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simpjaes · 2 months

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desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― DUB CON. use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish, reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something.

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants.

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness.

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently.

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too.

Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week.

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs.

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce.

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?”

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone.

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more.

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off.

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you?

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?”

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum.

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end.

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty.

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut.

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.”

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father.

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches.

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

You really seem to be enjoying this.

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are.

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you.

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat.

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to.

No one would even know.

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs.

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect.

“I knew it.” You giggle, bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself.

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.”

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now. At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down.

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy.

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes.

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?”

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards.

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not.

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you.

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now.

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now.

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth.

Oh. Oh.

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of.

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying.

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.”

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it.

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now.

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him.

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor.

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh.

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes.

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration.

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it.

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.”

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it.

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat.

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well.

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged.

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath.

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties.

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly.

You’ve gotten wetter.

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.”

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous.

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better.

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman.

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it.

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything?

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat?

No.

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it.

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand.

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.”

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press.

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you.

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk.

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily.

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before.

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly.

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't.

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free.

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you.

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk.

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head.

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.”

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.”

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it.

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty.

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.”

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.”

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit.

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now.

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself.

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?”

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you.

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more.

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him.

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts.

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good.

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him.

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe.

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence.

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it.

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it.

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear.

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor.

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father.

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before.

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into.

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand.

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?”

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness.

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed.

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut

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sockiestupidity · 1 year

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Reader having a depressive episode and Miguel helps them out of it 👀👀👀👀

Also can I be 🕸️ anon 👁️👄👁️

AH OKAY SO FIRST IF ALL. RLLY SRRY IF THIS IS BAD😭 I LEGIT DIDNT KNOW HOW TO WRITE THIS🧍‍♂️

ALSO MY SECOND REQUEST???😭 FREAKING TF OUT LITERALLY TY 🕸️ ANON

I JUST WANNA STATE THAT I HAVE NEVER HAD A DEPRESSIVE EPISODE EVEN THO IM CONSTANTLY SAD SO A LOT OF THINGS MIGHT BE INACCURATE BUT JUST LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS LIKE WRITTEN RLLY BADLY AND ILL TAKE IT DOWN🥴

Warnings-lowercase intended, bad writing and grammar as usual, depression/depressive episode, ooc miguel?, use of the word mijo, forehead kiss👁️

nonverbal/mute reader again (might decide to make this my thing?? bc nonverbal/mute reader fics do be hard to find)(srry if u wanted reader to talk 😬😬😬)

reader uses hq housing as usual🤩(U CANNOT TELL ME THAT HQ HOUSING DOES NOT EXIST I REFUSE TO BELIEVE IT😤)

ALSO MIGUEL AND READER ARE AGAIN IMPLIED TO ALREADY HAVE AN ESTABLISHED PLATONIC/FOUND FAMILY DYNAMIC (sorry for the long intro 🕸️ anon, pls still lob me🥺)(that second part is meant to be funny lol)

it was around 1:00 pm the time you and miguel decided to set up as a designated lunch time as the both of you had not been able to get together because both of your schedules had been busy lately. although you had claimed to have been occupied with missions, he hadn't seen you completing any of those missions. he shrugged it off, thinking that maybe he just was preoccupied with another matter when you had completed your missions. (A/N: miguel i lob u but sometimes ur rlly serving idiot😔)

his oblivious mindset soon turned into worry when it dawned 1:30 and you still had not shown up. "what trouble could that kid possibly have gotten into that made them this late?" he thought to himself. you were usually a punctual person, and often arrived to your lunch meetings with him earlier than he did. as he waited another ten minutes he decided that he needed to take action, it was out of character for you to be this late, especially with your history of punctuality.

miguel headed over to your room at hq housing. in his mind, he thought that it was a possibility that you were just tired and had just layed down for a nap, forgetting about your meet up with him.

as he knocked on your door and patiently waited, he noticed that there was a lack of noise. he knocked on your door, and proceeded to hold his ear up to the door, wanting to confirm the lack of noise. you had naturally always been a quiet person, contrasting with many of the eccentric personalities most spider people had.

miguel felt something odd about the quietness, and decided that he had no choice but to investigate further. surprisingly, the door was locked, despite the fact that you had always locked your door, no matter what. as he entered the room he was met with an unsightly mess.

all of your belongings were strewn across the floor, if he wasnt worried before then he was definitely worried now. your stuffed animals had always been your most prized possessions, he remembered how you always furiously typed about them. hell, he wouldnt be surprised if your stack of communication cards were so thick because you made a special card for each stuffed animal.

as he entered where your bed was located, he noticed an increasing amount of clothing piles, as well as more misplaced stuffed animals, he frowned at this. where could you possibly be? and how could you let your room get this bad? he trudged through the piles of clothes. he looked at your bed, there was nothing there but a lump. he assumed that it was more of your clothes, or maybe your pillows. he was about to back away when he suddenly saw the lump move.

"kid is that you moving right now?" he asked, waiting for a sign of some sort that it was infact you, and not just his imagination. he suddenly heard a tap.

miguel took that as a sign that it was you, "can you please show me that wonderful face of yours?" he asked softly. he wanted to make sure that he wasnt accidentally pressuring you to do anything.

when there was a lack of response he decided to go a slightly different route, "may i flip the sheet over just a bit for you? i want to talk to you face to face." he wasn't really expecting a response, as it seemed like you didn't want to acknowledge him. he was taken aback when you responded with another tap.

he slowly lifted the covers, and was met with your face, but something was off..

you had a dead look in your eyes, they also looked red, as if you had been crying. he gave you a concerned look. if he had known that you were struggling this much he would've visited you sooner.

he ran his fingers through your hair as a form of comfort, attempting to give you some sort of comfort. "im going to try to get you out of this mess, you wont have to worry about being alone anymore, alright?" he watched you as you slowly nodded.

miguel started to get to work on your room. he made sure that all your clean and dirty clothes had been separated accordingly, and had folded all the clean clothes neatly into your drawers, which he had also taken the liberty to organize, he then placed all your stuffed animals in the correct spots that were assigned to each of them, collected your trash, and finally ended with a good scrub. he decided to not only clean your whole bathroom, but also scrubbed down any other hard surfaces that had been covered in grime. (A/n: this might be a bit extreme for just a week but trust me, it doesn't take that long for hard surfaces to get musty)

once every item in your room had been neatly organized and accordingly cleaned he approached you once again. you still had yet to move from your position.

he sat down on your newly cleaned floor, wanting to make sure that he looked less threatening to you, he then spoke up once again, " everything will be fine kid. do you think you could get up?" you slowly nodded.

he helped you slowly stand up and embraced you in a hug. you were caught by surprise, as the only time miguel came in contact with people, it was mostly violent.

after the hug ended he spoke up again, "you're going to take a shower and get dressed, ill wait for you." you slowly nodded once again.

you still felt so much dread, and misery but you wanted to show miguel that you could be strong and that you really did want to get better for him.

you headed to the shower, clothes and towel in hand. you slowly took your clothes off after the water was to your liking and slowly began your shower. you mostly just focused on rinsing your body, the thought of doing your hair seemed as too big of a task for yourself. you finished your shower and dried yourself off, then got dressed.

you then opened the bathroom door, your face meeting miguel's as you gestured to your hair, "you want me to take care of your hair?" you nodded in response to the question.

he knew exactly how to take care of your hair, as he used to take care of gabriellas hair.. he started running the sink, and then grabbed your hair products and a hairbrush. he ran his fingers under the water, "alright, this is going to be weird but i need you to tilt your head, just like you're at the hair salon, it might feel uncomfortable because we don't have a stool but i promise you that you'll feel so much better later." you nodded and placed your head in the sink.

"let me know if it gets too hot." you blinked your eyes in response. he started massaging in your shampoo, after rinsing it out he lightly brushed your hair for a bit, before continuing with conditioner. once he was done with conditioner it was easier for him to brush out your knot's.

once all the knots were properly detangled he turned the sink off and spoke once again, "would you like your hair dried?" you nodded, he grabbed your drier and got to work, making sure every part of your hair dried evenly (if you have curly hair he used the diffuser attachment). after your hair was dried he brushed out your hair once again.

you turned to face him with a soft look in yours eyes. you reminded him of gabby so much that it hurt his heart. he couldn't even imagine his little girl having to go through this by herself. "thank you" you signed.

he felt a pang in his heart, "of course, you know that im always here if you need my help, mijo." he gave you a small forehead kiss.

"we should get some food now, kid." you nodded. he guided you towards the cafeteria that most spider people ate at in the society. you smiled at the miguel themed burger. maybe everything would finally be okay with miguels to support you through your toughest times.

A/N: this might be long and confusing bc im rlly sleep deprived(sorry😔)

ofc theres more to depression but i rlly wanted to at least incorporate some sort of fluff😭

#across the spider verse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #platonic!reader #platonic relationships #angst #miguel o'hara fanfiction #angst with a happy ending #i think #hope u like it #feedback is appreciated

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lowpolyshadow · 10 months

Note

Something i don't really agree or get is fandom perspective of shadow being lame,cringe and bastard meow meow cus that's not really it either(surviving and trying to cope with the horrors? The coolest thing), more like a modern distorted loved notion of people, yeah is funny but also projected and kinda westernized(the inaccurated dub versions and dialogue), leaning away from the original cultural backgrourd that get's sleep on and puts a more nuanced perception of the games. Idk where im going with this but i don't get people popular perspectives idk sorry im a killjoy i just love the fucked up aspect of this silly franchise and it's characters(i wish it could get that deep again).

theres a lot of things that indicate shadow is a cringe little bastard from jp to eng, it’s like his whole. Thing. the fanon flanderization of shadow is crazy but the part where he’s a bastard is pretty blatant in canon

like, he’s genuinely cool and stuff, he has a lot of fantastic moments (if the world chooses to become my enemy i will fight as i always have, the entire somewhat ridiculous yet awesome finale of shadow the hedgehog, sa2’s ending literally cemented his popularity so hard he came back to life in heroes because people thought he was fucking awesome and compelling), but a big appeal is the fact that he’s also still a silly guy in a series full of whacky silly guys

the eng and jp dubs have their differences in tone in a lot of ways, and eng is not incredibly accurate bc of it, but shadow even in jp is still like. a loser (affectionate)—he’s constantly talking about how much better he is, he insists on showing his dominance over sonic (and others, but especially sonic) even when it doesnt fucking matter ala tsr, he constantly FULLY believes he is the most correct person in any and all situations, and that his actions are always the best way to go about it even if it’s reckless or sometimes unnecessary (the mow things in my way down solution)

he’s so earnest in everything he does, in his own special cringe little way, where he’ll say factually correct statements in a blunt manner, but also not quite … ? he’s very honest. he’s incredibly straightforward. every single comment he says, no matter how fucking absurd or edgy or funny, he truly means it. thats his APPEAL he says shit like “ive hit the ultimate jackpot!” and “this is like taking candy from a baby, which is fine by me!” and somehow also “no one else should experience the things ive gone through” and thats all FANTASTIC

i like this twitter thread and a lot of jib’s threads on shadow, bc they know a lot more about the jp side of things, but tldr: shadow is my funny little guy. my stupid little pogchamp. my cringe little bastard boy who is the coolest and also the lamest motherfucker ive ever witness. i’m going to dribble him like a basketball

#i think ur trying to separate the silly and the fucked up but the appeal to me and many people #is the fact that u have these silly ridiculous guys in fully serious fucked up situations #and THATS when theyre the most appealing (to me)#shadow the hedgehog (2005) wouldnt be NEARLY as appealing To Me if shadow wasnt also a silly guy #look at sonic in that goddamn game! hes ridiculous! hes like the best part bc hes goin around saying WOOHOO while shadow is having loke #the crisis of his LIFE here!!! thats so funny!!!!!#the basic building blocks of shadow are in place so that if u cared about him in sa2 #u will still care especially towards the semi hero and hero endings #but the weird shit in between. the silly nonsense sonic guys who tag along with him. his funny karate chop of the computer. idk #he’s cool but hes cringe. duality. the perfect character #speaking #long post #asks

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ohmtoff · 4 months

Text

Chasers and the Game for My Heart

Nick Sturniolo x Poc!OC Hogwarts AU

Summary: The first time Nick meets Kevin Thomas, the seventh-year Gryffindor chaser, it’s because the boy saves him from a bludger to the face.

Contains: fluff, most probably inaccurate hp stuff, part veela!triplets, slytherin!nick, gryffindor!oc, gryffindor!chris, hufflepuff!matt, hufflepuff!madi

WC: 5053

Disclaimer: i am not a black person. to depict the character i did research by looking at @writingwithcolor and also asked the darling @nickuniversity for help, tysm girl <3 i don’t support jk rowling and her transphobic, anti-semitic, and zionist remarks (and all others i cant remember bc honestly that woman can’t stfu)

a/n: this is for the darling anon who requested poc!oc, so sorry bby that you had to wait long😭 since this is my first time writing a black character, pls don’t hesitate to criticise me if i say anything tone deaf, innacurate, or offensive. im rlly willing to learn <3 okay hope you enjoyyy!!

——————————————————————————

The first time Nick meets Kevin Thomas, the seventh-year Gryffindor chaser, it’s because the boy saves him from a bludger to the face.

Nick is getting some reading done -hiding out- up on the Slytherin quidditch stands after leaving the library, having grown tired of the group of girls that are always trailing after him sighing and batting their eyes at him, an irritating side effect of his veela heritage. He’s deep into his Herbology book making notes, trying desperately to remember the steps and ingredients to make a Strong Invigoration Draught, that he easily ignores the Gryffindor quidditch team starting practice on the pitch. He’s re-reading a passage on Sneezewort when he hears a loud smacking sound and a ‘watch out!’

Nick looks up and freezes as a bludger comes hurling towards him at top speed. He’s always had shit reflexes, a side effect of having the athletic skills of a drowning sloth, so he can’t move or really think. His brain uselessly supplies that getting his nose broken by a stupid ball when he doesn’t even play quidditch is going to suck, and yet he does nothing but close his eyes, hold his breath, and waits for impact.

Seconds pass.

No ball slams onto his face except for the wind that blows his hair out of his face. He opens one fearful eye and instead of seeing a bludger racing towards him, he sees a giant with luminous locs tied into a ponytail on a broom in Gryffindor colors and a wooden club in his hand.

“That was a close one,” the guy says with a wide smile calmly doing small circles on his broom, like Nick’s face wasn’t almost rearranged. Nick watches as one of the boy’s teammates flies by and the guy throws the club back at him.

“You’re not a beater,” Nick blurts out, his heart is still racing, his brain latching onto unimportant nonsense.

“Nope, Chaser,” he gets in answer, the smile on the boy’s face is sunny and happy like Nick has done a neat trick by noticing. “Lucky for you I was quick enough to grab a beater’s bat and get to you, would be a shame to damage a pretty face like yours.”

Nick feels his face turn red in embarrassment and irritation, it wasn’t the first time a boy teased him about his looks. “This pretty face wouldn’t have to worry if your team was better.”

“Ooh,” the boy grins, his amusement evident and annoying Nick even further. “Slytherins and their sarcasm. That wasn’t very nice, Nick.”

The boy lands his broom down to put his feet on the stand in front of Nick, giving the brunette boy a view on how tall he really is.

Nick narrows his eyes at the boy, “You know my name?”

“Male veelas are rare, even if you’re only a quarter veela, you stand out,” he gets in return with a shrug. “I pay attention.”

The guy winks at him and Nick tells himself his heart is beating out of his chest from the near-death experience and not the boy in from of him. He pulls at his green and silver scarf up, hoping it will hide any redness on his cheeks.

Is he flirting with me?

“Oh, and you got the same face as my captain, so I kinda figured.”

“Oh,” okay that makes more sense.

“Nick!” Speaking of said captain, Chris flew quickly towards him and drops onto the stand with a loud thud. “Holy shit, you okay?”

“Maybe train your team better so I wouldn’t almost get my nose beaten in, fucking idiot.”

The brown skinned boy raised his eyebrows, vision darting between the two brothers.

“Why the fuck were you here anyway? Oh look at me, reading a book at the quidditch stands like a goddamn loser,” Chris jabs back with a mocking voice.

“Putting in work as the only one with a brain between the two of us.”

“Ooh!” The boy lets out a surprised noise then cackled, putting a fist up to his mouth to stifle it.

Both Nick and Chris turn towards the laughing boy. “Shut up, Kev,” Chris lets out with a sigh while also chuckling, making the other apologize with a grin.

Chris turns to Nick again, “Be careful next time, I don’t wanna get a howler from mom. Let’s go Kev, practice isn’t over yet.” Nick was baffled and started sputtering because why the fuck should I be the one careful? It’s your team’s fault! while “Kev” groans.

As Chris flies back onto the pitch, Nick glances towards the tall boy and realizes he hasn’t introduced himself. “You know my name but I don’t know yours, I feel at a disadvantage.”

Nick gets that sunny smile again, “Kevin Thomas, seventh year Gryffindor.”

“Well, Kevin Thomas, seventh-year Gryffindor,” Nick says standing up gathering his books, “thanks for the save.”

“No problem, Nick,” Kevin answers as he mounted his broom and flew himself off the ground with practiced ease, his lips quirking upwards. “Like I said, any damage to that face would be a tragedy.”

“Ha, ha, mock the veela,” Nick says dryly. “Funny.”

Kevin gives him another casual shrug. “Who’s joking? Your face is pretty. Trust me I have spent a lot of time staring at it. Veela or not, that’s just a fact. Later, Nick.”

Nick stares after the boy with his mouth slightly parted in shock at the boy’s comment, he feels himself go red, but as he takes the steps down he can’t help the small smile on his face.

***

It seems now that they have introduced themselves, Kevin is everywhere in the castle. Nick’s sitting with Matt and Chris at the Hufflepuff table in the great hall, munching on their breakfast while trying to ignore the stares of girls from every house table when Kevin walks by with a group of Gryffindor seventh-years.

“Morning, Nick,” Kevin says, slowing his stride when he spots Nick. “You look lovely today,” Kevin continues, still walking but body always facing Nick even when his group has already passed by. He makes a self-satisfied smile when Nick chokes on his juice. “Enjoy your breakfast.” He finally notices the two same faces looking at him with confusion, “Chris. Matt.” Both said boys nod at him and voice their own greetings.

Nick watches him stop, swallowing hard when Kevin throws him a wink over his shoulder as he sits at his table. He notices that Kevin lets his locs hang loose today, differing from when he first met him. His locs reach his shoulder with a few strands adorned with gold jewelry. Nick turns back to his brothers red-faced, his stomach doing weird flips and jumping jacks to find them staring at him hard.

“What the hell was that?” Matt asks, the first one to recover while Chris still stares at him wide-eyed. “Why is Kevin Thomas hitting on you?”

“He’s not hitting on me,” Nick argues, sounding weak even to his own ears. Chris snorts causing Nick to make a disgruntled face at him.

“Oh shit, why does Nick look grumpier than usual?” Madi asks as he comes to sit down next to him.

Nick opens his mouth to also argue that comment, but Chris beats him to the punch.

“Kevin Thomas has a crush on Nick,” he blurts out loudly and Nick cringes, stooping down when more than one person around them looks over at them.

“Chris,” he hisses. “Shut up.”

“He said you looked lovely, bro,” Matt adds in and Madi squealed.

“Oh shit, that means my own bro thinks I look lovely, ugh,” Chris pretends to hurl at that.

“Damn, Nick, you pulled Kevin Thomas!” Madi lets out a high pitched squeal again, ducking when Nick half-heartedly tries to slap the back of her head. Nick could hear a couple murmurs and whispers from around the table and he wishes he could jump from the nearest tower.

“Guys, shut the fuck up. We literally just met a few days ago, how can he be into me?” Nick grumbles.

Both Matt and Chris snort in front of him. “You’re acting as if we don’t genetically attract people,” Matt says with a nonchalant tone. Nick ignores the slight pinch on his chest at that remark.

Chris adds, “Yeah, even Madi had a crush on us.”

“That was literally when I was a first year, can you shut up!” The fourth year Hufflepuff whines while the brothers let out a roar of laughter, embarrassed remembering her silly little crush on her best friends years ago. The triplets met Madi as a third year when she was just a first year fresh out of the sorting hat. They were at the great hall chatting when a tiny and meek girl gave them love letters then ran away. The boys at first were apprehensive with her as they were with any girl who throws themselves at them, but after she got closer to them and saw their antics, which sometimes involve burping on her face and throwing food from the dining hall at each other, she knew she just loved them as friends, and the boys did too.

“Wait, you know him?” Nick questions, ignoring the ‘duh’ look Madi throws his way. “How? I get that both Chris and Matt know him because they both play Quidditch, but what about you?”

“Everyone knows him, maybe if you join us when we watch Quidditch matches once in a while, you’ll also know that he’s one of the best chasers competing now. He’s super fast,” Madi divulges while taking a bite of the roasted chicken, judging her best friend for being the hermit that he is.

Chris nods, “That’s true, I’m so lucky he’s a Gryffindor.”

“Hufflepuff is still gonna beat your ass though in the next match. With Thomas or not,” Matt says with pride and a smug smile as a beater of the Hufflepuff team, prompting them to argue and yap for the next few minutes which Nick is used to tuning out as one with no interest at all in the sport.

Madi also had no interest in hearing them banter so she turned towards Nick with a smirk, “So, how did you meet him?”

Nick explains to her the bludger incident and Kevin’s comments after he saved him. Madi listens with a concentration she reserves for when they gossip, and everytime he tells her about anything Kevin said to Nick, she’s fully convinced that the tall boy most definitely has a crush on Nick. He doesn’t want to admit it but god did it feed his delusions.

They continued eating and as the minutes tick away, conversations dwindle and students start to filter out, drawn towards their impending classes. Nick remembers that he hasn’t done his Charms homework and lets out a long quiet “Fuck”.

“I’m gonna go, I want to stop by the library before Charms. Bye guys,” Nick walks to leave the great hall, feeling a stare on him that he knows isn’t his brothers’ or any of his admirers’ but a pretty boy with deep dark eyes.

***

A part of him isn’t exactly surprised when he walks out of the library and finds Kevin leaning against a wall across from him. The Gryffindor ditched his robe so he was only wearing his white shirt and grey sweater, highlighting his broad chest.

“Hey Nick,” Kevin greets him again, pushing against the wall to stand up straight to his full height, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Kevin,” Nick acknowledges, grateful he doesn’t stammer even though his heart raced faster than any chaser known at the sight of the boy.

Kevin smiles, falling into step. “Going to Charms?” he asks. Nick nods trying not to read too much into Kevin knowing what his next class is. “I’ll walk you.”

“Don’t you have a class of your own to get to?” Nick can’t help but question, even though he’s secretly thrilled at spending a little more time with the boy.

“I have time,” Kevin answers just as easily.

“Okay.”

They walk silently towards the charms corridor on the second floor with only a few sneaky glances from both of them. As they climb the stairs, a group of fourth year Gryffindor girls walk by, giggling as they spot Nick, making him sigh. Kevin chuckles next to him and Nick shoots him an irritated look that makes him laugh even harder.

“That happens a lot?” Kevin questions moving closer to him as the girls get closer.

“More than I would like,” Nick says, ignoring one of the bolder girls, Emma, who stops on the steps and tries to give him some really awkward bedroom eyes. Nick was never one to hide his judgements so he stares back at her and cringes. Kevin takes a step even closer to him, his hand brushing against Nick’s as he does so. Startled, Nick looks up at him with wide eyes, but Kevin ignores him and instead stares at Emma until she huffs and keeps moving.

Once she’s left, Kevin doesn’t move away but continues to walk with Nick up the stairs, his hand continues to brush Nick’s and he swallows hard when in one brush Kevin hooks his pinky with his.

“There are worse things than being popular with girls,” Kevin comments like he isn’t practically holding Nick’s hand and Nick isn’t screaming in his own head.

“You would know, do you?” Nick teases back, noticing that some of the girls were looking at the taller as well. Kevin laughs at that then made an arrogant shrug.

“It is when you know it’s because of your biology,” Nick answers the previous question and in a bold attempt, moves to intertwine more of their fingers together. He lets out a small puff of breath when Kevin doesn’t pull away and he sneaks a peek at Kevin to find his gentle eyes gazing into his blue ones deeply.

“Besides,” Nick continues to brave. “Girls aren’t really my thing.”

Nick looks down to hide his blush when that gets him another tender smile.

***

Nick isn’t sure how he finds himself a few weeks later back in the library with Kevin sitting across from him.

That’s a lie, Nick and Kevin talk everyday ever since Kevin walked him to his Charms class. Small comments in the great hall turn to full blown conversations with Kevin sitting next to him and his brothers, and the taller boy walking him to class became a routine now with Kevin even holding his books for him. Next thing he knew, studying alone became study dates.

Kevin is working on his Herbology homework while Nick works on Transfiguration. At least he’s trying to work on it, Headmistress McGonagall likes to pop into her old class from time to time and Nick liked to be on his game, but he found that it was kind of difficult when there was a pretty boy in front of him who keeps knocking his feet against his.

The warm library lighting illuminates Kevin’s skin, casting a gentle glow that highlights the intricate gold jewelry intertwined with his locs. Today, his hair is done in a half-up half-down hairstyle with a few strands in the front left untied. His brows are furrowed with concentration and his hands are diligently taking notes, veins popping up more than usual. Nick undeniably loves serious Kevin.

“You’re staring,” Kevin murmurs without looking up from his book, his quill in hand. He looked at Nick from under his eyelashes, his lips quirking upwards. In the gentle flicker of the warm candlelight, Nick can see how those dark eyes ignite, the candle fire dancing on those irises.

You’re playing footsies with me, Nick wants to shoot back, but instead he shifts his foot, letting it slowly trail up Kevin’s leg and it’s Nick’s turn to grin when Kevin’s breath hitches and stares at him in surprise.

Nick gives him a challenging look that says ‘two can play this game’ and Nick watches, his face red as Kevin bites down on his plush lip to control his grin.

“So,” Kevin starts hesitantly and Nick frowns because it’s not a word he’s waiting to hear. He would much rather hear words along the lines of “hide” and “kiss”.

“Yeah?”

“Hogsmeade weekend coming up, are you going?”

Nick can feel a smile tugging at his lips as he watches Kevin fidget with his quill, getting some ink on his fingers. “I was planning on it.”

Kevin licks his lips as he looks at Nick. “Are you planning on going with anyone?”

Nick smirks at that, letting a small chuckle when Kevin narrows his eyes playfully at him. “Usually I would go with my brothers and friends, but Matt and Chris are both going with their housemates and Madi’s going with her boyfriend, soooo I’m all by myself unless somebody comes up and offers to accompany my lonely self.”

He stares back at the other calmly, grinning when Kevin lets out a huff. “You’re teasing me.”

Nick mockingly points at himself. “Me? Never.”

Kevin rolls his eyes but is smiling widely. “I don’t even know why I like you so much, you’re a brat,” Kevin says, the fondness in his voice taking any sting away from the words. Kevin sets aside his book and quill to give all his attention to Nick. “Will you go with me?”

Nick looks at Kevin for another moment, taking in the way Kevin looks at him with a hopeful expression, like the possibility of Nick wanting to spend time with him at Hogsmeade will make his day or more. Suddenly feeling shy, Nick nods.

Kevin rewards him with a beaming grin.

***

“So your mum’s a half-veela, and your dad’s a muggle-born?” Kevin asks as he and Nick walk leisurely through the chilly streets of Hogsmeade, other students walking by, coming in and out of shops. A few nod in their direction and some whisper but luckily none approach either of them, letting Nick enjoy Kevin all to himself.

“Yup. My mom’s from Portugal but she chose to go to Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons because her family hates the French,” the other chuckles, “and thanks to her, she met this silly irish-italian bloke at school who is my dad.”

“Well, say thanks to your mum and her family for me,” Kevin says and winking. Nick honest to god giggles like a little girl at that.

“What about you? What’s your family like?” Nick asks back as he bumps into Kevin when a group of third years excited to be out of the castle rush past him. Kevin puts his arm around his shoulder, pulling him close to him and away from the crowd, his arm stays on his shoulder once the group has passed and Nick finds himself being bold and snaking his arm around Kevin’s waist. Nick looks up at the taller boy who’s sporting a small shy smile.

Kevin tilts his head, “Way less interesting than yours. Dad’s a half-blood and mum’s a full-blood. Both went to Hogwarts but never met each other here. Both came to London for work where they met then they gave birth to yours truly,” he refers to himself with a curtsy, Nick wonders whether he has ever laughed this much with anyone. “Oh, and my dad fought in the second wizarding war. He was friends with Harry Potter.”

“What?! Enough about me, that fact is already cooler than any of my family lines!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, my dad’s pretty cool. Always grateful he survived and met my mum. If not, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Nick admits, his cheeks tinted pink.

Kevin stops walking, with his arm still around Nick, he leans in, his forehead brushing Nick’s hair. “Me too.”

Nick clears his throat when Kevin pulls away, his face burns more than ever before. “So, where are we going?”

“What are you feeling?”

Nick gives Kevin a teasing look. “Wow, you asked me out and you don’t even have a plan? So much for feeling special.”

“You’re very special,” Kevin answers honestly instead of responding to the teasing and Nick rolls his eyes but can’t stop the wide smile from taking over his face.

“How about Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop?”

Nick makes a face at the suggestion causing Kevin to laugh at him.

“Wow,” Kevin says, still chuckling, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “That’s a no.”

“That place is so tacky.”

Kevin shakes his head, “It’s supposed to be romantic, you don’t want to hold my hand over tea in a place with steamed up windows?”

“I can hold your hand right now,” Nick answers, demonstrating by doing just that. “See?”

Kevin looks down at their joined hands and then back at him, his expression pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah,” he says softly, squeezing Nick’s hand before they start walking again. “How about the Three Broomsticks then we go to Honeydukes?”

Nick nods, “Now you’re talking.”

***

After they got butterbeers at Three Broomsticks and picked up some candy at Honeydukes, Nick and Kevin walk slowly back towards the castle, this time with Nick’s arm curling around Kevin’s bicep.

Nick is sucking on a liquorice wand, while Kevin gambles with his taste buds with a bag of every flavor beans, Nick finds himself watching Kevin, giggling every time he makes a face about a new undesirable flavor.

“What was that one?”

“I think tripe,” Kevin answers wrinkling his nose at the taste playing it up to make Nick laugh again. “How’s yours?”

Nick gives the liquorice wand a lick before sucking on it some more, he smirks around the candy when he sees Kevin’s eyes drift down to his mouth, Nick stops and comes to stand in front of Kevin pulling the candy out of his mouth. “Better than yours, want a taste, get the tripe flavor out of your mouth?”

“Sure,” Kevin answers, reaching for Nick’s candy but Nick pulls it out of reach while stepping closer to the other. Going on his toes, he leans up brushing his lips against Kevin’s, once, twice, three times, his eyes open to watch Kevin’s reaction, taking in the way Kevin’s eyes widen and his breath shortens. Nick starts to pull back down when Kevin is spurted into action, his large hands come up and cradle Nick’s head, his fingers sinking into Nick’s brown hair, his lips slated over Nick’s, making a noise as he chases the sweet taste in Nick’s mouth.

Nick sighs into the kiss, his hands going to Kevin’s sides to steady himself, suddenly feeling lightheaded as Kevin takes his time with the kiss.

When Kevin pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed against Nick’s, his nose brushing his and he smiles that same beaming smile he gave Nick the first time on the pitch. “You’re right, tastes much better.”

***

Nick is sitting with Matt and Madi again for breakfast, this time at the Gryffindor table which is buzzing with excitement for the upcoming match versus Slytherin. Chris is sitting next to them with the Gryffindor quidditch team, giving a pep talk to motivate the team and discuss strategies.

“I’m kinda offended you never watch my games but you jump to watch the first one now that you have a boyfriend,” Matt says.

Nick lets out a long groan, “Ugh, fine, I’ll watch your matches next time. Don’t expect me to enjoy it though, the supporters are barbaric.”

“You’re going to root for me, right?” Nick hears a familiar voice and turns around in his seat to find Kevin already dressed in his quidditch uniform standing behind him, his expression warm as he looks down at Nick. It’s been over a week since their date and they’ve spent every free moment together and yet Nick can’t believe this boy with his pretty smile and gentleness for him is for Nick to keep.

“Hi, Kevin!” Madi greets him loudly, interrupting Nick and Kevin’s staring. Nick watches as Kevin looks amused at his best friend and greets her back, extending his hellos to Matt who nods at him. Kevin straddles the bench Nick is sitting on, leaning in close to him.

“So,” Kevin starts, his expression teasing. “You are going to root for me, right?”

“Root for you?” Nick repeats in a mocking tone. "Against my own house? I know loyalty isn't the first trait you think of when you hear Slytherin, but I assure you we are, sorry but I'll be rooting for you to fall off your broom."

Kevin makes an exaggerated gasp at that, drawing the attention of a few students. "We’re not gonna be able to make out if I get hurt, you really want that?"

“You’re forgetting I’m a veela, I can kiss anyone.”

"None as good as me though," Kevin replies with a grin of his own, hands reaching and body leaning forward to grab a muffin.

Nick takes advantage of how close it puts Kevin to him that he leans in and presses a soft kiss against Kevin’s jaw. He smiles against the skin as Kevin brings his arm around Nick, pulling him close. He kisses him again, this time at the corner of Kevin’s mouth, enjoying the way it makes Kevin smile.

“Good luck,” he whispers against Kevin’s lips.

“Thanks, baby,” Kevin whispers, giving him a soft lingering kiss before he stands up and walks away.

Nick watches as he walks over to his teammates who are waiting for him, some hooting and hollering while Chris cringes. When he turns around he finds more than one person staring his way, but he doesn’t mind, he’s gotten used to the stares for a long time. Instead he looks back to Matt and Madi, rolling his eyes at the amused smiles they are giving him.

“You two are sickening,” Matt teases while Madi is silently screaming into the air.

***

They head for the pitch each going for their respective stands, by the time Nick has taken a seat, the teams are already on their brooms circling the pitch waiting for the whistle to be blown. As soon its blows there is loud cheering in the stands as Slytherin grabs the quaffle first, followed by hissing and booing when Kevin manages to recover the ball and heads for the hoops, the booing in the Slytherin stands gets louder as he scores, but Nick allows himself a smile at Kevin’s skill.

The game continues, each team evenly matched and always within a couple of points from each other, Nick can see the seekers searching for the golden snitch hoping to win and end the game for their team. Nick is more than ready for the game to finish. He loves his house and is proud to be Slytherin but he knows how aggressive they are about winning and now that they have realized just how good Kevin is at scoring, he’s become their focus, more than once a Slytherin player has tried to throw him off his broom and if the game drags any longer he has a feeling they are going to get their way.

Nick isn’t done thinking that when a Slytherin beater hits a bludger straight for Kevin, Nick watches in horror as Kevin who hasn’t noticed the ball headed for him gets slammed from behind.

“Kevin!” he yells, his scream drowned out from the cheers in the stands. He gasps, watching helplessly as the hit causes Kevin to slip off his broom. His heart beats loudly as Kevin manages to hold on at the last second, one hand gripping his broom as he dangles in the air. Kevin’s teammates rush to help, forming a line of defense to allow Kevin to get back on his broom. Nick holds his breath the seconds it takes Kevin to get seated again, letting it out once he’s back on safely. He watches as Chris talks to Kevin and whatever is said Kevin answers with a sharp nod, his face determined. Nick’s nerves are on edge for the rest of the game and when the Gryffindor’s seeker captures the snitch he isn’t disappointed about his team’s loss, he’s just happy that it’s over. The wide smile on Kevin’s face that he can see even from the stands doesn’t hurt either.

***

Nick is waiting outside the Gryffindor’s locker room, ignoring the looks more than one Gryffindor sends his way as they wait to celebrate with their team. A cheer goes up when the team walks out and Nick presses himself against the wall to avoid the surge, he waits but doesn’t have to wait long. Kevin spots him over the crowd and heads for him, nodding and smiling absently as his housemates congratulate him. He comes to stand in front of Nick with a smile on his face and Nick studies him, his handsome face, his kind eyes, he stands tall and beautiful.

Nick pushes himself off the wall and wraps his arms around him, his nose pressed into the crook of Kevin’s neck, he sighs as he’s enveloped in Kevin’s warmth when he returns the hug. He presses himself even closer, still letting out another happy sound that Kevin answers with a small chuckle as he runs his hands up and down Nick’s back.

“You scared the fuck out of me,” he murmurs.

“Your housemate’s fault.”

Nick pulls back to look up at Kevin’s face. “I’m hexing the fuck out of them, my brothers will help me.”

Kevin lets out an infectious laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “My hero.”

“Damn straight,” Nick answers, grinning. “You’re alright, though?”

“Yeah,” Kevin answers softly. “There’s going to be a hell of a bruise on my back, but other than that I’m fine.”

“Good,” Nick lets out a relieved sigh, lifting his head in a silent request he smiles when Kevin gives him a soft kiss. “I should probably let you go, I’m sure you want to celebrate with your team.”

Kevin shakes his head, holding onto Nick. “Nope, I want to celebrate with my pretty boyfriend. What do you say we sneak into the kitchen for something sweet and then we find a quiet corner in this big castle to make out in?”

Nick grins, a laugh bubbling out of him, feeling happier than he’s ever felt. “That sounds like a plan.”

#nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfiction #nick sturniolo x oc #nick sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #madi filipowicz #sturniolo triplets imagine

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the-s1lly-corner · 9 months

Note

Helloo! I hope you’re having a good day!

I have a request! ^^ (i literally love your writing sm!) I was wondering if you can do head canons of Laughing Jack x Tomie Kawakami like reader? Like the reader having Tomies powers and her beauty?

Please take care of yourself and drink a lot of water! <33

LJ w/ a S/O who's like Tomie!

YAHOO!! this just reminds me i need to get back into junji itos stuff :O i got a physical copy of uzumaki last year; loved it!! gotta reread it soon and dive into the other stuff !!! i admit i haven't read tomie's bits yet, my only info/exposure to her is based around how she was in the anime adaptations, an infodump from a friend ab 3-4 years ago, and a character wiki so i apologize in advance for any inaccurates/misunderstandings on how the abilities work! other than that, i hope you enjoy!

Im not even going to lie I think this dude would think it's a little amusing how people will literally commit dozens of crimes just for you to look their way

i personally dont think he would be affected by your natural seduction thing, mostly in part due to him not being a human, he still thinks your pretty!

he probably calls you doll or some other variation of it because of your appearance

that said lj does have a bit of a jealousy problem, even without a partner that automatically charms everyone around them. bro has abandonment issues and doesnt like sharing at all. sure, hell try to look past it but he hates the way other people fawn and swoon! depending on what kind of reader we're going with, say, one that also k(r)ills for one reason or another he'll *try* to keep it together but boy, does it get hard when you feed into the people's insanity

but that's probably a whole thing for another post since you specified abilities :O!! not sure if you wanted the s/o to fully lean into it or do something else

so some other ideas to fill the post !

first time he sees you die he will freak out

he doesnt know youll come back, and as morbid and horrible sounds he'd probably hang on to your corpse until you just

pop back

funny joke haha thing imagine he's lamenting over you and you just. pop back up all "aww you love me :3??"

love little haha funny shit like that

anyways

overall it doesnt mix well with his jealousy and stuff, he doesnt like sharing! nope, not at all

but perhaps you can win him over with some much needed affection and a lotta reassurance

in several ways

winks

god no because

idk

my brain is melting as we speak im so sorry

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #laughing jack headcanons #laughing jack x reader

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29625 · 2 months

Text

Forensic artist! Slider x FBI investigator! Mav AU WIP I’ve been hatching for a while.

Inspired by the UID community and its talented volunteers and professionals who contribute to the beautiful, humanizing facial reconstruction of some of the decedents! The case isn’t particularly based on the real event but rather a creation of a mish-mash of many different cases as well as fictional details.

Paring: Slider x Maverick, with forensic sculptor! Ice and FBI investigator! Goose.

Rating: Teen and up for now. Might throw some sexy stuff later.

Warning: graphic description of violence, dead body & suicide (no major character death). Very inaccurate description of how law enforcement works in the US (I’ll fix it later! Sry! Please let me know if there are something you’re familiar with because that’d help a lot!)

In 1991, a case reopens in San Diego, California. The case where a White woman aged between 30-45 was found deceased in a wooded area with a gunshot wound in her head in 1978.

She was not facially recognizable with decomposition and animal activities, as well as the wound inflicted by the impact of close proximity gunshot. A medical examination concluded she had large amount of alcohol and some sleep medicine in her system at the time of her death, possibly making her disoriented, and the purse containing her personal belongings left at the scene had a empty bottle of pills whose label had been scratched off.

She cut all tags off from her clothes which consist of a polka dot summer dress, a pair of white heeled sandals (size 5), blue bra and a white underpants with laces, all found on the decedent’s body except for one of her sandals, possibly due to animal activities as observed in her post-mortem scars on her right leg. She was approximately 5’ to 5’3 inches tall and weighed about 140 lbs. She had fair complexion with chin-length red hair, naturally straight and styled curly, but the advanced state of her decomposition hindered the examiners to determine her eye color.

The location she was found is close to the region where prostitutes and hitchhikers frequent and she is theorized to be particularly familiar with the area, suggesting she had been working in sex trade in San Diego area.

Even though she carried no ID or tax stamps, receipts, or credit cards with her at the time of her death, a possible clue to her identity was found in her purse, which is a piece of paper (approx. 4 inches wide and 1.6 inches long) with the message following:

I love you so much Jannie/Jennie/Jamie (the exact words differ depending on the sources) .

I can’t be there anymore but I’ll always love you & wish you the best.

To people this may concern Im [sic] sorry for every-thing [sic]. xxxx

The message was scribbled with a blue-ink pen, but it lacked her signature and nobody with the name in the letter has come forward after the initial information was released in California region.

It is theorized that the person in the letter is either her friend, family (possibly a sibling or a husband) or her child, who she might have been estranged with at the time of her death.

No foul play is suspected in her case and her death has been concluded as a suicide by gunshot.

“….And we’re renewing her facial approximation, which hasn’t been updated since the initial discovery.” Pete scans the case file containing the composite—a basic photomontage. Her silent face is devoid of any emotions he can tell right away, frozen in time, something he’s so used to seeing. “Right. Well, we gotta contact Tom about this.”

Tom Kazansky from Los Angeles Police Department. He’s a forensic anthropologist who specializes in sculpture. A great contributor of his and Nick’s cases with an ice-cold precision, he’s also been a close friend of them—with his great dedication for his job and his deadbeat sense of humor.

“About that.” Nick interjects. “I don’t think we can, Pete. Or we should, for that matter.”

“Why not?” Pete asks, slightly frustrated but mostly surprised at the statement. “We’re lacking a good reconstruction and he’s the best candidate we’ve ever got.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Nick says with a small shrug. “But he’s on a family leave, remember?”

Oh.

Oh, right. Now he remembers.

“Good for him, yeah?” Nick smiles. “A kid is such a bundle of joy. I still think of the day Brad came home with my sweetest wife whenever I’m feeling low.”

“Shit, Nicky.” Pete groans as he rubs his face with his hand. Maybe two months without a break really does something to his memory. “I can’t believe I forgot that, man. I even sent some gifts for him back in October.”

“Workaholic.”

“Yo, shut up.”

He playfully smacks Nick’s head as they leave. The perk of having a witty partner is he never gets bored at work—with a side effect of never getting a break.

Finding another forensic artist was, to his surprise, a smooth process. Tom has assigned a substitute while he was away, taking care of his wife and his newborn baby girl.

Ron Kerner.

A forensic artist at LAPD, working in Tom’s lab. His portfolio shows a series of drawings of people. He seems to have worked on both the composites of criminals and victims, with him predominantly working on the identification of latter.

Flipping through the thick file, he reaches to the section titled ‘John & Jane Does’. And—damn, how lively and colorful those portraits are.

They are all smiling, some of their grins are wider than others with a more sly-looking expression. There are four comparisons between a then-unidentified person and their living photos, and Ron seems to have captured their unique facial features on point while…humanizing them, however tragic their last moments may have been.

Talented, indeed. Pretty empathetic, he might add. No wonder Tom has assigned his role to him.

“Bradshaw!”

A voice echoes in the hall as they finish talking to the receptionist. Nick turns around and waves back with a big grin on his face.

The man stands in front of them. He’s muscular, slightly shorter than Nick yet still way taller than Pete himself. Towering, but his relaxed stance makes him seem friendly, combined with the toothy grin on his angular face. His curly brown hair complements his tanned skin. Judging from the way he presents himself, Pete assumes he’s not a visitor here.

“Hey bud!” Nick says and shakes hands with the man. “Still dwelling in the lab, huh?”

“Oh you shut your pretty mouth, dickhead.” He chuckles almost affectionately.

“Pete, this is Ron. Ron Kerner from LAPD. Ron, this is Pete. Pete Mitchell.”

Ron Kerner.

The man looks at Pete and reaches out his hand, which he’s quick to shake.

“I really liked your portfolio.”

Pete mutters almost instinctively as he shakes his hand, realizing how awkward he sounds a moment later. Ron looks at him with slightly widened eyes, curiosity flickering in his beautiful hazel irises.

“Uh, I mean…I’m Pete Mitchell. Call me Pete.”

“Thanks.” Ron says with a smile with a tinge of shyness on the corners of his droopy eyes, although well-concealed by his bold voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pete. Tommy always talks about you guys.”

“Yeah.” Pete answers as their hands part, leaving a pleasant warmth on his cold skin. “Pleasure to meet you, too, Mr. Kerner.”

“Hey, Ron’s just fine.” He says. “We’re about the same age, right? Don’t make me feel old.”

“You can call him Ronnie if you want, Pete.” Nick says. “Bet you’ll get along just fine. He’s just as immature as you.”

“What did you say, jackass?”

Their eyes shot at each other as their voices almost synchronize, much to Nick’s amusement.

“Damn it, Nick!”

“Shit, Bradshaw.” Ron mutters at Nick’s smirking face that Pete’s so familiar with at this point of his career. “Let me be cool and act like an adult in front of this guy, alright?”

“Ha! Jokes on you, Kerner. You’ve already said dickhead like you always do.” Nick teases. “C’mon, Pete. You think he’s mature? With his taste in jokes like that? Betcha get along well, darling. Already in synch.”

Ron pouts at Nick with a small pfft sound, a gesture he didn’t think a guy this big could pull off.

“Get along well, huh?” Pete chuckles, lightly patting Ron on the shoulder.

“Great start, I guess.” He grins. “Though I can’t wrap my head around how you tolerate this bastard.”

“Me neither, man.”

Ron barks out a laugh as Nick pokes Pete on the arm, grumbling at how the table has turned.

Ron Kerner.

Today was the first time they’ve met. He’d been faceless to Pete for almost a month, ever since they first called in the most basic business-like manner, talking about grown-up stuff, in contrast to the almost overwhelming amount of portraits he sent him.

“Hey, Nick?”

“What?”

“Can you see an artist in his own work?”

Nick blinks a little, his eyes briefly shot up from the road. They are on their way to go back to their office in his car, idly listening to the local radio as the town passes.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Pete stretches his arms and loops them around the headrest. “It’s weird, I know.”

“I thought you lost your mind and decided to be a philosopher instead.” Nick says. “But I guess you can.”

“How?”

A few seconds of silence filled the car before Nick speaks, absentmindedly stroking his mustache.

“A part of your soul leaves your body to live in the world of your art, forever.” Nick mutters. “I don’t know, Pete. That’s just how I feel. A part of me becomes something not mine, and he dances with the music as I play it.”

Pete can only nod in response. Nick has always been enthusiastic about music. Tom has been artistic, too. He’s a professional artist as well as being a full-time officer, for God’s sake.

“I guess that’s true for Ron, y’know.” Nick says. “Considering the subjects he deals with daily.”

His fingers skim through the pictures. A Black teenager with shoulder-length braids, grinning widely in her denim overalls. A middle-aged Hispanic man with a box of tobaccos in his hand, smiling softly. One of the portraits depicts a woman and a child, possibly her son, chin-up and looking serene together in the wind.

“Ron’s a good guy, Pete.” Nick smiles and shoots a knowing gaze at his partner in the passenger seat. “I wasn’t joking when I said you’d get along.”

“Yeah.” He answers, lowering his eyes in approval. “I suppose so.”

He closes the file and traces the black lettering on the back of it.

Ron Kerner, it says.

Lined in ink, detailed with colored pencils and some markers. Pete can still feel the strokes of his pencils under his fingertips.

#slimav #ron slider kerner #top gun fanfiction #slider x maverick #top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #ao3 writer #Forensic artist! AU #Sorry for any inaccuracies #my parents used to binge watch Criminal Minds and ER and that’s pretty much the only exposure to police/medicine things #also I think Mac Taylor from CSI NY is an absolute sexy king don’t judge me #tom iceman kazansky #nick goose bradshaw #a deep dive into my thoughts on how resentful I am for Rick never getting enough screen time he deserved #29625’s top gun fics

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the-martyrfication-of-the-matron · 3 months

Note

Any gender and pronoun headcanons you care to share?

i have not gotten so many hc asks in one day before its making me very happy. (i have not answered some of them sorry :( )

whether characters are trans or cis is usually up to interpretation. but those where i think their AGAb does factor into their identity/how i write them, i will say so

also, this is just vibes and whatever. like. im explaining their gender how i understand it. i know like two terms for gender. yes and no.

anyways

Avra/Aphmau. Gender = whatever you perceive. typically that's she/her, due to her being very feminine presenting, but sometimes someone'll smell the gender-fluidity and say something else. based off of me bc its fun. Any pronouns. Skinchanger, which may impact it.

Garroth. Gender = a man but only bc he was told so. What would he identify as if he felt confident enough to explore his identity? Who knows. but he was told he was a dude, so that's what he's sticking with. May be confused if you refer to him with she/her pronouns, but he's not uncomfortable with it. He/him, maybe he/She, AMAB.

Laurence. Gender = if a woman was a man. He's a dude, but in the way a woman would be. He/she/they.

Aaron. Gender = He is babygirl. His pronouns are she/her (reference). his gfs will refer to him using solely feminine terminology. his actual identity? no one knows. he doesnt. and it shouldn't matter bc you shouldn't be talking about him anyways. He feels very she/her to me, but i instinctively refer to him as he/him. Settling on She/he but it feels inaccurate.

Katelyn. Gender = girl? maybe? she's not sure. She/her but maybe She/they? Mostly feminine terminology, but does enjoy masc honourifics more (sir, dad, husband, etc.)

Travis. Gender = the manliest man. he/him, AFAB. Shapeshifter, doesn't impact his gender at all.

Lucinda. Gender = tits. She/her, refers to her tits as 'the girls'. Whether or not she is a girl by extension is not the point.

Nicole. Gender = i refer to him as Nico(le) on discord. Afab, He/Him, mega fucking buff. Was pretending to be a twink as of s1, then had to come out as a girl, and then showed up as a bear in s2, because he's a big strong man. Dmitri still calls him mom, though, which was Nico's idea in the first place, just because it felt more fitting.

there are more characters, i just am gonna settle here bc this is long enough already. if there's any specific characters you want gender or sexuality hcs for, just ask :)

#aphmau #aphverse #aphblr

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snalz-artt · 10 months

Text

forgot to post this doodle SAY HELLO to the shittiest bbc ghosts/mcyt au ever conceived, thankyou @/luigra for helping hehe

i have A LOT to say so its going under the cut this is soso silly

basic bbc ghosts plot: A young woman inherits a huge mansion estate in england from a dubious familial connection and moves in with her husband. They plan to renovate the manor and guesthouses to make into a hotel/venue, but when she falls out a window and almost dies, she comes back to life with the ability to See Ghosts. With the house being very historic, there are quite a few interesting characters (the falling out the window thing might be their fault, actually). Hijinks ensue.

———

CLEO: Cleo is the Allison of the story, she inherits the house and falls out the window, now.. undead(?) they can see and interact with the cast of Ghosts they’re now stuck with. Making ZombieCleo one of the Alive characters was too funny, sorry.

SCOTT: Scott is Mike!! Cleo’s best friend/partner/chosen soulmate (like in double life), he Cannot see the ghosts but completely trusts they exist.

They get up to various antics as they try to renovate and market the place, usually while being hindered or helped by the ghosts. I haven’t thought of a good pun on the name Button House yet though..

The ghosts are not all from any specific series, but a selection of ghosts/dead characters from multiple mcyt sources ^^

JOE: Joseph Hills takes the role of Thomas Thorne. He is a dramatic regency era poet who mostly follows Cleo around, trying to impress her with his… unique poetry, that was considered before his time. Their ghost theming comes from Beetlejhost of course.

RANBOO: Ronald Booth is Pat, a 1980’s Scout Leader. To be honest, this is just because Ranboo is very associated with the 80’s aesthetic and can fit the silly yes-man subordinate role, and of course was a ghost on the dsmp (Boo).

BDUBS: Bdubs is Robin!! A caveman who lived on the land well before the house was built. He’s seen it all, which fits Bdubs’ storyteller theme!! This is also just a fun visual choice because instead of wearing animal furs he gets to wear a big mossy coat. He also talks in a quite a unique and funny way which could replace how Robin talks like. Yknow, a Caveman. There was also a tiny bit in.. last life? Where bdubs was a ghost? (We were running out of ghosts at this point.)

SLIME: Charles Slime is Humphrey Bone, a headless tudor nobleman!!! Slime has a pretty constant track record of dying dramatically in mcyt (dsmp, epic smp, slimecicle cinematic universe) hence getting to be a ghost here. He has a lot of comedy that i think fits pretty well with being a ghost and with the visual humour of having your body separate to your head <3

FLIPPA: Juanaflippa as Jemima!!! I had to get one of the Eggs in here, even if i dont know much about qsmp at this point its just too perfect for one of them to be Jemima, since we have Charlie why not have Juanaflippa ^^ This can fit the common bbc ghosts fanon of Humphrey being found family for Jemima, with Charlie and Flippa’s father-daughter relationship. Creepy little singing ghost girl!!!

QUACKITY/MEXICAN DREAM: Yeah ok we were really running out of mcyt ghosts at this point, if you dont know anything about the dsmp you would probably think im making this up- uh, quackity plays him, he died and became a very prominent dsmp ghost. He takes the role of Julian as a 90’s politician character (like quackity/md in el rapids etc) here. I GUESS.

GHOSTBUR: Im pretty sure that while alive Kitty didnt blow up a country or whatever but the innocent and kind character of ghostbur fits the role of Kitty pretty well, with both having poor/inaccurate memories of their lives and being very sweet. A georgian noblewoman! Instead of Kitty he’d be called Willy or something. That way one of the ghosts can still have an innuendo name. Thats important.

JIMMY: Jimmy (James) as Mary. A stuart era peasant who got burned in the witch trials. He could still have the power to make people smell smoke, i think it fits the canary thing a bit. AND SPOILERS FOR BBC GHOSTS, Mary being the First Ghost of the main group to get.. sucked away is just too perfect. While never explicitly being a Ghost, Jimmy has such a connection to death that i think im justified.

PIX: Pixie as Fanny!!! He used to own the house many years ago and is now a ghost that really wants it to be perfectly historically preserved. Pix was a ghost in empires s2 and an archeologist who wanted to preserve history of course, so this fits the really proper and old fashioned personality of Fanny pretty well. Also her love of animals fits pix having the ghost cat and the dodos…

SCHLATT: Schlatt as The Captain, a repressed gay ww2 Captain who never actually saw any combat. He can fit the leader role that the Captain does, especially the fact that he just assumes himself the leader, and the others kind of don't take him seriously. Schlatt was a ghost, Glatt, on the dsmp! He will be a bit less.. nice? Than the bbc ghosts captain, but could still have a good bit of development.

bonus convex as the plague ghosts, vex are kind of ghosty, right?

#art #au #mcyt #bbc ghosts #SORRY TO fans of either of these that dont know what the other is #but these r like two of my favourite medias #the thing about all the bbc ghosts characters (most brit comedy characters actually) is that they are all terrible #in their own special ways. So when i assign a mcyt to a character.. it is only out of love <3 #dream smp #<- for blacklist

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shitouttabuck · 8 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 thank u bud i’m procrastinating packing and this was fun

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

seven!

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

129,484 which is a fake number to me

3. what fandoms do you write for?

nothing has made me as insane in my life as network television procedural drama 911 on abc, so

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you can start a family who will always show you love

let the world have its way with you

my hearts over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance

like a dog with a bird at your door

i like the summer rain (i like the sounds you make)

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try very hard to because they make me so happy and it’s unbelievably kind of people to take the time to leave them!!! However i sometimes leave it too long and then worry it’s weird to reply after like. a month. which as a fic reader i wouldn’t give a shit about so idk what my problem is!!!! i will reply i will just maybe take a hot sec to do it

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i don’t have any i’m a happily ever after or bust kinda guy in my own head if nowhere else…… angstiest is probably the sound of love astounds me if only because it ends post-feelings realisation but still pre-relationship

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

they’re all so happy omg. i will say with great personal bias it’s my heart’s over-pumping but also i have. a sequel in the works….

8. do you get hate on fics?

no people have been very very very lovely but also sjjsjsjs i’ve not been here super long. the funniest comment i’ve gotten was on my first fic where someone was like i liked this but it is jarringly inaccurate as mcdonald’s in california doesn’t have a veggie burger option 😭 i cried laughing im so sorry to u americans. pls petition your local mcdonald’s to stock the mcplant it slaps

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

have written two e-rated fics….. it’s very fun but i don’t think i’m very good so i’d like to practice actually (maybe some sexy prompts after i finish the bed-sharing ones?) just the regular kind for now like i love buck and eddie desperately and am myself into a million things but i don’t know how kinky they would actually get in my own head. so just a little gross with it for now i guess

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

no that would be SICK. @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove is podficcing bucket list fic which is so very cool of her!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

no omg i don’t know how y’all do it i’m bad at group projects but also this sounds soooooo fun. if also deeply stressful

14. what’s your all time favorite ship?

if that’s synonymous with most likely to get you institutionalised, uh. gestures around us. otherwise mulder/scully and i am just now right as i’m typing this realising i’ve never ever in my life actually read x files fic what the fuck. also steve/bucky but i haven’t read fic since 2017 probably

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

listen i have not written a word for x files au past that one snip i shared forever ago. i want to soooo bad i’ve talked about it to some of you very rabidly but. it does not want to be written and if it did it would have to be so fucking long which is very daunting to me. not saying i’ve put her in the ground yet but. we might need some necromancing

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i’m pretty good at writing in character? mostly? sometimes i struggle with buck just because i think we’re very similar and i project a little and then have to go back and fix it lmao but for the most part i think i’m good at that! and i have a lot of fun writing dialogue

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

plot!!!!!! and pacing!!!!!!!!!!! also my inability to write non-linearly omg if i get stuck i just get Stuck i can’t jump ahead

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

oooh i love it and would love to include more than the teeniest bits i have but i’m so conscious about it sounding natural and not stiff to people whose language it actually is (shout out and a million kisses to @eddiebabygirldiaz for fixing the spanish in i love you like a dog!!!!!)

19. first fandom you wrote for?

911 babey!

20. favorite fic you’ve written?

my heart’s over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance !!! not just because it was the first fic i posted after joining tumblr fandom but. idk it is so so so special to me like it makes me so happy and when i think about it i’m like. hey u wrote that. good for u my dude. and also maybe i just associate it with meeting a bunch of you whjsjssjsj

tagging @callaplums @eddiebabygirldiaz @housewifebuck @rewritetheending @try-set-me-on-fire @onward--upward @anxieteandbiscuits @devirnis @athenagranted if anyone wants to do this i’m nosy soz if you already have !!!!

#tag game #if you see me posting later today. send me hate mail i need to pack

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hevanderson · 2 months

Note

📖 but do three episodes

this is so creative omg!!

1) SHOOTING STAR. get that thing OUTTA HERE. it adds very little to the plot iirc so taking it out would not hurt anything. it would make the season better because there would be no tonally confused, insensitive, and (to my own personal experience) inaccurate (+ kind of harmful) episode. it practically doesn't exist to me anyway

2) the spanish teacher. sorry ricky martin. it is an episode that adds very little, if not absolutely nothing, and is just. uncomfortable. i do not get any joy from watching will schuester being racist for 45 minutes

3) lights out? i suppose? im not entirely sure for this one.. but lights out doesn't really Add anything aside iirc from some awful lines from artie and sam about ryder's SA, which is out of character for sam and just. gross for artie. i like at the ballet but can't tell you a single other song in that episode. it is mid so its getting blasted away

#thank you for this ask this was so fun to think about #asks #kurtsascot #my post

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unfriedough · 2 years

Note

hii! i have a request if that's ok .

for this request you can do either a modern au just just a regular avatarverse because i believe it works both ways (though i think its way better with modern)

basically the girls of the gaang out together for a little girls night out and the guys are just hanging out together. they talk about their girls a little bit but then a storm rolls in and its HEAVY. fiance!zuko (or husband) you know starts to panic a little bit because reader isn't really answering the phone (if chosen modern au), and theirs like a pretty ugly storm. reader DOES come back eventually soaking wet/sneezing and coughing, zuko is kind of like 😟😟, and the rest of the fic is just zu taking care of soaked and cold reader and its all fluff at the end!

💗💗

‘The common cold’- Modern!Zuko x female!reader

Masterlist <3

An: HIYA! Literally, I love you. I LOVE MODERN AU’S IM SO HAPPY YOU REQUESTED!!!!!! 🫶 Side note: I’m aware it’s almost been like a month since I’ve posted, and I really don’t know what to say other than sorry! (Though, I can’t guarantee it won't happen again, school starts soon :’))

Summary:

Read request :) SET IN MODERN AU!!!

Warnings: stressed zuko tbh, super duper cheesey, pet names ig

“Last week, Suki took me bowling! It was sooo much fun!”

“Were you any good?” Aang replied, interested in Sokka’s most recent endeavours.

The boy huffed in return, hanging his head, “No, I flopped so hard, you don’t even know.” he paused, before looking back up, “What about you, what did you do?”

Aang grinned, “Katara and I spent the day indoors, bingeing her favourite show! To be completely honest, I didn’t really understand what was going on.” he frowned, before smiling as he recalled how she laughed at a joke he didn’t get, then looked at him in shock when she realised he didn’t laugh.

Aang turned to Zuko, tilting his head, waiting for him to add his own side of the story, Sokka doing the same.

“What?”

“What did you and Y/n do?” the brown haired one asked, an encouraging look on his features.

He looked between the two, getting a middle school boy sleepover vibe from the atmosphere. Alas, he didn’t mind sharing, “We had a picnic by the beach.”

“Was it romantic?” Aang asked.

Zuko blinked twice in his direction - what else would it be?

“What do you think?”

“I’ll take that as a yes…” he rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Anything else?” Sokka asked, feeling like he ended the conversation too fast.

Well, there were plenty of other things you did! You baked a few recipes you’d seen online, struggling to follow the complex instructions, causing a messy end result, but two very proud individuals. Zuko recalls lecturing you after you had some of the raw batter, and you simply wiped some off of the spoon and onto his nose - your husband wasn't very amused. You also made him take a few quizzes online, ranging from which (Favourite game) character are you, to what’s your love language, to ‘create a desert and we’ll tell you what kind of spouse you’re looking for!’. He was highly sceptical of the last one. By the end of that session, you had established that zuko was an introverted-triple chocolate fudge cookie-alien with no favourite colour - he was 99% sure that was inaccurate. Although, his favourite was when you two dressed in your most fanciest outfits, and danced around the house, bodies rhythmic and in sync, despite no music playing. Only sounds coming from the gentle hums leaving your body, content from being held by your lover. He wished that moment never ended, he wasn’t exactly sure how to tell you that a thought you had on a whim is now his go-to romantic activity. Maybe it was the silliness of it all, every new day punctuated with weird games and jokes. He was a fan though.

Sokka nodded, deciding not to push the man’s limits, and turned on the large tv. The movie playing was nothing more than a low budget horror film - if you could even refer to it as that. The CGI was poorly conducted, and the story line was nonsensical. Aang and Sokka enjoyed it though, ‘the tackier, the better’ - their words, not his. Just as the three relaxed into their seats on the large sofa, a loud jumpscare came up, the villain flashing onto the screen along with a horrible screech. It wouldn't have been that scary, if it weren’t for the sudden bolt of lighting striking the nearby ground. The younger two jumped, screaming, grabbing onto anything close to them.

“What was that!” Aang yelled, looking out of the window.

“Talk about bad timing.” Sokka sighed, the storm becoming more prominent outside.

The rain stuck to the big window, the outside view becoming more blurry. Zuko’s breath hitched as he realised you were out, immediately tugging at his phone, unlocking it, and searching for your contact.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calling Y/n.”

“Oh my god.” Sokka immediately rushed to get his cellphone, Aang just as fast.

Zuko walked into your shared bedroom, picking at his fingers anxiously as he awaited the calling screen to switch from ringing to the numbers. As soon as he heard your voice he put the phone up to his ear.

“Yn where are-”

“Hi! This is Yn’s voicemail, please leave a message after the beep!”

His heart sank, and he suddenly felt light headed. Zuko didn’t cope well under stress, especially when he didn’t know where you were.

And so he called again. And again. And again... Only to get no response. On the 7th try, it stopped ringing, only calling - you had no service. He officially couldn’t reach you.

“Any luck?” the ponytailed guy said, leaning on the door frame, staring at Zuko’s back, who was now sitting on the far edge of your shared bed.

Zuko shook his head, dropping it into his hands.

Sokka rounded the frame and sat next to him, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly,

“I’m sure she’s okay, her phone probably just died,” he smiled.

“Yeah but how about Suki or Katara or Toph? All of their phones died?”

“Suki never charges her phone before leaving the house, Katara’s phone probably got waterlogged, and Toph never answers anyways.” he shrugged, masking his anxiety with false coolness.

“I guess so,” they both knew that didn’t make Zuko feel better.

Just then, Aang ran into the room, heaving, “GUYS! KATARA’S CAR JUST PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY!”

The boys immediately perked up, a bright smile on Sokka’s face. They sped to the door and opened it, finding you fumbling with your keys, with the three other girls behind you. Zuko’s face lit up, and he immediately engulfed you in probably the warmest hug you’ve ever felt.

“Hey,” you whispered, grinning. “I’m home,”

You knew he was probably anxious, judging by his shaky body, and furrowed brows. He had the tendency to project a face of anger when faced with fear and uncertainty. But you knew better. Zuko was just worried for you - and rightfully so.

He let you go afterwards, leaning back with his arms still on your elbows, examining the wetness on your clothes.

“What took you so long?”

“It wasn’t long at all? The storm only got worse like 5 minutes ago?”

“It definitely didn’t feel like just 5 minutes, Yn” he said sternly, almost like that of a father to his kid who played in the mud. It was cute how worried he was.

Everyone stepped into the house, not forgetting to remove their shoes by the little shoe cabinet by the door, the one you decorated with stickers on a day much like this one, muddy and rainy. The stickers have since then chipped and faded, but the memory the hold within will always be sweet. You immediately went to your room, wincing at the feelings of your wet socks against the ground, a change of clothes being your objective. Zuko joined you in the room as you stripped down, throwing you a pile of fresh pj’s and socks. As you finally felt the warmth of the newly out of the laundry outfit, another, even stronger, warmth covered you. You leaned into him, the scent of his masculine perfume flooding your senses. It was one you picked out for him, seeing as though it smelt less like a scent and more like a feeling. Like the feeling of a cold winter day being ended with a cozy sleep under the soft sheets of a cabin, far in the woods. You loved it, and so did he. It’s been the one he’d dawned for ages now, refusing to swap it out no matter what. He sighed, kissing you softly. You pushed him away, shaking your head.

“Zuko, I think I’m sick. Don’t risk it.”

“Are you sure?” He said, eyes saddened, an irresistible pout on his face.

As if on cue, you sneezed. Not once, not twice but three times in a row, only slightly quieted by your sleeve. Your husband stared in shock, before snapping out of his trance and making his way to the medicine cabinet, passing you a pill for the common cold, mumbling things incoherently all the while. Whilst you took it, he gave suki, toph and katara some clothes you kept for sleepovers with your friends, he always loved your over the top preparations. Then, back to the room he went. He helped you under the soft, warm covers, pulling up the blankets to engulf your shaking body. Definitely a cold. Zuko’s hand was placed against your forehead, warm to the touch. Definitely a cold. Then he got the thermometer, it read 37 degrees Celsius. Yeah, definitely a cold. He sighed, shutting the lights as he left the room to let you rest, check in on the other couples + Toph in the guest bedrooms. Checking up on you again, he realised you fell asleep. Zuko neared your side of the bed cautiously, careful not to disturb your sleeping form. Gently, your lover neared his face to yours, planting an ever so gentle peck on your forehead, before moving back, standing up straight again. He sighed as he walked to the kitchen, already using his mobile phone to research different soup recipes, attempting to find one that actually seemed appetising.

The boy ended up settling on a classic, and began his cooking endeavour. Sure, he wasn’t the best at it, but the effort was there. As the mixture brewed, he moved on to making a drink. Hot chocolate. The brown mixture was being stirred by the spoon as he added sugar, before topping it with three marshmallows, soft and squishy - much like how he was acting, soft and- well maybe not squishy. Moving on from the beverage, he used a ladle to scoop some of the soup into a bowl, then put the bowl onto a tray, beside the drink. He texted the group chat to let the other boys know to grab some soup for the sick if they wanted, before shutting his phone. His sole attention needed to be on you and you only. He took off his home slippers, the cheap ones you bought him as a joke - but he’d grown to love, and stepped into the room, socked feet barely making a single noise. He carefully slotted the tray on his bedside table, and slowly got into the bed, staring at you all the while. Zuko’s arm carefully stroked your covered arms, his feather light touch calling you out of your sweet dreams and into your very lightheaded reality. You groaned, shaking a bit after gaining consciousness.

“Hey love, I made you some soup.” you turned over, Zuko’s eyes staring lovingly at you.

You smiled, slowly sitting up so you could consume it. As you reached for the spoon, he pulled it back, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t even want you to move a muscle.” you rolled your eyes, and he fed you a spoon full of the soup, the flavours actually quite nice to the taste.

“Hm, where’d you get this?”

“Why? You don't like it?”

“No, the opposite actually,” you laughed dryly, your throat hoarse.

“Oh” he blushed a little, “I made it.”

“You’ve improved!” you giggled, “They grow up so fast!” you wiped a mock tear from your eye.

He swatted your hand away from your face, a fake angry look on his face, “No moving,”

Although, nothing could disguise the blush from the compliments. He was always a sucker for your affection. Could you blame him though?

Zuko slotted the spoon of broth into your mouth again, the hot liquid running down your throat, helping to warm it momentarily. He then leaned back, passing you the cup of hot chocolate, which he had fit into your favourite cup warmer. Your hands gently brushed his as you took the drink, a grateful smile on your features, one that warmed his nerve wrecked heart. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“Mmm,” you mumbled into the mug, “It’s so good, thank you,”

He hummed in acknowledgment, placing the half finished soup aside after you signalled you don’t want any more, before going back to his original criss-cross sitting style. He watched you gulp the drink down intently.

“Careful, it’s hot.” his voice rang as you took the final sip of the concoction.

“You’re hot,” you replied, lowering the cup from your face.

He chuckled, hiding his bashfulness with his hands, “Shut up,”

Collecting the mug from your hands, the boy popped it onto the tray on the bedside table, turning his attention back to you. A sigh left his lips as he checked your temperature, you sniffling in the process. You grabbed his hand off of your forehead, lowering it to your cheek, and pressing a gentle kiss into it.

“I’m fine Zuko, it’s just a cold,”

“Luckily. Could've been worse.”

“And how so?”

“I- uh,” he paused, “I don’t know. Just could’ve,”

“We’ll, it wasn’t. I’m here, I’m safe, and I’m with you. Nothing to worry about sweetie,”

He shrugged, anything could happen after all.

You cupped his cheeks, your cold hands causing him to scrunch his nose. You giggled at your husband’s reaction, kissing the top of his head lovingly. He stared at you with wide, adoring eyes, and you tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“Thank you zuko,” you whispered to him, a grin on your face.

He tilted his head sideways, thank you for what? You understood the implication of the motion.

“For taking care of me,”

“It’s the bare minimum.”

You laughed, “it’s still sweet”

He mumbled something against your palms, something about your standards being weirdly low, before kissing your hand - an act of physical love he learned from you.

Slowly, zuko removed your arms from his face and laid you down again, pulling the blanket over your body once again. Your fever had gone down drastically now that you’ve eaten and had something warm for your throat. But you were still severely dehydrated. He pointed to the drink next to you - water obviously - and said the following: “If you get thirsty, please drink, it’s right there.”

And you nodded happily, eyes already droopy. A yawn left your mouth as you rolled over, going from a position on your back to a position facing him - on your side. You watched him through half lidded eyes get up and change out of the clothes he was in, in favor of putting on fresh pj’s. He rolled his eyes playfully as he noticed your stare, leaving the room as he tugged the shirt over his head.

The man’s socked feet made a pitter patter type noise as he traversed the hall which housed the rooms your friends were staying in, making sure they were cozy and situated, and alerting them of the different toiletries and essentials you had stocked for this occasion. He gave the men some of his spare pajamas, before leaving to head back to you, a good night leaving his lips as he does. He yawned as he entered the room again, slipping under the sheets next to you. Zuko watched your chest rise and fall with each breath, reminding himself that you were here, and you were safe. Though, he couldn’t sleep. Not one bit. His body was tired, but sleep wasn’t coming to him. For the simple reason that you weren’t by his side, snuggled up against him. He knew you would yell at him if he cuddled up with you, he would get sick after all. But what’s a little cold gonna do? Careful not to wake you up, he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around you. Your body gladly accepted the invitation, spreading your arms over his waist, and your head onto his shoulder. Content, he sighed, a smile playing on his lips, knowing this is the calm before the storm - the storm being the lecture he was bound to hear first thing in the morning. ‘Zuko you could’ve gotten sick!’ He laughed at the thought, your angry face being far too cute for anyone to ever be threatened. His thoughts wandered, mostly circulating around you, before his eyes fell heavy, and his breathing got deeper, his mind lulling into a soft, sleepy trance.

An: lol

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