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#you can see where mr scratch popped up
mxalexwhat · 1 year
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My facial journey while listening to The Nightmare
😌😳😱😰🤐😰👀🫨😰😩😭😣🙃😭👀😖😒🥺🤡😏🥺👀😳😵‍💫🥺👀😠🤨😳😰😐🤨😳😭😢🥺😌👀🤡😏👀😏😐🙃😵‍💫🫨😐😵‍💫🫨😶🤨🥺😔😒😔😞🤔🥺😭🥺😭🥺😔🥺😳👀😒😠🥺😠🥺🤡😠🤨😟😵‍💫🤨👀🤨🥺😔😥😔😐😬😰😥🥺😒😠🤡😒🥺😔😠😒😏🤡😂🤨😰🥺🥹😭🤡😏😥😧😰😬😳😰😵🫨😬😨😳😰☹️🤨😥😍🥰😦😰🤯😰😬😳😟😬🤡😱
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luveline · 2 months
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If you're taking request for Spencer and Bombshell!reader I think it would be so incredibly adorable if they were both on the way to a case (or coming back) and their little baby Amanda was face timing them to say hi to them and the team 🥺🥺
“Video call for you, momma,” Penelope says, plonking a laptop down onto the desk in front of you, and then quickly being called away by Emily for help.
You ditch your pen immediately, nail scratching the laptop trackpad as you slide the cursor to ACCEPT. 
Amanda’s face fills the screen, a shy smile like her dad’s close to the camera, her eyes almost cut off by the top of the screen. 
“Amy, babe, you’re too close to the computer! I can’t see your lovely face.” 
Amy sits back in her chair. “Is this okay?” 
You take her in. You trust your babysitter to take good care of her, but nothing is as reassuring as seeing her unhurt and smiling. “Hi, baby.” 
“Hi mommy,” she greets. “Where’s daddy?” 
“He’s in the bathroom. Be back any minute. Are you being a good girl for Mrs. Gamorrah? How’s your tummy?” 
“I’m being good,” she says, ignoring the important question, “did you see my t-shirt?” She brings her shirt closer to the camera. She’s wearing her favourite pyjamas with the butterflies she had for her birthday, “Look, Mrs. Gamorrah got the soup stain gone.” 
You beam at her. You miss her like crazy when you’re not there. You and Spencer take turns staying home most of the time, and so being apart from her and knowing she doesn’t have Spencer to soften your absence makes it easier to worry about her, and harder to concentrate on the work. 
The door opens. You twist your head. 
Spencer’s drying his hands on a paper towel. “Is that Amy?” 
“Quick, she wants to see you.” 
Spencer hurries to the laptop, bending at the waist to see the screen and his impatient daughter. 
“Amy!” he says, like she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to see, voice enthused with his most dad-appropriate saccharine. “Hi, bunny, hi, hello. I miss you so much, are you okay? I miss you.” 
You tap his leg gently. Calm down. 
“Daddy, I am so happy, and I miss you too! We’re doing pictures.” She holds up a sheet of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Are you okay too?” 
“I’m great now I’m seeing you. I really miss you, sweetheart, I’m sorry we’re both away at work.” 
“It’s okay. Me and Mrs. Gamorrah are gonna have pizza and jiffy pop and soda tonight. It would be good with you, but it’s still fun.” 
“That’s good,” you say, putting your hand on the keys, wishing you could feel her soft arm in your hand, stroke her silken forehead. “We’re gonna be home soon. Maybe even tomorrow.” 
Spencer wraps his arm behind your shoulder. “Me and mom miss you so so much, and we’re so proud of you being a good girl at home. We’re gonna bring you a big present for being by yourself.” 
“I’m not by myself, dad, I have Mrs. Gamorrah. Plus, Uncle Morgan said he wants to take me and Hank swimming on Sunday.” 
“I’m sure we’ll be home before Sunday.” You smother your frown. Spencer kisses your cheek. 
“Give one for me, dad!” 
Spencer kisses you again. “That one good enough?” he asks. 
“Another one!” 
When you get home, you’re gonna spoil the death out of her. Like, worse than you’ve ever spoiled her before. Spencer presses another great kiss to your cheek and smushes your faces together, Amy on the screen reaching for you both for a ghost hug. “I wanted to say hi before we go to the store. Can I call you again before bed?” 
“Yeah, baby, call again!” You rush to answer. “Call daddy’s phone, okay? Mine’s not working right. I’ll answer you, we’ll talk all about your day. Okay? I miss you very much.” 
“I miss you too. Bye bye.” 
“Okay, bye bye,” you say, “I love you.” 
“Love you, Amanda,” Spencer says. 
She waves her little hand until it looks like it might fall off of her wrist. Spencer waves back just as hard.
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mariasont · 2 months
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The Receptionist - S.R
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a/n: i need this man on an astronomical level actually
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x receptionist!bimbo!reader
summary: spencer meets the new receptionist for chief cruz
warnings: fluff
wc: 0.8k
The click-clack of your polished nails on the keys mingled with the sharp pops of bubblegum as you focused on lining up Chief Cruz's appointments in the system. Taking a pause, you pulled out your notebook encased in pink frills from your drawer, and delicately turned its pages to reveal the week's agenda.
With the appointment freshly noted, you let your pen waltz around the margins, leaving behind a trail of doodles. With a subtle shift, you crossed your legs, the shiny pink heels tapping together, their color complementing the delicate fabric of your skirt.
You traced another heart around the date, and just then, a soft voice hesitantly broke the silence, "Excuse me?"
You looked up to find a pair of curious hazel eyes framed by brown curls that almost seemed to be begging to be touched, and his lips, which held a shy smile made your heart do a summersault. I mean, come on, what are these FBI guys made lab-grown or something?
He was draped in a form-fitting vets over a neatly pressed shirt, his sleeves were rolled up just so, in a way that paused your movements freeze and coaxed a heat to spread across your cheeks. Well, hello there.
He seemed briefly caught off-guard, his eyes flickering over your pink-themed workspace, a distinct departure from the former receptionist's subdued setup. He was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things that now occupied the space.
With an enthusiastic bounce, you popped up from your seat, beaming brightly.
"Oh, hi there! How can I help you?" Gently straightening your skirt, you offered a hand, your name rolling off your tongue, "Are you here for Chief Cruz?"
The man's touch was soft against your palm, his attention caught by the soft clinking of your delicate bracelets, while your nails, painted a meticulous shade of pink that matched the color of your shirt, settled against the back of his hand.
"Spencer Reid," he introduced. "I have an appointment with Chief Cruz regarding a specialized training session for new recruits."
His gaze held yours a tad too long, cataloging the details of your appearance--the brightness of your eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the radiant glow of your skin.
A look of pleasant surprise crossed your face.
"You're the famous Dr. Reid! I've heard a lot about you," you remarked, a giggle accompanying your words as you eased back into your seat, giving a quick, knowing glance at your calendar. "Ah, here you are. I'll let Chief Cruz know you're here. He's currently in a meeting, but it shouldn't be too much longer."
As you pretended to focus on the screen, your mind raced. Dr. Reid--the genius with multiple PhDs, and now, the man who stood before you, unexpectedly  drop-dead handsome.
It was a challenge to maintain professionalism, especially when every fiber of your being yearned to do nothing but drink in his appearance. I mean, you were only human.
"Just Spencer is fine," he offered with an easy smile. "Where's Mrs. Henderson?"
You were beautiful to say the least, not at all what he was expecting to see when he walked in this morning, quite the difference from the former receptionist, whose age had been marked by the hard candies she offered.
"Oh, she retired last month!" you said with a bright smile. "So now, Chief Cruz is stuck with me!" Leaning in, chin cradled by your hands, you gaze at him incredulously. "Three PhDs, huh? That's, like, beyond Einstein-level smarts, isn't it?"
Spencer's cheeks tinged with a hint of color as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.
"Well, not quite," he admitted with a modest shrug. He then glanced around the office before his eyes settled back on you. "How are you finding the job here so far?"
"Impressive, yet so modest," you commented. Standing up, you clicked print on the computer. "And it's great, I really love it here. I mean, it's not as thrilling as chasing down bad guys, I'm sure, but I think I'll stick to what I'm good at."
As you made your way to the printer, Spencer interjected. "No, I got it."
He returned with the papers, handing them to you with a gentle smile. 
"Thanks," you said, taking the papers. "So, you do that profiling thing right?" You tapped a finger against your lips, pretending to ponder. "Let's see... I'm guessing you're a Libra, aren't you? Probably born in early October, I'd say."
"What gave it away?"
You flashed a wink, the pop of your bubblegum punctuating the air. "I may have taken a sneak peek at your file."
With a light-hearted laugh, Spencer revealed a smile so grand it seemed to light up the entire space and you couldn't help but smile in response. You liked his smile, a lot. 
Spencer's response was cut short by the ring of the phone. You quickly answered as the great receptionist you are.
"Okie dokie, sir, I'll send him right back!" You listened for a second, then replied with a giggle. "No, thank you, sir!" You turned to Spencer, your smile wide, "He's ready for you!"
"Thanks," Spencer said with a nod, "It was great to meet you." He took a few steps towards Chief Cruz's office before pausing and turning back. "You know, maybe I should give you my number. For work purposes, in case you have questions or need help with anything."
You nodded eagerly, your smile reaching from ear to ear. "Absolutely, for work purposes."
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jinjeriffic · 4 months
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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5
Part 4
After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.
Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.
“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.
Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.
“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.
Jazz gave him an amused look.
“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.
“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.
“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.
“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.
“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.
There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?
“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.
“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”
Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.
“Duly noted.”
“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”
“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”
Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.
“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”
Jazz gave him a wry smile.
“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”
Tim choked. Jason swore.
“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.
“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.
Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.
“What’s ectoplasm?”
“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”
“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.
“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”
Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.
“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”
“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”
Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.
“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.
Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.
“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”
“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”
“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.
“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”
“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.
“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”
Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”
Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.
“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.
“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”
Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.
“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”
“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”
Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.
“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”
She gave him a sad smile.
“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”
Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.
“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.
“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”
Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.
“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”
Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.
“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”
Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.
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Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.
“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”
“Yep.”
“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”
“Sounds like it.”
“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”
Tim groaned.
“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”
“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”
Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.
“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”
Part 6
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jeweldagger · 5 months
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f!reader, choking, tummy bulge, minor breeding (?), dumbification, rough sex. smut under the cut!
eren jaeger. you hated that man with a burning passion, yet he turned out to be your baby daddy.
it all started when you first encountered him, you thought he was just another amnesia patient who was recovering.
but he definitely was not.
“hey, nurse.” his voice was dull, and low as he called out for you. his half-lidded eyes stared up at you, and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was out to kill you.
“yes, mr. kruger?” you say, a patient smile on your face as you turned around to look at him.
to be completely honest, the rest of the evening was a blur for you.
soon, the sun had set and you were already planted in a hospital bed, with ‘mr kruger’ fucking into you, panting like a dog in heat.
each thrust was rough, and hard. he had a bruising grip on your hips, his sharp eyes almost glaring down at you.
schlop! schlop! schlop!
each wet, sloppy thrust emitted a disgusting sound, with your downright pornographic moans being swallowed by eren’s lips, his stubble scratching softly against your chin. he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips before snapping with a quiet, unnoticeable ‘pop!’
“keep quiet for me, yeah?” he grunts, hips snapping into yours with a particularly hard thrust. “wouldn’t- fuuuck, wouldn’t want the other nurses to find out.”
“mhm- yes, mr kruger,” you moan out pathetically, back arching impossibly further off of the cheap hospital bed.
eren sighed, partially from pleasure and partially from annoyance. “it’s eren. call me eren.” he correcting you in a scolding tone, his pace speeding up as he dug his blunt nails further into the flesh of your hips.
one of his hands drifted up your body, landing on your neck. he gave you a slight squeeze, before basically choking you.
“remember my name, it’s eren. repeat it for me, nurse.” he groans, his other hand finding it’s way to your stomach, where he felt the bludge of his cock. “eren jaeger’s the man who- mm, the man who’s fucked you so good you can see me riiight there…”
“y-yeesss,” you mewled, head drooping backwards. your tongue lolled out as your eyes crossed slightly.
you were completely fucked out.
“no, that’s not my name.” he scoffed, his hand raising, before he slapped it down on your cunt.
“eren! eren!” your voice escaped your plump lips as a breathless moan, your hands clutching at the bedsheets in desperation, for what? you wouldn’t know.
“that’s my girl,” eren hummed, leaning down to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips, his hand loosening his grip on your neck. his lips then trail down to your neck. “i’m close, baby.” he whispered against your neck.
“uh-huh!” you squeak in response, fucked too dumb to respond as eren continued to bully his large cock into you. it was amazing, really. the way he could fit himself right into your tiny little hole.
schlop! schlop! schlop!
after a few more rough thrusts, he shot thick ropes of creamy white cum right into you, his large hands grabbing onto your thighs. he almost moaned at the sight of you, so pretty, sprawled out on his hospital bed. he fucked into you for a while more, until his movements slowed down fully.
“mmnnn…” you couldn’t even speak anymore, your body falling limp. eren chuckled at the sight, keeping himself plugged inside you. wouldn’t want any of his cum to spill, now would we?
that’s how you ended up pregnant with eren jaeger’s baby, the same eren jaeger who killed around 80% of the world’s population.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 7 months
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The gojo/m!reader fic is just *chef’s kiss* I fucking love your writing. I know you just posted part 3 and I don’t want to be greedy but can we expect a part 4? 👁️
Lawd, don’t tempt me, nonnie! I have so many headcanons and ideas that I wanted to include but they did not feel relevant to the plot. 😭 Okay - not making any promises! We’ll see how it goes because I have some other fics lined up first! ( ´Д`)y━・~~
Below is the original ending of the fic as a treat! I didn’t write it out originally because I dislike reader-insert endings with a definitive end, I like giving room for the reader to be able to create infinite scenarios with the plot provided (`_´)ゞ
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alternate ending, angst with comfort | not proofread! | wc: 1.5 k
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“You gave him a run for your money, huh? I told him it was a cruel idea.”
Air does not inflate your lungs but you inhale anyway, if only to feel your chest rise and fall. He reaches his hand out, and that onyx gaze makes your vision blurry.
“S���guru...?”
Clasping at your cheeks, you try to grasp the reality before you. Nails scratching at your skin as you cast your gaze downwards to your lap. The familiar colour of deep navy blue causes more tears to fall.
“What?” Those vortex-patterned buttons shimmer under the warm lights and Suguru’s hands invade your vision as he gently circles his fingers around your wrist.
“(Y/N), it’s alright. Everything is alright now.” His voice felt like honey, just like before. He’s not decayed or pale or rotten. Suguru is wearing his uniform - like before. Before the Star Plasma incident, before his betrayal, before his death, before your resentment contorted your memory of him into a grotesque spirit.
“You gave it your all. You can rest now.”
The sight past his shoulders is bright and cloudless. The silver beams that hold the glass together meld up and up and up into the roof. The floors are glistening, with not one footprint or stain and the pops of green from the potted plants and the distant forests beyond the glass make your shoulders droop.
“...Where...”
He squeezes your wrist and stands, you have no choice but to do the same.
When you do, he wraps his arms around you. A tight, comforting, squeeze that makes your arms hang awkwardly out with twitching fingers. Your clothes spill from between his hold and you can feel the fine hairs on his cheeks.
“You had every right to hate me, (Y/N). It wasn’t your fault. I don’t hate you, I swear I don’t.”
Tears stream down your face. They feel so cooling, unlike the usual burning that follows.
“I missed you, (Y/N).”
“Suguru...”
“I missed you too. Suguru.”
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“(Y/N). Where is he?”
Silence befalls the room. His eyes search and pane from every face to every molecule in the air. As terrifying a thought as it is, Satoru’s six eyes hover unseen over his shoulders. Each pupil looks this way or that way. Some have more than one, long downward-facing lashes fluttering as it darts and consumes the sights before it.
They’re hungrier now. Famished from the timeless chamber that was the Prison Realm.
They’re hungry to lay themselves on you.
Drink in your beauty once more. Drown in your presence and weep when you meet their gaze.
You are not here.
The silence is too familiar.
Satoru feels his chest tighten.
“Mr Gojo,” Yuji steps forward and Shoko purses her lips so Satoru steels his expression. Yuji will tell him you are dead, he will tell him how you perished and if Satoru is lucky (which he hasn’t felt lucky in a long time) Yuji will tell him your body was here.
But Yuji says nothing.
He extends his hand after fishing something out of his pocket and Satoru feels a familiar weight in his palm.
It’s your wedding ring.
The other half to his own that he wore.
He thought you’d melted it down. He’d never seen you wear it after that night.
Were you sentimental too?
Satoru recalls the old books your mother had that left holes in his bookshelves - tracks of their departure shredding through the dust like a stampede of hooves. The drawings that were made in crayon and pens and paint by your children, lining the hallways of home or the fridge (”like the Americans do,” you joked). There were even documents you kept, receipts, of things that held no more value.
You were full of memories just like he was.
He stared at the ring. Delicate, detailed and forlorn without its user.
“He told me he had a plan,” Yuji’s fist shake as he speaks.
“Mr (Y/N) said he’d be alright. He told me to trust him and that everything would be okay. He just told me to get as many comrades out of the area so I did. He - He slipped the ring in my pocket and I didn’t notice.”
You’d been revealed by Sukuna, grasped by the back of your head like a toy. You were decorated like one. Those heavy, patterned, robes and styled hair and painted face. Even with pain contorting your expression you looked as pretty as a doll.
“Lovely sight, isn’t it, my concubine?” Sukuna croons. “You’ve made such an array of allies in my absence. Uruame tells me you’ve even mauled your father, how terrifying.”
Uruame, that bastard. The girl - no. The person that’d been bowing and showing you that horrid swirl pattern on their head - they’d been keeping an eye on you. Ever since you were a child, they’d kept track. To prepare you for Sukuna? Or just to make sure their master's return was celebrated with a feast to please his every desire?
His grip tightens and your yell makes Yuji’s anger simmer under his skin.
‘ I’ll leave the rest to you. ‘ Nanami had told him.
“Sukuna,” he growls out.
The King of Curses, with those lovely eyes Yuji cherished so dearly, smiled like a mad man.
“Oi, brat. Shall I show you how deeper into despair I can take you?”
“Sukuna told Mr (Y/N) to kill us or he’d do it himself. Neither of us expected him to,” Yuji trails off, his nails digging crescent moon shapes into his palms. It’s Yuta who finishes the sentence for him;
“He used Divine Flame to its greatest height. As a way to stop Sukuna from chasing after us and as a way to weaken him.”
“...He had sacrificed himself, is that what you’re saying?” Satoru watches Yuta nod and as Yuji sullenly does the same, Choso comes to his side.
“His flames are still burning. They’re fading but, he did weaken Sukuna considerably,” Shoko says. Satoru knows she’s just taking her time to tell him there is no corpse to be buried. You were gone in the wind and once the remnants of your cursed energy faded there’d be nothing left of you but memories and things; they’d collect dust and grief but none would satisfy Satoru.
He doesn’t mind the way they look at him as he unclasps the silver necklace around his neck to slip your ring. It joins Suguru’s button and he finds himself unable to curse the Gods.
Instead, Satoru closes his eyes to pray.
‘ Watch over me, ‘ he pleads.
It lasts no more than a second. His eyes open but they find themselves searching for hair that shines like vinyl and (E/C) coloured eyes that make heaven weep despite what he’s learned.
The best thing he can hope to do now is free Megumi and Tsumiki of their ailments. Then, then...he’ll bury them.
He’ll bury his family.
“Nanami. Is there a body?”
The furrowing of Yuji’s brows make Satoru’s cheek twitch.
“We’ll bury their things then. Side by side.”
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There’s a familiar presence next to him. His scent wafted up Satoru’s nose in a way that made his eyes water. He knows him by the way he breathes, the way he walks, the sound of his hair being tied into a bun.
Suguru is beside him.
He doesn’t know how it’s possible that they’re together once again but a quick glance around and he’s quick to figure it out.
Ah.
He wanted to win so badly.
They talk. They talk like nothing has happened. As if the years were mere footnotes in their story like friends reuniting again after some distance.
Behind him, Yū and Kento are sat. They tease and jest. He yells at Principal Yaga about dying with regret, he sees Riko and Misato talking to each other in their own corner of rhe world.
Kento huffs, Kento smiles.
“If you stop flitting your eyes so wildly you’ll find him, Gojo.” Suguru and Yū chuckle at Satoru’s expression. Kento twists his upper half and points to the windows.
“That woman...” Satoru’s eyes widen.
It’s unmistakably your mother. Her hair, her skin, her posture - youthful and healthy. He sees tiny hands clutching to her shoulder, a head of (H/C) peeking from over it and then your eyes blinking sheepishly up at her.
You’re in your mother's arms, a boy once again as she cradles you close to her.
When your eyes meet him, he sees the bashful way they avert themselves and your mother chuckles as she smooths out your hair. Kento hums and Yū tells him to stand, so Kento does.
Your mother’s smile is as warm as it's always been. Puts the damn sun to shame, really. She presses a kiss to your head then sets you down and with inward facing steps, you walk towards Kento.
With each step, you grow and grow and Satoru thinks of how nice it was that you’re spending your youth with Kento for an eternity now.
Because as you stand in front of Kento in your school uniform, with the bright smile you had in those old photographs, he feels his heart soar. The rings clink softly against each other as he leans back and wraps an arm around Suguru’s shoulder.
Your arms wrap around Kento’s neck and he wraps them around your waist.
“I hope you did not wait long, Ken.” He squeezes you tightly and sighs, “I would wait an eternity for you, my love.”
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camryn-haitani · 1 month
Text
𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙔, 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙔, 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙔
Sugar daddy! Kokonoi Hajime x reader
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inspired by: "money, money, money" by ABBA
Koko is bored with nothing to do, until he saw you. you were working at the bar bonten owned and he overheard you talking about your money issues. he's got money to throw around, so what the hell, why not?
TW: SMUT, cursing, sugar daddy Koko, p in v sex, unprotected sex, teasing, daddy calling, fingering (fem receiving), praising, pet names, marijuana use, gun, mentions of murder
Koko walks around the penthouse he bought for all of the bonten executives, bored out of his goddamn mind. he grabs his keys to one of his many cars.
"the hell you going?" takeomi asks as his head leans off the couch, cigarette hanging from his lips.
"out and away from y'all." he slams the door.
the drive there was only getting on Koko's nerves even more. dumbasses not using their blinker, cutting him off, you get the jist.
he parks his car and throws the keys at the valet.
he takes out his gun and points it at him secretly, "get any scratch on my car, and that's how many bullets I put in you." he says lowly.
"yes, sir!" he nods. Koko walks in and sits at the bar and waits.
you see him sitting at the bar and you start panicking.
‘shit! that's Kokonoi Hajime. calm down y/n, don't piss him off, he already looks mad.’ the thoughts ran through your head.
“hello Mr. Kokonoi, is there anything I can get you?” you sweetly say. your whole body is on fire, scared he might kill you where you stand.
“whiskey.”
“yes sir.” you turn to make his drink.
“here you are. one whiskey.” you set his drink down and you hear your phone start to ring.
“I'm sorry, I'll be right back.” you go to the back so you at least have a little bit of privacy.
“hello?”
“y-yes, sir.”
“you know exactly who this is, y/n. don't act stupid”
“please I just need a little more time. my landlord raised my rent.”
“well?! where's my fuckin money?”
the dial tone rang through your ears. you never noticed the tears streaming down your skin till you look at the black screen of your phone. you fix your face and wipe away your salty tears. you walk back to the bar and see he's finished his drink.
“I don't give two fucks. you better have my money by the end of the week or you're as good as dead.”
“would you like another drink, Mr. Kokonoi?”
he said nothing. just stared at you, memorizing your features. he gets up from his seat and leans over the bar, inches from your face and your nose almost touching his.
“sir? may I help you.” you don't pull away, scared shitless.
“how much do I owe you?” he calmly asks.
“nothing, sir. I would never make you pay in your own establishment.” you say breathlessly.
“that's not what I asked. how much do I owe you?” emphasis on each word.
“$8, sir”
“how about $8,000?” he slides his rolled up bills to you.
“I can't possibly accept this. like I said, I won't make you pay in your own place.” your hands in a surrender position by your chest.
“come on, sweetheart. be a doll and take it.” he puts the bills in your hand. “and call me Kokonoi, I have a feeling I'll be back soon.” he backs away and leaves.
those names went straight to your core. you swallow the lump in your throat as you pack up from your shift that just ended.
Koko could not get you off of his mind, especially the phone call he overheard. he has a unknown dying need to help you, but how?
that's it. he's got money to throw around and he doesn't have anything to pay anyone. he decided to visit you again tomorrow.
Koko left at the same time as last night but Sanzu was on the couch instead.
next day
“where ya goin, Koko?” he asks as he pops a pill in his mouth.
“bar.” was all he said before walking out.
“well, damn. bye.” he waves his hand.
thank the gods you were working again tonight. he turns off his car and tossed the keys at the valet like yesterday. the valet boy nods already knowing the consequences and parks his car.
Koko say in the same spot and waited for you.
“oh hello, Mr. Kokonoi. same as yesterday?” you ask while drying a clean glass.
“no, I'm less stressed than I was yesterday. I'll get a cosmopolitan.”
“you got it, sir.”
“I told you to call me Kokonoi.” he says teasingly.
“I'm sorry, it feels weird calling my boss's name so casually.” you slide the glass to him.
he sips on his drink and rests his chin on his palm. “y/n, was it?”
“yes, sir.” you put up another glass.
“not to eavesdrop but I overheard your lil phone call.” he stirs his drink.
“i- I'm sorry, sir. I got into some trouble with money and I turned to loan sharks which was a horrible idea.” you try and defend yourself.
“mhm.”
“a-and I'm trying to pick up extra shifts a-and..”
“I have a deal for you.” he looks up at you.
“sir with all due respect, a deal is how I got into this situation.” you try and lighten up.
“that's why I'm proposing this deal, y/n. I give you all the money, gifts, and anything your heart desires.” he pauses. he leans over the bar like last time and gets inches away from you. “in return, you give me yourself. your body, your heart, your everything.”
“so…” you lightly laugh, “you'll be my sugar daddy?” you awkwardly smile.
“you could say that. so?” Koko asks.
you look at his eyes, then his lips. his eyeliner so perfectly done, his hair resembles fresh fallen snow, his bonten tattoo place strategically in the lines of his hair. you look back into his eyes to give him your answer.
“deal.” you nod. he closed that gap between you two to give you a quick kiss.
“I'll have my men come here and get you, along with your things.” he turns to leave.
you stand there wondering what the fuck just happened.
since you worked the night shift, you slept practically all day. you picked up an extra shift that started in about an hour in a half. you get up and put on your work clothes and start walking to your job.
as soon as you clock in, two big ass men came up to the bar.
“are you y/n l/n?” the one on the right asks.
“yes sir.” you say.
‘this must be the loan sharks guys.’ I sigh as I accept my fate.
“come with us.” they turn around and you see at least two guns strapped to their backs. you pack your things and follow them out.
they bring you to their car and don't say a single word to you.
when you reach their destination, they open your door for you. you're wondering as to why they would do that when your about to be killed. they lead you inside and take you to the elevator.
once you reach the floor, you follow the men. one of the guys gave 3 knocks an office door.
“come in.” was heard from behind the door.
you walk in, “oh, Mr. Kokonoi.” you let out a breath you were unknowingly holding.
“you seemed relieved to see me.” he chuckles.
“I'm not gonna lie, I thought the men were sent by the loan shark to come kill me.” you laugh to try and relieve some of the tension.
“no, my dear. quite the opposite. I do have something for you to sign, though.” he slides a piece of paper to you. “what is it .” you ask.
you can only nod as your hand trembles to grab a pen. he picks his blunt back up and puts it to his lips, inhaling the contents. he waits for you to sign your name as he blows the smoke in your face.
“just a little contract. you know, to ensure that you're mine and only mine.” his eyes grew dark.
you put the pen down and look at him. he sees your signature and smiles. Koko gestures his hand to you, signaling for you to come here. you get up from the chair and walk over to him. he grabs your wrists and pulls you down in his lap.
“I'm gonna have so much fun with you, doll. you have no idea.” he whispers in your neck. your breath hitches as his lips are attached to your neck. you tilt your head up to give him more room.
his hands roam to your ass, hands never leaving your body. the red in his eyes and his pupils are addicting to look at, especially in this light. Kokonoi brings one of his hands back to your front and down to your pants. he skillfully unbuttons your jeans with one hand and unzips them.
“aww, is my baby already wet for me?” he asks as his two middle fingers graze the bottom of your panties. you can only nod at his words, your mind still in shock that this is actually happening. he slips his fingers in with such ease that he laughs at you. you whine at him as the feeling overtakes your body.
his fingers move at such a fast pace, your mind can't keep up. next thing you know, you're cumming all over his fingers.
“such a good girl for me, for daddy, right?” his tongue wrapped around his cum covered fingers, waiting for your response. “mhm such a good girl for you, daddy.” he swears he can cum just from you calling him that.
his thumb lazily circles your clit as he watches you twist and contort above him. “you're gonna have to earn your next orgasm, mkay?” strings of “yes”’s spill from your pretty lips. “sit still and sound pretty for me. I hope you can do that.” he tease. “I can, I can. mhm.”
Kokonoi kisses down your neck, chest, and anywhere he can get his lips on all while he slowly plays with your clit. “I think you deserve a reward since you were such a good girl for me.” he goes back to you neck. “but, you have to get my cock out for me, pretty thing.” only nods came from you as you slightly pick yourself up to free his aching cock.
your eyes look down at him. “don't worry, baby. I'll help you, I know it's a lot for a small thing like you.” Koko teases your nipples through your shirt. you swallow hard and nod, setting yourself back down and letting his tip hit your hole.
his head tilts back as he feels your juices slide down his length. Kokonoi rubs your clit as you sink down onto him. he praises you the entire time until your reach his hips. your legs are trembling from him, so he picks you up and lays you on his desk. “how's that, princess?” “better.”
he slowly slides in and out until the pain turns into pleasure for you. you grip onto his pearly white hair and bring him in for a sloppy kiss, hoping to distract you from his impressive length.
your whines get higher with every push he does. Koko knows you're getting close so he speeds up his movement. he's hitting your sweet spot every fuckin time he snaps his hips into you.
“I know you're close, darling, let it all out for me.” he coos. tears prick your eyes as you ride both of your highs.
your breathing gets stable and Koko gave you some extra clothes to change into while his men get your clothes from your place.
“what's the name of that loan shark you got money from?” “uhm, (random ass name). why?” you ask.
“so I can kill him for threatening my baby.”
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callsign-marlie · 2 years
Text
Hey Pretty Girl
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The Five Times Jake calls you his favorite pet name + one bonus little baby taste of angst :3
pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader genre: FLUFF warnings: unedited, light teasing and innuendos, mention of pregnancy and child birth, no y/n used a/n this is total fluff and it was just what I needed. very short in comparison to my normal things but i almost wanna do all of the young pilots with this prompt and a different quote each time, it was so wholesome ;^;
Please feel free to like, comment and reblog. Much appreciated and much love - marlie x
---
The First
“Hey pretty girl, slide me a bud, will ya?”
Blonde hair and blue eyes, a coy smile. Tanned skin pinched with a glaze sunned pink at the top of his cheeks and a clean pressed khaki uniform. The cap popped off of the glass with a fizz before you slid the bottle to him. “$5.50 for the boy in brown.”
“The boy,” he scoffed. Thick fingers gripped around the neck of the brew to coat his nails in condensation. The amber liquid swirled the enclosure of glass as he placed the rim to his lips. His eyes never left yours. “Not a boy. A man, darlin’. More of a man than any one you’ve had before tonight, I can assure you that.”
“And who said I wanted you, fly boy?” Your elbows were on the bar, leaning over the mahogany top. Even with the challenge of cleavage at your disposal, he never broke away from your gaze.
“Your eyes say enough. See ya soon, gorgeous.” He scribbled his name on the merchant copy of his receipt. A wink, the shine of a grin, and away he turned. 
You grabbed at the soggy slip of paper to find chicken scratch handwriting with ‘Jake’ and a phone number written on the bottom. Jake, huh?
The Second
“Hey pretty girl, that spot’s perfect. Just like me, right?”
He had bought you a bundle of sunflowers on a whim. They were gorgeous and tall, standing bright against the navy of your entry way in the antique crystal vase your mom had given you. Jake had cleaned up nicely in a crisp button down and slacks for your date to the local brewery down on the coast and had bought the bouquet for you on the ride home from a local farm stand. “Now you can think of me every time you leave the house and smile to start your day.”
You rolled your eyes, an endeared grin on your face. “You’re an ass, Seresin.”
“Maybe, but I’m your ass and that makes me the best ass around,” he chimed, jokingly hitting the back of his rump. “And this ass ain’t leavin’ for quite some time doll.”
“Then tell me, baby, what happens if the flowers die? How would I ever remember you then?” You lovingly wrap your arms around the top of his shoulders, careening up on your tiptoes to touch his nose with yours. 
His fingertips brushed a strand of hair that roguishly fell into your eyes. His eyes were the color of sea grass and his gaze was softly focused on your lips.  “Guess we’re just gonna have to go on more dates so I can get you more, right?”
The Third
“Hey pretty girl, may I have this dance?”
The reception was over and your feet were on fire, but you were finally home in your little shared apartment on base. Your hand, now coveted by a new diamond wedding band, sparkled under the high hat lights as Jake helped you up from the couch to the smooth sounds of John Mayer echoing in the background. Your white gown sweeped against the floor as he pulled you to his chest. 
Jake, your perfectly perfect Jake, dropped a soft kiss to your forehead, to the tip of your nose, to your lips. “Mrs. Seresin,” he whispered at each pass of his lips. You let your bare feet stand atop his, still encased in his military issued loafers and let his strong legs take you on a slow rock in your living room. It was the first time today that the two of you had been just alone: where the room wasn’t vibrating with clinking glasses or loud party music. 
Jake swayed with you gently even as the song changed, his hands dropped to your waist to rest on the crest of your bejeweled bum. You raised an eyebrow at your cheeky husband, who simply rolled his eyes and gave a boyish grin. “Just let me enjoy this baby.”
The Fourth
“Hey pretty girl, lemme help you, hold on.”
Jake’s large hands snuck underneath your rounded belly, lifting just enough weight to let your spine relax under the constant pressure of pregnancy. The dishes you were washing were suddenly forgotten and slipped from your fingers. A blissful sigh. “Ohhh, that’s the stuff, don’t stop.”
“Damn, all of my talent in bed and I’ve never heard you sound like THAT before,” he huffed, slowly letting your belly back down. “All I had to do was lift up peanut here and you’re putty, huh?” 
You pouted at the returning strain and snatched his hands back to place. You tilted your head to the side to leave a kiss and a teasing nip on his bicep. His fingers tickled over your skin in amusement.
“Uh-uh, don’t even think about it, Seresin. You stay right there.”
The Fifth
“Hey pretty girl, I’m your daddy.”
Tears were welling up in his eyes while he held the small pink bundle in his arms. She was so sleepy after making her grand entrance, kicking and yelling the entire birth. “Oh my god, I’m your daddy!”
“She looks just like you.” You were laying in your bed, completely spent, but glowing after all of your hard work pushing your new little love into the world. “You’re gonna be a great daddy, Jake.”
“And you’re gonna be a great mommy, honey girl.” He carefully made his way over to the bed and sat on the side to let your little girl close. Her eyes were closed and soft little breaths were leaving her mouth. Jake leaned over to plant a chaste kiss into your hair, your nose, your lips. He lingered longer than normal, touching his forehead to yours. 
“My pretty girls. All mine, all mine, until the day I die. I’ll never want nothing more than this.” 
Bonus: The Sixth
“Hey pretty girl, I’m alright.”
You launched yourself at your husband, tears streaming down your face. He winced under your arms, but did his best to wrap himself around you through all of the wires tubing he was attached to. Safe. His smooth hands rubbed up and down your back as you sobbed into his shoulder, leaving light taps on his back. “Don’t. You. EVER. Do. That. Again.”
“What, eject? It’s either that or die, and I’m too good to die while I’m still so young and handsome. You don’t want me to leave you a widow so soon, do you?” His megawatt smile showed reassurance, but you weren’t so sure it was real. You knew Jake better than he knew himself. His eyes, blackened from his impact, held something behind them that wasn’t there before: a fear. His façade was cracking at your worry.
“You won’t lose me, pretty girl. I’ll be here. I’m not leaving.”
“Promise me?” Your eyes just wouldn’t stop tearing up. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” His fingers made an ‘x’ over his heart. “And I really, really don’t wanna die. I have my whole life with you to look forward to.”
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lightwing-s · 5 months
Text
𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒
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pairing: wally west x gn! reader
requested: yes summary: when sending a picture goes wrong, the last thing you expect is your coworker at you doorstep looking for cuddles
word count: 1,4k warnings: other than swearing, none
a/n: i unlearned how to write short blurbs today and everything is turning into an imagine. also, two posts in a day. don't get used to it.
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡
⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟
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Being single during winter sucks, because you want to get warm cuddling somebody but you don’t have anyone to cuddle with and you end up cuddling your cat. So, there you were now, laid on your sofa, the snow falling down on your window, and many scratches in your arms because your cat didn’t want to cuddle you after all.
Fuck being single. 
Bored out of your ass with the movie you got on tv, you picked up your phone and took a picture of you on the sofa, all covered in blankets, and an evil cat on your feet. Pressing the share button, you looked for your best friend’s contant when a notification popped on your phone but you bluntly ignored it and sent the picture to your friend with a message “no one to cuddle, not even Mr McFluffler”.
However, you didn’t send it to your friend. You sent it on your work group chat. 
In one of your dumbest moves, you mixed the chats together and sent it by mistake to all of your work mates. The notification, a message from your colleague Wally, had propped the group chat further up on your chats list and you clicked on it accidentally. 
You sent them a picture of you, on your pajamas, crying because you were fucking single. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuuuck.
Luckily, you had fast fingers, deleting the picture faster than the Flash could make it to England. 
No one saw it, Yn. Relax. You were fast, faster than the Flash. Nobody noticed. And if they did, so what, it was just a silly picture. It could be worse, you could’ve sent them nudes. You tried calming yourself up, trying to assure yourself everything was going to be fine, and like clockwork, your superior answered Wally’s message as if yours was never sent.
A couple minutes had passed and you’d already sent a message to your friend, you two laughing over the whole situation, when you heard your doorbell ring. Weird, you hadn’t ordered food nor were you waiting for any visitors.
Jumping up from the sofa, you ran to the window, looking to see who the hell was knocking at your door at this hour, on this day, and in this godforsaken weather.
“Wally?” you asked, rushing to your door. “What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?”
It didn’t make sense. You’d barely speak at work, exchanging a few words every day, but that was it. Wally was fun, joked with everybody and never made you feel uncomfortable, you just weren’t close. 
He did, indeed, make you a feel a bit nervous though, but that was silly, a silly little work crush that would never go anywhere because he he made you so nervous you were never being able to come up with a good comeback to keep the conversation going, usually just smiling like a dumbass and avoiding him for the rest of the day.
Yay!
“I tracked your phone.” he simply stated, as if it was nothing. Brushing you off, he took off his winter jacket and walked past you inside your home, your eyes wide open and questioning his entire demeanor. “You want a cuddle right?”
What?!
“What?!” you nearly screamed, feeling the burn growing on your cheeks, almost running back inside and hiding away in your bedroom.
“You sent a picture, sugar.” he explained nonchalantly. “You wanted to cuddle, because your cat wouldn’t?”
This can be real, you thought, just can’t be. “It was a mistake, I was supposed to send it to my friend and we were just joking.” you tried to explain, the words jumping out of your mouth before you really could process them, too overwhelmed by the sudden situation you found yourself in.
“So you don’t wanna cuddle?” he asked, stopping in his tracks, almost at your living room.
“I-I mean, I would like to cuddle, it’s just…”
“So let’s cuddle then.” he said, disappearing into your house and leaving you frozen at the door. You didn’t understand what made him come all the way to your house, and how fast he had done it. Why would he do that? Why? It was just, so confusing. It didn’t make sense. Your mind was doing turns and turns trying to think, trying to react, trying to process everything that was happening. “You really gonna stay outside in the cold?”
His scream broke you from your thoughts and you closed the door behind you as you headed to the living room to meet him. There, to your surprise once again, Wally had his long ass legs covered with one of the blankets, your cat, that treacherous bitch,  purring on his lap as he caressed his orange fur, an unexpected match with his hair, with one of his hands while the other rested over the couch.
“I’m really confused.” you said, eyebrows crushed together. “Why are you here, West?”
“You ask too many questions, you know that?” he said, completely entertained by the cat on his lap. “You sent a picture complaining you didn’t have anyone to cuddle with. It’s cold, I also don’t have anyone to cuddle with, so I’m offering myself to fulfill your needs. And mine.”
“We’re not even friends…”
“Yn… We’re just gonna cuddle. Or are you thinking of something els…”
“No!”
“Then come here.” he grabbed you by the arm and onto the sofa, slamming against his chest as you fell down with him. He covered you with the same blanket he had over his legs and pulled you close, too uncomfortably close, and put his arm over your shoulder.
You had to be honest, you felt very comfortable cuddling Wally West, his warmth emanating from his body and embracing yours, making it all just… perfect. You dared to put your hand over his waist, but your cat bit it before you could do so.
Son of a bitch, you told him mentally. Wally’s chuckle stole your attention away, though, as he petted the devil, er, the animal that stretched on his lap. “You can hug me now, Yn. He won’t bother you anymore.”
Blushing, you were reluctant to do so, but Wally’s hand pulled yours to wrap them around his torso. “See, this is fine.”
You rested your head on his shoulder as you felt the hours passing, his own head resting atop yours. You watched two or three movies, cozied up to each other in what was a position you could get more and more used to.
It was then that a loud rumble had you lifting from your position and facing your coworker. “Are you hungry?” you asked, smiling at the awkwardly funny face he was making.
“Can we order pizza?” he asked back, and as you nodded, he stood up from the sofa, typing in a phone number faster than humanly possible and placing his phone on his ear.
“I never asked, but,” you started, following him into your kitchen. “How did you get here so fast?”
Wally’s eyes grew wide as he tried to avoid looking at you, the words missing from his mind as he tried to find an excuse. “I was close by.”
“Oh!” you simply replied.
Fuck it, Wally, he thought. Could’ve been a bit more subtle.
“I was walking by, you know. Just looking for something to do when I saw your message and like, thought it was a great opportunity I couldn’t let pass.”
“An opportunity to cuddle?” you asked shyly.
“To cuddle you, why would I pass on it?” His words made you blush redder than a tomato, looking down at your nails to avoid his eyes. “It was really a great opportunity.”
“Was it worth taking?” you asked again, looking at him innocently.
“Totally.” he stated. “You?”
“Totally.”
You listened as the pizza place finally answered the call and he ordered four (!!!) pizzas for the two of you. Fast metabolism, he mouthed and you laughed. “C’mon, let’s go back to cuddling”
Pulling you by the hand, he jumped on the sofa again, this time laying on it and leaving enough space to have you by his side.
“Don’t you think you’re getting too comfortable?” you joked.
“You make me comfortable, Yn. You should get used to it.”
“Used to it?” you questioned, pulling you to lay down on the sofa with him.
“Yeah, used to it.” he repeated. 
Lying down now, you fixed your head placement on his shoulder, a perfect fit once more. A hand placed on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through your palm, you felt his arm pushing you closer till your forehead met his lips.
“If you’re interested, we could do this more often.” he suggested.
“Yeah, I’d be interested.” you said, not hiding the smile spreading on your lips.
“And we could, you know, go out on a date somewhere.”
“Yeah, I’d be interested in that too.”
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tiyoin · 3 months
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Tbh if Trey was Yan for me, it wouldn't take much. When he's not Yan, Trey's my "I'm Ace but if he asked me to birth his kids I'd have to really think about it" character. I know he's sus...but if he was Yan I simply wouldn't even notice. Yeah, he's not normal, but Dot is silly, and would be like "huh it's weird that I pass out every time I eat one of Trey's strawberry tarts, must be allergic to strawberries" then he'd be like, "You must be right darling" and then stop serving me strawberry dishes.
I'm weak to my baker boy 😭 he would not have to try hard with me.
(for your readers who missed your initial Yan vice dorm Leaders post, this isn't just me simping over Trey Clover okay so shut up 😭)
oOooOoo dotty’s got a crush 🤭🤭
*the whole class ‘OoOo’s’ and points*
but seriously, yandere trey would be SO discreet. like you wouldn’t even be able to tell if he’s yandere or just some silly little baker boy who likes making you things 🤭
yandere trey just comes with the added bonus of daily naps! and stomach aches 😖 but dw! trey is right there with a soothing cup of tea!
the having kids with trey thing immediately stuck out to me like a sore thumb cause:
imagine a family with trey though??? IMAGINE THE DOMESTIC LIFE WITH TREY THOUGH???
living the dream of owning a bakery with your highschool sweetheart ☺️ maybe you have kids. maybe you have fur babies! all you know is that you’re living the life with your husband
though i definitely see trey as a family man, but if it’s yan! trey we’re talking about then i can imagine him playing a bit… dirty to get that large dream family he’s always wanted
maybe he pops holes in the condoms? or maybe he gives you one too many sweets! but you’re hot n bothered and about to pounce on him!!
but also, thinking about trey with an ace! reader.
i can definitely imagine a record scratch going on up there. even if it’s yan trey i still imagine him taking ace! reader’s / your emotions into consideration.
there’s gonna be a lot of subtle hinting towards family stuff. like when he makes you work the register everytime your regulars- usually families with small children, come in. or when he subtly puts his hands on your stomach whenever he hugs you from behind. OR! OR!! when you’re both walking your dog, a stereotypical family dog like a bernes mountain dog or a golden retriever; he’s gonna sometimes stop in front of store fronts and stare at the family if mannequins.
and it’ll just- it’ll just pull on your heart strings sooo much you start to seriously debate it.
i mean, what’s one child right? it’s not too big of a deal, right? i mean normally it would be, but you have trey! but also… the process :/ icky!!!!!
if you end up giving in, the gods are gonna bless mr. patient-as-a-saint trey clover with twins. and it’ll only spiral.
but at night raven, you wouldn’t even realize trey is monopolizing your time. like, you joined the science club because you were bad at potions! and it helps that you have a friendly face in case you’re nervous!
oh boy you look so skinny!! trey’s horrified! why don’t you join him and riddle, his closet friend for tea? he thinks you guys would get alone well!
need a lab partner? you’re both already in the same club so you’ll be able to do the project in the club! look how smart you are!!
you’re tired?? you can stay over with ace and deuce tonight at heartslabyul. don’t worry riddle approves since they both know you wouldn’t do anything to harm the first years rule following. but let trey bring you to his bathroom! you don’t wanna be in a bathroom brushing your teeth with a bunch of hooligans do you? trey didn’t think so. so don’t be shy when you’re following him around like a puppy, or do! it’s adorable and trey’s trying not to melt.
just,,,, HHHHH trey subtly trying to thread yourself into his life to the point you both have a routine together. to the point where it looks like you’re dating, but don’t worry!! he only sees you as a friend…
so ignore the ghost hands on the small of your back, so ignore how during a lunch rush he’ll press up against you- to shield you ofc! ignore how he always seems to intrude on your space when you’re sitting together. definitely ignore the secret touches you exchange when passing each other things.
or don’t!! cause trey would be putting in allll that hardddd work for nothing 🥺
…dot you’ve ruined me.
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earthtoharlow · 1 month
Text
Teach Me: First Comes Love…
Series Masterlist
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Urban took photos as he watched Jack work and nodded his head to whatever beat he was playing in his head but he couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his pocket.
With a knowing grin, he nudged Jack and raised an eyebrow. “So, buddy, when are you gonna pop the question?”
Jack sighed, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been trying, Urb. But every time I muster up the courage, something goes wrong, and the moment is ruined.”
Urban chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You? Mr. Cool and Collected? I find that hard to believe!”
Jack rolled his eyes playfully, and thought about all the times he tried to propose to Ariel.
Jack had a meeting in New York and since it was spring break they decided to turn it into a weekend trip. Jayla was a couple feet in front of them as they strolled through Central Park. His heart was pounding in his chest as he reached in his pocket to make sure the velvet box that seemed to be glued to his pocket was still there.
“Ariel, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
But just as he was about to pop the question, a small brown puppy ran towards Jayla, startling Ariel. “Did you see that?!” she exclaimed, completely oblivious to Jack’s intentions. She skipped over to Jayla who was now playing with the dog in the grass.
Not being a big fan of dogs, Jack signed and he tucked the ring back into his pocket, saving it for another time.
Ariel gasped in delight, bending down to pet the adorable pup. “Oh my goodness, look at this little baby!”
“She’s so cute! I wonder where she came from.” Jayla laughed as the puppy licked her face. “Can we keep her, Mom? Please?”
Ariel knew how Jack felt about dogs or pets in general but the way the puppy cuddled closer to them, eyes wide and hopeful she couldn’t leave them there sad and alone at the park.
When she looked up at Jack, all he could do was sigh and give a slight nod. He would never hear the end of it if he said no.
“I think we just found our newest family member,” Ariel said with a smile.
“Oh so that’s how you guys found Princess Lou Lou!” Urban remarked as Jack finished the story and right on que, Lou Lou scratched at Jack’s legs wanting to be picked up.
Jack reached down and grabbed her, giving her a kiss in the head. “Yes, she’s been a cock blocker since day one!”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring once more. “Just last week I tried to ask her during date night and the waitress interrupted us.”
Urban laughed a little. “Only you, man. But hey, third time’s the charm, right?”!
Despite his frustration, Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at the craziness of it all. “Let’s hope so, Urb. Let’s hope so.”
***
Later that night as Jack laid beside Ariel in bed, the bedside lamp casted a warm light over her face. Jack couldn’t help but marvel over her beauty. She looked so beautiful, just as she did the day they met. Ariel laid there with no makeup on, her dorky reading glasses perched on her nose as she skimmed through the pages of the book.
Jack reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “You look beautiful, Ariel,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Ariel looked up from her book, a smile spreading across her face at her words. “Really?” She asked, Jack’s words never failed to make her face warm.
He nodded, his heart swelling with love. “Absolutely. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, especially with those dorky reading glasses.”
Ariel laughed and grabbed the extra pillow of the bed and swatted him with it, Jack dodged out the way just in time.
“Well, thank you, I think,” she teased, playfully nudging him with her elbow, and picked up her book again to finish reading.
Jack continued to stare as she read and he realized just how lucky he was that she came into his and Jayla’s life. Despite the ring being hidden in the sock drawer, he could still feel its presence in his thoughts.
Ariel was his soulmate, his partner in life, his one true love and he couldn’t wait any longer to ask her to be his wife.
Without a formal plan or the ring in hand, Jack blurted out the words that had been weighing on his heart for months. “Ariel, I love you. Will you marry me?”
Ariel froze in place, eyes widened as she looked up from her book and towards Jack. “Jack, are you being serious?”
He nodded nervously, unable to tear his gaze away from her. “Completely serious. I’ve been carrying this ring around for months, waiting for the perfect moment. But tonight, right now, with you looking at me like that… This is the perfect moment.”
Tears welled up in Ariel’s eyes before she tossed her book aside and threw her arms around Jack nodding vigorously. “Yes yes yes! I’ll marry you!!”
Jack couldn’t contain his happiness, and held her as if he never wanted to let go. He pulled back slightly cupping Ariel’s face in his hands, and gazed into her eyes, his heart bursting with love.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and passion. “I love you more than words can express, Ariel. You mean everything to me. You’ve changed my life.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, savoring the moment.
***
Ariel stirred awake, and felt a weight on her hand. When she opened her eyes she gasped at the beautiful ring, Jack must’ve slipped it on in the middle of the night.
Unable to contain her excitement, she gently shook Jack awake. “Jack.” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, “I still can’t believe it. This ring is gorgeous!”
Jack blinked sleepily, a smile spreading across his face as he realized what she was talking about. “Believe it, Ariel. You’re going to be my wife.”
A surge of happiness washed over Ariel as she leaned in to kiss him. “I don’t want a huge wedding, Jack. I just want to be married to you already.”
His eyes sparkled with excitement as he sat up, his mind racing with possibilities. “Well, why wait? Should we get dressed and wake Jayla up and head to the courthouse today?”
Ariel’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, eyes lighting up immediately. “Yes, let’s do it!”
They both leaped out of bed, the room buzzing with excitement. Just as Ariel was about to step into the bathroom, Jack stopped her from the bedroom door.
He turned to her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Should we call Urban?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Ariel’s heart swelled with love for him, knowing how much his best friend meant to him. Despite their decision to just go to the courthouse, she understood that Jack would regret not having Urban by his side on such an important day.
With a gentle smile, she nodded. “Of course, we should. It wouldn’t be the same without him.”
Jack’s face lit up with gratitude as he reached for his phone, dialing his number with eager anticipation. After a few rings, Urban answered, his voice filled with excitement.
“Urban, I need you to meet me at the courthouse in 2 hours!” Jack exclaimed.
“What huh?”
“Ariel and I just got engaged, and we’re planning to tie the knot soon. We’d love for you to be there with us.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Urban's voice broke through, filled with emotion. “Are you serious? I wouldn’t miss it for the world, man. I’ll be there.”
As Jack hung up the phone, a sense of relief washed over him knowing that his best friend would be there. He hurries to Jayla’s room to wake her up.
“Daddy, why are you waking me up before 10am on the weekend!” Jayla whined.
All he could do was laugh at his daughter. “If you don’t want to get up, I’ll guess you’ll have to miss mommy and I getting married.” Jack teased playfully.
Jayla stirred from her sleep, blinking her eyes groggily before realizing what her dad had just said. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she shot up in bed, excitement and disbelief washing over her.
“What? Really?” she exclaimed, her voice filled with astonishment.
Jack nodded with a grin, his heart swelling with love for his daughter. “Yep, really. We’re getting married, Jay. And of course we need you there.”
Her face lit up with pure joy as she threw her arms around her dad, a smile stretching from ear to ear. “That’s amazing, Daddy! Of course, I want to be there!”
As Jack left Jayla’s room to start getting ready himself in the guest bedroom he tried his hardest to not get super emotional but he couldn’t help it.
When Alyssa died it had left him feeling broken and empty inside. Jack had never imagined that he would find love again. He had resigned himself to a life of loneliness, believing that his heart could never fully heal from the pain of losing someone he had loved so deeply.
Then Ariel had come into his life, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. She had shown him kindness, understanding, and unwavering support during his darkest days, slowly but surely helping to mend the broken pieces of his heart.
She had brought light back into his life, filling his days with laughter, love, and the promise of a brighter tomorrow and now in a couple hours she was going to be his wife. This was going to be the best day of his life.
***
With hearts racing and hands tightly clasped together, Jack, Ariel, Jayla with Urban right behind them rushed into the courthouse, their excitement filled the air. Their steps echoed in the grand hallway as they made their way to the front desk, determined to make their impromptu wedding a reality.
Breathless with anticipation, Jack approached the desk clerk, a wide grin on his face. “We’re here to get married,” he announced proudly, his voice filled with excitement.
The desk clerk looked up from her paperwork, surprised by the sudden burst of enthusiasm. But as she took in the sight of the happy family standing before her, her eyes softened with warmth and understanding.
“Of course,” she said with a smile, her fingers flying across the keyboard to pull up the necessary paperwork. “Do you have your IDs with you?”
Jack nodded eagerly, pulling out his wallet to retrieve his ID, while Ariel did the same. With their IDs in hand, they watched as the clerk processed their information, the anticipation building with each passing second.
Finally, with a flourish of her pen, the clerk handed them the marriage license, “Congratulations,” she said warmly, her eyes shining with genuine happiness for the couple before her.
With their marriage license in hand, Jack and Ariel exchanged excited glances, their hearts overflowing with joy. Hand in hand, they made their way to the courthouse chapel, where they would exchange vows and become husband and wife.
Ariel stood there with her hands shaking nervously as the officiant spoke. She was about to become a Harlow. Her heart overflowing with love and emotion, Ariel took a deep breath, her eyes shining with tears of joy. With trembling hands, she reached out to take Jack’s, her fingers intertwining with his as she began to speak.
“Jack,” she began, her voice soft and filled with sincerity, “from the moment you came into my life, you’ve brought nothing but love, laughter, and endless joy. You’ve shown me what it means to love and be loved unconditionally, and for that, I am eternally grateful.”
Tears welled up in Ariel’s eyes as she continued, her voice filled with emotion. “You’ve been my rock, my partner, and my best friend. You’ve stood by my side through the good times and the bad, supporting me, encouraging me, and believing in me when I needed it most.”
A smile touched Ariel's lips as she looked into Jack’s eyes, her heart overflowing with love. “Today, as I stand before you, I vow to love you with all that I am, to cherish you, to support you, and to be by your side through every twist and turn that life may bring. I promise to laugh with you, to cry with you, and to build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures. You are my everything, Jack, and I am so grateful to be able to call you my husband.”
Ariel turned towards Jayla who was standing next to Urban, her heart swelling with love for the girl who had stolen her heart from the very beginning.
“Jayla” she began, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity, “from the moment I met you, you captured my heart in a way I never thought possible.”
Tears welled up in Ariel’s eyes as she continued. “You’ve been my daughter since day one, Jayla. You’ve brought so much light and happiness into my life, and I am grateful for every moment we’ve shared together.”
“I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. I promise to always be there for you, to support you, to encourage you, and to love you unconditionally, just as you have loved me.”
With tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, Ariel pulled Jayla into a tight embrace, holding her close as she whispered, “You are my daughter, Jayla, and I am so grateful to have you in my life. I love you more than words can express, and I promise to be the best mother I can be to you, now and always.”
Jack couldn’t help but join in on the hug, forever grateful for his tiny family. He gave them both kisses on the forehead before pulling away so he could say his vows.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he cleared his throat before beginning his vows.
“Ariel,” he started, his voice warm and filled with affection, “from the moment I met you, I knew my life would never be the same. You’ve brought so much love, light, and laughter into my life, and I am eternally grateful for every moment we’ve shared together.”
A grin spread across Jack’s face as he continued, unable to contain his playful spirit. “Now, I have to admit, I don’t know how I’m going to top your vows, Ariel. They were so heartfelt, I’m not sure I can compete!”
Ariel, along with Jayla and Urban’s laughter filled the room as Jack paused for a moment, enjoying the light-hearted moment with his bride-to-be.
“But seriously, Ariel, today I stand before you with all the love in my heart. I promise to cherish you, to support you, and to stand by your side through every moment, big or small. I vow to be your partner, your confidant, and your biggest cheerleader, cheering you on in all your dreams.”
Jack reached up to wipe the tears that had fallen from Ariel’s eyes and gave her a smile. “I am honored to become your husband, I want to spend the rest of my days making you as happy as you have made me. I love you more than words can express, and I am grateful every day for the love and joy you bring into my life.”
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss—“
Jack, not being able to wait, grabbed Ariel pulling her closer and leaned in, pressing his lips eagerly against her own.
Jayla and Urban cheered as Jack and Ariel had their first kiss as husband and wife.
***
After the whirlwind of emotions and celebrations, Jack, Ariel, Jayla and Urban found themselves at home, gathered around the kitchen table. They placed a store-bought cake in the center of the table, without any formalities or fuss, they grabbed forks and began to dig in, savoring each bite of the cake.
Jack leaned in close to Ariel, his voice soft as he whispered, “I can’t believe today happened. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you as my wife.”
Ariel’s eyes sparkled with happiness as she whispered back, “And I’m the luckiest woman to have you as my husband. Today was perfect, Jack. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.”
Jack glanced at Ariel, a playful twinkle in his eye as he whispered, “When should we tell our families?”
Ariel chuckled softly, her heart warmed by the thought of sharing their joy with their loved ones. “I think we should tell them soon,” she replied, her voice filled with excitement. “Maggie has been pretty much begging you to marry me since we’ve met.”
He nodded in agreement, a smile spreading across his face. “I can’t wait to see the looks on her face when we tell her,” he said, his anticipation growing with each passing moment.
As Ariel rested her head on Jack’s shoulder, a contented sigh escaped her lips. “I’m just so happy,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.
Jack wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “I am too,” he murmured, his voice soft with love. “Today has been everything I ever dreamed of and more.”
***
THEN COMES MARRIAGE!!!!! 🤭🤭 hope you all enjoyed this let me know yours thoughts
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shieldofiron · 7 months
Note
Hello
But what about Steve who got kicked out by his parents when he came out as bi and somehow made it to California and ends up doing sex work and finds it is something he is good at and having a huge dick is good for something for a change. He also does some high end escort work too cos he knows all the etiquette stuff, thanks to his upbringing.
He's got his regulars, men and women, and a little apartment and there's this golden guy who looks like a freaking god who goes past every morning on a run, super early, when Steve has a coffee on his balcony. Steve starts thinking about him when he's jerking off or when he's with clients, he can't help himself.
And then one day he shows up at this fancy hotel to be some rich guy's escort for the night and it's the guy he's been seeing run past his balcony every morning.
Mr Hargrove, CEO of something.
Anyway, that's what I was thinking about just now while I was waiting for you to tell me the super sad bit of your idea.
<3
The request is kind of weird.
Normally people request him in lingerie, something filmy and sexy that frames his body. When it's not that it's suits, from a casual sports coat all the way to a tuxedo, and he keeps it all in his closet.
"You know what it means?" Angela's gum snaps on the phone.
"Green basketball shorts?" Steve scratched his temple, "Not really. I think I have some from high school."
"Well, if they're tight," Angela said, "And he said sneakers. High white socks."
Steve rolled his eyes, "Okay. Weirdo. Did he say anything about sex acts?"
"Anal," Her gum pops.
"No shit, it's a guy," Steve rolls his eyes.
"He just asked what you looked like, honestly. Wanted a guy with brown eyes, brown hair, real pretty," Angela clicked her long nails against the counter, "Other than the outfit he wasn't too talkative. Sexy ass voice. He requested you specifically. Got all perked up when I said the name. Stephan the King only."
Steve shrugged, "Okay. Whatever."
Most of the time he wasn't too concerned with what his clients wanted. He was flexible in more ways that one, happy to bottom or top or escort them to the opera or just listen. Most of the time, the job was just listening, even during sex. Finding out what people liked and being that came naturally to him. He was good at bullshit, as Nancy would say. He was a great hooker.
He'd made his job bullshit. He got paid an ungodly amount by the hour to spread his legs or spread someone else's, and he was good at it. Hooked up with an agency that specialized in high quality work, and kept the total weirdos away from him.
His roommate Jason Carver had a good hand with the weirdos anyway. He was always getting the odd calls where he had to dress up in costumes and came home to their apartment at odd hours, covered in weird substances, his legs shaky until Steve made him take a shower. Last night it had been grape jelly.
And so here Steve was, not covered in jelly, sitting in a plush hotel room in Malibu with his Hawkins high shorts pushed down his thighs, trying to finger himself and thinking about his favorite spank bank material.
Steve didn't know the guy's name, but he called him the runner. Always running at 5 am, long blonde curls streaming behind him. He looked like the models on the covers of those Johanna Lindsay romance novels, the practically-bondage porn that he'd devoured in high school during sleepless nights.
He imagined the running slowing down when he got to Steve's balcony, his bronze skin gleaming and his blonde beard hiding a devilish smirk.
The smirk may be borrowed... maybe the shorts have him remembering some other sleepless nights in high school.
Steve is loose, last night he was working with a couple, and so he's pretty stretched out, which means he can concentrate on just relaxing, brushing his fingers ever so softly over his prostate as he imagines the runner smirking, his voice a hazy blend of movie stars and devilish California drawling.
He kicks up his feet on the bed, working himself shamelessly in time with his finger's motions. He rolls the tip of his pointer over the small nub of his prostate while he works a fourth finger inside.
The alarm on his watch goes off and he makes a winded noise, halfway between a whine and a groan. He was just getting to the good part of the fantasy, where the runner would position him, ass up, over his tiny Venice balcony and eat him out like he was trying to make Steve cum before the dawning of the apocalypse. He would rub his face all over that golden beard, ride him like a stallion. Steve rode his fingers through one more wave, heat crashing down his spine, before he pulled out, tugging up his shorts over his painful erection and rushing to the bathroom to wash his hands and check his hair.
He didn't have to do all this prep but it made his job more enjoyable. Most clients didn't want to go through a lot of foreplay, obviously. But he did like coming too, and it wasn't like he was taking ten clients a night. Might as well have fun.
He was all positioned on the bed when the guy came in. Ready for the masc fantasy, legs spread, his arms on his knees. His dick was lewdly outlined by the tiny shorts, but he guessed they weren't going to the opera so that should be okay.
"In here," He called out, holding his breath until the guy came around the corner.
That devilish smirk fell right to pieces.
"Harrington," The man gasped, the word more breath than it was noise.
"Billy??"
"What are you doing here? Is it Max? Is she okay?" Billy's face is vulnerable, pale under his golden beard.
Steve thinks of the last time they'd seen him, driving off into the dead of the night while Max had cried. She'd begged for Steve's help to move Billy out, and the last he'd seen of Billy Hargrove it was just him chuffing Max on the chin, telling her to be brave.
"She's okay, I..." Steve shook his head, "I'm just here to meet a client."
"Client..." Billy ran a hand over his eyes, and then dropped it over his mouth.
"Yeah, sorry, they must have given me the wrong key at the front I'm supposed to meet-"
"Killian Handcock?"
Steve froze.
"Yeah," Billy sighed, "That's me."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Look, sorry for all this. I'll pay, of course, for your time," Billy began to dig in the pocket of his suit jacket.
"No, whoa, it's okay," Steve waved his hands, "It's okay."
"Obviously, you wouldn't-"
"We can still-"
Billy blinked at him.
"I just mean. It's fine, right. We know why we're here," Steve glances down at his outfit, "You really didn't know it was me?"
"Fuck," Billy dragged a hand down his face, "This is so fucking humiliating."
"No, really," Steve chuckled, "What high school crush am I supposed to be?"
The words are out of his mouth before he's fully able to think them through. It's all obvious later but in the moment, he's thinking of all the guys in their school with brown eyes... brown hair... real pretty...
Billy moves towards him, his face flashing angrily, and then he rears back, nearly slamming into the giant tv that dominates the far wall.
Startle response, Steve remembered from when Billy came back. If he so much as put his hands towards someone he would flinch, remembering what the Mind Flayer made him do.
Steve wasn't being a very good hooker. He wasn't listening. Wasn't thinking.
"You know," Steve sat back on the bed slowly, no quick movements. "I used to read these romance novels in high school. Kind of cheesy, definitely NOT always with the best consent. But... sometimes they'd have these tough guys, kind of take charge guys. And I used to imagine you... taking charge of me."
Billy just blinks at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
Steve spread his legs, just casually.
"Is that what you used to imagine too?" Steve asked.
"Maybe," Billy says in a cracked voice.
"Tell me," Steve urged.
It takes Billy a moment, fumbling with his fancy wool jacket. He hasn't flashed the cash yet, but Richard Harrington's son recognizes an expensive suit when he sees it. Billy's got the money to pay.
Not that Steve's thinking much about payment when Billy starts talking, in that movie star drawl.
"Wanted you to fuck me. Me to fuck you. Wanted to turn you inside out and shake you like pants at the laundromat," Billy whispered, "See what falls out."
Steve bit off a moan that wasn't practiced, wasn't planned. They haven't touched for years. Not since after Starcourt, careful touches around Billy's healing body, friendly, boyish nudges. Nothing like this.
"Wanted to touch you," Billy's face is so raw with longing, blue eyes sparking, it's almost hard to look at, "Touch you all up and down those long legs. Wrap you around me like a scarf. Keep me warm. Indiana's cold as shit and you always looked so warm."
Steve spread his legs further, "I run hot."
Billy reached back and undoes his hair, and it's only as it streams down his shoulders that Steve realizes, almost chuckling if it wasn't for the open, bare way Billy's looking at him. Like Steve is some kind of dream come true.
And the thing is that Steve's a happy hooker. He's not looking for any pretty woman ending.
But... you know sometimes he imagines. Imagines a guy with long blonde hair pulling him close after sex and calling him honey, baby, sweetness.
Billy takes a step forward and Steve smiles at him.
"I'm assuming you don't want me scared, or nervous," Steve runs a hand up his knee.
Billy shakes his head.
"Boyfriend experience," Steve offers, but it doesn't sound like a question, because he's not asking.
Billy's telling him, in the trembling hand that finally finds it's way to Steve's knee, the heavy swallow when Steve tips his head back, letting Billy into his space.
Steve knows. He's listening.
"This a... you have rules..." Billy's voice is gruff, low. Barely heard over the hum of the ac and the distant traffic from the street below.
"I kiss," Steve cocks his head to the side, "I do just about anything. For you."
He runs his hand over the back of Billy's, just tracing the road map of his veins. The long route that led them both here.
"Billy," Steve breathes.
It was just like he imagined Billy Hargrove would kiss. Hard and rough and desperate, like they were about to be ripped apart. Maybe they were, because Steve was clinging too, and it wasn't bullshit. He was shocked to find it was true, every word of it.
He fell open on the bed, half smothered by Billy's bulk, and he reveled in it, wrapping his legs around Billy and tugging him until his full weight pressed Steve to the bed.
Billy broke their kiss with a rough pant against Steve's lips, "Don't wanna crush you, Pretty Boy."
Steve urged, tugging Billy harder, "What a way to go."
Billy's laugh felt different close up, and his beard was softer than it looked, tickling Steve's face. His kiss was hot, and he sank into Steve like a hot knife through butter.
Steve was used to having to work himself up, he forgot what a revelation it was to just kiss. They rolled around together like they invented it, gasping at tugging nips and sucked tongues like they had never done this shit before.
Billy cradled his face like he was trying to memorize it, barely even dry humping him.
And Steve was losing it a little, because the boyfriend experience never felt like this. Never felt like years of knowledge and a "be brave, shitbird."
Never like this.
He undressed Billy like his life depended on it, running his hands up and down Billy's scars and feeling like he could cry, or laugh or something. Somehow, Billy was now the slow one, holding him carefully, like Steve might break. And Steve was the animal, the cyclone, kissing Billy hard, rubbing up on him like a cat in heat.
Because it was Billy, Billy Hargrove, and he was murmuring about honey and sweetheart, and he was begging Steve in soft words to just, "let me take care of you, that's all I want. Want to wrap those legs around my head and drown in 'ya, Harrington."
Steve shook his head, trembling when Billy rolled his hands around Steve's cock through the shorts, pulling Billy closer with his legs.
"I'm ready," Steve whispered, "Want you inside of me. Please, Billy, let's not wait."
"M'Pretty Boy," Billy whispered back, sounding tortured. His brows were drawn up as if in pain, and he cradled Steve's cheek in one hand.
"Billy," Steve pulled Billy back by that long gorgeous hair, "Just fuck me. Please, God, I really want you to fuck me, please."
Billy had a slightly troubled look, but he nodded, tugging at Steve's shorts with gentle hands, chuckling softly when Steve reaches down and yanks them off roughly, losing them in the rumpled bed instantly.
Steve just rolled his legs up, not wanting to part before he gets into position and-
"Condoms," Billy gasped, his eyes jolting to Steve's face.
"Yes... fuck... sorry, yes, I have some, they're on the nightstand."
It's like dousing them both with ice water. Billy pulls back, looking at Steve and then looking down.
They sit there a moment.
"I want you to know," Billy said in a cracked voice after a long pause, his back to Steve. "I'm not a creep. I haven't thought of you in... in a long time. I don't like... hire guys and make them pretend to be you or nothing like that. I just..."
Steve waits, just listening. After a while he reaches a hand out and putting it on Billy's shoulder, rubbing slightly.
"I'm not a creep. I'm not gonna follow you home and t-throw you in a trunk or something-"
"Stop," Steve said, rubbing Billy's back in slow circles. "I don't think that."
"I just mean.... I'll pay," Billy said it gruffly, "If you have another client tonight, you gotta rush, that's ok. But if you have the night, I'll pay."
Steve looks down, catching a glimpse of Billy's hands, tangled together in his lap, holding the condom that he grabbed from the bedside table. He's just as beautiful as he used to be, maybe more so. He's got a layer of fat over his muscles that makes him look softer, his hair is long and soft, and even the beard, it takes away all his rough edges.
"I don't have to rush," Steve said. "Why'd you have me dress up, Billy?"
"I just saw someone, the other day. Been seeing him. In Venice. This guy, he's always wearing these loose robes and he hangs out on his balcony in the morning," Billy bit his lip, "Sometimes with a blonde guy. Boyfriend or something. Anyway, he kinda looks like you. And my boyfriend dumped me like a year ago, because I'm still a total freakshow. Issues on issues on issues. So I thought, fuck it. Why don't I just... be the freakshow I am."
"You're not a freakshow."
Billy chuckles, "Trust me. I am. Pining after a high school... nothing. You didn't even like me."
"I-"
"Don't pretend," Billy looks at him, eyes glistening, "Don't you bullshit me, Harrington."
"I'm not," Steve says, heart in his throat. "I'm not bullshitting. Haven't been from the moment you walked in here."
Billy says nothing, just looking at him.
"I don't have to rush," Steve shook his head. "And if tomorrow, you just leave, and there's money on the stand... that's totally cool. But I'm rushing because... because..."
Billy just watches. Listens.
"Because I'm really glad to see you again, Billy. Really glad. And I wouldn't mind," Steve steels himself for rejection, sucking in a breath. "Seeing you after tonight."
Billy's brow furrows, and he looks down at his hands again.
"Like... maybe for real. And I can wear actual clothes. And no one has to pay anyone. And I'll know who you are. You'll know who I am. And I'll take you back to Venice to meet my roommate, who you already fucking know, I think."
Billy's blinking hard, and it takes Steve a moment to realize he's crying.
"Billy," He whispers, "Honey. Sweetheart."
Billy reaches out and cradles Steve's cheeks, pulling him into his lap and then into a kiss.
"I don't think you're a creep, Billy," Steve wraps his legs around Billy, and holds him safe and warm, "I know you. I know you."
Billy makes a wounded noise, like he doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing. But then he starts running his hands down Steve's chest, tugging on his chest hair and rolling his nipples between his fingers, and Steve goes kind of cock dumb and wild again, rolling his hips, seeking to get closer. He wants Billy to press him to the bed, crush him with his weight.
It's just a happy blur, punctuated by moments of crystal clear sweetness. Billy presses his cock inside of Steve after a long, leisurely, lovely trip between Steve's legs. It turns out his tongue really is magic like the girls used to write on the bathroom walls. Steve's heart is beating like a jackhammer and he's sweating like he did so long ago in high school, his hair flopping in his face as Billy drives into him hard.
"You used to look so fuckin' cute in these little shorts," Billy growled, "Put them on again. Wanna push them to the side, get you all fucked out and gorgeous. Want you to cum in them, pressed all up against the waistband."
And maybe Jason's rubbing off on Steve because he does, slides the somewhat wrecked shorts over his sweaty ass and flops back on the bed. He practically presents his ass on a Hawkins green platter, moaning all slutty.
"Used to dream about them every night," Billy rubs him through the shorts, "Used to think about you in the hospital. When you would wear that fucking family video vest and come drive Max. You got me through physical therapy."
Steve looked over his shoulder, still working his ass back on Billy's cock, "I still have the vest."
"Fuck... fuck..." Billy actually covers his face with his hands, "Is this real? This is real right, not fake bullshit?"
Steve's literally got a cock in his ass, and it's normally not how he does stuff, but he looks back, because seriously?
"Billy. I said I wanna see you? I like you? Now can you please keep fucking me, I'm so close."
Billy finally smiles that smile, that devilish grin, "At your service, Sweetheart."
And then he rocks his hips up and back in a way that presses right against that sweet spot that makes Steve see stars. He cums so hard it does soak into the shorts like Billy said, and Billy rubs it in messily, groaning and pressing his head to Steve's back.
Steve goes boneless on the bed, not even moving when Billy pulls his softening cock out and gets up.
There's a moment when Steve's heart skips a beat that he thinks Billy's gonna slap down an envelope of cash and ask him to leave. And that would be fine. Could be totally fine.
But instead he tugs the covers back and helps Steve under, wrapping his arms around Steve and holding him close to his heart.
"You meant that, about seeing me again?" Billy says softly.
"Yeah, weren't you listening?" Steve plays with the silver medallion that hangs across Billy's collarbone.
"Yeah, I was listening," Billy kisses Steve's temple softly, and Steve's heart flutters like a cartoon duck. "How about we start with breakfast tomorrow. I got a good amount, let's give someone the tip of their life. And I think you need waffles. Pancakes. Whatever the hell you want."
Normally, Steve would call bullshit. But Billy's got a Cartier tank ticking where he tucks a sweaty lock behind Steve's ear. And he knows Billy. He trusts him.
Steve tugs on the necklace until Billy gets the hint and draws him into another filthy kiss.
Steve's normally a pretty good hooker. He's not looking for a Pretty Woman ending.
But it turns out he's a bit of a sucker for the boyfriend experience.
---
This got WAY long. I'll proably put it up on ao3. @intothedysphoria and @dragonflylady77 be proud of me plz.
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dellalyra · 1 year
Text
Family Formation Part Four
Summary: A special moment follows you and Satoru going full protective parents on the kids Principal.
CW: mentions of fighting, misogyny (not from anyone we like lol) swearing
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A/N: ngl actually proud of this one. i really wanna make the reader like endlessly warm and loving, but also badass and powerful because women are amazing - and show how much the reader and gojo love each other after all they're only early twenties and still completely lovesick
Recommended listening:
Vigilante Shit - Taylor Swift
Paris, Texas - Lana Del Rey ft. SYML (for the ending)
Requests open <; 3
Series Masterlist
"Good afternoon, am I speaking to Ms. Y/L?" Echoes through your phone as you step out of the meeting Satoru and you were having with the higher-ups, who were busy telling you how to teach and do your jobs.
"Hi, yeah, that's me. How can I help?" You reply.
"This is Principal Ito, I'm afraid there's been some... trouble with Megumi at school today. Would you be able to come to the school to collect him and have a discussion?"
"Is he alright? What happened?" Panic rose in your chest. Was he sick? He was fine this morning, ate his porridge and drank his juice and flipped Satoru off when he tried to kiss his chubby cheeks and squish his face - so absolutely average Megumi behaviour.
"He is perfectly fine, we'll discuss more in detail when you arrive."
"Okay, his dad and I will be there in 15 minutes." You had recently taken to just saying you were his parents because explained that you had taken in the children and were hoping to formally adopt the children of the man who killed your boyfriend and your boyfriend then actually killed came back to life, after the father and sold his son to the family he excommunicated himself from.
You stroll back into the meeting, bending to tell Satoru the situation who immediately stood up.
"We're leaving - parenting shit to do, bye-bye wrinklies." He said, taking your hand and waving to the higher-ups as he lead you outside. Teleporting you both to the school gates so you didn't just appear out of thin air in a middle school.
Greeting the school secretary, she leads you to the principal's office - where you find a sullen, scowling Megumi looking defiant with his 9-year-old legs swinging from the middle of the three chairs facing the desk. He doesn't even look up when you and Satoru walk-in, staring straight at the principal.
Principal Ito, a greying, pot-bellied man sits behind his desk.
"Ah, Megumi's guardians, yes?" He asks shaking Satoru's hand first, then yours.
"In the process of legal adoption, but yes we're his guardians. What's going on? You okay, 'Gumi?" You sit beside the boy on one side as Satoru sits on the other side, taking a lollipop from his pocket and popping it into his mouth, and handing one to you and the kid between you.
Megumi shrugs in response to your question.
"Mr. Gojo, Ms. L/N, I'm afraid Megumi here is in some serious trouble. At lunch break today, he started a fight and participated which resulted in 4 other boys being brought to the nurse for injuries, extensive injuries." Your jaw dropped, your Megumi? Sure, he had attitude, and was Toji's son being raised by Satoru Gojo (you'll ignore any part regarding your temper's influence), but he was a quiet, introverted boy, taking comfort in books and animals, traits he was learning and inheriting from seeing you seek comfort in the same things.
"Is this true, Megumi?" and "Wait, you beat up for other kids and haven't a scratch. Well done kid! Proud of you lil' man, fist bump!" Coming from you and Satoru, respectively. The principal looks completely shocked, but for once, Megumi actually does a fist bump Satoru, showing no remorse for his actions. You rolled your eyes at the two boys fist-bumping, both with their candy hanging from their mouths, your fiancé was mentally 9. Unwrapping your own lollipop, you turned back to Ito.
"Megumi will be suspended for two we-" The principal began but you stopped him.
"Excuse me, shouldn't we hear Megumi's side of the story before any choices are made without us here?" You interject, as the principal waves his hand toward Megumi, signalling him to speak.
"I'm not gonna say sorry. They were pulling on a girl's hair and calling her names and saying mean stuff about her so I stopped them, but then they started doing the same to me so I hit them." The boy shrugs the words out, quiet yet wholly confident in his actions.
"Ah! See, completely valid - good job bud, let's get your sister and head for lunch together. C'mon babygirl, let's have a fun family afternoon with the kids!" Satoru says as he ruffles the child's hair and moves to stand.
"Mr. Gojo, this behavior is totally unacceptable, and your lack of condemning it and disciple is wholly reprehensible. Megumi will be suspended for two weeks while the board makes the decision whether or not expulsion will be the route we proceed with." Ito declares .
Now, after hearing, and trusting the word of your child - you turn to the principal.
"I'm sorry, am I misunderstanding the situation? A child was being bullied, physically and emotionally in the schoolyard - with no teacher intervening with a total obvious lack of monitoring, so my son stood up to the bullies, who then turned on him and began to physically assault him and he defended himself - yet he is being punished? What of the other boys? I assume immediate expulsion - no deliberation needed?" You lean forward toward the desk, passing your lollipop to a smirking Satoru, who knew that edge in your voice never ended well for the recipient. After all, he'd heard the same measured, cold, clipped, and endlessly terrifying tone when the higher-ups had told you to revise your curriculum on differentiating curses this morning (if he remembered, the exact words were: "I appreciate that you have a clearcut, if antiquated, unrealistic and frankly idiotic vision for how you expect these topics to be taught, however, as a special grade sorcerer I feel I am wholly equipped and far more prepared to decide how I teach my students that the majority of this board who have been solely directing from this room for the entire duration of their exceptionally long tenure." God you were especially sexy when you diss the higher-ups).
"The boys are quite seriously injured Ms. L/N, which we feel is punishment enough - and it is Megumi's word against the four other boys and I'm afraid we must listen to the majority." The principal eyed your flaring nostrils and smirking fiance.
"You've gotta be kidding me! The kid did the right thing, if anything give him an award, school hero!" Satoru interjected.
"I am absolutely floored by the words I'm hearing, Principal Ito, I'm afraid it's all difficult to swallow." You respond.
"I'm sure it is, but perhaps this will teach Megumi a lesson in behaviour and I suggest stronger discipline at home - I know you are not his parents and it must be challenging figuring out what to do."
"First of all, what I'm shocked by Principal, isn't Megumi's behavior - but your sheer ignorance and lack of accountability for the obvious failings of your faculty. I cannot believe a school would allow such behavior to continue, especially since both Megumi and his sister have mentioned four boys who are notorious bullies on previous occasions so rather than dealing with the root problem, you choose a scapegoat to shoulder the blame. Second, how dare you insinuate we are not fit to raise a child, we may be young, hell were 22, but these two children are our son and daughter, we are their parents. We raise these children to be brave, stand up for others and know right from wrong and protect those who cannot protect themselves." You take a breather, and the principal turns to Satoru.
"Mr. Gojo, perhaps you would care to calm your partner down, before things escalate." Ito directs at Satoru, who only smirks and says to Megumi "He's done it now. Watch this."
"How DARE you tell him to calm me down! Why don't you just say 'get your woman under control' and be done with it? Christ, I thought the board of the school we teach was misogynist, avoidant, antiquarian, hostile, and cowardly but you, sir, 'toru baby cover Megumi's ears, take the fucking cake. I'll save you the paperwork, I'm withdrawing my kids from this damn school, no kids of mine will go to a school led by a like you an absolute prick like you. Boys, we're leaving, and we'll be taking Tsumiki." You stand, pushing the chair back as Satoru cackles laughing at the indignation on the man's face. Megumi grabs his backpack and your hand, and you both walk out of the room.
Before he leaves, Satoru turns to the man, "Isn't my girl awesome? She's the best mom! No wonder I wanna marry her!" He throws a lollipop on the desk, and saunters out winking at the stuttering man.
The three of you grab Tsumiki from her class and walk toward the exit when she turns and asks what's going on.
"Why are we leaving, it's only 1pm? Did something happen, Satoru why are you smiling that that? Wait, Megumi, why are you smiling?" She spews looking between you all.
"I got into a fight and they tried to blame it and Ito told Dad to calm mama down on me so mama got mad at Ito and called him a prick." Megumi said to his sister as you and Satoru froze.
He called you mom, he called him dad.
Satoru and you just stared at each other, your eyes welling up with tears and pride. You guys had spoken about if the moment happened. Tsumiki had asked one night when Megumi was sleeping if she could call you guys mom and dad, you both said of course, you'd be privileged (Satoru cried, a lot), she then said she would wait for Megumi so as not to make him feel out of place or uncomfortable, ever the sweet, kind girl. You warned Satoru sternly to not make a big deal of it when he did, as you'd never spoken to the little boy about it, not wanting to push him and telling Satoru to not follow through by planning a 'mom and dad' party, knowing it would only mortify Megumi and make him uncomfortable, he had reluctantly agreed with you.
Knowing this came from you both standing up for him and speaking up for him, you mouthed 'I love you' to him and he responded 'I love you too' over the heads of the chattering kids.
"What? Are you hurt? Dad what did you say? Mom did you really call him a prick?" Tsumiki added.
"Your mama's a badass, kids!" Gojo added.
"We take no shit from men, Tsumiki, remember. Plus, he was being an ass to your brother so it was me doing that or your dad hollow purpled him for disrespecting me and you two." You grab Megumi's hand, rubbing circles into it as he looks up at you.
As Gojo recounted the events to Tsumiki, Megumi turned his little head to you.
"Thank you, mama." He said quietly, shy as ever, into your side.
Willing yourself not to cry, you kiss his forehead.
"Always, darling boy."
Taglist: @madam-ri @vesta-ro
@lilithlunas @sassy-cat-in-town
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ladylooch · 9 months
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How Would I? - Nico Hischier
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A/N: I am going to be honest and say I am actually nervous to post this. I went back and forth on if I needed to soften this up. Ultimately, I feel it is much better as is. But this is definitely dark, so please read at your own discretion!
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Robbery, assault, broken bones, pregnancy talk, violence. 
“Hi.” I whisper to my husband via FaceTime. My feet gently rock Lucie and I on the rocking chair in her room. Nico smiles excitedly when he sees my face. He is leaning against the brick wall of the Prudential Center. The team is having a Dine with the Devils charity event at the arena. 
“Hi.” Nico murmurs back. “She asleep?”
“Yeah.” I flip the camera so he can see Lucie’s angelic face. She had a big day playing with Lio at an indoor play house, then having pizza for dinner. 
“Good. Her and Lio have fun?”
“So much.” I smile, turning the camera back onto me.
“Cause trouble too?”
“Of course.” I roll my eyes. “They conspired by hiding in the upper slides. Only came out when Emma started yelling at them in Swiss German.” Nico chuckles. “The other parents gave her quite the look.” Emma holding her pregnant belly with each heavy inhale added another layer to the picture. 
“I’m sure.” He sighs, glancing up and giving a polite nod as a group of fans walks by to the locker room for their tour. “I should be home in an hour or so. Things are wrapping up.”
“Sounds good.” I adjust the screen in my hand. “Can’t wait.”
“Me too, babe. See you soon. I love you.”
“Love you too.” We pucker our lips for smooches, then click off. “Okay, Luc.” I whisper, then stand. My almost five month bump protrudes out as I maneuver Lucie into her bed. She startles a bit, gripping onto her penguin pillow pet. I back away quietly, then shut the door completely behind me. 
I hold my belly as I walk back down the stairs. I feel so huge this pregnancy. With Lucie, it seemed like I stayed small until the very end when she began gaining a pound a week. But with  this daughter, I’ve been popping since last month. I scratch at the itchy skin around my belly button then head into the kitchen. I finish loading the dishwasher, reaching around for the detergent in the bottom cabinet. I hear the front door open and foot steps on the rug in the entry way. I stand up, closing the dishwasher and pushing the on button.
“Wow, that had to have been record speed.” I say making sure the light turns on for the wash cycle. There is no response. I move to turn around but a hand clasps over my mouth. This is not Nico. Fear jolts through my body and I try to pull away.
“Stop. If you do what I say, you and your daughter won’t be harmed.” It’s a man. A voice I don’t recognize. My heart lurches into my throat. I stiffen. “I am going to release you now. The last thing you want to do is scream. We wouldn’t want your little daughter upstairs to wake up, Mrs. Hischier.”
I can sense he has been watching us. He knows Lucie is asleep. He knows where her room is. He knows who I am. Who Nico is. It’s all panic inducing. The baby kicks against my abdomen as he releases me.
“Go to the table.” He presses something cold to the back of my neck. I have never felt a gun against my skin before, but it sure feels like one. I purse my lips together and slowly move to the dining area. I glance around, looking for a weapon, cursing earlier me that cleaned up the kitchen. The knives are across the kitchen. The vase is too far away to grab. And the very real possibility of a gun being on my neck stops any other thoughts of fighting.
“What do you want?” I ask, surprise at how still my voice is. 
“No questions.” He presses the cool metal even deeper into my skin. The more he talks, the younger he sounds. He rips out one of the dinning room chairs and harshly shoves me down onto it. My stomach bottoms out. The baby kicks harder and I push a hand over her. “You’re lucky you’re pregnant. Otherwise you’d be dead.” My mouth crumbles as he touches my hair. I pull harshly away. “I’m going to tie you up. You’re going to be quiet. I’ll grab what I want and leave. You scream, I take your daughter with me.” 
“Please. Let me go to her room. We’ll stay there together. You can take whatever you want. Please. Just… don’t hurt her.” I am sobbing now, thinking of this man upstairs alone with my daughter sleeping. I feel helpless, incapable of protecting her from the greatest danger.
“Your daughter’s safety depends on your cooperation and yours only. Keep your mouth shut and Nico won’t see your dead bodies when he gets home.”
The way he talks about Nico drips with disdain. A gloved hand comes around, grabbing my wrist and forcing it behind my back. I try to fight against him for the other one, but he yanks down on my shoulder which causes a sharp pain through my shoulder blade. No other words are shared as he duct tapes my feet together. Tape gets slapped over my mouth too. Tears immediately trace over the grey strip.
His retreating footsteps can be heard going up the stairs. I’m stuck. I can’t move the chair. If I tip over, I’ll fall onto the baby. I dig my finger nails into my palm, more tear tracks falling down my cheeks. I listen intently for Lucie. She will scream if he goes in there. I know she will. But no sounds come from upstairs. Nothing except the muted foot steps that I’ll never forget the sound of.
His boots hit the hardwood again. My whole body tenses as I feel him approach from behind. I grit my teeth, trying not to show any fear outwardly. Wanting to swing at him with everything in me and rip his fucking eyes out for invading our home.
“One last thing.” He sneers into my ear, reaching for the wedding bands on my left ring finger. I make a fist, trying to keep them on. “Release or I’ll cut your finger off.” He forces my fingers apart, tugging the rings harshly off. As he is pulling back, I’m able to get my finger nails on him. I press hard then drag, drawing blood. “Bitch!” He grabs the back of my head and throws me to the ground. I land hard on my side. I cringe, feeling the pain shoot through my collarbone. He steps towards me. I turn, looking him dead in his masked face. He stands over me. “All you rich bitches are the same. Ungrateful sluts.” He leans down, grabbing my face, pressing his fingers in. “Should untie you and teach you a lesson.” 
“Dude! Lights are coming down the street! Let’s go!” Someone else yells into the house. 
“Guess I’ll have to come back instead. Maybe on your husband’s next road trip.” He releases my face, stepping over me towards the front door. The voices disappear and the house is quiet again after a click of the front door. His final words hang violently in the air.
I close my eyes, heavy tears running down from my eyes. I pant heavily, struggling to stretch my feet to loosen the tape. I don’t want Nico to find me like this. Every movement makes my chest and shoulder shoot with pain. It isn’t long before the pain is unbearable. I fight back the nausea from it. With the duct tape still on my mouth, I’ll choke If I puke. 
“Nico.” I sob against the stickiness over my mouth. Panic is bubbling up, tightening my throat. I stop fighting, eventually growing still, trying to minimize the damage to myself and the baby by becoming calm. 
I focus on my breathing. I go to the happiest memories I can think of with Nico. I imagine I’m in bed with him in the morning. He is holding me close, placing soft kisses along my face, waking me up from a light sleep. I hear soft baby giggles coming from Lucie as he whispers for her to give me kisses too. It works. The sound of the garage door opening breaks through my safe place. Then the door opens. Nico tosses his keys on the counter. He walks beyond it, shrugging his jacket off.
His gasp rocks my body when he sees me.
“Oh my god, Lex!” He exclaims, his Nike’s slapping the wood floor as he rushes to me. His hands grab my tired hands. I yelp. He stops, then grabs the tape. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Oh my god, baby what happened?!” His brown eyes are wild, mouth dropped open in shock, breathing rapid. “Are you okay?” He reaches down for the baby, then goes back to my hands.
“Don’t pull my hands. I think my collar bone is broken. He gently works my hands apart. Then goes into the kitchen to grab some scissors. When he has me untied, he works me onto my back. 
“Go grab Lucie.” I say. 
“Baby, what happened!”
“Go. Grab. Lucie!” I scream back at him. “Make sure she is okay.” Nico backs up, then runs up the stairs, two at a time, barreling into her room.
“It’s daddy, baby. It’s okay. Just daddy. Let’s go help mommy.” He comes back into view, holding her close to him. His eyes meet mine and his face distorts in pain. He brings Lucie to the couch, then comes back to me.
“Call the police. Someone broke in, tied me up, and took who knows what. All I know for sure is they took my wedding rings.” I hold my hand up, Nico looks at the vacant space. A darkness I’ve never seen before crosses over his features. “Can you help me sit up?” I give him my good arm, then sit up with his help. I run my hand over the baby, anxious to feel her move. Nico watches as he pulls his phone out.
“Hi, I need to report a break in… and um, they hurt my wife.” He is stuttering, barely able to form English words.
The police come. EMTs too. They want me to go to the hospital for x-rays and and an ultrasound for the baby. Nico scours through the video systems we have, including the baby monitor. No one entered Lucie’s room after I did, which is a relief. It also makes it difficult to give a description of the suspect because they cut the wires leading to our security system. The police believe with the quickness of the break in and the retelling of my story that they had been casing the house. They waited for me to put Lucie to sleep. For Nico to be gone. For me to be at my most vulnerable. 
Nico’s fingers gripped mine so tight when the police officer said that, I had to make him let go.
The x-ray confirm my collarbone is broken. They put me in a sling and schedule me for a follow up appointment next week. I can’t take pain killers; they tell me to monitor my Advil intake because of the baby.
It is hours before we return home. Nico’s car pulls up to the house, but it looks different. Dangerous and dark in the early morning hours.
“We are moving.” Nico says as he walks behind me in the garage with Lucie in his arms. “You are not staying here without me. Every time I am gone, you are leaving too.”
“Nico.” I sigh. 
“No Lex. He told you he would be back. I’m not willing to take that chance. Do not argue with me on this.” He shuts the door behind him. “I already sent a text to Steve in hockey ops. He’s grabbing us a place in Hoboken while we search for a new house. We will move into Timo and Emma’s gated community.”
“But this is our home.” I start to cry. He brings Lucie to the couch, then engulfs me into his chest, careful of my sling. He presses kisses along my head, then tilts my face so he can kiss my lips. “This is where we said we would bring all our babies home from the hospital. Where they would take their first steps. And grow up. And be in a safe place. They took that from us tonight!”
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” 
Holding me isn’t going to make any of this better, but he tries as hard as he can.
- - -
Nico watches Lexi and Lucie sleep next to him later that night. Lexi is propped up on pillows, the elbow of her broken collar bone supported by them too. To Nico, she looks fragile, with a sling and a growing belly.  He reaches out for her bump, then skims that same hand along Lucie’s head where she sleeps cuddled into her baby sister. 
He’s tried to fall asleep numerous times already, but he can’t.
He is fiercely angry.
Angry that someone robbed his house. Irate that some piece of shit hurt his wife. Poisoned by the visual of his pregnant wife tied up and in pain. Terror still fills his veins on what he imagined he would see of their daughter as he ran up the stairs. 
All these images and emotions run through his mind. He can’t let it go. The police officers had been gentle yet realistic that they may never find the people who did this. 
Fine, then Nico would. If they can’t do their job, he’ll hire someone better. The best money can buy. He’d bring investigators from Switzerland. He didn’t care. He was going to fucking find them.
None of the cameras in the neighborhood caught them. Yet, they were able to pull DNA from under Lexi’s nails of whoever tied her up. That was enough for him. Nico wants five minutes in a room with him to do permanent damage. He understands now how people can be capable of murder.
Him and Lex should have never picked this house. They had other options that provided a security presence, but they thought they were safe. Well, now he knew better. He should have been a better father and husband by forcing the gated community house.
Lexi stirs again her pillows, letting out a soft groan. Nico reaches out for her face, brushing her cheek lightly with his thumb.
“I need something.” She gulps down a tentative sip of water. “Can I take Advil yet?” Nico looks at the time on his watch sitting on the bedside table.
“Yeah, sweets. I’ll be right back.” He gently leaves the bed, careful not to rustle Lexi or Lucie. Their daughter immediately stretches her little feet out to take over his side of the bed. Normally he hates her feet against his back because she kicks him throughout the night. Tonight, it’s everything to him.
Nico comes back to Lexi with two Advil. She sits up to take it with Nico’s help. He rubs her back, anger intensifying at every flicker of pain on her body.
“Baby, I am going to find who did this.” He whispers to his wife. “They’re going to pay for this.”
“Neeks…” Lexi murmurs back, reaching for his face with her good hand. She strokes his skin, eyes wary with worry. Nico looks back at her, gaze hard, until he loses it completely. He drops his gaze to her belly when he feels the tears.
“I almost lost my whole world tonight.” Lexi sniffs because she is crying too. “How would I live without you, baby?” Lexi shakes her head, not sure what to say to her husband. 
Gradually, with Lexi’s guidance, Nico lays his head into her lap. His nose presses into their growing baby while Lucie’s hand twitches against his hair. Lexi and Nico join hands on her bump.
The room is silent. The heavy thoughts of their night hanging over them. 
Lexi finally gets Nico to sleep by gently stroking his hand, continuously murmuring to him that she’s still here.
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slasherstories123 · 1 year
Text
Roommates
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Chapter 2
Summary: You get attacked by Michael Myers and do something that you think you’ll regret.
Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @charliedawn @mrs-heelshire @naxxsstuff @turdmongler @kawaistrawberry21 @l0sercat @beanbagbitch @oneofvincentscandles @vexeliers-breakroom @beel-mcburger @sleepypersonblog @slasherscrybaby @sadskies @bunnysenpai31 @alexxavicry @emychan @pink-apollo @misscaller06 @7iluc
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Your head was practically pounding as you got slammed against the wall, hot, tight fingers were wrapped around your neck, choking you. You dropped the knife trying to get the hand off of you so you could breathe. The grip was too strong, it hurts. You kicked the person in front of you, they didn’t budge. Clawing at their hand, you tried scratching it, digging your nails into their skin, they still didn’t budge. As you tried to look at them, you realized that it was a man who wore a mask and blue coveralls. Dark spots blurred your vision, clawing at the mask to rip it off. The man put you down, giving you a small amount of time to catch your breath and grab the knife again. You took another good look at him, the realization then hit you. This is Michael myers.. You ran past him, out the room, taking in a painful gasp of air, your throat hurts. But you didn’t have time to groan in pain about it.
How did Michael Myers find you? Why is he after you? Doesn’t he only catch babysitters? A loud slam made you flinch, he’s angry. You quickly hid in one of the kitchen cabinets under the sink. Curling up in a ball to fit. Your shaky hand held onto the knife, trying to control your breathing. It started to get hot underneath the cabinet, sweat slowly piling up on your hand that held the knife. You needed air, cool air. It felt like you were hiding in there for hours. Back starting to ache being in a curled up position. You hoped and begged that Michael left, left you alone and went to find a different victim to mess with, anyone but you. You wanted to live, still having a lot of life ahead of you.
You slowly opened the cabinet, quickly sticking the knife out just in case Michael was present. When the coast was clear, you slowly crawled out of there. Sighing at the feeling of being free and not stuck under the darkness of the cabinets. It was dark, but not pitch black to where you couldn’t see, which was good, but you had to be on the lookout. You've heard many rumors about Michael Myers, well enough to know that he could pop out any minute. A hand tugged your shirt, making you look at the dark abyss of the mask. You screamed as you swung the knife, managing to cut his hip, he looked down at the wound, but then looked back at you. Is this guy immune to pain or something?! He threw you against the couch, you bounced off and hit the ground, groaning in pain since you landed on your face. Back hurting to where your back was used to being hunched over.
The man picked you up by your hair, you felt his knee pressed against your back, his other hand pinning your two arms behind your back with a harsh grip that was sure to leave bruises.You were pinned down to the ground, you couldn’t do anything. His knife aimed at your neck, getting ready to slice your throat. “WAIT!” You screamed, it caught him off guard, stopping his movement, still having a firm grip on your hair. Your heart beating rapidly, the adrenaline running through your whole body. ‘I’ll… give you an offer.” You waited for more movement, a reaction, heck even him speaking. Instead, he dropped your head, letting out another groan since you hit your nose this time. Shakily, you stood up, looking up at the masked man with the knife. You now had to think of an offer now that you said it, but what can you give him in exchange for your life. You looked back at the stairs, a stupid idea popping up in your head.
No way! I’m not gonna ask a killer to live with me! Voices in your head kept screaming at you to not do it. What if he kills you in your sleep and just betrays you? There’s no other choice, it’s either you let him live with you or get killed by Michael Myers, and there's no stopping him.. “If you let me live…. You can live here in this mansion. I won’t call the cops… and you can live here as a hiding place. You have my word.” Silence filled both of you, you shrewd at him even though his eyes weren't visible. He towered over you, breathing heavily, gripping the knife to where his knuckles turned white. You hoped that he’d take the offer, you want to live, you just got the mansions and wanted to be by yourself. He walked past you with a huff, waiting by the stairs.
You were confused until he looked back at the stairs, then at you. It clicked in your head. “Oh!” You slowly walked past him, only taking your eyes off of him when you went upstairs, by the time you made it upstairs, he was right behind you. You picked a room, any room, hoping that he wouldn’t stab you or hurt you. “Here, this will be your room. You can stay in here for as long as you need too, especially if the police are on your tail, but also do me a favor and make sure you don’t get me or yourself caught, it won't look good on either of us..” He let out a small huff in response. Walking past you and dropping the knife by the bed. You took a few steps backwards before entering your own room, closing the door behind you, pressing your back against it before sliding down to the ground. “Great,” You whispered. “Now I have a killer living with me.” You laid on the ground.
Luckily he didn’t hurt you too bad to where you can’t move. Eventually making it to your bed to lay there. Eyes slowly dropping, you needed to stay awake, there’s a killer in the house, but you were tired after that encounterment. Eyes finally closing. Taking deep breaths before you finally went to sleep.
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gumnut-logic · 3 months
Text
Along the Way (Part 7 and The End)
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Sweetapple | Dear Mr Tracy | Along the way - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
It's finished! ::runs around the room like a loon:: Though I have to say that I doubt this will be the last we see of Mr Sweetapple as there are several threads that need a good neat tie up :D
All the wonderful thanks to @onereyofstarlight for staying up extra late and answering my poke across the Tasman Sea for a last minute read. I hope Alex gives you some nice sleep ::hugs tight::
Also, special thanks to all of you for supporting my geeky fanboy Alex :D There will be more as someone sent me some OC asks about Alex and I've realised that the only way I can answer them is by writing fic. (some other OCs of mine might pop up in fic at some point,too, for that exact same reason) ::so many hugs to all of you for being so kind to me::
But anyway, I will stop my excited rambling and present you with the last chapter of this fic....which has taken so long to write - so many apologies. Though I am excited that I'm writing again :D
I hope you enjoy this :D
-o-o-o-
Alexander Sweetapple’s head was spinning.
Not so much from the concussion he had no doubt he had, thank you, Mr Holographic Scott Tracy, but more from the fact that Virgil had just kissed him.
Not Mr Virgil Tracy, Head of Research and Development at Tracy Industries, no….more ‘ohmigod, I finally found you and you’re alive, I want to hug and kiss your brains out’ Virgil Tracy.
The man was covered in concrete dust and grime, there was more grey than blue on his uniform bar the scratched patches where his now discarded exosuit had sat.
Alex had proof Virgil had hugged him via all the dusty patches on his damp clothes, on his arms, and in his hair.
Virgil Tracy had hugged and kissed him.
For real.
Alex stood beside his mum while Virgil assessed the condition of her ankle and she went about embarrassing her son every way possible.
To be honest, it had been such a day that she was welcome to show Virgil Alex’s naked baby pictures for all he cared. She was safe and that was all important.
A glance over at the remains of the museum building prompted his heart to add a few extra beats per minute to its routine.
Alex let his jaw drop as he watched the roof float away.
Oh god.
“Alex?”
Virgil’s voice was so rich and deep.
“Alex?” And then Virgil grabbed him. Was he trying to hug him again. That would be nice. “Whoa! I think you need to sit down.”
Okay.
He folded himself smoothly down onto the pavement beside his mum.
“Hey, honey, look at me.” Her fingers were suddenly in his hair. “Allie, how the hell did you do all that with a head injury?” She peered closely at him. “Virgil, what do your scanners say?”
And yes, Virgil was waving a yellow light over Alex. “Concussion, bruising…” He frowned. “You’re both wet. You’ve been in the river?”
“Nearly drowned. My foot got stuck and Allie pulled me out. Some water, possibly sewage, may have been inhaled. My recommendation is to watch for symptoms of infection. In both of us.” Dr Sweetapple was in the house.
He turned to Virgil only to find his friend’s eyebrows fully deployed.
They were very nice eyebrows.
Virgil caught his stare. “Thunderbird One, I need to leave the danger zone. Ten minutes there and back for patient transport.”
“FAB, Thunderbird Two. Make it quick, we need your help in the industrial sector.” A pause. “How’s Alex?”
“Concussion, but well enough…and safe.” Virgil still had his eyes.
“Good to hear. Thunderbird One out.”
“What are you doing, Virgil?” The words slipped out without thought.
Virgil looked down at his wrist control poking it. “You both need medical supervision. I’m providing it for you.”
A good hundred metres away, Thunderbird Two rose up on her struts and her module door slid smoothly open. Two hoverstretchers darted out across the road, gliding around obstacles until they reached Virgil’s side. He pulled out a control surface and reconfigured them into hoverchairs. “Sorry to rush this, but time is short. Alex, stay put while I help your mother.” He held up a gloved hand and Alex was forced to settle back and obey.
Besides, the world was spinning again, and after all, Virgil was technically his boss.
He let his head fall into his hand and closed his eyes, suddenly ever so tired.
So this was what an adrenalin drop felt like.
Ugh.
“Alex?” Virgil’s voice was soft and his gloved hand gentle on his arm. That was really nice. “Alex? You with me?”
He blinked. Oh. “Yeah.”
“Let’s get you up.” Virgil nudged him, both hands holding his arms to steady him.
The world wobbled, but a few steps and Virgil had him snug and safe, strapped into the hover stretcher…chair…whatever the hell it was.
Virgil was running, Alex and his mother beside him, until they were all swallowed by the green of Thunderbird Two.
At some point, Virgil must has triggered the chair back into a bed because Alex was lying down and Virgil hovering over him, once again with a scanner flickering yellow light. “You can go to sleep, Alex. You’re okay and you’re safe.” A gloved hand gently brushed away the hair from Alex’s forehead. He knew this should mean something, but he was so tired.
Thunderbird green danced as his eyelids drifted closed.
Somewhere something was roaring just like a Thunderbird launching, but he had no energy to care.
-o-o-o-
Jeff stepped into the elevator only to almost collide with his mother. “Mom?”
“I’m meeting Thunderbird Two.”
“Why?” Was Virgil hurt? Why hadn’t John told him?
A hand on his arm quelled the sudden panic. “Virgil is fine. We have visitors.”
“Who?” Did he have to draw the information out bit by bit?
“Do you remember Alexander Sweetapple?”
“Of course, I do. Gordon thinks Virgil might be…interested.”
“He is.” She held up a finger so close to Jeff’s face, his eyes crossed. “And you are not going to say a thing. Yes, he’s breaking protocol, but he has good reason.” She looked away and let her finger drop. “The poor boy has been terrified all day. Thank god, they finally found Alex. And I don’t blame him for not wanting to let him out of his sight.” His mother stared up at Jeff with all the fire he knew she possessed. “Your son is bringing home his first romantic interest ever and you are not going to spout security blather all over him. This is our house and we can have guests. Especially important guests.”
Jeff took a step back. “I wasn’t going to say anything!” Virgil was bringing home Alex? As a love interest? “What the hell happened?” He really needed to speak to John about keeping him updated. He knew his orbiting son was selective, but this was ridiculous.
The elevator doors opened and his mother glared at him. “Something good. Don’t ruin it.” She stomped off into Two’s hangar, detouring into the medical supply cupboard on the way, just as the hangar doors started their opening sequence.
Jeff stepped cautiously out of the elevator. He had no idea what warranted his mother’s ire. Okay, maybe he had had some words with his eldest at one point, but that was nearly a decade ago.
His priorities were a little different these days.
Two roared in, a little faster than the norm. Virgil was obviously in a hurry. She spun on her turntable and the moment she settled, her forward hatch was lowered, Virgil standing between two hoverchairs.
Jeff hurried after his mother, cursing his cane, as Virgil strode with the two chairs towards them.
“Grandma, this is Doctor Lolly Sweetapple. Doctor Sweetapple, this is my grandmother, Doctor Sally Tracy, she and my father will be taking over your care.”
The two doctors exchanged greetings and slipped into medical babble two seconds later.
“Dad?” Virgil gestured him over. “You remember Alex?” Why was there so much hesitation in his son’s voice?
“Certainly, the creator of Siliwrap.” The man was obviously asleep. “How is he?”
“Concussion, bruising, he and his mother need monitoring for possible lung infection. They were caught in contaminated water.” His son swallowed; his expression hesitant. “I wanted them here, Dad. Grandma has the skills and the tools.” He looked away. “I just couldn’t leave them to the system.” His eyes fell on Alex and Jeff’s heart clenched.
“We will look after them.” He dropped a consoling hand to his son’s shoulder.
Vulnerable eyes looked up at him. “Thanks, Dad.” His hand was squeezed and Virgil was again moving. This time running back to his ‘bird.
His mother immediately took over and bustled them all into the elevator before they could acquire new coiffures a’la rocket engine.
As the doors closed, Thunderbird Two accelerated out on to her runway and the elevator shaft roared as she took to the sky.
-o-o-o-
Alex rolled over in bed and sighed into his pillow. He was extremely comfortable. Temperature was perfect. Pillow was soft. “Mmmmm….”
“About time you woke up, Allie. You were starting to worry me.” His mother’s voice was always reassuring.
“He’s fine, Lolly. Concussion is healing and there is no sign of any lung infection. See, look at the scans.”
Alex frowned. That was a female voice he didn’t recognise. Also, why was his mum in his bedroom?
“You’re giving me equipment envy, Sally. My god, the science behind this is amazing.”
“Virgil has them in development, don’t you worry. A good percentage of our breakthroughs do get filtered down into the market. Unfortunately, there is a difference between the ability to make a device for International Rescue and making devices in efficient, ecological and economic mass production. Our teams do their best.” A snort. “And your boy is part of that team. His devotion to Siliwrap is all to his credit. Alex is saving lives as much, if not more, as any at Tracy industries. You should be proud.”
“Oh, that’s a given. He’s always been a little obsessive, especially regarding the Thunderbirds.”
Wha-?
Alex flung his eyes open to find his mother lying on a bed beside him, smiling. She had her ankle wrapped and raised and was obviously talking to the owner of the other voice, an older lady dressed in a purple jumpsuit.
Both were smiling at him.
“Where am I?”
Yes, that’s the first question out of any alien abductee’s mouth, no doubt about it.
“You’re on Tracy Island, Alex. You and your mother are safe and our guests.” When Alex didn’t respond as his brain automatically overloaded. “I’m Mrs Tracy, Virgil’s grandmother.”
“Watch it, Sally, he may combust on the spot.”
Thanks, mum.
His mother was grinning at him. “I swear he’s been looking for the location of this island since he discovered his first Thunderbird.”
“Mum!”
“Shhh! You’ll wake him up.” His mum was pointing behind him.
“Lolly, don’t worry, Virgil sleeps like the dead. Especially after a rescue like that.”
Virgil? What?
He twisted around and found a third bed behind him. Virgil lay sprawled face down on it, snoring softly into his pillow.
“Don’t worry, honey. He’s just tired. Our boys exhaust themselves and then wonder why their bodies shut down.”
It was only then all the events leading up to his current situation fully loaded into his brain.
Virgil.
Virgil had kissed him. His chocolate eyes held such relief and joy…
The scene played back in his head over and over, declaring that it had happened. That something Alex may have dreamed about but never really considered actually possible, had happened.
He stared at Virgil.
Gone was the uniform and in its place a simple black t-shirt outlining a lax bicep hanging off the edge of the bed. Alex’s eyes tracked down the length of Virgil’s arm to his hand.
Such strong hands.
The emergency responder had a blanket draped over him, obviously placed there after the advent of slumber, likely by his purple grandmother.
“Why is he here?”
Mrs Tracy walked around Alex’s bed so she could face him. “Now, don’t you start worrying your head off, young man. He is fine. He’s in the bed because otherwise he’d be asleep in a chair and that is not acceptable self-care. He wanted to stay here with you and it was the bed or out. Exhaustion did the rest.”
He stared at her a moment, his thoughts spinning.
“How are you feeling, Allie?”
Huh? He turned back to his mother. “Mum, your ankle…”
She waved him off. “Hon, I’ve done worse tripping over kids in the waiting room. Nothing to worry about.” She frowned at him. “How’s your head?”
How was his head? How was he in general?
There were aches, yes, now that attention had been drawn to them, but generally, considering that he’d just been through a major disaster, he felt okay. “I’m okay.”
His eyes drifted back to Virgil.
“Don’t you think of getting out of bed just so you can sit at his bedside, Alex. I know how you boys think, so don’t think you can pull one over on me.” Virgil’s grandmother was proving to be as bad as Alex’s mother.
“Don’t worry, Sally, he’s been very well trained from birth.”
“How did you manage that? I’ve been trying for nearly thirty years with the grandkids. Their father is just as bad.”
Alex’s eyes widened. Their father? Jeff Tracy. The Jeff Tracy who gave his name to Tracy Island. That Tracy Island that was ever so secret and Alex was currently resting his butt on. Well, the bed his was resting his butt on was on the Island. It was simple transference of molecular ownership.
Perhaps this was not the best moment to realise that he was wearing a black t-shirt very similar to Virgil’s and that it was not one he owned, nor was it one he was wearing the last time he was aware and conscious.
He pulled up the blanket and found black shorts. “Where are my clothes?” Perhaps the step up in octave was a little ridiculous on his part, but it had been a very stressful day.
“Your clothes were ruined, Allie. Jeff and Mrs Tracy were kind enough to supply and dress you in some replacements.” His mother was ever so matter-of-fact, as usual.
“Jeff Tracy saw me naked?!”
Okay, he had to admit, that was supposed to be inner voice and not shouted at the top of his lungs. In any case, it proved that it was possible to wake up Virgil Tracy, no matter what his grandmother said.
“Alex? What?”
He turned to find Virgil pushing himself up off the bed, hair sticking in all directions, obviously still half asleep.
“Honey, the man brought up five boys. One more is nothing new.” Mrs Tracy was as matter-of-fact as his mother.
Great. A team up.
“Virgil, go back to sleep.” Mrs Tracy bustled over to her grandson and attempted to get him to lie down.
But Virgil had caught sight of Alex. “Alex! You’re awake!”
Mrs Tracy actually rolled her eyes as Virgil threw off his covers and climbed out of bed. He closed the distance between them on bare feet. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
Alex couldn’t help it. “You look adorable.” Because he did. Big tough rescue operative with puffy eyes and hair sticking up all over the place, not to mention the black t-shirt and shorts that hid absolutely zero anatomical detail. And above all, he was smiling, as if ever so happy to see Alex…which was some kind of miracle and honestly how hard had he hit is head?
“You’re not bad yourself.” That smile turned to one of appreciation.
What?
His mother did mention a concussion…
“Okay, it’s obvious Virgil is not going to listen to his doctor’s advice, so Lolly and I will leave you two boys alone.” Mrs Tracy poked at his mum’s bed and it detached from the wall, hovering quite happily and easily nudged out of the room.
“Allie, take it easy, love. You are recovering from a concussion, after all.”
Yeah, yeah, mum, whatever. Virgil’s eyes were such a beautiful shade of brown.
Both women muttered to each other as they left the room, closing the door behind them.
Virgil was poking Alex’s bed controls with his fingers. “Good. You’ve rested.” His eyes were tracking over medical readouts. Alex’s medical readouts.
“I’m okay, Virgil.”
The man looked up at him again. “Good.”
Alex frowned as Virgil lifted a hand up and gently brushed Alex’s hair clear of his left temple and the abrasion there. “Grandma’s treated you well.”
Alex wanted to fall into that gentle touch. His eyes may have at least partially closed.
“Are we okay?”
Alex’s eyes snapped open.
“I mean…” Those eyes looked down and away. No, come back! “…we haven’t talked about-“
Alex was suddenly kissing Virgil. There had been space between them, but now it was gone, Alex had his arms around those truly magnificent biceps, and startled lips were pressed up against his, ever so warm, and god, Virgil was kissing him back…
There was a brain whiteout for a moment as Virgil’s arms returned Alex’s eager embrace…and then Virgil’s tongue was in his mouth and…
“Whoa! My bad.”
Alex pulled back.
“No! No, you two just keep doin’ what you were doin’ and I’ll just put this coffee down and-“
“Gordon, what do you want?” Virgil hadn’t let go of Alex, but his head did turn towards his brother.
Alex was busy dying on the spot. Why did he do that? Kiss Virgil? Him?
“I brought you coffee! You know, life blood and all that.” Coffee? “Uh, you might want to get back to that tonsil hockey you were playing. Alex looks like he’s might dump you for the coffee.”
“Go away, Gordon.”
“Going away, leaving, like a tree. Happy for both of you. ‘Bout time, Virg.”
“Gordon!”
“I’m gone!” And he was, the door sliding shut behind him.
Virgil turned back to Alex. “Sorry about that.” A slight shrug. “I have brothers.”
Alex blinked. “I have sisters.”
Virgil’s smile was a sight to behold. “So, we’re okay?”
Alex had had a very hard day, his head was a bit of a mess and there were several truths he was ignoring to keep his sanity. But right now?
He tugged Virgil closer. “More than okay.”
“You want some coffee?”
But Virgil’s lips were brushing his and… “No, I’m good.”
The coffee went cold.
-o-o-o-
FIN
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