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#like just because you might not be able to handle what it takes to be in an ldr doesnt mean i cant handle it
scoonsalicious · 2 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,
WARNING: THIS PART HAS A MAJOR THEME THAT SHOULD HAVE A WARNING, BUT I DO NOT WANT TO SPOIL THE PLOT. THEREFORE, IF THERE IS SOMETHING YOU FEAR YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO HANDLE, *PLEASE* DM ME FOR THE WARNING BEFORE READING!
Word Count: 1.7k
Previously On...: Uh... something went horribly wrong.
A/N: BUCKY IS BACK, and just in time <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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You weren’t sure what woke you up– the incessant beeping or the dull ache between your legs. 
“Ugh, Sam, turn off your fucking alarm clock,” you muttered, pulling your blanket above your head. When had the apartment lights gotten so hideously bright? “Sam’s not here, doll. ‘Fraid it’s just me.”
Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, and you slowly pulled the blanket down from your face. You were lying on a bed in the middle of a hospital suite, and Bucky Barnes was sitting in an armchair in the corner. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t done anything but worry and fret since arriving. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked him, fighting to keep your voice steady. You’d hoped time would have helped lessen the pain you felt at the sight of him, but no– he still tore at your heart.
“You never changed your emergency contact,” he said, getting up from his chair to sit at the edge of your bed. Lovely. You were going to have to re-traumatize yourself because you hadn’t been assed to update fucking paperwork. 
You rubbed your eyes with your hands. “What happened?” you asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Bucky said. He reached for you but you, but you pulled away, leaving him to frown at the space where your hand had been. “All they would tell me was that your distress beacon was activated, and when SHIELD operatives responded to your safehouse, they found you passed out in a pool of blood. They had you in surgery when I got here.”
“Surgery?” You began patting your body, searching for bandages or stitches, some sign of an incision, but you found nothing. “I don’t feel like I had surgery.”
Bucky shrugged. “That’s all they told me. Since I’m technically not family, they wouldn’t say anything more.” You scoffed. He was a lot less than ‘technically not family’.
“Well, I’m not dead,” you said dismissively, “so no reason for you to stay.” You shooed him away with a flap of your wrists. “Go on home now.”
Bucky snorted. “All laid up in the hospital and still, you got jokes,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. Sam called Steve on his way to the airport, told him what went down with A.J., so looks like you’re in need of a new mission partner.” The smirk behind his eyes was enough to make you sneer.
“No,” you said, crossing your arms, and you were sure you looked very intimidating in your hospital gown with an IV sticking out of your hand. “I’m good, thanks. Don’t need any help, especially not yours.”
Bucky rolled his eyes at you. “Always so stubborn,” he chided. “Doesn’t matter what you want, doll. Captain’s orders; I’m here to stay, at least until Sam gets back.”
Fucking wonderful. As if you didn’t have enough to worry about, with girls getting murdered, Hydra funding the Wiggle Room, you randomly bleeding out and collapsing, and poor A.J.’s condition still unknown. Maybe there was something so seriously wrong with you, they’d make you go back to the Tower to recover and Bucky would be forced to stay down here, alone. God, was that actually what you were hoping for, now? Your life had indeed gone to shit.
There was a soft knock on your door and a man in a white doctor’s coat and glasses entered, carrying a clipboard.
“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued: “I’m Dr. Carson; I’ve been attending to you during your stay with us. I’m glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
You barked out a humorous laugh. “Like I’ve been thoroughly fucked by a cactus, Doc. Care to explain what the hell happened to me?”
Bucky suppressed a snort as the doctor blushed and averted his gaze. “Yes, well, it’s quite normal to experience some mild discomfort following a D&C,” he began.
You sat up straighter, positive you had misheard him. “I’m sorry,” you interrupted, “a fucking what now?” He couldn’t have said what you thought you heard him say.
Dr. Carson coughed. “A Dilation and Curettage,” he explained. “It’s a procedure to–”
“Oh, I know what it’s fucking is,” you said, raising your voice. “What I don’t understand is why I would even need one in the first place!” Except you did. There was only one reason, and it made everything make perfect sense– the vomiting, the fatigue, all of it. 
Before the doctor could answer you, Bucky spoke up: “Uh, I don’t know what it is. One of you care to explain to me what the hell all this means?”
“It’s none of your fucking business, Barnes,” you grumbled, just as the doctor spoke over you:
“It’s a surgical procedure that requires dilation of the cervix and the removal of tissue from the uterus,” he said. “In this case, that would be necrotic fetal tissue.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Um, okay,” Bucky said as he considered the doctor’s words. You watched as the realization came over his face. “Holy shit. Fetal tissue? Like… like a baby?”
Dr. Carson nodded slowly. “Yes.” He turned back to face you. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. (Y/L/N), but it appears that you’ve experienced what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. Near as we can figure, you were about sixteen weeks along.”
You brought both hands to your temples. Was this real life? 
“Were you not aware you were pregnant?” the doctor asked, taking in the look of complete shock on your face. “When was the date of your last period?”
Before you could control yourself, you began laughing with the absolute absurdity of the entire situation. “I’ve been slightly preoccupied,” you managed to get out. “Between the baby’s father” you thumbed at Bucky, “cheating on me with my greatest enemy, working undercover to save a bunch of women from sex trafficking and now solving a murder, too, I guess, so forgive me if I haven’t really been keeping track.”
The look Dr. Carson gave you then was a mixture of concern and alarm, and you were fairly confident he was this close to having you held for a mandatory psych eval. Good; you could benefit from a vacation.
“Could, you, uh,” Bucky cleared his throat, “give us a moment alone, please, doctor? I’m sure Pock– I mean (Y/N) needs a minute to collect herself, to process.”
“Yes, of course,” Dr. Carson said, seeming relieved that one of you appeared sane, at least. “I’ll send a nurse over in a little while to check your vitals, and we can see about getting you discharged.”
Bucky nodded and offered the doctor his thanks on your behalf, because you were still laughing. Dr. Carson left the room, his haste evident. 
“Pocket,” Bucky said, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him. “Pocket,” he tried again, this time grabbing both your shoulders in his hands and gently shaking them. “Hey, get yourself together, come on!”
Your laughter tapered away and you wiped a tear away from your eye. “Oh my god,” you exhaled. “I’m sorry, but this is just… I’ve been running around pregnant for four fucking months? Come on! That’s, like, an entire third of a year! You gotta admit, that’s fucking insane!”
Bucky studied you. “You really didn’t know?”
You snorted. “Of course not! If I knew, I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with, because I would have taken care of it the second I found out.”
A frown took over Bucky’s face. “What do you mean, ‘take care of it’?” he asked. 
“I mean, like, I would have aborted it,” you said, as though the answer was so unbelievably obvious that it was stupid of him to have even asked, but Bucky’s frown deepened. “You can’t honestly think I would have kept it?”
“It was our baby, Pocket,” he said after a beat, his voice a rough whisper. “You would have killed our baby?!”
You rolled your eyes. “What? Just because you knocked me up, I’m supposed to forget everything you put me through and play happy co-parents with you and step mommy Carthage for the next eighteen years? No fucking thank you.”
“I would have married you,” he said, and you noticed for the first time that his voice was full of sorrow, his eyes lined with tears. Jesus Christ, this was hurting him. “We would have raised him or her together. Been a family.”
You laughed, the sound harsh and awkward to your own ears. “There’s no way in hell I’d marry you,” you told him. “Not after what you did. A clump of cells doesn’t just absolve you from your sins.”
“That was our child,” Bucky said, with so much anguish in his voice that you pulled yourself back. “That was a baby we made, out of our love, and you’re talking about it like it’s… it’s inconvenient garbage.”
“Yeah, well, I guess the trash took itself out,” you said bitterly.
Bucky looked at you in abject horror. “You don’t mean that,” he said, as though trying to convince himself as much as you. “You’re… you’re in shock. You’ve been through a trauma, and you’re not thinking straight.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t mean that,” he reiterated.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, James.” You turned your head away from him, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you, as if you were a complete stranger. 
The suite’s door opened again, and a nurse came in, dragging a portable computer cart behind her. Saved by the vitals, you thought.
“This conversation isn’t over,” Bucky said under his breath, and you sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to table this discussion for long, but not knowing what he hoped to get out of you. 
He couldn’t seriously have expected you to want to have had a baby with him, could he? Not after everything. To be forced into close proximity with him for the next two decades, and be tied together for the rest of your lives with a constant reminder of what could have been, should have been, with what he prevented you from ever having? That was just… delusional. 
Even though, if you had given yourself a chance to truly think about it, outside of the initial shock of it all, that was what you would have wanted, too.
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cripplecharacters · 21 hours
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Do you have any tips (or previous posts) about how to write a young person who’s first-time cane user? This one is for a character who escapes a lifetime of being experimented on, and learns in the aftermath of being rescued that this rather compromised her ability to walk well again. I’ve written characters with other mobility devices for getting around. But never canes. I myself am physically disabled but have never needed anything like these before. I’m always eager to learn.
Hi!
If your character is a first time cane user, here's some things that could happen:
She will need to learn how to walk with the cane first. When you're starting, it's easy to mess up (though it could be my dyspraxia speaking) and overfocus on how you should walk because you're just getting used to it. She could randomly stop and correct her gait, or look down a lot to check if she's still doing the motion (left arm and right leg forward, or the other way around).
She's probably gonna drop that thing a lot. Especially if she has a weaker grip in the cane hand - now, I don't have this problem (the opposite, rather) - but the overall thing is a really common occurrence for most of us. Walking and hit the smallest pebble imaginable? Cane on the ground, somehow. Tried putting it against the wall or table? It's on the ground. And then you need to reach for it... it's a struggle sometimes.
If she's not helped in picking the cane, she will spend some time figuring out what grip and height are comfortable for her. (Grip depends on personal preference, no one's preference has ever been the doorknob handle, height is generally to the person's wrist from the ground up.) I think that this could be an interesting opportunity to talk about disabled communities - maybe she's frustrated with the process and goes to an older (more experienced) cane user to help her?
If it's during the winter, her hand is gonna be freezing - and the opposite in the summer - and she might not be prepared for it. The handle can get HOT and it can be an issue. Depending on what her actual disability is, she might try switching which hand to hold it in. If she's able to do that, another character could warm up her cold hand :)
The first couple of times walking with a cane are an Experience. You feel way better, but also everyone is suddenly staring. Some people care about that, some don't. But it can be somewhat overwhelming either way.
Spatial awareness is gonna suck at first. She will bump into what feels like everything with the cane. Especially doorframes. It's always doorframes for some reason. Or mess up and have her cane slip down because she hasn't realized how close to the curb she was.
She will hit her shin. It will hurt.
She's probably going to be speedy with that thing! Getting a cane is like getting a speed boost. Without it, I have episodes where I'm extremely slow (my highest, extreme-pain speed would be slower than a person walking very casually) and with it, I'm faster than a lot of able-bodied people! It's fun and she would have fun with it.
She will not know what to do with the cane when she doesn't need it. For me, using backpacks always cause issues because I don't know how to hold it without dropping it, but I also need to swap hands, something gets stuck on the handle... it's a whole process that takes a comical amount of time at first. Same when going to the public bathroom, where are you putting it when you aren't using it...? It's a lot of trial and error and a lot of "eww, my cane just touched the dirtiest surface humanly imaginable".
In the real world, people are (overly) interested in young cane user's business and tend to stare a lot. Now, it doesn't have to be like this in your story, but it's often just an annoying part of life. Your character might feel awkward and feel like she needs to explain herself, but this goes away after some time. You just get desensitized after a while.
In the real world, people are sometimes interested and nice about it! For example, a lot of older people can be insecure about using a cane, exactly like younger people. I've heard stories about older people asking younger users where they got their cane from, how are they so confident with it, etc. Another opportunity for a disabled community moment!
I hope that my suggestions were helpful, it's been a while since I was a first-time cane user so I wrote down what I still remember, haha.
Mod Sasza
Hi!
I agree with Sasza on pretty much every point and wanted to add some things from my own experience.
It's really, really hard to hold both a cane and an umbrella at the same time. Sometimes I'll give up and get wet. Sometimes I'll give up and store the cane. She might do either of those, depending on what she hates more: being wet or walking without the cane. Or she could get a raincoat if that works for her.
Speaking of umbrellas, sometimes you need your umbrella and you need your cane and you also need a free hand. This Sucks. What I do for this sometimes (and maybe she or other people have better, smarter, more useful solutions than this) is shove my umbrella into my shirt or backpack strap or something, so the umbrella is Held Up by it. This is not very effective, and will not last long. But if I need to look up a map on my phone or adjust something on my clothes or get my keys, it can work. Sort of.
Just like mod Sasza said, people will take interest in your cane, younger and older alike. I've had people of all ages compliment my cane (it has flowers) as well as people of all ages tell me I'm too young to need a cane or ask what's wrong with me. An older woman once asked me where I got my cane as she had been wanting a 'pretty' one, and that was a nice moment.
She might develop a new awareness of mobility aid users. When you're new at using one and trying to figure it out, you're probably going to be frustrated, because it's a new skill like any other. But it might make her (like it made me) notice more people using canes. It's not that I never saw them before, but that they were more common than I ever thought, and I never would have noticed how common it was if I hadn't had to slow down and practice my skill.
Cane tips get dirty, and cane tips wear out. These both depend on where your character is using her cane (outdoors vs indoors, scratchy asphalt vs smooth wood) as well as how often. A cane with a worn-out rubber tip really sucks and is more unstable and if the cane is made of aluminum and the tip is worn out and you hit the cane the wrong way, you can damage the cane. Ask me how I know.
That's all I can think of right now that I had to learn to deal with when I started! As you can see I still don't have a solution to the rain thing and it's been like two and a half years...
- mod Sparrow
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eggcats · 2 days
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Headcanon that Alastor only knows how to show affection in ways HE would find acceptable to receive it. And yes, this DOES include random dead deer carcasses and the occasional sinner, but more importantly it affects how he interacts with others.
Because, other than Mimzy, who fairly explicitly tells him to fight her battles for her, most of his friends and acquaintances are powerful enough that joining a fight on their behalf would be an insult. Because HE would be insulted if someone did that to him, so he doesn't do it to those he likes and respects.
And as such, when he sees someone he cares about fighting he will watch and observe to only enter the battle if absolutely necessary - to do anything else would be to imply that they are weak and in need of protection. He respects them enough to let them win their own battles.
However, when he and Angel start becoming closer, this REALLY confuses Angel. He thought they were sorta-kinda friends, but Alastor REFUSES to help him even a little when he gets caught up in a turf war.
Alastor just observes from the fringes and doesn't do a THING to help Angel, and it's slowly driving him mad. Because the second the battle is over, Alastor will act just like before, but during it? He seems like he doesn't know who Angel is. It's kind of offensive, really. But he doesn't say anything because maybe HE'S misinterpreting their friendship here, and is looking into their interactions more than they are because he likes Alastor. It kind of hurts, but this is Hell, so what doesn't?
Until one day, when Alastor sees some random sinner attempt to drug Angel to force a victory. And suddenly, Alastor reminds everyone why they should fear the Radio Demon - because how DARE they be so weak as to insult Angel in such a way rather than simply respectfully dying.
And Angel is CONFUSED. He's like, "What the FUCK was that, Smiles?!" And is even more confused when Alastor APOLOGIZES and shows Angel the syringe as his reasoning for joining the fight.
Angel is so lost that for the first time, he brings up Alastor's weird behavior to Husk while he's drinking. And Angel is even MORE lost when Husk simply goes, "Ah, that makes sense."
A: "WHAT makes sense 'cuz I don' get why he'd choose NOW to help me!"
H: "Al is an Overlord, and most of his friends are other or former Overlords. How'd you think he'd take it if someone fought to defend him in a fight if he didn't need it?"
A: "What's that got to do wit' anything?"
H: "Al's treating you with the same respect he'd expect to have. He thinks you're upset at him for HELPING, not for taking this long to do so. He thinks he's insulted you by implying you're weak and in need of defending."
Suddenly, Angel is reevaluating every time he's noticed Alastor watching the fight from the sidelines, but not moving an inch to help him. It's kind of flattering that he thinks Angel is so capable of handling himself, but also wanted to stay in case something happened? That. That kind of says a lot to how Alastor sees him, doesn't it? If he's treating him like Angel is just as worthy as respect as Alastor's other friends? And the fact that he only joined the fight when someone tried to force him to lose unfairly?
Angel realizes he needs to talk to Alastor and clear up this misunderstanding, because suddenly it doesn't seem so ridiculous that Alastor might care for him and Angel just hasn't been able to read the signs correctly.
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pepprs · 2 years
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covid is such an evil evil disease and an evil evil thing to live through lol
#purrs#this isn’t prompted by anything im just thinking about it. i hate that thisis what life looks and feels like now and it might always be thi#way. i hate that getting covid feels like an inevitability even though i wear n95s and don’t go anywhere but work and have basically 0#social life and have put my life plans on hold to wait for this thing to pass when it probably never will. i hate that lockdown was better#and easier than this in some ways because at least back then people were still scared and there still felt like hope and there was clear(is#) guidance and free testing and vax sites and whatever. i hate that free testing and public health dashboards showing covid rates and vax s#sites and all that shit have fucking disappeared even though the variants going around now are more contagious than ever. i hate the#mortifying ordeal of being the only person (or one of the only people) wearing an n95 and sometimes the only person wearing a mask at all.#hate that so many things have been lost and we are not taking time to grieve them or make sure that we are okay and will be okay. i hate#being scared every time i swallow. i hate how there is literally no way to tell if you will get long covid and no way to reduce your chance#of getting long covid or covid at all (aside from masks) just ways to make the symptoms less severe. i hate trying to bring people together#and stay away from people at the same time. i hate all the life that covid has taken out of me and the people i love even though thank god#know more people who haven’t gotten it than who have but actually that may not be true idk. and i HATE that because of covid and how#egregiously badly it has been handled everyone is just like.. perpetually tired and sad and we’ve accepted mass illness and death and#accepted that disabled people (esp those who are marginalized in other ways) are disposable when actually no fucking human being is#disposable and everyone should be able to live happy connected healthy lives and we could’ve ended this shit in EARLY 2020 without having t#deal with any of this absolute fucking NIGHTMARE. like god. i remember sobbing hysterically thinking we would be dealing with covid for 18#months and now we’re coming on 3 fucking years and lockdown is over but the danger is even worse than it was and like.. no one cares anymor#and it fucking sucks lmfao. i am so tired. i need to move out. and i miss my friends and i miss my life and i miss having fewer things to#constantly worry about and i can’t believe how good and simple life was before this stupid shit.#delete later#i wasn’t planning on going on a huge rant lol sorry it’s just what’s on my mind this morning
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yanderenightmare · 2 months
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TW: nsfw, anal, suggestiveness & pressuring
fem reader
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Thinking about really boyfriendly boyfriends – simpy and helpful and sweet – boyfriend material perfectly cut as if custom-ordered – boxed and shipped and sent express mail from the boyfriend factory with love.
He’s interested in your hobbies and studies and is equally passionate about sharing his interests with you. He’s comfortable and playful with your family and makes a true effort to befriend your friends. He’s even outgoing at parties where he doesn’t know anyone but you instead of sulking and asking you to leave like so many past boyfriends have.
He likes sharing food, sings loudly in the car, texts you throughout the day, and calls you when he’s at the store before coming over, asking if you need or want anything. He’s open and honest and geeks over new releases – that movie trailer, that game, those sneakers, that album, that car, and all that other boy stuff – and yet never fails to tell you how beautiful you are every time he sees you.
And he likes taking you on dates – cinema, arcade, roller rink, amusement park, road trips, picnics, beach days – or simply hanging out at his or your place – making food, binging a series in bed, kissing and dry-humping…
He’s just, all in all, everything you could’ve ever wished for. Perfect in every way.
Only… there hasn’t been a single time he’s had you in bed where he hasn’t all but begged to fuck your ass…
He’s literally crying for it while moaning, “Please~ lemme put it in~ just wanna try it once, please, baby~” with his hands squeezing your butt over your shorts and his head under your shirt, kissing and sucking your tits with the prayers on his lips as he humps his tented crotch against your clothed cunt – making your panties hot and damp. 
You squeeze your eyes shut with a suppressed whine.
He keeps pleading, “I’ll be gentle~ just the tip~ I’ll go so slow~”
His fingers dig into the crevice of your cheeks, wedging your shorts and undies through your slit. Everything clenches from the friction.
Your face is heated, biting your lip with cinched brows. You knew he’d ask for it again today – he never doesn’t. Even though he’ll get pussy-drunk and pound your poor womb in a tight mating press the second he’s made you cum on his fingers. 
He slurps your nipple, still begging, “Please, baby, please~ it’ll feel so good~ so-so-so good~”
You’d been deliberating giving in to his incessant proposals for a little while. He’d been so unrelenting you were starting to feel bad denying him for so long.
Not like past boyfriends hadn’t been equally relentless in the ask.
But this one was different… unlike the others… you really like him. 
You think you might be in love with him, even though it’s a little early to say.
Still… since he’s so perfect… you want to do your best to be perfect for him, too.
So you’d made yourself ready for it this time – done preparations in the shower. 
But… you pout… it was all so embarrassing, and your poor mind was riddled with doubts as though you were a virgin all over again. 
What if something… gross happens? What if it hurts so bad you have to stop? Will it disappoint him? What if you hate it but go through with it anyway, only for him to keep asking? What if you have to break up because you won’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again?
“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” His voice slips through the inner turmoil.
He’d resurfaced from beneath your shirt on account of your silence, only to see you’d covered your face in both hands. He gently peels them away – revealing your eyes and the shy way you nibble your lip.
“I’m sorry…” He apologizes then. “I’ll stop asking-” 
“No!” You blurt. To his surprise – staring at you with those big puppy-dog eyes you just couldn’t handle seeing look so disheartened. “I mean…” 
You look away, cheeks burning – voice just barely above a whisper. 
“If you really want to… I’m fine with it…”
He seemed to perk up at that. If he’d had a tail, you know it would be wagging behind him. 
His chest swelled, eyes big and unblinking, swallowing thickly – breaths already thick with containment. 
He leans in close and nose-kisses you, brushing your lips with heated words, “Really? You’ll let me?”
You made a small sound, too humiliated to say or do much more than nod your head in confirmation.
He seemed to shudder, closing the space between you, kissing your lips softly – he tasted like static – buzzing with restricted urgency. Parting with a soft-spoken yet strained, “Thank you.”
Both his hands messaged your waist – fiddled with the band to your shorts as though he couldn’t wait to drag them down your thighs and free you.
Still speaking against your lips, “Can you turn around on your knees for me?”
Everything was burning – from the tips of your ears to your lips and deep down in your stomach where something equally hungry and anxious was preparing for something.
He moved back to allow you to crawl into position, taking a pillow and placing it underneath you – patting it while telling you to “Lie down.” 
You did like suggested, lying with your face and chest against the soft plume, sinking into it with your back in a slope and your ass presented. Heart pounding in your head, loud and hot, as he took position behind you – placing his hand back on your hips.
He hooked his fingers into the band of your shorts again, pulling them back over the fat of your haunches, then dragged them down slowly until they pooled around your knees. You felt the damp heat of his breath immediately hit the peach fuzz on the small of your back – seeping through the cotton of your panties – making your belly brew with butterflies. 
“Just relax, okay? Tell me to stop if I go too far.” He said, sensing how you quaked as he placed both palms on your globes – denting the plump flesh with greedy fingers.
It’s not like you haven’t fucked in this position before – it’s just that you knew this time was going to be different. You felt so exposed.
He fingered the frill of your panties and started peeling them off – baring your naked skin and the pretty dip between your cheeks. 
You yelped. His mouth was on you before he’d even finished undressing you – placing a sloppy half-bite half-kiss on your upper ass before proceeding to slurp the crack.
You whimpered – flustered and flushed as the heat of his tongue laid wet trails down through the valley until his lips met with your rim. You shuffled your thighs and balled the pillow in small fists as he groaned into you. Shamelessly squeezing your fat with his hands, spreading the cheeks to let him at your little puckered hole.
Your eyes screwed shut while you hid your face in the pillow beneath you – muffling all uneasy sounds as he canted his mouth against your ass. Chin rutting into your puffy cunt while bobbing his jaw, lipping at your taint and rim – nose nuzzled between your cheeks – mouth fully closed around you – moaning at the feel of it pulsing on the tip of his tongue as he runs it over the tight scrunch again and again.
Your shoulders brace as he tries and screw the wet muscle inside. You tense up way too tight for it to happen.
He smacks off with a raunchy sigh. Your heart is in your throat. 
Slick from your ignored cunt feels sticky on your swelled pussy-lips – hot and twitching in the cool air.
He pops the cap of the little bottle of lube the two of you always keep on hand. You flinch when his slick fingers come back to rub your hole. He gives it slow and soothing circles before easing the tip inside. Filling you up only to the first joint, waiting for you to relax and loosen before sinking the rest inside. 
He hums at the display, groaning, “Fuuh-ck~” Sliding the digit in knuckle-deep before slipping it out to the tip again – repeating the motion while feeling your muscles ripple around it. “You’re so cute, baby~ so pretty~”
He bows and places a chaste kiss on your buttcheek, laying his face on it like a pillow – his eyes half-mast while looking at his finger disappear inside you.
He works another in with the first, shuffling them – messaging the tightness, slowly training it to stretch. His hot breath fans over your wet skin, making you go goosefleshed.
“Fuck, baby – so pretty with my fingers inside yah~” He hums, almost in a whine while curling them inside you. “So fucking hot how you swallow and squeeze on ‘em like that~”
He pulls himself up again, tugging on his belt with one hand – keeping on fingering you with the other. 
His pants drop to the floor a moment later, and he lifts his neglected cock out of the sticky mess he’d made in his boxers – throbbingly fat and hard, pulsing in his fist and leaking pre, another pearl each time he rubs over the bulge of his tip.
He looks at your hole – eyes misty. You seem to have loosened up a bit – enough for him to part his fingers.
He pulls them both out with a schlick. “I think you’re ready…” His voice is sticky – stuck to his throat. “I’m gonna try ‘n put it in.”
Your hands curl into the pillow as you nod your head – eyes still squeezed shut. It hadn't felt too bad so far – just weird. Embarrassing and… clinical. A bit like a doctor’s visit. But you knew that would all change now.
His hands glide across your back, catching your crop top in balled fists, stretching it as his tip works on stretching out your opening – nudging against it, coaxing it into accepting the head.
“Fuh- oh fuck~” He moans, lost to the sight and feel of your butt seizing around him – closing up around his tip. 
You look so fucking perfect like that – face-down and kneeling with your ass pressed back against him – giving him your second virginity. 
His eyes flitter across the slope of your spine – looking over your creamy skin, looking so pretty, all glossy with dew, until he reaches your face. Your brows are pinched together, gnawing on your bottom lip, eyes shut tightly.
“Are you okay?” He pants.
You nod your head – curt and rushed.
He suppresses a sound – feeling even more heated. You’re so perfect, so good to him – the best girlfriend he could have ever asked for. Trusting him like this, letting him do this even when you’re so nervous about it. You must really love him.
He’s nearly crying, holding onto your hips as he fucks you with just the tip – loosening the rim up and going just a little deeper for every shallow thrust. He nearly barrels over, standing there with his back hunched – bowing his head, looking at where the two of you connect while sweat drips from his weighted bangs.
“I love you, too.” He confesses out of the blue, and you blink, looking back at him – seeing his mouth parted with blissful moans, his eyes wet, and brows softly curled. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect fo’me – so good.” 
He loves you so much he can barely take the blossoming in his chest, feeling like he wants to eat you up and swallow you whole. His girl – who laughs at all his silly jokes and holds his hand everywhere you go and doesn’t tease him when he yelps and holds you close during horror movies. His perfect perky girlfriend – who lets him fuck you raw and cum inside, and now… even letting him fuck your tight round ass for the very first time.
He's almost all the way in now – just a few more thrusts, and you’ll have him swallowed down to the base with his balls pressed firmly against the puffy lips of your wet pussy.
“Fuh-uuck-” He breathes out again, gripping your hips tight as he bottoms out. 
He nearly cums right then, having to bite his lip to hold back – savoring how you ripple and squeeze him – so tight and firm.
You’re such a good girl taking him so well and so deep, lying so sweetly beneath him with your ass presented – letting him nestle his entire length inside you. Curling your toes all cutely as you adjust with only pretty girly mews leaving you.
You didn’t expect him to mount you. 
But he does. Now standing with his feet in the bed, squatting over you with his cock sinking balls deep in your ass. Freshly broken-in, it’s tight and firm and twitchy as though it’s confused as to why there's a big fat cock stretching it out. 
He can’t help but smile, perched on top of you – hands still hooked upon your hips for balance while he leans forward, settling even deeper. 
You moan, and it nearly drives him wild. Barely holding himself together as he pulls out – wishing he had something to bite into instead of his lip as he focuses on the way your firm walls clench on him, clinging to his shaft so tightly it’s hard pulling out despite the wetness – it’s so good he’s losing it. 
He’s taking his perfect girlfriend in her perfect ass. And it feels so fucking good his hands leave their grip on your hips as he slugs forward, bending over you until his chest presses into your back, and his head rests on top of yours, cheek to cheek – slinging both arms around you, putting you in a headlock – leaving you to do nothing else but pant, squished between his biceps and his cock kisses your guts. 
“Can’t believe I'm fucking your little ass, baby.” He rants breathlessly. “It's so tight and good, gripping me so fuckin’ hard.” Huffing and groaning with his back hunched as he curves into your butt as deep as he can – stuffing into you from behind slowly and carefully as though he’s savoring every single flutter of you hugging him.
He’s barely even pulling out – kneading as far as his cock can reach instead – cock-warming himself inside you.
“Fuck, baby – I can cum inside, right?” He whimpers against you, kissing the corner of your mouth with his tongue out.
You’re so squished beneath him you can only just wheeze out the word. “O-okay-”
“Oh- fuck, I love you.” He cries when he blows, squeezing you so tight you’re choking as he pumps pulse after pulse of thick hot cum deep inside you. “I love you, I love you- love you- love you so much- so fuckin’ much-”
And you don’t know if it’s the confession, the headlock, or the cum being pumped up your guts – but your clit’s pulsing and your cunt’s twitching even though it’s around nothing, gushing down your shaking thighs as your butt pushes itself flush against your boyfriend’s cock, clenching hard around it and milking him free of every drop.
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BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Touya, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio
JJK – Gojo, Choso, Yuji, Yuuta
HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins
AOT – Armin
and whomever else you imagined♡
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offbrand-deltatraveler · 11 months
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You ever just wanna pick someone up, and cause them so much immeasurable pain that they die from shock before you even get the chance to properly kill them
#i’m sorry i’m still talking about them i just cannot for the life of me get over the sheer audacity of this bitch#like. i dare to not understand their joke#they proceed to make fun of me for not understanding the joke. essentially calling me braindead#and then why i call them out on it and give them a taste of their own medicine suddenly i’m the bad guy?#then suddenly i apparently only explicitly exaggerated their words in the way i did because i wanted them to kill themself#and the mere implication that they would ever do something like that is way out of line. despite the fact that they were just making fun of#ME for not being able to take a joke a few seconds ago snd then their wussy pissbaby nerves can’t handle a comical exaggeration that had a#fucking tone indicator on it#not to mention that i literally explained why i didn’t get the joke miltiple times- and it is a very valid reason might i mention#and then they go ‘oH wElL iF tHiS iS wHaT tHe UtDr FaNdOm iS LiKe-‘ bitch when the FUCK was this about fandom#this has nothing to do with fandom. this is about you making fun of me for not getting your joke and then wanting to act like the victim on#top of it#and then i call them out on THAT as well as how me being in this fandom doesn’t immediately make everyone in it terrible because h th at was#bullshit and they know it#and then i bring up how i was in the sanrio fandom too and they probably wouldn’t say that makes every sanrio fan ever terrible and they use#that t COMPLETELY ivore everything i said and then they have the audacity to fucking BLOCK ME and take my words out of context to tell their#friends i said all these terrible things that they know full well i didn’t say. at least not in the purposefully deceuitfuway they worded it#god i fucking hate rhis person so much#i’m not much of a big hater but i cannot think about this fucking atrocity of a ‘human’ being with anything but xomplete and utter hatred in#my heart#fuck them and fuck all of their friends because i know damn well they read that post too. assuming that bitch didn’t trash the evidence#before they could
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ceilidho · 2 months
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) part 1
-
The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.
Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.
The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home). 
Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?
Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep). 
He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that. 
Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?
Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.
He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite. 
Then, one day, he meets a girl.
Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.
He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back. 
“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket. 
“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.
“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”
She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle. 
He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed. 
He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth. 
“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle. 
“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him. 
“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”
Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.
He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor. 
When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue. 
Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later. 
In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes. 
A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind. 
He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself. 
Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?
He looks pointedly away. 
It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?
Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave. 
“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”
“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.
“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”
“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”
The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder. 
When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift. 
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”
It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction. 
Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that. 
“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”
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As Bad As It Can Be - LN
Request from @sugarvibez - Hi honey how are you!!! Really hope you're doing well!!! So recently I've been getting alot of panic attacks like they are getting more frequent now and i have no idea why and like I just start crying out of nowhere and I don't have any control over it as well. So i just wanted to request a fic where the reader goes through it with lando
Important side note: If anyone has advice for handling panic attacks and maybe methods of how to try and minimise them, please reply with advice. it would be incredibly helpful to @sugarvibez and I want to help as much as I can. Also disclaimer: I did google methods of how to help with panic attacks in order to write this. I'm so sorry if you read it and think "yeah bitch that doesn't work irl". I just don't struggle with them so I can only go off of what I know and what I research
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Lando didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for his girlfriend to be a burden on him. At least that's how she feels.
On his side, he doesn't think twice about helping her through her panic attacks which seem to have been on the rise in frequency. All he wants to do is make it all go away for her.
It's seems to be getting worse and he's trying to figure out ways to help because it's almost as if her upset over the fact she's having more panic attacks is in turn a cause for more panic attacks. A vicious cycle if there's ever been one.
Initially y/n tried to hide it from Lando but when he caught onto her disappearances. Now he's almost got a sixth sense. Even if she's not in the room he's suddenly got an internal pull towards her. When she is with him, he'll drop everything to take care of her and help however he can.
"What are you doing?" Y/n asks makingLando almost jump and look up at her quickly.
"Me?"
"Lando." Y/n deadpans making him look at her for a moment.
"I was...looking at ways that I might be able to help with the panic attacks better." Lando sighs making y/n frown, struck with emotions she wasn't expecting to feel when she asked what he was doing. "No. Baby, don't cry."
"But you don't have to do that." Y/n sniffles earning a small sad expression before he pulls her down to his lap with a sigh.
"Y/n, I want to help you. I love you, why would I want to see you keep struggling like this? It makes me sad knowing you're struggling so much-it's not your fault but if I can help to make your life easier than I'm going to do it. Even if you think I don't have to." Lando smiles then kissing her temple.
"What did you find then?"
"Mmm...not much that we're not already doing. They just sort of said breathing exercises, try to get you away from crowds if there's a lot of people around. There is something called grounding techniques...that might help? But I need to look into them a bit more."
Y/n hums making Lando smile sadly at her.
"We'll figure it out. Don't worry." Lando smiles then squeezing her in a hug.
-
The worst time for y/n to get panic attacks is when Lando is out on track. She always has to try and get herself away as quickly as possible.
"Y/n?" Jon frowns watching her look pale and clammy as she stumbles away.
He knows not to follow, Lando might be helpful but Jon doesn't bring her nearly as much comfort so it's better to just let her get some space on her own.
When Lando steps out from qualifying. Jon doesn't reach him fast enough to catch him before media. But he does catch him the second he's out the media pen.
"Hey, mate. I think y/n had a panic attack while you were out on track. She took off, I didn't want to follow and maybe make things worse."
"Fuck, ok. Thank you." Lando sighs moving quickly to jog through the paddock. Dodging media and even a couple fans to rush to y/n.
Where he finds her she's being fed by some stray McLaren team members who must've found her post-panic attack and tried to get her to eat to help her calm down.
There's tear stains, and her eyes are puffy, her hair is disheveled from her repeatedly running her hand through it to try and calm herself down.
"How bad?" Lando asks softly, pulling a seat up to sit next to her.
"I don't really want to talk about it." Y/n murmurs earning a small nod from the driver. "What did you qualify?"
"P3."
"Really?" Y/n sighs hating that she missed such a good quality. "I'm sorr-"
"Don't. It's not my best and you didn't do it on purpose. I don't want to ever hear you apologise for a panic attack." Lando cuts in but she only deflates further, not able to really be convinced of his words. "I love you."
"I love you too." Y/n mumbles leaning into him as he drags her seat as close as possible.
-
Lando is in the garage just a couple hours ahead of the race kind of just waiting for the sequence of pre-race events to happen.
Y/n is just standing with his arms around her as she looks at her phone. That's when it hits. The difference in her breathing happens first and Lando doesn't even hesitate to pull her away, apologising quietly to Will who just nods and turns.
They never make a big deal of it. Just not wanting to add to how she might feel.
Lando decides to try one of the other techniques he'd read keeping y/n in the corner, her trying to keep her breathing steady but she's definitely struggling. Eyes clamping closed as she feels tears welling behind her eyes.
"Baby, can you open your mouth for me? Just a bit?" Lando's voice requests but she's too caught up to be listening and Lando takes a slightly unconventional but hopefully effective method.
Though when Jon witnesses it, he almost stops the driver who manages to force a piece of gum into her cheek. Narrowly dodging her chattering teeth that are snapping together.
It takes a few seconds for her to realise what he did and she frowns beginning to chew the gum.
"Just focus on that, baby." Lando whispers while she is still breathing unevenly and struggling to calm herself down. But after a couple more minutes she's eased out of it. "Ok...We're getting there."
"How did you know to do that?"
"It was one of the suggestions online." Lando smiles softly while she rubbing her bicep. "Better?"
"Yeah, actually a lot better." Y/n mumbles swallowing as she continues chewing the gum. "Thank you."
"I'm just glad it worked. Your teeth were chattering...risked losing a finger."
"God forbid. What would you do without one of your fingers?"
"Well I'll risk it again and again if it means it works to help you." Lando smiles then kissing her.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @racingheartsposts @c-losur3 @jehun @bethanymccauley @randomnessis-mine-me @sunf1ower16 @8justme @bborra @igotnorrrizz @unknownmystery22 @aeri101 @neilakk @d3kstar
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months
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thinkin about polite gaz being... not so polite when he realizes you're attracted to him. 
not like you let it slip on purpose. he only catches on because he's teasing you and flirting with you and he gets playfully physical and pins you against a wall. he does not miss the way your breath catches in your throat or the way you flush. bit submissive, aren't you?
his attitude changes instantly. he bets you he could keep you pinned right there. hell, he bets he could pick you up, toss you over his shoulder if he wanted to. when you ask him (a bit too breathlessly) if he'd really do that, he smirks at you and says there are plenty of reasons he might have to pick you up. makes it easier to show you who's boss, yeah?
your face gets so hot you think you might actually pass out. you fucking bottom.
he leans in, getting closer this time so you can't shy away; you have no choice but to hear him clearly. "you think you could handle being thrown around?"
if it killed you, you would die happy.
"how about i just throw you into bed instead?"
please, you squeak out.
his eyes gleam and he chuckles. "say please again and it'll be the floor."
nsfw ↓
he's not kidding about being able to pick you up either. or throw you. the moment he has a chance, he's definitely getting you into bed. and he's definitely enjoying how you squirm.
can i ask a favor of you? he asks, so politely, like he's not literally on top of you, pinning you down.
literally anything. you would do literally anything he asks.
"say please again. for me."
you stutter.
"you asked quite nicely for me to throw you. so if i ask, would you beg nicely for me to do other things?"
oh god. oh god. you're glad you're laying down, because you're sure your knees would give out if you were standing up.
when your brain reboots, you stumble over yourself to say yes, absolutely, please kiss me, please tear my clothes off, please hold me down and have your way with me--
god, he really likes that look on your face. he is really going to enjoy you. 
"you really are an excitable little thing, aren't you?" he says, smirk widening as his hand traces along your hip.
is that bad? you ask him.
"it's really hot. almost makes me feel bad for everything i want to do to you."
no, please, don't feel bad, you tell him. you immediately shift, trying to press yourself up against his body. you want him to use you for everything he wants. everything.
"so eager. can't wait, can you?"
no, you can't. you'll die if you have to wait. you try and fail to reign yourself in and be so fucking needy. you fumble with the buttons on your shirt, undoing them one by one, impatient and frustrated. he just smirks at you, letting you get yourself all worked up. just leans back and watches you, enjoying the sight.
when your mind catches up with what your hands are doing, you stall out on the last button. then, finally, he gives in and reaches forward to unhook it himself. then he yanks the whole shirt out of the way.
"good girl. god, you're cute when you're so red like that. you're really into this, aren't you?" his voice is sultry as his caress moves down to the button on your jeans. really just takes his damn time, enjoying how the slower he goes, the more desperate for him you get. but the way your hips twitch when he lays his hands on them has him fighting demons.
"that's it. keep moving. keep squirming." his voice is low and slow--he's trying to keep himself under control as much as you are. he wants so badly to grab your hips and just fucking rail you into the mattress, but it's more rewarding to be patient. how's he going to hear more of those sounds, see more of your desperate ploys to get under him, if it's all over right away?
obviously you have no such reservation. the moment he has your jeans unbuttoned, you're wiggling out of them and flipping onto your stomach, pushing your ass up in the air and fucking presenting yourself to him. please, you beg him, losing your goddamn mind, you can't take it anymore. can't he just...?
gaz damn near short-circuits at the image of you with your ass in the air. he barely manages to stop himself and weigh whether he should deny you a little bit more to heighten the anticipation.
fuck it. he can torment you more after he's inside you. multitasking.
you squeak in delight when he plants his hands between your shoulder blades and pushes your top half into the mattress, dragging your hips up toward his. he pushes you down, fitting his body over yours and putting his mouth next to your ear. he whispers right in your ear. "say please again."
please, please, please, you'll do anything, you tell him, wiggling your hips at him.
and he plans to take you up on that offer.
he leans in close, his breath warm on your skin. "good girl, he tells you. obedient girl."
you've never wanted to be under someone so badly.
your easy submission has him grinning. "are you a good girl all the time or just for me?"
for you, you mumble, hot with shame.
he pulls himself back even more and puts a knee on each side of you, pushing your legs apart. it gives you a shot of dopamine so intense you almost can't keep your ass up. 
"are you being good right now?"
you could be better for him, you tell him, so much better.
he likes the sound of that. it's getting hard to think, having your legs open and right there and he's trying to hold himself back but who wouldn't fall for the temptation he's experiencing right now? "how much better?"
you tell him you could please him more if you knew what he liked, if you could focus on him, if you didn't need more right now, if you didn't need him inside you so bad. your hips twitch again as you ramble, almost mindless.
"i like it when you speak so earnestly," he tells you.
that approval sends another shot of dopamine through you, and your hips buck against nothing. he hasn't even touched you there and you feel like you could finish any moment just from his voice. you're gonna die if you can't have him right now.
he's breathing heavier now, eyes fixed on your opening. his voice almost wavers, heavy with implication. "how bad do you need me, darling?" 
you start to dissolve into begging again--god dammit, he said he wanted you to beg and he's not even doing what you want, what you're begging for--and he interrupts. "you're going to ask properly first."
of course he's gonna make you fucking say it.
you beg and plead in every way you know how, promising every debased act you can think of. when his fingers finally press up against your heat--a teasingly light brush at first, and then a firm press--you dissolve into a mess of broken cries and pleas for him to keep going.
obviously he keeps talking to you in that low, sultry voice, telling you what an impatient little thing you are. chastising you. just another way to flex a little more power over you, and you're so weak for it. and then for that, he praises you.
"such a good girl," he tells you. "you want more?"
you open your mouth to say yes, you want everything, but then he presses his fingers in just the slightest bit, fingertips splitting you the slightest bit, and all you can do is keen. you rock your hips back into him desperately, sliding his fingers into you, and something in you snaps. you tip over the edge. oxytocin floods through you, your legs lock up, and shameless sounds fall from your lips. gaz's breath catches as you finish. then he grins.
gaz pulls you up to him fully and lies down above you. kisses you on the mouth and then trails his mouth down your jaw to your ear. "that was perfect," he says, breathless, and unashamedly horny about the fact that you just came on the second knuckles of two fingers.
you stare at him in muted shock yourself. you can't believe you just... you really just came like that? what's wrong with you?
"how about this," he says in a low, smooth voice. "since you were good, why don't you lay back down and let me fuck you properly?" he lifts your legs off the bed and raises your hips toward him. "let me do everything i want to you."
you swallow and nod, not trusting yourself to speak without squeaking.
"good girl." this time there's no hint of teasing. his eyes are hungry. "let your man take care of you."
...
[part 1] / part 2
more Gaz / masterlist tag
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murdrdocs · 3 months
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MDNI ; explicit sexual content ; fem!reader
thinking about luke being so desperate to have you that he can't control himself.
you're naked on the bed, completely bare, and your skin glistens with sweat. it shines from the light coming through the window. he can't keep his eyes off of you. he can't keep his hands off of you.
he's already as close to you as he could get, physically and emotionally. he’s buried inside of you to the hilt, one arm wound around your back, the other holding himself up by pressing his hand into the space above your head. but he needs more.
his skin is burning. it's hot today, stuffy in the cabin, but that's not what's affecting him the most. he's used to the heat that comes and goes during the summer. it's this carnal desire that's new to him, the craving that makes him want to crawl out of his skin and lodge himself into yours.
his hips rut up into yours with more force as he bares his teeth, burying his head in the crook of your neck, pulling your torso closer to him and creating a curve in your back. you huff with the change, and he expects you to recoil, to undo the arch in your back and situate yourself more comfortably onto the bed.
instead, you dig your hands into his tousled hair and push your pelvis closer to his. luke grins against your neck, he nips the skin there and then presses a kiss into the same spot.
he pulls his knees up closer to the backs of your thighs, sitting on his haunches as he pulls you practically onto his lap. he resumes his pace, a vein in his neck straining as he attempts to hold back a little. he wants to give you more. he wants to give you all of him. and although you hold the same divinity as him, he still fears that you won't be able to take it.
maybe some other day.
for now, he gives you what he knows you'll be able to handle. at least, that's his plan, but then you start fucking yourself on him, both of you utilizing the hard trained muscles in your cores to stay in the position.
it's discordant, a push and pull that's not exactly rhythmic, a concotion of staccato and legato movements. you groan, digging your nails into the skin on luke's shoulder, and he realizes that while he might be holding back, you aren't.
your nails pierce his skin, there's definitely a few marks and he can't tell if the liquid running down his back is blood or another droplet of sweat.
"luke, i need..." you start the sentence but never finish it.
your pelvis grinds into his, you press a hand behind you into the mattress and roll your hips. it gives you some form of satisfaction; luke can see your eyes roll back as well as he can hear your grateful sigh.
apparently, it gives you an idea, because you pull yourself closer to him, dig your toes into the mattress, and push him back until he lays flat.
barely a second passes before you're on top of him, riding him like your life depends on it. the bed is too short for this, and luke's head hands off of the edge of it. he lays like that for a moment, too lost in the change. his hands grip your hips as your cunt slurps him up and spits him out, just to repeat it once more. the sound is absolutely filfthy, so vivid and lewd and luke wishes he could commit it to memory.
just as he wants to commit the image to memory.
a pain settles in the back of his neck as he holds his head up to stare at you. to watch your tits bounce and your stomach flex and the way your skin ripples with each bounce.
you're letting it all out at this point, pressing luke's hips down with your hands while you moan unabashedly as you use him.
"yes. right there! gods, 's good, luke."
it's wrong of you to call upon the divine in a moment like this. if you were in your right mind, maybe you would have slapped a hand over your mouth and apologized profusely. but you don't. you keep going, repeating it with absolutely no cares.
your uncaring nature pushes luke closer. because how is it that you, the sweet girl who would only speak kind of the gods, turn into this.
he grips your hips, briefly considering taking over once more, but you're doing so well on you're own and he knows you flourish best when he gets you started, and you finish things on your own. so he lets you get him closer.
he warns you of his impending orgasm, he asks you to get him there (it comes out more of a beg than anything), and when he feels his balls tighten, he digs one hand into the bedsheets and the other into the flesh of your ass and he lets go.
the cum gets trapped in the condom, warm against his already sensitive tip, and then to add to it all, you clench around him and bring your chest down and he feels the hard pebbles of your nipples pressing into his pecs. your hand snakes between your bodies, he can feel the ghost of your fingers rubbing at your clit, and your moans are so clear next to his ear as you get yourself closer and closer, finally reaching the end when luke weakly thrusts up into you.
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slayfics · 4 months
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Katsuki gets caught being sweet to you.
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You started to finally catch your breath being at the top of the hiking trail Katsuki had dragged you out too.
"Alright there, it's just us up here so tell me already. What the hell has been going on?"
"That's why you brought me out here?" You asked.
"Just tell me already, stop being so damn stubborn." He pried you impatiently.
"I told you I'm fine Bakugo, just busy like everyone else." You replied.
"Don't give me that shit. Do you think I'm stupid? The other extras are too dense to notice but I can see how exhausted you've been this whole week. So just tell me- what's going on," He said.
"You didn't need to drag me out here on a hike in freezing weather to do this, you know," You said, slightly irritated at Katsuki continuing to push you.
"Ugh- will you stop stalling and talk already," He yelled, causing you to let out an annoyed sigh. Katsuki put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the view, his demeanor softening slightly. "You can talk to me, you know," he added, his voice lower and kinder than before.
You stayed looking at the view for a few more moments trying to figure out how to unpack everything that had been stressing you out. It wasn't like some big thing, but a summation of a bunch of little things that were beginning to become too challenging to manage.
A cold breeze blew by causing you to shiver. You wondered why Katsuki had insisted on bringing you up this mountain to talk to you. He could have pestered you in your dorm where it was warm.
Katsuki stole glances at you occasionally then focused back on the view not wanting to intimidate you too much from his glare. Hiking always helped him to clear his mind and gather his thoughts when they seemed too loud. He thought maybe it would help you too, and being away from all your classmates might make it easier for you to talk to him. At the very least it made it easier for Katsuki to be more vulnerable with you. He found it too daunting to express himself fully with all the attention of his classmates around. It was much easier being only in your company.
You took a deep breath, "I guess- it's just been hard to balance everything recently," You finally spoke, breaking the silence. Katsuki made it easy to open up to, as he had no problem sitting in silence for long extended periods. Others in your life felt the need to fill that silence with useless chatter which always prevented you from sitting in your emotions and being able to formulate them into words.
You took in another breath feeling a lump in your throat form. You hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about what was going on for fear of opening up the flood of emotions and not being able to stop. Now here it was. You didn't want to cry on this fucking hill.
Katsuki patiently waited while you gathered your thoughts.
"It's just been so much and I've been barely keeping up. It's- been getting to me recently. I've been forgetting things I shouldn't. Being unusually upset at things that aren't that big of a deal- and I just- it's dumb." You cut yourself off afraid to say anymore.
"It's not dumb. Don't hold that shit in, it's not healthy," He said encouraging you to keep talking.
You sighed, "I just... know that it could be way worse, and I've been through way worse so- I feel so irritated at myself. What I'm going through now isn't something I can't handle. I know that. So why do I feel so fucking exhausted with everything," You replied wiping a stray tear from your cheek.
"Hmm," Katsuki grunted, processing what you said. "You know, it's ok to be tired, and- to not be perfect. You can't just deny yourself from feeling overwhelmed because it could be worse. If you're exhausted now then those feelings are real- and it's ok to have them," He spoke.
You looked down at the view watching the distant cars pass, "Thanks," You managed to say taking another deep breath.
"You shouldn't wait to handle them until they explode either. Trust me, I know what that's like," He said, causing you to let out a small giggle. "You're too damn hard on yourself you know that?"
You let out a full laugh, "Oh that's pretty good coming from you. You're the pro at having too high expectations for yourself," you laughed.
You and Katsuki were wrapped up in your conversation causing you not to notice approaching classmates in the distance. Mina and Eijiro had also decided to come up the hill after class and spotted both of you in the distance.
"That looks like we shouldn't interrupt," Eijiro said.
"Yeah," Mina agreed. "But maybe... we could get a little closer to make sure everything is ok?" She said, pulling Eijiro into the bushes to spy on you and Katsuki. Eijiro was highly against the plan but was unable to protest for fear of you two hearing.
"Yeah I know I have high expectations for myself... that's why I know what it fucking looks like when you're being too hard on yourself. So- tonight I'm coming to your dorm and, I'm making sure you get to bed at a reasonable fucking time."
Mina's eyes widened as she looked at Eijiro, "Coming to their dorm?!" She whispered, and Eijrio covered her mouth, silencing her.
"You mean Grandpa time at 9 p.m.?"
"Shut up! 9 p.m. is late as hell! You damn idiots just don't know how to have a good sleep schedule! Look I'm making sure you get some sleep and tomorrow I'm taking you out. So- figure out where you want to eat, I don't care where. And I'm not letting you say no you need a break," Katsuki replied.
"You don't have to do that Bakugo."
"Of course, I don't have to but, I want to. So just shut up and let me take care of you ok. You better not be afraid to order enough food this time either! I'm buying so- just get whatever you want, alright?"
"Ok ok," You laughed, feeling your mood brighten.
"Next time, just tell me when you're having a bad day or something. Stop making me drag it out of you. I- worry about you, you know? Now let's go back to the dorms. I see you shivering," He said, beginning to walk back down the hill.
Mina squirmed again under Eijiro's hand, keeping her silent. Her eyes said it all. She was in disbelief at Katsuki's words.
"Here," Katsuki said, holding his hand out and offering it to you. "I'll warm your hand with my quirk," he said.
You grabbed his hand interlacing your fingers with his.
"Don't dare say anything about how sweaty my hands are!" He barked.
You giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care Bakugo. It's part of your quirk, and your quirk is amazing you shouldn't be self-conscious about it. Besides, I'm always happy to hold your hand," You said as you two walked down the mountain.
"Tch whatever," Katsuki grumbled looking away from you as a small tint grew on his cheeks.
Finally, when you and Katsuki were far enough down the hill, Eijiro released Mina.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!?" Mina exclaimed.
"Shh shhh," Eijiro pleaded.
"WHAT- He wants to take care of them?!? OH MY GOD! They are totally dating right?! That's what he said he's taking them out to eat! And he's sneaking into their dorm! Wait wait- when they held hands it sounded like that had before! AND AND BAKUGO WAS TOTALLY BLUSHING! NO WAY!" Mina said looking like she might pass out from all this information.
"Ashido relax, we shouldn't have heard any of that!" Eijiro replied.
"Yeah but but-" Mina exclaimed, her head spinning. "Who knew Baklugo could actually be so sweet! I can't wait to tell Jiro-" She said, pulling out her phone.
"NO!" Eijiro said, grabbing her phone from her. "Uh- sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh but- you can't tell anyone what we heard ok?" Eijiro said.
"WHAT?! I just heard Bakugo being the sweetest boyfriend ever and you expect me not to say anything about that?!"
"YES!" Eijiro yelled. "Look they both like their privacy and there is a reason they were all the way up here talking, Ashido. I think we should keep this a secret and let them do things at their own pace ok?" He said, handing Mina back her phone.
"UGH-" She exclaimed letting out a big sigh. "I guess you're right... but wow who would have thought Bakugo could be a decent person much less a good boyfriend." She said.
Eijiro just shrugged at her words, "I don't know he's not a bad guy like you all make him out to be you know."
"Wait! You totally already knew didn't you!" Mina said, slapping Eijiro's shoulder.
"Hey! I mean- Bakugo is my best friend you know, so yeah I did..." He answered truthfully.
"You suck! Keeping secrets like that from me!" Mina said playfully, waving a finger at him.
"I'm sorry, but it's their business you know?" He said.
"Yeah I understand, guess we should go back to the dorms too now," Mina suggested.
"Yeah it is pretty cold up here, let's go." He agreed as they both started to walk down the hill. "I don't have Bakugo's quirk or anything but- if you're cold you can hold my hand too if you want," Eijiro suggested.
Mina's face tinted a darker pink as she reached out and grabbed Eijiro's hand.
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Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries
Picture taken from @everypanelofkatsuki, thank you for all your hard work! Go check them out if you haven’t!
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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only thinking about mizu fucking me with the hilt of her blade….CAN U IMAGINE???? then going off and fighting some battle with it and thinking of how you fell apart on it
Now that is whole other levels of thirst that you've unlocked.
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, sword... eh... I don't know how to tag this there's a sword hilt used for sex, praise, clit sucking, body kissing
Word count: 0.9k
A/N: One of my best friends has a katana he bought in Japan... I can never look at it again.
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Because she wasn't biologically male Mizu got to be a little creative in the ways she made love to you. It often involved her tongue, her fingers, her thighs, the toys she'd get in brothels. But that was while you were in town. On the road there weren't any toys for you to use but she still wanted to give you something of a new experience.
She just didn't know how.
"Mizu." You got her attention away from your naked body and back to your face, "You've been staring at me for the past five minutes. I like it but I thought you wanted to have sex. If you don't I can put my clothes back on and we can go to sleep." Unless you were found by the people chasing you the other day.
She pursed her lips together and ran her free hand through her hair. "I'm trying to think. I don't want to be too far away from my katana. If we're attacked I need to be able to protect us." Her fingers tapped along on the sheath, torn between setting her weapon aside and ravaging you or staying up to be on the lookout.
You inched closer to her and took a seat in her lap, cuddling up to her more than trying to instigate something.
Mizu was happy to wrap an arm around you and hold you close while holding her sword against her shoulder with the other. As she tapped on it again an idea came to her. If Eiji found out...
"Wait, this might be a little unconventional but could you stand up for me?" Your cunt gave an excited flutter at being so close to Mizu's lips. Those soft lips only kissed your stomach and a bit above your cunt, they never actually came to where you wanted them most. Instead Mizu discarded her sword sheath and gripped it at the very bottom of the hilt, the other half placed directly under your cunt. She caught the flicker of hesitation on your face, "You don't have to." Her lips pressed against your hip, "I thought you might enjoy something thicker than my fingers."
You gulped at the implications. The hilt of her sword. Her sword was a part of her, so in a way it wouldn't be that odd to... but still you can't fit all of it. Slowly and carefully you lowered yourself to the end of the handle, feeling the cold against your warm pussy lips. Mizu watched as your pussy opened and adjusted to the hilt, taking in more and more all the way up to her hand.
"Good girl." Mizu kissed your hip again and caressed the other with her free hand. You moaned at her soft praise as you pulled up and sank back down on the hilt, your pussy juices dripping down on her hand. "Go slowly, I don't want you to hurt yourself. Let your cunt adjust." She knew this must feel a little odd but when you didn't protest and instead gripped onto her shoulders so you could balance yourself better she smirked up at you.
You clenched around the sword as you kept going up and down until it was no longer uncomfortable, only making you moan in pleasure. Yes it was still an odd feeling but by no means was it bad.
Mizu pulled you a little closer by the hip, making sure to move her sword to until you were within leaning range of her lips. She waited for you to still before she wrapped her lips around your clit and sucked. It was hard to keep still now but you had to in order for her to keep doing what she was doing. Her tongue flicked at your sensitive nub and made you throw your head back, you let out a long breathy moan, dripping more slick onto him and even past his hand, onto the blade itself.
She pulled back, her lips wet from you and eyes focused on your cunt. "Look at how well you're taking it. Keep going." Finally you could start moving again, deepening your thrusts as she too began moving the sword, but only a little, still letting you do most of the moving.
You felt your walls tighten around it, not caring how lewd you sounded or looked right now, or how filthy this act was, "I'm close... about to come..."
Not without her mouth you weren't. Her tongue was back on you, lapping at your clit, only this time you couldn't keep your hips still, which made you press against her tongue at the same time as you took the hilt back up into your cunt.
Mizu pressed the flat of her tongue against your clit one last time before your body shook, but Mizu was there to catch you and ease the hilt out of your still pulsing pussy, then cupping it with her hand to catch some more slick into her palm. "You were so good." You collapsed into her lap again, head against her chest, breathing fast and heart hammering against your ribcage.
Sadly your bliss was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps and loud voices.
"Shit." Mizu threw her cape over you, "Stay in here. Get dressed in case we need to run." She kissed your cheek quickly and picked up her glasses and her sword. She would protect you, kill any enemy that dares to threaten you with the very same sword she just used to make you orgasm.
There was something both odd and comforting about that. It made you tune out the screams coming from the outside, the strings of curses and sounds of bodies falling onto the floor. But Mizu never fell, she always came back to you, always kept you safe.
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stepdad!ghost x crybaby!girly!reader where he yells at her n it scares her cuz his voice is so deep n booming n she immediately starts crying. it all starts when he’s stressed because of a ton of paperwork he has to get done by that night and he hasn’t been able to because of different things that keep popping up. on top of that, he has to watch over you because your mom is out of town for a few weeks doing god know what.
so it’s safe to say he’s beyond stressed.
it all comes crashing down when you come skipping into his at-home office, a dvd in your hand for a movie he had promised you two would watch that day—before he was emailed a ton of paperwork.
you skip over to him, a small, “what’re you doin?” leaving your lips quietly as you peer over his shoulder.
he knows you just want attention right now, and god, does he want to give it to you.
but he can’t right now, and unfortunately for you, you don’t realize it.
he replies to your question with a gruff, “paperwork.” as he rubs his temple with his index and middle.
“oh.” your reply is short, and you look down at the dvd in hand sadly. “thought we were gonna watch a movie?”
simon tries to ignore the disappointment in your voice, because he knows he would immediately drop everything for you, but he just can’t.
“i know, love, but ‘ve got so much shit to do..what about tomorrow?” he asks, now watching u walk around to the front of his desk as you lean forward on it with your hands planted on the hardwood.
“tha’s what u said yesterday..” you pout, and simon can feel his irritability building in his blood. he doesn’t want to take any of his stress out on you, but if you push further, he’s worried he might.
“i know, princess. ‘m sorry, okay? i promise we will do it tomorrow.” he is now shuffling through his work.
you hate when he isn’t paying attention to you.
your eyes burn as you begin to feel tears sprout to them.
“si..” you squeak, trying to express that you feel lonely—what, with your mom being out all of the time. however, simon seemingly ignores you, too lost in his work. trying to get his attention, you call him what you know will achieve that. “daddy, can u take a break? please?” you beg, fidgeting with the dvd case. ghost’s heart squeezes in his chest at the nickname.
he mentally shakes his head. he has to focus.
“y/n, i already gave you my answer.” he speaks, his voice edging on pure annoyance.
“b-but you promised me! you always have somethin’ more important than me!” you’re fully crying now, and simon genuinely feels bad, but he just has so much to do.
he sighs, standing up to grab a pen from the coffee table. you follow behind him, crying.
“why’re you ignorin me?” you sob, and ghost rolls his eyes. he knows if he doesn’t look at you he won’t give in.
“y/n, stop.” he spits, walking back to his desk and hunching over to sign something.
you continue blubbering nonsense until— “enough! fuckin’ christ!”
his eyes burn into yours until he sees your utter hurt and he’s immediately back-tracking.
“angel..” he says softly right before you run off, and he begins to follow until you slam your bedroom door in his face. “fuck.” he sighs, exhausted.
he knows he scared you. he’s never yelled at you like that before.
he can hear your muffled, hiccuping cries, and he rests his forehead against your door—eyes shut tightly.
he tries your door handle but it’s locked. he knows you need time to decompress right now, so he reluctantly goes back to work for another hour before checking on you.
“princess?” he knocks on your door, and he can hear the movie you two were supposed to watch playing on the tv in your room. “let me in, baby.”
he can hear the sound of you getting off of your bed, then the clicking of the door unlocking. you run immediately back to your pink bed, whimpering like a puppy out of fright.
simon sighs for what seems like the 20th time that day, sitting down on your mattress. his large hand rubbing over the expanse of your back slowly.
“sweet’art, lookat me,” he speaks softly. “didn’t mean ta scare you..’m sorry. jus’ was stressed, baby.”
you turn your head, and he can see the reddening of your puffy eyes from crying so much.
“awh, angel,” he kisses the top of your head, brushing the hair away from your face. “can you forgive me?”
his voice is so soft and gentle you want to cry some more.
you nod, chewing on your lower lip. simon’s jaw ticks as he traces his thumb over the slope of your nose and down to the cupids bow of your soft lips. “sweetest girl ever, y’know that?” he asks, and his heart flutters when you giggle.
he leans forward and gently places a small kiss on your lips.
JANDKD IDK IF I LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER
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meyobe · 9 months
Text
Pretty privilege… no MC privilege.
Lucifer
MC can boss him around however they wish or desire.
He may have a hard exterior but deep down anything MC suggest or implies he will follow.
MC is have trouble with a certain noble? He’s already talking to Diavolo.
MC likes a certain dish for dinner? He makes it every time it’s his turn to cook.
MC is being bullied by a lower demon? That demon is never to be seen from again.
There is never a second thought when to comes to provide a happy MC.
He will spend the rest of his life devoted to MC and ensuring they are never unhappy for a second.
If anyone dare to cross the line, there will be no god or being for them to pray to.
Mammon
MC is able to pull him away from anything he might be doing.
As MC first man he will never be too busy.
You want to rant to him while he’s in the shower? He’s pulling his head out the curtain to show his listening.
You want him to open a pickle jar for you while he’s on the run from Lucifer? He’s the fastest brother for a reason.
You’re being overwhelmed at RAD? Hes making sure you get escorted home immediately, no matter the consequences for ditching.
He made a promise to you and himself that he will show you his worthy of calling himself your first man.
There is no force that can stop him proving himself, to show that his isn’t a scummy demon or a loser but your protector. Protecting your heart day by day.
Leviathan
MC can depend on him no Matter what.
He is not the most dependable brother, but that’s to be noted he knows he’s brother can handle themselves.
But even knowing MC is more then capable, he still find himself helping them out of sticky situations.
He’s your one and true friend remember?
MC missed a sale because they overslept? He stood up all night tp buy you 10 copies.
MC needs a 80% on a test to be able to go out on the weekend? He’ll hacking into the system and up your grade 100%.
MC is in a trouble for sneaking out? MC was with him all night.
He finds the need to show that he can be of use.
No matter how bad a situation may be he will take MC side.
He will show everyone that he is the greatest friend to his dear Henry.
A/n: i just got my nails done and it’s a pain to type without messing up. 😥
Pt 2 is up now!!!!!!!
Part 3 is up!!!!!!
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arieslost · 2 months
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sky full of stars | ln4
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summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.
word count: 3,615
warnings: drinking
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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2021
You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.
But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.
Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.
You needed a closer look.
So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.
When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.
“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.
You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.
You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.
“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”
He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”
That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.
Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”
At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.
“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.
“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.
The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.
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2022
You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.
He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.
“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”
“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”
You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.
Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.
It was working.
Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.
“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.
“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”
You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.
“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”
He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.
The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.
“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.
“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”
Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.
You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.
“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.
“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.
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2023
You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.
Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.
“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.
“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”
Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.
At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.
“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.
“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.
“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.
“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.
“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.
He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.
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2024
You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.
You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.
“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.
“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”
“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.
You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.
You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.
So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.
“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.
“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.
“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”
He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?
He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.
“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.
You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”
Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.
Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.
You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”
Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”
“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”
“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.
“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”
“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.
“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.
It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.
“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.
“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”
You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.
“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.
“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”
He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”
The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.
“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.
“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”
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note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee
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karmavongrim · 3 months
Text
Dear Father fanfic idea
DC x DP crossover fanfiction
Fanfic idea of Danny adopting everyone. He’s worse than Batman since he does it 200% deliberately with no age nor race restriction.
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“Absolutely fucking not.”
Yeah, nope. No way in hell was he, John mother-fucking Constantine going to let this happen. Only over his dead body, which might actually be the case by the end of the bloody day if they couldn’t come up with something else other than that. And he wasn’t going to change his mind no matter how much the kid currently gallivanting as a demi-god whined. Wasn’t that a news when he found out several months ago.
“Come on Constans, we both know he wouldn’t mind. Besides what else can we do, we’ve tried everything.” Captain Marvel pleaded with the older man as he gestured their surroundings.
It couldn’t be described as anything else other than apocalyptic. A complete fucking shitshow.
Apparently a prophecy of some kind came to fruition right under their bloody noses and they were left grasping straws to try and stop the end of the world from happening. If only-
“Call him or I’ll call him John! Your choice.” Pressed Marvel who was getting fed up with the magician’s nonsense but he wasn’t bugging, no siree!
“Shut up, we don’t need his help! Just let me-” John yelled while buried head first in his spell book, desperately trying to find away that didn’t require him to relinquish the last few pits of his shabby dignity. Or what was left of it anyways. But Marvel was having non of it.
“Nope, that’s it! I’m making the call!” The red glad man shouted over the blonde brit and pulled out his personal phone which looked like it had been pulled strait out of a sci-fi movie.
This caused John to lunge at Marvel who in return floated away out of his reach.
“Are you daft? I’ll never hear the end of it so don’t even- Hey! Don’t you dare, I swear-!” They were quickly interrupted by a black looming silhouette quickly approaching them.
“I hope that you two have come up with something since you’re able to play around like this.” Batman demanded in gruff manner, man looking worse for wear just like the rest of them. Marvel swiftly positioned the dark one between him and his would-be assailant.
“Oh we did have a solution from the very start but someone thinks that we don’t need any help. His poor ego wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He told as he threw a look over his makeshift barrier’s shoulder.
“Shut your cakehole.” John hissed but was reluctantly put in place by a hard glare from mister darker and gloomier who turned to the floating magic-user.
“What is this solution exactly? Help from who or what?” At his inquiry the boy-man hero couldn’t help but beam when he began to explain what, or rather who he had in mind.
“Well I was thinking calling our-” But he was rudely cut in before he could get far.
“We aren’t calling anybody because we don’t need his help! We can take care of this on our own!” Batman turned back to the blond and was clearly at the end of his patience.
“We are running on borrowed time Constantine, if there is any chance to for us to stop this then we should take it since we don’t have any other options left.”
The two began to argue so heatedly that they didn’t pay attention to Marvel speed dialing the number he kept close to his heart. With a dopey grin he bounced on his heels while he waited for the other side to answer. After just two rings the line connected.
“Hi kid! What are you calling in for, did you get out of work already?” A jovial, baritone voice rang out which instantly relaxed the kid-not-kid hero. The all-composing feeling of warmth, protection and safety could almost be felt through the phone which never failed to make him feel comfortable and at peace.
“Hi dad! No, I’m still at work and we kinda shorta need your help. Badly.”
He could near feel the change in his father’s mood and he definitely heard it in his voice.
“What do you need? Where are you?” Came the rapid questioning. His smile never left as he thought how dad always went strait to business when it came to his family and friends. Always ready to help no matter what or why.
“Well, apparently the apocalypse is happening and we have no idea how to stop it… Can you help us? Please?” He tentatively asked as he glanced back at the bickering duo. Sometimes he asked himself if he really was the only secret child there.
“Ha ha, no need to beg, let alone ask. I’ll be there in a jiffy once I know where you guys are. Just try and hang in there kid.” Voice on the other side commented in lighter tone.
Marvel let out a sigh. He knew that everything would be okay after all.
“Thanks dad. We are currently stuck on Metropolis in it’s central, it’s a complete mess in here.”
“Everything will be fine. See you soon.” The voice chuckled and cut the call.
Yes, everything would be just fine. He turned to call out to the idiots who looked to be near ripping each other a new one.
“You two can stop now, he’s already on his way!”
He had to wince at the speed which the blonde turned his head to stare at him. Then came the familiar cursing.
“Fucking shite!”
He merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in irritation. He glared at the magician.
“Seriously, what’s your problem? It doesn’t have to be this difficult you know.”
Before John could comment, Batman pushed pass and stalked up to Marvel.
“Who did you call?”
He couldn’t say much before more of their fellow heroes started to trickle in. Flash no surprise being the first.
“Hope you got something up your utility belt Bats, we can’t take this much longer.” Pleaded the red speedster. He was joined by Green Lantern carrying injured Superman and ouch did he look roughened up.
“Have to agree with Flashpoint. Were running out of juice fast, and even Big Blue is out cold.”
Marvel looked at the others coming in. Martian Manhunter, Zatara, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and even Doctor Fate was there, none of them looking any better.
“Well, I’m glad to announce that help is on their way so we can all sit back and relax for a bit. This will be over in no time.” He declared brightly.
The others goggled at him like he made the most outlandish statement in all of history, minus Constantine who has decided to use this small window of calm to drown his headache in his flask while he still can.
“What the hell are you on about? What help? Who could possibly help with this!” Flash yelled out the question in everybodies mind.
“I would like to known this too finally.” Batman demanded this as well.
Seeing everybody hanging onto his up coming explanation he smirked at John who gave him oh-so-eloquently middle finder in retaliation. Well to bad, he would have to just deal with it, the big baby.
“Oh nobody too important, just the most powerful and influential being in all multiverse. Some of you might know him by his monikers like the First Champion, the Balancer, the High King and the Great One.” He said flippantly as he pretended to check his nails, trying his absolute best to hid his smug smile when he noticed Zatara and Fate going rigid and pale.
Zatara near stumbled thanks to his shaking knees. He took couple faltering steps towards the Champion of Magic. His expression mix of reverence and fear as started to whisper as if dreading that someone or something might hear him if he spoke too loudly.
“Y-You couldn’t possibly mean King-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence for they all felt the change in the air, in the ground.
He has arrived.
Time came to a crawl, the world slowed it’s movements in face of approaching force. It quaked, it trembled, it slithered. Leak becoming a downpour, a tear in reality of sickly green opened above the group, high out of reach. What little light still had remained in the hellish landscape around them were drained as if all the world’s shadow congregated around the opening to greet its master like a deprived servant. Then a figure of black and white caped in light seemingly holy, descended from it. Even from afar they could distinguish their towering form who’s muscles failed to hide under its full-body armor. Their mountainous presence becomes more and more apparent the closer they came. What they thought as wings of pure and white was actually a cape of moving light.
Blazing green eyes as that of the tear gazed upon them from under their moonlight hair, which coupled with the iron grown of flames created figures of shadow dancing across their hardened features as if to praise their beholder’s glory.
Zatara had already collapsed on the ground in utter disbelieve. All the myths and legends were true all along.
“King Phantom.” He spoke in awe and bowed before the king as did equally shocked Doctor Fate.
“Hi dad!” Marvel yelled and dragged the laughing magician by his coat to greet their new arrival.
All of their associates looked between the clear powerhouse of a being and their red heavy hitter in utter incredulity at the revelation. Zatara and Fate near had a heart attack at the way their magical colleague addressed the mythical presence. Marvel had a father? And this horrifying existence was it? What sent them reeling even more was how the king’s responded.
With his arms stretched he lowered himself fully to gather the two smaller men in his embrace.
“Kids! Boy, when you said that you needed help bad I think you might have underestimated a tiny bit.” He joked with a toothy smile as he moved to get a better look at his more-or-less willing captees of his affection. His expression softened even more at the face of Constantine, not the others could see.
“John, it’s so good to see you as well.” He said softly and ruffled both of their hairs, eliciting a laugh from his youngest and indignant pout from his fourth oldest who tried to swat the offending hand away.
“Whatever.” John growled but Phantom didn’t mind since he could see the blush caking his scratched up cheeks.
Now this drew his attention, both of his boys were in horrendous shape and he would do something about it after his job was completed. Looking at the blood willed sky no longer colored by his green and the burning wreckage that is this dimensions earth, he knew he didn’t have much time.
“I suppose we should get this over with then. You two better get back to the Keep after this, understood.” He stated and then was gone just like that.
Now that the oppressive feeling of death and power has left along with the godly being, every single one of the heroes present turned to the two for explanation. Marvel send a pleading look towards his brother, but John pointedly turned away and began to nurse his briefly forgotten drink which was now empty, damn you dad.
Discreetly gulping his nerves down he twirled to face his peers.
“Okay, let’s start with one question at a time please.”
This caused the floodgates to open and Zatara practically jumped him in his feverishness.
“You are a son of King Phantom? The King Phantom? I thought he was nothing more than a myth! A legend told through out several histories!”
As Marvel was trying to dislodge the man he was approached by Doctor Fate.
“I too held the believe that he was nothing more than a story to strike fear onto the forces of evil and to aspire heroes of both old and new. To think he was real this entire time.” He mused, and before Marvel could say anything, Flash barged in as well.
“And what about you John? This might be the first time I’ve seen any otherworldly being be happy to see you.” He pointed at the man who chose to wisely stay far behind.
“Fuck you too!” Shouts the offended man from the back. Even if it’s true doesn’t make it any less rude. And oh look here comes Batman.
“Enough! Marvel, explain.” He demands as he moves effortlessly to the front of the pack.
“Well… you see-” Marvel stammers as he tries under the pressure to come up with something to say but was thankfully saved by the sky shifting again.
As quick as a snap the red sky was returned to its blue color, signaling the King’s victory over his enemy. Marvel smiled widely and even John couldn’t stop a heavy sigh of relieve from escaping his mouth. Good old dad, always up to any task he comes across.
“Incredible.” Wonder Woman gasped, even Lantern had to give an impressed eyebrow at the instant change in atmosphere. And while everyone was distracted by his dad’s handiwork, Marvel shimmied his way to the grumpy magician who was in progress of making his getaway.
“I think we should continue this some other time, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and me and my bro need to do a little house call. So bye!” He called out with a wave as he was crabbed and transported to their destination before anyone could stop them.
Others could do more than blink as Batman stewed in his place. In Lantern’s arms Superman began to stir.
“H-huh, what did I miss?”
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