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#don't really know if this is what you were looking for nor if it helps
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Unwarranted
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Words: 4,983
POV: 3rd Person
Pairing: Team Free Will x Male!ExAngel!Reader [Platonic]
Warning(s): Mention of past sexual harassment, sexual harassment, angst, hurt/comfort
Summary: Humans are interesting and complex creatures, and ever since the reader lost his grace, he had to learn to become one. Luckily, he had his friends by his side to help him through his trials and tribulations. What happens when he's face-to-face with a human experience he never anticipated, and how will Team Free Will help him resolve his issue?
Request:
Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night. This request is very specific. I would write it myself, but im awful at it. I hope you don't mind, lol.
May you do (ex?)Angel!Male!reader x TFW (platonic obv). You can make it where Reader joined after the angels fell and was castiels past battle partner and was good friends with him, or something else if you'd like.
Reader lost his grace after a rogue angel took it from him. He has no idea how to be human and struggles a lot, even with the help of Dean, Sam, and Castiel. Anyways, to get to the point- Reader picked a pretty attractive vessel, so both men and women hit on him a lot when the group goes to diners or bars and most of the time Reader wanders off to explore since hes never really gone to earth before so the boys never notice, and he doesn't know how to react or what to do when they start to get touchy, only that he doesn't feel comfortable with it at all, but he thinks if he tells them to stop its a form of being rude, so he never says so. the person usually stops when they realize Reader isn't having the type of reaction they were looking for.
When Reader mentioned this to the boys randomly, they realized that Reader didn't know that it was bad that they were touching him and explained what it was, what to say, and do when that happens and comforts him when he finally cries as a human.
Anonymous
A/N: I am so sorry for going off the grid for a while! Honestly, keeping track of dates and time frames has not been my strong point, especially with everything going on with work. Luckily I'm almost done with another request as well and will have that up by this weekend! I hope this gives the request justice. As always, feedback is very much appreciated!
~ Much Love!
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Humans are interesting and complex creatures, each with their own thoughts, wants, needs, and interests. When (Y/N) first joined Castiel on Earth two years prior, he was amazed by the array of personalities and emotions. No two people are alike, but, due to the vast differences, many of them can be categorized under three distinct titles; good, neutral, and evil.
The good people are the ones who are selfless. They take the first step when it comes to helping others. They aren’t perfect but they are as close as anyone can be. Only a small amount of people fit into the category of ‘good’, most of which find themselves canonized into sainthood years after death. Many strive to be classified under such a prestige title, but few make the cut. However, just because someone isn’t worthy of the title, doesn’t make them a bad person automatically. 
Neutral individuals are what most would describe as your ‘average Joe’. It is the category in which most people lie. They are neither good nor bad. The choices they make in life come with a mix of positive and negative intentions. An example of a neutral person could be someone’s English teacher, who partakes in volunteer work after hours, or your boss, who had just been caught cheating on his wife with Jim from the mailroom. Just because people do bad things, doesn’t make them inherently evil. 
True evil is much darker. An individual who would put a demon to shame with their actions, thoughts, and desires. One with little regard for the well-being of others. Ones that hurt others purely for self-gratification. To gain an advantage. Those are the ones that end up in prison or a seat in Congress. They’re usually manipulative, have a silver tongue placed in their mouth at birth, and can easily coerce those who are weak and gullible. 
(Y/N) had met his fair share of individuals from all three categories throughout his time on Earth, supernatural entities excluded. At first, with his angelic powers, he was able to make an assumption of others based solely on their thoughts. Ever since the fall, however, his judgments on people had become rather askew. He was able to get the full experience of being human - not able to truly tell what one was thinking during various interactions - and he would be lying if he said he enjoyed it. Rather, the lack of understanding when it came to others caused him to develop a sense of paranoia. The last thing he wanted was for others to assume the worst of him. Even as an angel, he would treat the worst of the worst with as much kindness as he could muster.
Little did he know that the paranoia would lead to his downfall and a deep realization of how evil some people could be.
The first couple of weeks after his grace was stolen, (Y/N) was lost. He knew next to nothing about maintaining the necessary needs to keep his body alive. It was all tedious in his eyes. Why did humans need to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom so much throughout the day? Who possibly had the time to do so? Do they have to thread their needs into their schedules for work and school? On top of that, why did humans need to pay for food and water? Were they not necessities? Why would someone need to pay to survive? (Y/N) held a plethora of questions in his mind that still go unanswered. 
Thankfully, Castiel, Sam, and Dean were all there for him, guiding him through the processes necessary to provide for his new form. It took a while for him to get the hang of it - the most overwhelming thing was when he was introduced to a large variety of foods. All the new flavors and textures send his tongue into sensory overdrive. Dean was more than happy to realize, though, that the two of them were rather fond of the same flavor of pie. 
With the loss of his grace came the depletion of his strength. He was no longer invincible to man-made weaponry. Because of this, and since Sam and Dean’s jobs were so physically demanding, they spent weeks in training. Blades, firearms, and hand-to-hand all had their challenges, but (Y/N) was a quick learner, something the brothers respected him highly for. Within a month and a half, he was on the road with them, hopping from case to case. 
Saving people, hunting things, the family business. 
And true it was. The time he had spent with Castiel and the Winchesters was extensive, and there was never a dull moment. Away from the darkness and the monsters that crept in the night, Sam and Dean were playful jokesters. Childish, yet mature when they needed to be. It was noticeable that Castiel had also developed certain aspects of their personalities, as he was more lighthearted than when (Y/N) first met him. As time passed, (Y/N), too, started to display those characteristics. He felt like a member of the team. A real Winchester. For the first time since the fall, he felt at home. 
*~*
(Y/N) had been to a handful of bars since he turned human, before becoming an honorary member of the Winchester family, and there was one fact he could confidently state; he didn’t like them. 
Sure, he met some rather nice people while at said bars, mainly the middle-aged female bartenders who gave off a motherly aura, but with every kind individual he saw, he encountered twice as many assholes. Those were the ones that drunkenly called him slurs even though they knew nothing about him, the ones that shoved him out of the way when they wanted to get to the bar, or the ones that continuously pushed their limits on his personal boundaries.
Unfortunately, he had experienced the latter more than he would have liked.
He couldn’t quite describe how he felt when he had those interactions. When a bar patron would press themselves against his back or chest, touch his ass or thighs, or even leave kisses on his neck, shoulders, cheeks, and lips. It was decided, though, that he was extremely uncomfortable. Why would he possibly feel that way? He assumed that touches and kisses were how humans expressed affection towards one another. So, why didn’t he like it? He chalked it up to not being used to that form of affection or affection in general. Surely, he was bound to get comfortable with it eventually. 
After-hunt celebrations were common with the Winchesters. Either the day of or the night after, they would all gather at the nearest watering hole, grab a drink or two, and then head back to the motel. Sometimes, Sam or Dean would abandon the group to retreat with a romantic partner, but (Y/N) would always stick with Castiel and the remaining brother. He never had any interest in human relations. It was a new, complex situation outside of learning to be human. He was just getting used to that concept, and he had no desire to learn about other aspects of humanity yet. 
Classy Cline’s sat on the edge of a small town in Washington state. While its name suggested an upscale establishment, the place was, in all actuality, a shit hole. The booths and barstools were ripped at every corner of the seam, the tables were chipped and scuffed, and it appeared as if the employees hadn’t swept or mopped the floor in well over a decade. They had all been to nasty bars in the past, but Classy Cline’s took the cake.
“I don’t even wanna drink from this glass,” Sam mumbled as he eyed the pint glass Dean had placed in front of him. 
While aesthetics weren’t on Cline’s side, the beer looked more than appetizing. An amber/gold liquid, topped with a beautiful, white head. Any beer enthusiast would foam at the mouth at the sight. The glasses, contrary to the floors, looked spotless. If they had put as much effort into cleaning the building as they did disinfecting the glassware, lines would be out the door, and Cline would be a millionaire.
“Oh, don’t be a baby, Sammy,” Dean rolled his eyes and gave a beer to (Y/N) and Castiel. “It may not live up to its name, but the beer sure looks good.”
“Thank you, Dean,” (Y/N) and Castiel spoke in unison.
“I’ll never get used to that,” Dean shook his head and sat down next to his brother. “It’s as if you two are constantly in sync.”
(Y/N) furrowed his brows as he cupped the glass with one hand, condensation coating his palm. “We’re an American boy band from the 90’s?” He cocked his head to the side.
Dean froze, the glass inches from his lips as he shot him a questioning glance. “While I’m proud of you for remembering what I taught you about music, that’s not what I meant. ‘In sync’. Two separate words.”
“Oh…”
“(Y/N) and I have worked together for well over a century. We’re bound to have some similarities.” Castiel explained.
Dean shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” he took a sip of his beer.
(Y/N) noted Sam’s hesitancy to drink, so he took a moment to examine the liquid himself. It looked clean, safe, and better than many other beers he had drank before. He took a swig and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still very cold. A layer of foam coated his upper lip. Sam picked up his glass and examined the bottom.
“Will you stop that?” Dean scolded. “The beer is fine, Sam, you’re not going to die. You look like an idiot.”
“Well, excuse me for being skeptical, Dean! Have you seen the state of this place? I believe I have a right to be concerned.” Sam hissed.
“The beer is very pleasant, Sam,” (Y/N) smiled as he took another long swig, downing half the pint. 
Sam slowly nodded. “I can tell,” he mumbled and glanced down at his glass. He hesitated for a moment before he took a careful sip, letting the liquid rest against his tastebuds before he swallowed. He hummed and raised his brows. “Wow, that’s pretty good.”
“See? Your big brother knows a thing or two about beer,” Dean smiled.
A bartender waltzed into view - an overworked twenty-something with her dirty blonde hair tossed back into a bun that she should have fixed hours ago. She sat a rocks glass in front of (Y/N), the ice emanating a clink inside as it shifted. He stared and intensely studied the dark liquid.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t order this,” he looked up at her.
The bartender sighed and gestured towards the bar. “The man over there sent it,” she grumbled, her voice unenthusiastic and laced with exhaustion. She didn’t give him any time to further investigate before she swiveled through the booths and tables, vanishing into the crowd of regulars. 
The group looked at the drink with curiosity before their attention shifted to the bar. Only one of the patrons had their gaze glued to the hunters. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with short, salt-and-pepper hair decorating the top of his head and a beard to match. Age lines crinkled the corners of his mouth and eyes. A leather jacket covered his broad shoulders and the jeans he wore left little to the imagination. When (Y/N)’s eyes connected with the stranger’s, the man smirked and winked. (Y/N) continued to stare at him, lips slightly parted, until he felt an elbow in his side. His gaze shot over to the eldest Winchester.
“Give him a smile and a wave. That shows him you appreciate it.” Dean said through a smile.
“Oh,” (Y/N) raised his brows and looked back at the man, whose eyes were still on him. He gave a small smile, followed by a timid wave.
The stranger grinned before he turned his head away. (Y/N) looked down and studied the glass once more. The liquid was a slightly darker shade than the beer, but more transparent. When he picked it up, the liquid sloshed inside. The smell was strong but slightly sweet. Whiskey. A sip of it caused him to cringe. It was Fireball. Not the best choice to send a stranger across the bar, but to each their own. 
Dean leaned in close to him, his cheeky grin still prominent. “You should go over and talk to him.”
“Why?”
“He just gave you a drink. He wants to talk to you.”
(Y/N) gave Dean a confused stare. “How does that-”
“It doesn’t matter.” Dean waved him off. “He’s flirting with you by sending over the drink! You should go flirt back.”
(Y/N) looked from the drink to Dean, from Dean to the stranger. He was a very attractive man, but (Y/N) was far from interested in flirtation. However, if Dean thought he should, what could go wrong? He trusted Dean’s advice.
Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood, the glass of Fireball in hand, and made his way over to the bar where the gentleman sat. He took the empty barstool next to him. The man looked at him out of the corner of his eye and smirked.
“Good to see you up close,” he said and turned his body to face (Y/N). “You’re even cuter than I thought. Chris,” he held out his hand.
This is a handshake. This is how strangers greet each other.
(Y/n) grasped Chris’ hand and shook it gently. He noticed how firm his grip was. “My name is (Y/N),” he said.
Chris smirked. “A beautiful name for a beautiful man,” he pulled his hand away and casually placed it on (Y/N)’s knee. “I’ve been coming here for, close to, fifteen years, and I have never seen anyone as good-looking as yourself. You new around here?”
(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to Chris’ hand before they returned to his face. “My friends and I are on a trip.” He replied. It’s a classic lie most hunters use and one that was taught to him early on in his training.
“Ah, and how long will you be staying?”
“I believe this is the last night we’re here.”
“You’re not sure?”
“My friend, Dean, drives us. He knows more about our itinerary than I do.”
“A ‘go with the flow’ kind of man. I like it.”
As they continued to talk, Chris’ hand ventured further up (Y/N)’s thigh, squeezing the flesh on his leg from time to time. Simple conversation switched to flirting rather quickly, the majority of it one-sided. What started as cheesy ‘first date’ type questions turned risque in the blink of an eye. At first, they were easy questions that (Y/N) could answer without an issue, but once they started to get dirty, his mind turned blank. Half the vocabulary Chris used was new to him. While he knew all of them revolved around sex, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the definition, regardless of the context clues provided. 
He could feel the familiar pit in his stomach as the questions droned on. The sensation that he couldn’t quite give a title to yet. At least, not an accurate one. ‘Uncomfortable’ seemed as if it fit too loosely for the circumstance. It felt as if there were a swarm of bees buzzing around in his stomach, moving from his gut to his chest periodically.
Chris leaned in close to (Y/N)’s ear, his warm, whiskey-filled breath caressing his cheek. (Y/N)’s eyes were cast down. He had lost the ability to maintain constant eye contact when the mood shifted, and the bees began their attack.
“What do you say we get out of here?” Chris asked. “I could show you a thing or two.”
When Chris’s hand landed on (Y/N)’s crotch, every muscle in his body was on fire as they clenched tightly. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and his body froze. The bees didn’t just fly, they infiltrated his entire nervous system. He felt an overwhelming need to retreat like one would in a battle they knew they couldn’t win. But he wasn’t in a battle. It was a simple conversation. Why did he feel like that?
Chris pressed small kisses on the back of (Y/N)’s ear. (Y/N) inhaled and turned his head slightly, the need to get away from Chris strong. Chris immediately stopped and opened his eyes. He paused for a moment before he pulled away and sighed.
“I see you’re not as interested as I thought you were,” he gave a tight smile, pulled out his wallet, and slammed a twenty on the bar. “Thanks for nothing.” He grumbled before he got up and stormed away.
With his presence gone, (Y/N) felt a sense of peace and ease wash over him. The beating of his heart inside his chest began to lessen and return to a normal pace. With a glance down at his hand, he noticed the way his fingertips trembled. That hadn’t been the first time someone else had gotten so bold with touching him, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. When was that feeling going to go away?
After a minute or so passed, he was able to compose himself enough to stand from the barstool and wander back to the table where Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat. He joined them without a word, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, and grabbed his lukewarm beer. There was no chance he was going to drink anymore that night. Not with his stomach as uneasy as it was.
“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked.
“I’m fine,” (Y/N) spoke.
“You sure?” Dean chimed in. “Guy looked like he had a stick up his ass when he left.
(Y/N) shrugged. “I believe he just wanted to leave.” He tried to keep his voice as straight as possible. He could tell his nerves hadn’t fully recovered.
Dean shook his head. “Well, his loss.”
*~*
One thing (Y/N) adored about being human was the way showers made him feel after a hunt. He never quite realized how tense his muscles could get until the hot water caressed his limbs. It was as if all the adrenaline was washed from his body. It made him feel refreshed. Renewed.
That night, he got the last shower. The water wasn’t as hot as other showers he had taken, but he would accept warm any day. By the time he left the bathroom, clad in a pair of night pants and a loose t-shirt courtesy of the youngest Winchester, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were dressed to leave. Another post-hunt celebration. Dean glanced at (Y/N).
“You’re not coming?” He asked. 
(Y/N) shook his head and walked over to his bed. “Not tonight, no.”
“Why not? You never miss out on a bar.”
(Y/N) settled into the bed, and sat up with his legs crossed. “I notice that humans get very physical when they are at bars. I’m not quite used to it yet, so I think I’m going to wait until I’m ready.”
“Ready for what, (Y/N)?” Castiel asked.
“The touching.”
The three of them shared a concerned look before Sam waved his hand dramatically, eyes closed tightly. 
“Wait,” he reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean ‘get used to’?”
“Well, I’m not accustomed to the way humans express attraction. I surely wasn’t aware that there was as much physical contact involved. So, I figured it was something I would be more comfortable with as time went on. I mean, I never knew strangers were so interested in touching each other’s genitalia.”
They all furrowed their brows, confusion etched perfectly on their faces, and slowly made their way over to the bed. Sam sat at the edge next to (Y/N), Dean stood next to him, and Castiel sat on the opposite side of the bed from Sam.
“(Y/N),” Sam started, his voice soft and steady, the same voice he used when talking to the families of victims. “Have you…given these people permission to touch you?”
(Y/N) cocked his head to the side, slightly taken aback by the question, as it was something he had never even considered before. Had he permitted them to touch him? He could not recall. Then again, he didn’t remember them asking. He took a moment to think back on the times he had been in bars since he became human.
“No,” he answered. “The first couple of times it happened, I pulled away from the touch, as it made me rather uncomfortable, but they would just get upset. One man told me it was wrong to ‘lead him on’ and then deny his touch. After that, I let people touch me. I would like a break from it for tonight.”
“(Y/N), other humans need permission to touch you,” Castiel said.
“But they get upset-”
“To Hell with them being upset,” Dean interjected. “No one has a right to touch you, especially if you don’t want them to.”
“Is that why that one guy left the last bar we went to left? You wouldn’t let him touch you?” Sam asked.
(Y/N) could feel his cheeks and neck heat up. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hide his face. Was it because of the answer to the question? Was it because of the question itself? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the origin of the sense of dread, but he knew it wasn’t going to vanish anytime soon.
He shook his head, eyes cast down to his hands. “I let him touch me. I assume it was because I didn’t respond when he asked me to leave with him.”
Dean’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand down his face. “Son of a bitch,” he growled and began to lightly pace between the motel beds.
Sam slowly shook his head. “(Y/N), those people are horrible. You should never touch someone without consent, and you should never let anyone touch you if you are uncomfortable with it. Do you understand?” His eyes were laced with sympathy.
(Y/N) went to say something, but he felt a lump in his throat prevent him from doing so. Instead, he just gave a short, brief nod.
“I can only imagine how tough it was to become human. To lose all that power. You may not have the power to heal us anymore or read others’ minds, but you are still your own person, (Y/N). You have the power to tell people to keep their hands off of you. You have the power to let yourself have a good time at these places. It doesn’t matter what other people think about your choices. In the end, all that matters is you, okay?”
“Okay,” he replied, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. 
(Y/N) sniffled, and he felt as if his head was pulsing. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. For the first time since he lost his grace, he cried. It wasn’t loud and dramatic, but, rather, soft.
It explained so much. How he hated the way bar patrons touched him, the sinking feeling when they got too close, the panic that coursed through his veins. That was no flaw on his part, but a flaw on the strangers. What they did was wrong, not him.
And that validation broke him.
(Y/N) immediately knew he hated crying. His chest ached as the silent sobs racked his body. In a way, it was relieving, though. It felt as if all of the pent-up discomfort was being released. As if he was reborn. Still, it hurt worse than it did comfort him.
Castiel was the first to respond as he placed a gentle hand against (Y/N)’s back, Sam, being the closest, engulfed him in a near bone-shattering embrace, and Dean halted his paces to kneel beside the bed, one of his hands landing on the small of his back. (Y/N) closed his eyes tight and leaned his head against Sam’s chest. Their touch made him feel safe. This was a good touch. This was how touch should make him feel. He shouldn’t be forced to feel uncomfortable to please others, because, in reality, some people aren’t going to like him, even if the reasons are far from valid. It was a harsh reality, but as long as he had his family by his side, he didn’t mind if the whole world hated him.
After a few quiet minutes, filled with silent cries, the tears stopped. (Y/N)’s eyes were bright red and puffy, and he occasionally sniffled.
“Hey,” Dean said, his voice soothing.
(Y/N) lifted his head from Sam’s chest and glanced over at him. Sam pulled back a bit so the embrace wasn’t nearly as intense.
“If you’re ever in a situation like that, where some douchebag won’t keep his hands off of you, all you have to do is say the word and we’ll kick his ass for you.”
“What if it’s a woman?” He asked quietly.
Dean opened his mouth to give a quick answer but shut it as he thought about it. “Then we will have Cas bring Jody or Charlie in to kick her ass. The point is; fuck everyone else.”
(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Does that not mean to have intercourse with them?”
Dean sighed. “Sam, Cas, a little help?”
“What Dean is trying to say,” Castiel chimed in. “Is that you should not prioritize other peoples’ desires over your comfort. You are more important than a stranger. They are not important, you are, and what other people think doesn’t matter. If someone does not listen to you when you deny them, we will do everything in our power to protect you. We still care about you, and want what’s best for you.”
Dean pressed his lips together and nodded. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. That’s exactly what I meant.”
Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Look, we know how tough it is to be human. Dean and I have been dealing with this our whole lives. We know that there are setbacks that come with the package, but there are also a ton of fun experiences. We don’t want some jackass to ruin it for you. Cas said it better than Dean or I could. We care about you and want to do everything we can to look out for you. You deserve it.”
The tears reappeared, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy. Of relief. As if his heart would burst with all the love and care his friends will it with. (Y/N) took a moment to wrap his arms around each of them in an individual hug to show his appreciation. 
“Thank you. I am very grateful to have friends like you.” He smiled warmly.
Dean smiled before he cleared his throat and waved him off. “Alright, enough of the chick-flick crap,” he said as he stood from his spot on the floor, a groan escaping his throat that he tried not to make too noticeable. “What do you say we skip the bar tonight, order some takeout, and watch a movie? I hear Roadhouse is on at seven.”
(Y/N) cocked his head to the side. “What’s Roadhouse?”
Dean froze, wide-eyed. His jaw dropped in shock. “‘What’s Roadhouse’?” He repeated in disbelief. “Action movie? Patrick Swayze? Sam Elliott? Kelly Lumch? Julie Michaels? Keith David!?” With each name, his voice got louder.
“Are those actors?”
“I-” Dean threw his hands up as he turned his back on him and began to pace around the room once more.
(Y/N) flashed a worried look at Castiel, then Sam. Sam shook his head and chuckled. 
“Dean’s just being dramatic,” he whispered, which caused (Y/N) to let out a sigh of relief.
“I am not being dramatic!” Dean retorted before he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “This is all my fault. I was so focused on teaching him about good music that movies never crossed my mind. Have you at least seen Indiana Jones?”
“Indiana…as in the state?”
“If it makes you feel any better, (Y/N), I, too, have yet to see Roadhouse or Indiana Jones,” Castiel said.
Dean deadpanned. “I have some work to do. Sam, go get us some food. I need to make a list of movies for them to watch.”
Sam snorted as he stood from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, yeah. Just text me what you guys want.” He mumbled and retrieved his jacket from the back of one of the chairs.
As Sam left to get them food, Dean began to ramble on about movies he determined (Y/N) and Castiel had to watch, most of which were either action or old westerns. He talked with such passion regarding the films that (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Dean was right, the opinions of others didn’t matter, especially those whose only goal was to satisfy their selfish desires, disregarding others’ wellbeing. They were foolish, scum, true lions in sheep’s clothing. Those hidden evil beings could make themselves look innocent. (Y/N) didn’t need to please them. Didn’t need to make them happy. He only wanted to make his family happy, just as they did him. For how much they’ve helped him on his treacherous journey into manhood, they deserve it, for they have taught him the most valuable lesson of all;
His worth was priceless.
“Hey, are you even listening?”
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jazeswhbhaven · 5 hours
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We outside with a Bad Boy~ (Satan Attacker Prologue Part II)
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P A U S E
if you're seeing this first, check out Part I here ->
If you already checked it out, then let's continueeeee
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So we left off on Beel trying to take MC away before shit went down in Satan's office. So here we have Levi trying to guilt trip them into going with him (thanks Levi)
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And then we have Mammon who's just trying to have a relaxing spa day (in boiling gold....Mammon...please think about how human bodies and skin work against a temperature so high where gold can be boiled please babes)
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So because MC can't make a choice at the moment, all three kings are growling at each other (i'd be melting to be honest because yes fight over me) and then there's something strange? another noise? huh?????
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HE WHAT
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So we have Satan busting inside his office, slamming the kings into the wall, and doing that ever so famous Akira motorcyle pose to come whisk MC away from the scene.
And idk about ya'll but even though I was having a time watching those three fight over MC, I was rooting for Satan being able to take them away because I mean...presentation. He showed up like the badass he is AND on a motorbike he tinkers and fixes up himself?
handy. hot. fast. amazing hair.
let's motherfucking go bby.
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So we begin the chase....and from this screenshot alone, I'm pretty sure he's done something similar before where he's had to run away from them at some point. Probably when they were kids and playing tag.
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SO they do come after MC and Satan. Mammon using his gigantic hands and Levi's monster tentacle things that he summons from his coffin. (iirc from his event that monster is called Leviathan and Levi just adopted the name because he doesn't actually have a real name just a number he was given at the devil camps)
So let me get this straight for a moment.
The nobles and other subjects that help in the palace were just getting done fixing up the place and here comes these two crashing and bashing things up again.
I'd be pi s s s s e d as a citizen who just finished fixing up my driveway/house and it gets fucked up again. It reminds me of Gotham city. Like what insurance will cover this? (lmao)
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So Beel is also chasing us with his swarm of flies. Satan isn't worried about this nor was he worried about Levi or Mammon, calling them slow for how large they are and himself quick and nimble because of how 'small' he is compared to them.
And it clears because he maneuvers through those skinny-ass alleyways of Gehenna quite easily, and it's unfamiliar stuff for the other kings so ofc they can't really catch Satan on his own stomping grounds.
But full stop before I continue.
Have ya'll noticed that Satan embodies street punk, bad boy could be in a biker gang or part of the yakuza but lives in a quaint European town like Gehenna with Victorian meets Balenciaga (cause of the Gucci/Loui V boots) dressed nobles? Like...I feel Gehenna should have been reminiscent of a place like Cyberpunk 2077 or like that city in Gantz.0 or just anything city wise with lots of rainy days and cyberwave music.
So back to our story because I had to stop and think about some wishful stuff for Satan lmao
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SOOO he ended up killing Beel's flies because he knew the exact time that a restaurant throws out their hot boiling pots of water for this weird red corn with teeth that Belial eats a lot (gawd I'd starve in Hell nothing is normal for me to eat lmao)
And he zoom zoom zooms to different part of the city
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NOW HERE IS WHERE IT GETS HOT FOR ME
Sometimes I keep forgetting that I like certain elements of Satan. That he has qualities that I thirst for in theory for a partner that I know I don't want irl because the moment they even do it I'd dry up like a desert.
But when Satan does it? Floodgates.
So we're in an alleyway of just an area that looks nothing like the rest of Gehenna (peep the background it looks like a downtown area unless Europe is like that, idk I've never been outside the states with my broke ass, I just recently got my passport like a couple years ago T^T)
And MC is talking loud as per usual, and Satan is like "shhh" lmao
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the reason being is because he's trying to make sure that he got away from everyone, and since all they hear are just random citizens in suits walking around, that means the coast is clear for now.
also, he's heated up? oh you know what that means
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Okay I take back my prior statement about the background, I couldn't see the transition to the city area MY BAD FOLKS
anyways Satan's got us all pushed up on the wall, MC describing how they haven't seen him in a while so everything is like new, like how they first met, and that he may be smaller than the other kings, but he's larger than MC (lets me know that MC is probably at best 5ft 5 or 5 ft 6)
Also...grabbing MC by the scruff of their neck? HELLO?
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Now see...he would of had me right there. I'd be a trembling mess because don't tell me that while we're outside? You need to?
Mean you are horny as fuck right now and you need to take me to pound town? AFTER SAYING ONLY HE CAN TAKE US ANYWHERE FUCHOSUJNCOJOKLSNLJKNFLKJ
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Look at the pan out on the first screenshot, I'm crying...his horns make up most of his height and that will always amuse the fuck out of me.
Also MC brought up that his body is hard, like he's made of condensed muscle and I'm like oh you know when people draw on large canvases and shrink it down and the image because sharper?
(I know weird analogy but work with me)
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that pink CAWK could reach anywhere as far as I'm concerned
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oh I jumped the gun earlier...this is when he says he can take you anywhere lololol
but yeah that would send me to the heavens, i'd be begging for him to fuck me at this point like take me ANYWHERE SATAN like I know you will, because yeah.
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^^^ me with that d i c k
ANYWAYS LOLOL I'm so unserious ya'll i'm sorry
But that ends the prologue. I DO plan on summarizing the rest of this story btw but I have to figure out how I want to do it because it's mostly just smut stuff lmao and I have to choose the screenshots carefully cause his dick is out in most of it and tumblr is NO NO with that.
As my closing statement there was a time where MC was just like "I wish there were three of me so I could go with all of them" and I'm just thinking to myself....
Beel would be interested in helping you tackle that, MC...and then Levi would probably be like "Yeah if I hack you into pieces for not coming with me" and Mammon is just like "Three of you? All for me??? :D"
It would be so silly.
but as usual, thank you for stopping by and reading my react rambles. It's always a pleasure and I appreciate you all <3
Stay tuned for more react posts because I'm on a role today~ so you will be bombared.
your lovely admin- \(♡´౪<♡)/
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Note
How do tealstar process their grief?
Whoo boy.
Chikao generally jumps to getting pissed off at someone, blaming somebody for whatever the loss was (even if it's who/what she lost itself), but also misses very deeply. When the actual sad/grief starts to kick in she generally shoves it down and ignores it in favor of getting pissed at the world and wrecking stuff to try to get it back. Acknowledging it's not coming back is her biggest issue with trying to process, but it does help.
Tongbi gets really overwhelmed with everything and shuts down, stays in bed, and does nothing for however long. He sleeps a lot and it's extremely hard to get up and do anything. He's extremely resistant to talking to anyone, but he processes through talking about it. It's a back-and-forth of talking about it, writing it down, etc. helps, but it overwhelms him a lot.
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velvetydream · 4 months
Text
꒰ :🥀 [ Like a deer in headlight ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : After finding out that Alastor indeed had ears atop his head, it was now time for round two of your game - his deer tail.
Pairing : Alastor x Reader
Word count : 3313 Words
Genre : Fluff, Suggestive(?)
Warnings ➵ Possessive and out of character Alastor,
he accidentally hurts and scares Reader
a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Reader story, > Deer in headlight < , got asked for this by a few people, so here ya'll go! Hope it's as good as the first one!♡
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It had been a week since you had discovered Alastor's ears and he had let you touch them for the first time. Sneaking on him a few times to caress or play with them, maybe even a little tug or kiss to them when none of the others were looking. The relationship between you two also changed to something different, you couldn't exactly put a name to it, but it was more than friends, but definitely less than lovers. It confused you. Alastor confused you. Once he is nice to you, cooks you dinner, and lets you play with his ears while he writes a new script, the next time he rather distances himself from you, makes jokes here and there as if he himself didn't know what to do nor how to act.
The others also had picked up on the change between you two, Angel was teasing you about it a lot, Husker just warned you to be careful, Niffty was herself like always and Charlie was super happy about how close you two seemed to have gotten now.
So now to your new mission at hand, round two of your self-proclaimed game. Figure out if Alastor has a tail and if yes, get around to touch it! But this time it seemed to be harder than before, Alastor had his guard up a lot around you now, even when he let you play with his ears. Every time your hand wanders away from his ears down to try and peak under his coat, his hand either guides yours back up to his head or he entirely gets up and leaves, making sure you cannot find out if he has a fluffy little tail.
So now you were sitting at the bar, head resting on the counter as Husker slid your favorite drink over to you. "No look yet huh sweets? Was surprised you even got around to touching his ears without injuries." Angel now sat down beside you, softly patting your back as you let out a tired groan. "I just don't get it! I mean he saw that in the it wasn't that bad when I touched his ears! So why is it so bad now if I figure out if he has a tail too!" Pouting, you sit up a bit now taking a sip from your glass. "Maybe he doesn't have one, none of us ever saw one at least. Or maybe if he has one it's a different feeling for him than his ears?" Husker was cleaning a glass now as he spoke to you. Maybe he was right but.. you really wanted to know if he had a cute matching tail. Eyes going around the foyer now as you notice Alastor making his way up the stairs.
"Al! Wait up!" Jumping down from the barstool to follow him up the stairs, he waited for you on the stairs before walking up beside you. Eyes glancing over to him, he looked calm as always, his signature smile adorning his face, staff clutched in one hand as he walked alongside you. "How can I help you today dear?" Looking over at him now, you simply followed him to where he was going. "Are you doing a broadcast today? May I listen again?" Raising an eyebrow slightly Alastor looks over to you, nodding in agreement as he leads you to his radio tower. Over the last week, you had listened to his broadcast live two times already, which made you happy that he allowed you to join him. Opening the door for you, you enter first as you immediately take a seat at the table, Alastor had put up a second chair for you. Still, you noticed how his eyes had a glimmer of suspicion at how you suddenly wanted to listen in today.
Waiting for him to start the broadcast, your head was leaning on your hand as you watched Alastor with a smile. Suddenly an idea came into your head, trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to grow on your face. Alastor was focused on his broadcast, talking about something you weren't even listening to anymore. Reaching your hand over now, your fingertips softly graze his ears, as Alastor lets out a surprised yet quiet yelp, before turning his head to you with a warning glare. Returning his gaze with a smirk now, as you stand up from your seat and slowly walk over to him, he was glaring at you now. You were so close to fucking up, but this was a chance. Reaching your hand out to the back of his coat to pull it up. Quickly the > On Air < sign switched up, as Alastor grabbed your wrist in a rather right grip. Turning his head to you now, his antlers had grown in size, a red X on his forehead, and eyes turned to dials. You definitely fucked up now.
"D̷̢͙̟̼̘̊̒̑͑͝ë̸͇͍͓̲͇͂̾̓͝a̴͙̻̞̫̞̾̑̈́͑̕r̸̖͎̼̳͍̀̉̌̉̒ ̶̜͉̦͔̒̋̌̒̕ͅw̵̛̲̭̰̼͒̑̎͝ͅh̴͚̮̬̜̔̉͗̀̅ͅa̴̭͖͍̩̣͐̀̇͂̿ţ̷̛̪̣̥͓̓̆̕͠ ̴̢͓͓͙̯̂̀͋̀͘w̵̘̣̫͚͛̋͛̊͠ͅë̴̢̡̛̥̦͇́̄̉̈ř̶͓̜̗̻̓̊̐͘ͅẽ̷̮̻͈͕͎̓̌͐̈ ̵̠̝̫̺̲̑́̍̈́̈́ÿ̴̳̩͍͎̙́̌́̿̈́o̶̰̭͎͈̣̅͛͑̌͘u̶̢̝̥̞̪͋́̒̎͝r̶ ̵͕͉̫̻̤̎̐̋̾͘į̴͕͈̮̅̎̈́̀̌ͅn̸̠̳̮̤̻͆͛̔̎͋t̸̖̻̲̘̭̐̎̂̏̕e̵̞͎͎̭̗̓̍̓̉̈́n̶̬͈͎̤͉̈́̈́̈́̇̾ţ̶̱͓̥̲̅̔͋̀̚i̶̡̲͕̤̩̒̏͐̈́͝ǒ̷̗̰̯̩̻́̔̄́n̸̡̧̞̩̥̔͆̎͆̅s̵̪̣̱͔̎͒́̽͠ͅ ̷̝͍͈̥͌͂̿̏͘ͅr̶̹͚̦͉̞̈́̈́͂̋̀i̶̡̨̛͉͇͇̾͐͊̍g̸̨̛͉͎̰̖͋̒͒̓h̴̜̫͕̪͊͊̈́͝͠ͅt̷͉̳̩̰̜͗̈́̓̽̒ ̴̨̬̱̰̠̒͂̍́̏n̸̬͍̬̣̗̿̃̅́͑ǫ̸̠̰̈̊͌͗̚͜͜w̴̧̜̺̖̓́̎͗͆ͅ?̴̠̖̯̤͚̓̀̎̂͆"
Gulping once, you try to pull your arm back from his grip, which just makes him tighten it. Hissing lowly, you squeeze your eyes shut, it was slowly stinging a bit from how tight his grip was. "Al.. You're hurting me!" Alastor finally turned back to himself, letting go of your red wrist now, a print of his fingers visible as you cradled your hand against your chest. "I'm going to leave for now.." Head down as you hurriedly leave the room, closing the door behind you as you dart for your room, ignoring Angel's calls who just walked past you. Throwing yourself on your bed now, you looked at your wrist scared now. He had never used his demon form for you, there was no way of denying that he had scared you. Closing your eyes to push away the tears that were slowly building up in your eyes, as your consciousness drifts away.
"Dear, wake up." A hand on your shoulder was softly shaking you awake, lifting your head to take in your surroundings before meeting Alastor's eyes. Sitting up quickly, you scoot a bit away from him as you watch him with wide eyes. "Alastor..! What are you doing in my room?" Watching him now, as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, making sure to not make you any more uncomfortable by getting too close to you. "I'm sorry about back there, I lost it a bit, I shouldn't have." Despite smiling, you noticed that Alastor was genuinely apologizing to you. "I'm sorry, I crossed a line there, I used your trust in me listening to your broadcast live, I'm truly sorry." Laying your hand near his own carefully, letting him decide if he wants to be touched right now. Looking down, he softly takes your hand, as he presses a kiss against the red fingerprints he had left behind. His eyes were closed right now as his lips linger a second longer than they usually do. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." Raising to his feet now, he gave you a soft smile, before leaving you stunned in your room.
Laying back down against your pillows, your gaze was on the ceiling as your cheeks became a soft shade of red. What was he thinking? Turning onto your side now as you hug your pillow against your chest, looking to where Alastor sat just a few minutes prior.
The next day arrives, as you make your way down the stairs to the others. Charlie was right now explaining something to Angel and Husker, hyper as always. Vaggie was simply sitting on one of the couches with a book right now, while Alastor was nowhere to be seen. "Hey Vaggie, have you seen Alastor?" Leaning over the back of the couch now so the girl could see you as she looks over to you. "He went out rather early today, saying something about Overlords meeting and visiting a friend in Cannibal Town." Raising your eyebrows slightly at that, friend in Cannibal Town? Definitely Rosie. He probably decided to tag along with her a bit after the meeting, as she was also an Overlord. Thanking Vaggie, you go over to the other three to let Vaggie read her book in peace.
"Okay and then when Heaven agrees we could- Oh good morning!" Waving to you immediately now as Charlie noticed you coming over. Greeting them all with a smile and good morning now before Charlie starts to ramble on about her plans. It was nice seeing such a hyper and happy girl in hell, it was definitely a change to how people normally were down here.
"By the way sweets, would you mind tagging along to the city today? I wanted to go visit some clothing stores you would definitely like!" Angel laid his hand on your shoulder now as he asked you, before even thinking you agreed. It had been a while since you had last been to the part of Pentagram City where all the clothing stores were located. Besides Alastor isn't here today to try any of your attempts to see his tail nor to play with his ears. After quickly getting changed, Angel led you to the stores he was talking about. And he sure was right, you found so many good clothes to your liking in many different styles. One thing hell didn't lack was good fashion, probably thanks to Velvette from the Vees.
Leaving the store now with a lot of bags in hand, Angel decided to pull you to his favorite > cheap yet delicious < restaurant as he called it. While looking around a bit, you couldn't help but notice a certain red-haired demon walking down the streets, alongside Rosie, as their arms were hooked together, laughing. You knew they were simply good old friends, yet you couldn't do anything about this weird feeling bubbling up in your stomach. Reaching your hand out, you softly tug on Angel's shirt, head hung low. "What's it, sweets? Ya suddenly don't seem so good." His hand softly raised your chin now to look at you, noticing your pained expression. "Are ya hurt?" Taking a good look at you to make sure you weren't visibly hurt anywhere. Raising your head again, your eyes on the two other demons, Angel's eyes follow yours before letting out a sight.
"I know they're only friends but.. I feel weird seeing them I don't even know why myself!" The bag you were holding dropped to the ground, before hiding your face in your hands. "Sweets, if you ask me that sounds as if ya're jealous.." Angel's hand softly patting your head now as you raise your head, eyes meeting his. "But.. That would mean.. And he would never reciprocate.." Tears were building up in your eyes, before you knew it Angel pulled you into a comforting hug, softly patting your head. "It's going to be okay sweets." Staying there for a good minute or two, before you calmed down again. What you didn't see was a certain dial eyes watching you, as Angel had his arms around you and your body against his chest.
Deciding to head back to the hotel for now, Angel said he would take you to the restaurant another time. Back at the hotel you for now decided to head back to your room for a little rest. The shopping bag is thrown onto a chair before flopping down on your bed. A sigh leaves your lips. The last few days really weren't the best for you and were slowly wearing you down.
"Say dear, I thought we had a deal of you not touching others~" A radio static voice suddenly sounded through your room, sitting up you looked around frantically, eyes stopping on a dark corner of your room. Red eyes watching you, a shadow figure beside them grinning at you. Before you could know it, your body was pressed to the bed with Alastor on top of you. "W-What do you mean!? Angel was simply comforting me! Besides you were also all over Rosie!" Thrashing around now, as you try to push Alastor off of you, but he was simply too strong for you. "Oh, so you're jealous sweetheart? Was that payback then?" Alastor head was lowered as he whispered those words into your ear making your eyes grow wide. "He was comforting me because I was crying! Which I by the way was because of you!" Staring into your eyes now, Alastor was at a loss for words. You were crying? Because of him on top of that? Before he knew it, he watched your eyes fill with tears again daring to flow over. Now he had fucked up this time.. Again.
"D-Don't cry! Dearest I'm sorry." Scooting off of you now, he sits beside you not really knowing what to do, he never had to deal with someone besides Niffty crying. And Charlie, but that was a different story. Your hands rubbing over your eyes now, trying to get rid of the tears. Before you knew it, the culprit of your tears grabbed your hand, leading it to his head. Alastor wasn't great with words to comfort you, but this was his way of trying to comfort you after screwing up, which you deeply appreciated. Looking up at him now, eyes red from crying, as your hand starts to softly rub over his ears. "I meet up with Rosie to ask her for advice on what to get you as an apology for last time." Pulling out a little box from his coat now, he hands it to you. Sitting up, you take the red box from his hands, opening it slowly. Inside was a gold necklace with a red pendant in a tear shape. "It's beautiful.." You were at a loss for words right now, you didn't think he would get you something like this as an apology. "Let me put it on you dearest, turn around." Moving yourself now that your back is to him, you softly move any hair out of the way so he can put the necklace around your neck. Hand reaching down as you take the pendant between your fingers. "Thank-" Your words were interrupted by a soft kiss being pressed to your neck, but as you turned around, Alastor was gone, and only caught a glimpse of his shadow disappearing. Hand reaching to the place you had felt him kiss. Did you only imagine that? No, he definitely kissed your neck.
The next day you wanted to ask Alastor about it, but he was nowhere to be seen, as if he was avoiding you, which made you a little bit sad. Did he regret it?
Till now you also were not able to accomplish your victory in this little game. Making yourself question if you were ever going to figure out if he had a little deer tail. Turning around now, you caught a glimpse of red hair disappearing, making you dart right after him. So he truly was avoiding you! Before he could close his door, you put your foot between the door and the doorframe. "Open the door, I won't go away!" It took almost a whole minute for him to open the door, entering the room, the door is closed behind you. Crossing your arms in front of your chest now, you turn around to face Alastor now. "Are you avoiding me?" Static radio error. "Of course not dear! Why should I?" He was obviously more than nervous to be talking to you right now. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because since yesterday you've been running away from me and not shown your face once?" Looking at him skeptically now, he tried to look composed as always with his smile, but you noticed how his smile was slightly strained and his hand clenched just a bit tighter around his staff. "If this is about the kiss and you regret it just say it please, I won't be mad at you." Your eyes were avoiding his now. Oh if only you knew it was the complete opposite.
"Listen dear, it's not that.. It's.. How do I say, rather the opposite? I have been feeling rather drawn to you, wanting to get closer but.. I don't quite know how to handle these emotions." For once Alastor looked nervous, something you had never truly seen on him, he seemed so unsure. Holding out your hand, waiting for him to perhaps take it, which he did. Eyes locked on your hands, as he was softly playing with your fingers, slowly linking them together. "Listen it's okay, take as much time as you need to figure this out okay?" A soft smile was on your lips now, trying to reassure and calm him, but it had quite the opposite effect on him.
"May I kiss you?" Blurting those words out without even thinking about it, both of you were staring at each other with blown eyes now. You question yourself if you heard correctly and Alastor questions his sanity by asking you this, was he completely going crazy now? "If you want to, I allow you to do anything you want, I trust you." Now this surprised him, he indeed wanted to try this but.. he had never kissed anyone before. Not while alive, and certainly not while dead. Slowly his hand lays on your cheek as he pulls you closer to him, angling your head so you are looking at him. Your hands softly grab onto the front of his coat, eyes closed to give him full control. Alastor could either take his time or pull away entirely, it was all up to him, you let him go at his own pace.
And before he knew it, he was leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. It felt different than he had imagined, it felt warm and comforting. It was a simple soft peck, nothing too spectacular, but for both of you, it was something special. When he pulled away again and you looked up into his eyes, you noticed movement behind him, your eyes lowering and noticing something moving under the backside of his coat. Eyes glancing with interest now, Alastor's eyes following yours to what you were looking at, a sigh leaving his lips. Before you knew it, Alastor was shrugging his coat off, his shadow hanging it somewhere in the room. And there it was, a fluffy deer tail, that was right now softly swishing from side to side, it was adorable. Alastor was a sight right now. His ears were pointed towards you, a blush over the bridge of his nose while his tail swished from side to side.
Reaching out your hand to touch his tail with sparking eyes, his hand stops yours as he watches you. "Once. It's different than my ears, one pat and that's it darling." Nodding in agreement, he turns around a bit as your hand softly pats over his tail once. It was soft just like his ears. Looking up with a smile now, his head was turned to the front, but his ears were turned to your direction, which looked super adorable. "Well since I was only allowed to pet your tail once, I would like to pat your ears again!" Smiling up at him innocently now, he exactly knew how this would end.
And he was correct, he was now lying on his bed with you, his head on your stomach as you were contentedly playing with his ears. Even though it would probably take a while till both of you knew how to call this relationship, you were more than happy that your one hand was busy patting his ears, and the other one was softly held by the red-haired man. You could get used to this.
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Taglist :
@mysticwitchcraftco @biromanticboba @yellowelectroslime
4K notes · View notes
kitkatscabinet · 7 months
Text
Don't feed him he'll come back (2)
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simon riley x neighbour! reader
summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.
word count: 1.3k
A/N: Simon's POV of events. Find part 1 here. Part 3 here 18+ nsfw themes
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Simon’s not entirely sure what to make of his pretty neighbour who fattens him up with their cooking and has a penchant for bad jokes that might outshine even him. From the moment he’d caught you staring with wide eyes he’d expected wariness, or outright fear, those were the typical responses. He hadn’t expected you to force a tray of pasta bake into his hands and then promptly disappear before he could get a word in. 
It’s a bit ridiculous, but the random act of kindness set his teeth on edge, enough that he’d even suspected foul play briefly. Hunger and logic eventually won out over his paranoia and Simon devoured the tray embarrassingly fast. He’s not quite sure how to face you so he simply leaves the tray outside your door and assumes that will be that. 
Except it’s not. For some reason you’ve taken it upon yourself to feed him, leaving an array of dishes from dinners to snacks. Apart from an initial note inquiring into allergies you adapt his diet on experience, taking note of what he does and doesn’t seem to enjoy. 
He doesn’t know how to get you to stop, nor does he really want you to. Not when he’s become entirely too reliant on you feeding him, eagerly awaiting each new dish with the excitement of a hyperactive toddler. 
Price says he’s got a crush, which is just absurd, the only thing he knows about you is your name. And that your left cheek has a dimple when you smile, and that you love your cat more than anything and that-
He doesn’t have a crush. 
Then the elevator breaks. It breaks with only you and him inside and instead of panicking like he expected, you only seemed mildly annoyed for a few seconds before you turned to him with a conspiratorial grin. “A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and… cola. Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”
Simon’s a little floored and it’s probably only his shock that prevents him from laughing because dammit, that was better than some of his. What shocks him even more is that you aren’t deterred from his silence. If anything, you seem to take it as a personal challenge and your eyes glint in determination. 
It’s both a mixture of the jokes and you’re adorable determination that finally pulls a chuckle from his lips and Simon will forever remember the way your face absolutely lit up at the noise. 
It’s not until he provides a joke of his own before ducking into the safety of his apartment that he briefly thinks Price may have been onto something. He staunchly pushes that thought away but then you start leaving jokes with the food and he has to admit he’s in a little bit of trouble. 
You wrangle his number from him (not that he resisted very hard) and then you wrangle him into your apartment and you make him watch as you flit around your kitchen in order to feed him. 
His next deployment comes at exactly the right time and Simon is prepared to spend the months away getting over you. Except this doesn’t happen because you send him a joke every day without fail, not even deterred when he rarely responds. 
You send a selfie of you and your cat and Simon stares far longer than is appropriate. He’s dreamt of you before, both innocently and not so. For some reason, the distance makes this worse and Simon wakes hard and aching for you more often than not. 
(Johnny walks in on him with his hand in his pants staring at a picture of you once and neither of them can look at each other for days. He thinks this is preferable to the shit-eating grins Johnny throws his way now.)
For the first time in his life, Simon’s desperate to get back from deployment to the empty apartment he barely considers his home. The empty white walls and space not seeming as depressing when he knows you’re waiting for him just across the hall. Waiting to fill the dark void in his chest that grows when he loses access to your smile. 
For the first time in his life, Simon doesn’t want to leave his apartment. Each time Price calls him away from your presence starts to weigh on his soul more and more. It’s getting harder and harder to stop being Simon, to put on the mask and be the Ghost when all he can think about is you. 
It all comes to a head nearly nine months after he'd initially met you. As much as he tries to ignore the way his heart sings in your presence and aches in your absence Simon can’t really deny how he feels about you anymore. 
You pull him from his dangerous train of thoughts when you plop down next to him on the couch. Not exactly a new move in of itself but even then he can’t help the way he shivers at the feel of your arm against his skin. 
If asked Simon wouldn’t be able to tell you a single plot point of the movie you’d put on, not when his mind was running a mile a minute and he was trying not to smell your hair like a creep. 
He tenses a little when you tip against him but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he can’t help but smile softly down at you as he watches you fall deeper and deeper into the clutches of sleep. Awe and adoration in his eyes as one of his hands lightly stroked your cheek, his other arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to his chest. 
You’d wormed your way into his heart months ago with all your stupid jokes and your insistence on looking after him. Not once had you ever asked for anything in return, you even seemed offended at the implication. 
He wasn’t stupid enough to let you in on his feelings, not when every time he left you could end up being his last. Simon had once accidentally caught you crying over your brother, a soldier like him, though not as lucky. Your brother was dead and buried and Simon saw the toll it took on you years later even when you tried to hide it. 
You were the sun. You were light and everything that was good in this world, saw the good in him, and Simon refused to be the potential reason that light was snuffed out. 
He wouldn’t do that to you. But Simon wasn’t completely selfless, so he held you in his arms as he slept, letting himself imagine a life where you could be together. A life where he got to come home to you and your stupid fat cat, his apartment no longer in use and he’d hold you just like this as you slept. 
This wasn’t that life, but Simon still let himself pretend it was, just for a little bit. Because Simon couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved you, was in love with you. And for that, he had to leave before he ruined you.
Tags: @cooliofango @innercollectivecomputer
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rizsu · 8 months
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ex-husband!gojo, who wakes up every morning to his disappointment. it's been well over a couple months, yet he still extends his arm to feel for you.
ex-husband!gojo, who still has your contact saved as his main emergency contact. he uses this to his advantage— ringing your phone with the excuse of being "too drunk to drive." it works. he isn't exactly high off his brain, but he has alcohol in his system.
ex-husband!gojo, who happened to spot you with another man. who is he? is he your friend? your lover? perhaps you met after the divorce? whatever the status is, it doesn't help to soothe his jealousy. it's not like he can walk up to you — you might issue a restraining order against him.
ex-husband!gojo, who finds himself at your doorstep. it's late, storming, and you're probably asleep. he doesn't move. mind set in chaos as he ponders whether he should leave or ring the bell. he wants to see you, but the look of disgust he might receive is something he isn't ready to face.
ex-husband!gojo, who's shocked that you opened the door. he didn't ring the bell. were you already there? probably. his throat ran dry, unable to speak a word. you're leaning on the door's frame, arms crossed as you tilt your head. "you need something, gojo?" you asked, not willing to receive an answer.
"can i — can i come in?" he stutters, a little shocked at the use of his surname. the little sparkle of hope that you continue using his first name has been dusted.
ex-husband!gojo, who's fidgety in your home. your silence isn't helping him relax. hell, he hasn't known relaxation ever since the divorce. "help yourself to the kitchen. sleep wherever, i'm going back to bed," your voice held no volume of softness. it was as if you were but a stranger, yet he refuses to let you become one.
"then, may i sleep in your room? on the floor, of course," he's hesitant with his request, deciding it's best to justify himself, "i don't know my way around this house."
ex-husband!gojo, who's yet again stunned that you allowed him in your room — let alone your bed. now he's as still as a stick, unable to fall asleep due to his itching urge to pull you into him. you're most likely sound asleep, uncaring to the man you once called your husband.
ex-husband!gojo, who calls out to you, keeping his voice low as he speaks, "can we talk?"
you replied to him, voice still holding its tone of harshness, "what is there to talk about?"
"anything. how's life been for you?" he keeps his speech short, afraid of annoying you. it's a little late for that, however. you're already annoyed by the attempt of useless talks. "just get to the point, gojo."
and so he follows, sighing before he reveals his intentions, "i fucking missed you, that's all."
ex-husband!gojo, who's surprised when you sat up. although your room holds no light due to the black-out curtains, his eyes adjusted to its darkness, being able to see your every feature. your face, hands, neck, collarbone, chest — everything. he misses being able to run his hands through your body ever-so lovingly. when you lowered yourself right above his face, his eyes kept your gaze. your jaw's clenched. why does he look as if he lost everything? wasn't the divorce mutual?
ex-husband!gojo, who's rendered speechless when your voice cracked. he didn't expect it, nor did he expect you to say what you did. "i missed you, too." did you really miss him? he feels as though he's being lied to. raising a hand to cup your cheek, he shares his words, "really? then why not act on it if you're not lying?"
ex-husband!gojo, who happily accepts your kiss, moving his hand from your cheek to your nape. softly pushing you closer to himself — and to deepen the kiss. it's soft but rough. passionate but seeping with hatred. it's everything at once. you're pulling at his hair, purposefully tugging it as if you're using it to distract yourself from the escaping emotions. he's the same. using his other hand to travel along the junction of your neck and shoulder, squeezing it each time he feels to let the tears flow.
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hotvintagepoll · 21 days
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Propaganda
Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?
Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Hedy Lamarr:
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The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!
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Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)
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Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous.
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One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more.
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Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part.
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Marilyn Monroe:
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She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.
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That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot
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I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package
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She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!
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She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!
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no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot
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People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold
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It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?
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What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.
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pynkfairyheart · 1 month
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pairings: Onyankopon x black reader
warnings: Jean slander, smut 18+
Need you
“And then the bitch scoffed and rolled her eyes like I didn't just apologize. I need to find a new place asap cause I swear next time she try me Imma fuck her up- “
“What I tell you bout cussing?” Ony’s deep voice filled the room, dark eyes piercing into yours as a warning.
“Anywaysss” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the side eye he was giving. “You’ve been awfully quiet since I came over. What’s going on?” You put your freshly manicured feet in his face.
“Nothing you’ve just been yapping the whole time.” He smirked.
“Rude” You gasped, nudging him with your toes.
“Nah I'm just chillin’. You know I like listening to you talk.” He shrugged, placing your legs into his lap. Lighting the blunt he just rolled, a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he took a hit.
“Whatever” You smiled as he passed it to you.
You and Ony often had moments like these, a smoke sesh usually spent with you talking about your week as he massaged your feet. Your relationship with Ony was…complicated. Ever since Sasha introduced you two, y'all were inseparable, constantly getting mistaken for a couple, and who could blame them?
Most thought this because Ony always had to be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder, or a tight grip on your waist. However, for some, it was how you two would always disappear during the function. Claiming you were only talking, but the slight sheen on Ony’s lips and your slightly ruffled clothing told otherwise.
You weren’t quite friends with benefits. At least that's what you told yourselves. The whole ordeal just kinda happened. You were stressed over your midterms and Ony of course offered to help you study. Though after hours of reading flashcards and practice tests, you were still stressed and on the verge of tears when Ony offered another way to help you. That night you ended up with your legs in the air as Ony sucked the soul out of your pussy. Ever since then any inconvenience one had, the other would do their best to help relieve the stress. Your roommate upset you? Ony fed you long deep strokes, pampering you with soft kisses while he whispered in your ear. Ony was pissed that his supplier flaked on him? Ony would have the tightest grip on your hips as he drilled into you from behind, claiming the waves of your ass hypnotized him into forgetting what he was upset about. Some days neither of you needed an excuse. Some days you just craved each other.
Despite your unique relationship, you remained friends allowing the other to do what they pleased, though neither you nor Ony slept with or saw other people. Your dynamic was good and worked for both of you. That was until you started seeing Jean.
“You n that nigga Jean still fuckin around?” He broke the silence, waiting for your answer as your eyes met his.
“Ony” You groaned, the tight grip he had on your ankles preventing you from moving.
“What? I can’t ask you questions now?” He kissed his teeth, putting out the blunt.
“No, because any time you ask about Jean we end up getting into an argument and I’m really enjoying my time with you right now. So no, you cannot ask.”
“Whatever. I’m just tryna figure out when you gon stop playing in my face nd be with me instead of his bitchass.”
“Onyankopon '' You shrieked. You never understood why Ony hated Jean till a few weeks ago when Ony drunkenly confessed his feelings. At first, you thought he was joking but the look on his face told you otherwise. For a minute, you were happy. Ony was everything you had wanted in a boyfriend and you two had practically been in a relationship just without the labels. It wasn't till Jean texted you that you got upset. Why confess his feelings when you're finally in a relationship? Deciding it'd be best to forget about it, you put Ony to bed, hoping he'd also forget about his confession. Clearly, you were wrong.
“What? I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying as fuck, and I'm pretty sure he has 4 brain cells. Maximum.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Jean. “Why won't you give me a chance when I'm the one for you?”
“We've talked about this Ony.” You sighed. Conversations like these were becoming frequent and they were so tiring.
“No mama you've talked nd I've listened.” You thought about it, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Silently praying this wouldn't end up in an argument you gave him a chance.
“Okay. I'm listening.” You whispered.
“C’mere,” He released your ankles.
“Ony I’m not gonna-”
“[☆]” The dominance in his tone had you clenching around nothing.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. The moment you sat on his lap you just knew how it was going to end.
“Why you with him instead of me? And don't feed me no bullshit” His large hands were rubbing up and down your thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy that desperately ached for him.
You tried and you tried but there wasn't any good reason as to why you were Jean. Sure he was cute but he had no idea how to make you feel special and overall just couldn't please you. In multiple ways. The main reason though was that he wasn’t Ony. He just asked first.
“I don't know, Ony” You finally sighed, looking everywhere but him.
Any discipline you had when it came to Ony vanished when his hand wrapped around your throat, the slight pressure on your carotid causing your brain to go fuzzy and your panties to get damp “Look at me”
“Be real. Please” Ony released his hold on your neck to grip your thighs.
“You had the longest opportunity to ask me to be with you but you never took the chance, yet when I'm finally in a relationship you suddenly wanna give up everything and take a chance to be with me and I feel like that’s not fair to me Ony.”
He rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. “You're right.”
"I did have that opportunity and always hesitated. I always assumed it would be just you and me, that you wouldn't pursue other relationships because of our bond. Since the day we met, I've wanted you. I know this is unfair and I'm so sorry princess, but I can't ignore my feelings any longer. Jean can't possibly be the man you want, the man you deserve. But I can. I promise to take the chance if you just give me another opportunity, and I'll do everything in my power to make you proud. You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the whole universe and I'm determined to be the person you need. I love you [☆].”
“Ony” you huffed, feeling as if all air was being vacuumed out of your lungs at his confession.
“Please. Lemme show you how much I love you.” He whispered, closing the distance that separated you. “Please” He captured your lips, his usual sweet taste with a hint of spiciness from the weed clouding your thoughts. Oh, how you missed this. Missed him. The kiss was intimate and familiar, the passion growing with each second. Ony’s hands roamed your body, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs before traveling to your ass, taking pleasure in the soft moan you let out, and using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. On instinct, your hips rocked down onto him.
“Fuck, baby. I missed you” He groaned, flipping you onto your back.
“Ony we can’t” You huffed, despite the wetness growing in between your thighs. God he looked so good. His muscles bulged as he took his shirt off, your eyes trailed down his torso, mouth watering at the prominent v-line peeking from his low sitting sweats.
“Do you want this? Yes, or no?” His tongue traced lazy patterns on your skin as he littered your neck with kisses.
“Ony I-”
“Yes or no [☆]?” He nipped on your earlobe, hand dipping below the waistband of your leggings.
“Fuck, Ony” his hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your thong, fingers slipping through your folds. Gathering your arousal before circling your clit in tight circles. “Yes, please”
“Then shut up and lemme show you how much I love you” He murmured as he undressed you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he lapped at your folds like a starved man, his tongue repeatedly flicking your clit. “Missed you so fucking much. Don't ever give my pussy away again. You hear me?” He muttered, sliding two digits past your entrance. The action was easy with how wet you were.
“Ony” Your thighs threatened to close around his head.
“Answer me or I'm stopping” He slowed his movements, leaving you needy.
“It's yours. I'm yours pa, I promise” Your legs shook as he continued to give you slow strokes, the addition of another finger having you seeing stars. “O-Ony wait” You panted, attempting to push his head away but he refused to let up on your pussy, never wanting to stop till he and his couch were soaked in your essence as he lapped at your clit.
“Ony I’m so-fuck I'm so close” Your words encouraged him to speed up as he repeatedly hit the spongy spot of your walls. “Ony” Your walls clenched around his fingers, leaving little room for his fingers to continue as you reached your peak.
Despite your thighs tightening around his head he continued his assault on your pussy. It wasn't until he was finally satisfied with slurping up your arousal, that he pulled away pressing gentle kisses on your throbbing clit as he pulled his soaked fingers out of your walls.
“Missed you so much” He mumbled, giving you the nastiest kiss ever, your arousal all over his lower face.
“I missed you too”
“Yeah?” He grabbed your hips, positioning you on all fours.
“Ony” You whined, pout forming on your lips as you looked back. His dick standing tall now that it was no longer confined. God, please let me have feeling in my legs tomorrow.
“I know you ain't think I was done. You played in my face and let another nigga hit and think I'm not finna put you back in your place? Nah, both you and this pussy need a reminder of who you belong to” He slid his dick through your folds, your cream acting as lube.
“Matter a fact” He lined up at your entrance just as your phone started ringing ‘Jean baby’ flashing on the bright screen.
“Lemme show this nigga too.”
first time ever writing smut nd even though it was short it took me foreverrr but i think it turned out okay. also so sorry for all my Jean girlies out there lol. anyways i hope you enjoyed nd any feedback is greatly appreciated. mwah
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jinuaei · 2 months
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Alastor x Fallen Angel! Reader
Accidentally getting 'married' to Alastor
Part 2
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You fucked up.
You don't know what you did but you know you fucked up somewhere. One moment you were in heaven doing something, the next you see a red sky in front of you. The feeling of air rush behind you as you finally realize that you were falling, the smell of something burning and rotten eggs surrounding you as you fall deeper and deeper to your demise. Or what you thought was your demise, what you instead fell onto was a roof that momentarily broke your fall, before face planting to the ground. That wasn't graceful of you.
Groaning in pain you try to sit up before a sharp burning sensation spreads through your back, at where your wings was supposed to be. The sound of dripping enters your ears and your vision is blurry when you try to open your eyes, you can only see blobs of colours and the most prominent one was red as well as... Gold. Pupils dilating, your eyes finally take in the view in front of you. White feathers fall around you as golden blood seeps into your white clothes, the pain, you realise came from your wings, getting ripped apart and burning off when you fell. You try to decipher where you're currently at, from what you see, you seem to be in an alleyway, behind you is a dumpster covered in your blood and feathers, following the trail of blood you see the roof you hit when you were falling.
You hypothesize where you're supposed to be, with how adamant Heaven is in teaching angels not to do any sins nor question the higher ups, its kind of impossible not to know what will happen to those who defy heaven as well as where they will go. A pentagram encompassing the whole red sky, the scent of sulfur, blood, and brimstone flooding your senses, with this in mind you now know where you are.
"I'm in hell..."
"Yes you are, my good fellow!"
Startled, you scream and cover your head in hopes of protecting it.
"Well that's quite rude! You're not supposed to scream bloody murder when someones trying to be friendly you know?," his voice was odd, staticy, akin to an old radio.
You sheepishly drop your hands down to your lap and look up at the man in front of you. He's quite the tall demon, dressed in red... well actually everything about him is red, save for the black accents in his outfit and ends of his hair. Speaking of hair you keep glancing up at the tufts of hair attached to his head, and if you look closely, the antlers hidden behind his fluffy bangs. Is he supposed to be a deer? That's actually really cute.
"Erm... Sorry, just I was just surprised someone popping out from nowhere," you reply, hands fidgeting with one of your broken feathers.
Eyeing the golden blood and the broken wings behind you, the demon grins, showing off his sharp yellowed teeth. Nevermind that's TERRIFYING.
"Now what's an angel doing in hell? Not to mention a bleeding one! How tempting," he licks his teeth, already thinking about how delicious your angel meat would be.
Something tells me that this demon is NOT here to help. Now think! Make something up so you wont get killed by this red deer thing!
"I'm your spouse assigned by heaven!," you blurt out, not even thinking properly due to the fear of death.
Both of you froze as you stare at each other, one with horror, and one with disgust.
"And why do you think I would believe that?," sneering, he starts to creep closer and closer.
"Because... That's the reason why I fell! How can I meet my husband if I'm in heaven and you're in hell? I was so eager to meet you that I turned myself into a fallen angel just to be with you!," you smile widely, desperately trying to convince him.
He raises an eyebrow at that, mulling over whether you're telling the truth or not. Even if you are lying it'll be good to have a fallen angel on his side, and it'll be quite hilarious seeing the expressions of the hotel staff reacting to you being his spouse.
"If I am your fated one, what's my name? Surely heaven must have given you my name at least?"
Oh Gabriel's trumpet he got you there. "Alastor...?," unsure, you gave out a random name. If you're wrong, hopefully he kills you quickly.
...
"Hm. Perhaps you truly are who you say you are. Forgive me for being quite rude earlier, it's unbecoming from your husband to be." Holy cow you are lucky. You breathe out, the nerves simmering.
"Come on then let's get you cleaned up! What kind of husband will I be if I don't provide for you my dear?," he grabs your hand and leads you somewhere. His shadow cleaning up all the blood and feathers in the alley.
Now that's out of the way... What the fuck did I do to become a fallen angel???
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ghostbsuter · 9 months
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The house of Nightingale & Constantine ( P. 1 )
> next part
.・゜-: ✧ :-
You know, when Batman reassured him (was it tho? His way of using words is a bit... confusing.) of bringing in a third person for their common problem, Phantom, Danny, didn't press nor worry.
He regrets it now, just a little bit.
Dick liked Danny.
The small guy has been an absolute delight!
(He isn't grinning when he and Damian duke it out, doesnt watch fondly when Danny and Jason exchange the most weirdest ways of insulting someone or when He and Steph gossip, Cass sitting behind him with her hands in his hair.)
(He can see from the corner of his eye the way Tim hides a grin behind his hand, texting Danny someone rapidly and their Guest laughing at random times, the way even Duke, despite wearing the sunglasses, seems to warm up pretty quickly to their new brother friend.)
(It's doesn't help that he has black hair and blue eyes either.)
Danny has been living with them for some time now, temporarily as it may be, and grew on them all pretty quickly.
Bruce told them when Constantine arrived at the cave, seemingly irritated for unknown reasons, and they all were ushered to the elevator.
There is no noise as they arrive, Danny few feet off the ground and engaged on a hot topic with Steph as they go down the stairs.
The moment Constantine is in sight however, has their resident ghost snapping out of the conversation and zooming in on the man from afar.
It's kind of funny? The way his black hair fluffs up like in a Ghibli Movie, the way his eyes narrow to slits, glowing a faint green.
Many shout in alarm at the sight of agitation (?), Dick sees Constantines own eyes glow a eery gold??
It's like two cats staring down one another, a showdown.
(Someone should record this.)
The two meet down in the middle of the cave, Danny is bristling and John scowling.
"Really Bats? A Nightingale?" The blond man scoffs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat, hands roaming for cigarettes probably.
"Excuse me? I thought the line of Constantine died out back then, with the way you handle your stuff." The teen hisses back, a hand running through his poofed up hair.
"Hah!" The Hellblazer gives a mocking laugh, cigar already in hand and lit. "'With the way we handle our stuff'? Weren't the Nightingales out of commission not so long ago?"
The glow might have died out, but the tension only rose higher.
Danny turns to Batman, glowering.
"Asking for the help of the house of Constantine? Are you crazy? Those nutjobs have no self-preservation!"
John's eye twitches at the remark.
"No self-preservation, my ass. Nightingales do nothing but mess with stuff they shouldn't, talk about self-preservation when you have it yourself, pipsqueak."
And Danny? Danny growls.
"All you do is trick every being to do your bidding! One day all of this will catch up to your house and me? I will watch as it burns."
The blonds cigarette snaps in his grip.
"Burn? Me? Doesn't the house if Nightingales hunt the beings we 'trick'? It seems to me that your lineage is already going down as we speak."
The argument (?) continues and the batclan does nothing but watch as if its a particularly interesting tennis match.
(John looks like he's about 5 seconds away from strangling Danny and the teen about to bite off John's head.)
"What's going on?" Finally, Batman steps in.
"What's going on? What's going on?? You said you'd bring in a third person! Not a constantine!"
The bat shows no signs of anything really, when both teen and man whip around to face him.
"I thought you'd know better than to involve yourself with the house of Nightingales."
"I was here first! No take backs!"
"And yet I know bats longer, don't I, pipsqueak?"
"Foolish trickster!"
"Imprudent necromancer!"
(Apparently, beef between two houses of dark exists and they had the chance to experience it first hand.)
(This is one of the many occurrences.)
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ilycosy · 5 months
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why is the thought of luke stealing your underwear and keeping them in his cargo pants so hot to me??? i……
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it's so hot bc it's totally real n possible ,,, he wld definitely steal anything of yours that he can grab w/o anyone noticing !!
lukes the type of guy that def ends up getting caught eventually tho .. maybe on purpose
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luke castellan has always been the golden boy of camp— never mean nor out of place, just the right amount of confident and talkative. perfect in every sense, with his pretty face and natural hermes boy charm.
which is why he finds it so hot, the actual scandal of it all fueled his fucked up sense of self even more. he knows it's weird to do, but he chalks it up to his father as another thing he can hate him for. besides, who expects a hermes child not to steal?
at first it starts off simple, just little things of yours that you won't miss. pencils and random things you fiddled with for a week before forgetting about it, then it turned into shirts. the shirts served a double purpose really, slipping them over his pillow so he can cling to and pretend like you're together— and then the more obvious answer.
he honestly hadn't thought about stealing your panties until he saw the opportunity— well, maybe he did, but he didn't actually expect himself to do it. until he did. it was like he was on autopilot, grabbing something from your cabin for another person when he saw your bunk. the small laundry basket caught his eye, he knew that he had to have it.
he barely looked at them before they were in his hands, he only paused for a moment to feel the intricate lace before stuffing them in his pockets. he puts them in the pocket closet to him for easy reach, the fabric lump isn't even visible with how the pants are designed and he's never been more thankful for cargo pants until now.
throughout the day he can't help but feel them to make sure they're real every chance he gets, hands in his pockets idly while he's talking to people— even you. pretending like he doesn't know everything about what you're saying, he smiles and nods, occasionally rubbing the fabric and fighting back the blood rushing down his body.
but back to what i was saying abt him getting caught (on purpose)
luke has always been sneaky, you've known this ever since you started dating him. he's always planning and learning certain things about you that makes you wonder if he's stalking you (he is but shh pretend u don't know), but you just brush it off as him being a good bf and a hermes child.
which is why you almost second guess your eyes when you spot a pair of panties tucked under lukes pillow— at first you thought the worst, but when you got closer you felt your stomach drop and churn when you saw it was an old pair of yours. half in disgust, but also there was a deep coil of desire in you.
you don't mention it for a while, at first he just thinks that you didn't see it the first time— so he keeps leaving them under his pillow still.
he couldn't be so wrong. when he finally has a moment away from the prying eyes of young campers and the annoyance of the other counselors, he takes you to the cabin. pushing you down against the bed completely forgetting that he planted them under the pillow.
he's leaving wet open-mouthed kisses down your neck onto your chest when you reach up to grab them, hooking your finger around the thin waistband— you hold them up smugly like a trophy. "you still haven't hid them?"
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wonwoonlight · 6 months
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take a chance / jeon wonwoo
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Wonwoo x Reader // 1.7k words // nothing but fluff lol they're idiots
a/n: if you cant tell im absolutely insane abt this wonwoo. 100000% self indulgent and 100% not proofread as always ehe <3 v lowkey inspired also by niki - take a chance with me
He drives me crazy, it's so beyond me
How he'd look at me dead in the eye and stay unaware
Niki - Take A Chance with Me
[☆]
Wonwoo has never really been interested in romance.
When he was six and his friends started talking about girls were icky, he couldn't have cared enough to even think about girls in particular.
When he was fourteen and his close cousin who was practically his big brother told him about his first girlfriend, Wonwoo had simply nodded and congratulated him because the older guy looked like he was waiting for it even though he didn't get what's there to congratulate.
When he was seventeen and another cousin got married, he thought a little about what it'd be like to commit yourself for the rest of your life to another person.
Anyhow, now he's twenty seven and still pretty much free from the dating experience.
He just simply couldn't be bothered to try nor was he even curious enough to try.
There's too much risk. Too much things to do. Too many factors to think about. It's too complicated and Wonwoo has never been a fan of complicated.
Sure, the older he gets the more he understands about the attraction and whatnot. But the few dates that he has been on (which he could count with his two hands) was entirely due to his friends setting up with someone and his inability to say no the second time even though he did reject their so-called-help the first time around.
They eventually get the hint and stop setting Wonwoo up on a blind date.
He never sees romance as a necessity and he doesn't feel the need to have a partner, what is there more to say?
“I lost the floor 12 Abyss again.” You pout, half tempted to throw away the joystick in your hands. “I'm never playing this game again, I'm telling you.”
Wonwoo chuckles and tells you to move as he slides next to you, taking the joystick away and getting ready to restart your game.
“You just suck at this.” He teases, not minding your glare because he's way too used to it at this point. “And you say that everytime but here you are, still playing.”
“Shut up.” You pout, both impressed and unimpressed at the way he easily goes through the stages.
“Done.” He grins, all nine shining stars looking back at you.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
“I do!” You take back the joystick from him and close the window. “You don't even play this game! This is bullshit!”
He laughs under his breath and ruffles your hair, saying something about how he can't help being good at it.
You like that side of Wonwoo, as you often tell him, because people have always said that Wonwoo is quiet–that he doesn't talk a lot and it could be awkward being left alone with him.
And whilst it's not entirely untrue and you've been there too, you also know that Wonwoo is much more than his lack of words.
Wonwoo talks a lot once he's comfortable. You just need to be very patient and understanding about his silence before he gets there.
You… have been plenty patient, amongst other things.
You're patient enough to get where you are even though you've never imagined you'd get here.
Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to be comfortable with you that he doesn't mind inviting you over to his place with no other companies.
Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to not mind the fact that you like him and not act weird about it.
Here, meaning being close with Wonwoo despite the fact that you've confessed to him about your feelings but you're still here in his place, right next to him with not a single air of awkwardness between you two.
Turning off the Playstation, you settle on Wonwoo's sofa and decide to scroll through Instagram instead. You sigh, catching his attention, and when he asks you what's wrong, you simply shake your head no.
“What are you sighing about this time?”
This is something that people don't know about Wonwoo either: he prods when it comes to people he cares about.
Granted, he does it exactly three times to see if the other party would relent by then. He does that because that's how he is, he once tells you, because he rarely opens up at the first question but eventually cracks on the third time. That, by the third question, he's already had enough time to consider whether or not he really wants to talk about it.
“Nothing important.” You try to reassure him. “Just silly stuff.”
Wonwoo looks at you pointedly, but you simply smile and turn back to your phone, which he supposes means you don't feel like bringing it up just yet.
He closes his book and puts it on the coffee table, leaning closer to you to see what you're up to.
You wonder if Wonwoo knows what his action means to your poor, poor heart. If he's aware that, as much you said you're cool despite your confession, you still have romantic attractions towards him and confessing doesn't mean you're no longer affected by anything and everything he does.
After watching you go through your phone for a bit, it is quite easy for Wonwoo to realize what might be the core of your problem.
“You're thinking about why you're single again, aren't you?”
Your fingers freeze and so does your entire body, and Wonwoo would've laughed at how surprised you look right now, but he knows you're actually bothered by this problem from time to time though he doesn't exactly understand why.
And for someone who's observative and quite sensitive when it comes to things around him, Wonwoo can be a bit dense, still.
On what kind of universe does he think this topic would be okay to talk about with someone who literally confessed to you and somewhat got rejected though not explicitly?
“I don't want to talk about it.” You whine despite the fast beating of your heart. You honestly don't think you have it in you to talk about this with Wonwoo. At least not just yet.
“Why?”
You look at him, incredulous. “You know why.”
“Because you like me?”
You shrug, not wanting to deny it.
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, voice very gentle and careful.
“What?”
“I'm sorry if this sounds insensitive.” You press your lips together as he starts. At least, he has the conscience to know that. “But… what is it about being in a relationship that appeals so much to you?”
You pause before you answer, wondering what to say. “Do you want me to actually answer that?”
“If you don't mind answering.”
Wonwoo wonders if he makes you uncomfortable by asking such question. But if there's anyone he can ask about this, it can only be you. No one else would answer it in a way that he would understand. No one else would give him the sincerity that you'd give in your answer.
He feels bad knowing you like him and still asking you like this. But he supposes you're both close enough for that discussion, that he doesn't want to let your feelings get in the way of your precious friendship.
Perhaps he's selfish, but he doesn't want to be too conscious when it comes to your relationship with him despite everything.
“I guess it's just the fact that someone's always there for you.” You start, not looking at him even though his gaze is locked at you. “That there's this person who… you can tell everything to, from your secrets to what you feel like eating today. That when you want to do something, you can always run to them first before wondering if anyone else is available. That–”
“But that's already how we are?” He cuts you off.
You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering if it's some kind of prank even though you know he's not that kind of person.
“That's already what I do with you.” He says one more time–more firm and somewhat determined with a hint of confusion. “Why do you think you're in my place so often?”
“I… I– I don't know? You're… bored? And I happen to be free?” You stutter a little, not used to the way he's staring at you.
“I am bored.” He agrees, things suddenly crystal clear in his eyes. “But I'm bored because I don't have you around. And I want you here. That's why I asked all the time if you're available.”
You open your lips to say something–anything, but nothing comes out because your heartbeat is ringing throughout your body right up to your ears.
“You're the only person I send those posts about places I want to visit because I want to visit with you. I don't send them to anyone else. I don't even like going out all that much.”
“I… I don't understand?”
“Are we in a relationship?” He asks rather bluntly, mixing all your feelings together with one single question.
“Wonwoo, I don't think this is how you should go around it–”
“Have we been dating all this time?” He asks one more time, not even seemingly nervous about it.
He looks at you like he's expecting an answer, but how are you supposed to answer that? You've simply been happy that you get to spend time with him. You didn't think for one second that he might be into you despite all the time he asks you to accompany him somewhere and all the time you're alone in his place.
“I've been too oblivious, haven't I?” He concludes by himself, your silence doesn't deter him at all.
He reaches for your cheek, and if he notices how warm your face is, he doesn't mention it. But he caresses the apple of your cheek as he looks at you with the gentlest reflection you've ever seen in his eyes.
“I'm sorry it took me too long.” He whispers, and you bite your lip so hard to hide your smile because you don't want to be too happy before anything's decided. You're not sure what he's trying to say, your head is spinning with thoughts and your heart is beating at an erratic rhythm. “Do you mind… letting me learn a bit more?”
“About what?” You whisper back.
“Being a good boyfriend?” He smiles when you do too, feeling warmth all over his chest at how shy you seem to be. “You know I've never done this before, right? Let me take a chance with you?
You finally let yourself grin at this, no longer able to control the happiness blooming within you at whatever this might mean.
And as you lean your face more into his palm, Wonwoo thinks he's ready to take all the risks that might come together with whatever the future has in store as long as he has you by his side.
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anantaru · 6 months
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more rich boy alhaitham pls🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽i love the concept and how u wrote it😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🖤
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cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, process of falling for you HARD, a little possessive again because I cannot help myself, rough sex & very messy
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whether you believe it or not, rich boy alhaitham has never been in love before— and the scribe thinks about one specific kind of love here, one you read about in books, one you can evidently witness between two strangers while crossing the street.
essentially, he was attractive and he knew it, a man blessed with extraordinary intelligence and talent, bringing to mind that he was exceptionally wealthy as well.
so, speaking from an outer perspective, those factors certainly couldn't be the reason as to why he was unlucky on finding his perfect match— in fact, no one could ever deny how greatly alhaitham was being admired by the people of sumeru.
or was he?
or perhaps, they really don't often pay attention to him, because you see, he doesn't want them to.
he purposefully keeps a low profile, with a veiled identity and ulterior purposes hidden right beneath, so that he could rest easy and indulge in a comfortable life— with his wealth continuously growing, yet no specific target on what to do with it, or on who to spend it on besides himself.
yes, it was true, he sometimes catches himself getting lonely.
but in spite of that, after he meets you it's different, because suddenly alhaitham finds himself in trouble without noticing how the feelings of love were already coursing through his veins.
how unnoticeable falling in love was, snap and it's over, it's astonishing how he just needed to get closer to you.
you swallow thickly, and it was foreseeable that you ended up in his bed again, it's on the point of each night that it ends the exact same way now.
both of you knew why you were sharing a bed again— lewd and lustful traces curving over the slopes of your body and stimulating your needs— how utterly interesting how fast someone's mind could simply switch off and decide that you were in love now.
just from a simple look, and alhaitham was yours.
and he never would've let this happen to himself— the stress on how to navigate through an emotion such as love, especially since there wasn't a rational answer behind the multiple explanations he read about in the past, nor could you buy real, pure love with money.
if it were for anybody at all, he would just brush it off or at least try, but you just had to be so cruel and invade his mind.
you feel his gaze on you now, and it's the way his breath tumbles over your parted mouth that you know he's done for— his tongue driving between your lips before lapping over your pink muscle as his hips leisurely push into you.
it drives alhaitham insane, no amount of money could even come close to this feeling of pleasure and genuine lust, it's like a heavy drug someone would grow addicted to in the twinkling of an eye.
you squeal when he bites down on your bottom lip, your trembling frame teetering on the edge of a rapid sensation while every slap of skin turns the bedroom aflame, until the pleasure goes straight to your puffy clit, overflowing your belly with butterflies.
a burning pressure pricks at your spongy walls as his cock repeatedly crowds you, giving your hips a good squeeze as alhaitham presses you back into his length, making sure you're taking him all at once.
your arousal was clinging to his toned abs and turned the view before you all the more sinful, your soft pussy glistening with your slick and his pre when he uses it as a natural lubricant to make it pleasurable to the both of you, hitting your aching spots just like that.
alhaitham can hear how much you're enjoying this and he hopes he doesn't give away how much he has been enjoying this as well. of course, it's much more evident in your case, precisely from the way your moans trembled and your hips stuttered and flinch into his dripping dick, your body attempting but ultimately failing to meet his thrusts half way as you're struggling to find any strength to lift your hips up.
alhaitham sees it's too much for you by now, he can also feel it in the way you're clamping around the base of his erection with dripping heat, until he was all soaked and wet in your oozing arousal.
needless to say, the wealthy man placed a mental note into the deepest depths of his brain for later— to, as one might expect, treat you to a glorious shopping spree with a luxurious dinner waiting for you afterwards.
basically wherever you wanted to go to, he would make it possible, because obviously he will make it happen just for you! and wether the feelings he was encountering right now were pure and good ..
.. alhaitham would do anything to keep you, and he won't ever lose you.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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loveindefinitely · 6 months
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༊*·˚ DO ANYTHING FOR YOU — how your boyfriends react to you getting assaulted at the pub
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featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish
warnings. f!reader, unwanted sexual advances, minor sexual assault, graphic violence, possessive/protective relationship, pre-established relationship, implied gaz/price, polyamory, mm, nsfw content, praise, body worship, oral
// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //
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The smell of cheap beer and even cheaper perfume isn't usually your cup of tea, but then again, neither are pubs in general.
Yet, here you are, squished into a booth with your teammates -- your family, really.
They had insisted that you all go out tonight, something about a celebration for the week off. You just saw it as an excuse to get drunk and hope for a lay, at least, for those not cuffed.
That being said, being single was becoming rarer and rarer for your crew.
"C'mon, cap," the man beside you groans with an eyeroll, his thick arm coming around to rest on the top of the booth behind your head. Slick bastard. "We ain't gonna tease you for it," he insists.
You shoot a knowing glare to your side, and you know that he sees it, cause his mouth quirks in the corners and his dimple shows. Just slightly.
"You're a shitty liar, Johnny," the man to your right huffs with an eyeroll. His skull balaclava is pushed up the base of his nose, showing just a hint of his stubble and scars.
The same stubble and scars that you've felt against your skin too many times to count.
"Ya love me," Soap shrugs with a cheeky grin, his arm moving closer to rest at the nape of your neck. The man's always been a furnace, no matter where you were, or the climate. Hell, when you guys had been stationed in mid-winter Russia for a bit, you and Ghost had clung to him like fucking koalas.
"And look where that's gotten me," Ghost responds with a mutter, gaze harsh with a teasing glint.
"Just because you kids got lucky doesn't mean I will," Price says with a sigh, resting his forehead in the palm of his hand. "I've been out of the scene for... what, six years? More?"
You quickly check to see if Gaz is still at the bar grabbing you all another round, and when you do, he catches your eye. He quickly waves you over, head motioning towards the drinks at the bar. You get the message immediately.
"You guys have your boy talk," you tease, scooting past Soap where he sits, his large frame brushing against your ass and back no matter how hard you try to avoid him. "I'm gonna go help the man of the hour with the drinks."
Soap's hand rests at your hip as you finally escape the narrow confines of the booth, and you shoot him a chastising glare. He retorts with a smug little grin. Grabbing you by your nape, he scoops you in for a quick, chaste kiss on the corner of your lips.
"I'm not leaving," you say on an amused huff, to which Ghost gives you a softened look.
"Fuckin' co-dependent, the both of you," he says gruffly, but the love and adoration is a nice undertone. One you and Soap have grown to notice after months of practice.
With one more quick kiss to your lips, Soap lets you go, the sound of your booth quickly fading away as soon as you fall into the crowds of people.
Considering that it's a Friday night, the place's packed -- you guys had been lucky to score a booth.
Making your way to Gaz, spotting his head of hair, you find yourself pulled into the arms of a stranger. Confused, and head slightly light and cotton-filled due to the rounds you'd had before, you try and wrestle out of the man's grip.
He's strong, however, and you had not dressed for any type of combat. Nor were you in the right state of mind for it.
"Excuse me," you say, voice straining to remain calm and polite. "Could you please let me go?"
The man chuckles, and the sound grates on your skin the way that a snake would slither down your spine. "Love, you were practically beggin' for some attention," he breathes into your ear, breath warm and liquor-laced. "Don't go actin' a prude now."
You shove against his grip, eyes squeezing tight when his hand goes up to fondle at your breasts. He's rough, entirely disgusting about it, and you feel bile rising in your throat.
Heels. You were wearing heels. While the man is distracted with his groping, you raise your right foot, and then slam it down on his. Luckily, the guy was wearing some thin sneakers that allowed for the harsh pain that followed.
"Fuck!" The man seethes, hand moving away from your tits to instead cradle his foot as he hops on his left leg. "Fuckin' skank, you're gonna --"
The man stills, words stopping short when a large, gloved hand wraps around his neck from behind. "Gonna what? Finish your sentence."
Ghost stands behind the man, voice loud in the suddenly hushed pub, even when he grinds the words out by the man's ear.
You feel the familiar and comforting frame of Soap as he gently pulls you into his chest, body tensed and ready for bloodshed, yet soft as he cradles the back of your head and plants a soft kiss to your hair.
"Go ahead. You were so ready to yell at her, so do it. Speak up," Ghost taunts, his voice cold and devoid of the warmth that it had mere minutes ago. It sends a shiver down your spine.
Whimpering, the man instead begs for forgiveness. Spineless piece of shit. He blabbers, tears rolling down his cheeks as Ghost intimidates him, all while Soap holds you with tender touches and comfort.
"We got him," Price's voice cuts through the man's blubbering, his tone that of a Captain who was all too used to cleaning after his subordinates' messes.
"Don't do anything we woul'n't," Soap says, his voice hinting at humour. It allows a soft, albeit small, smile to creep onto your face.
Gaz shoots him his own cheeky look in return.
You doubted that the man would see the light of day again. Either because of a loss of eyes, or a loss of heartbeats.
Price and Gaz lead him out of the pub, the door ringing shut behind them. The crowd instantly turns to keep to themselves, cheering and conversation returning at full volume.
"Princess," Ghost is quick to stand in front of you, blocking out the rest of the world as he holds your face in his hands, gaze examining. Whatever he sees makes him relax a bit, his gaze flitting up to Soap to check over him too. He was always the most protective one -- the bodyguard in your relationship.
It never failed to get you going, and even after the event that had happened, you find that that fact is still accurate.
"'M okay," you say, gripping Ghost's wrists softly and bringing them off of your face with a tentative smile. "He's gone. 'M safe."
Soap's head moves to nuzzle into the side of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin where you stand. You tilt your head slightly to allow for easier access, and he accepts the offer gladly.
"Home?" Soap asks, voice muffled by your heated skin as he continues to place lovebites all over your neck, shoulder and collarbone.
Ghost gives one sharp nod, before grabbing your hand and gently pulling you along to the front door. Soap reluctantly moves away from your skin, his arm sliding around your waist as the three of you make your way out into the crisp night air.
It bites at your warm skin, allowing you to sober up just the slightest bit. Enough for you to realise how safe you felt between your two men -- how comfortable and protected.
Luckily, the bar you all frequented was a mere ten minute walk from your apartment, so the three of you managed to make it through the front door in no time.
"Lemme get your heels." Soap is quick to kneel as he delicately unfastens the buckle around your ankle, taking them off with the same amount of care one might use in heart surgery. He presses a kiss to your inner ankle, and then trails his mouth to the tops of your thighs.
Ghost's chest presses against your back, his gloved hands tracing along your bare forearms, then over your shoulders with light caresses. Your eyelids flicker at the attention from both of your lovers, the feeling unlike anything else in the world.
He makes quick, yet cautious, work of unzipping your dress, letting it pool to the ground as they both let out small groans at your undergarments.
Their favourite lingerie adorned your body, and what were they but weak, whipped men?
"Let us take care of you," Ghost grunts, nose brushing against the skin behind your ear. "Worship you, Princess."
You let out a breathy sigh at that, nodding almost immediately. You weren't sure if you could deny either of them anything when they treated you like you were something precious. Like they adored you with everything you had.
They both guide you to your bed, their hands never wandering far from your body as they gently lay you back on the sheets.
"Fuckin' beauty," Soap groans, groping and fondling your thighs like a man who'd never get to feel them again. His eyes meet yours, his ocean-blue darkened with lust and need. "Prettiest fuckin' thing I ever saw, Baby."
Your head falls back, lips opening in a gasp as he lowers his head to kiss against your inner thighs, lips brushing your sensitive skin. He's meticulous about it, savouring the experience.
"Eyes on me," that familiar, deep, dominant voice calls to you. You open your eyes, Ghost pulling off his black compression shirt with one hand, all while his dark gaze tracks every movement you make. It's taunting, making you delirious with lust and want and desire.
"She's so fuckin' wet for you, Si," Soap says on a deep moan, moving your lacy panties to the side to inspect your pussy. His finger trails lightly over it, a teasing touch, that has you clenching despite yourself.
Ghost's heated gaze directs to the man between your legs, appraising. "Tell me what she tastes like," he says, and Soap groans deep in his chest from those words alone. "If you're both good, I'll taste it from your mouth."
Without another thought, Soap dives in, enthusiastic and desperate. You whimper, whining at the sudden attention to your clit and pussy. He's rough about it, not nearly as careful as he had been mere seconds ago. He takes, and takes, so relentless in his motions that you grind against his face, his hands gripping onto your thighs.
Ghost's hand lands in his hair, pushing him in further to your core. You and Soap both let out identical moans at the action, Ghost's gaze focused on the both of you.
"You two," Ghost says, eyes encompassed nearly fully by his iris. "Mine. My fuckin' pets."
"Please," you moan out, hips frantic where they ache for more pleasure. "Fuck, Si, Johnny, feels too good, fuck."
"Yeah?" Simon tilts his head, only slightly mocking. "Like all that attention? He's sloppy, ain't he?"
You nod incoherently, Johnny's relentless attack at your clit and hole leaving you entirely too wound up. Your moans come out louder, needier, raspier, until you're falling apart, falling off of that cliff of pleasure that you had climbed.
"Good, such a pretty pet," Simon's hand pets at your hair, tone comforting and affectionate. Prideful. "Our good girl, huh?"
Johnny finally -- finally -- moves off of your pussy, entire bottom half of his face glistening with your essence. His gaze is completely lust-drunk, hazy in a way that mirrored your own experession.
"Si," is all he says, grabbing the taller man by the scruff of his neck and pulling him into a devouring kiss. You can visibly see their tongues fucking each others' mouths, passionate and wanton. When they pull apart, they both direct their attention to you.
"Ready, Princess?"
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a/n. first ever work in this fandom and the first smut i've written in nearly a year! hopefully this isn't completely awful. if you enjoyed, pls pls pls reblog, follow, like, comment, or whatevs!!!! tytyty &lt;3
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kzpearce · 1 year
Text
A LOST KID CALLED YOUR BOYFRIEND “ DADDY ” !!
ft. k. ayato, alhaitham, tartaglia, heizou, k. kazuha, scaramouche, tighnari, diluc, kaveh.
note. no pronouns mentioned (but quite focused with female reader. worry not, it's not obv tho hopefully). quite suggestive to childe and heizou.
your fav characs might be here in part two!
author's note. i posted this two or three days ago but i got shadow banned for some reason (maybe i had too tags?) i don't know how tumblr algorithm works because i'm quite new here ;( anyway i hope you enjoy this !! additional note; this was inspired from a specific event of tears of themis where this little girl was lost and called the four men their "daddy" !!
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— kamisato ayato.
“hi sweetie,” the child opened her arms as she ran towards your boyfriend with a huge smile on her face. ayato hefted her with a sweet smile on his face (you were frowning, but you couldn’t help your stomach explode with butterflies).
“everything makes sense when a ‘single’ man is so hardworking.” you rolled your eyes as you whispered sarcastically (ayato managed to hear you though).
“this is our baby,” he whispered to you with a wink, planting a quick kiss on your cheek.
“are you lost, baby girl?” ayato asked the little girl like he didn’t do anything that made your face turn into a tomato. 
your boyfriend can be a very great father to your future children one day. 
— alhaitham.
both of your eyes widened when you saw the little girl hugging your boyfriend with a smile on her lips. the little girl kissed your boyfriend’s cheek multiple times, she looked very happy to see her dad.
you bit your lower lip, preventing yourself from laughing too hard when you saw alhaitham’s priceless look. however, it was becoming a hard task to do, hence you covered your mouth with your hand. “i’m not informed, alhaitham.”
“i’m not a big fan of kids unless it’s ours,” he remarked. 
you laughed (ignoring the fact he might want to have kids with you), “help the child, haitham!”
— tartaglia.
ajax started hugging the little girl with love too. you rapidly blink at the sight, questioning if he was really the father of the child or someone close..? 
“not mine, baby.” he grinned as if he read the thought running in your mind. “the guardian or parents must be here somewhere.”
you and ajax didn’t really think nor talk about it until the child’s mother was found not too long after. your eyebrows furrowed to childe, waiting for him to answer the questions you wanted to hear. however, he just shrugged yet with a mischievous smirk curved on his lips.
“too bad. it would be hot if you were the one who called me daddy though.”
“archons, ajax!” 
— heizou.
“the kid must have had a traumatic experience, and it seemed like i looked like her father,” heizou thought thoroughly. 
“yeah, yeah, hot detective.” you rolled your eyes with a grin. “what if it was really your child?”
heizou shrugged. “you haven’t even felt how big my-”
“okay, shut up, you dirty ass gross.”
he laughed his ass off.
— kaedehara kazuha.
“who would’ve thought that you’ll have a child, kazu.” you blinked while watching him. the child gave kazuha quite a lot of affection. she must have been missing her father to be this clingy to kazuha.
“impossible. i’ve never been in love before, until you.” kazuha sighed. his eyes stare at the girl who had been resting in his embrace with a smile on her lips. he made sure she’s comfortable, thus kazuha was swaying her gently.
you watched them; the sight of kazuha taking care of a kid made you feel assured. you somehow saw a future with him.
“i’ve also never been jealous of a kid until now.” you rolled your eyes playfully while pouting.
kazuha chuckled, “my sweet dove, take it easy. you’ll be spoiled later with my affection.”
oh, he’s such a sweet angel.
— scaramouche (wanderer).
he rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose after the kid ran to him with a smile on her face. you wanted to maintain your composure and tried not to laugh when he can’t disregard the poor girl off him.
“can she just get off me?” he whispered like praying to the gods.
“you’ll be a bad father for our future children, kuni.” you smirked.
“is this even our child?” scaramouche barked.
you shrugged, unable to wipe the grin off your face. “maybe?” you teased.
he glared at you. 
“i’m just joking. but treat her like our child.” you winked.
scara had decided to give up with a sigh. he lowered himself until he reached the child’s height. “here,” scara said, handing a candy to her. you could see the happiness in the little girl’s eyes. “we’ll find your brother soon, okay?”
no words can explain how hard you fell in love with him after you saw what you saw.
— tighnari.
“we... don’t have a child, right?” tighnari asked, confused. he carried the child in his arms nonetheless.
you shake your head, “maybe you do have with someone else?”
“i can’t do that to you, (y/n).” he slightly frowned.
you grinned, “let’s help her then,” you kissed tighnari’s cheek. 
“why not on the lips?” he questioned. “are you mad?”
“there’s a kid, tighnari.” 
“kiss me,” he whispered as he covered the little girl’s eyes with his hand.
you obliged with a smile on your lips, pressing your lips on his. 
— diluc. 
“you have a child?” you tilt your head in confusion. “so unlikely of you.”
“i would stop running the dawn winery first before i shoot my sperm in someone else’s womb.” 
your jaw dropped. ignoring his dirty mouth, you focused on his word someone else’s. “so there’s someone else?”
“no,” diluc shook his head, staring at you with a slight grin on his lips. 
“how would i know you’re telling the truth?” you asked, challenging him.
“it’s going to be your choice to believe me or not,” he shrugged. “but just so you know, i would pass the ownership of dawn winery later tonight if you want me to.”
you kissed him, “of course i believe you.”
— kaveh.
“let’s adopt her?” kaveh grinned after he hugged the lost girl.
“you fool, that’s someone else’s child. unless it’s really your child?” you playfully glared at him.
“it’s not mine, but we can make it ours.” he smiled.
“kaveh, she’s lost.” kaveh grabbed her little hand. “would you hold their hand for me too, sweet girl?”
your eyes widened at his request to the little girl. the little girl nodded and held your hand together with his. she was between you and kaveh, holding your hands with hers. the three of you looked like a family.
“are you hesitating now?” kaveh smirked.
i'm sorry if this is quite short to some! i'll still think if i should decided to make another part for the other characters or make a new one!
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luveline · 5 months
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hi lovely!! you mentioned bombshell!reader holding spencer's hand the whole time after the whole tobias incident and i wanted to request a more in-depth continuation of that, if it's alright? maybe with reader helping spence with his addiction afterwards too bc i just hate how the team didn't support him properly during that time 😭
There's something cold touching his hand. Actually, there's lots of things happening to his hand. 
Spencer fights to open heavy lashes, closes them again when the white hospital wall bathed in early morning sun burns his retinas. Alert, he realises that the hand in his is sweetly soft, with gentle fingertips holding his marriage finger up higher than the rest. You're playing with his hands while he sleeps.
Spencer opens his eyes again. There's no machine taking his observations, no beeping or whistling or medical ringing to be heard, just the soft huff and puff of your breathing and the sound of your heel tapping the floor. 
There had been more noise last time he woke, but the same amount of you. 
“Spencer?” 
He looks up from your hands holding his to your face. It's not fair, he thinks, how pretty you are, how pretty you continue to be, with your hair, your smile, your ever-smirking lips. You're doing it now, the sight of your painted smile squeezing his heart into a frenzied beating. If they were still taking his observations, he'd die from embarrassment. 
“Hey,” you say, still smiling, hands more insistent on his. 
“Hey. What are you doing here?” 
“What does it look like I'm doing, handsome?” you ask. 
“Did you go home?” 
“Of course I did.” You don't sound truthful. “Want a drink?” 
You pull a bottle of water from your handbag and pass it to him. He has to take his hand from yours to open it, and he wishes he'd said no. Spencer would happily go thirsty to prolong your touch and the security it brings with it. He's antsy as he swallows, a foreign-body feeling pervasive as he caps the drink, puts the bottle aside, and rubs the crust from his eyes. Lank hair falls into his face. 
“You okay?” you ask gently. 
“When can I leave?” 
“Tonight… They want to make sure you're, you know… properly weaned.” Your voice comes out quieter than he's ever heard it before. 
It's as forward as anyone's bothered being about the drugs. The drug, singular. 
Dilaudid is eight times stronger than morphine. Spencer was injected multiple times. His body won't be totally addicted, but he craves the numbness of it already. Whatever he's on isn't cutting through the pain in his legs and feet, nor the memories of being tied up, and all alone. 
“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he says. 
You grab for a blanket off of the edge of the bed to cover his lap as he hangs his head, sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't so much as heave. The nausea remains anyhow, and worsens as you sit beside his legs. Your hand once again takes his, fingers slotting together as though they were made for this one purpose, your voice a clean, cleaving thing, “Hey, it's alright. It's fine, Spence, you're okay. This is expected.” He curls in on himself. You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, tugging his hand closer to you in tandem. “You're gonna feel awful for a few days, but I'm right here.” 
“Why are you here?” he asks, confused. 
“Spence.” 
He looks up from under his lashes. 
Your semi-permanent smile seems to have gotten lost somewhere. “Spencer,” you say, attempting to say something without really saying it, eyes glued to his, “where else would I be?” 
He rubs the place between his brows with the heel of his palm. You keep his hand and wrap him in a careful hug. Either you don't notice how desperately he needs a hot shower or you don't care, gracing his cheek with a friendly (and unmissably loving) kiss. It's hard not to cry after that. 
“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you say. You weren't even on the case, but you'd showed up just as soon as you knew he'd been taken, and you haven't left his side since they found him in the cemetery. You don't have a thing in the world to be sorry for. “I'm so sorry. It'll be okay now.” Your voice ripples with surety. 
“Thanks for staying,” he says. 
“You did all the hard work by yourself.” You squeeze his fingers. “I can do the rest, babe.” 
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