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mrchiipchrome · 4 months

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Glass Child

W.C. - 6 k

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The middle child. Often known as the “forgotten” sibling, the one who never gets enough love, never enough attention, the one who’s never enough.

Never the one to blow out their own candles on their birthdays, never the one to get driven to their evening practices even when it was rainy and muddy. Never the one to get told they’re loved, nor that they’re enough. Never the one to be the favourite.

Yet always the one to listen to their parents argue late into the night, always the one to be blamed, always the one pressured to do great academically. Always the one who has to prove and find their place in the family, yet never actually finding it.

One older brother and one younger sister, that was what you had, one sibling on either side of you for every family photo but never for anything more. Your brother was out of the house before you could turn 6 and your younger sister was what your parents liked to call a rainbow child.

She had nearly died at birth after all, not enough oxygen going to the brain leading to slight mental disabilities and getting all your parents love. You weren’t even sure they had ever told you that they were proud of you. No, all their attention was always on Lila.

No matter how much you vyed for their attention, no matter how many accomplishments you had, the trophies and diplomas you brought home, their attention was always on Lila.

Lila, the golden child. Lila who could do no wrong. Lila who even after screaming and punching you, would get a hug and kiss on the head.

You, who were left to raise yourself. You, who were never enough for them, never good enough to be loved and cherished like your sister or even your brother who had left you. You, who had the weight of the world on your shoulders with no one to help carry it.

Every footballing tournament you’d ever had would be about Lila, what did Lila want? Was Lila comfortable? Does Lila want to go home?

Well that was when they actually made the effort to come, something you could count on one singular hand how many times they’d done. No, to sit through a few minutes of football for their daughter to feel needed and wanted was far too difficult for them.

Anything not involving Lila was far too difficult for them. Anything not revolving around herself was far too complex for Lila to comprehend, the second your parents looked away from her she was kicking and screaming and they were forced to look at her, whilst you were left unloved and unseen.

So when your brother started to visit once a month, you couldn’t have been more excited. There would finally be someone to be there for you, someone that would look at you for once, appreciate your existence.

Well he started out like that. He’d come to your games and cheer you on, he’d take you out for ice cream after just the two of you. For the first time in your life you didn’t feel invisible.

But then as time started to pass, he came home less and less, until the visits were so few and far between that he practically disappeared from your life. Gone were the days of feeling wanted and needed, you were back to being a ghost in your own life.

Even coaches started to forget you, it was like you just blended into the background, like you were invisible.

Then slowly, your teammates started to ignore you too, barely even looking at the shell of a person you were during exercises. And slowly you started to accept it, the role of the ghost.

You put your head down, working even harder in school and on the pitch, only this time it was for yourself and not for anyone else.

Slowly it got harder for your coaches and teammates to ignore your ever growing presence, but it was made easier for them when you ignored them back. It might’ve not been the best coping mechanism, but it was one nonetheless.

When you got the offer to play at a big youth academy, you just ran home to tell your parents, purely by a combination of hope and excitement. It was in your excitement that you completely forgot who they were.

“MUM! DAD! I got into an academy in the city!” You shouted as soon as the door closed behind you, football bag with only the essentials in it dropping to the floor loudly.

“What is this ruckus Y/n. You know better than to interrupt Lila’s sleeping time. Pick your bag up and go to your room right this second young lady.” Despite her shouting louder than you had, you were still the one who got in trouble.

“But I just wanted to tell you-” The words come out defeated, your parents not once being happy for you taking a toll on your entire being.

“But nothing.” She says sternly, pointing to the stairs. Head pointing towards the floor, you don’t let her see the salty tears forming in the corners of your eyes. She wouldn’t care anyway, not when her precious Lila still existed.

The walls shook with the amount of force you used to slam the door closed, the shouts of your mother lighting up the corridors like fireworks. The tears finally escaped when you were in the comfort of your own room, throwing your bag down to the floor harshly.

The bag wasn’t your source of frustration but once again it didn’t have any feelings either, it couldn’t see or feel, neither could it gain consciousness. So, it was the best thing to take out all your frustrations on.

But no matter how much you kicked and punched, no matter how many bruised knuckles you got from the hard materials inside the bag, it still didn’t get better.

Your parents weren’t going to magically start to care for you just because of some bruises, not when you had come home with far worse and they still hadn’t cared. You didn’t exist to them, their lives only revolved around Lila, the sun to their earths.

Picking up a plastic figurine from the ratty old desk you had inherited from your brother, you launch it across the room and directly into the wall. With a pop, the head of the Captain America figurine separates from the body, rolling across the hardwood floor almost mockingly.

When the realization of what you’d done hit, you dropped down to your knees with a thud. Picking up the scratched and broken toy off the floor, you clutch the parts to your chest tightly like they would disappear if you loosened your hold ever so slightly.

How could you break the only thing your brother had ever given you? ‘Keep it safe for me, yeah?’ He told you when he left the house you grew up in the last time, he had said that he didn’t need it where he was going. You knew in the back of your mind that he wouldn’t care about the broken state of the toy, but the overwhelming and conflicting feelings waging a war inside you amplified your emotions tenfold.

You weren’t used to this, crying. No, it was much easier to compartmentalize your feelings, to experience your feelings rationally and not as emotionally as you just had.

But it seems like the feelings were far too strong this time, creating an earthquake of sorts in your mind that opened all the drawers of the imaginative dresser where you stored all your emotions. And so they hit you all at once, all the negative emotions and thoughts crashing into you like powerful waves.

Eventually there were no tears left to fall, empty sobs escaping your mouth every now and then, face buried in your knees with your back up against the wall. Breathing in deeply, you lean your head back against the colorless wall, wishing you could be anywhere but there at that moment.

Bringing your hands up to your face, they slowly fall back down to your sides, your muscles relaxing for the first time since you had come home. There was no point in just sitting there and sulking, the pitch not too far from your house calling your name.

Walking over to the bag, you open it up and pull out the old boots, they were falling apart at the seams but that didn’t matter. They would work another 6 or so months, as long as you stitched them back together.

The window creaked as you opened it up, throwing your now closed bag onto the bushes that lined your house. Climbing over the ledge, you sit down on the wooden lining, hands coming down to clutch the material tightly. Turning your body around, you lower yourself down until your arms are fully stretched out, pressing your feet to the wall and pushing your body away from the building.

Landing on your feet, you hurry to pick the bag up off the bush with calloused hands, the years of carrying the bag back and forth from training having taken its toll on your hands. Quick steps echo in the night air, nearing the uncared for pitch in record time.

Soon enough the thwack of your boot hitting the ball over and over is the only thing that can be heard, cleats ripping into the grass and pulling up the deep brown dirt underneath it. By the time you were done your knees ached and your feet were even worse, the boots not the most comfortable things in the world.

With some luck, you manage to find a ladder at the corner of your house, leaning it up against the brick wall of the house and climbing up it carefully. When you’re safely inside your room, you push the ladder away and close the window.

It becomes a routine of sorts, wake up, go to school, take the bus to the academy training grounds, train, go home, study and then go out to the pitch for another 2 or so hours of football. It was good, out there you could forget everything and just focus on getting better.

And that you did, quickly becoming one of the best youngsters not only in your academy but also in the country, much to your surprise. Life wasn’t slow and boring anymore, it was fast paced and fun for you.

Months passed by, a U-15 call up hitting your desk a single month before you turn 13, leaving you to celebrate your birthday alone in your hotel room. There was no way that you would tell a bunch of strangers of such a trivial thing, it wasn’t like they had even noticed you there, they already had their friend groups.

Thankfully, you seemed to have impressed the right people as you got called up time and time again after, showing everyone why you deserved to be there with strategic kicks of the ball and passes not even most professional players could make. It came naturally after so many hours of playing and subsequently watching people play.

Camp after camp you watched your teammates interact with each other, see them laugh and smile with their friends whilst you were on the outside looking in. It was no longer a problem, being alone, an expectation rather than a surprise.

Luckily enough for you, the senior call up happened only weeks after turning 16, leaving the older girls to take you under their wing. It was certainly…different, a completely new experience.

You had finally reached the top that you’d yearned for, getting recognised for being one of the best footballers in the entirety of England. The years of invisibility far gone, now praised enormously for the efforts you made during each and every game.

It got overwhelming quickly, all the attention from coaches and outlets alike only fuelling your need to perform, leading to countless hours spent out on the muddy pitch. Football, no matter how stressful, was your reprieve. Your savior of sorts.

You’d think after countless hours spent with your football that your passion for the sport would burn out, but in your case all it did was reinforce your spirit.

At 17 you got the option to either sign a professional contract with your youth club or go to America for college football on a full ride scholarship. Your decision to choose the latter of the two was less than popular with your parents.

“Mum, dad. Can you two give me your attention for once?” You question, sitting at the dinner table only meters away from where they’re washing the dishes.

“Why don’t you wait until the adults are done?” Your sorry excuse of a father shoots back, chuckling with your mother.

“I’m going away for college soon. In America.” The clanging of utensils hitting the metal surface of the sink interrupts the tense silence created by your statement.

“What did you just say?” Her tone was dangerously sweet and calm, almost trying to lure you into a false sense of security.

“You heard exactly what I said. There is no opinion to be had here, I was simply paying you two the courtesy to know.” Despite your tone being nonchalant, you were anything but. Leg bouncing up and down anxiously under the table, fingers fidgeting with each other.

“No. Y/n Y/l/n you are not leaving us to fend for ourselves, not like your brother. We need you here, Lila needs you.” Your mother basically pleads with you, reaching across the table to take hold of your hands.

Before she can even try to get near them, you pull them back towards your body harshly.

“Oh so now you need me? Now that I’m leaving you need me?” Your father has his arm slung around your mother’s shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down against her arm. “What about all the times I needed you two? All of the countless tournaments I participated in only for the coaches to ask me where you two were. You two have caused me so much pain and embarrassment.”

“That’s unfair, your sister needed us more.” Your father tells you harshly, eyes drilling holes into the sides of your head.

“So? I couldn’t get one second of your time once a year?” You ask incredulously, their eyes widening in exasperation. “Me leaving for college isn’t even going to change anything, all you two do is care about Lila.” The last part comes out mumbled, so that the two adults in front of you couldn’t hear.

“I do not care for what you have to say, you are not going anywhere.”

“And why not?” The card up your sleeve hasn’t been played yet, you wanted to revel in their expressions.

“Because we’re the adults here and we decide.” He responds lowly, as if trying to intimidate you.

“Oh but you’re forgetting something. As of an hour ago I am officially 18 years old and I get to decide whether I go or not.” You have to keep from laughing when their faces drop almost comically, eyes wide and jaws on the floor.

And so without much protest, they let you leave your childhood house only days later, getting on a plane out to North Carolina. It didn’t matter that the official season hadn’t started yet, you just wanted to get away.

Weeks passed by before any familiar faces appeared, the Brits you’d met during your stint in the youth groups of the national team. They were part of the main friend group, hugging and laughing with each other every second they got.

In reality, you had found them rather annoying at that age, shrill voices interrupting the otherwise peaceful environment. That’s why you could often be found in your hotel room, studying or messing around with a plushie football.

This time around you had been informed that you were to share a dorm with one of them, something you weren’t that opposed to. They were all nice after all, just a bit loud.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard but we do in fact have another Brit here in the team, someone the two of you have probably encountered before.” The loud voice of one of your American teammates floats through the hallway leading to your room, the notes just about getting through the music streaming into your ears.

“Oh shit.” Rushing to close all the open books on the table in front of you, the light knock on your door is heard through the bustling. “Come in” You let out nervously.

“Alessia, Lotte meet our resident Brit, Y/n Y/l/n!” The jazz hands coming from the older American doesn’t hide the absolute mess of your room. Your suitcase was laying messily on the ground, your body the only thing in the way of the war stricken look of your table.

Sticking your hand out towards the women, there’s a slight crash behind you, face scrunching up in a way that suggests that you were uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry for the mess, I completely forgot about everything I was supposed to be doing today.” They both shake your hand, the brunette taking a firm hold of your hand whilst the blonde grasps your hand lightly with her much softer one.

The blonde looks around the room, a bed on either side of the room, one looking occupied and the other one bare.

“So Y/n, Alessia here is going to be sharing this dorm with you, plenty of time to get to know each other before the season starts.” All the American accents were hard to get used to, often quite startling.

You both nod your heads, not finding much to say regarding the arrangement. Alessia gets a pat on the back from the older student, letting her suitcase drop to the ground carefully.

“Come on then Lotte, let’s get you situated!” As soon as they appeared, they disappeared out of the messy room, Lotte following after the American like a duckling would its mother.

As the door closes behind them the room gets covered in a thick blanket of silence, Alessia still standing where she stood coming into the room and you with your back now turned to her, picking up the papers.

“Please excuse the state of our room, I completely forgot that you were coming.” The words fall out of your mouth clumsily, your social skills still not up to par.

“Oh I understand, don’t worry.” Her voice is honey-like, smooth and sweet, almost like a Disney princess. When you turn back around the first thing you notice is her incredible beauty, something you didn’t exactly see before in your nervosity.

“You’re in the senior squad right?” She asks, looking back at you with her baby blue doe eyes. Her intense gaze leaves you to clear your throat loudly, eyes blinking vigorously.

“Yeah I am.” The pitch of your voice peaks up at the end, leaving your statement to sound more like a question than anything. Her melodic giggles fill the room, your heart thumping painfully against your ribs at the sound.

“Are you asking me?” Her hands come up to tuck the hair that’s fallen in her face back behind her ears, her eyes scanning over your pajama clad body.

“Yeah I am.” You say more confidently this time, trying to right your earlier wrong. “Wait, wait, no” Her laugh mixes with yours this time, Alessia’s adorable expression lighting up the room. When the laughter halts, she stands up more straight with her hand out towards you, ready for you to take with your own.

“Come on, take my hand.” The forward urges you playfully, her head tilting a fraction to the right. Her hand feels warm in your own when you grasp it, a soft smile sent your way by the older girl making your insides all warm. “Hi, I’m Alessia Russo but my friends call me Less.” Alessia decides that the crease that appears between your eyebrows is adorable, her eyes flitting over your face.

“We’ve already been introduced?” This time the questioning tone is meant, genuine confusion plaguing your mind.

“I know, but just humor me for a second, okay?” The warmth flooding from your hand up throughout your body seemingly gives life to the butterflies fluttering their wings in your stomach. An unfamiliar but not unwelcome feeling.

“Hello, I’m Y/n Y/l/n but my teammates call me Ghost or some variant of it.” You reply cheekily, hand coming down to rest at your side.

“Why is that?” She speaks up, a confused tone lingering in her voice.

“Because I’m a ghost from the 1700s that’s haunting this college.” Raising your hands up above your head, you let out an ‘ooo’ sound imitating a ghoul.

Her giggles start back up again, the midday sun peeking in through the blinds, leaving pale stripes on the dark floor. The comfortable silence between you two stays for a while, neither one of you really moving from where you’re seemingly glued to the floor.

Eventually she turns back to her bag, starting to unpack her luggage tentatively, not really knowing where to put her things.

After some thinking she seems to get a bit more comfortable, throwing her stuff here and there still making sure to keep to her side. The headphones resting over your ears play no music, allowing you to hear her humming under her breath, singing softly to the tune.

In the months that passed after your official introduction quite a lot happened. For starters, the college season started after a lot of struggle on your and Alessia’s part, Lotte fitting in with the other girls almost immediately. The blonde had a sense of protectiveness over you, the clear lack of social skills on your part making her pay extra attention to you to make sure that you weren’t alone.

Though there was that awkward moment when the striker asked you where your parents were after the first game, because surely it was too important to miss. The worried glance she shoots you when you make up a half-assed lie about them not getting enough time off to fly out and watch you.

Needless to say, you spend the rest of that day in the library so that she can show her parents around the campus. And like the very mature 18 year old you are, as soon as you hear the sweet accented voice of your teammate in the quiet library you shoot up from your place on the old bean bag, weaving through the rows of books in order to escape your roommate and her happy family.

It wasn’t your fault per se that you were slightly jealous of her having parents that cared for her, and it sure as hell wasn’t her fault that yours were the way they were. It was better to just stay out, so that you wouldn’t get attached to a family that wasn’t your own.

Later that night, when her parents had left for their hotel, she questioned you intently on where you were the entire afternoon. Another lie followed, you telling her that you just had things to do, things that you couldn’t tell her about.

She eventually let it go, but not before giving you a suspicious glance through the corner of her eye. You clearly weren’t good at lying, something she could see rather easily.

“So, Y/n, do you wanna have breakfast with me and my parents tomorrow? They’ve been dying to finally meet you.” She asks, sitting down on your bed, her legs dangling off the end. Her hand comes up to lay on your leg, goosebumps rising on your skin whereupon her hand rests.

A blush rises on your face, both at the question and her hand. You hadn’t even realized that she’d told her parents about you, but now it was obvious, parents in the movies always asked their kids all about college.

“Oh uhm, you know, I don’t want to intrude on your time with your parents.” Lifting your hand up, you make the motion of waving her off, not expecting her free hand to take yours.

“You wouldn’t be, they asked to meet you since you were so ‘busy’ today.” Her eyes stare into your soul, still soft and caring. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Alessia’s baby blues look down at the pattern on your blanket, her hand on your leg tracing the patterns into your skin.

“NO, no, believe me Alessia, I would love to go…” Your voice trails off softly, looking for the correct words so as to not reveal exactly why you were hesitant.

“But…” She continues your sentence.

“But I’m not good with people, and I don't want to give them the wrong impression of me. Family’s important for you, from what I’ve heard, and I just want yours to like me.” Somehow her eyes soften even more, the blonde girl moving up the bed to settle beside you, her arm snaking over your shoulders. Your head lands on her collarbone, one hand still holding onto hers tightly.

“Don’t you worry, if I like you, which I do, then they will like you as well.” She smiles down at you, faces inches from the other’s.

A knock on the door interrupts the moment, the loud noise making the two of you jump apart. The door opens with a creak and Lotte pops her head into the room, a large smile on her face at your and Alessia’s seeming closeness.

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” She asks teasingly, Alessia immediately shooting her the meanest glare she could muster up, though that was like being glared at by a marshmallow. Your face on the other hand was redder than a tomato, the insinuating words making you nervous.

“No not at all, I was just about to leave for my evening run, I’ll see you both later!” You basically sprinted out of the room as soon as you had shoes on your feet, taking to jogging your normal round more than once.

By the time you were back in the dorm room, your feet were aching unpleasantly and your blonde counterpart was asleep. It was a begrudgingly difficult task to tiptoe around the room without waking the blue eyed girl, but in the end you managed not to wake her.

Though she’s not nearly as careful the next morning, stomping around like a maniac and making a bunch of noise for you to wake up to.

“Less, what are you doing? Let me sleep.” The last word of your sentence was drawn out thoroughly, groaning as you stretch out your body.

“Nope, no time! We’re meeting my parents in 20 minutes at the cafe.” She comes up and boops your nose before letting you spring up from the bed, rushing around the room at 100 km/h, gathering up all your nice looking clothes and letting Alessia choose the optimal pairing.

All the way to the off campus cafe you were stressed, but the way Alessia’s hand fit so snuggly in your own was a little comforting. She knew about your anxious nature around new people, even if those people were the least judgmental ever.

“It’s going to go great Y/n, my parents already love you, trust me, there’s basically no way that you can make them hate you.” Her words soothing you more than she’ll ever know, your shoulders feeling like they’d had a massive weight lifted off them.

With newfound confidence, you get through the breakfast like a champ, even enjoying the entire thing. Alessia’s parents were everything yours weren’t, they were kind and generous, loving and sweet and all around great people. You wondered what it would be like to grow up with parents like them instead of yours.

And it seems like you made a good first impression on them too, because as you and Alessia said your goodbyes they gave you the warmest hugs you’d ever gotten paired with a big kiss on the cheek.

Alessia couldn’t understand why you burst into tears as soon as the two of you were in the comfort of your own dorm. It came so suddenly, the tears that seemed never ending and the sobs that echoed around the small room.

As soon as Alessia heard the first sob escaping your throat she turned around, being met with the sight of your hands covering your face, trying to subside the tears streaming down your face.

“Hey, hey, what happened love? Why are you crying?” Her voice grows worried quickly as her hands take hold of your forearms. She tries to remove your hands from the premise of your face, thinking that you’d hurt yourself.

“It’s nothing, it’s just…your parents are such wonderful people and I guess I just wish that mine were the same.” You regret the sobbed words as soon as they exit your mouth, of course you would be so stupid as to tell her about your parents. Now you’d have to tell her the truth about them, there was simply no avoiding it.

“Oh, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you mean?” Her voice is softened, like when talking to a baby, and her arms hold you tight against her chest. Alessia’s hands move from your forearms and down around your back, rubbing her hand up and down softly.

You’d known each other for months yet the topic of your parents hadn’t come up once. It was funny really, the way that they’d destroyed your childhood.

Inbetween a couple sniffles you begin the whole story, speaking slowly so as to not burst out in tears at every broken memory, every missed game, every single thing they’d not done for you.

“Uhm, I don’t really know where to start, but I know it all started with the birth of Lila, my sister. She was a…difficult pregnancy for my mom and uh when she was born there were complications. She didn’t get enough oxygen to her brain and uh that led to her being disabled, not enough for it to impact her life but enough for my parents to uhm…get attached to her. She’s their ‘rainbow baby’ and it seems like everything she’s ever done overshadows any of my or my brother’s achievements. It’s like as soon as they brought her home from the hospital both me and my brother were invisible. But he was lucky, he got to go off to uni within a year of her birth, me? I had to wait 14 years to get out.” You let out a humourless laugh at the end, not even looking the blonde in the eye after she tried to get you to.

“They never came to a game, no matter how big of a deal it was, they always let my sister blow out my candles on my birthday cake and they gave her more gifts on MY birthday than they did me. You want to know what they did when I told them that I had been recruited by an academy? They told me to shut up because my sister needed rest. On my senior team debut they left early because my sister wanted to get ice cream, it was the one moment for me to show them that I didn’t need them to be great, do you understand how embarrassing it was to look around for your parents after scoring twice on your national team debut only to see that they’re not there? The embarrassment of being asked why you’re not celebrating with your family? Of being worth so little to the people who made you that they couldn’t even be assed to sit for ninety minutes for their daughter? All I’ve ever wanted was for them to notice me, love me, care about me, but all that wishful thinking went away that day. I no longer cared for them or anything other than my teammates and footy. So yeah, that’s the entire story.” You didn’t even notice that you’d been talking for the past 30 minutes nor that tears spilled out of both you and Alessia’s eyes. When you finally looked up and in her eyes, they were filled with salty tears just like your own, tears that fell quietly and slid down her face peacefully.

Bringing your hand up, you quickly wipe her face softly, her baby blues enhanced by the layer of tears over them, slight redness to the whites of her eyes.

Alessia’s eyes bore into your own, her eyes expressing hundreds of feelings, everything from sorrow and empathy to love and kindness. It’s not until she looks down at your chapped lips that you finally understand what it is you’ve been feeling since you first met her again after so many years.

It wasn’t nervousity or stress, it was love. Pure, genuine, unconditional love. You were utterly in love with the striker. And by the way she was inching her face closer to yours, she was pretty in love with you too.

Your lips meet hers in a soft and innocent embrace, all your emotions spilling into the kiss. Her lips were soft and they tasted of strawberries, her favourite chapstick the same taste.

Your lips moved against each other’s softly for just a moment shorter than you wanted. Her eyes were closed as you opened yours just a sliver, observing the way one of Alessia’s hands comes up to touch at her kiss swollen lips softly.

When her eyes finally do open, they’re met with still tear stained cheeks and a big happy smile. The baby blues meet yours and they instantly see the love and adoration in them, it’s so obvious that she nearly starts crying again.

“Okay love, before we talk about what just happened i want to say that your parents missed out on the best person I’ve ever met. You are so wonderful and beautiful and you have so many wonderful people who love you to death, me being one of them. During the last few months that you have been apart of my life you’ve showed me that it’s possible to love someone more than anything. You have endless passion for football and for your friends, you’ve inspired me to become a better person simply by being you and that’s one of the most amazing things that I’ve ever witnessed. You’ve done a better job at raising yourself than most parents do with their kids and I want you to know that I’m so proud of you. I can’t comprehend how they could be so blind that they missed what a wonderful person you are. I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you, your hair a mess from pulling at it and books scattered all around the room. I love you so much that it feels like I’m going to burst whenever I’m around you.” You can see the sincerity in her eyes as she looks at you, smiling ever so slightly.

“I love you too Alessia. I’m so in love with you that I’m going mad.” The way she picks herself up from the floor has you convinced that she’s going to leave you there where you sit on the floor, all alone. Only that’s not what she does, instead she holds out her hand for you to take.

“Come on love, go get cleaned up so I can take you on a date.” Her hand playfully taps your behind as you walk away towards the sink to wash the tears off your face, and you turn around to glare at her playfully.

5 long years later and you’re lifting the Euros trophy alongside your co-captain and subsequent maid of honour Leah and your longtime girlfriend soon turned fiancée.

All you could think after she said yes was how incredibly lucky you were to have someone like her in your life.

#woso #alessia russo #unc soccer #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #lionesses #arsenal wfc

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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 1 year

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One thing I feel like we don't talk about enough is the fact that Haymitch was 16 when he won the Second Quarter Quell, against 47 other children, 12 Careers among them.

We often see him portrayed as a drunk and a lazy bastard, but the amount of skill and cunning it takes to survive THE HARDEST HUNGER GAMES IN HISTORY. No one understands how he's managed to survive an arena with twice the tributes, or even figure out how the poison works. But Haymitch just doesn't trust the excess, the berries, the green. And he's lived with hunger before. He can take it for a while. When he finds his first body in the arena, the perfectly brown nuts still in his hands, he decides not to eat anything but what's in his backpack. Then, after killing two Careers and being saved from death by Maysilee, they team up and figure out a system to safely drink the rainwater and kill other tributes and scavenge from their backpacks, to make sure that they don't die from poisoning. And being skilled enough at fighting to pressure the Career into throwing her ax at him. Even with half his guts hanging out she apperently wanted none of the smoke. And not only understanding from previous Games, apperently, that the arena ends somewhere, but using it to his advantage. It is astounding.

Then he comes back and the Capitol kills everyone he cares about. This 16 year old boy is surviving the most brutal onslaught in the history of the Games and comes home, traumatized, hurt beyond belief, both mentally and physically - seeing an ally and friend die in his arms, almost dying from taking an axe to the stomach, having to kill no less than 3 Careers - only to see his family and girlfriend murdered.

And as if that isn't enough, he has to spend the next 24 years watching his tributes, all of them the same age he was or younger, die in the arena, all alone. There is no one else to help him shoulder that grief. He has the worst district, where no one ever wins, so he sees 2 children he mentors die every year, and the mother of the girl who saved his life in the arena is still around.

But wait! It gets worse! After Peeta and Katniss show fighting spirit and a desire to come back home alive, he has to choose which tribute he will try to help. He puts his money on Katniss, which is understandable, but still heartbreaking.

Then, they somehow both make it out alive. Notwithstanding the roller coaster of emotions Haymitch must have been on when they pulled that last stunt with the berries - getting them both back, then maybe getting neither back- he has no time to grieve for the 23 children who died, but must immediately go to Katniss to try and save her from the same fate he encountered for his own stunt with the force field.

Then he hears about the Third Quarter Quell, which involves Katniss and either him Peeta or having to fight all his friends. And with Katniss begging him to take Peeta's place when they reap him, all the trauma must've come flooding back.

He is also set to lose the two people he cares about - Peeta and Katniss - to the regime, after snatching them from the jaws of death. When he finally has someone else to share the burden of being a mentor, the Capitol immediately takes that from him, forcing him to watch his comrades die one by one trying to protect Katniss and Peeta to keep them alive, all to give Haymitch a chance to pull them out.

We sort of forget about him a little in the third book, but Haymitch loses absolutely everything he has to the regime. Everything. His innocence, his family, his home, and Katniss and Peeta. He has to topple an entire regime and is a member of a far-reaching conspiracy while he can barely function from all the ( additional ) trauma.

I feel like Susanne Collins used him as a mirror to reflect just how gruesome the Games are, and how this spectacle ultimately damages people so badly they become a shell of themselves. Anyone else thinking about celeberty culture?

When looking at him differently, one cannot escape the notion that he resembles a war veteran, too, forced to kill people to come back and then being lauded, but not helped. Especially him saying "there are no victors, only survivors" and the mind numbing substance abuse in order to avoid dealing with the death of two innocent children every year and everything he went through in the arena.

But not only that; he still has the strenght to fight back, organize a coup, be a mentor. Presented with the first real chance he gets to pull someone through the hell of the Games and come back out, he jumps. Even though that means reliving the horrible games again.

Haymitch deserves a lot more praise, and I think Collins presented him really well as an idea of just how evil the Capitol really is. And how wickedly smart Haymitch Albernathy can be, if he chooses to.

I am honestly suprised that he's still alive and in generally okay condition, despite being a raging alcoholic. Him raising geese and looking after Katniss after they come back from District 13 gives me a little peace.

#haymitch abernathy #hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #hunger games movie

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donutz · 2 months

Text

Yandere Smiling Critters x male child reader[pt. 2]

Requests from Tumblr and Wattpad—!, but not really

(Minus the fact I didn't include you being turned)

—☆You are a human in this

Sadly, you couldn’t stay here forever.

You are home now. Adopted. You did spend your time at Playcare for a couple of years though, everybody knew you, everybody in Playcare that is. The critters and kids knew you, the staff knew you, Miss Delight knew you.

So you had a mark on the place when it was time for you to leave. To get your own house. You were happy to get a home, but sad you had to leave your friends behind.

Maybe you could revisit this place again. Come back. But you couldn’t.

Something happened.

8/8/1995

You don’t know what happened that day, but you guess it was something pretty bad. It caused the whole company to shut down. You no longer saw any commercials of the toys.

Rumors were spread around, maybe somebody died, maybe a toy hurt somebody, maybe.. Maybe an experiment happened.

Anyways. There was a letter. A letter in the mail, something that related to your old home. Find the flower?

Sure. Why not, you were seventeen, you can handle yourself.

Which is something you shouldn’t have ever thought, after what you’ve been through.

It’s been scary. You haven’t died yet, but death has wanted to shake your hand a few times.

You almost bumped your head on a metal pipe while passing through a dark hallway, nearly broke your leg because you wanted to jump off a platform, wanting things to go by faster.

You’ve been chased through vents, and ended up at a dead end. You didn’t know what to do. You almost got shredded. But, were spared.

“.. Huggy?” He stared at you, maybe he recognizes you, even after all these years.

He didn’t kill you. He let you down on the second level of the metal stairways with his arm, and went back to where he originally was.

Then you were solving puzzles, with a particular doll following after you.

But the doll got snatched up, by a spider. Mommy Long Legs. She did remember you, you were the one who wasn’t so good at the games..(for the sake of your life in this story)

But she thought you left her to die, so she still forced you to play the three games. The first game has Bunzo! He was hesitant to kill you, you were the kindest kid to him when you lived here.

And for the first time, you actually beat the game! He was so proud of you! He wasn’t proud of his unfortunate fate in the future, but at least he didn’t need to kill you.

Then the small Huggies. They also remembered you, so they were sparing you. You also beat that game! They were happy, letting out tiny purrs at your success.

Then Pj— Wait. Since when were you so good at these games? The last I checked, you failed every single one of them! Fine. I’ll just sabotage the game for you, to make sure you never leave.

You could see Pj coming out of his pug-a-pillar hole, and you were sweating a little. Hopefully he remembered you too.

He did, once he saw you he stopped in his crawling tracks, taking a pause. He missed your younger adorable face when he gave you a small bump on your back, signifying that the ‘game’ was over.

But he unpaused at the start of the music playing.

You escaped. Out of there. That’s fine. I could just chase you myself

Three chases. You got chased THREE times. How desperate was she to kill you?!

You were putting the blue hand on the scanner, when you heard Mommy’s quick steps towards you.

You looked behind you— Eyes widening from her abrupt appearance. For the fourth time.

The door opened! And.. Mommy got killed, by you, by your hands.

A hand crept out from the thin crevice of a metal door. It took Mommy’s left over body, to wherever. You didn’t know what it was. Where it took her. But thanked god(or not, depends on your thoughts) at the fact that you weren’t Mommy at this moment.

Now you are somewhere. The train crashed, and you could feel the back of your shirt being picked up. You were sliding down a pipe, into somewhere.

You don’t know where it was, but you needed to get out, fast.

Doing some parkour, you looked around, and saw a long tail(plus paws) crawling up inside a vent.

“... Catnap?”

You went through some doors, and ended up seeing where the crashed train was. Going somewhere, you could see the recognizable entrance you went to at age 5. The way to Playcare.

You could hear the sounds of steps. Hurrying up you went inside the much smaller train compared to the one you were originally in.

“My name is Elliot Ludwig.”

Hm. Those words you could remember.

“When you look around at the world today,” You repeated after him.

“what one thing do you think it needs more of?”

“Playcare!”

Even at seventeen years, you were still mesmerized by what was shown.

You looked down, and could see 3— no. Five creatures walking or crawling around, resembling the Smiling Critters.

“Oh.”

Some of the critters could hear Elliot’s voice continue about Playcare, eyeing the moving train.

They saw your shadowed figure. Not knowing who you were. But a light is shown on your face.

Bubba, Dogday, Kickin, Hoppy, and Bobby saw your face. You’re back?

No. They must be seeing things. You were gone. Away from them.

But Dogday could recognize those eyes. Your skin, your curiosity, your hair(if your hair changed colors, or texture after growing up, then.. Yea, he still remembered you).

“Angel?” (Even if you didn’t really save him, he’s going to call you Angel. Because I needed a nickname for you. Y’know, because I can’t list every single name of the people who’re reading this?)

The other critters heard his whisper. … Maybe it was you.

The train stopped. But you were kind of scared, were they like Huggy or Mommy? Were they going to chase you down?

“Ah shit.”

‘Language.’ Dogday thought, dogs have good hearing y’know!

You were trying to find a way for two possible outcomes of being down here.

A) Try to make the train go back if the critters try to kill you

B) Somehow reminisce in meeting your old friends

B sounded a lot more better than A.

And.. B did happen!

The 5 critters went over to the train, while you were standing there. Waiting for whatever will happen to you.

Dogday crawled over to you, it was you! Your scent!

He gave you the biggest hug while his tail wagged(really fast, it’s kind of crazy).

He was still fluffy even after these 10 years.

“Angel I missed you so much—!”

You were trying to hug him back, but a little too scared because of the critters staring into your soul.

Dogday noticed their silence and spoke up—

“Guys! This is Angel!! You don’t recognize him??”

Silence.

“THE ONE WHO WAS HIDING BEHIND PICKY..??”

“OHH”

“YOU’RE BACK?!?”

“I was thinking that it was him but I wasn’t sure…”

“ANGEL!?!?!?”

You were escorted out of the train, and were greeted by a bunch of animals pawing at you.

You couldn’t get a word in!

Picky, Crafty and Catnap came over, hearing all of the excited animal noises.

Now you were crowded by a bunch of animals. You were so tiny compared to them, so they had to be gentle.

So much noises were going on that even the smaller critters came over to see the commotion.

You were back home!

Now you can’t leave.

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seeingivy · 1 month

Text

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

dear head of the cullen clan, keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic. coldest regards, the head of the volturi (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.) (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.)

you snort.

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???), so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes. first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak. second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy??? third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient see u after work pookie :D, carlisle cullen (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.)

his response back is very prompt.

Never call me pookie again. (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.)

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here.

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now.

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one.

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him.

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind.

“hey. i’m sorry i-”

“jesus fuck-”

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you.

“i’ll use it, you pervert!”

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment.

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–”

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!”

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle.

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.”

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand.

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him.

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket.

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?”

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade.

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur.

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks.

“what?”

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…”

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him.

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out.

you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds.

“thanks! you too!”

he narrows his eyes.

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.”

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask.

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.”

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life.

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you.

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling.

“you did research for a date?”

“you can choke on your spit.”

you grin.

“you really know how to turn a girl on.”

“you’re filthy.”

you grin.

“and you’re actually so precious, i–”

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead.

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one.

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask.

he sneers.

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds.

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.”

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.”

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.”

sukuna scoffs.

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.”

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond.

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”

you snort.

“and you say you’re not a pervert…”

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him.

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers.

you grin, leaning in.

“is that right?” you whisper back.

“oh yeah. you irritate me.”

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them.

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek.

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead.

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation.

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over.

“are you crazy?” you whisper.

“what?” he asks.

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.”

sukuna leans back, obliging.

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?”

“oh, shut up.”

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap.

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too?

“sukuna. you didn’t–”

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds.

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile.

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star.

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it.

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.”

“you are so…”

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?”

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond.

sukuna grins.

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds.

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done.

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond.

“and how’s that?”

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.”

sukuna smiles.

“obviously.”

you jab at his side.

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.”

“okay, captain obvious. and?”

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder.

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.”

sukuna scoffs.

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.”

“hey! that’s not true.”

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.”

you curl your nose.

“worms?”

“yeah. what were you going to paint?”

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.”

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.”

“sukuna.” you whine.

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on his chest.

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek.

“you just get me, princess!”

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek.

“and i have to do special things for a special person.”

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same.

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond.

sukuna shrugs.

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.”

you groan.

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward.

“you know, you actually do though.”

“as if.” you groan.

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier.

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?”

“yeah.”

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.”

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face.

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke.

“you’re disgusting.”

“you love it.”

sukuna smiles.

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.”

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.”

you frown.

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.”

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.”

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face.

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.”

“i mean, i think i have an idea.”

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes.

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing.

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you.

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too.

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter.

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research.

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help.

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

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slut4thebroken · 10 months

Text

Accident

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Dark!Jason Todd × innocent Wayne!reader

Summary | You’ll only let Jason fuck you if he wears a condom… Spoiler alert: it accidentally came off…

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, stealthing, non consensual recording, emotional manipulation, unprotected sex, breeding, first time, corruption kink, slightly painful first time, no female orgasms, lowkey misogynistic!Jason lol, adopted siblings, but like... he doesn't think of her that way and neither does she.

Words | 2.8k

Notes | Yeah… I don’t even have an excuse for this one lmao. Except maybe that someone else gave me the idea💀 (also… THE PIERCING?????)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Other innocent!reader fics

Jason’s thoughts about you weren’t always like this. They started out innocent— just a crush on his adoptive father’s daughter. He never liked to think of you as his sister, more just as a girl he lived with.

But dying fucked him up in more ways than one. He realized life was too short to beat around the bush and honestly, the longer he was away from you, the worse his thoughts became. That’s why the exact second he made his identity known, he found you. He was tired of watching you from a distance or through the cameras he placed throughout your apartment. He wanted you and he was finally going to have you.

When he knocked on your door, the second you opened it, he could see all the different emotions you felt. Shock, confusion, relief, happiness. He gave you a sheepish smile and you threw yourself at his body, wrapping your arms tight around him. As he chuckled and returned the hug, his cock fattened up in his pants just from your scent.

“Hi, princess.” He said quietly, savoring the feeling of your body pressed to his.

“Jay, I- I don’t understand.” You pulled back, staring up at him through your lashes with wide eyes- your face almost made him come right then and there.

“It’s a long story.” He said through a quiet laugh. “Can I come in? I’ll make you some hot coco like I used to and I’ll tell you about it.” You immediately agreed, pulling him inside and leading him to the kitchen.

Only a few minutes later, you sat down, a giddy smile on your face as you smelled the drink. He doesn’t get why you like it so much, it tastes like any other hot chocolate. As you took a sip and let out a long, vulgar moan, he had to stop himself from ripping the mug away and replacing it with his cock. He wanted to take this slow, build up your trust again. It looked like that wouldn’t take long though.

Only two weeks later, your relationship was practically back to the way it was before he died. Which he was thankful for because he’s not sure how much longer he can wait.

He invited you over for a movie night, promising lots of pizza, hot chocolate, and cuddles. When you arrived in jeans and a tight shirt, he immediately brought you to his room and gave you some of his clothes, saying, “You won’t be comfy wearing that.” You agreed and he had to force himself to leave and close the door. When you walked back out, his eyes widened at your bare legs.

“The pants didn’t fit.” You looked at him with a blush, pulling his shirt down to cover more of your thighs. It dwarfed you. The collar was also loose enough that it almost fell off your shoulder. He assured you it was okay and patted the seat next to him, telling you to sit down.

The second you were sitting, he pulled you into his body, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and using the other one to lift your legs up and bend your knees, then lean them on his thighs. His hand remained on the bare skin of your thigh and he rubbed soothing circles with his thumb, trying to hide a smirk at the way you blushed and squirmed in his hold. The shirt rode up your thighs and you grabbed a blanket to put over you, but he stopped you, saying he was too hot for a blanket.

As you ate and watched the movie, he was slowly losing patience. Honestly, he’s been hard since you walked out of his room, but he’s doing his best to wait. He wanted you to overthink, to get all nervous and stammer out your words. He wanted to wind you up because the tighter you are, the easier it’ll be to get what he wants.

So he let you watch the movie, slowly moving his hand up and down your thigh, each time moving it closer to the bottom of his shirt. He could practically hear your heart beating because of how hard and fast it was pounding in your chest.

“I missed you.” He murmured against your ear, making you shiver and turn to face him.

“I missed you too, Jay. So much.” You frowned. “Thought about you everyday.” That made him perk up.

“Yeah?” You hummed in agreement and he gave you a small smile. “What’d you think about?” He purred, smile turning into a smirk. Your blush returned and you playfully hit his chest to reprimand him.

“Do you always have to make everything dirty?” Despite your scolding tone, you were smiling.

“Only with you, princess.” He shot back and you stammered for a response before finally just huffing and averting your gaze. “I always loved how easy it was to leave you speechless.” His voice dripped like honey, all the way down to between your legs and you squirmed, pressing your thighs together subconsciously.

“I- I’m not… ‘m not speechless.” You muttered, embarrassed.

“No?” You shook your head, making him chuckle. He was quiet for a moment, so you looked back at him, finding him already staring at you.

“What?” You asked quietly, when he just kept staring at you.

“Nothin, just… thinking about all the time I missed with you.”

“Well from now on, we have a lifetime because I’m never letting you go- not again.” You said, giving him a quick hug, trying to comfort him. He gave you a small smile and let his eyes drift to your lips. You swallowed thickly as his eyes darkened and let out a quiet gasp when he slowly started moving closer.

“Can I kiss you?” He rasped. You nodded breathlessly and closed your eyes, waiting. The kiss was slow, almost tentative, and you tried to just do what he did or let him take the lead. When he pulled back, you whimpered quietly and moved forward, trying to chase his lips.

“Was that your first kiss?” He asked softly, making you flush and look away from him.

“I- I’m sorry if it was bad,”

“Hey, no. It was perfect, baby. I like that you’ve only ever kissed me.” He gave you a comforting smile and your anxiety slowly evaporated.

“You do?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Makes me feel so special.” Makes me so fuckin excited to feel your untouched, virgin cunt. Is what he wanted to say.

“Will you kiss me again?” You bit your lip, waiting for a response that never came. This time when he kissed you, he brought his hand from around your shoulder up to cup your cheek. You tightened your grip on his shirt as you leaned up more, trying to get a better angle. Eventually though, he just lifted your body and placed you on his lap, hands snaking up your thighs, then back down, teasing you. When you gasped and accidentally pushed your hips forward, he let out a choked sound, making you pull back.

“I’m sorry, I- I didn’t,” He cut you off with another kiss and grabbed your hips under the shirt, guiding you to grind on his cock. Eventually your hips started moving on their own as you got needier. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, making you release a startled moan at the new sensation.

“I need you so bad, princess.” He muttered against your lips, moving to trail kisses down your neck before sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth. He wanted you completely marked, so that there was no question as to who you belong to. He wanted to fucking carve his name into your skin so that everyone would know you’re his. “It hurts, baby, I need you.” He whined, biting the mark, then kissing his way to a new spot.

“It hurts?” You squeaked, making him pull away to look at you as you kept up the motions of your hips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. It hurts so fucking bad.” He frowned, bringing a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, then cup your cheek.

“Oh… Can I help?”

“There is one thing you can do that’ll help.” He started, only continuing after you nodded. “You could let me fuck you.”

“What?” You choked out, staring at him with wide eyes.

“That’s the only thing that'll help. You don’t wanna leave me hurting, do you?” Your brows furrowed at the pained look on his face.

“N-no, but I- I’m not on birth control.”

“So?” He grumbled, leaning into your neck again.

“I wanna help but you gotta use protection.” He bit down hard on the crook of your neck, making you cry out, then muttered a “fine” before standing and effortlessly lifting you. He carried you to his room and gently laid you down, crawling over you and kissing you again. Blindly reaching for his nightstand drawer, he felt around until he finally found a condom, then grabbed his phone from the top of the nightstand and tossed both items on the bed. He pulled back then practically ripped his shirt off you, letting out a low groan at the sight of your tits and lacy underwear.

“Look at you.” He cooed, trailing his hands up and down your sides before grabbing your breasts. “It’s almost like you were expecting this to happen.” He chuckled and your face heated up from his teasing. Leaning down, he sucked your nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, making you gasp. He released it with a wet pop, then gave the other one the same treatment before leaning up to quickly take his shirt off, then easily rip your underwear off your body.

“Jay! Those were expensive.” You pouted as he discarded the torn fabric on the bed. He ignored you and swiped his fingers through your folds, groaning when your arousal coated his fingers.

“You ever put anything up here?” He asked, circling and teasing your hole. You whined and shook your head. “Good.” He growled, ripping his hand away. As he took off his pants and underwear, he tried to think about how much knowledge you’d have about sex. Do you know about foreplay? He was all but praying the answer was no.

Reluctantly picking up the condom, he opened it and slid it on, trying not to grimace at the feeling. He can’t even remember the last time he’s used one and honestly it’s a miracle this condom hasn't expired.

“It’s gonna hurt a little at first, okay? But you just gotta trust me, baby, it’s gonna get better.” You nodded, anxiety knotting in your stomach. “Don’t tell me to stop either, I know how much you can take and I’ll know when you need to stop. Okay?” You let out a meek “okay” and he dragged his length through your folds, making you stiffen.

“Ready, princess?” You stared up at him with wide eyes and swallowed thickly as you nodded. He didn't hesitate before pushing the blunt head of his cock against your hole. It took a bit of pressure before he was finally able to get his cock in, but once he did- he almost fucking came right then and there.

You cried out, instinctively trying to push his hips away, so he grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed. In his new position leaning over you, he could see now that your eyes were watering. He kept pushing in, even after he met the resistance of your cervix, until his hips were flush with yours.

“Jay, it hurts- I don’t think I can,” You cut yourself off with a whimper, your face twisted in pain, making his cock throb.

“No, baby, don’t talk like that. You’re doing so good. It’s supposed to hurt, remember? You just gotta relax and it’ll feel better.” He slowly dragged his cock out, leaving just the tip inside, then slammed back in, making you cry out again as tears started falling down your temples into your hair. He kept up that rhythm, making sure to really thrust in hard so you’d keep crying.

When you started babbling out pleas for him to stop, he growled and pulled out, then flipped you over onto your stomach. You whined loudly in displeasure when he entered you and gripped the sheets so hard that your knuckles turned white.

As you started begging him to stop again, he grabbed the back of your head and pushed your face into the pillow, muffling your sounds. Obviously it wasn’t ideal that your moans were muffled too, but he was fucking sick of your bitching and whining already. He fucked you like that for a while, relishing in the pleasure of your tight cunt and your pained whimpers.

After your begging and crying started to slow, he leaned back up and grabbed your torn underwear, putting them in your mouth the second you raised your head to speak. He lifted you up onto your knees, then picked up his phone and opened the camera to record. His free hand held your hip as he fucked you, keeping you from moving away. After a while, once your whimpers turned into small moans, he pulled out, grabbing his cock and teasingly dragging it through your folds. He slipped the condom off, letting out a quiet chuckle when you whined and squirmed beneath him, then pushed back in.

“See? It feels better now, doesn’t it?” You whined in response, letting out a muffled sob. He slowly dragged his length back out until only the tip was inside, making sure the video caught the way it was slick with your arousal. Letting out a low moan, he stilled and let go of your hip, then waited.

“Fuck yourself on my cock. C’mon, princess, show me how much you want it.” You let out an embarrassed sound and buried your face in the pillow, but moved your hips back into his anyway. You fucked yourself on his length only a few times before letting out an impatient whine. He roughly squeezed your ass in response, then slapped it hard, making you release a choked moan.

“Fuck.” He said through a moan, drawing the word out. He slapped you once more, just to watch the way your ass moved, and when he took his cock out again, this time he sat back on his heels and brought the camera down to show your gaping hole. To further your humiliation, he grabbed your ass cheek and spread you open, getting a good shot of both your holes fluttering around nothing as he spat on your cunt, making you let out an embarrassed whine.

He pushed back in, grabbing your ass with his free hand and guiding your hips to meet each thrust. Part of him wanted to grab you with both hands so he could hold you completely still as he fucked you. But a larger part wanted to keep recording, knowing this would be spank material for probably the rest of his life. The thought had him nearing his orgasm much sooner than he would’ve liked, but he didn’t bother dragging it out any longer.

Picking up the pace, he fucked you so hard that his balls almost started to ache from how hard they were smacking against your clit. He tried to keep his sounds to a minimum so that his phone could pick up your muffled cries and moans.

Wanting you to tighten around him, he smacked your ass again, groaning when you jolted and clenched down on his throbbing cock. He hit you a few more times as he chased his orgasm until your skin was pink and you were sobbing out moans.

Pushing his length all the way in, he let out a low moan as you milked his cock, whimpering into the pillow. When you started squirming, he gripped your hip hard enough to make you let out a pained whine, then pushed deeper, limiting your movement a little. He panted as he came down from his orgasm, then slowly dragged his cock out and sat back on his heels. Moving his hand from your hip to your ass, he spread you open, holding the camera in front of your abused cunt, waiting for his come to trickle out.

“Jay?” You said quietly, once you felt it. “You used a condom right?” He bit back a smirk, watching it drip down your clit onto his sheets.

“Oh shit… It must’ve come off and I didn’t notice.” He did his best to sound sincere, but it was more emotionless than anything else. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Oh, it- it’s okay. It was an accident.” You responded meekly.

“Yeah. Just an accident.”

Taglist

@god-imdelulu @xoxoyourdoll @hizzielover @igotanidea @iabookworm @mrknightt @baebeepeach

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader smut #smut #dark!jason todd #innocent!reader

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whoopsyeahokay · 12 days

Text

October Sun

summary: things had gone from weird to worse in a matter of seconds. it'd seemed all your secrets had decided to reveal themselves to Wally without so much as considering how you'd feel about it. you'd guessed that was the price you'd had to pay for your choice to share yourself with a member of Split River High's Afterlife Support Group.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.

sorry for the delay, beauties! i was so behind on so many things and am still nursing a rather gruesome cold 🪦 made this one longer to make up for it 🫶

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.10

You were six, sitting on your sister Aurora's lap in a hospital room. Monitors beeped—long intervals, pitched notes—and, below that, your great-aunt's rattled breathing. Everything stank of disinfectant.

Ginny lay in the bed; pruned and pale, translucent skin hanging from her bones. She was just past seventy, but had aged several decades in the two weeks since the symptoms had started. Now, she looked like the skeletons your neighbors strung up for Halloween. Ghastly. Small.

Dead.

Mommy dozed in the armchair across from you, her head at an awkward angle, mouth ajar, one hand rested on her swollen belly. For days, she'd subsisted on nothing but good ol' fashioned Celtic stubbornness, running herself into the ground to undo whatever had put Ginny in the hospital. Nothing worked. Potions, pastes, blood spells, smudging rituals; it didn't matter what Mommy and Nanna did, Ginny's doctor insisted her condition was deteriorating.

It was so strange, you thought, that Ginny didn't just tell them herself. After all, she was able to stand in front of you without assistance and seemed much healthier than she had even moments ago.

She'd been asleep, silvery and thin and wheezy, and then her eyes had popped open and she'd gotten to her feet with the grace of a ballerina. Auburn hair in fluffy curls, pinned neatly away from her face; lips bright, Victory red, and skin peachy.

She was as pretty as a picture in a church bell skirt and smart, collared blouse, the colors much more suited to her than the starch white of the hospital gown. The pendant of her necklace was now one of a pair dangling from her earlobes, silver circles glinting in the sterile light.

"Are you better?" You asked her, marveling at her loveliness.

Ginny crouched to meet you at your level and placed her hand on yours, green eyes bright as emeralds in the sun. She smiled, "Don't tell mummy. This will be our little secret." She addressed Aurora next, "I'll be back as soon as I can, pet."

Aurora nodded, solemn, and you both watched Ginny greet a young man in similarly outdated dress as he entered the room. You didn't know who he was, but Aurora must've because she offered him a watery smile, eyes glistening.

"Where's Ginny going?" You asked her.

She shushed you, murmuring, "You can't tell mom, okay?"

Annoyed, "I won't." You weren't 3, you knew how to keep a secret. You'd kept plenty for your new friend Hana. Like her crush on the crayon stealer, Simon Elroy, or how she always took two milks at recess instead of one.

"She's saying hello to Grandpa Jack." Aurora told you, but you sensed there was a lot more to it than that. You gave her your best glare. She rolled her eyes, "They're probably going to try and find out what's wrong with her."

But, "She's better, dummy," you said, craning your neck to watch her swan out of the room with a man who'd died before you were born.

Aurora sighed the way she did whenever she thought you said something stupid and pressed her hand to your cheek, forcing you to look at the bed.

You gasped, astonished that, there, under the layers of quilts your Nanna had brought, was Ginny; breath rattling, monitors beeping, white as a china doll and asleep.

That was how you learned that Traveling meant something different to your family.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

One second you were clung to Wally like a limpet, the next you'd vanished into thin air. Snapped out of existence like you'd never been there at all. Frantic, Wally looked left, right, to the back of the stage, and then spun around to face the rows of seats.

His jaw dropped, blood draining from his face. You stood at the top of the center aisle, shirt no longer rucked up the way Wally had made it; hair as tidy as it had been before he'd run his fingers through it; skin no longer sporting the perfect blush he'd coaxed to the surface.

Even from where he stood, Wally could see that your eyes burned a nebula of colors, the way they had when Wally caught up to you outside the school earlier. As soon as he'd registered it—proof that something magical had just transpired—they dimmed to their normal hue, just as the man behind you, Mr. Anderson, Wally identified, demanded, "What are you doing in here?"

He seemed angry, more so than the time Wally had watched him chew out a group of boys in the locker room showers for smoking weed. Mr. Anderson grabbed you by the arm and hauled you out of the theater like you'd been trespassing.

Wally charged up the aisle, thoughts of how you could fucking teleport taking a back seat to the desire to shove Mr. Anderson to the ground for assuming he had the right to touch you like that. The connection between you and Wally bittered, shrieked, fear and fury swirling together to pump through Wally's veins.

Oh hell no.

"I'm sorry," You apologized. Mr. Anderson released you, causing you to stumble from the momentum he'd used to force you into the hallway. "I won't let it happen again."

In an ill-fated attempt to wedge himself between you and Mr. Anderson, Wally checked the man's shoulder with his own, but little happened. Mr. Anderson had repositioned himself, almost like he'd anticipated the action, and the intention waned into a light graze. One that had no impact on the man, but that caused Wally to trip into the wall.

Mr. Anderson escorted you through the school toward your locker, gravely explaining that you'd overstayed your welcome by an hour and a half; the Wednesday team practices and club activities already packed up and gone.

Glancing outside, Wally was shocked to see the sky was dark. Apparently, making out with you was the equivalent of pressing a giant PAUSE button on the fourth dimension. He was sure no more than twenty minutes had passed since you'd jumped into his arms and kissed him within an inch of his sanity.

Teleportation and time manipulation? Wally gaped, images of his favorite comic book heroes swarming his mind. Holy shit, you were an X-Man. He had big fat feelings for a Mutant prodigy. Was he the Cyclops to your Marvel Girl?

Needing to do something to ensure Mr. Anderson wouldn't try to grab you again, Wally inserted himself between you and him. A move that appeared to influence Mr. Anderson to maintain the space Wally enforced with his presence.

Good, Wally thought, cracking his knuckles, because while he had no problem trying to beat his way into the living world to knock a few of Mr. Anderson's teeth out, he knew that would take a lot more than noble intention to pull off.

He loathed feeling helpless. Back in the day, he'd stood up for the kids who got bullied, had done his best to fend off the misguided idiots who'd used their post-puberty size for evil. Trouble was that now he couldn't do more than make a light flicker by concentrating really, really hard.

Don't be fooled: Dawn made it look easy, but it wasn't.

Finally reaching your locker, Mr. Anderson reiterated, "What were you doing in there?" His demeanor all wrong. Wally knew enough about the guy to know that, usually, he was a cool kind of dorky. Relatable. However, something had obviously possessed him because he was acting like you'd discovered his hidden collection of porn mags.

Wally didn't like it. He wanted Mr. Anderson to fuck off and leave you alone more than he'd wanted anything for a long time. Retaining his position between you and Mr. Anderson, chin up, hands balled into fists at his sides, Wally willed Mr. Anderson away.

You began, "I was just—" when Wally gritted out, stare fixed on the man's haggard face, "You don't owe this dickhead an explanation, baby."

But you spoke over him, "Mathilda asked me to look for something she'd forgotten in there yesterday. She's in the Mean Girl's Musical?" You supplied, and, jeez, you were quick on your feet.

Mr. Anderson was unimpressed, "For two hours?"

"No! No. I was studying in the library when she texted me."

Wally began to wonder how many yarns you'd had to spin for it to come so easily. Part of him was uncomfortable with the notion that it seemed like second nature to you, while another, bigger, part of him seared the way lemon juice stings a papercut.

He recognized it was self-preservation. A lifetime of harboring a massive secret that, okay, might not get you carted off in a straitjacket these days, but definitely wouldn't make it easy for you to go through life normally. He'd seen people ostracized for less.

"Do you have to get anything from the library, then?" Mr. Anderson wanted to know, the V between his brows deepening when his phone buzzed in his blazer pocket. The third time in the short minutes since he'd found you.

"No." You said, cowed, even though you shouldn't be. He'd been the one whose conduct had been inappropriate. He should be begging for your forgiveness, not making you feel terrible like it was his job. "I swear, I won't let it happen again."

Wally's blood boiled.

"See that it doesn't." Mr. Anderson warned. His phone buzzed again. "Get your things and go home."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Anderson unpocketed and checked his phone as another call lit up the screen. Private, the caller ID claimed.

"You'll have to use the main entrance." He said, already backing away, "Everything else is locked up." Then he leveled you with a dark look of authority, "I assume you can make your own way out?"

Wally could feel the tension in your muscles, could hear your heart stutter behind your ribs. His fingers twitched, itching to bust the man's head right off his shoulders. And, damn, when had he last felt such violent inclinations? Even against those prima donna bullies, the rage hadn't distended into anything remotely close to this.

"Yeah, I..." You cleared your throat, "Yes."

Mr. Anderson retreated and took the next call that came through, his bark of, "Give me a minute," resonating through the empty hallway as he disappeared around the corner.

As soon as he was out of sight, Wally spun on his heel to face you. You shrunk against your locker, arms folded around your middle and eyes faraway, chewing the inside of your bottom lip as you lost yourself in thought.

Wally moved into your bubble, the connection between you calmed, and smoothed his hands down your waist; one into the back pocket of your jeans, the other gliding back up and into your hair.

He pulled you gently against him, tucked your head under his chin and asked, "You good, pretty girl?"

He felt you nod into his chest, "Yeah. That was just every shade of weird imaginable. Something was off about him." You leaned away just enough to gaze up at Wally. "He's usually so...friendly."

Wally pressed a kiss to the top of your head, "I don't want you to stick around, babe. I don't trust that dude not to do something stupid if he finds you again."

"For real?" You sounded stunned, "Him?"

"Honestly? Yeah. He was giving off serious Bundy vibes. You didn't do anything wrong and he acted like you'd cold-cocked his mamma." Wally glared in the direction Mr. Anderson had gone, concluding, "Maybe he's the reason Maddie's blood was splattered all over the boiler room."

"Jesus, Wally, it wasn't a Fear Street massacre." You shunned the idea, disentangling yourself from him to open your locker. After a moment of reflection, "Do you really think he's capable?"

As you grabbed your backpack and started to shove what you needed into it, Wally leaned on the locker beside yours, shrugging, "Like I said, Bundy vibes. And I can't stop him if he decides to come back with a machete, so please," he implored, putting every ounce of urgency behind his words, "Get your stuff and let's go."

Thankfully, you took his advice without further argument. Pulled on your leather jacket, slung your backpack over one shoulder, and held your hand out for Wally to take as if it was something you did all the time.

A champagne-fizz burst in Wally's chest as he accepted the invitation, lacing your fingers together and setting a leisurely but purposeful pace toward the atrium.

"So," He began, unable to ignore the elephant in the room any longer, "When were you going to tell me you could teleport?"

It startled a laugh out of you, the kind that starts with a snort, and Wally felt a wave of fondness wash over him.

"I can't." You said. Rather, "I can, uhm, project...astrally."

Whoa. A barrage of questions threatened to spill out of him, ranging from reasonable to unstable. But, who could blame him? You'd basically just admitted that The Mind from Outer Space could, feasibly, be a real thing! Wally was as titillated as he was curious.

"Astral projection is real?" He asked in as even a tone as he could manage.

"Being a ghost is real." You countered bluntly.

And, "Touché." He conceded, "But you can't blame a guy for being surprised when something out of the Twilight Zone can happen in real life."

You seesawed your head, lips adopting a playful smile. God, you were beautiful. "Fair." You said, winking at Wally who was then forced to swallow the need to pick you up and pin you to the nearest wall with his mouth.

The air was crisp when you both exited the school. He walked you to the picnic tables near the bus stop, resting on the end of a tabletop and pulling you between his legs. Like this, you were pressed flush against him, body fitted so perfectly into his.

The connection rumbled and flared, erupting volcano-hot, determining Wally's actions. He slid his hands from your waist down to squeeze the pert swell of your ass, and dragged your hips against his.

You gasped, delicate, and let your head fall to the side to expose the column of your neck. Wally took advantage. Brushed his dry lips from collar to the hinge of your jaw, little darts of tongue and drags of teeth.

"Fuck, baby, you don't know what you do to me," He groaned, his dick fattening in his sweatpants. And he sure as shit meant it. The connection between you was driving him crazy, keeping teenage boy hormones in check an impossible battle.

He rolled his hips, chasing the friction, using the leverage he had with his hands in your back pockets to lift you into his lap. He rearranged himself on the table, slid back to sit more comfortably, and encouraged you to rut against him.

Wally kissed you like it was the last time, like this was the only chance he'd ever have to do it. Slow, deep, slick. The sounds you made, fuck, wanton and needy; moans and gasps and punched-out sighs.

And then, because, of fucking course 'and then'—your phone buzzed right in Wally's palm. Long, sequential blitzes of vibration. A phone call.

You groaned in annoyance, taking your phone when Wally graciously handed it to you, and answered.

"Hey," You greeted, head on Wally's shoulder and body still.

His mamma had raised a gentleman, he reminded himself and curled his long arms around you in a loose embrace, repeating football stats in his mind to temper his erection.

"Yeah," You were saying, "Yeah, I know, but I got caught up in the...Well, mom's a big girl, Aurora, I'm sure she can find someone else to shake the floorboards this one time."

Wally tried to give you an inquiring look but the angle was too awkward, so instead he filed that tidbit away for later, above astral projection but below In Betweens. And, shit, that's right, you were both supposed to discuss your fritzy ghost powers, not dry hump on school property. Oops.

You growled, climbing off of Wally altogether and hopping to the ground, pacing as you expressed with sarcasm and sass, "Why don't you get your new husband to do it, or are we still keeping him in the dark about the family business?"

Wally barely made out the, "Could you stop being such a selfish little brat for o—" before you hung up on who Wally surmised was your sister. With your back to him, he couldn't tell how you felt about the exchange, but from the tension in your shoulders and how forcibly measured your breathing had become, he thought it was safe to assume not great.

"You guys don't get along?" He ventured.

On a last, heavy breath, you twirled back around, "Actually, we get along really well." You sucked your teeth, "It's our mom's choice of occupation that puts us at each other's throats." Wally knew what was coming, couldn't soften the disappointment. "I gotta go." You said regretfully.

He plastered on a smirk, aiming for levity but sounding too dismayed to stick the landing, "You'd think the universe didn't want us to help Maddie."

In what Wally could only describe as a fit of absolutely fucking not, you strode right up to him, slung your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hot, middle-finger-to-the-sky kiss.

"Fuck the universe," You said when you parted, breathless, perfect, his, "I'll come in early tomorrow. Like, seven-thirty-early. Can you meet me in the parking lot?"

Repeating his words from earlier, "Anything for you, pretty girl," Wally promised, grinning at the prospect of cuddling up somewhere intimate with you in the morning.

Although his thoughts weren't wholly innocent, he recognized within himself the genuine desire to do anything to be near you, for however long you'd give him. Whether that was two minutes or two hours, Wally would be grateful.

"Great," You smiled, bright against the dark autumn evening, "I'll see you then."

A final, sweet stamp of your lips to Wally's cheek and you went on your way, Wally having to watch as you stepped over the boundary of the school grounds and into a world where he couldn't follow.

"Can't wait," He uttered and the connection between you both quieted completely.

💀___________________________

PART NINE - PART ELEVEN

note: i am so sorry to those of you who the taglist isn't working for! i stg, i am trying everything i can think of to fix the links, but nothing has worked so far 💔 thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking with this story despite all the technical difficulties!

if you'd like to be kept up-to-date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS as the taglist isn't currently working ☠️

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 month

Note

Hi there. I'm sorry if I'm doing this the wrong way. I've never requested anything before. (i want to put a trigger warning for self harm)

I was wondering if you could do a Kate Bishop and female reader angst/comfort where they've been dating for a bit. Kate comes home early from duty with cliny to surprise her and finds her self harming. If you can't or its too dark I understand. I struggle with self injury and a story with Kate comforting her girlfriend who struggles with mental health sounds nice.

Scars to Your Beautiful

Summary: You thought you had time to get it under control, a dark secret that not even your girlfriend knew about. But now she knows.

Please read the warnings as some topics in the this story can be triggering for some. As always you are enough and I am here if you need someone to talk to!

Warning: mention of past and current self harm, act of self harm, verbal abuse from parents, anxiety, Kate being a good girlfriend, reader has bad mental health

Word Count: 3.2k

“Sweetheart,” you looked up at your girlfriend’s voice. Her eyes flicked to yours and the small razor blade in your hand. What was she doing at home? She was earlier.

5 Days Ago

You dropped your bag to the ground with a groan. It seemed heavier daily, but you were one step closer to graduating. Then you would be free—free from strict professors, free from anxiously waiting for a paper or test to be graded to pop up on the portal, free from the endless pressure your parents placed on your shoulders to carry on your family’s legacy.

You slumped down on the couch, and your girlfriend’s dog rested his head on your lap. The action made you smile. “Hi, Lucky baby,” you whispered, scratching his head. His tongue hung out of the side of his mouth. “When do you think your mom is going to be home?” The one-eyed Golden Retriever jumped on the couch and laid on you, forcing you to lay back. “Lucky,” you laughed. “I have to do homework.” Instead of getting up, he placed his head on your chest and closed his. “Unbelievable,” you mumbled, but his breathing soon brought you to an unwanted nap.

Soft fingers running through your hair slowly woke you up. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and saw Kate with a smile on her face. “Hi, sleepy,” she teased. “How was your nap?”

“Good but unwanted,” you sat up and put your arms around her neck. “Your dog held me hostage and forced me to take a nap,” you felt her body shake from laughter, and her arms locked you into place. “Katie,” you whined. “I have to get up and do homework and cook dinner.”

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’. “Homework can wait, and I ordered food. So now you can cuddle with your girlfriend.” You huffed, but Kate pouted her lips and gave you the best puppy dog eyes.

“Cuddling does something nice,” you gave in and rested your head on the crook of her neck. Kate reached for the remote and played the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy. You loved these moments. With her training, your classwork, and other extracurricular, it was hard to have these moments of peace. Still, anxiety began to creep into your bones as the seconds ticked to minutes, and the list of assignments was not getting any smaller. Kate touched your neck and dug her fingers into the knots. You melted against her. It was unfair how easily she could turn you into a puddle. You stayed there until the food was delivered and had to part away from the warmth of your girlfriend to eat your Chinese food. She allowed you to change the show to SVU while you ate.

“I leave for a mission tomorrow morning,” you said, dropping the chopsticks you were using. They said it should be about a week.” A week without her would be the longest you both would be apart.

“Whose going with you?” You asked.

“It’s a small team—me, Kamala, America, and Peter.” The urge to ask more died on your lips. Kate never told you what the missions were in the name of keeping you safe. It was hard to wonder, especially when nightmares woke her, and you had to clean her wounds. Instead of rattling off a hundred and one questions, you placed your food on the small table and wrapped your arms around her.

“Promise me you’ll come back to me in one piece.” It was a hard promise to keep, but you needed to hear her say.

“Of course, sweetheart,” she kissed your temple. “You are my home, my one and only. I’ll always come back to you.”

The universe must have liked fucking with you. As soon as Kate left for her mission, one bad thing happened after another. You received a horrible grade on a group project you were stressing over because your other members-only did the bare minimum for their part. Pleading your case to your professor fell on deaf ears because you passed. A passing grade wasn’t good enough. You needed to be perfect.

Then, your internship kept piling more and more work on you because they claimed you were the most responsible and could handle the workload. The cherry on top of the shitty sundae was a phone call from your mother.

“It seems that Dr. Narvaez hasn’t received your application,” you rolled your eyes at your mother’s tone. “Is there a reason for that?” Lucky greeted you at the door, making walking into Kate’s apartment difficult. But you greeted the one-eyed dog with a forced smile and a pat on the head. You toed off your sneakers and dropped down at the small table.

“Because I didn’t send it in,” your confession was met with silence. Sometimes, you preferred your parents constantly yelling or belittling you over the silence.

“And why is that?” You played with an arrowhead that Kate left.

“I don’t know if I want to work for Dr. Narvaez,” you said honestly. He was a friend of your father’s and owned a private practice catering to high-end clients. It would be good money but different from the work you wanted to do. You wanted to help people, not rich saps who wanted Botox.

“Are you serious? Your father gave up a lot to secure you that spot.” You bit your lip, stopping the sigh. It was what they wanted, not you.

“I want a break,” you told her and crossed your arms on top of the table. “Kate and I are thinking about taking a vacation.” The Bishops had a cabin up north, and she wanted to take you right there after graduation. She scuffed at the mention of your girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That girl doesn’t know what’s best for you. Not like your father and I,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. It was the same argument every time. “If you do not work with Dr. Narvaez, you will not have a successful future. You will amount to nothing. You will not only be a failure to yourself but your father, brother, and me.” This type of rant was what you were used to with her. Not praise or support or a gentle reminder that she loved you. All she would do was remind you of how much of a failure you were. If she said it so many times, it had to be true. Right?

Your mother’s degrading words echoed in your head. Worthless. Stupid. You were a disgrace. An embarrassment to the family, and you were going to amount to nothing. You were a mistake. A nobody compared to your brother. They consumed you. Everything seemed to spiral out of control. You needed some aspect of it back. It was a behavior you weren’t proud of that started in middle school. For the six months you were with Kate, you had no need to resort to destructive habits. Kate grounded you. She kept all the negative thoughts away. You found the razor blade in your jewelry box. A hidden compartment at the bottom was perfect because Kate had gone through it all the time.

So you sat on your shared bed with your pant legs rolled up. Your fingertips danced over the faint scars that decorated your skin. Sometimes, Kate traced the lines but never asked where they came from. It was second nature as you moved the sharp razor across your skin. The red of your blood bubbled to the surface. The pressure you’ve felt for the past day and a half disappeared. Finally, you felt like you had control.

The behavior continued over the next two days. Every time you brought the blade out, you promised yourself it would be the last time. It never was, but you had time to get your habit back under control. You had three days, then Kate would be home, and you wouldn’t need it anymore. You had to get everything under control, so you thought.

Present day

“What-what are you doing back?” You asked. You tried to keep your voice steady, but panic raced through your body.

“We got done early,” her voice was surprisingly calm. “I wanted to surprise you.” Her hair was damp, and she was dressed in a purple tracksuit. She must have taken a shower at the tower and rushed over here. Slowly, she closed the distance between you and here. There was enough space so you wouldn’t feel trapped. “Sweetheart, can you hand me that?” She pointed to the razor in your hand. On instinct, you gripped the blade, and you felt it cut your hand. “Please, baby, give it to me.” Her voice was firm, but you heard the plead.

“Katie,” you whimpered and dropped the blade into her outstretched hand. The world seemed to collapse around you. Your legs began to shake, and Kate caught you before you hit the ground. No tears fell from your eyes. A blanket of numbness covered your body.

“I’m going to lift you so we can get you all clean, okay?” You nodded, unable to open your mouth. Your stomach dropped as Kate quickly picked you up and walked to the bathroom. Goosebumps formed on your skin when she set you down and turned to get the first aid kit. Her body shook as she exhaled, looking at the new cuts on your thighs. “This may hurt, but I’ll be gentle, okay?” Again, you gave her another nod. You expected the sting of the antiseptic, but you felt nothing. How long have you been numb to it?

“None are very deep so that you won’t need stitches,” Kate explained. You knew that. Even in your mind-numbing haze, you knew to be careful. There was one night during high school when you cut too deep and stole your father’s suture kit. You learned that night your hands were steady enough to become a surgeon. “I’m going to clean your hand now,” without a response, she didn’t reach to take it. “Baby,” you forced yourself to look into her blue eyes. “Can I see your hand?” You nodded and gave it to her. There was a small cut, nothing compared to the ones on your legs. She cleaned it, placed a badge, and kissed your hand. “I’m going to ask you something, and I won’t be made no matter the answer as long as you are honest with me. Are there others?”

You wanted to lie. All you had to do was say no, and when she went to bed, you could clean the cuts that scattered your arms, but the lie tasted like poison. It made your stomach twist and throat constrict. Before Kate, lying about this was easy. It flowed off your tongue so quickly that even you believed it. With a quick nod, you tugged off your long-sleeved shirt. It was one of Kate’s old college shirts. Your girlfriend scanned your upper half. Again, her body shook as she exhaled. “Okay, thank you for being honest with me, baby. I’m going to clean these too.” You nodded as she kissed your forehead.

Quickly, you put your hand on the back of her neck and kept her close. You knew they needed adequately cleaned, but you needed her close. Everything felt so cold. “Tell me what you need,” she said.

“Need you,” you mumbled. “Katie,” you whined. “Please.” Your throat burned as you tried to keep your tears at bay. Kate hushed you and brought you into a tight hug.

“I’m right here, sweet girl. I’m not going anywhere.”

Once Kate deemed every cut was cleaned, she helped you change into a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. She carried you to the living room, sat on the couch, and covered you with a blanket. You whined when she pulled away. “I’m going to order food and get you some water. I’ll be right back.” You wanted to protest. She just returned from a mission, and you should be caring for her, but there was no energy in your body. When she entered the kitchen, Lucky jumped on the couch beside you. You ran our fingers through his fur.

The action was mind-numbing, the repetitive motion of his fur through your fingers. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but Kate returned with a pizza box, and Lucky jumped to the ground. He wasn’t far, just by your feet. “Are you hungry?” She asked. You were, but your stomach twisted and turned. Dark thoughts filled your mind of how undeserving you were. “Just a few bites. I got your favorite.” She opened the box, and it was your favorite. You took a small piece, and with every bite, Kate kissed your forehead and whispered positive words in your ear. You had another slice, and once Kate ate, she put her arm around your shoulders and brought you closer. A conversation was on the horizon, but you were in no mood to talk about what led you here. It would only lead you to spiral more.

“I know we have to talk,” your voice was soft. “Can it wait? I want to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah, of course,” you felt her sigh. “I love you, baby girl. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too, Katie.”

You woke up in your shared bed with Kate. The archer was fast asleep, and at some point, she separated from you in the night. You smiled at how peaceful she looked so different from when she came home. You got out of bed as quietly as possible and went to the kitchen - making breakfast was the least you could do. There was little in the fridge. In your slow mental breakdown, you failed to fill the fridge. Come to think of it, that pizza you ate was your first meal since Kate left for her mission. God, your mother was right. You were worthless.

Deep within the freezer, you found a bag of frozen fruit and decided to make an acai bowl. So you divided the fruit, making sure Kate had more strawberries than blackberries, and placed it in the blender with some Greek yogurt. Thankfully, Kate was a heavy sleeper, and as the mixture was being blended, you started a fresh pot of coffee. Once it was blended, you poured the mixture into bowls.

It was on instinct. You picked up the two still-good bananas and the knife from the drawer. It was an action you’ve done 100 times, but this morning you hesitated.

Your eyes were trained on the knife every time you cut the fruit. It was dangerous to be this close to something sharp after last night. Dark and dangerous thoughts started to fill your head. You wondered how the knife you held would differ from the small razor blade you used. It could be deadly. “Sweetheart,” you snapped out of your thoughts. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly and set the knife down as your hands shook. “Sit, please. I made breakfast.” She sat at the table, and you placed the cut-up banana on top with some leftover granola you found. You brought it over to her with a coffee, and you quickly turned around to get your breakfast and return to her. You ate in silence. Occasionally, Kate would grab your hand and squeeze it. You wondered if she needed the reminder that you were here.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said and sipped your coffee. “I thought I’d get it under control before you came back.” Kate moved her thumb on the back of your hand.

“How long has this been going on?” You sighed, brought your knee up to your chest, and rested your chin on top.

“Since middle school, but I stopped when we got together. You made me feel grounded despite all the pressure and stress,” you explained. “When you went on the mission, one bad thing happened after the other.”

“Tell me what happened,” you told her about your lousy grade from your professor, the extra work your internship pilled on you, and the comments your family made. When you brought up your family, Kate tried to keep her face neutral, but her blue eyes turned stormy. She’s met your parents a handful of times and you knew how much she hated how they treated you. Once you were done with your story, it sounded foolish. It was typical pre-adult responsibilities; people were going through much worse. But Kate had a soft smile that almost caused the dame you were holding to break.

“You are so loved, baby girl. You are smart, beautiful, and kind. My world is so much brighter with you in it,” you felt your bottom lip tremble. Still, it was hard for you to believe. “Come with me,” she pulled you to your feet and towards the bathroom downstairs. She flicked on the lights and put you in front of the mirror. Her arms wrapped around your waist. “Look in the mirror,” you struggled to say, but you looked at yourself in the mirror. “My beautiful girl,” she mumbled, kissing the part of your skin uncovered by the hoodie. Her hands were warm as they moved under your hoodie and rested on your stomach. The warmth made you melt against your girlfriend’s solid frame. “I will say some sentences, and I want you to repeat them for me. Can you do that for me, baby?” You were a little hesitant but nodded. However, Kate gave you a stern look that said use your words.

“Yes, Kit Kat,” you smiled, using the nickname she hated. She tickled your sides, and your laughter danced off the bathroom walls.

“Okay, okay,” she said once your laughter turned to quiet giggles. Kate let out a shaky breath and turned her attention to the reflection. “I am strong,” you pouted when she expected you to say it back. It wasn’t true. You weren’t strong. At this moment, you felt so weak. “Come on, sweetheart, say it back to me.” You sighed.

“I am strong,” you mumbled. There was no belief in your words but Kate kissed your cheek.

“Good. I’m so proud of you. Alright, next one. I am smart,” she continued with more phrases. Each one was different from the next, but they had the same idea: I am confident, brave, and loved. Every time you repeated a phrase back, your voice was stronger, and a small part of you started to believe it. “Last one, beautiful,” she whipped away your tears with her thumb. I am enough.”

“Katie,” you whimpered. It was almost painful to say or believe. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” she squeezed you tight. “Say it.” She encouraged you and rested her chin on your shoulder. You closed your eyes. “I am enough.”

“I am,” Worthless. A disgrace. Dumb. “I am enough.” It was so soft. “I am enough.” The second time was stronger. “I am,” Loved. Beautiful. Strong. Brave. “Enough. I am enough,” you cried. Kate was quick to turn you around and pulled you into her arms. You clung onto her back as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“You are baby. You are enough, and I will remind you every single day.” It was hard to believe. After years and years of verbal abuse from your family, those thoughts weren’t going to disappear overnight. But you were stronger than them. You were better than them. You were enough.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop imagine #hawkeye x reader #kate bishop #hawkeye kate bishop

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wheneclipsefalls · 6 months

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Can you write sth where Neteyam gets jealous ? And kxolo assures him that he is forever his to calm him down? Btw I love your story so much.

Jealous Neteyam- A Ma Neteyam Special Episode

Pairing: Alpha Male OC x Aged up Omega Neteyam

Warnings: jealousy, insinuated sexual content, MDNI, alpha/omega dynamic, power imbalance, possessive behavior, threat of violence, PDA, etc.

A/N: Thank for this request nonnnie and everyone else that rooted for this "drabble". (Someone needs to teach me how to actually write a drabble because this ended up way too long). And thank you for being so patient<3

“Hold still.” Vamai hissed, free hand reaching out to put Neteyam back into place. The other omega, however, didn’t bother to give her words heed or even a second thought. Neteyam’s focused gaze remained trained on the pair across the clearing.

“Who is she?” He mumbled, forcing his voice to remain calm and collected, an effort that became increasingly more difficult as he watched the delicate omega’s tail flicker back and forth in delight while grinning up at the Olo’eyktan.

Vamai groaned dramatically when her friend shifted onto his knees, prowling forward to get a better look through the bushes. Swatches of vibrant colors were rubbed and scattered across Vamai’s hands from the homemade pastels she had been wielding for the past hour. Still, the portrait of Neteyam was far from over. At this rate, it seemed to her that it would never be finished in time.

“Her name’s Neyra, I believe. Just some silly omega.” Vamai huffed, determined to wave the conversation away. “Now if you’ll just face me and shut up for two seconds I promise to portray you properly in all your ethereal glory.”

Neteyam’s own tail curled when he saw the small female laugh loudly at the incoherent words coming from Kxolo’s lips. Neteyam’s sharp teeth drew blood upon seeing the small beginnings of a smile forming on his mate’s face. A smile that was usually directed at him. A smile that should be directed at him.

“Nete!” Vamai yanked on his tail, illiciting a responding hiss from him, finally turning around to face her. “Please for the love of Eywa, just give me five more minutes!”

Neteyam sighed and finally gave his friend some undivided attention. Or as much as he could handle while flickering his eyes over to the pair periodically.

“Remind me what it is you want to do with this portrait.” He was in no mood to sit for another hour, especially with the bouncing energy soaring through his veins. His hindbrain was quickly becoming restless, constantly baiting him to take actions that would end with Kxolo in his arms instead of by the over eager omega batting her eyelashes at him every two seconds.

Vamai shrugged, feigning a demeanor of nonchalance that was easy to see through. Her fingers worked viciously against the canvas, eyes darting up at him every other stroke. Taking a peek at the half finished work Neteyam had to admit it was a fascinating process. Combinations of vibrant colors were placed in the oddest of places and yet over time they began to form a picture that captured his likeness. Were it not for the screeching laughs of Neyra bashing against his eardrums, he would’ve found more interest in understanding her process.

“I just thought it would be a nice gift for Olo’eyktan. Lets him look at your pretty face whenever he wants.” She cooed, pinching Neteyam’s cheeks until he bit back at her hand. Neteyam was in no mood for teasing.

“Nice for him or nice for you that he’d be in a grateful mood?”

Vamai beamed proudly and gave a noncommittal shrug.

“What do you need from him?” Neteyam narrowed his eyes at her, for the first time paying full attention to Vamai.

“It’s always advantageous to be on Olo’eyktan’s good side.” Those golden orbs shone with plotting mischief. “Something you should do well to learn.” Vamai winked but Neteyam was already rolling his eyes. Her spiked laughter however, died off gradually.

“Oh.” She stared past his shoulder. Neteyam whipped his head around so fast a sting of strain bloomed along his neck. The discomfort quickly sunk to the back of his mind as he witnessed the female snuggling back against the Olo’eyktan as he directed her posture in shooting a bow and arrow. To Kxolo’s credit, he went stiff as a board under the younger girl’s touch. It, however, was nothing in comparison to the clipped retribution Neteyam wished Kxolo would give her. His own hand instinctively balled into a fist imagining what he would do if given the chance.

“Common whore.” Vamai scoffed.

No matter how infuriating the scene was to behold, his eyes couldn’t stop drinking it in. Slitted eyes traveled along their frames, analyzing every point of contact between the two. It wasn’t enough to notice the way Kxolo’s tail curled in apprehension or shifted his feet to lean away from the omega.

There shouldn’t be a need to shift away in the first place because Kxolo was not hers to touch. Not hers to run hands over and admire his impressive physique. Not hers to chatter away endlessly to all while intertwining soft pleasant words with poised bats of her eyelashes. Not hers to entrap in the act of innocent incompetence.

He had seen her shoot before, posture perfect and aim admirable. Neteyam was sure of it.

“Are you…going to do something about it?” Vamai questioned, leaning forward on her knees to get a better look.

Do what exactly though? Release his mate from her needy grasp by dragging her away by the hair?

No, that would only bring one thing. A red ass and additional lectures from his heated alpha about public appearances as Olo’eyktan’s mate. Neteyam had already been cutting at Kxolo’s patience earlier that day upon making a bratty comment during the painstakingly long meeting with Kxolo’s advisors. Neteyam all but betted on getting thrown over his mate’s knee after the pinned look that was sent his way. Turns out, flattery went a long way for the omega after all.

“I can’t. Wouldn’t be appropriate.” He emphasized the words with air quotes. The clink of grinding teeth made the omega realize how tightly clenched his jaw had become. Vamai hummed thoughtfully before putting the pastels to the side.

“Do you want me to hit her?”

“What?!”

Vamai made a show of rolling her shoulders and stretching those limber arms along her chest. Her overdone show of confidence greatly outmatched her physical appearance of strength. Neteyam was left wondering how she would fare in relation to the taller girl. He had learned that Vamai’s ego was not the most reliable source to base decisions off of.

“What? I can do it. Say the words and that bitch is on her knees.” Pastel covered hands twisted together to crack her small knuckle audibly. Laughter bubbled up his throat but there was no hint of humor present in the other omega’s resolve.

“N-no Vamai… you…you can’t.” He shook his head at the ridiculous idea. “Kxolo would be outraged.”

“That painting is practically a get out of jail free card.” She confidently asserted while rolling her eyes. “Just say the word.”

Perhaps not his best moment for his moral character, but imagined scenarios of Vamai flanking the unsuspecting girl to her knees played at the front of his mind’s eye. He wondered if her outrage would somehow be traced back to him. Even if not, could he really survive watching his friend suffer retribution while he carried the heavy weighted responsibility of the outcome? His parents had raised him to be honest and unfortunately for him, Neteyam found that this only resulted in making him a terrible liar with a heavy conscience.

“Just finish the painting.” His tone dragged with disappointment as he forced himself to turn away from the scene. Vamai opened her mouth as if to say something but hesitation flashed over her countenance before it was closed just as fast.

Neteyam’s one comfort was Vamai’s obvious surveillance of the scene behind him. Every stroke of those messy pastels followed by her sharp glare shooting past him.

Neteyam liked to think of himself as a reasonable Na’vi. Admittedly life had dealt him an interesting flurry of events that had provoked childish reactions out of him at times, but overall the male prided himself on being able to keep a lid on his emotions. No matter what his mate said, the omega had enough willpower to hide his mask of jealousy.

So, when they sat down around the familiar communal fire and Neteyam noticed the annoying girl among the crowd he skillfully averted his gaze towards the trees. The best form of self discipline was to not allow oneself the luxury of temptation. His alpha lounged next to him and engaged in friendly conversation over the day’s hunt and advisory meeting but Neteyam couldn’t recall a single topic from the interaction were a knife held to his throat. Neyra’s screeching laughter seemed to racket along the trees in an elaborate assortment of torment. His ears had pressed so fair into his braids, Neteyam momentarily worried they would become buried there.

Forcing his attention away from the group of gaggling girls had proven to be a full time job and one that came with very little reward. The small group of friends that surrounded him and his mate at every meal were caught up in their own affairs and pleasantries, leaving him to painfully suffer through a dinner of distracting himself. The effect, however, left him forgetting that he was still technically paying for the outburst earlier that morning. Fully immersed in his practice of self control the omega had completely missed Kxolo sharing the story of that particular instance with the group.

“It’s always a toss up what will win out first, huh? Neteyam’s flattering or Olo’eyktan’s heavy hand.” Pulo chuckled and it was the male's hand playfully knocking against his knee that finally made the words register.

“What?” He muttered, eyes darting among the group lazily.

“Are you feeling well, Neteyam?” Tamil cut in before the other alpha could tease him further. On a normal night the omega found Tamil’s voice a common source of comfort and ease. Currently, however, that pleasentry was stolen from him when his gaze was finally ensnared by the group of girls and he found them staring right to his left. Directly at Kxolo.

Kxolo who remained sprawled out across the moss with spread legs and attentive eyes that had shifted towards his small omega.

One of the girls with tightly wound cornrows leaned over to whisper something into Neyra’s ear. Through the haze of smoke drifting past the fire’s flame, Neteyam could still clearly make out the blooming blush that adorned her cheeks as she continued to stare at his mate. For the upteenth time that evening the group broke out into a fit of giggles. Neteyam couldn’t recall the sound being as aggravating when Kiri and her friends spent the night in the family hut and gossiped all hours. Now, however, it was equivalent to the brash of crunching metal as it was directed at his mate.

Wonder swirled to larger waves as he observed the way the girl’s eyes obviously raked over the alpha’s form without shame. At some point one of them in the back shyly pointed towards the flex of Kxolo’s bicep when he reached out to grab another leaf of meat. It was disgusting. An ultimate show of immaturity and that thought alone should have calmed him down into brushing their awe away but Neteyam couldn’t care less about their age.

He knew that jealousy had sunk its claws into him at that moment because all he could see the girls as were threats. Threats that needed to be neutralized.

“Fine.” He dully responded. Tamil shot him another concerned glance but it quickly shifted when he saw the small omega nestle up onto Kxolo’s lap.

As expected he was received graciously, if not a little surprised, but a happy hum at the back of Kxolo’s throat was all there was to show for it. Twisting himself around to be half facing Kxolo, Neteyam made himself comfortable between the outstretched muscular thighs. The usual warmth crawling up his bloodstream at the Olo’eyktan’s affectionate touches was dimmed. He preened back against the soft touches and brush along his shoulders but it was half hearted.

Instead Neteyam started to kiss slowly up the side of Kxolo’s neck. With a flick of his wrist, the Olo’eyktan had managed to silently signal the group to carry on conversation without them. He had become increasingly skilled at letting their friends know when it was time to divert their attention away. As his lips trailed up the expanse of smooth skin, Neteyam struggled to concentrate and get lost in the moment. He was all too aware of the onlookers from across the fire.

A large part of him yearned to twist and drink in their reactions fully, but that would spoil the moment. What good was a claim, after all, if it was only done half heartedly? Kxolo seemed to think the same.

“You’ll have to do a bit better than that, little one.”

Neteyam jumped, as if he had almost forgotten the male was there, the same man that he had his lips greedily trailing over.

“If you want to give them something worth watching you first need to forget they are there.” Kxolo captured his chin gently and forced their eyes to meet. As if under a spell that Neteyam was all too familiar with, ease rippled along his body. One look at those pools of melted gold and the omega could feel himself sinking into the moment.

Luckily for him, there was no hint of disapproval or anger present in the Olo’eyktan’s expression. He remained relaxed and at ease. If the omega squinted his eyes just right he could detect amusement in his mate’s countenance. Choosing to keep that part of him at bay from Neteyam or rather from the group of girls, it was hard to tell but he chose to take the blessing in stride. The outburst at the morning meeting must not have mattered after all.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Neteyam felt a sudden wave of apprehension lacing his stomach. It wasn’t often that Neteyam found himself in control of these situations. He had never realized how much he had become dependent and used to his alpha taking the reins. It was effortless and mesmerizing to follow Kxolo’s commands during their times of intimacy. Experiencing it from the other side, however, as the Olo’eyktan looked up at him expectantly, Neteyam suddenly felt massively inadequate.

Without thinking it through, the omega gravitated towards turking his face into the curve of Kxolo’s neck. There the musky scent was strong and soothing, a place Neteyam was familiar with being.

Then a chorus of shrieks and giggles ripped through that atmosphere, tearing his serenity to pieces. Neteyam dared to peek out of the corner of his eye and was rewarded with the sight of Neyra whispering to the group with a crooked smirk plastered along her thin lips. Vamai seemed to notice too if the harsh grip crushing her soft fruit was any indication. He briefly remembered her offer of taking the girl down and once again it glimmered with appeal.

No.

This was not her fight.

Kxolo was not her mate and therefore Neyra was not her enemy.

She was his.

Fuck the rules and fuck the consequences, he would sooner return to Eywa than let some silly school girl take his alpha away.

A burst of motivation flooded his veins and darkened his composure. So without warning, Neteyam licked a broad stripe over Kxolo’s mating mark. The effect had a vibrant shiver ripple through the alpha and it served to spur him on. Neteyam took particular joy in the way one of Kxolo’s legs incidentally kicked out as he bit down on the alpha’s mating mark. The shock was temporary, however, and before either of them knew it, they were completely enraptured in the moment.

The Olo’ektan’s hands trailed and mapped over Neteyam’s lower back and hips greedily as he took the torment on his throat in stride. The giggling had either ceased or Neteyam’s hearing had finally tuned them out, but regardless he was grateful for the reprieve. Especially when his alpha was emitting a low strain of groans to rumble his throat. Neteyam’s hips moved on their own accord as they rolled against Kxolo’s groin. Were it not for his mate’s stern hands pining those hips in place, the clan was sure to experience an explicit show in a matter of minutes.

Kxolo trailed his fingertips carefully over the groves of Neteyam’s spine with ultimate precision. It was a harsh comparison to the way the omega’s lips and teeth were tearing at the sensitive skin of his throat. Pulo was sure to not let this go for at least a few moons, especially with the marks that were sure to be blaringly visible by the end of the night.

The onslaught of kisses began their descent to Kxolo’s collarbone. This effectively had Neteyam bending down to reach the area and therefore arching his back for Kxolo’s viewing pleasure. His eyes took in the sight with a greedy lust clearly tangible from across the fire. One peek up at his alpha and Neteyam felt almost giddy to recognize that spark of desire in his mate’s eyes.

However, this time something else caught his attention instead. The shimmer of light across the black hair was borderline alluring and the omega found himself reaching for the kuru without another thought. The glossy braid was smooth against his delicate touch. Kxolo stilled.

Neteyam dared a peak up at his alpha only to be met with blown out pupils and raised eyebrows. He was weary, watching the omega with a posture that spoke of his readiness to jump in. However, luck was on Neteyam’s side because when he gently stroked down the length of the braid, all apprehension was blown to bits and Kxolo had to bite his bottom lip to keep a groan at bay. Success shined through the omega’s countenance.

His fingers continued to explore the hair protecting his mate’s most intimate part, banishing the looks thrown his way to the side. For a moment he swore he could hear Pulo’s muted chuckle but it was cut off abruptly. Perhaps he imagined it.

One thing was for sure, the little display did not go unnoticed. Frantic whispers were being exchanged across the fire from the cluster of young girls and the sound was music to Neteyam’s ears, especially when accompanied by his mate’s groans of pleasure he was trying to keep muddled. Confidence overtook him in stride and Neteyam allowed himself to take it one step further than he knew was allowed.

Without giving Kxolo a warning or time to intervene, the omega brought his own braid forward and eagerly allowed their tendrils to dance and wrap around one another.

Sparks of fire and electricity consumed his focus, enough to drown out the surprised gasp that came from his alpha. The stream of consciousness flowed freely between them like a river that Neteyam was more than happy to find himself lost to. No matter how many times they had made the bond, he never tired of the feeling, the absolute assurance that this intimacy was special and belonged to only them. He would web and flow between every passing thought and feeling thrumming in their bond until his muscles would relax and body mold to his mate’s.

However, there was no world where Kxolo believed this act was meant for a public setting. Shock and disapproval vibrated through the connection and Neteyam didn’t darelook up at his expression.

A single thought traveled down the length of their connection, until it had wedged itself into a comprehensible message in Neteyam’s brain.

Your mischief knows no bounds, little one

Warmth pooled at the base of Neteyam’s stomach as he continued to litter marks on the skin of Kxolo’s abused throat. From the corner of his eye he could easily spot the dumbfounded look on the girls’ faces. Not a single one of them seemed capable of whispering another remark or even regaining their composure.

My jealous little mate

Even from their mental connection, Neteyam could hear the inflection of amusement coming from Kxolo. His head whipped up to glare at the Olo’eyktan but that simply earned him a messy kiss. His fingers found their way into Kxolo’s decorated braids as his mate did him the great pleasure of claiming his mouth in a feral kiss. The sensation was enough to throw his world off its access and keep his head spinning.

Kxolo kissed as if he was devouring the poor boy and another thought rippled through the bond in suit.

Every piece of me already belongs to you, my love

Neteyam's hands tightened their grip in the silky hair as his lips continued to follow Kxolo’s lead.

I know

Despite the outright inappropriate display they were making, the omega could sense Kxolo’s deep satisfaction and pride brimming inside. This instance would no doubt be a moment that the Olo’eyktan would hold over his head and tease him about until Neteyam could no longer deny how head over heels he was for his mate, but that would be a later problem he was willing to endure.

I hope it’s worth it, baby boy, because as much as I love this new possessive side of you, your ass is going to reap the consequences of such misbehavior.

Their kiss broke as Kxolo then began to leave hungry kisses along Neteyam’s own untouched throat. He glanced over at Neyral to see her poor attempt at hiding her displeasure. Their eyes caught for a moment and she glared at him with blushing cheeks and a clenched jaw. The omega was quick to return the favor with a wide grin.

Oh it was worth it.

More than worth it.

Taglist: @kayjaydee17 @theunfortunateplace @creepytoes88 @perfectprofessorloverapricot @4ashes-stuff @neteyamssyulang @young5643-blog @namjooncrabs

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igotanidea · 6 months

Text

Crawl back to you: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Mexican!reader celebrating dia de los muertos, going throught the process of grieving after Jason's dead and her process of getting better through the years with a little plot twist at the end.

Thank you @thefandomdiaries07 - I played with the idea somewhat, hope you'll like it.

Disclaimer: this is not, in any way, a hate on religious belief, the reader's attitude just fit in the plot. (no offence to anyone meant here, truly)

***

Dia de los muertos.

Day of the Dead.

Despite her origin and upbringing Y/N never really felt connected to this celebration.

Remembering people who died and who she was too young to remember in the first place felt just … weird.

Of course, her mother, aunts and grandmothers got her involved in preparing the ofrenda and preached her about the importance of preparation for the souls’ arrivals but she always did it only half-heartedly, putting on a fake smile and pretending to enjoy the festivities.

But deep down she felt like a freaking hypocrite, while in fact not feeling anything.

And when her family moved to Gotham, out of all places, it got even worse. Poor girl felt conflicted, unaccepted, unsure of who she was and dealing with identity crisis, going as far as renouncing her ancestry to fit in the crowd. She was a teenager what else could you have expected.

Anyhow.

A few months passed and she got used to that god forsaken, lawless hole, keeping herself a bit away from her family, even if technically she was still living the same house. But with her struggles with ethnicity and traditions, she was a bit of a black sheep of the family, having not many true friends and spending most of the time alone,

recklessly wondering alongside the streets, pretending to be a freaking globetrotter.

And that was how one day she got involved with the batfamily, starting from being saved from an assault, by the Batman sidekick, Robin.

Jason Todd.

Whose name she learnt a few weeks later, having lost all the hope to see that red, green and yellow bird boy ever again.

However, surprisingly, those two clicked fast enough and even though they were technically still young teenagers something bigger than friendship started creeping in.

He kissed her for the first time when they were 15.

And it was magical, romantic and send her into a spiral of love and dreams and worries and thoughts about future.

It was pretty much prefect for a whole year, as they somehow managed to make it work despite being forced to keep their relationship a secret from both families.

Imagine the panic that would spread in her family if they knew she was in love with a vigilante.

Imagine the panic that would spread in his family if they knew he told his identity to a girl he fell for.

That was obviously a no go.

So they kept on meeting in secret.

Almost every night she sneaked out of the house to check out on him after patrol and he was escaping Batman’s watchful gaze to have at least a few hours together alone with .

But one night changed everything.

He went to search for his biological mother.

And she should have stopped him or tell him how reckless he was being or do anything to dissuade him from this idea. Instead she laid her head on his shoulder, holding onto him tighter, kissing his lips briefly and making him promise he’d report to her the second he gets back.

A promise he never kept.

***

“Hello? Who’s this?” she picked up her phone, blissfully unaware of the news that was about to fall upon her.

“Hey… um… is this Y/N?” an unrecognisable male voice reverberated on the other side

“Yes” she frowned “Who is this?” the girl asked again.

“My name’s Dick Grayson. I’m Jason’s older adoptive brother. We’ve never met but… I know you two were close…”

Wait. Did he just say were close?

“What – what happened…?”

The receiver fell from her hand, tears flooded her face and her heart broke in half.

***

His funeral was probably the worst day of her life, even though she couldn’t remember much more than the see of blackness, plenty of people she knew from Jason’s stories but saw for the first time and some meaningless words of consolations.

***

YEAR ONE

It had been eight months since his death and she was still grieving, unsure if the pain in her chest would ever subside or the tears would ever dry.

In that short time, she had become very close to Jason's brother, Dick, who was the perfect definition of an eldest child and had sort of taken her under his wing (pun intended). After everything with Jason and everything in between, she couldn't and didn't want to stay in Gotham, a place that was a painful reminder of the past.

Y/N took a different route every time she came across the places where they hung out or where they first kissed and where they secretly met at night and considering the fact that Gotham wasn't that big, it was slowly becoming impossible to move. And going to school and seeing couples and happy people was like a shot to the heart, making her a walking fountain almost every school break.

She felt a sudden need to get away from everything and moved to Bludhaven, where she started a new school and where Dick made sure she was safe and (as much as possible, meaning not much at all) happy.

It was October and dia de los muertos was right around the corner, of which her family was kind enough to inform her, inviting the girl to the family celebrations, and mentioning the resulting obligations of the living.

Making her angry at first.

Angry and with the sense of unfairness and stupidity of life. You’re there one second, enjoying the presence of the loved ones, and then, in another second you are just gone and it’s like you never really existed.

What was the point of life, apart from constant suffering and uncertainty of tomorrow?

This whole celebration freaking sucked, and she was not going to celebrate the death, having loved and lost the most important person in her young life!

But…

Once she got herself into that spiral of thinking, Y/N slowly started feeling something more than annoyance at her nation’s cultural habits, overwhelming depression and lack of any motivation to move on. Maybe…

It was the first time she had someone she knew to remember. And to hope that maybe, on this special day, his soul were walking amongst the living and watching her from the other side even if she could not do the same.

Maybe…

And if he was, maybe it was her only chance to somehow communicate with him, tell him all the words she kept hidden in her soul, that never found a way out. Perhaps from the silent beating of her heart he would feel the love that was still there, the longing, the needing and the fact that despite being gone, he wasn’t and would never be forgotten by her.

Her eyes grew wide and she jumped off the bed, gathering all the necessities and beginning her work.

***

“Y/N?” Punctual as always Dick entered the apartment, carrying the box with her favourite takeout. It was their Thursday tradition to have some good food and hang out together and he was not going to be a breaker. But he definitely did not expect to see his friend kneeling on the floor in front of something that looked like a tiny stairs, painted in red, green and yellow ending with an arch. It was decorated with something he recognised as salt, candles, water and marigold flowers. And the whole apartment smelled like lavender for some reason. “Y/N? What are you doing?” he put the food on the table, seriously concerned by her mental state.

“Oh!” she almost jumped at the sound of his voice, turning around to face him. “Hey, Dick. It’s just a little celebration.”

“Of what?” he frowned, not understanding a thing. “What is this?”

“ofrenda” she explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but his confused gaze made her realise that maybe not everyone were familiar with the festivity. “an offering.”

“An offering? Of what? To who? And why?”

Y/N almost rolled her eyes.

“I thought Bruce made you go the private school. Don’t you know anything about dia de los muertos?”

“I thought you were done with your national customs?”

“I was…” she sighed deeply reaching for the picture she was about to hang in her little altar. Jason, smiling, happy at some point back in time, that was never supposed to go back. She took the photo at one of their walks in the park in the autumn, with the sun shining and colourful leaves falling down from the trees. “but things have changed…” Y/N whispered, caressing Jason’s cheek on the photo, her eyes still shining with love and affection, but also tinged with sadness. “I miss him…”

“I know, Y/N. I miss that little prick too.”

“Yeah, he was a prick, wasn’t he? And an asshole, sometimes.” She chuckles as Dick sat on the floor next to her. “I bet if he’s around he’s annoyed at us bad-mouthing him.”

“If he’s around?”

“Yeah, the whole point of this day is that the souls come back to earth to visit us.”

“so it’s basically something like Halloween.”

“ more or less so. But cut the haunting part.” She smiled a little “We can’t see the deceased but we can feel them…”

“do you?”

“do I what?” Y/N frowned at his question. “Do I feel him?”

“Yeah. Sorry if it’s too soon or too bold thing to say, Y/N…”

“It’s not. It’s okay. I can’t exactly feel him, but it doesn’t mean he’s not here. We both agreed he was a prick sometimes, maybe he’s just hiding from me. Just to tease me. But that won’t stop me from calling upon him even from beyond the grave.”

She stood up and put the picture at the top stairs.

“Hey Todd, if you’re somewhere there, I’m not gonna go easy on you. See you next year, you little asshole.”

YEAR TWO

“Hey, Y/N, I dropped by decorating store and bought some things for your ofrenda this year, wanna take a look at them?”

YEAR THREE

You know, Dick, I’m not sure if Jason would appreciate us using the cape here….

“Your limiting my imagination….”

“I don’t care. I’m in charge. Remove it, now”

YEAR FOUR

Did you make the ofrenda without me, Grayson!?

YEAR FIVE

No way in hell she was going to let Dick take charge this year. For the past four of them he was growing more and more fond of the day of the dead, starting from assisting and doing shopping ending on going behind her back in finalising his own crazy concept. And finally, the tide had changed and Y/N had to put her foot down.

“What do you mean you want me to leave?!” Dick cried out the second she told him what punishment she chose for him “Y/N! Why?! It’s so unfair, I – “

“You hijacked my preparations last year. And two years ago. And to tell the truth, three years ago as well!”

“I didn’t – ok, fine…” he raised his hands in surrender “but you can’t blame me for that! It’s really fu-“ he stopped in the middle of the sentence.

“You wanted to say funny, didn’t you?” Y/N raised an eyebrow and Dick blushed a little. Maybe it was a bit inappropriate and unfortunate word to use.

“NO! No I wanted to say… um…” Dick was desperately searching for more accurate wording, also starting with fu, but obviously the alternatives were even worse.

“See that’s the whole point. You kind of missing the message of the day. Yes, sure, it’s supposed to be fun way to honour the dead and tame death in some way, but still it’s also supposed to be at least a little bit of an opportunity to stop for a second and think about things and people. I really appreciate your positive attitude and it’s not like I’m kicking you out, but...”

“but you do.” Dick smirked and nodded with understanding.

“I just feel like I need to be alone for a while, ok? It’s been five years and at his point I feel like I sometimes need to focus to even remember his face without a photo. It’s all becoming a blur, lost in the joy and amusement. And I don’t want that. I want to remember.”

“Is that why you never gave any boy any chance to –“ he cut out again without really thinking what he was saying.

“Grayson… “ she trailed warningly.

“I’m out! I’m out! Don’t hit me!” he rushed towards the exit. “Just call me when it will be safe to come back, ok?”

“Got it. Now get out!” she chuckled, closing and locking the door behind her friend.

Every little word she said was true.

She wanted to remember.

She had to remember.

It was the only way to fill that little dent in her heart, that Jason left when he died. She couldn’t just let go of him, even though Dick was probably right, and after so many years she should have moved on. But both her heart and her soul refused to do so.

Maybe you only get one chance to meet your soulmate and Y/N was close to sure that Jason has been hers.

”It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" she whispered the quote to herself while reaching for Jason’s photo she chose for this year’s decoration, turning them over in her hands for a while, looking at the face of a 15 year old she used to know “I wonder what you would look like now. Bet you’d be even more handsome and all the girls would be jealous I got such a catch.” She laughed a little “Hope you don’t hear me now, cause god damn, that would be such an ego booster for you.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” The sudden male voice coming from behind her made her jump (almost the mirror situation to the one that occurred five years ago when Dick found her preparing the ofrenda). But this time it was not Dick standing in her apartment.

“What the actual fuck!?” she yelled taking a fighting stance she learned from Grayson, knowing it would not help her at all due to the shaking of her body at the view in front of her.

“Handsome, huh?” Jason Todd in the flesh, absolutely not dead, brushed some unruly hair from his forehead, looking at her with a playful expression

“¡Estas muerto! ¡Eres un fantasma! ¡¿Qué está pasando?! Cómo –?“ as usual when she got nervous she started using Spanish. (you’re dead! You’re a ghost! What’s going on?! How-?)

“Baby…” Jason took a step forward, hesitantly. “Baby…” he opened his arms “I;m not dead, I swear to you. I-“

She cut him off by diving into his embrace, holding him tightly, wanting to make sure that he wasn’t just a friction of her imagination and needing to feel his warmth, the beating of his heart and his breathing.

“You’re really here!” she cried out, tears falling down her cheeks like a waterfall when she nuzzled into his chest. Honestly, she didn’t need any explanation, at least not at this point. She only wanted him close, afraid that if she let go for as much as a second he would disappear again. “Swear to me this is not a dream…” she muttered, against his shirt. “Swear to me.” Her entire body shook from the shock, she felt so small in his arms, but also safe as never before. It was like after five long years she got home again, that this missing part of her heart was found, and immediately jumped into the place reserved solely for him, unrepleacable. She was whole again and that was what count.

“Baby…. Oh, my sweet girl…” Jason wrapped his arms around her, caressing her back and hair, pulling her even closer, wanting to comfort her, to give her all that love and peace she was deprived of for what felt like ages. “I’m really here. I’m here. My baby… I’m back to you.” He whispered, closing his eyes, feeling equally, if not more emotional than her. He’s been through hell but the only though that made him keep on going was her. His angel. His joy. His only source of light in the eternal darkness that seemed to surround and swallow him. His grip on her tightened and he hoped to convey all these unspoken words to her through hugs and caresses and the gentle brushing of his lips against her temples.

“I love you…” she sobbed desperately, blurting out the only thing that was on her mind at the moment. “I missed you and I love you and –“

“I know baby. I love you too. And I promise you, you’ll never have to worry about hanging my picture in your altar ever again. Ever. I’ll crawl back to you every time and not even death can stop me from being with you. ”

And they just stood there, next to something that was supposed be an tribute to not-so-dead Jason Todd, holding and hugging each other tightly, creating the little bubble only for them two and being so very happy cutting out the entire world and reality, lost in daydream that happened to be the upcoming future for two people that have loved, have lost, and luckily, have found a way back to each other.

Talking could wait.

Silence, in the company of the only person that mattered, came first.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood angst #red hood fluff #dick grayson x reader

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captain039 · 8 months

Text

PART 5 last part Big bear

Halsin x reader

Warnings: AOB, feelings, tav insert, Angst, abuse, truama, hurt/comfort,

Previous part <-

Leaving hadn’t been an option, even if you wanted to. The suppressors were wearing off just as quick as you took them. Your body felt like it was on fire, you couldn’t keep food or water down. Everyone’s scent was over powering especially a certain Druid’s. You felt like clawing your insides out, the gods truely hated you. You ignored Tav who had approached a few times with food, snacks and water. This would pass and you’d go to the woods, find a place to live out the rest of your days before you died alone and quietly.

Halsin hadn’t stopped pacing since this morning, he hadn't slept, his mind raced and his thoughts were scrambled. You pushed him away and he should respect your boundary’s, but you were in pain and he could ease it. He was too pent up from watching from afar, Tav had come to him a few times trying to offer kind words, but he shrugged them off without thought. He hadn’t meant to be rude and ignoring, but you were shaking on that stupid hay bale, you’d thrown up twice now and you didn’t drink or eat. His second nature was close to forcing you to accept his help, but he knew that wasn’t the way, that would end badly, you’d reject him even more and he’d cast himself out. He didn’t know your past, but it held you in a vice grip and you were drowning in it.

Nighttime finally came, you wanted a nice warm bath and maybe some strong alcohol or potion to knock you out. You felt to dizzy to stand up though.

“Told you, you needed me” you shot up this time, seeing the elder standing by your bed. You felt fear rush through your body as you shook your head.

“No, you’re dead!” You said and she cackled.

“I’m a witch! You’ll never kill me!” She yelled, but nobody else seemed to hear her.

“Hiding here like a coward, you should be spilling blood!” She hissed and you whimpered.

“You’re not real” you whispered shaking your head.

“Oh I am! You’ll never be free of me!” Her smile was evil, her laugh echoing in your ears as you cried out.

She was suddenly gone, your whole body shaking in terror and a worried alpha in front of you, holding your arms gently. You flinched from him, quickly looking around seeing the elder gone.

“Did you see her?” You asked and he frowned glancing around the barn.

“I saw no one, just heard your cry” he said carefully and you felt tears in your eyes, even in death she haunts you.

“She’s not dead” you said and he frowned, but it clicked.

“I killed her, I assure you” he said and you shook your head.

“She wants me back, I’ve had my freedom” you muttered, someone else held your fate once again.

“She’s not here” Halsin said and you growled.

“Why’re you here still!” You yelled.

“I’ve told you to leave me alone! I should’ve spilled your blood when I had the chance” you sneered.

You looked out your eyes, like you were inside your head, but not the one in control as you sneered at Halsin. You yelled and cried banging against invisible walls.

Hearing your cry had never ran so fast in his life, something put horrid fear in you, your stench of anxiety and fear filling his nose instantly. When you mention a she he thought back to the witch, was she tormenting you even in death? Your face seemed to glaze over and someone else’s eyes stared at him as you began yelling and threatened. He felt the sting he did, but he knew it wasn’t you, oak father, he needed to help you somehow. He held your arms gently, closing his eyes and letting his magic flow from him to you. You were still sneering and threatening him, but he ignored you, he didn’t care if you sliced him down, he’d hand you a blade if it made you happy.

You felt magic flow through you and suddenly your mind was your own. You heard a cry in the distance and watched Halsins face squint slightly before he opened his eyes.

“What did you do?” You asked quietly.

“Removed her, she somehow reached you in death, she won’t anymore” he said softly as tears returned to your eyes.

“I’m sorry” you said looking away feeling the ache return to your body. His scent filled your nose and your body shuddered slightly at the warmth it filled you. You breathed him in for a moment, the smell of leather and earth on him, the calmness of an alpha, the care of an alpha. You had closed your eyes as a few tears dropped, you were lost.

Halsin hesitated as he let you go and you didn’t blame him for wanting to leave, you just needed to lie down again. The alpha surprised you though when you were suddenly scooped up gently in large arms. He sat down on the hay bale, his back against the broken wall. You felt your muscles loose feelings like a rag doll. You shuffled a bit legs by his hips as you cried into his chest.

“I don’t know what to do” you sobbed as his one of his hands ran gently up and down your back.

“You overcome, you heal, it’ll take time though”he whispered as you sagged even more sensing his sadness.

“How?” You muttered.

“With help” he said softly.

“Who would want to help me after what I did?” You scoffed lightly.

“Me” he whispered arms going around your waist to hold you closer.

Tag list:

@perseny

@iwannabealocalcryptid

@thatcutewerewolf

@aeryntheofficial

@vinithechocolatevampire

#Halsin x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #alpha Halsin #x reader #aob #bg3 #tav

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yhwhsdaughter · 5 months

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pic

Yoon Bum x Reader

[Name] was Yoon Bum’s first and only love since childhood, which seemed like a lifetime ago. He never really knew when these feelings began, but it was consuming him. Bum longed for her; the constant pain in his chest was proof of that. And it hurt. It hurt whenever she’d look at anyone that wasn’t him. Why not me? He would repeatedly ask himself. Still, when her eyes would grace him, Bum’s heart would beat faster, pumping blood into his system, elongating his life but prolonging his affliction. If it wasn’t for her, Bum would've died a painful death a long time ago.

At the remembrance of his unrequited feelings, a cough erupted from his lips. It was particularly nasty, that, [Name]—who was putting on her shoes—turned at the series of coughs coming from Yoon Bum. She craned her neck to look at him, sliding her right shoe before standing. “Are you alright?”

Bum quickly hid the tissue that he’d spit the blood in, attention flickering to her. This was a common occurrence for him, but he could never get a solid grasp on it. Bum blinked, trying not to cry as he reached for [Name], his lips unable to open, lest another mouthful of blood came out.

At his unresponsive actions, [Name] walked closer, grasping his face gently with her hands upon noting the blood at the corner of his mouth. Her thumbs worked tenderly, wiping the blood off. Bum was euphoric. He never shied away from her touch. When her fingers made contact with his face, Bum's lips parted in a quiet gasp.

“What is this?” Vomiting blood wasn’t normal by any means. “Have you gone to see a doctor?” Yoon Bum was accustomed to blood by now that it didn't phase him. He briefly wondered if he could finally tell her everything, but the discomfort in his chest made him silent. Lowering his gaze, he observed her precious fingers, painted with his blood. He had the urge to hold her hands, his fingers twitching at the notion. “Bum. Are you ignoring me?”

Oh no. At the sound of her stern tone, Bum met her gaze for a second before quickly glancing away, looking apologetic and a bit pathetic. “I...uh…” Bum didn’t know what to say, so he hesitantly outstretched his hand towards hers. “Alright, if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine.” [Name] turned to leave which made Bum jolt in panic. He didn’t want her to leave.

Both of his hands grasped onto her arm, causing her to look back. “What?” If there was anything that Bum disliked, was [Name] being upset with him. His grip tightened, and it was surprisingly strong his skinny frame. He seemed desperate to hold on to her, pleading, “Don't leave.”

“Tell me.”

Bum whined. Even with the silent threat of leaving him, Bum stayed silent. Instead, his hands moved up her face. “Bum.” [Name] spoke seriously. Despite the roughness in her voice and demeanor, Bum had known her long enough to see that she was worried. He was beating himself up internally for causing her beautiful brow to furrow.

[Name] held onto his wrists securely, tight enough to keep him in place but not tight enough to harm. “Answer me now, or I leave.” Bum's eyes widened when he realized that she wasn’t bluffing, a cold sweat beading down his forehead. Bum swallowed, “I…”His words became caught in his throat as he tried to force out a single sentence. “I have.. Hanahaki disease.”

“What?”

“It's…,” Bum struggled to explain, his lips trembling from a flurry of emotions. “It's the reason behind my coughing, the pain I feel in my chest. Why I’ve clung to you for so long. It's why I can spend hours just staring at the way you talk, the way you smile, but also...the reason why I spend hours crying to myself in bed that we're not together.” His voice was soft and strained. [Name] stared at him with an overwhelmed expression.

“I love you so much.. that my heart hurts.”

“How long?”

Bum's eyes started to water as he couldn't find the strength to speak anymore. His words had failed him, so instead he pulled her closer. The more contact she had with him, the less pressure on his chest. His lips were inches away from her neck.

“Bum, for how long..?!”

At that moment in time, Bum didn't care for anything else. He wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in her embrace. If this is where he would finally be rejected—the final nail on his coffin, he would at least get to do this—Bum pulled [Name] towards him and planted a gentle kiss on her neck. She was all he lived for; her love was all he needed.

[Name] pulled him back, her hands holding firmly onto the ball of his shoulders, “How long has this been going on?” Bum's lips parted from her neck. “Ten years..” his voice timidly confessed.

“You’re telling me… you’ve been suffering like this for ten years..?”

If Bum had just told her from the beginning, he could've spared himself from agonizing for 10 long years. But, he didn't want to risk the rejection—the mere thought of [Name] leaving him hurt even more. Bum pressed his cheek against the side of her neck again, his nose nudging her skin as if it could find an ounce of comfort in it. [Name] pulled him back again, gripping the sides of his face, “Why?? Why did you not tell me?”

For the first time, Bum raised his voice. His emotions were getting the better of him, and he didn't care about keeping this a secret anymore. If he could scream his feelings from the rooftops, he would. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you looking at me differently!” Everyone else thought he was a waste of space—a freak. But not [Name]. Not the girl who grew alongside him and stuck by him all these years, despite contrary advice.

Bum's desperation was as real as his words. Tears started to fall, rolling down his cheeks. [Name] sighed, loosening her hold. “…What can I do to help?” Bum's eyes widened. He felt like crying, laughing, screaming of joy. There was only one thing he wanted.

“Love me.”

[Name] blinked. Without hesitation, she kissed him. It was almost instinctual when Bum parted his lips in response. He couldn't help but moan as [Name] introduced her tongue, tasting the blood in his mouth. This was love, this was love..!

All of Bum's pain was erased with a few moments of her kiss. Those intense months of discomfort and aches, amounting to this—tasting [Name]’s love. She backed him into the wall, pulling away shortly after. [Name] slid down to her knees, “I’ll take care of you.” Her hands went to the waistband of his pants, pulling at it.

Bum's eyes widened like saucers, an intense blush settling on his cheeks. This wasn't at all what he was expecting, but his face couldn't hide his excitement and his body certainly didn't protest. He was almost too excited for words, but that didn't stop him.

“...[Name]...”

Once his pants were down at his ankles, [Name] kissed his thigh gently. A soft moan escaped his lips as he watched her free his erection.

“Why did you allow yourself to suffer for so long..?”

Bum's breath staggered at her question, but his body remained still, wringing his hands in embarrassment. “I just...couldn't...ever ask.” His voice was low but as [Name] continued her ministrations, his breathing became more erratic. Her mouth enveloped him and the warmth nearly made Bum buck his entire cock down her throat; it took a lot of restraint not to come quickly, as well. Her hands squeezed the tender skin of his pale thighs. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Bum tilted his head back in pleasure. He was losing himself in this explosion of pleasure.

[Name] pulled away, her lips a bit swollen and mouth filled with Bum’s seed. She swallowed most of it as she stood again, facing Bum’s love struck face.

“I love you…”

[Name] was a bit taken aback when he pulled her in for a kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Soon, their kiss was mixed with saliva, semen, and blood. His tongue explored her mouth, taking in every taste. A mix of sweet, salty and a hint of iron that was a reminder of his condition. His eyes remained half-lidded but his gaze was focused on you.

“I love you.”

He needed to say it again, to repeat it as many times as he had to. “I know.” Their kisses ended up taking them to his bed—well, the dirty mattress he had on the floor of his ratty room. Bum only wished this could’ve been at a nicer place, like [Name] deserved. Another part of him was elated. This meant that [Name] truly cared for him, right? Skinny and poor as he was, she was touching him fervently.

Bum's love was a deep, intense feeling that wasn't always easy to express in words. But his caress, his eyes, could all express them easily. Clothes were discarded quickly; [Name] straddled Bum as she threw her shirt and sweater to the side, revealing her breasts. They stared at each other, taking in the naked flesh and imprinting it to memory.

“Ngh..”

[Name] grasped his cock with one hand, aligning it with her entrance before sinking in completely, drawing out a cacophony of moans from both. Bum's grip grew tighter, and his breaths became rapid. He didn't want this moment to end. “Please…” he couldn’t think clearly with [Name] bouncing on his cock with ardor. Her hips moved slower after he spurted ropes of cum into her womb, leaning down to bite his neck and sucking on the flesh whilst her fingers pinched his nipples. “Aaah..!”

Bum's voice was low, strained with the waves of pleasure that took over his body. Her name slipped out of him in between desperate breaths. [Name] caressed his hair gently, pushing out a few strands that had become stuck to his forehead, before kissing it. Bum’s breath was ragged, his body trembling as it reached its breaking point.

Afterwards, they headed to the dingy shower to take a bath and cleanse themselves of the sweat and release. The bathtub had barely enough space for both of them to fit. [Name] sat in front of him, staring pensively. This reminded her of their time as children. Their mothers were best friends, inseparable. Bum and [Name], born in the same year, months within each other, were each other’s company out of the womb. When they were babies, their mothers would bathe them together, wishing their children would become best friends like they were, or closer.

[Name]’s eyes analyzed Bum, searching for any sign of distress. She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of him suffering due to her ignorance. And then she wondered if this is how he felt every time. Bum rested against the side of the tub, drifting sleepily but his eyes fluttering open to look at her. A hand reached out to caress her hair, his fingers moving through the strands of her wet hair with a calmness that made his heart flutter with joy. “Will it stop now..?”

Oh. That. He’d almost forgotten about his illness from how happy he was. “There’ll still be some symptoms…,” Bum whispered, “My lungs will be weak for a while. Sometimes I'll spit up daffodils…”

“But you won’t die right?” [Name] pressed, leaning forward a little, worried. Bum felt giddy at her concern. She cared for him. Even as children, despite being the younger of the two, [Name] always had a protective streak when it came to him. He smiled boyishly at her question. “A-As long as you love me, I'll be fine…”

He bit his lip, wondering if it was okay to be selfish. Bum didn’t want [Name] to be with anyone other than him. “Promise you'll stay with me? I don't ever want to be separated from you again.” He said desperately. More than anything, he wanted to keep her. “Mn.” [Name] agreed without reproach, leaning over to kiss him, first gently and then passionately. Bum eagerly returned her affection. He moaned as he felt the kiss end, his mouth tasting her sweetness and his breath catching with excitement.

“More, please....”

He begged, not wanting this moment to end and to lose the taste of her affection. [Name] tried to maneuver her body on top of his but the space was cramped. With an annoyed grunt, she shifted to be on her knees, hands holding to the edges of the tub. “Let’s just do it like this..”

“O-Okay..” In all honesty, he would’ve preferred to see her face but Bum wasn’t about to turn down any opportunity to touch [Name]. His hands found their way to her hips.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whined.

“I won’t.”

As soon as he entered, he came. Despite being the one inside her; Bum felt that [Name] was the one making an empty man like him feel so full. “Bum..” she complained at his quick orgasm. He was a bit embarrassed, “I couldn't last long with you if I tried…” His breathing was slow and ragged, eyes glued on her back so that every curve she had was visible to him and only him. Bum could feel her wet body against his. His movements were a clumsy attempt at proving his love. His hands caressed [Name], every touch sending butterflies through his stomach. It all felt like a dream, one that he never wanted to wake up from. Yoon Bum was just a man. A boring man, with a disease that was a burden, to him and her—yet she still loved him. She made him feel special—worthy of love. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to say how he felt. He could never feel this way towards anyone else. Being inside [Name] was the closest he could get at becoming one.

“I love you so much…”

“Ngh… I love you.. “ she breathed.

The feeling of her body against his was unlike anything else he'd ever felt, and he just wanted it to keep going forever. Bum, obsessive in his thoughts, kept repeating softly, “Please never leave me, [Name]...”

#✎ ks #➶ bum #yoon bum x reader #yoonbum x reader #ks yoonbum #bum x reader #ks koogi #bum killing stalking #killing stalking yoonbum #killing stalking

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toctua · 1 month

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🥀 TOCTUA'S FRIENDS TO LOVERS [PART I] 🥀

🥀The acquaintance and then friendship of Tom and Noctua was an ordinary coincidence: a filled Hogwarts Express and the only almost empty compartment where she boarded. They are 11 and both of them are eager to see Hogwarts from the inside and learn its secrets.

🥀Tom thought that he would tolerate her for a while, especially since Noctua turned out to be a pureblood. young Tom was going to take EVERYTHING he needed out of her and leave her. But this did not happen.

🥀Noctua was surprisingly flexible and, what Tom liked most, knew how to keep secrets. He loved the way she ignored conversations that didn't concern her, losing herself in her own thoughts. He liked that she seemed not to notice his inclinations, apparently due to the fact that she grew up in a completely deserted place.

🥀The first time he opened up to her, it all turned into a search for his magical roots and the terrifying truth about his origins. Tom didn't seem to care at all that he and Noctua were second cousins, and she was confused. He took advantage of this too, putting pressure on pity little by little, forcing her to become more and more attached to him.

🥀They often hushed this up among themselves, until one day, as a joke, she began whispering to him in Parseltongue, saying all sorts of stupid things. It was such a boring day that Tom didn’t even notice how he picked up this fun from her. And this is just one of the little things that have been following them since that day.

🥀Thread by thread, their friendship grew stronger by connecting themselves with such seemingly trifles. Tom was sure that she was the only one he could truly trust. His blood. A piece of his puzzle that so perfectly fills in the missing pieces of the picture.

🥀And over time, their constant presence with each other became an integral part of Tom Riddle’s life. They explored the castle together, year after year, collecting bits and pieces of knowledge that was not taught at Hogwarts. They studied everything inside and out, but working as a team this always seemed not enough.

🥀And when Noctua became seriously ill (in the fifth year of Hogwarts), and Tom remained separated from her, something inside him grated unpleasantly. Although he had followers, he missed the feeling of her walking side by side with him. For the first month, he came to see her in the hospital wing, until Noctua was sent to St. Mungo's for 3 long months.

🥀It seemed to Tom that a chink had appeared in his armor. It was as if he was walking with his back bare, into which the gun was constantly pointed. He missed this carelessness and the confidence that Tom felt next to her. He decided to fight this caustic feeling.

🥀This was the year they wanted to find the Basilisk, and Tom set out to do it alone, to prove to himself that Noctua was not so important. He definitely got carried away, so much so that half-giant Hagrid was eliminated and poor Moaning Myrtle died. Tom liked it, it wasn’t perfect, his hands were still shaking nervously, and something clearly clicked in his head.

🥀Noctua returned to school. She noticed changes in Tom, it was not difficult to guess that something had happened. He became emotional in front of her, swore that everything had happened so suddenly, he thought the toilet was empty, and then… His voice trembled… And she believed. He got away with all this theater so easily. Noctua was exhausted from dragon pox and Riddle happily took advantage of this.

p/s/ omg I'm so sorry this is taking so long. I have already written the full text, but I have one more illustration to do. I'm currently overloaded with my hyperfixes and therefore I'm taking on everything a little bit at a time… I hope the second part won't take much time…

I know it's not perfect, but I tried to convey their relationship as best I could. It was much easier to do this from Tom's perspective, since the previous sketches from Noctua's perspective were slightly chaotic and did not give a complete picture of the canon…

#toctua #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #noctua cowell #lord voldemort #tom riddle x oc #voldemort #harry potter oc #hp oc #harry potter

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holylulusworld · 8 months

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Papillon (1) - The lion's den

Summary: Your secret is out and there is no way out...

Pairing: Mobster!Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, roughness, unwanted kissing, threats, dubcon, pre-smut, tension, betrayal, mafia au, darkish!Clark Kent

<< Prologue

Papillon Masterlist

“This is insanity,” you try to outstep Clark, but he roughly grabs your arms. He shakes you, laughing like one of the villains in a bad movie. “Let go of me. I’m not some bitch you found at a bar. I’m a federal agent!”

“You are what I allow you to be, Papillon. Tonight, I want you to be my whore. Tomorrow, I haven’t decided yet,” he snarls. “So, what will it be? Will you go down on your knees and beg me for forgiveness or call your boss?”

You purse your lips and raise your chin. Clark Kent is scary as shit, but you won’t cower in front of him. Your boss and colleagues will have your back. You’re sure about it.

“I’ll call my boss,” you grit out as his hold on your arms tightens.

Fuck, he’s so strong and tall, and the glimmer in his eyes tells you to not make another mistake.

“How about I call him? He will confirm that you are mine to play with.”

You look up at Clark with angry eyes, but your pulse quickens. He looks so confident and sure about what he says. “Go ahead.”

“Aw, you still believe someone will come for your aid,” he taunts you. “Watch me, papillon. Soon, you will know that only I care for your well-being from now on.”

He cups your face with both hands, making you feel even smaller. “I don’t think so.”

“You’ll change your mind,” he roughly claims your lips, tongue forcing its way inside your mouth. You weakly push against his chest, while debating to bite his tongue. “Let me call him, and after, you will go down on your knees.”

He steps away, leaving you breathless and scared as he walks toward his desk. You want to tell him to shove his arrogance up to his ass, but you are not suicidal.

Clark sits on his comfortable swivel chair, smirking darkly as he dials your boss’s number. He leans back, watching you wring your hands.

Your eyes drift toward the door, and you wonder if you can make it out of the room and house before a bullet ends your life.

“Perry, how are you,” Clark’s grin widens. He imitates a Cheshire grin, making you squirm. “I got your little agent here. I caught her in my web, and I’d like to keep her for fun.”

You swallow thickly when Clark puts your boss on loudspeaker.

“She’s all yours, Mr. Kent. I always keep my word. I just don’t know why you wanted me to send her.”

“I have my reasons.” You feel like a fool listening to your boss and Clark talks about your fate as if your life doesn’t mean a thing to them. “She’s going to be so good for me.”

“If you are happy, I’m happy,” Perry, the man you considered a second father, replies. He laughs and tells Clark to have fun.

“One more thing,” Clark sizes you up. He crooks his finger, gesturing to you to step closer. “Burn her place down. Make it look like she died in the fire.”

“Consider it done.”

“No…please…my cat,” you jump into motion, almost pouncing on Clark. “All my memories…my picture album. It’s all I have left of my family. Please.” You kneel in front of Clark, hands running over his long legs. “Please…”

“Hmmm…” He dips his head to watch you cry. “So pretty when you cry.” Clark leans forward to cup your face with one large hand. He wipes away a tear, humming when you close your eyes. “Why should I shelter your place? What will I get in return?”

“What do you want?” You try to sound strong and confident, but your hope just died. Clark was right. Your boss offered you to the monster in front of you on a silver plate.

“You know what I want, papillon,” his features darken when your eyes drop toward his crotch. “You are already on your knees, so…”

“I’ll do it.” You try to forget about the situation you are in, and that you hate the man in front of you. If you can pretend you like going down on him, he will believe you caved in. You can use his demands to your advantage.

“Perry, I changed my mind. I will send someone to grab a few things. I’ll call you later, and you can burn the place down.”

No…no. You had hoped he wouldn’t go that far. Giving in to keep Clark from burning down your place was your last hope. If everyone believes you are dead, no one will come to your rescue.

“I’ll be waiting for your call then, boss,” Clark ends the call and tosses the phone somewhere on the desk.

“Now, you owe me much more than going down on your knees, papillon. I hope that mouth is worth all the trouble.”

“I always wondered what you are hiding underneath,” Clark watches you strip down to your underwear with hungry eyes. He dips his head, and hums. “My men got your cat, the picture album, and personal stuff. We left all of your papers; you won’t need them anymore. You’re mine now.”

You blend the man out, and his threats too. If you must do this to survive the night, you will try to do it your way.

“Thank you, Sir,” you purr as you drop to your knees to crawl toward Clark. “I bet you are tall everywhere. I cannot wait to get my hands on your cock.”

He looks surprised, but groans, nonetheless. “Come here and get what you deserve. You’ll love tasting me.”

Clark is a dangerous opponent, deadly even. But he’s just a man. After he gets off, he will forget about you, and turn his attention toward business. If you play your cards right, you can slip out of the house and look for help.

He squirms in his seat when you run your hands up his long legs again. You take your time, nuzzling his legs, purring, and moaning as you rub yourself on one of his shoes.

"You make me so wet," the lie easily rolls off your tongue. You inch closer, spreading his legs to kneel between them.

“Fuck,” he curses loudly, barely able to hold back. He may have tricked you and had you on your knees, but you studied all of his weaknesses and kinks. You will be damned if you don’t use your knowledge against him. “You’re such a good slut.”

“I know,” You hate yourself for enjoying having the power over this powerful man. He watches you bury your face in his clothed crotch and nuzzle him while you plan to get him arrested.

He pants heavily, and his eyes are dilated when you look up at him from between his legs. Clark runs his hands over his thighs, fingers digging into his muscles. “Go ahead, pretty papillon.”

Men are so predictable. Doctor, garbage man, or mafia boss. The weakness between their legs will always be their downfall.

You will be waiting for your chance to bring him down. Even if you have to do it on your own…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#clark kent #dark!clark kent #mafia au #mobster!clark kent x reader #clark kent x reader #angst #dubcon

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