed, two have to be rolled out in wheelchairs. Of the eight that passed, two have thrown up.

They tell you you have higher Mako reactivity than is really desired in the program. There's a good chance you - along with numbers one, four and nine who reacted like you did - wouldn't pass the follow-up tests. You're told to not get your hopes up - but also that you shouldn't let that get you down.

"There's another program running right now," they tell you, cheerfully. "They're looking for volunteers for a new type of SOLDIER treatments! You might be a perfect fit for it!"

You don't understand. The pressure inside your head is turning into a headache. You try to reply cheerfully and probably fail.

The next stage of testing would be in a week. They tell you to be back then and send you off.

You're not sure what you're going to do. You've run out of money and can't stay at the inn anymore. You have nowhere to stay and you know no one in Midgar. Your head is starting to really hurt, and the injection site is inflamed. You don't know what you're going to do for another week. The pressure inside your head feels permanent.

You think you might've messed up, bad.

But you still want to be a hero.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #ff7

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 2)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1

By the time they arrive at the Capitol, Katniss and Peeta are whisked off to be prepped for the tribute parade.

Y/N is already dressed to the nines, they are here to work after all. Haymitch has begrudgingly squeezed into a pantsuit to match and they’re off to talk up the night’s festivities.

Y/N drags him by the hand as they’re rushed through the streets, bustling with excitement.

“Come, come.” Their escort insists. “Five minutes to curtain.”

“Can’t wait.” Haymitch grumbles, a little hung over. His wife flicks at lint on his shoulder pads, allowing him to take a few sips from his flask as they wait in the wings. Fussing over his hair. “It’s fine,” he’s not like her. Nobody is expecting him to be perfectly put together.

“Remember, we’re happy, we’re grateful, we’re in love.” Sounds an awful lot like the pep talks he used to give her. As if somehow, over the years, they’ve switched places.

“Are we not in love?” Haymitch slurs, cocking his head to the side.

Y/N sighs, “of course we are.” Maybe not the way they were in the beginning. Gone are stolen kisses and frenzied hands; given way to comfort and familiarity.

Flickerman’s music plays, the show has started. As the crowd settles back into their seats, Caesar makes his announcement. “Tonight, we will be joined by two very special guests before the tribute parade.”

The audience squeals with excitement. They get to see her.

Y/N rose to fame because Haymitch pushed her there; she was the first sign of hope he’d seen in a long time. But she remains at the top because Snow allows her to; Y/N is everything he dreamed a victor would be. Someone to rally and unite the people with a story of gratitude and love for the nation.

“Y/N and Haymitch Abernathy,” Caesar smiles, standing at the front of his chair.

That’s their queue. Walk out, smile, wave.

The crowd howls, erupting into applause. Stealing the air from Y/N’s lungs, though no one besides her husband could know that. They greet Caesar in turn. Y/N with a hug; the show host vibrating with delight. Haymitch is a hand shake and a pat on the back.

“Welcome, welcome. Thank you for joining us.”

“Thank you for having us,” Y/N takes her assigned seat on the couch after Haymitch plops down.

“Tell us, how are things?” Caesar crosses one leg over the other. “How are the children? It’s been so long since we’ve seen you.”

Not long enough.

“Kids are great,” Haymitch tells him, “brought some pictures for you.” He fishes around in his pocket for a moment before leaning over Y/N to deliver them.

“Oh my,” Caesar cries, “our babies.” He turns the photos out to the crowd, giving the film crew a chance to tighten the shot. “Where are our babies?”

The people let out a collective coo.

“They’re growing up,” Y/N nods.

“You can say that again. Where has all the time gone?”

“I don’t know Caesar, you haven’t aged a day.”

“Ahh,” he clutches a hand to his heart. “You flatter, my girl. Now, I have to ask what we’re all dying to know…”

Haymitch moves to the edge of his seat, feigning anticipation.

“Do you plan on having more children?” Caesar leans in.

Y/N turns to her husband, making a show of whispering in his ear.

Haymitch smirks, nodding suggestively toward the curtains offstage.

“Haymitch, you dog!” Caesar fans himself at the implication.

“It sounded like an invitation,” he shrugs. Quite pleased with himself as people begin cheering. There will be no more children. Not if they have any say in it.

————————————————————————

“I have never seen a more beautiful gown.” The Capitol woman, seated aside of Y/N for the parade, gawks openly at the floor length midnight blue show stopper.

“This?” Y/N looks down at herself. “Doesn’t hold a candle to your outfit. I have half a mind to be jealous.”

Before the chariots are sent out is the perfect time to fish for sponsors. Lay the bait, then once they see the tributes, reel them in.

“Vanity has become quite the talk around here. Everyone loved your reaping dress, we always love your dresses.”

Apparently there is a slew of outfits for a victory tour, assuming one of her tributes ever make it that far.

“Darling, let Y/N breathe.” The woman’s husband cuts in. “Forgive her, she does get overly excited.”

“It’s more than fine,” Y/N reaches a hand out to shake his, “good to meet you both.”

Haymitch watches, giving the man a good old nod and smile when they make eye contact.

The presence of victors is addictive to these people. No matter how much they give, the Capitol demands more. Snow sells it for a price, sells them for a price.

Y/N wants out, she wants freedom. Haymitch keeps her sane, keeps her happy within the confines of their birdcage. They aren’t the only ones. People are angry, desperate for reform. Panem is on the precipice of a revolution, Snow can feel it too. So he digs his claws in a bit deeper.

Soon as the anthem begins to play, all eyes are on the tributes.

District twelve is last, they probably have them dressed as miners again. Ever since Vanity left her post as stylist for the games, the outfits have gone downhill.

This new stylist, Cinna, comes with raving reviews. Still Y/N is surprised to see Peeta and Katniss emerge…on fire?

“Oh my goodness!”

“Look at them!”

“That’s amazing!”

The crowd goes wild, rising from their seats for a closer look. Haymitch huffs a laugh, proud to be their mentor, even though he’ll never admit it.

Katniss won him over during breakfast on the train when she stabbed his placemat. She is a fighter, fighters have a chance if sponsors like them.

When their tributes join hands and hold them high in the air, people eat it up. So far, things are looking better for Katniss and Peeta than any tributes before. The ones Haymitch can’t put names to, the faces that come unbidden in his dreams.

————————————————————————

“Each district gets their own floor.” Effie claps her hands together as she informs the tributes. “Since you’re from twelve, you get the penthouse.”

Katniss side eyes Y/N. Is she serious?

Y/N shoots her a reassuring grin when Katniss freezes at the entrance to the elevator.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Haymitch demands, at this rate he’ll be holding the door open all night.

Katniss swallows, stepping in aside Peeta. Even with Effie, Portia, Cinna and their mentors, the space is not cramped. She wonders idly how many other people could fit.

When they reach the top floor Effie scurries out. “Here it is!”

This time Peeta stalls.

“Come on.” Y/N puts a hand to his back, nodding to the foyer.

Peeta snaps his mouth shut, following after his stylist. It is a bit overwhelming, Y/N remembers. Though the novelty wears off in time.

Effie shows the kids to their rooms. The mentors know theirs well.

“Unzip,” Y/N pleads, the moment they are alone, in the privacy of their suite.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Haymitch chortles. Turning her away to open the gown, allowing it to pool at her feet.

She kicks it away, removing her jewelry and opting for a shower before dinner. When the water runs clear she towels off, feeling like herself again or something close to it.

Tomorrow they train.

Part 3

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch fanfic #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #hunger games fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #effie trinket #the hunger games

[kenandeliza]

A Marvel Family Fantasy AU

A few days ago, I randomly dreamt of Drawing Billy and Tawny in a fantasy setting.

Billy was this kid wizard and Tawny was his companion (or an animal to ride on like a horse)

Then it got me thinking, maybe in this setting, Mary could be someone of high status in this fantasy setting (since she's in a rich family in the golden age comics)

I'm inclined to think Freddy would be a captain of a ship for irony-sake but I have a feeling pirates and fantasy settings don't match well?

It's just funny for me to think of him with a peg leg xD

After further discussion with @the-brash-spud :

Warning: Too many text :>

These are the ideas we have so far (if there are quotation marks, those ideas belonged to @the-brash-spud ):

—

Maybe Billy and Mary were prince and princess separated by birth, (i'm not sure if its a kidnapping or the baby got lost on his own) but the wizard founded billy and trained him.

At the ripe age of (insert young age below a teenager's), The wizard decided to grant him the power of shazam to turn him into the world's mightiest Wizard!

Captain Marvel!

Wizard dies and then Billy and Tawny have adventures together, maybe helping people along the way (maybe somehow found out that Mary is his sister :p idk)

“ I think you could go angst if you made the wizard get brutally hurt in a battle to protect Billy and the rock of eternity so in a last ditch effort he transports the rock to its own pocket of existence and then giving Billy powers of shazam because its as ready as he'll be able to make the kid :) and it's his last effort for Billy to be protected even if he has to do so himself because he has failed :)) made Billy cry as Wizard turns into dust in Billy’s hands :)))”

—

Uncle marvel can be a con-man/thief who took pity on Billy or realiz, teaching Billy that the world isn't always honest and he's like, "Billy, don't always give money to the poor on the streets, sometimes they faked their illness to be lazy”

" Billy: "The man in the shadowy corner needs my help."

Uncle: "No, the hell he doesn't!”"

—-

How Billy Met Freddy

Billy probably met Freddy in a bar fight. How did the kid get into a bar?

Billy looked at the man exiting the pub with a bottle.

Billy: Ohh! So this is where you get refreshments here! I wonder If they have enough Milk for Tawny..

Pub sign written NO KIDS ALLOWED!"

*Billy can only read magic scrolls and not regular alphabet*

Cue him meeting Freddy (who's armwrestling with one of the people there)

(Insert Bar fight for some reason because The child decided to drink a white cocktail thinking it was milk and the fact that Billy is a Kid)

“Freddie is definitely that kid having his ass thrown out of the bar/pub/inn”

I'd like to think he and his brother are a team, prolly sailed a ship together.

“Yes, they target slave ships. Unless you wanna go different routes. Then, he is focused on certain nations' flags that have a whole lot of red in them

Also, he goes to the bars just to start bar fights over drunks being mean/nasty to the landlady. The landlady doesn't appreciate it bc now she has a broken table and four broken chairs”

Freddy faces the Captain Nazi equivalent of a pirate [Captain Arian? Like Aryan?] XD, Freddy lost his leg the same way, from his encounter with Captain Arian.

Kit (probably a necromancer or a ghost who's cursed to be bound in the ship Freddy's in, making Freddy more attached to the ship) can still summon crewmembers.

Maybe they both meet mary during the birthday ceremony parade

Maybe Mary snuck off from her family (disguise herself as a regular girl, i know, generic plot) and then meet Billy accidentally

Billy: It's my birthday today!

Mary: What a coincidence! It's mine too!

The-brash-spud: “Billy, in his innocence, thinks ,"There must be something to us sharing birthdays!" While Freddy calls him stupid, Billy tries to get a look at the princes and then cue the lung-fu panda rocket incident, but maybe something else more fitting with Freddy being pulled along”

On an unrelated note, i think Billy knew about Freddy's peg legafter either a pirate slashed it clean and Freddy just used it to bonk his head.

Billy is still screaming from the shock and immediately casted healing spells (i'd like to think everything about billy is lightning based- so yes getting struck by lightning is a healing spell for him :D) Freddy got shocked lmao

And what about boarding Tawny on the ship?

Billy:"Please???"

Freddy: "I'm not letting a tiger into my ship."

Kit who absolutely adores animals: "YES"

Freddy:"NO!”

Kit:" Does he love belly rubs??"

Billy:" yes but you have to ask him politely for his permission-”

Freddy rolled his eyes, realizing he has to clean cat fur everyday off from the furnitures.

___

How did Mary, a royalty tag along with a kid wizard and a pirate?

“Yeah, I guess forced separation would work better. Hell, go with a scenario that will allow them to have Mary with the parents' blessings as long as she's kept safe (she isn't, but that's because she is the danger herself)”

Mary and Billy: "Yay adventure"

Freddy: "Oh great, now I have to take care of two kids and a tiger in my ship!?"

*Freddy looking at Kit and the kids + a tiger playing together, kit seems happy*

Freddy: "...i guess it's alright..”

___

How Freddy and Mary found out about the wizard?

“Hmmmm, maybe Billy takes them to the rock because they were in a pickle, and unforeseen effects happen?

They got surrounded maybe?

Also I can see the aftermath

"You were raised by THE Wizard!? THE Wizard?! A Wizard of legends so often told he is recognisable even if his name was lost?!"

"Oh, his name is Shazam-" *BANG*”

____

Hopefully i could draw these AU ideas, I don't plan on making this into a story, i just like the concept that my dream gave my a few days ago and I’m just expanding it. Sorry for too many text xD

I don't mind if you want to add something to this silly lil AU, It's just a fun thing for me to do :p

#dc comics #captain marvel #scenario #scenarios #billy batson #freddy freeman #mary batson #shazam #fantasy au #fantasy #pirate au #kd rambles #kenandeliza's art #shazam au #shazam fantasy au #captain marvel fantasy au

[krirebr]

For MTT: what if Ransom was actually looking forward to the arrangement, sick of dating and the party scene. When he sees reader it’s love at first sight for him at least.

Chelsea! This was a great ask, but answering it was hard for me. Maybe because MTT has so fully taken over my brain and trying to change it just a little tripped all sorts of internal booby traps for me.

Regardless, I was able to come up with something. Here is an alternate version of their first meeting where Ransom isn't a complete dick from his POV. But because I'm me, I, of course, can't just let these two be happy right away. Even in this alternate, alternate universe.

And somehow, even though this fought me the whole way, it's still well over 1k words. I don't know how.

No Way of Knowing

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, references to forced marriage and forced pregnancy, angst

Ransom was furious when Harlan and Linda told him. Absolutely livid. How dare they dictate his life like this! Yes, most of his friends had already entered into similar arrangements years ago, but he was doing fine the way he was!

And they were so fucking smug when they told him. ‘Oh, it’ll be so good for you.’ ‘It’s about time you settled down and joined the real world.’ Fuck that.

But. When he got home and had a chance to think calmly about it, without his mother’s resting smug face glaring at him, what was he doing, really? He was inching ever closer to forty and sleeping with random socialites just wasn’t as fun as it used to be. Almost all of his friends were married, so he didn’t really see much of them anymore. He was kind of lonely if he let himself admit it. Would this really be so terrible, if he did it for himself and not for them?

The pregnancy clause was admittedly awful but if you took the narrow timeline away for a minute, he could actually see wanting to be a father. He’d do it right, wouldn’t treat his kids the way his parents had treated him. This didn’t have to be the worst thing.

So he spent the next week going through the binder they’d given him, did what he could to get to know you. You were young, which made him a little nervous, but it wasn’t the largest age gap he’d seen in one of these things, and you were still very much an adult. You seemed intelligent (your fucking test scores were in there, which just seemed like a wild invasion of privacy) and sweet. You had a dog, which wasn’t ideal, but at least it was small, so he hoped he’d be able to tolerate it.

All in all, you didn’t seem like the typical society fare that Linda liked to parade in front of him. He dared to hope that that would hold true once he met you. That opportunity came faster than he was ready for. Just a week after he’d signed the papers, he was sitting in a restaurant, waiting for you. He already had his Macallan 18, trying to get some liquid courage before you appeared. 

You were a few minutes early and seemed surprised but pleased that he was already there. He stood up as you approached the table, partly to be polite and partly to get a better look at you. You were beautiful. Gorgeous. It was shocking, really, the way you took his breath away. That’d never happened before. 

“Hi,” you said softly as you stood opposite him and extended your hand, then gave him your name.

“Hi,” he said, somewhat stupidly. He swallowed and tried to pull himself together. “I’m Ransom,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” you said, cautiously, as you sat across from him and he sat back down. “Have you ordered yet?”

He shook his head, “Just a drink. I’m ready to order food whenever, but I’m in no rush.”

You nodded and after you briefly looked at the menu, he signaled the server over. He couldn’t stop watching you as you ordered. You asked a lot of questions about their wine selection. It seemed like you knew what you were talking about. He found himself wanting you to tell him all about it, how you knew so much, why you liked it. He just wanted to listen to you. 

Once the server was gone, you looked over at him warily. You were so nervous. He wanted to reach across the table and gently hold your hand, but he wasn’t sure how it’d be received. “So,” you said carefully, “I guess we should talk about how this is going to go.”

He nodded, a little disappointed that you wanted to get down to business straight away. He wanted to just talk, get to know you, take some time, but he supposed that he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get the hard parts out of the way. “I have a house,” he said, “just outside Boston. I think you’ll like it. It’s big, in a good neighborhood, quiet. But I’m not sure how suitable it will be for starting a family. That’s something we’ll have to talk about once you’ve seen it.”

You looked at him, shocked. “Start a family? Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? We’ve only just met.”

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Oh no. “Didn’t they tell you? You didn’t read the contract?” There was no way. They couldn’t have been that cruel.

He could see the panic rising in your eyes. “They didn’t give me any time to read it,” you said, your voice wavering. “What didn’t they tell me?”

Fucking shit. How could they have done that to you? And now he had to be the one to break the news. He cleared his throat and tried to speak calmly, gently. “There's a clause in the contract. We’ll need to conceive a child within the first year.”

“What.” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything, wanting to give you time to process. And he was afraid that if he tried to speak right now, his voice would come out far too angry. He needed to find out who was responsible for this, who had treated you so terribly.

“A baby,” you breathed. “With you? Right away.”

“They should have told you. Talked to you about it. I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have found out this way.” He wasn’t sure you heard him. You just stared straight ahead.

That, of course, was when the server brought out the food. The sound of your plate hitting the table right in front of you seemed to bring you back to the here and now. You looked down at it and shook your head and then looked back at him. “I don’t think I’m very hungry,” you said. 

“That’s fine. We–” 

You stood up, interrupting him. “I’m sorry,” you said, both your voice and body very stiff, “but I need to go.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, desperate to get you to change your mind, to fix this. “I’d really like you to stay, so we can have a chance to talk.”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, your voice resolute. “I can’t tonight. Maybe– Maybe we can talk another time.” 

And then you turned around and walked away, leaving Ransom reeling. He would spend the rest of his meal thinking about all the ways he would make this up to you, earn your trust, win you over. 

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv@texmexdarling @ladyvenera @she-wolf09231982 @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes

#krismas party #ask kris #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #reader insert #knives out #arranged marriage au #drabble #ce characters #chris evans fanfiction #kris wrote something #more than this

[oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse]

Sign of the Times

Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Summary - Anon request for "ominis family kidnaps you and tortures u cause idk why maybe bc ur muggleborn or something"

Word Count - 2,130

Warnings - angst, violence

A/N - maybe room here for a more comforting type part 2? thoughts?

For Ominis, Hogwarts had been much more eventful than he had wished it to be. He thought it could help him escape from home, but with everything that had happened 5th year he didn't think it could possibly get worse.

The bright side was that it was also somehow the best year for him because he met you. He hadn't been looking for any kind of new relationship, but you fell right into his lap.

A lot of students avoided him altogether either because of his lineage or his blindness, but not you. You paraded in late to the sorting ceremony, knocked Sebastian on his ass although you were really just on your first year, then walked right up to him and introduced yourself.

You did everything you could to guide Sebastian the right way and when he wouldn't listen you would be there for Ominis. He would make himself sick with worry when Sebastian would lie to the both of you and go off to doomed quests.

His favorite thing was when you would nestle up with him and read muggle stories. He always got a laugh out of the more innocent fairytales for children with their fantasies of how magic worked. You were able to make him feel better and learn new things all at once.

It was year 6 when things came to fruition between the pair of you. Ominis was alone in the Undercroft again. He was sad beyond belief about the whole situation with the Sallows. He had come to realize he cared for you deeply, he was pretty sure he loved you, but you couldn't replace Sebastian. Some days it felt too much for him to bear, at least too much to do it alone.

You found him slumped against a wall, silent tears on his face. You could tell it was bad because he didn't even acknowledge that you had shown up. You sat down with your legs crisscrossed in front of him, wrapping your arms around his drawn up knees to rest your head.

For a few moments you just sat in silence together, Ominis treasured that you gave him moments like this; moments to not be alone, but to steal just a few more moments of peace before he had to face reality.

You spoke up first to take the burden off of him, "Ominis, I know no matter what I am to you, I'll never be any of them. I didn't grow up with you and have years to make innocent memories."

He traced patterns over the back of your hand as you continued, "I want to start, though. I want to put as much of these things behind us as we can. I'm happy to be your rock whenever you need, however often you need to talk about these things, but I do want to help you enjoy life again. I promise I won't ever leave you."

You were smiling at him softly with adoration, wishing nothing more than to erase all the bad things he'd endured in such a short time. He kept his eyes on you, deep in thought for several moments before slowly deciding to close the gap between the two of you, to finally cross that line.

He found your cheek with his palm and drew you close, pressing soft lips to yours, willing you to understand all the things he didn't have words for. He pulled away enough to speak, leaning his forward against yours and his voice was barely a whisper, "You really promise?"

Now, in your 7th year, nearing the end of your education, you both were looking forward to so much. Neither of you could wait to taste the freedom of making a home where nobody could find you, using magic as much or as little as you wanted, even going out into the muggle world because why not?

You met up during a free period in the court yard, enjoying the scents of Spring. He sat pressed into your side, never overly affection in public, but always being sure to touch you in some way.

"Which class are you going to miss skipping the most, Y/N?" You gave him a playful whack, shaking your head as he grinned at you.

"Thank you very much, I have been to all of my classes this year except for when I've been sick," you huffed, pretending to be angry.

"Besides, I've been keeping myself busy and surrounded to avoid any run-ins with your absolutely insane family."

Ominis felt a pit in his stomach at your words. He couldn't wait to run away with you, but for now you were just a sitting duck to their threats. He assumed other families must have told his, which he thought was ridiculous that any of them cared enough. He assumed their lives were just too boring.

His family had threatened Ominis with the idea of hurting you, torturing you as they loved to do with anyone who wasn't a pureblood. He stood his ground with them, though. He made it clear that if they dared to do anything, he would personally ensure consequences. It was one of the reasons he worked as hard as he did to be a good wizard; he had to protect you.

"I really think for now their threats are empty," he lied, "they just want me to be afraid and miserable and if they think I am that's really enough for them." He didn't want you to worry or know how much he kept an eye on you in secret.

You shuffled to grab your bag, sighing in annoyance before placing a chaste kiss on his lips, "Well, even if they aren't just promise you'll forgive me for whatever I have to do to them?"

You winked although he couldn't see it as you pushed back his hair. He grabbed your hips to pull you closer, nearly knocking you over before murmuring, "Maybe I can find a way to reward you instead?"

You playfully slapped his hands away before running off, "Ominis. I have a class that I don't attend to go to!"

He smiled in spite of himself as you left before a worried look came over his features. Every day you remained at Hogwarts felt like a day in a jail cell for Ominis.

You were on your way to Advanced Divination, guard down thinking about how cute Ominis was when he let himself open up to being silly. Then suddenly your lights were just out. Everything was dark for what seemed like seconds and then you came to at some place you didn't recognize.

You found yourself in a what seemed to be a cave. It wasn't well lit, but there were candles around. As you sat up from the cool floor, scanning the room with caution, you saw faces you didn't recognize. You didn't need to in order to understand what was going on. It was the Gaunts.

You felt quickly for your wand just to realize it was no longer on your person. You couldn't keep your mouth shut as you scanned over them; Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt at a makeshift table as if preparing to watch a show while Marvolo roused from his seat upon seeing you awake.

"So you're cowards? I'm so much lesser than you and yet I can't have my wand to prove otherwise?" You stood up tall, adrenaline pumping as you were determined to not show them weakness.

Marvolo practically snarled at you as his parents watched in amusement, "It would be a pitiful sight as much as it would be a disgrace," he spat at you as he walked closer.

You threw your hands in the air, slightly amused when all 3 of them flinched as they were aware you had this ancient magic nobody really knew about, "Well, that's fine. I know you can't kill me, there would be too many repercussions that I daresay you lot can't afford. Ominis and I will be long gone for you to never worry about again in a few months so give me your worst."

You swallowed thickly upon finishing your sentence, knowing you were stalling what was to come your way. All you could hope was that Ominis noticed you were gone quickly enough to keep your sanity.

The word crucio flew threw the air so fast that you could at least pretend you didn't hear it. The minute the sparks hit you a scream left your mouth, you fell to your knees. You could hear your heartbeat and your blood rushing through your veins, it all felt like it was boiling.

You clutched helpless at your face, your arms, any of your exposed skin, clawing at it as if tearing it of would make the pain go away. Every movement, every breath, every ounce of your existence was filled with searing agony. As you wriggled and clench your fingernails against the cave floors you just kept the shade of Ominis' eyes in your mind.

You couldn't think to form thoughts or daydreams, you couldn't commit to thinking about him and your future together, but you could remember the cloudy blue eyes that got you through the worst days of your life you'd yet to experience. And you just hoped the could get you threw this one too.

The Gaunts taunted you with words you couldn't even understand as Marvolo flung you about, every once of rage at your insults pouring into the spell.

Suddenly, things seemed a little bit quieter. Your body felt like every bone had snapped, like you had been forced to run a mile per second for hours, but you could hear your own sobs and labored breathing. You were still in the throes of pain and panic, but nothing was intensifying any longer.

You couldn't process your surroundings as Ominis lifted you carefully from the floor, murmuring your name hoping that any time would be the time you answer him back.

He had run into Garreth in the lavatory where he was immediately confused to be asked why you didn't make it; after you had bragged about your attendance all year.

Ominis rushed passed him, his wand ready to guide him wherever you were with the aid of a charmed locket he had given you. As badly as he wanted to rush to you, he barged into headmistress Weasley's office to tell her what was going. He knew where you were, what was happening, and he trusted her from your relationship to know she would spring into action when headmaster Black wouldn't.

He stormed in with a fury, knowing help would be on his tail. He disarmed his brother and flung them all to the floor. None of them had every seen violence from him, that hellfire in his eyes. They were really too curious to look away as several aurors filled the cavern, manhandling magic restraints onto them.

Ominis felt ready to pass out himself as he heard your continued whimpers and understood much too well what you were going through. He was scared out of his mind that you wouldn't come back to him.

Things went dark again for you, but it wasn't just black this time. You could hear Ominis' soothing voice reading to you. You could see him running his fingers over the braille pages, eyes closed as he read a story the two of you often joked about.

As your eyelids fluttered, you reached up a hand to rub them and found that Ominis really was there. He heard your movement and was immediately kneeling by your side on the sofa.

Your hand drooped across your face, you regretted the movement the second you had made it, "Son of a -"

"I know," he interrupted. He rested a hand carefully over yours, "I unfortunately do know."

He sounded so sad. As memories of everything that had happened flooded you all at once you let out a painful breath, "Ominis. It's not your fault."

You lulled your head to look at him, wishing you could move enough to embrace him. "I was only able to take it by having you to live for."

"It only happened to you because you have me." His voice was flat and dejected.

You knew it wasn't the time to be sad or cry or talk about the fear. It wouldn't help anyways since it was all done with except for the lingering pain.

You mustered every bit of strength you had left to bring a hand to his cheek, forcing his gaze towards you.

"You should have seen their faces when I called them poor." Ominis groaned at you and buried his face in your palm, but he knew you were beaming at him with pride.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x you #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x oc #hogwarts legacy #mc is a menace with no self preservation