#Unless it's an emergency GOOD LUCK

[cxpperhead]

The days were getting shorter and so was Copperhead's tolerance for the cold, the abrupt end of summer leaving a distinct chill in the air he hadn't quite gotten used to yet. Doing so would take time; the changing of seasons always caught him off-guard even though he could feel it in his scales that winter was coming, speeding towards the land on hurried winds of mist and cold. Just the thought made him not want to get up ever again, to never leave this haven of comfort and warmth even though he knew he couldn't stay forever and neither could his guest for that matter, despite having spent a most wonderful night nestled within his coils... A rustle in the blankets caught his attention suddenly, movement in the blankets next to him alerting Copperhead that his companion was not only stirring but beginning to awaken, their new position quickly leaving him cold as their bodies momentarily seperated- "No, don't move yet." Copperhead mumbles sleepily, muscular tail sliding around their torso before soundly dragging them back into his nest of blankets and duvet covers with a soft thump. Renewed warmth instantly floods through his scales, bringing him fresh waves of pleasure though perhaps much to his bedmate's chagrin, now finding themselves being treated more of a captive than lover.

[elongated-twink]

I think being autistic does actually make me inherently better at animal handling because I, too, have been yelled at for growling and biting when everyone ignored my previous warnings and didn’t set clear boundaries

[cosmosluckycharms]

can we get more incorrect quotes?

like this time with miguel + reader but also damion and penny

i mean like if you INSIST (i love making these)

spider!reader, peni & damian : *screaming*

miguel: *runs into the room* What's wrong, damian ?!

spider!reader: Wait, why are you asking damian that when peni and I are also here?

miguel: Because damian wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

spider!reader: The scariest president had to be Rushmore because he had four heads.

peni: Yeah, it’s a good thing we captured him in that mountain, even if we have to live in fear of the spell wearing off.

miguel: Do you two still believe in that legend? Come on, Rushmore was killed a hundred years ago! We’re safe now.

damian : You people have clearly never taken a history lesson. His body was never found.

miguel: Are you laughing at that video of peni and damian fighting?

spider!reader: No.

spider!reader: I'm laughing at the comments.

*The squad is visiting a store late at night to return a DVD for spider!reader*

damian: I forget—what happens if we don’t return the DVD before midnight?

miguel: Then spider!reader gets charged extra. It’s called a “late fee”.

peni: Or was it zombie apocalypse? Eh, I don’t remember, but we can’t afford either.

peni: *clicks pen*

spider!reader: *clicks pen in response*

damian: Stop that.

peni : Stop what?

damian: You’re talking about me in Morse code!

spider!reader: Yes, that’s what we doing. In our very limited time, we took a class on a very outdated, very unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you in front of you. Congrats, you figured us out!

*later*

spider!reader, to miguel: That’s actually exactly what we were doing.

peni: Can I be frank with you guys?

damian: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is going to help.

spider!reader: Oh! Can I still be spider!reader?

miguel: Shh. Let Frank speak.

miguel: I just watched peni jump off of a spinning chair. Luckily, she wasnt hurt that badly. But the whole time, damian was screaming for help, which caused spider!reader to run in to help peni. Just note that all of this happened in the span of six minutes.

miguel: What do you three have to say for yourself?

peni:

damian:

spider!reader: Oops?

damian: miguel, we're hungry!

peni: miguel! What's for dinner?

spider!reader: We're hungry, miguel!

miguel, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams*

miguel: Why are you two always out during rainstorms?

spider!reader: It’s so peaceful and refreshing. I love the smell of rain.

damian : peni bet me I couldn’t get struck by lighting, but she's WRONG.

miguel: *points at peni* A human turtleneck, *points at damian * a narcissistic monster, *points at spider!reader* and literally the dumbest person I’ve ever met.

spider!reader: And who am I? Describe me now.

peni, pointing to the wall: What color is this?

damian : Gray.

spider!reader: Grey.

peni, turning to miguel: Now tell them what color you think it is.

miguel: Dark white.

spider!reader: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out.

miguel: Fucking damian and peni were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

*The gang when they drop food on the floor*

miguel: Aw man. *Throws it away*

spider!reader: Five second rule!

damian : Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? *Eats it off the floor*

peni: *Sobs on the floor*

spider!reader: damian's out the will.

damian: That’s honestly fair. I deserve that.

miguel: Wait, you have a will? Already? You haven’t even graduated.

spider!reader: I’ve done some things in my life. Upset the wrong people. peni, you have a will too, right?

peni: Lots. Good luck figuring out which one’s real.

spider!reader: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions.

damian: Ridiculous. Give me some examples.

miguel: Wasps?

peni: Terriers?

spider!reader: damian.

damian: What’s it like being tall?

peni: Is it nice?

spider!reader: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

miguel: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

peni: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

damian : *crouches down*

spider!reader: *kneels down*

miguel: *sits on the floor*

peni: peni: I hate all of you.

peni: damian got into a fight.

spider!reader: That’s bad.

spider!reader:

spider!reader: Did he win?

peni: Hey, spider!reader, have you thought about having children?

spider!reader: ...

spider!reader: Does looking over you and the others not seem like I already do? Because I promise you, it sure feels like it.

peni: But we're not childr-

spider!reader, already distracted: DAMIAN, PUT THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER DOWN!

damian: You're pathetic!

peni: You're pathetic-er!

spider!reader: You're both losers.

damian: Comparing spider!reader and peni is like comparing apples and oranges.

spider!reader: We’re both unique in our own ways?

damian: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated.

peni: Which one of us is the orange?

spider!reader: damian, peni, I love y’all and all, but can I ask what in the hell are you doing?

damian, trying to stabilize a tower of folding chairs that peni is sitting atop: Oh nothing much.

peni: I love you too :)

peni: I know we’re not exactly friends, but-

damian: What do you want?

peni: I've been stuck with spider!reader for 2 weeks and they've been drinking all the soy sauce.

peni: Help.

spider!reader: I will find us a covered wagon and horses. spider!reader: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone.

damian: Oh, please. We're not children.

*spider!reader leaves*

damian, casually: ...Eat shit and die.

peni, also casually: Yes, fuck you.

spider!reader: damian, we need that!

damian, holding peni over a trash can: Nope.

spider!reader: Gimme it—

damian: It’s garbage.

peni: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on spider!reader without them noticing?

damian: Hey, spider!reader, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny.

spider!reader: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up, loser.

peni: ...

peni: What’s your favorite color?

damian: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature.

peni: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP?

damian: My favorite color is red.

damian: We vegetarians love the environment. Carnivores are sick freaks.

peni: How can vegetarians possibly love the environment.. you keep eating all the fucking plants.

haha i love damian and peni my sillies for weal

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

(Thunderbolts) I feel like it would be really funny. There's a x reader where Bucky had a wife, and she just walks in during one of their meetings, holding their kids and like "where the hell were you? All I need a frozen pizza and some diaper wipes."

And alexie teaches one of the kids their first word but it's not mama or dada. It's Gin.

Bucky is pulled away quickly for a mission, leaving you holding the babies...and worrying about your husband.

Warnings: 18+ for language, domestic fluff, Thunderbolts!Bucky before the film, Dad!Bucky, reader likes pineapple on her pizza, I feel this is something I need to warn for. I don't really write kids in fics normally and I've never written Alexi before so…please be kind! Rated F for fluff and K for kids.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! Not going to lie I'm nervous writing anything about Thunderbolts before it's out but Thunderbolts!Bucky does live rent free in my head. It's not exactly as you requested but I hope you still enjoy it anyway!

Padruga - female friend in Russian

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes | The Barnes Family AU

Being married to Bucky Barnes was everything you'd dreamed about since the first time he'd strolled into your boutique and nervously asked if you had any gifts suitable for ex-assassins with limited wardrobes.

After a few hours searching for items he'd bought a new jacket for himself, black leather of course, and a smaller woman's jacket. Your heart had sunk, of course there was a woman already in his life. Tall, handsome, a rakish mop of hair flopping into his piercing blue eyes, she was a lucky lady.

Bucky had looked at you, those blue eyes looking straight into your soul, "it's for my sister, sort of, well, she's not my real sister, but she's like a - it's not for …I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh, good." And then you kicked yourself for sounding so stupid. Bucky had given you the widest smile and written his number on a scrap of paper.

"Call me." He'd winked.

It was becoming harder to appreciate your luck when you were covered in bath water, probably the only shower you were likely to get unless Grant went to sleep quickly.

Bucky had been called out to an emergency meeting on his way to the store and as much as you loved his dedication and hard work you really, really, needed him to come home with the groceries.

You were running low on literally everything and you knew eventually you'd have to do a full shop, but now just the essentials would do. You couldn't have a repeat of lunch, hunting down some crackers, cheese and cucumbers sticks.

Distracted for a moment, Grant lined his rubber ducks up on the edge of the tub, splashing them in one by one.

"Look Mama!" He said, gleefully, "'dis one is Daddy!" He took the duck, left wing coloured in black, and made it dive into the heap of bubbles surrounding him.

"Well done, Sweetie!" You cooed, turning away quickly to hide a yawn and checking your phone.

Get your ass home or I'm ordering the pizza in instead

From the nice place

Get me some fries?

No

and I'm getting pineapple

Doll cmon now youre being cruel

It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep his work secret, but he would normally be able to say when he was coming home. Perhaps it was really important.

Grant had just gone to sleep when the doorbell rang and you cringed, setting your pineapple heavy pizza down on the coffee table and pausing your movie.

There was a familiar silhouette in the frosted glass -

"Alexi, is everything okay?" The door swang wide open before you could even reach it. It had definitely been locked, but it was hard to keep any of the team out for long.

"Padruga! I am returning the small one." A very familiar mop of hair popped over Alexi's shoulder, face covered in cookie crumbs. For all that Grant was like you, Natalia was all Bucky, soft curls and sparkling blue eyes.

"Mommy!" She jumped from Alexi, landing heavily in your arms, "we went to Dairy Queen and I had two ice creams and one of those ice creams was vanilla and the other was choca-chol-choco-brown-extreme-blizzard-extreme."

You turned a cold eye on Alexi, "I thought we said park, dinner, home?"

"Ah how can I resist to spoiling the daughter of the Winter Soldier, if she wants extreme blizzard milk drinks I cannot say no." He shrugged, an indulgent smile peaking out of his beared.

"God," you rubbed a hand over your face. "She'll never sleep - Petal, can you go and get your pjs on please, I'll come up and help you do your teeth."

Natalia climbed the stairs quickly, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a four year old.

"Do you know what's going on with Bucky? I expected him home by now."

Alexi looked concerned, but didn't immediately start a tirade about the strength of the Winter Solider, so you felt reassured it couldn't be too serious.

"He is discussing planning with Wilson and his comrades. I have advised against it but he trusts the Captain and so we do too."

"We?"

"Yelena has been very helpful and is talking to the rest of the team. We will have a plan soon."

"So you're heading out for something?"

"Yes. I am sorry."

"Fuck."

"In Russian you can say, yebat, Mommy." Natalia's little voice floated over from the hallway and you cringed. Everytime she came back from spending time with Alexi or Yelena she seemed to have learnt a new Russian word, which wouldn't bother you, except they were almost always curse words.

"I'm all for her being bilingual, but could you maybe teach her how to say her favourite colour or something." You grouched.

"Sorry."

Alexi took a slice of pizza and left the address of the current discussions on a scrap of paper stuck to the fridge before vanishing in to the night again with the promise that you could "call anytime."

It had been two days since Bucky left on his bike to, "have a quick chat with the team, baby, don't worry, I'll swing by the store on the way home." And you were starting to move from slightly annoyed to a see-saw of furious and anxious.

He'd text a few times to let you know they hadn't left yet but the situation was complex, he'd be home very briefly before they left, just to see you and the kids, but other than that he was holed away for the foreseeable.

One week after Bucky left and you were truly stir crazy. There was only so many times you could have the same conversation with the other parents at the park before you lost your mind.

You really didn't care if Timmy or Charlie or whoever had cut their first tooth. All you cared about was what your husband was doing somewhere, anywhere, and when he'd be home safe in your arms.

It was 2am when the call came in, he was home, safe and unharmed, at the abandoned airstrip twenty miles past the town border. Yelena and Alexi were with him, also safe.

Grant was a heavy, floppy, weight in your arms as you buckled him into his car seat. But Natalia was wide awake and excited, clutching her bear to her chest and staring at the street lights in awe.

"I can't wait to see Daddy," she sighed, snuggling the top of the bear's head. You made sure to put his cologne on it, every day, while she was out at kindergarten, the same way you sprayed his pillow. So you'd both have a memory. Grant's blankie was the same and, still asleep, he pressed his chubby cheek into the cotton.

"I can't wait either, Petal, we'll be there soon."

You drove through the night, the darkness closing in around your car, streetlamps dwindling and stars appearing as you made it out of the town and towards the airstrip. There was a single plane looking almost abandoned, its tail at an angle, on the landing strip. But there was the faint glow of artificial light under the door of a metal supply shed beyond it.

You slowed the car, expecting there to be someone at the gate to the airstrip before remembering it had been closed a few years previously and there would be no one to care. It must have been a rough mission, to come back like this rather than through a real airport. It was normally Sam who let you know about his return and you could collect him from the big airport in the city or he'd appear in the night from some taxi or hire car.

You double checked to make sure the doors were locked on the car, the children dozing in the back. Grant was drooling on his blankie and Natalia, despite her assertion that she would "definitely certainly mostly stay awake until Daddy, Mommy" was bumping her head on the side of her car seat every time her eyes closed.

You stopped the car opposite the shed and flashed your lights, ready to drive off if they didn't flash back.

It went dark, then light, dark…light and the door opened. You put the handbrake on and jumped from the car, leaving the door flung open in your haste, and raced towards Bucky.

He dropped his duffle bag and swung you into his arms, latching around your waist and lifting you easily. His lips were chapped and there was the tang of blood when you pulled away from a cut on his upper lip. You cupped his face in your hands and inspected him as best you could in just the headlights.

"You're okay." You sighed, breathing him in, burying your face in his neck and squeezing your legs around his waist.

"I'm alright Doll, don't worry about me. Are you okay?" His voice was rough with sleep, his cheeks chapped with cold and he smelt faintly of fire which was disconcerting. But he was here, safe, holding you close.

"Glad you're back, baby." You smiled, kissing him again. It was amazing, even after all these years, ever though he'd been on a hundred missions. It still gave you butterflies every time he came back, not just that he returned at all, but that he came back to you.

Behind you came the sound of little fists banging on the windows.

"Daddy!" Natalia shouted and Bucky carried you, giggling, back to the car.

With practiced ease he unbuckled both children and held them close.

"My little monsters, have you been good for Mommy?"

"Yes!"

"No!" Grant giggled.

"Sounds about right." Bucky looked over Natalia's head and smiled again, soft and slow.

"I'm glad you're back." You repeated, "but if you ever take two weeks to 'pop to the store' again we're over." You wagged your finger teasingly.

"Don't worry, I got everything we needed." Bucky carried the children back to his duffle, shuffling them around so he could lumber back with everything in his arms. "Look in there."

You unzipped the bag and inside - a pack of wipes, a bottle of laundry soap and two frozen pizzas.

[heartsforkatsuki]

rude.  ｡°✩ e. kirishima

pov ; your dad won’t give ur boyfriend of 8 years his blessing

pairing: eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, marriage, swearing, yearning lovesick kirishima!!!

word count: ~1.9k. song; rude by magic!

kirishima had fallen in love with you at first sight.

the minute he saw you in the entrance exams, he prayed you’d both get in together. he came up to you and wished you a very manly , loud, “good luck!!” with a hand on his hip and his other in a thumbs up.

you’d found it weird at first, and returned his enthusiasm with an awkward “thank you..?” and walked away.

now, 11 years later, looking back, you find it endearing, and can’t believe how long it took you to end up where you are now.

the minute he heard you woke up after the war, kirishima ran to your room and hugged you. not even 2 seconds before you could process him, he asked you to be his girlfriend and explained how he felt about you all along.

“[name], i’m so inlove with you. i have been since the entrance exams. i’ve been keeping that from you for three years.. so sorry. that wasn’t cool of me. i really, really hope you feeling the same way ‘cause if you don’t, i’ll bet i look pretty stupid right now.. you’re just so.. beautiful and captivating .. and strong. so strong.. and really cool just.. all around. what i’m trying to say is.. will you be my girlfriend? please? oh! dang, and i’m so so glad you’re okay! i should’ve started with that.. dang it.“

he said everything so rushed, you just sat there in your hospital bed blinking at him.

“i.. what?”

“its okay if you don’t feel the sa-“

you finally processed it all.

“no, no! i do! im sorry, it took me a minute to process.”

he rubbed the back of his head, looking at the floor. the tips of his ears were turning the same color as his hair now.

it was adorable.

“so…?”

“yes! yes, i’ll be your girlfriend!”

now, 8 years later, you’re still together and more in love than ever. you’ve succeeded at acquiring your dream job, and your boyfriend has been climbing up the hero rankings, sitting at #12! what could be better than this? there’s one problem though.. what’s been taking him so long to make you his forever?

it was approximately 8AM, you woke up to a message from your boyfriend saying he left early for work.

you sighed, reading through the text.

goodmorning, babe! if you’re reading this it’s cause you’re awake, which means you should have (hopefully) noticed your amazing, radical, the manliest of them all boyfriend is infact not laying down next to you! (that’s me btw) i had to go to work early babes, i’ll be home later! i love you baba girl😘😍😍!

you chuckled, texted back a heart and an okay , be safe before you went to check the calendar.

it was saturday.

eijiro almost never, ever worked on saturdays unless there was an emergency. he wouldn’t even check in at the agency.

so of course, the first thing you did was check the news.

nothing really, just small criminals and no big villains. what could he possibly be doing?

so the next thing you did was check his location. not because you’re crazy, but you were genuinely worried. you never ever checked his location, you didn’t need to. but he insisted to give you it just in case, so you never had to doubt.

currently, he was on super close to Osaka, and it said he’d been driving there for about two hours now.

Osaka? What the hell is in Osa…

your parents. your parents lived in Osaka, nobody else you guys knew lived there. when you saw exactly where he was, you saw he was literally pulling up on your parent’s street.

what the hell?

eijiro pulled up in the driveway to your parents house, his palms clammy on the steering wheel.

he’d been thinking about doing this for a while now, but he knew just how your dad felt about him.

your dad was a very old-fashioned man, didn’t exactly love the idea of you dating, much less marrying, a hero.

he didn’t want there to be an accident, only to end up with a depressed, grieving, hurt daughter.

and he made sure you knew it.

“he’s gonna do something stupid one day, [name], and then you’ll regret it.“

you’d always ignored him, and eijiro was forever grateful.

he tried as hard as he could to change your dad’s views on heroes, explaining how passionate he was, and why he decided on it in the first place.

he never really budged though.

now, kirishima was standing at your parents’ doorstep at 8am on a saturday morning, in his best suit, tailored just for this moment, and a big bouquet for your mom.

he brushed his hands on his dress pants and pushed the doorbell button.

he stood there for a minute looking at his shoes, until he heard the lock turn.

when he looked up, he was met with your dad’s resting bitch face. except now it was ten times worse, seeing as it was 8 in the morning.

“ah.. goodmorning, mr. [surname].”

“eijiro? it’s 8am.” your dad crossed his arms, spreading his feet.

“i know.” he lifted his hand, handing the flowers over to your father. “those are for mrs. [surname].”

“thank you? why are you here, young man?” he scowled.

“i came because i wanted to ask you.. for your blessing.” he rubbed the back of his neck, “to marry [name].”

“i love your daughter more than anything, and i’ve kept her waiting for 8 years now. i’ve been inlove with her for 11 years now, and i want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

your dad scoffed to that, “which i’m sure won’t be long, eijiro. your job is gonna end up with my daughter heartbroken.”

“sir, please, i’m safe! i love your daughter, plea—”

“over my dead body. no. until i die, you aren’t marrying my daughter.” he slammed the door in front of eijiro.

“fuck..” he sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking back to his car.

“I just don’t get why he’s so rude to me.” kirishima groaned, placing his beer on the table infront of him.

“he’s just an asshole dude, ignore him.” bakugo responded, rolling his eyes.

“hey! that’s my future father in law you’re talking about.” he whined, taking a swig of beer.

“he won’t be if you keep paying attention to the bullshit he’s spouting.” the blonde picked up his own beer, drinking it.

“dude, i’m gonna marry her anyways.. i just need to convince him.” kirishima insisted, his hands balling into fists.

the week after that, kirishima did the same thing as he did that last saturday morning, he bought a brand new suit and showed up with an bigger bouquet.

the door creaked open, and he made sure to get the first word in

“can i have your daughter for the rest of my life? please. i love her, i can provide for her as i always have, and i’ll give my life to make her happy.”

he prayed your father would say yes, chanting it in his head.

“no.” he slammed the door, again.

“hey babe, why does your dad hate me so much?”

it was now two weeks after the first visit, and you hadn’t asked him about why he went to go see your parents yet.

“he doesn’t hate you…” you curled on the couched next to him, stroking his hair, “he’s just looking out for me, babe.”

“why does he have to hate me in order to look out for you?” he pouted.

“he doesn’t hate you babe!”

the following week, he repeated his attempts.

another new suit, and a bigger bouquet. he stood at the door, determined to walk away with your fathers blessing this time.

one thing changed though, this time your father didnt open the door, your mom did.

“Oh. goodmorning, mrs. [surname]. how are you?” he asked, lifting the bouquet to her.

“goodmorning, eijiro. i’m well, thank you for asking, and for the flowers dear.” she smiled.

“is mr. [surname] home?” he asked, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants again.

“yes, he is. let me get him for you.”

she stepped away from the door, and soon, your dad appeared. his expression was unreadable this time.

“you again?” he grunted.

“yes, sir. i know you’ve said no—three times now—but i love your daughter. i’m going to marry her. with or without your blessing… but i’d rather it be with.”

your father stayed silent.

“i’ve never loved anyone the way i love her. she’s the first and only person i’ve ever truly wanted to build a future with. i want to wake up next to her every morning. i want to take care of her, support her, grow old with her. and i promise you, with everything i have, i’ll protect her.”

your dad sighed, long and heavy.

“…you’re a persistent little bastard, huh?”

kirishima swallowed, “only for her, sir.”

your father stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside.

“come in.”

kirishima blinked, stunned. “w-what?”

“you heard me. come in.”

he followed him inside, nervous and stiff as a board.

they talked for over an hour. about life, about you, about the future. your father asked hard questions, challenged him, and at one point even asked if he was truly willing to give up being a hero someday if it came down to choosing between his life or yours.

without hesitation, kirishima answered, “i’d choose her. every time.”

eventually, your dad nodded slowly and let out another sigh.

“…fine. you have my blessing.”

kirishima nearly collapsed from relief.

“but you better not make her cry. not once. or i swear—”

“never, sir. never.”

a few days later, you came home to find a trail of glowing red petals leading to your backyard. confused, you followed them.

and there he was.

in a perfectly fitted black suit, holding a small, red velvet box in his hand, his other hand tucked nervously into his pocket.

the yard was lit up with fairy lights, and small candles floated in a heart-shaped pond he’d made with some help.

“[name],” he said, voice cracking just a little, “i’ve loved you since the day i met you. you’re everything to me. my best friend, my strength, my peace. i want to spend every second of my life making you feel as loved as you make me feel.”

he got down on one knee.

“will you marry me?”

you cried. of course you did.

dang it, he already messed up the first rule.

but you said yes so fast, he didn’t even finish opening the box before you tackled him with a hug.

later that night, you sat together under the stars, your head on his shoulder, your hand in his—now with a sparkling ring on it.

“so,” you whispered, “what changed my dad’s mind?”

he smiled and kissed your forehead. “i just told him the truth. and refused to leave until he believed it.”

you giggled. “you’re so stubborn.”

“only for you, babe.”

[layla4567]

A good company

Bob/Sentry x Fem!reader

Summary: You're part of the Thunderbolts and have powers like Wanda's (I don't specify the color). You're very useful in battle, however, your lack of practice causes you to faint due to lack of energy. The team decides that it is best for you to stay in the tower.

Warnings: sexual tensión, fluff, descriptions of action scenes (fights, shooting, etc.), beta read, Bucky and the reader are very close (like siblings relationship), sfw

Once again, a complicated mission had emerged out of nowhere. Terrorists were threatening to blow up an office building near the area.

"Why does it always have to be bomb threats? How unoriginal." you said, sighing in annoyance.

Everyone was already in the living room adjusting their suits and preparing their weapons. In your case, you only needed your hands as weapons, so you simply put on your fingerless gloves. Bob, who was sitting in an armchair, got up to watch them prepare.

"For the same reason they always choose New York as a point of attack" Yelena said and everyone laughed softly.

Bucky asked if everyone was ready as he spun his metal arm back like a windmill. You rolled your eyes in amusement, knowing he did that just for attention since his arm was always perfectly fitted and hard to get out of place, unless, well, you're a man with the strength of thousands of suns, like Bob or rather Sentry. Anyway.

Everyone nodded confidently. We were about to leave when Bob approached us hesitantly. He seemed to want to say something, but he bit his tongue and simply said

"Good luck guys, and take care"

Everyone gave the brunette a sweet smile. Yelena cautiously approached him.

"Are you sure you'll be okay here? Anyway, you know we'll be back as soon as possible"

"Yeah, if they don't kill us in the middle" Walker exclaimed and you poked him in the rib which made him let out a small grunt.

Bob smiled shyly. "Yes, I know, I'll be fine. I just don't feel confident about going yet."

The blonde woman nodded with a half-smile and, after placing a hand on his shoulder, left the elevator followed by the others. Only you stayed behind to see Bob off. You trotted toward him, your ponytail swishing, and, standing on your toes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, almost knocking him off his feet.

Whenever you went out on a mission, you gave him a big bear hug in case you never saw him again. Being a superhero was dangerous, and you never knew what would happen to you. But you also wanted to comfort him and assure him that you would try to make it through safely and that you cared about him. Bob smiled warmly and hugged you back, returning the warmth of the hug.

"I promise you we'll be back soon and we'll be fine" Your voice sounded a little muffled as your face was close to the crook of his neck.

"I know you will"

"C'mon witch, it's time to go!" Bucky shouted, naming you with that affectionate nickname he gave you.

You quickly pulled away, to Bob's disappointment as he tried to hold you back a few seconds longer. You ran to the elevator, babbling apologies. Before the doors closed, you waved to Bob one last time, and he raised his hand with a smile.

Bob approached the large window sighing as minutes later he watched them leave in the ship through the skies, hoping they wouldn't take too long.

Once on the plane, everyone fastened their seatbelts. Yelena was driving, and Alexei was next to her. The others were in the back, and you were next to Bucky. You were admiring the scenery from the window when his voice brought you out of your trance.

"Do you think you'll be okay down there? That you'll be able to... handle it?"

You looked at him thoughtfully, knowing what he meant. On previous missions, you'd returned to the tower exhausted, with muscle aches and even on the verge of unconsciousness. Your magic was so powerful that sometimes you thought it couldn't fit inside your body, like a very small jar trying to fill it and not being able to.

"Yeah, I think so.." you answered not very sure

Bucky at your side frowned slightly. "We already told you not to overdo it, we can defend ourselves well."

"I know, I know! stop lecturing me"

Sometimes your friend seemed more like your father or your brother trying to lecture you on morals. He just sighed, and looked straight ahead. However, his words had become etched in your head and were hard to shake. You knew he was right, and you also knew that was the reason Bob looked so worried every time the group left, and so relieved when they returned almost intact.

You didn't have time to think about anything else because Alexei informed them they had arrived. While Yelena maneuvered and parked the ship, the others were already unbuckling their seatbelts to get out. The landscape was terrifying; there was smoke and dust that made you cough, people were running scared for cover, and men with guns were pointing at us to shoot. No matter how much you'd fought like this before, you never got used to the sight of your city in chaos.

"Okay, here's the plan: Alexei and John on the right, Y/n and Ava on the left, and you, Bucky, with me in front. Is that clear?"

"Clear as water!" exclaimed Red Guardian happily.

You were hesitant. "Wouldn't you rather I cover you?" You said to Yelena and Bucky.

"And who covers for me?" Ava said offended, looking at you.

Yelena closed her eyes, gathering patience. "Just stick to the plan, okay?" Then she looked at you softly. "We'll be fine. Just cover Ghost, alright?"

You nodded, unable to argue anything, just obey.

"WE ARE THE THUNDERBOLTS!" yell Alexei

"Don't use that name" Bucky made a face of disgust

"Yeah, it's awful" said Walker

The Russian girl rolled her eyes and separated from the group, pulling out her pistol and firing, followed by Bucky. The others went their separate ways, and you stuck close to Ava.

Two soldiers were shooting in your direction, so you quickly created a shield with magic, protecting you and Ava while she became intangible and passed through the men to attack them from behind. With quick movements of your fingers, you threw the soldiers away while orbs of colored light from your powers crossed the sky. You tried to be fast, but there were too many bullets and your arms were starting to tire. Everyone seemed to have everything under control when suddenly two cars exploded and flew towards Yelena and Bucky. He stood in front of the blonde and with his metal arm, stopped the car, which flew away, but he hadn't realized that another one was also heading towards them, so fast that Bucky couldn't stop it. Alarmed, you realized this; Ghost became visible at your side.

"Go, I can handle these" she said confidently

You nodded, thanking her with a look, and quickly ran in front of them. You raised your hands and stopped the car in its tracks, and with a gasp, you set it down on the ground. The overuse of your powers was already starting to take its toll on you; you could feel it; fatigue seemed to be overcoming you. You turned around with a tired smile. They, startled, just nodded. John, Ava, and Alexei had joined you.

"Are you okay, is everyone alright?" Yelena asked you and then looked at everyone

With your hands on your hips, you were about to answer yes when a second, even louder explosion sounded behind you. Everyone turned around in fear, watching as the tower of a building began to fall away, billowing out smoke as black as night. Debris fell, smashing cars and light poles.

"Shit..." Yelena sighed worry

"What the fuck John, didn't you tell us the bomb was inside the building?!" Ava yelled angrily.

"Oh I'm so sorry for being busy STOPPING SEVEN SOLDIERS"

Yelena's father raised his hands "HEY HEY ENOUGH, WE HAVE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO FIGHT ABOUT NOW!"

"We have to get the people out. Now." The blonde said

Along with Bucky and the others, they began guiding people to safety. They had to move quickly before the building collapsed completely. They were less than halfway down when a noise made them look up. The top of the terrace had split in half and was falling at high speed along with another part of the tower. The group hurried people out and ran for cover, except for you.

"WAIT DON'T DO IT!" Bucky yelled

Too late. You had already positioned yourself beneath the large piece of rubble that was falling on you, and with the last of your strength, you raised your arms and, with your magic, stopped it before it fell. But you didn't count on the fact that it was much heavier than you could bear, and you began to pant as your knees buckled and your back arched. The few people left were already leaving. Your biceps began to tremble, and your face wrinkled with exertion. When you sensed there was no one left to get out, that's when your powers began to slowly fade from your fingers, and the piece of building fell near you, leaving a crater in the pavement but without hurting you or anyone else.

You lowered your arms as if they were made of rags and you wobbled slightly, trying to stand awkwardly. The group ran up to you, worried, asking if you were okay. You were short of breath and your body felt very fatigued. Before you could answer, your vision blurred and you fainted in Bucky's arms.

When they arrived at the tower, Bob was already standing by the window waiting for them. When he heard the elevator doors open, he smiled in relief, but his smile disappeared the moment he saw you unconscious in Bucky's arms.

"Wh- what happened?" he said a little scared

No one answered; they were too busy focusing all their attention on you. Bucky had placed you on a very large sofa that almost felt like a bed. Yelena realized that panic was threatening to take hold of Bob, so she put both hands on his shoulders.

"She's ok, she will be ok. She just drained her energy again because her powers"

He nodded in understanding, but a worried frown crossed his face as he looked at you. Bob stayed by your side as long as necessary. Several hours passed until you finally woke up. When you slowly opened your eyes, you saw the honeyed brown of his. He looked at you, still a little worried, wanting to make sure you were better.

"Bob?"

He held your hand gently and you smiled softly. Then, yawning, you stretched and slowly straightened up.

"Careful" he said

Yelena and Bucky entered the living room and when they saw you awake, a gesture of relief enveloped them.

"You're awake" Bucky said

"How long did I sleep?"

"About 6 hours"

Six hours, damn it. You'd never been unconscious for so long. You slowly sat up on the couch to avoid dizziness and headaches.

"Are you better now? You still remember everything?" Bob asked a bit worried

You smiled sweetly. "Yeah, I was trying to stop a building from falling down, and then poof! I fainted. Nothing new." You said ironically.

"Bob stayed by your side all this time, he even forgot to eat" Yelena said casually.

You looked at the brown-haired man, asking if it was true, and he said he wanted to make sure you weren't alone when you woke up. His words caused a divine warmth in your chest as you smiled widely.

. . . . . .

Days after that mission, they were called back for another emergency. You were already preparing to leave when Bucky stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. Your smile disappeared, and confusion appeared in your frown.

"Sorry y/n, not today"

"Not today what?"

"You can't come with us," Walker said.

You looked at everyone, surprised and a little hurt. Their serious faces showed a hint of concern for you, and you hated it. You hated that they gave you that look of pity as if you were a weak, scared rabbit unable to defend yourself.

"Excuse me? I think I heard wrong. Do you want me to stay here?"

"That's exactly what you heard and what you'll do, at least for today." Yelena took a step towards you.

Bob, who had been listening silently, approached you, fearing an argument. You felt your blood boiling with anger inside you.

"So you're going to get rid of me so easily? You're going to abandon me like that? And everyone's okay with it?" you said annoyed.

"We all think it's the best for you," said John.

"Oh cut the shit, Walker!"

He rolled his eyes, "I give up, you guys talk."

Yelena stood in front of you. "Y/N, listen, we care about your health and we care about you, and we can't risk what happened the other day happening again. You're putting yourself at risk, and at the same time, you're putting us at risk. That's why it's best you stay with Bob today."

Her tone was firm but persuasive. You knew she was right. You didn't want to hold the team back or inflict any harm on yourself. But you felt betrayed by her not warning you sooner. You could have at least come to an agreement.

"But-!" you tried to reply

"Please, Y/N, don't make it harder. You'll stay here, and that's the end of the discussion" she said authoritatively

Bob slowly approached and from behind placed a hand on your shoulder, you looked at him "I think they're right, we just want to take care of you"

You smiled sadly at him and then looked at the others "and what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You can train in the room upstairs, you need to improve your endurance and strength so that this doesn't happen to you again." Bucky suggested

Everyone agreed and you had no choice but to nod reluctantly. When everyone left and it was just you and Bob, you sighed in annoyance, not because you were alone with Bob but because they had abandoned you even if it was for your own good.

You went to your room to change your clothes. A tank top and gym shorts would suffice. You went up to the training room, which was filled with punching bags and other gym equipment. You began to bandage your hands to avoid hurting yourself while muttering insults. You were still angry, and it showed in your fighting style. You let your anger guide your legs as you kicked the bag hard, snorting like a bull.

Your fists quickly hitted up the bag. The adrenaline was so high that you barely felt any pain in your knuckles. After a while, where you were already sweating slightly, you decided to rest. Suddenly, the helplessness of not being able to help and feeling limited and incapable by your powers filled your chest with guilt and poisonous anger, and you hit the bag again, this time with a grunt. At that moment, Bob was coming up the stairs and had frozen in the doorway, staring at you, not daring to enter. But you saw him.

"Uh so sorry, I just came to see if you needed anything"

He couldn't help but let his eyes flick down your bare thighs and back up to your face. You smiled amusedly and decided that maybe he could help you. You needed some hand-to-hand combat practice.

"Actually, now that you mention it, yes. Would you like to practice wrestling with me?"

He swallowed nervously. "Are you sure? Don't you want me to help you with anything else?"

"Very sure, come on." You approached and took his hands to bring him to the center of the room. He insisted, saying he didn't think it was a good idea since he didn't want to hurt you because sometimes he couldn't control his strength. You assured him that he could never hurt you.

"Don't worry, we'll start with something easy, and you don't need to change clothes, the ones you're wearing will be enough." You looked him up and down. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and gray jogging bottoms. Unconsciously, under your gaze, Bob felt vulnerable and blushed.

You both got into a fighting stance, one foot in front of the other, facing each other. You threw a punch in the air in front of his face, and he dodged it by ducking and going under your arm. He mimicked your punch, and you dodged his too. At first, the movements were slow, like a dance, but as you got used to it, the rhythm increased, and kicks were added.

You kicked at the side of his abdomen and he blocked it with his hands. Bob tried to throw a kick towards your face and you ducked to dodge it. Then you turned so that your back collided with his chest, so close you could feel his heart beating rapidly and you didn't know if it was from the exercise or from you. You took a few seconds to feel his body heat and his breath near your ear that sent delicious shivers down your spine. Until now he had only followed what you ordered him, imitating your movements like a mirror but with each step he gained more confidence in himself and when you landed a soft elbow in his abdomen, he put his arms on your chest and neck, without hurting you of course.

"Is this okay?" He asked

"Perfect" you smiled

You placed your hands on the sturdy forearm that was on your neck and felt his prominent veins. The other arm pressed chastely against your chest while your butt pressed against his hips, preventing you from moving. Not that it bothered you; you could stay like that for hours, and something told you that he preferred it that way too.

"Now I want you to try to take me down."

He blinked in confusion. "Wait, really? You sure?"

"Just do it, Bob"

He liked the way his name sounded from your mouth and tried to suppress a smile. Then, doing what you asked, he tried to pull you back gently, but you placed one foot back right between his legs and, twisting your torso, wrapped your arms around his and, with all your strength, you knocked him back, falling on top of him. Bob let out a grunt combined with a moan.

You put your hands on his chest and looked at him worriedly, maybe you were the one who had overdone it with force this time "I'm so sorry, are you okay?" you asked while you placed a lock of hair behind your ears.

He closed his eyes at the blow, his slightly pinched face looking cute to you. Strands of sweaty hair swirled around his forehead and you brushed them away. "Yeah, don't worry. You did great," he grinned.

Now he looked at you, your face was very close to his so he stopped to admire your curled eyelashes, your bright eyes and your rosy lips. Both of you were breathing heavily and your hot breaths mingled with each other. You noticed a heat in his chest where your hands were and your skin itself was slightly warming up where he held his hands on your waist, stabilizing you in place.

"Uhm, do you think it will take a while for the guys to arrive?" you asked.

Bob was about to answer that he hoped they don't, just for stay like this longer when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Before anyone could do anything, the entire group appeared at the entrance to the room like apparitions.

"What the hell is going on here?" Bucky asked, while Alexei laughed behind him.

You quickly broke away from Bob and in your haste you almost stepped on his crotch with your knee. When you both stood up blushing and panting silly excuses Yelena said

"We left you here with Bob to train, not to make out. Next time Ava stays with you." She left, rolling her eyes in disgust.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Unpredictable

Requested By: @beawesome04

Summary: The brothers and dateables reactions to an MC whose magic is hard to control and tends to have unpredictable consequences when they use it. The Seven Demons Brothers x Reader Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, & Solomon x Reader Word Count: 6,560

Solomon had promised you that everything would be alright when he first suggested teaching you magic.

Solomon was clearly a renowned sorcerer so you believed that he would be an excellent teacher in the matter.

But, Solomon was a very unpredictable person, and as such his magic lessons tended to be a bit unpredictable as well.

He had asked you to summon one of the brothers as a test of your ability, swearing that it would be a simple summoning spell.

You wanted to choose which brother you summoned with your pact, but that choice wasn’t given to you as all of the brothers seemed to be doing something at the current moment.

The only one who wasn’t busy was the strictest one - Lucifer.

You did everything you could to try to persuade Solomon to let you skip the lesson on summoning for now, but he refused to back down.

Before you knew it, you were saying the chant to summon the firstborn.

You swore you said and did everything correctly and when Lucifer suddenly appeared in front of you, you were relieved that you had done it.

But, that relief quickly faded when you took a better look at Lucifer.

He had a bewildered look on his face, clearly confused as to why he was just summoned, but more than that, most of his features had changed color.

His skin color, eye color, and hair color matched yours to the exact shade. 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as Solomon stifled his laughter from beside you.

You hoped that you could fix the situation before Lucifer saw what had happened but luck once again proved to not be on your side as you noticed a mirror conveniently placed in the room.

As soon as Lucifer saw himself in the mirror, his expression changed to one of anger and you could tell he was holding back one of his infamous lectures.

He was the one who encouraged you to work with Solomon on your magic so he could hardly be upset if things didn’t go right the first time, but changing his appearance was also not something he could tolerate.

“I’ll fix it, I promise!” you swore, coming up next to Lucifer who was now standing in front of the mirror.

You let out a small gasp as you came to the mirror, realizing that not only did Lucifer have your colored features, but you had his. Your hair was as dark as a raven’s and your eyes as red as blood.

Lucifer couldn’t help but take in your appearance as well, noting that under better circumstances, your appearance matching his own would drive him absolutely crazy.

Solomon’s chuckle brought Lucifer back to reality and he turned to look at the sorcerer.

Lucifer demanded Solomon to fix this mess and once that was done, Lucifer made sure to give you both a good lecture on the intricacies of magic and the consequences of doing it improperly.

Of course, you didn’t end up in any real trouble, but he did make you promise not to summon him again unless it was a real emergency.

Mammon’s experience with your unpredictable magic was entirely his own fault.

You had tried explaining to him on multiple different occasions that you were not fully trained and that you were still learning how to control your magic.

You only knew a few basic spells and you hadn’t even learned how to perfect those yet.

But, as usual, when Mammon had something on his mind, everything went in one ear and out the other.

And, your inexperience in magic was no exception.

Mammon had come up with a brilliant idea to use your magic to help him cheat at the casino so that he could “win big”.

Everything about the scheme seemed like a terrible idea, so naturally you declined.

But, Mammon was persistent and begged you to help him until you caved.

The casino wasn’t the regular one that Mammon went to. This one was on a nice ship and it was one that was only passing through.

It was perfect because even if they caught Mammon cheating, they wouldn’t be around past that one night.

You sat at the bar while Mammon went to the tables to play. He thought that if the two of you were standing next to each other the entire time, it would be easier to spot that he was cheating.

You had no expectations of this working, but you gave it your best shot anyway.

All you had to do was change the cards in Mammon’s hand to ones that he could win with.

You chanted a spell quietly under your breath and then watched intensely as Mammon turned over the cards in his hands, revealing a winning hand. 

You let out a small chuckle, surprised at the results and Mammon looked at you from the table, a happy-go-lucky smile on his face as he sent you a wink.

You continued to say the same spell, and to your surprise, Mammon was gathering a large sum of money. Everything was going well.

“Hey, are you using magic?” you heard someone say as they roughly grabbed your arm, making you snap your eyes open.

Magic was strictly prohibited at the casino because people could easily use it to cheat.

You were trying to come up with a reasonable excuse when you felt a familiar hand grab yours and pull you towards him.

“Time to run!” Mammon told you, pulling you past people, his winnings tucked into his arm as he held onto them for dear life.

“You’ve gotta use your magic to block ‘em!” Mammon told you, noticing a few of the security detail closing in on the two of you. 

You meant to move the furniture around to block the path after the two of you, but instead, you sent the furniture flying in every which way.

You heard people screaming and running as they tried to dodge the flying tables and chairs that were now putting holes into the walls of the ship. “Whoops,” you said under your breath.

“Watch out!” Mammon yelled. You turned to look in front of you and noticed someone almost grabbed you.

You moved your hand in panic and watched as the demon went flying overboard. “Sorry!” you shouted after him.

“We’re gonna have to jump. Can you make a boat?’ Mammon asked, not waiting for you to answer before jumping off the ship and bringing you along.

A yacht would have done or even a canoe or a raft, but it seemed the more panicked you were, the more unpredictable your magic was.

Suddenly, a massive pirate ship appeared out of thin air and you hit the deck with a small thud as you felt like you could finally breathe again.

Somehow, the ship was steering itself away from the casino ship, but you weren’t about to start asking questions.

You let out a small breath of relief and you heard Mammon suddenly burst into laughter beside you. “Your magic - is really - somethin’,” he told you, nearly crying from laughing so hard.

You gave him a playful smack but couldn’t help but smile at how hard he was laughing.

Next time, you were going to make sure you were fully in control before agreeing to use your magic.

Levi was not one that liked to get in trouble with Lucifer.

Typically, he just tried to keep his head down and do his own thing.

As long as he could be a proper otaku, he was okay.

He didn’t feel the need to get you involved in schemes like his other brothers did.

In fact, he had made a promise to himself to never make you use your magic unless it was an absolute emergency.

And those last six words were key in his promise.

Because an incredibly rare new Ruri-chan figurine had just been released and it was going at an unbelievably fast rate for an incredibly high price.

Normally, Levi would have money saved up for this precise situation, but he had lent some to Mammon, mostly to get him to stop asking, and his older brother hadn’t paid him back yet.

Of course, Levi had done everything from begging and pleading to threatening Mammon to get his money back, but there was no money to give.

So, with no one else to turn to for help, he went to his true friend.

He would never beg you for money like a certain scumbag.

Instead, he just wanted you to use your magic to help him get one of the figurines.

He figured between his hacking skills and your magic, there was no way the two of you wouldn’t be able to swindle one.

You reluctantly agreed to help Levi, knowing how much it meant to him to get the figurine.

You didn’t know exactly what spell you were supposed to say, but you followed Levi’s lead.

He clearly had a plan and nothing would stop him from executing it.

You did as Levi asked and held your breath as you stared at the computer screen.

“Thank you for your purchase,” soon popped up on the screen and Levi let out a shout of triumph while you let out a breath of relief. Finally, your magic went the right way.

Suddenly a loud spark sounded from the computer and you and Levi shared an uneasy look. Spoke too soon.

The spark was followed by multiple smaller ones and then suddenly Levi’s entire computer was on fire.

“What do we do?” you asked Levi who was panicking at the thought of his entire setup going up in flames.

“Do a water spell,” he replied, his eyes wide, the fire reflecting off them.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you replied, looking at the consequences of the magic you had just performed.

The flames grew even larger, threatening to burn everything in sight; and, in an attempt to save his otaku haven, Levi did the only thing he thought was logical - he summoned Lotan.

And while it did stop the fire from spreading, summoning Lotan once again flooded the House of Lamentation.

Lucifer immediately knew the source. After all, there was only one brother who summoned Lotan.

Levi got his rare figurine, but you and Levi had to sit through an incredibly long lecture from Lucifer about using magic properly and not doing it for something as simple as a doll.

And after he said that, you had to listen to an even longer lecture from Levi, explaining to Lucifer how the figure he bought wasn’t a doll.

Satan was someone who was quite skilled in magic.

He studied spells and curses religiously, always trying to find one to use against Lucifer.

And because of his studying, he knew a lot about training someone in magic as well.

After all, he taught himself almost everything he knew about it.

And, Satan was having a hard time controlling his rage when it came to you and Solomon.

He knew that Solomon was only training you in magic, but in his opinion, the two of you were spending way too much time together.

And the fact that the two of you were always alone together with no one to keep Solomon in check drove Satan crazy.

So, he decided to take some of your training upon himself.

Naturally, you were grateful for the opportunity. After all, everyone knew how talented Satan was in everything he did.

Not to mention, there were a few other times Satan had tutored you in other subjects. So you were sure he would be an excellent teacher of magic.

He would never tell you this, but Satan wore a smug smile the whole day you agreed to let him teach you.

He was just hoping Solomon would ask him why Satan was smiling.

The two of you agreed to meet in one of the magic classrooms after school. They would already have any spellbooks or ingredients the two of you needed and they were well-built in case something went wrong.

You sat down at one of the desks and began reading one of the spellbooks.

Satan sat down next to you, taking a peek at what you were reading. “Has Solomon been teaching you a lot of spells?” he asked.

You looked up from your book and softly shook your head no. “Not really, he’s more of the experiment and see what happens type than following spells in a spellbook,” you replied.

Satan let out a small chuckle before saying, “For someone just learning magic, the results must be a bit unpredictable.”

You chuckled in response before nodding your head and telling him, “You have no idea.”

Satan then gently took the spellbook from you and began flipping through it.

You leaned in a bit closer, taking a look over his shoulder as he skimmed through the pages, looking for the perfect spell.

“Here, this one is simple,” Satan told you and you read through it briefly.

It was simple candle magic. All you had to do was light a candle.

Satan got the candle and placed it in front of you and you followed the spell exactly how it was written in the spellbook.

You closed your eyes to focus and then opened them again to light the candle.

Instead of lighting the candle, you managed to create a large fireball that flew through the classroom and burned a hole in the wall in front of you.

You winced at the damage and then turned to look at Satan who was staring at the hole with wide eyes, temporarily at a loss for words.

You were getting more and more anxious the longer Satan remained silent, unsure if he was going to laugh, get angry, or give you a long lecture.

After another moment, Satan took in a deep breath before locking eyes with you and telling you, “No more training with Solomon.”

You let out a small sigh, once again taking in the destruction you caused before replying, “Fair enough.”

Because Asmo and Solomon had a strong friendship, it was common for Asmo to be at your magic lessons.

He usually wasn’t listening to what you were being taught. Instead, he would do his nails in the background or start planning his next social media video.

Of course, he would take intermittent breaks from doing his own things to be your own personal cheerleader, encouraging you as much as he could.

And if you were ever starting to get tired, Asmo would be the first to tell Solomon the lesson was over for the day because you needed rest.

Because Asmo was hanging around the two of you often, it also made him the perfect test subject.

Today, you were working a potion to bring someone good luck and fortune.

Solomon had been a little lenient on the ingredients that you were using, wanting to see if you would be able to create the potion on your own, using your own intuition.

You were completely against the idea but Solomon swore that you wouldn’t be able to do magic on your own if you didn’t learn how to be independent with it instead of following a spellbook.

His logic made some sense, but you were also beyond nervous. 

All you had to do was make the potion and then get Asmo to drink it.

Asmo, having not listened to what was going on, was more than happy to try your potion, accepting it as a gift from you.

You watched in anticipation as Asmo downed the mysterious liquid.

Asmo let out a small cough after drinking it, telling you, “It has a good kick to it.”

You held your breath as a pink mist slowly surrounded Asmo and in the blink of an eye, Asmo was no longer standing there.

In his place, on the ground, sat a beautifully made wicked cupcake.

Solomon took a step closer before crouching down and examining the cupcake, letting out a quiet sound of questioning.

“What were you thinking about when you made the potion?” Solomon asked you, glancing up at you from his spot on the ground.

“I was thinking about what you told me. In order to make a good potion of fortune, you have to think of the person you intend on giving the potion to and what would bring them fortune,” you replied.

“What do you think would make Asmo more fortunate?” Solomon questioned curiously.

“Being more irresistible,” you answered.

“As irresistible as a wicked cupcake?” Solomon asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you, a hint of a smile on his face.

You let out a small gasp as you realized you had turned your friend into a cupcake.

“Is it reversible?” you asked Solomon and he nodded his head, standing up to his original position.

Solomon chanted a spell quietly and you watched as Asmo slowly morphed back into himself.

When he was fully back, you and his locked eyes, and you immediately began apologizing.

Asmo stopped you after your third apology and told you, “How about we just save your potions for Mammon from now on, ‘kay?”

You were in your bedroom, studying hard for an upcoming exam when there was suddenly a knock on your door.

You invited the person in without getting up or even looking up from your book.

So, it wasn’t until they were sitting down next to you that you were able to see who it was.

A small smile formed on your lips as you saw the orange-haired Avatar of Gluttony sitting there with an unusually large pouty look on his face.

“Are you okay?’ you asked him and his big puppy dog eyes looked up at you as he shook his head no.

“I ate everything in the fridge and Lucifer said that I couldn’t eat anymore until dinner,” Beel replied.

“Well, dinner is just in a couple of hours. You should be fine, right?” you questioned, and Beel let out a small sigh.

“I worked out twice as hard today to get ready for the big game. So, my appetite is twice as big and I only had half the amount of food I usually would post-workout,” Beel explained.

As if to confirm what Beel was saying, his stomach let out an unnaturally loud growl and Beel winced slightly in pain from the hunger.

“I’m sorry Beel, if I had any snacks in here, I would give them to you,” you told him and he let out another sigh as his mind began turning.

“Maybe you could make a snack appear,” Beel suggested, his eyes lighting up at the idea.

You immediately understood where he was going with this and you shook your head, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please, it could be something small. Just to help me last until dinner,” Beel begged you, desperation shining in those big eyes. 

You fully intended to stay away from magic today and just focus on your actual studies, but how could you say no to him when he was begging you so wholeheartedly? 

You took a moment to prepare yourself before doing a spell, and Beel watched your every move eagerly.

Once the spell was completed, you were expecting a small meal on the table, or at the most a couple of things.

Instead, your entire room was covered from floor to ceiling in food.

Beel’s eyes widened in excitement as he told you, “You’re the best at magic.”

He immediately got to eating, and you let out a small chuckle. Of all the consequences that came from your magic, this wasn’t too bad - as long as Beel ate all of it before Lucifer found out.

Suddenly, you heard a lot of commotion coming from elsewhere in the House of Lamentation. You and Beel stayed quiet to try and focus on the noises you were hearing.

Only then did you realize the other brothers were shouting about how the entire House of Lamentation had been filled with food.

You and Beel shared a look of panic as you heard a familiar set of footsteps coming your way and you knew that another long lecture was just around the corner.

Belphie liked to be a little more hands-on with his magic than simple spells.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

He and Satan were up to true Anti-Lucifer League business and they had found the perfect spell to try and prank Lucifer with. 

Belphie gathered all the ingredients and it was up to Satan to actually perform the spell since he was more proficient when it came to magic.

Somehow, like always, Lucifer had caught wind that the two of them were up to something and Lucifer had decided to lock Satan in his room for the time being under the pretense that, “He was too busy right now to have to deal with something childish.”

This naturally only made Belphie and Satan even more angry and now they were hellbent on finding some way to get revenge. 

Belphie still had all of the ingredients and so he approached you - someone who was both in the Anti-Lucifer League and learning magic.

You were already treading in deep water with Lucifer because of your previous magic mishaps. 

You were pretty sure that you were one more mistake from him banning you from using magic ever again.

So, the last thing you wanted to do was use a spell that specifically targeted the eldest.

But, Belphie was very convincing and before you knew it, the two of you were in the Assembly Hall, quietly scheming.

The spell itself was simple enough to cast. All you had to was put the ingredients together and then cast it on the intended victim’s chair. 

Then, when that person sat in the chair, vines would slowly wrap around them, entrapping them in the chair.

You had suggested that you perform the spell on the chair in Lucifer’s study but Belphie thought it would be so much funnier if it happened in front of Lord Diavolo.

This left the two of you trying to quickly get this spell done in the Assembly Room because Diavolo and Lucifer could walk in any second.

“That’s all of the ingredients,” Belphie told you and you nodded your head, knowing it was your turn now.

You began chanting the spell and everything was going smoothly.

Right as you were stating the last part of the spell, you suddenly heard voices outside the door of the Assembly Hall.

You faltered at the idea of being caught, and in that moment you had turned away from the chair slightly as you finished the spell.

Suddenly, you heard a strangled shout from Belphie and immediately looked in his direction, only to find that you were already facing him. 

You realized you had cast the spell at him, and instead of a chair turning into vines and trapping him, they came down from the ceiling, wrapping him up and suspending him from the roof and covering his mouth.

You let out a small gasp, somewhat stifling some laughter as you watched the youngest squirm in the air, doing whatever he could to get out of his restraints.

You didn’t have enough time to help him before you heard the door to the Assembly Hall open and you quickly hid, knowing that it wouldn’t do either of you any good if you got caught.

You covered your mouth to stay silent and you listened as Barbatos, Diavolo, and Lucifer all seemed to be in conversation. 

All conversation stopped though the moment they laid eyes on Belphie, helplessly strung up from the ceiling.

Lucifer let out a long sigh as he stared at his brother before sitting down in his chair.

“Shouldn’t we help him?” Diavolo asked but Lucifer shook his head.

“This is his own fault, I’m sure of it. Let’s continue with the meeting,” Lucifer replied and you once again had to stifle your laughter at the thought of Belphie hanging from the air, slightly swinging with a look of rage on his face as he attempted to curse Lucifer.

Diavolo had heard about your unfortunate magic mishaps from Lucifer a few different times.

And every time, Diavolo laughed wholeheartedly as Lucifer explained exactly what happened.

He found it both amusing and endearing that your magic was so unpredictable.

And he had to admit he was starting to feel a little left out that everyone was getting to have such fun experiences with you except him.

He wanted a chance to experience your magic for himself, so he invited you over to the Demon Lord’s Castle.

He told you that he simply wanted to evaluate your progress in magic, even though he had gotten plenty of progress reports from the eldest demon brother.

He invited you into one of the many rooms of the Demon Lord’s Castle.

Despite most of the rooms being completely furnished, this room was nearly empty - perfect for magical misfires.

He tried to remind himself to breathe as you began performing a spell, waiting on the edge of his seat for what was about to happen.

There was something exciting about not knowing what events were about to occur.

Diavolo asked you to perform a simple teleportation spell.

You tried and tried, but every time you opened your eyes, you and Diavolo were still in the Demon Lord’s Castle.

You let out a sigh after the fifth attempt and Diavolo gave you a supporting smile.

“Maybe some fresh air will help,” Diavolo suggested, motioning for you to follow him. 

You nodded your head and followed him to the door of the castle, but when he opened it, you realized that none of the surroundings outside looked normal.

Diavolo froze for a moment, noticing the same thing you did, and as he tried to piece together where the two of you were, you realized that the teleportation spell did work.

But, instead of teleporting the two of you like you were supposed to, you teleported the entire castle.

You held your breath as you waited for Diavolo to say something, and when he didn’t, you were afraid he was mad at you.

You were about to ask him as much when he started laughing. It started as a small chuckle, but by the end of it, he was practically doubled over from laughing so hard.

“This is fantastic,” you heard him mutter under his breath before he turned to you, closing the door.

“Try and get us back to the Devildom,” Diavolo told you. 

You took in a deep breath, before reciting the spell, silently praying that it would work. 

Praying - that was a mistake.

As Diavolo opened the door again, you realized that you recognized your surroundings this time, but it wasn’t the Devildom. It was the Celestial Realm.

Diavolo seemed a bit concerned as he looked around. “We should leave here immediately,” Diavolo stated, shutting the door and letting out a small sigh.

Your hands shook slightly as you realized the mistake of bringing the ruler of the Devildom to the Celestial Realm and you quickly recited the spell again, desperate to get out of there.

This time, when Diavolo opened the door, you heard a terrible screeching followed by a large fireball flying toward you and Diavolo.

He quickly shut the door, barely saving both of your lives and you chanted the spell one last time.

You let out a deep breath of relief as you saw the usual Devildom surrounding you when Diavolo opened the door this time. 

“I’m not doing that ever again,” you told him, feeling like you had just gone ten rounds in a boxing ring.

Diavolo let out another chuckle, a smile resting on his face as he looked at you. He clearly enjoyed himself.

He didn’t get the chance to enjoy himself much and he noticed that whenever he did, you were always somewhat involved.

“With more training, I’m sure you’ll get your powers under control,” Diavolo reassured you.

He wasn’t mad at you, but he also probably wouldn’t ask you to use your magic again until you’ve had a bit more practice.

A trip to the Celestial Realm and nearly getting incinerated was enough excitement to last him for a while.

Diavolo may not have been mad at what happened, but Barbatos certainly was.

He wasn’t mad at you - he could never be mad at you.

But, he was mad at Lord Diavolo. The young master knew how unpredictable your powers were and yet he still asked you to use them.

And he was the most mad at Solomon. Though, that was a grudge he had been holding onto for a while. Barbatos was always looking for a reason to be mad at Solomon.

And your lack of control in magic certainly qualified as one.

Solomon had been entrusted with teaching you magic since he was supposed to be a great and knowledgeable sorcerer.

But, Barbatos was beginning to doubt Solomon’s abilities.

And, since your magic had nearly gotten the young master killed, Barbatos could no longer let this slide.

Barbatos had invited you over to the Demon Lord’s Castle once again to try and teach you magic his way.

He was a very powerful demon himself and he knew how hard it was to control your powers.

It took him a long time and lots of experience before he was fully able to master his own powers.

And you had to admit, out of everyone, Barbatos had come the closest to getting you to perform magic without anything going wrong.

He had put every ounce into helping you concentrate and take slow, deliberate movements so that every single part of the spell was performed correctly.

It was a transfiguration spell. There was a cat statue in front of you and all you had to do was make it real.

But, when you opened your eyes, you realized the horror and chaos that you had created.

There wasn’t just one creature in front of you, but at least a dozen. And, they weren’t cats but rats. And there in the middle of it all sat Barbatos, his eyes wide and crazed.

You were certain he was about to freak out and you were proven correct as Barbatos suddenly stood up and sprinted out of the room, returning with the proper supplies to get rid of the rats.

He was frantically chasing them around the room and you felt terrible, so you attempted to help him.

You wanted to teleport the rats to the underground labyrinth but instead, you teleported yourself and Barbatos down there.

“At least I got the right location this time,” you said sheepishly as you looked at Barbatos who had a somewhat exasperated look on his face.

Before you knew what was happening, Barbatos had you locked down in his room, you presumed so that you couldn’t do any more damage.

It took him hours to get every last rat out of the castle and when he finally did, he returned to you in his room.

He seemed much calmer now that the rats were gone and he even brought you some tea to apologize for locking you in his bedroom.

He promised that he would help you get better control of your powers, but no more transfiguration spells until you completely mastered them.

Simeon had seen you at Purgatory Halls many times since you went there a lot for your magic lessons with Solomon.

But, Simeon rarely listened in on your lessons or watched you perform magic, so he had no idea if it was going well or poorly.

He assumed things were going well since there were no accidents that happened at Purgatory Hall.

But, that was mostly because when you went there, Solomon had you reading spell books and getting familiar with different types of spells.

He saved the actual practice of magic for the classrooms at school or outdoor areas - somewhere he believed it would be okay for a mishap to happen.

So, how was Simeon supposed to know your magic was unpredictable?

Luke’s birthday was coming up and Simeon wanted to surprise him by baking a special cake since Luke loved all things sweet.

Simeon knew how to bake a simple cake, but he didn’t think that would be enough.

He wanted something more extravagant - something that would surprise Luke.

So, he enlisted your help and asked you to help him bake the cake.

Simeon believed with your powers and his baking ability, the two of you could bake something that would truly surprise Luke.

And that’s what you thought about the entire time. In your mind, you wanted to surprise him by possibly creating a cake that reminded him of the Celestial Realm or one of his favorite things.

So, you were really disappointed when the cake came out looking like just an ordinary cake.

Simeon reassured you that it was fine and that you did your best. He promised you that it would taste great and Luke would love it anyway.

Everyone gathered in the Assembly Hall after school as a makeshift party for Luke and Simeon brought the cake before running off to fetch him.

The others complimented the cake that you and Simeon made and you thanked them kindly without giving them any more details.

After the experiences you and all of them had with your magic, you were sure that they would be afraid of any cake that was made with your magic.

So, you figured it would be better not to tell them about it. Besides, the cake came out completely normal, so no harm no foul, right?

Luke came into the Assembly Hall a bit timidly, afraid of why he was being summoned to a room full of the Devildom’s most powerful demons.

But, as he looked around, he quickly understood what was happening.

The smile on his face as he now confidently walked up to the rest of you was enough to make baking the cake worth it and you proudly presented him with the cake.

Everyone wished Luke a happy birthday and then you lit the candles and told him to make a wish and blow them out.

Luke did as he was told, but when he blew the candles out, he was met with disaster as the cake exploded.

Everyone in the room, including you, and most of the furniture was coated in both the cake and its frosting and other miscellaneous toppings.

You stood there, still holding the plate the cake was on and you realized that your powers did have an effect on the cake.

“Surprise,” you weakly said as everyone turned to face you. A deep blush coated your cheeks at the mistake, but thankfully, the cake hid most of it.

You sat down the plate that you were holding and attempted to fix the situation by using magic, but Solomon stopped you and performed the spell himself.

He knew that you could fix the situation if you were given the chance, but the look in Lucifer’s eyes after being covered in cake gave Solomon the feeling that he was about to lose it.

So, he performed the spell himself for your sake and miraculously the cake managed to come off the furniture.

Everyone had to go home to get the cake off themselves and you decided to go to Purgatory Hall with the angels and Solomon. You felt terrible about ruining Luke’s birthday cake.

Once you were all cleaned up, Simeon apologized for making you use your powers and explained that he didn’t realize they were a bit unpredictable.

He felt like he pressured you to use them but once you reassured him that you wanted to help do something nice, a lot of the weight was lifted off his shoulders.

He offered to bring you some books on magic from the Celestial Realm, hoping that there would be some different information in them that might help you learn to control your powers.

As for Luke, he didn’t understand why you had baked him an exploding cake, but he wasn’t angry and he was definitely surprised.

He just wished he had been able to eat a piece before it exploded everywhere.

Solomon had been hearing an earful from almost everyone about your magic training.

No one seemed to think he was doing a good enough job at helping you control your magic.

But they didn’t realize how hard it was to train someone in magic, let alone someone who was as powerful as you.

A lot of people thought that the unpredictable consequences of using your magic were mistakes but Solomon thought differently.

He thought it was a good thing for you to experience all the goods and bads of your magic.

It was the only way you were going to get a full grasp of your abilities and how powerful you were.

Solomon loved being experimental when it came to magic.

He didn’t give you spell books to read from or give you specific instructions on how to perform a spell.

If he did, then you would become dependent on those things, unable to perform a successful spell without wanting to refer to a book first.

Solomon wanted you to be able to figure things out for yourself - to be able to perform magic on your own without needing help from someone else, or a spell book.

And he always looked on the bright side of things if something did go wrong.

So what if you turned the cat statue into rats instead of a real cat? At least you were able to do a transfiguration spell.

And maybe you teleported the entire Demon’s Lord Castle to a few different places you didn’t mean to; but, most sorcerers have a hard time doing teleportation spells on themselves, let alone something so big.

Everything you did and every consequence that may have come from it was all a testament to your powers and it always made Solomon proud.

Because of the incessant lectures from the others, Solomon would do his best to help you control your powers.

But, he’ll never treat your mishaps as something negative. In fact, sometimes he even encouraged them.

There was one time that a potion you had been making accidentally backfired on Solomon rendering him unable to speak properly.

Every time he spoke, his words would get jumbled together so he couldn’t reverse the spell himself or tell you how to do it.

Eventually, you had to go to Satan to help and although he agreed, he gave Solomon a long “I told you so” conversation about how this is why he needed to be more proactive in helping you control your powers.

That was the closest Solomon ever came to being “upset” about something that happened with your magic, but even then it was just because of Satan’s speech.

There has never been a day where Solomon wasn’t grateful that he got the opportunity to teach you though.

Not only did he enjoy getting the chance to grow closer to you, but he had never met someone with such magic potential.

[thehypnone]

virgin dew.. and aether? 🙏🙏

“Mount?” Aether whisper-shouts from behind the half open door to his bedroom. “Mountain?”

“I’m here, come in,” the earth ghoul calls out and Aether enters, carefully shutting the door behind himself. “What’s up?”

“Does the new water ghoul want to kill my ass or am I crazy?” he asks as he sits at the foot of Mountain’s bed where he’s reading a book. The question makes him snort out a laugh.

“The second option's more likely, but elaborate.”

“He’s constantly around just–” Aether gestures widely, “staring at me all the time with that creepy look like he wants to eat me!”

The earth ghoul raises his eyebrows and curls his lips into a smirk, “Oh, he wants to eat you alright…”

“What!?” Aether looks mildly terrified, but also confused as to why Mountain seems to be enjoying this so much. 

“Is this…” Mountain sighs, “your first water ghoul? Met one before?”

“Yes…I mean no, I never knew one.”

“That explains it,” the earth ghoul mutters, more to himself than the other. He sits up, then, to get closer to Aether, grabs his shoulders and looks deep into his amethyst eyes. “Dewdrop wants to fuck you.”

“Huh…HUH!?”

“That’s what water ghouls just do, they’re weird!” Mountain laughs. “Trust me, if he wanted to actually eat you in a cannibalistic way, you’d be at the bottom of the lake already.”

“So you’re saying…”

“Go to him, give him something—anything, like a small trinket, preferably shiny—and he’s yours,” he explains and Aether takes a mental note of his words. “Unless you’re not interested, of course.”

“Fuck, no, he’s the sexiest little thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”

“Thanks,” the earth ghoul scoffs lightheartedly.

“Aw, I said little!” Aether defends himself and leans in for a kiss, “you’re the sexiest big thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”

“Good save,” the other admits. “Now go get your siren.”

The quintessence ghoul nods and gets up to head to the door. “You’re not taking a piss, right?”

“Not this time. Good luck!” Mountain says before the other leaves again. From there, Aether goes straight to his own room to search for something shiny. He is a trinket guy, so it should be easy.

Indeed, a few minutes later he emerges with something hidden in his fist and crosses the corridor to the water ghoul’s door. Still a bit unsure if Mountain isn’t pranking him, he knocks on Dewdrop’s door.

And even though he knocked it startles him when it opens. Aether looks down at the water ghoul who hasn’t said one word to him yet since he was summoned—he just stares.

“Hi,” the quintessence ghoul says, “I’ve brought you something.”

Dewdrop cocks his head to the side curiously at the words. Aether extends his arm and opens his hand to reveal a shell with a bit of blue resin in it to make it look like water. He got it at some dingy stand a while back when he got to visit the seaside.

The water ghoul finally pulls his eyes away from Aether and looks down at the gift. He reaches for it and upon the other’s encouragement grabs it to twist it in his hands and inspect it. Suddenly—still without a word—he slams the door in the quintessence ghoul’s face, stunning him.

Confused, Aether just stands there

And a good thing he does, because a few seconds later the door opens again and he gets grabbed and pulled into the room with a yelp. Another few seconds later he gets thrown onto a bed and another few he’s got Dewdrop straddling him.

Now he understands Mountain’s words.

“Hi,” the water ghoul says finally and this simple word is enough to make Aether’s head spin. If Dewdrop’s face is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, then his voice is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard.

“Hi,” he repeats dumbly.

“You’ve already said that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You want to have sex with me?” Dewdrop asks; Aether’s hard dick under his ass not clear an answer.

“Uh-huh.”

“Good,” the water ghoul mumbles before digging his sharp claws into the other’s shirt and quite literally ripping it off. Aether is pretty sure there is not a drop of blood left in his brain by now. “You can teach me.”

That sobers him up.

“Wait, teach?” he asks. “You…you’ve had sex before, right?”

Dewdrop shakes his head.

“Oh, damn, well…are you sure you want me to be your first? Mountain would be better at it.”

Dewdrop nods.

“I’ve been watching you,” he says as if Aether didn’t notice, “I want you.”

The quintessence ghoul can’t really argue with that. “Alright. I’ll teach you. Can we switch places?”

Dewdrop obliges, crawling off of and laying next to him. Aether shucks off the remaining scraps of his shirt and kneels beside the other. He grabs the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it up when the other lets him.

Aether can barely keep himself from drooling as more and more skin of the water ghoul’s skin is revealed. Next come off his pants and by Dewdrop’s own hands, his underwear—he’s laying entirely bare before the entranced Aether.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathes out as his hands go to his own belt on autopilot. In no time at all—making sure he’s not making the other uncomfortable—the quintessence ghoul is naked, too.

Once he is, Dewdrop’s hands come up to his chest chest and stomach and thighs to all but grope at him greedily. Aether can barely contain himself from mounting him and fucking the living hell out of him right there.

Instead, he is being a gentleman. “Want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” the water ghoul breathes, spreading his legs where he’s kneeling in front of Aether. With shaky hands, he reaches out to Dewdrop’s thigh first, revelling in the softness of his skin for a moment before trailing upwards.

“Is it okay if I–”

“Yes.”

Aether moves his hand a little bit higher up to the water ghoul’s already dripping cunt. He gently parts his fold and runs a finger along his slit, eliciting himself a soft gasp in return.

“Alright?” he asks to make sure.

“Keep going,” Dewdrop replies. “Please.”

So Aether does.

[lunasdream]

baby i'm-a want you / jack abbot

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈: jack abbot x f! reader

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: literally a story about one pining man who prefers to work the night shift until he doesn’t.

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈: implied age gap (10-15 years?), slight injuries, being drunk, talks of broken legs but not explicit

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓇’𝓈 𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ:  i haven’t written anything in years and have not been on this blog for years omg! i am absolutely in love with the pitt and jack abbot, it’s not perfect but i hope you enjoy! <3 title comes from a bread song! okay bye!

𝒲𝒸: 3.4k

You actually loved where you worked–honestly you did. Most of the people were great (a few questionable characters, sure, but that's life), and having your cousin Mateo around the place felt less like a hospital and more like a second home. He thrived in the chaos of the ER, always buzzing with adrenaline, while you preferred the quieter corners as a clinical psychologist–less blood, more brain. It was a good balance. Still, you always told yourself one thing: as much as you cared about the hospital, you never wanted to come back unless it was for work. No visits, no check-ins, no surprise emergencies. Just you, your badge, and maybe—just maybe—a good cup of hospital tea if you got lucky. 

What began as a carefree evening—a glittering blur of laughter, cocktails, and the kind of reckless joy only found on warm nights and crowded sidewalks–quickly devolved into an impromptu trip to the emergency room. You were both kind of inebriated, the haze of alcohol still clinging to your senses, dressed in clothes that belonged to a different kind of night–ones meant for dim lighting and loud music, not the cold scrutiny of a hospital corridor. 

It wasn’t fate that intervened–just a cracked piece of sidewalk and the kind of bad luck that shows up without warning. One wrong step, a shift in balance, and your best friend hit the ground hard, clutching her ankle with the quiet disbelief of someone realizing the night had taken a turn you wouldn’t laugh about just yet. You tried to break her fall, but all you managed to do was cushion it—her weight crashing into you, the impact leaving scratches along your arms and hands as she landed against you with a sharp grunt. 

“Fuck—we have to call an ambulance,” you said, panic and tequila swirling your voice. 

She squinted up at you, mascara slightly smudged, pain masking her indignation. 

“Please just call an Uber. I refuse to make a scene.” 

As much as you wanted to spare her the embarrassment–and the inevitable bill–you knew an Uber wasn’t the answer, not unless you were willing to sit there, waiting for what felt like an eternity. So, with little choice, the ambulance became the only option left. Everything after that blurred into a haze—the blaring sirens of the ambulance echoing in your ears, drowning out everything else. Between the worry for your best friend and the fog of alcohol still lingering in your system, the ride to the hospital became a memory you could hardly grasp. 

That ambulance ride felt like it would never end—comforting your friend, trying to keep it together while drunk, doing your best not to look suspicious. You even had to pretend the scratches on your arm didn’t hurt, like they weren't stinging the whole time. It might've been the hardest thing you’ve ever pulled off. By the time you got to the hospital, all you could do was hope no one made a big deal out of it. 

As if on cue, the ambulance doors swung open, revealing Dr. Elis and Dr. Shen, standing in the cool, sterile light, their faces a study in practiced calm. With the precision of seasoned professionals, they held their ground, eyes scanning for any sign of chaos, ready to face whatever urgent situation was about to unfold. They almost didn't notice you because of how focused they were. 

They faltered for just a moment, their minds clearly racing through the worst-case scenarios, until the paramedics spoke up—’suspected broken leg’ for your friend. That was enough to ground them, the weight of their tension lifting as they recalibrated, ready to handle whatever came next. 

Ellis smirks, glancing over at you. ‘You know, you don’t have to break any legs to come see us,’ she remarks, while Shen immediately goes and helps your friend. He comments, “Hmm no bone sticking out, bummer.” 

You giggle as she helps you down the ambulance, her knowing glance telling you she could tell you were drunk just by the way you stumbled down. You almost forgot about the cuts on your arm until she noticed, her fingers brushing over them gently, a soft reminder of what you’d almost ignored. She gave you a look that said, clear as day, ‘You really thought I wouldn’t notice’—half amused, half concerned, and totally calling you out without a single word. 

A while later, you’re with your best friend—she’s a little out of it from the pain medication and you’re half-laying on the edge of her hospital bed, just grateful it was only a broken leg and nothing more serious. You’d sobered up by now—sleepy, a bit delirious, but still in good spirits. Mostly hungry, and for some reason, all you could think about were those raspberry cookies from the vending machine. 

 On the other side of the emergency room, word about you and your friend has quietly made the rounds—shared in hushed tones behind desks and passed along with knowing glances, as if the entire first floor was on something unspoken. 

Although they’d never admit it, most people in the ED had a quiet appreciation for the drama that occasionally unfolded around them. Silly moments were something to look forward to—brief flashes of levity in a place that demanded strength, focus, and more patience than most people realized. The ED wasn’t for the faint of heart. And while the day shift kept things running like a well-practiced routine, the night shift operated in its own rhythm—slower, weirder, a little rough around the edges, but deeply loyal in their own way. 

So you can imagine the quiet buzz of excitement when they saw you walk in—guided to a room by Dr. Ellis, dressed not in your usual work attire but in a fitted dress and delicate kitten heels that were clearly more designer than practical, looking every bit put-together even if you didn’t quite feel it. Your shifts usually landed in the middle of the day, often stretching a little later than scheduled—which meant you occasionally caught glimpses of both the day and night shift dynamics. 

It was rare to be called down to the ED just for your help—usually they sent patients up to you. 

The main reason you ever made your way down there was to see your cousin, even if it was just for a second.

 You were well-liked around the hospital, having built a solid reputation for yourself. As a young psychologist—something of a prodigy in school—you stood out, not just for your skill but for your warmth. You treated your patients, colleagues, and everyone you meet with genuine kindness. Your smile brought a little light to the hospital's sterile halls, and your laugh had a way of softening even the toughest days. You loved chatting with coworkers, always curious about the little things that went on behind the scenes. 

So of course it wasn’t much of a surprise that you crossed paths with Jack Abbot—the night shift attending—during your occasional visits to the ED. You found him endearing—his dry humor didn’t always land with others, but it never failed to make you smile. You’d given him that familiar look of quiet amusement, the kind that made it clear you were paying attention—and that you appreciated the way his mind worked. 

You weren't naive—you knew you turned heads. You’re gorgeous and people naturally looked when you walked into a room. Over time, you’d gotten pretty good at spotting the signs—who had a crush, who was trying not to stare, who was just a little too obvious. You tried to brush off the lingering looks Abbot gave you—the way he subtly puffs out his chest or always angled his body toward you in conversation. It was obvious, in that quiet kind of way, that his attention was reserved just for you. But you ignored it, pretending not to notice, even when it was a little too obvious to miss. Bets were already placed—how long it would take before he finally worked up the courage to make a move—even if you were still “blissfully” unaware of just how much he was quietly pining. 

He had been working on a patient who came in coughing with blood when you and your friend arrived in the ambulance. He didn’t have any clue that you were there. His attention was fully on the patient, determined to figure out what was causing the bleeding. Jack was always like that, laser-focused when it came to his work. Once he wrapped up, he’d head over to the nurses’ station to update the records. 

As Abbot nears the station, a familiar laugh floats from one of the curtained rooms. He pauses, just for a second. It was probably nothing—his mind playing tricks—but the sound lingered in his mind a little longer than it should have. 

“Seeing her drunk like that is making me feel jealous, like I should be out drinking with my friends,” Ellis says to Shen, who nods in agreement with a chuckle. 

“I can’t drink like that anymore—I’d end up like her friend, but with both legs broken,” Shen says with a smirk. 

“I don’t know what or who you're talking about,” Jack says, deadpan, as he begins typing up his reports. “But just know I could outdrink both of you any day.” Then, without looking up, he adds, “Now go check on the ambulance bay and save the gossip for the break room.” 

Ellis and Shen share a quick look, their eyes filled with mischief , before they both grin and go on their merry way.

“I would love some chips and possibly a Pepsi,” your best friend says, batting her eyes at you. Despite the haziness from the pain meds, she definitely needed something greasy. You nod, slowly getting up from the hospital bed, stretching and lazily slipping your heels back on. 

You clumsily move past the curtain, shuddering as the cold air hits you unexpectedly. The chill cuts through the warmth that's still lingering from the hospital bed, and you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself—only to hiss softly when your fingers graze the forgotten cuts along your arm. The sound of your heels tapping unevenly against the floor seems to echo in the halls as you try to find your footing, moving as quickly as you can toward the vending machines. 

The sharp click-clack draws Jack’s attention as it echoes through the halls, cutting through the quiet like an unexpected disruption. When he finally looked up to see where the sound was coming from, he stilled. There you were. The familiar laugh he’d caught earlier suddenly made sense, and a quiet kind of relief settled in his chest—like his mind had not betrayed him after all. You were real, and even in this strange, fluorescent-lit setting, you looked like something pulled out of a dream.

He couldn't help the way his chest tightened a little when he saw you—dressed in a tight dress that made it clear you hadn't planned on ending your night here. You looked stunning, like always, but his eyes were quickly drawn to the small cuts on your arm. It didn't sit right with him, seeing something so carefully put together paired with signs of pain. You shouldn't have had to walk into a hospital looking like that—not like this. 

Jack stands up before he even realizes he’s doing it—some mix of instinct and worry pushing him to his feet. He doesn’t call out, does not move toward you, just stays there quietly, hoping you'll look up and see him as you get closer.  

You weren’t paying much attention—too focused on the vending machine and the snacks you and your friend had been daydreaming about. So when your heel caught on the floor, sending you stumbling forward, it felt almost inevitable. You grabbed the nearest thing—thankfully, the nurses’ station—catching yourself just in time. 

Instead of embarrassment, a laugh escaped you. It was just that kind of night. 

Jack had already moved, hands out just enough to steady you if you fell. 

He didn’t find it amusing like you did.

With a glance at your shoes, he muttered dryly, “Are those hospital-approved footwear?”

Your eyes met his, a flicker of surprise crossing your face before you recovered with ease. “They just approved these, " you said with a light chuckle, lifting your foot slightly to show him. “You didn’t hear?”

His eyes traced for a second longer than necessary before the corner of his mouth twitched—just barely. “Must’ve missed the memo.”

All of a sudden, you feel a little exposed—standing in front of him in that dress, the chill setting in, and suddenly wishing you’d brought a jacket instead of relying on alcohol for warmth. 

Jack notices, saying nothing, but stepping away for a moment. He returns with a blanket, handing it to you without a word.

You take it, wrapping it around yourself as you look up at him. “Thank you,” you say softly. And you mean it.

You start explaining what happened—how the night spiraled, how you and your friend ended up in the ambulance. You know he was curious, even if he hadn't asked. He listens closely, his eyes steady on yours, not judging, just quietly taking it all in. He seems to genuinely feel for your friend—broken bones were no easy feat, and he knew recovery would be painful and slow. 

  You make sure to mention that you’re fine—because you know Jack, and he always worries when it comes to his colleagues. You brush it off with a small shrug and a quick, “The cuts only hurt when I touch them,” trying to keep it light. 

Jack immediately gives you a look, slipping into full doctor mode.

“Then maybe don’t touch them.” His tone is gentle, but just serious enough to earn a teasing eye-roll from you.

“Doctors, you’re all the same,” you mutter playfully, earning the smallest smirk. 

“It’s in my blood.” he replies with a shrug, his tone light but somehow sincere. 

You smile quietly, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. “It’s still hard getting used to that,” you say, your voice light, not really expecting a response but content with the easy moment. 

“Anyways, I promised some snacks for my friend, so, I’ll see you around.” You start to turn, already heading towards the front. 

“I’ll go with you,” Jack says, stepping forward without hesitation.

You stop and turn, surprised. “Oh, you don’t have to. Aren’t you working? Don’t you have patients?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He gives a small shrug, unfazed. “I’m taking a break. Besides, I could use a snack too.”

You feel your face go warm at his comment, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Well, if you insist,” you reply.

You both walk side by side in a comfortable silence, the soft sounds of the hospital around you filling the space. You watch as the place moves in its own rhythm—nurses rushing to their station, doctors calling out to each other, and the steady hum of activity filling the air. There’s something oddly calming about it, despite the busy pace, and for a moment, everything feels just a little more relaxed. 

You feel him looking at you, the weight of his gaze lingering, but you don’t bother to meet his eyes. You don’t need to. The warmth in your cheeks says it all, and you’re not sure if you want to acknowledge it just yet. Instead, you focus on the path ahead, the familiar hospital light overhead, letting the quiet comfort of the walk keep things easy.

  You get ready to reach for your phone, pulling it out to get your payment ready for the snacks, when suddenly, a hand goes past you, tapping his card on the device. “Would you look at that, I have tap too,” he says with a grin.

You glance up at him, a bit surprised, the playful glint in his eyes catches you off guard, and the tension between you both suddenly feels palpable, even in the otherwise busy hospital. “You didn’t have to do that,” you manage, your voice a little softer than you intended, trying to hide the slight warmth spreading in your chest. 

“With the night you had, it's the least I can do. Consider it a donation from the hospital,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. There’s a flicker of something in his voice—warmth, intention—like the words meant more than they let on.

You glance at him, just briefly. “Well…in that case,” you say slowly, your voice playful but soft, “I’ll take a Pepsi too. It’s for my friend, obviously.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you crouch down to grab the snacks, his gaze lingering a second too long before he finally moves. Then he leans down beside you, slow and steady, careful to keep just enough distance—like he wasn’t hovering, but you could feel him there all the same. His presence was grounding, warm in a way that contrasted the energy of the hospital. 

“Obviously,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to make your pulse tick up just slightly. 

The moment passes like nothing happened—simple, easy—but the tension hums in the space between you, quiet and charged, like a spark left just barely untouched. 

You’re back with your friend, sharing snacks and sipping on Pepsi like nothing happened—even though everything clearly did. You’re oddly quiet, staring off like you just came back from war…or a very specific kind of dream.

Your friend eyes you, chewing on a chip with the dramatic flair of someone who lives for the drama. 

“What happened out there?” she asks, eyebrows raised. “You look all flushed and disoriented…Did the vending machine give you snacks and an orgasm?”

You shake your head slowly, still trying to process, cheeks warm as you mumble, “Worse…he paid for the snacks and the drink.”

“Oh my God, was it Abbot?!” she whispers like you just admitted to a crime.

“You don’t even work here how the fuck could you guess that?” you blink at her, caught completely off guard. 

She grins, smug as hell. “Mateo tells me everything. I’ve been wondering when y’all were finally gonna do the dirty—honestly, I thought it would’ve happened by Christmas.”

You stare at her, deadpan. “We were at the vending machine for like five minutes.”

“Exactly,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Plenty of time.”

You burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over with the bag of chips crinkling in the process. It’s not even what she said—it’s how she said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You don’t even have a comeback, you’re laughing too hard to think straight.

Your laughter echoes just enough to catch the attention of the nurses passing by, a few glancing in with amused smiles. Ellis walks in and says, “Must be a good night in here,” and it only makes you laugh harder. 

After Abbot escorted you back to your friend’s room, despite your attempts to wave him off, he suddenly got the call about an incoming patient in critical condition. With barely a moment to spare, he straightened up, professionalism settling back over him, but his eyes stayed on you just a moment longer than usual.

“I’ll be busy for a while,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of seriousness and something a little more teasing. “Find me if you’re still here. I’m sure I’ll be hard to miss.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he turned, already heading back into the chaos of the ER. There was something about the way he moved, so focused yet so casual around you. You’d still be here, waiting for your friend’s boyfriend to arrive. He was visiting family a couple of cities away, but he was on his way now to pick you both up. 

Jack ended up being busier than expected, cases stacking one on top of the other, and you never got around to finding him—not that you could’ve, with your friend’s boyfriend showing up not long after. Honestly, you were a little grateful. You didn’t even want to unravel whatever “come find me” was supposed to mean. Did he just want to chat a little longer? Say a proper goodbye? 

You weren’t sure, and you didn’t want to be sure. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you slumped into the backseat, craving your bed, your pillow, and the luxury of pretending the night never happened. Meanwhile, Jack couldn’t stop thinking about you—how incredibly good you looked despite the chaos. Some of the nurses’ bets about him finally cracking? Yeah, they were getting real close.

[savanir]

DP x DC ficlet

is it even a ficlet anymore, this thing has gotten incredibly out of hand...

So a while back I saw this

and I picked the Green Lantern one and then just kinda wrote a full fic so...

It had been a good party, official yes but despite that still festive enough and with just a bittersweet hint. as all good meaningful parties should be like, unless you’re looking to get absolutely shitfaced.

But hey Rowan deserved a proper sendoff for making it to this point and not dying in the process. Hal is going to miss the old pilot though.

"Hal, I got something for you, before I forget"

"Hm, what is it"

The old man puts a small intricate glass model of a f16 fighter in his hand.

"Back when I started I was given this for good luck and protection"

Rowan presses it down firmly and stands there all official like "may it grant you both as it did for me"

They both stand there for a second before laughing.

“Feel free to shelf the whole luck thing, what’s really important is skill and experience. Still, knowing you, you can definitely use the protection ”

Hal grins, "Thanks, I'll keep close"

"You better, the sentimental value is sky high" Rowan slaps his shoulder with another laugh.

Good lord what a dork.

The old retiring pilot wasn't paying attention, too caught up in everything else but Hal saw the faint and brief green hue coming from his hand.

In a panic he slammed his other hand over top. Completely missing the quietly whispered "protect"

Too busy cussing out his ring in his head, he swears that thing is trying to out him on purpose sometimes.

This time it wasn't the ring though, so it's a good thing it's an inanimate object and can't be upset at how wrong Hal is being right now.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah! Let's get back to the others"

The evening ends uneventfully.

---

It's really only until quite a bit later that things start to happen.

"Green lantern" its batman's business voice.

Both Hal and John look up.

"Jordan" ah shit.

"I'll catch you up later" and he leaves Hal behind, traitor.

"What's up spooky"

"You need to update your file, it is missing critical information, and on that note I wasn’t aware that the lantern suits grant you intangibility now"

"I... what..? It doesn't? What are you talking about spooks"

"Hrn" Batman pulls up a screen and shows him footage of the latest fight, in it you can clearly see something was supposed to hit Hal but went right through him "You're telling me you didn't know or notice this?"

Hal just looks kinda sick. That would have been a bad hit and he just straight up didn't even notice.

Batman just kind of silently looks at him and he must have come to some conclusion because the next thing Hal knows this comes out of his mouth.

"I've already ran your blood through the lab, it's not a sudden emergence of a meta gene so it's either from the lantern corps or you've otherwise externally been affected by something that's causing this"

Hal closes his eyes and internally counts to ten, it doesn't help.

Batman takes his silence to mean he can keep talking. The man is on an unusual roll. Hal would have been ecstatic if he didn't hate the topic quite so much.

"It would have been best if it had something to do with your ring however you seem to be completely unaware and I've also noted that the green of your ring and the green glow that comes with the density shifting are different"

He has examples with corresponding color codes, Hal is so tired.

“let's set a time frame…” Batman pulls up some documents and graph on the screen “seeing as you are unaware of this development I will set the starting point of this potential change as of now to right after the last time you have been known to be hit in a fight and before the first known instance of you being able to density shift, that leaves us with a full month.”

Hal really, really does not want to be here anymore.

“In this month you have not gone off planet so whatever caused this is on Earth” Batman pauses for a moment, “has anything significant happened during that time that springs to mind now?”

“no, nothing significant has happened during that time, frankly it’s been a very pleasant uneventful four weeks in which I finally managed to catch a break and it figures something crazy has apparently happened anyway”

Hal rubs his face with both hands, “but right now I couldn’t tell you what, anyway, does this have to be a bad thing? I for one am very glad that hit didn’t actually land”

“So far only Superman has had the privilege of having sudden emergence of new powers work out for him” Batman huffs, “it would be best to monitor this carefully, if anything springs to mind do not hesitate to inform me, the sooner this is figured out the better”

“awww you do care” Hal is using humor cope, sadly it’s Batman, so it’s not very effective.

“Jordan” now Batman sounds tired, he’s not the one with random surprise density shifting, Hal understand that Spooky’s crippling chronic paranoia must be exhausting but right now he’s the one freaking out considering this is apparently not a meta gene related development, it would have been so much easier if it was, oh and about that, just how and when did Batman get his blood exactly? he would like to know now.

---

sadly he does not get to know now. or anytime soon (or ever). it’s chaos right after, because of course it is.

knocked out of the sky and lying amongst the rubble, if their enemy spots him he’s in bigger shit than he already is, but he can’t fucking move and the next thing he knows he’s invisible.

and there is just nothing enjoyable about it.

Barry doesn’t know that though, “that was something else, just one moment and schwup and you were just gone, some sort of green lantern light bending? he looked right through you, thank god he did too” 

shit shit, “no that was..." it was like he just ceased to exist, movies and books and whatever other media always depicts it as such a cool thing but frankly it was terrifying. And he would prefer things that are terrifying not to happen to him, for obvious reasons, “honestly actually it’s complicated, stealth tech” Grade A bullshit.

“well it’s awesome”

“it was useful just now but not really my style you know” 

Barry slings his arm over Hal’s shoulder and gives him a one armed hug, “everything worked out” Hal can feel some tension flow out of his friend, “well! better get busy cleaning this mess up” and with a blink he’s gone.

Hal does not want to talk about this with Batman, but knowing him, he probably already knows anyway, it would be less of a headache to go to him than have him go to Hal. 

Hal wants to enjoy whatever this is, he really does, but he doesn’t know what caused this, he doesn’t know what triggers the new abilities or whatever they are, he doesn’t know what effects this shit is going to have in the future, he just doesn’t know anything, normally he doesn’t mind not knowing some things, he’s fine leaving the knowing to the people better suited for the more complicated knowing, but he would very much like to know more about this please.

---

Then they face off against an enemy and in the process Hal drains his ring completely and the next hit is going to be bad, so what will happen? Will he somehow go intangible again? Turn invisible and use the confusion to evade and attack?

No

Apparently this time he just gets a glowing green dome shield. Something very normal for him to have and use, if only it came out of his ring that is.

Nobody notices that something is wrong, nobody besides Batman that is.

"That's three new abilities that only appear during life threatening situations"

Hal has actually seriously gone over that month by now, but nothing, no answers. He's physically fine, mentally a little damaged but nothing new there, they all are. Every test he begrudgingly went through answered nothing. He was fine. Whatever was going on actually had nothing to do with him.

And at the same time it had everything to do with him because this is only happening to him.

As usual (by now) he takes out his little glass fighter jet and runs his thumb over the wings. It is soothing strangely enough. Like a stim toy.

"The last thing to try is a thorough examination by someone from the justice league dark"

Hal groans, magic, ok then, "Alright let's get this over with. Who knows maybe I'm just haunted"

It turns out he’s not haunted, this is a good thing... supposedly, Well let’s just say that Hal would have not minded being haunted or something if that meant it could be fixed, or just explained.

It doesn’t really need to be fixed, whatever this is has been very helpful after all, but he would do basically anything for an explanation right about now.

“you are not haunted or otherwise magically compromised, but I do sense faint traces of energy from the infinite realms” Zatanna is a godsent, finally something to work with.

“from the who whats?” Hal is worried, the occult field is definitely not his area of expertise. He's a space cop, not a space demonhunter… oh that would be pretty cool though, with like a hood and twin cyber crossbows, maybe he should incorporate that somehow.

“the infinite realms… have you recently been in touch with any death related realities?”

Well there was that time when he got booted to the death universe and he died and then he was a black lantern but he got better, that’s all very much very behind him.

She better not be about to tell him that stuff still has lingering consequences.

oh god dammit that’s exactly what is going on isn’t it?

"How recently?"

"In the past week?"

"Oh, no" Hal would have known if that was the case, death stuff tends to be hard to ignore.

Zatanna frowns, that's probably not a good sign.

"But you said I'm not compromised right?" Right now what Hal wants to know the most is if this is changing him. Cause it tends to be bad for him when that's the case.

"No this is just lingering traces of something or someone else using their powers near you"

???!!??!?

"What are the infinite realms?" oh hey there Batman, was wondering when you would show up again.

"It's the afterlife, or... more like a collection of all afterlives. The infinite realms is very literal in their naming. It is home to powerful dead entities. As a general rule magic users are discouraged from interacting with it.

"Hrn"

"What did you say happened to you so far Hal?"

"Uhm, density shifting, invisibility and then a green dome-like shield, a lot like my own energy constructs"

"that sounds like pretty standard stuff for a realms being"

"Soooo what, did one leave the afterlife and decide to follow me around or something?"

"I cannot conclusively say, I can only say that you've been close to one using its abilities"

Batman folds his arms over his chest, "We shouldn’t form theories on these findings alone, Zatanna are these realm beings dangerous?"

"Hard to say, they come in all manner of forms, some small and harmless and others on the level of world destroying gods."

Great great great, awesome, well it’s probably safe to say that whatever decided to stick around Hal isn’t small and harmless, cause small and harmless doesn’t sound strong enough to casually turn him intangible or invisible… he could be wrong though.

“I do advise caution, beings from the infinite realms also have the ability to possess someone, they call it overshadowing”

Batman’s lips thin and Hal tenses up, mind control of any kind is always awful.

“I’ll place a ward on you, as a precaution” energy starts to gather in her hands.

Batman moves for the door, “we might need to look into a way to force this being to reveal itself, it would be best if we could convince it to return to their realm”

“Well I mean-” Hal starts, “like I get that, but they have been a great help so far” 

“they are a security risk”

“I’m just saying, I am grateful that they kept me from being confined to the medical wing for who even knows how long, who knows they might just be shy, wouldn’t it be better to convince them to become our ally, like Deadman. instead of telling them to leave. just cause we don’t understand how they work yet doesn’t mean they are bad and should be booted out of our reality”

Batman narrows his eyes at Hal and turns to Zatanna who is finished with placing the ward on Hal, “Zatanna please send me all you have on the infinite realms, I will do my own research” and with that he sweeps out of the room, very dramatic.

“Ass” Hal whispers under his breath.

“He’s worried”

“well he’s being a dick about it, as usual” Hal’s fingers find his little plane once again “... hey do you think they could communicate through one of those oejah boards?”

Zatanna snorts, “it’s Ouija- and please don’t”

---

No information from the JLD has been useful so far in coaxing the realms being to reveal themselves and for the most part things just go on as usual.

“Whoever they are, they followed me when I went off planet and it might just be my imagination but I had a feeling that their stuff was a lot more… potent? out there? I don’t know it was kinda strange, it just felt stronger”

“but they didn’t reveal themselves to you?”

“nope, they must know that I know now too, so they have decided to just… go on as they always have I guess”

“hrn” Batman is leafing through files, because of this whole mess he’s uncovered hidden government organizations targeting occult entities as well as inhumane laws that stand directly opposed to the meta protection acts.

Why is he working with paper regarding this matter? Well it turns out there is a infinite realms being that can possess electronica and it was only because of the protections the JLD had put in place on the Watchtower that the entity didn’t overtake it in its entirety.

Watching Constantine freak out had been mildly entertaining but Zatanna had once again reminded Batman to be very careful, Batman had begrudgingly admitted he had made a slight misstep while digging for answers… in his head, not out loud, god forbid.

“this whole thing is turning out a lot bigger than we thought huh, good thing we are dealing with it now” Hal stretches his arms above his head, “anyway I am going to go grab something to eat”

“the rapport-” Batman doesn’t bother looking at him.

“yeah yeah” Hal doesn’t either while walking out of the room, dismissively flicking his hand, “don’t worry about it spooky”

Hal takes his little plane out on the way to the cafeteria and fiddles with it in his hand, once there he puts it on the table next to Barry before getting himself something to eat.

They catch up, Hal complains (bitches) about Batman, others come and go, Zatanna quickly checks up on the ward she placed which makes Barry raise an eyebrow at Hal, “Ghost protection”

“... no such thing”

Zatanna glares.

Hal can see them both gearing up to start the magic is just science we haven’t fully scienced out yet argument again, “alright! I’m full” he stands up, “if you need me I’ll be writing that rapport, later” and gets the hell out of there.

It’s when he has just reached his preferred spot to work on the boring paperwork stuff when the alarms go off throughout what he can only imagine must probably be the entire Watchtower.

It seems like something triggered all of the JLD’s defenses in one go.

Impressive, but also very worrying.

The rapport is going to have to wait.

People are gathering in the meeting room and Batman is already taking the lead, “status”

“as of a couple minutes ago there was a build up of as of yet unknown energy which then burst in the cafeteria knocking out Flash” Martian Manhunter says, “Zatanna says we are most likely dealing with another being from the infinite realms”

Superman groans, this means he’s out.

It’s a good thing they now have defenses against overshadowing though. Being effectively trapped in a space station (because currently the thing is on lockdown) where literally anyone could suddenly actually be the enemy is the kind of situation a whole slew of horror movies like to be about.

“We will need to be extremely careful while finding and then dealing with this entity”

It has certainly been quite some time since the Watchtower got directly hit like this.

Hal pulls out his little plane.

or, he would, if he still had it.

thoroughly distracted now he suddenly realizes it’s no longer on his person.

Spooky is probably not going to like it if during the infinite realms attacker hunt he takes the opportunity to look around for his missing little fighter jet.

well what he doesn’t know won’t harm him.

His plan of looking for the plane while looking for the ghost is working out well enough.

In fact it is working out so good that he finds both at the same time.

At that point Hal had started wondering if maybe Barry had picked it up for him at the cafeteria before the attack happened and that the little thing was now in the medical wing with him. 

That turned out to clearly not be the case once he found the tiny thing glowing green and floating in the middle of the hallway.

“alright ghosty, that’s really important to me and I would like it back undamaged”

the tiny plane turned to now point directly at him, hmm, yeah that's not creepy at all.

 “... please don’t launch yourself at me” he foolishly says which of course means that’s exactly what it does next.

He uses his ring to construct a net with a pillow inside to catch the tiny jet, completely forgetting that it’s overshadowed and can thus easily just go intangible and right through his creations.

Instead it hits him square in the chest, rather painfully he might add and then just stops glowing and drops, making Hal scramble to not have it fall and shatter in a million tiny pieces on the ground.

immediately all the sensors stop detecting the presence of a realms being and the alarms die down.

Whatever was in the Watchtower has left the building.

or…

Hal looks down at the tiny plane in his hands, his talisman of protection and has a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Hey there little guy, might want to explain yourself?” he says to the tiny jet.

It vibrates in his hands.

“... yeah I figured, shit”

---

“I say just smash the bloody thing and be done with it, preferably that takes care of it once and for all” Constantine glares down at the tiny jet.

Hal is almost halfway over the table to shield the little thing, covering it from Constantine’s sight with his hand, “don’t you dare” he growls.

“it would be best for everyone involved, for all we known you could have gone full liminal what with how long you’ve been carrying the blasted thing around”

Zatanna is going over the little thing with her own magic, “it’s trapped”

“In that case just straight up trying to murder it would be the worst thing to do” Hal glares at Constantine some more. Who clearly doesn’t give a shit, figures, all stressed out about dealing with things from the infinite realms but whenever he feels he has the upper hand he’s more than happy to go full nuclear.

“it would be best if we had a way of figuring out their intentions” Batman looks down at the tiny jet impassively.

“Well, another reason to just carefully release this creature instead” Hal responds.

Zatanna’s magic fades away, “I would say that the fact it’s been protecting Hal for as long as he has it is a positive sign”

“hrn, but now it has gone and knocked Flash out, so what does that say” Batman huffs, “it’s too risky”

“Constantine and I will set up everything we can so it won’t be able to escape or try anything dangerous” Zatanna stops looking at Batman and turns back to the tiny plane, “if it turns out to be malicious we could simply banish it back to the realms, killing it would be rather stupid, we do not know what kind of connections it might have within the realms, we might accidentally anger something far worse with such a rash act”

Constantine groans but accepts Zatanna’s reasoning, Batman nods as well.

It’s only then that Hal moves out of the way.

Any plans of attack or banishment fly right out of the window once the two magic users are done and a young boy manifests from the tiny fighter jet.

Hal pushes Constantine aside to get to the boy’s side.

“Jordan, are you insane! Get back here!” 

“Hey, kid, can you hear me? please open your eyes, slowly, take your time” 

Batman has also moved forward much to Constantine’s frustration. Don't these two morons get that their protections won’t do shit if you just casually stroll into the circle?

Batman is mostly concerned in being able to step in should the boy prove to be a hostile entity anyway, but at the same time… well, that’s a child.

The boy kind of dazedly opens his eyes, looks at Hal and then seems to become aware of his own arms and hands, after opening and closing those a couple times he looks back at Hal and lets out a breath that can only be described as relieved and promptly passes out into him.

Well, Hal figures that settles it then. He doesn’t know shit about looking after a kid, and definitely not one who is probably quite dead, but this one is his, back off Batman.

they all startle rather violently when rings of blinding white light pass over the boy and suddenly the kid in Hal’s arms is a bit warmer and seems to have a sluggish pulse and also his clothes are different and his hair is now black and-

Hal is up and moving towards the medical wing before his mind catches back up with him. He can hear Batman behind him, it seems like Constantine and Zatanna aren’t moving after him as fast.

Well anyway his life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen.

[p0orbaby]

Mission Impossible

summary: you’re an agent at the top of your game, until a certain footballer distracts you

warnings: SMUT 18+, semi public (car), fingering, top!leah, dirty talk?

a/n: thanks for the request ! this was super fun to write

word count: 2.2k

-

“Remember to mute yourself if you go to the toilet, yeah?” your new technician's voice crackles through the earpiece you’d pay your life’s savings not to have to wear.

“You do know who you’re talking to, right?”

“Of course! The female version of double oh seven, duh. This is like, super cool that I’ve been assigned to you, by the way”

You roll your eyes and tap your fingers impatiently against the steering wheel of your car. “It’s my pleasure”

“But seriously, not to tell you what to do or anything but, please mute if you need to go potty. It’s just that I’ve got PTSD from the last agent because they-“

“Can you reroute me? This traffic is starting to piss me off and I’ve got a finite amount of time to, you know, do my job”

“Right, right,” he stammers. You hear the rapid clicking of keys over the comms. “Okay, take the next left and then a right at the lights. Should get you there faster”

“Thanks.” You sigh, flicking on your turn signal. The city lights blur past as you navigate the winding roads, every rev of your engine a reminder of the ticking clock. Or was that your indicator? Who knows, who cares?

“You nervous?” the technician, Mikey? asks, trying to make small talk. “I mean, it’s a big deal, right? Going undercover at something like this?”

“Nervous? No. Anxious to get out of this car? Absolutely,” you reply. The GPS recalculates, leading you into a quieter, more upscale part of the city. The kind of place where people hide secrets behind perfectly manicured lawns and pristine facades.

“Just remember,” he continues, his tone growing serious, “we’re here if you need anything. But you’ve got this. You always do”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Coach,” you say dryly, but there’s a hint of a smile on your lips at his compliment. “I’m pulling up now. Keep the channel clear unless it’s an emergency”

“Roger that. Good luck”

-

You hated places like this. Sure it’s probably the attendees' tax contributions who pay the bulk of your wages, but still. Everything is always so uptight, stiff, dry as hell.

“Tell me again why I had to wear a fucking dress” you say to yourself really, but you get a response because of you damn earpiece.

“Because as progressive as the world has become, a woman in a suit doesn’t really slide in environments like this”

You scoff, readjusting the strap of your gown. “I might put in a formal complaint. Undue distress in the workplace,” you mutter, weaving through the crowd. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the low hum of forced laughter.

“Just focus on the task at hand,” Mark? reminds you. “You’re looking for a woman in a blue dress, diamond necklace. Shouldn’t be hard to miss”

“Got it,” you reply, scanning the room. You catch glimpses of the high-profile guests, all engaged in their own worlds, oblivious to the undercurrents of deception that flow just beneath the surface.

You make your way to the bar, figuring it’s as good a place as any to start. You signal the bartender for a drink, something that will keep your hands busy without dulling your senses. As you wait, you let your eyes roam, taking in every detail, every potential threat.

“Remember,” Martins’? voice buzzes in your ear, “you’re just here to observe and gather intel. No heroics”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, taking a sip of your drink. “Not my first rodeo, Champ”

What was with this kid?

A flash of blue catches your eye from across the room. You spot her, the woman you’re supposed to meet, gliding through the crowd with a grace that seems almost practiced. She pauses, scanning the room much like you did, and for a moment, her eyes meet yours.

You offer a slight nod, the briefest acknowledgment, before turning your attention back to your drink. No need to rush things. Timing is everything when it comes to these types of things.

“You look as bored as I feel”

A voice, smooth and unexpectedly unpretentious, cuts through your thoughts. You turn to find someone standing next to you, not in a dress, but in a sharp, tailored gray suit that makes her stand out in the sea of gowns and black tuxedos.

You muster a wry smile. “Is it that obvious?”

The blonde laughs softly, the sound genuine and easy. “Maybe just a little”. It’s her turn to gesture to the bartender. What gets placed in front of her is a tumbler of whiskey, dark and golden and a stark contrast to the champagne all the other women seem to be sipping on. “I’m Leah, by the way”

“Olivia,” you reply, shaking the confident hand she has extended for you. “First time at one of these?”

Leah shrugs, a casual gesture that is not encouraged at finishing school. She doesn’t belong here, you deduce. “Not quite. They get less and less interesting every time. You?”

“I’ve been to a few here and there,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “But really it’s a bit of a social experiment for me”

Leah grins, leaning against the bar. “A social experiment, huh? Sounds like you’re a people-watcher”

“You could say that,” you reply, glancing over the room again. Your blue woman is nowhere to be seen. “You can learn a lot about someone by how they navigate a room like this”

“True enough,” Leah says, her eyes raking over the crowd. “But mostly, you just learn who’s got the best bullshit and who can fake a smile the longest”

You laugh over the rim of your own glass. You’ve gone for vodka on the rocks. Clear liquids are recommended. “You’ve got a point there”

“I’m not just a pretty face”

Maybe she wasn’t, but she did in fact have a pretty face, that much was obvious. Those blue eyes. No, green eyes? Wait, was she talking to you? No, but she is smirking. Smirking at you like she knew all your deepest darkest secrets. Perhaps she did. Perhaps she can see right through you as you stand here staring at her like she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N, focus”. Your conscience is talking to you again. “You haven’t got all night, remember”

You clear your throat, down your drink and ask for another.

“So, what does Leah do other than being a frequent goer of boring events, and a smart ass?”

She laughs and you feel it fizz through your body. “Oh, you know, a bit of this, a bit of that. Mostly kick a ball across some grass and hope it hits the target”

“Football?”

She nods. “Looks like you’re not just a pretty face either”

You’re about to respond, unsure of what you’re actually going to say as your brain has shortcurited, when a butter knife is tapped against the side of a glass.

“Looks like dinner’s ready” Leah whispers in your ear. “Where are you sitting?”

“Table four” you respond as you watch everyone start to move around the room.

“Well, unfortunately for you you can’t be rid of me just yet”

-

This doesn’t happen.

You don’t do this.

You’re a professional, the best in the field, so why are you half naked in the back of your car?

“Look at you, look at how wet you are” Leah sighs as she cocks her head, looking at how you’ve exposed yourself to her.

Your mind is gone. Off into the stratosphere never to return. Partly because you broke your very stringent rule of not drinking too much on the job, and partly because you need her to touch you. Now. Which she is not granting you the pleasure of doing.

You whimper pathetically when her palms splay on the inners of your thighs. Warm and large and calloused. She’s not a keeper, you've found out, so you only suspect the coarseness of her skin if from when she grips around weights in the gym.

If her forearms are anything to go by, your suspicions would be correct.

“Leah, please”

“What do you want, hm?” She asks, cocky in a way that heats your skin. “Tell me what you want and I might just give it to you”

She leans forward and presses tortured kisses against your jaw. Bruising you, no doubt. But that is a problem you will deal with later.

“You” you say, strained and desperate as her breath tickles you and forces goosebumps to ripple over your skin.

“You can do better than that” she teases.

Sighing, you muster the strength to speak more than one word at a time. “I want your fingers”

“Fuck, sweetheart” is all she says before she’s peeling herself off of you, rolling her sleeves up further past her elbows, and to your shock, sticking her fingers in her mouth.

The first touch almost has you combusting on the spot. She knows what she’s fucking doing. The suit should’ve been a giveaway. The whiskey a second chance for you to catch on. But you had a job to do, your mind was elsewhere, until it wasn’t.

You did in fact get your intel, and now you’re getting your reward.

Leah works painfully slow. Her experienced fingers rubbing lazy circles against your clit. She’s testing you, or she is making the most of your time together. Whatever she’s doing it’s making you that impatient that your hips buck involuntarily in response.

“You like that? You like it when I touch you?”

“Leah, for the love of god, hurry up”

She laughs then. Soft and sweet as if she’s not got your dress tucked up under your chin, or that a film of her saliva is covering the most intimate parts of you.

“You ready, baby?”

So fucking ready.

You nod, and she smirks again. Smug cow.

Her left hand finds your leg once more, but this time she wraps her fingers around the underside of your knee and pushes. Opening you up and keeping you where she wants you. It’s her right hand that gets to work between your thighs.

She pushes a solitary index finger in first. With little resistance with your own doing and her spit making the job easy enough.

“Oh fuck” you whine. “Jesus fucking Christ”

“Saying the lord's name in vain? I must be doing a good job” she snickers.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up and make me cum already”

To Leah’s credit, she is very good at fulfilling instructions. At least after a time. You think she’s had enough of toying with you and is actually looking forward to having her way with you now. Which you couldn’t be happier about if you tried.

Her finger slips in and out of you at a pace that has you teetering on the edge. Not quite enough to push you off. Which she must realise by the way your nails dig into the skin of those amazing forearms of hers. She is quick to change tactics.

Two fingers now, and you feel deliciously full. She has perfect fingers, you think behind the haze of your lust. Just the right length to hit that spot within you that has you reeling.

“Keep going” you beg, rolling your hips to meet each thrust. “I’m close”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh” you breathe, nodding as you feel your insides tense up, the line ready to snap.

Which it does when her thumb finds your neglected clit. And the rest is history.

Your whole body goes up in flames. Seeing stars as your legs shake and the coil in your belly snaps at last.

“You’re so pretty,” Leah says. You think. The sound of blood rushing past your ears makes it hard to distinguish your moans from anything else. “Look at you, does that feel good?”

You can’t nod, you can’t speak. But fuck yes it does. And she knows it because even as you start to come down from the highest of highs, she leans down to capture your cries with her mouth. Keeping them for herself and her fingers curl gently inside you to ease you back to reality.

“You’re amazing,” she whispers, her voice a calming balm in the aftermath of everything. She shifts slightly, withdrawing her fingers carefully and wipes them on the leg of her suit trousers. Just breathe,” she murmurs, her breath tickling your ear. “I’ve got you”

You close your eyes, letting the remnants of your climax pulse through your body as you try to regain your composure. Something that you don’t misplace often.

“That was-“

“Better than the cheese boards they were going to force down our necks? I agree” she finishes for you as she leans back, finds her discarded shout jacket, and uses it to wipe you clean.

“Something like that” you say, your voice rough around the edges.

Leah straightens up, her eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place. “So, do I get your number, or do I have to crash another shitty event to see you again?”

You chuckle, stretching over to the glovebox. You pull out a sleek, plain business card with just a number printed on it and hand it to her. “Here. Use it wisely”

Leah takes the card, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. She leans in, pressing a dirty, lingering kiss against your lips. “Until next time, Olivia,” she murmurs against your mouth before pulling away and stepping out of the car.

As you watch her walk away, a crackle sounds through straight into your brain, followed by Mitch’s! disgusted voice. “Oh my God, I told you to turn off your fucking earpiece!”

[n0cturnalp1g]

Three Peas in A Pod I

Summary: On your first day, your boss throws your right to the lion's den of awkwardness seeing your exes. Characters: Attending!Female Reader x Jack Abbot x Michael "Robby" Robinavitch. Gloria Underwood. Word Count: 709 Chapter Warnings: Awkwardness.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Chapter 1: We Meet Again

“Slow and steady wins the race.”

You muttered walking with your free hands holding onto the strap of your backpack as you made your way inside the chaos of what was now your new home two minutes late. Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. The chaos of the city would go straight here and nothing brings you better joy than that chaos.

You were met with the same woman who had aggressively been recruiting you since the news of your departure from Presby. Gloria Underwood was every bit of the bureaucratic nuisance you had to deal with back at Presby, the only difference was the fact that your demands and your pay was better than it once was. The given privilege of working Dayshift was also something you took full advantage of.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person.” Gloria smiled, shaking your hands before walking you towards the Emergency Department.

Your eyes linger for a moment towards the emergency room and the all too familiar chaos that came with it. You took a moment to glance at the new faces you were about to spend twelve hours on a day to day basis from now.

“The Chief of Emergency Medicine will be the one to make introductions and help you on your first day. He can be…difficult, but he is good at what he does. I believe it’s only in good conscience that both of our Senior Attending can be difficult but not something you need to worry about.” Gloria continued as the two of you halted in front of the nurses station with a man standing with his back turned to both of you.

“Dr. Robinavitch, I’d like you to meet our new Senior Attending.”

Your breath hitched and your heart fell right through your stomach as the man finally turned and you came face to face with a far too familiar man you’ve tried to forget all those years ago.

There was a moment of silence shared between you, much to the growing concern of Gloria's look between the two of you.

“Do you two know each other?” Gloria inquired.

“Unfortunately.” You spoke first but did not have the strength to specify the actual specifics of your association with the man.

“Gloria, I think I’d know my ex-wife perfectly well even after a decade has passed since we’ve signed the papers.” Robby tried to make light of the situation but somehow made it worse as Gloria glowered at your ex-husband.

You tried your best avoiding his gaze now, already realizing the trap you set yourself into working with him now in the same hospital after a decade apart without communications or updates about each other.

“Heard Gloria’s bringing in a new meat, Babe. A real nightmare of Presby’s, so good luck with that and I’ll see you home.”

Once again turning, you were met with another far too familiar face, another man you’ve shared a past with–one that was far too complicated compared to the amicable separation and eventual divorce from Robby.

Jack Abbot. Met him nearly half a decade after your divorce from Robby, when you felt you were already good and ready for relationships. But somehow you just find yourself getting attracted to far too many emotionally stunted men in your life.

“I see you still remember how I am, Jack.” You quipped watching his stoic face gape before returning back. “He’s an ex-boyfriend, Gloria.” You explained smiling towards the two men that had once meant so much in your life and made you the person you were in this moment.

“Will this be a problem for you?” Gloria questioned, her glare still passing between both Robby and Jack.

“Unless they make it a problem, I think I can deal with working with my two ex’s who I’m also having an inkling of aren't just friends.” You narrowed at how close the two were to each other.

Definitely more than close friends.

 “Dating for three years now.” Robby supplied.

“Not like it’s any of your business–abandoning me and all.”

You chuckled, turning your attention right back to Robby, not gracing Jack with a response. It would only make things worse for you and the past 

“So, introductions?” You beamed wanting to get this over with.

[deathwishdazai]

@yoong-707 asked

I love the fact BSD has such a variety of abilities. Enables those of us in the fandom to be wild and freaky and let our minds go crazy with ideas. LOL.

So an ability user has the ability to turn their targets into miniaturised versions of themselves. Clothes and accessories and whatnot aren't affected though. So just flesh and bones. Shrinking into their own clothes kind of thing.

Dazai was with ADA MC when this happened to them. On a mission. He defo finds it more cute than anything and relentlessly tease and use her size against her. Dressing her up in dolls clothes, carrying her around in his pockets all day, poking at her with his finger, and definitely gets freaky even when she is that small. Caressing her with the tips of his fingers, using a feather, or a q-tip to tease her to play with her when his finger is too big.

Though, the others probably find the ability user eventually and Dazai uses his ability to help MC turn back to normal. Whether they continue with even more freaky stuff after that, I'll leave up to you. Haha.

Dazai’s Little Doll

Nsfw

This was different but I had lots of fun with it!

Warnings: sexual acts

Summary: An ability user shrinks you down and Dazai decides you are his perfect little doll. He plays with you in more ways than one.

"Dazai, put me down!"

"Hmm? But you're so light, like a little marshmallow," he cooed, lifting you between his fingers. "What if I just... plop you into my pocket and carry you around like a good luck charm?"

You kicked your little legs, still half-tangled in the oversized folds of your now-useless pants.

"You're enjoying this too much."

"Oh, way too much." He grinned, pulling open the lapel of his coat. "Look, I even cleared a space for you. Right next to the emergency candy stash."

You blinked. "You were going to put me in there with the candy?"

"I was going to replace the candy."

Before you could protest, he slipped you into the pocket-warm, dark, and smelling faintly of tea and mischief. You swore you heard him hum something under his breath. Probably planning what size teacup to use for your new bath.

You weren't sure what was worse-being shrunk to six inches tall by some lunatic ability user on a mission... or being in Dazai's care afterward.

"Okay, okay-hold still, will you?" he whined dramatically, dangling something that looked like it came straight from a Victorian dollhouse above your head. "This is the fanciest dress I could find.

Imported. Silk. Buttons that don't even work.

You're welcome."

"It has puff sleeves," you deadpanned, arms crossed over your very naked, very cold chest.

"And lace. Pink lace."

He gasped. "And? Are you saying you're too good for puff sleeves?"

"I'm saying you took this off a doll in Yosano's office and she's aoina to kill vou."

He snorted. "Please. Yosano won't even notice it's missing. Unless you tell her, of course..." His smile went sly. "In which case, I suppose you'll be sleeping in the sock pile tonight."

You froze. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would." He leaned in, poking your stomach with the tip of one long finger. "You think I won't shove you into a dark drawer with mismatched socks and crumpled receipts and let you fight for survival like a tiny feral god?"

You opened your mouth. Closed it. "

...Give me the

dress."

He beamed. "That's my girl."

Getting it on was a humiliating process. The sleeves were tight. The buttons didn't close properly. The skirt was too short. Dazai insisted on "helping," which mostly involved him holding you up like a Barbie and spinning you around until you were dizzy.

"See?" he said finally, once you were red-faced and properly dolled up. "You look adorable. Like a very angry tea party guest."

"I'm going to kill you when I'm full-sized again."

"Sure, sure." He leaned in until his smug face filled your vision. "But for now, you're staying in the drawer."

You blinked. "You what?"

"The drawer apartment," he said, like it was obvious. He slid open the top drawer of his desk with a flourish, revealing a makeshift tiny suite— lined with one of his clean T-shirts for bedding, a folded washcloth as a rug, an upside-down teacup for a table, and a single LED finger light clipped to the inside for illumination.

He'd even drawn a window on the back wall. With curtains. "Oh my God," you whispered. "You're insane."

"Insane? Insane?" He clutched his chest in mock offense. "This is premium luxury, sweetheart.

Your own private apartment. Climate controlled.

No rent. Plus room service." He leaned closer, voice dropping. "Unless you act up. Then it's back to the sock pile."

You glared. "You enjoy this too much."

"I enjoy you too much," he corrected, grinning as he lowered you into your new 'home' and fluffed the makeshift pillow. "Now be good, or I'll make you share the drawer with my paperclip collection. They're... territorial."

You waited until Dazai left the room to return with snacks (a single cracker, like you were a parrot) before climbing furiously onto your teacup-table and shouting at the top of your tiny lungs:

"I'm not staying like this, Dazai!"

He blinked from the doorway, brows raised. "Someone's feisty. Is that how you thank your gracious host? I even got you a drink cap to use as a tub-"

"You should be out looking for the guy who did this to me!" you snapped, cheeks flushed, arms flailing in your too-puffy sleeves. "Not building me a damn dollhouse and feeding me rice cracker crumbs!"

He stepped closer slowly, lazily, like a cat approaching a bird that had forgotten the size difference. "But you're so cute like this," he said, voice syrupy. "Can't I enjoy it just a little longer?"

"No!" you shouted. "I have a life, Dazai! A job! And I'm supposed to file a report by tomorrow and I'm literally standing on a coaster!"

He crouched beside the drawer, chin resting on his folded arms, eyes shining with open amusement.

"You know what your voice sounds like at this size?" he murmured.

"Don't-"

"Like a cartoon hamster yelling at a war criminal. It's kind of irresistible."

You groaned, grabbing a scrap of paper and throwing it at him. It drifted gently through the air and landed on his sleeve.

"You're wasting time!" you said, breathless.

"Whoever that ability user was, they're still out there! They could shrink more people! You should be tracking him, not-whatever this is!"

Dazai blinked. And for a second, just one breath, he looked... thoughtful. Then he gave you a lopsided smile. "I am tracking him."

You frowned. "You are?"

He nodded. "I already filed the report with the Agency. Ran some data through Kunikida. Turns out the guy's ability is range-limited, wears off after 25-48 hours, and only works if you're not touching anyone else when he uses it."

Your lips parted. "You knew that and didn't tell me?"

He shrugged. "You were so cute in the doll dress. I didn't want to ruin it."

"You menace—!"

He laughed, reaching into the drawer and plucking you up between two fingers. You kicked your legs, furious, but he just lifted you to eye-level with a look that was entirely too fond. "You'll be back to normal tomorrow," he said.

"But until then..."

He gave you a crooked grin.

"I'm going to enjoy every second of you being small, helpless, and at the mercy of my endless affection."

You screamed into your hands.

He kissed the top of your head with a dramatic "mwah!" and tucked you back into your makeshift bed.

"Get comfy, belladonna," he purred. "You're my favorite collectible."

You waited until Dazai was asleep.

Or at least... you thought he was. His breathing was even. His coat tossed lazily across the floor. And the lights were low, casting long shadows that stretched all the way to the edge of the desk.

You took a breath. Steeled your nerves. And started climbing.

The side of the drawer was a steep slope of polished wood, but you'd built a makeshift rope ladder from thread and floss while he was busy humming and brushing your hair with a literal doll comb. You hoisted yourself over the edge, chest heaving, dress torn slightly from the climb.

You dropped to the desk with a soft grunt. Then ran. A bottle cap. A pen. A stack of sticky notes. You scaled it like terrain, like battlefield wreckage. If you could just get to the edge of the desk, you could use the trailing coat sleeve to slide down to the floor and— "Going somewhere, little mouse?"

You froze. Entire body seized.

No. No no no no no—

A shadow loomed behind you. A warm finger tapped your head. "Aw," Dazai cooed, crouching to eye level. His voice was syrupy with sleep, and smugness, and something low and dangerous that made your stomach twist. "Trying to run away from me?"

You slowly turned, tiny fists clenched. "I was going to find the ability user and undo this myself."

He blinked. Then grinned. "And let someone else find you like this?" He swept a finger over your disheveled form, torn doll dress and flushed cheeks. "You'd be picked up like a stray charm. Or worse... squished under someone's boot."

He leaned in, close enough to make your dress flutter. "No, no, no. I can't have that."

You yelped as he plucked you right off the desk with thumb and forefinger, holding you suspended in the air like a misbehaving figurine. "Looks like someone needs a little discipline," he purred. "And at your size... well. I'll have to get creative."

You tried to kick him. Your shoe bounced off his knuckle. He laughed. "Feisty," he murmured, carrying you to the bed and laying you gently on his pillow like a precious keepsake. You scrambled to sit up— only to freeze when you saw what he returned with.

A cotton swab. And a long, narrow feather. Your mouth fell open. "Dazai."

"Shh," he cooed, straddling the bed, towering over you. "Lesson time."

The feather came first-dragged slowly down your side, making you twitch and gasp. It traced the line of your leg, flicked gently between them, and then up the curve of your chest. Dazai's eyes never left you, half-lidded, his lips parted in a slow smile.

"You're so sensitive like this," he said. "I barely have to touch you..." You cried out when he brought the a-tip next, pressed to your thighs with maddening precision, dragging teasing circles over your inner legs until your whole body shook with tension.

"Dazai, please-"

"Mmm, please what, my little doll?" he asked, his finger replacing the swab for a moment— too big, rubbing gently over your body just to remind you how helpless you were under even a single digit. "You wanted to run off. But now you're begging me to keep touching you."

He grazed the pad of his thumb over your lower stomach, slow, warm, almost reverent. "You're mine, no matter the size," he whispered. "And if I have to tease you senseless just to remind you, then so be it."

You squirmed, hips rising, breath ragged, and he chuckled softly. "Oh, belladonna," he murmured. "You're so cute when you fall apart."

Tiny threads - floss, probably - wrapped around your wrists and ankles, holding you gently but firmly to the fabric of his pillow.

Dazai sat cross-legged beside you, his shirt half-unbuttoned, a glass of water untouched on the nightstand. His gaze was fixed entirely on you. "You could've fallen," he said, voice low. "Climbing around. Running off. You're too small to protect yourself."

He leaned down, close enough that his breath fluttered over your exposed thighs. "So now," he whispered, "I'm going to make you feel very safe." Your heart was pounding. Your tiny chest rising and falling fast against the thin scraps of the doll dress. Dazai's finger came into view - one long, careful stroke dragging slowly down the side of your body, just enough pressure to make you squirm.

"You like this," he said, watching your legs tremble. "Being this small. Being mine."

"I didn't say that-"

He silenced you with a kiss — lips barely grazing your thighs, warm and soft and slow. You gasped, thighs twitching. He grinned. "Sensitive," he murmured. "So, so sensitive."

He brought the cotton swab back. You thrashed slightly when it touched you — dragged slowly between your legs, circling your most sensitive spot in dizzying spirals. It was like being overwhelmed by the lightest feather and the heaviest need at the same time.

"Look at you," he breathed, voice gone dark with reverence. "Writhing under a fucking q-tip."

You whimpered, arching, pulling helplessly at the floss-thread restraints.

He continued anyway. Slow circles. Dipping lower, then back up. Soft, relentless pressure.

He watched every twitch, every broken breath, like you were a private show he never planned to share.

When your hips started shaking, he whispered, "Don't come yet."

"Dazai-"

"Not yet," he said again, firmer now, the q-tip freezing in place.

You let out a sob - body on fire, need like static under your skin. Then: his tongue.

He lowered his mouth, holding your entire body in his palm now, bringing you close — and then his tongue flicked across you with excruciating slowness. Broad, wet, warm, wrong, and yet somehow too perfect.

You screamed.

"Good girl," he purred, licking again - slower, more precise, like he was learning your body one inch at a time. "Let me taste what a tiny little slut you are for me." Your body snapped, climaxing with a sob — hips twitching uncontrollably in his hand, writhing as you came against his tongue, your entire world reduced to heat and sound and him.

He didn't stop.

He didn't let you come down.

"Oh no," he whispered. "You disobeyed earlier. You tried to run. That means you're going to come until you cry for mercy."

"Dazai-"

His finger returned, slow strokes between your legs, smearing your own slick mess across your thighs as his thumb brushed your chest. His voice, low and sweet, curled around you like rope.

"Such a good girl now."

"So small, and already falling apart again."

"Look at you. My doll. My toy. My favorite little fuckable thing."

You sobbed as your second orgasm built - fast, brutal, white-hot. The teasing, the words, the oversized world around you — it all collapsed, leaving nothing but sensation.

You came again. Harder.

And Dazai moaned like he could feel it too.

You woke up to softness. The kind that didn't make sense. Not pillow-soft. Not doll-dress-soft. Just... sheets. Your lashes fluttered open, and you blinked up at the ceiling.

Wait.

You sat up sharply-heart pounding-and immediately realized three things:

1. You were naked.

2. You were normal-sized again.

3. You were in Dazai's bed.

"What the actual-"

"Ah, she lives!" came a bright, too-cheerful voice from the doorway. You snapped your head toward it and there he was-Dazai, holding two cups of coffee, still in yesterday's half-wrinkled clothes, his grin smug enough to have its own gravitational pull.

"I told you the effect would wear off," he said, setting the cups down and leaning in the doorway like a man who had not just used a cotton swab to make you come the night before.

You yanked the blanket up over your chest, glaring. "You left me naked!"

"You were doll-sized. Fabric could've suffocated you."

"You undressed me! You tied me down! You kept me in a drawer! Dazai, what the fuck—?!" You snapped your head toward it and there he was-Dazai, holding two cups of coffee, still in yesterday's half-wrinkled clothes, his grin smug enough to have its own gravitational pull.

"I told you the effect would wear off," he said, setting the cups down and leaning in the doorway like a man who had not just used a cotton swab to make you come the night before.

You yanked the blanket up over your chest, glaring. "You left me naked!"

"You were doll-sized. Fabric could've suffocated you."

"You undressed me! You tied me down! You kept me in a drawer! Dazai, what the fuck—?!"

He tilted his head, completely unfazed. "You forgot the part where I gave you a very luxurious apartment. You had a washcloth rug. A light. I was an excellent host."

"You teased me for hours! You made me come with a fucking q-tip! You licked me like a goddamn ice cream cone!"

He gave you a slow smile, lazy and wicked. "And you screamed my name every time."

You flushed-rage and heat and other things tangling all at once. "You're such a pervert," you hissed, clutching the blanket tighter.

He stepped closer. Slowly. Casually. Until he stood at the edge of the bed, hands in his coat pockets, that same maddening calm spreading across his face like he wasn't about to get smacked. "But you were so much more obedient," he murmured, "when you fit in my hand."

Your breath hitched. He grinned. "You didn't talk back. You begged so sweetly. You shivered when I touched you. I might shrink you again just to get some peace."

You grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him. He dodged it effortlessly. "You're awful!"

"I'm perfect," he corrected. "And for the record..." He stepped closer and leaned down close enough for his breath to graze your lips, his eyes dark now, voice dropping low and smug. "You looked so beautiful all helpless and flushed on my pillow, all tied up and trembling."

You swallowed. Hard. "Wanna do it again sometime?"

You opened your mouth to tell him to go to hell. But the second your lips parted, he kissed you. Just a quick, smug press.

"You're welcome," he whispered, straightening again with that shit-eating grin. "Anyway, they caught the guy. Kunikida's screaming somewhere about my report being late."

And with that, he turned and strolled off-like he hadn't just shattered your sanity. You fell back onto the mattress with a groan. You were going to kill him. Eventually. But maybe... not today.

The apartment was quiet.

You were not quiet. Pacing in his living room in one of his shirts—the long, oversized white button-up that smelled like him—you were stewing. The whole day had been impossible. Every time you moved, every time you thought about last night, it came back in flashes:

His finger.

His tongue.

The feather.

Your thighs pressed together unconsciously. Goddammit. The door clicked open, and Dazai strolled in, coat half-off, humming like the world wasn’t unfair. Like he hadn’t left you alone with the memory of him licking you while you were small enough to fit in his hand. “Belladonna!” he sang. “Did you miss me?”

You stood frozen, lips pressed tight, fighting the heat in your face. He tilted his head, eyes catching immediately on your bare legs, the hem of his shirt barely covering your thighs. A slow, lazy grin curved his lips. “Ohhh…” He dragged out the syllable, dropping his coat on a chair. “Someone’s dressed to beg.”

“I am not—” You cut yourself off, groaning, then throwing your hands over your face. “Ugh. Fine. Maybe I am.”

Dazai’s grin widened. “Mmm. What is it you want, then?”

Your words came out in a rush. “I want the feather.”

He paused. Just for a second. Then he laughed—low and dangerous. “Ohhh, you do,” he purred, stalking toward you. “The same feather I used on my tiny, obedient doll? The one that made you squirm and moan until you couldn’t even speak?”

You nodded, unable to look at him. “…Yes.”

“Say it properly, belladonna.”

Your pulse stuttered. “I… I want you to use the feather on me. Please.”

He hummed, pleased. “Good girl.”

Before you could breathe, he scooped you up—full-size this time, but just as effortlessly—and carried you to the bedroom. He set you on the bed, eyes glinting as he rummaged in the drawer. A moment later, he returned with the very same feather between two fingers. “You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?” he murmured, climbing onto the bed, straddling your thighs. “The way I touched you. The way you shook in my hand. You’re my good little doll even like this.”

Your cheeks burned. “Shut up—”

The feather flicked across your nipple, and your words dissolved into a gasp.

“Hmm?” he teased, circling it in lazy spirals over your chest, letting the soft plume trail down your stomach. “Does my pretty girl want me to ruin her again?”

You whimpered, arching into the sensation. “Yes…”

“Then stay still.”

The feather traced lower, brushing your inner thighs, ghosting over sensitive skin until you were trembling, your hands clutching the sheets. Dazai’s free hand pressed your hips down firmly, his voice dropping to a sinful whisper. “You begged for this,” he said, the feather flicking just where you wanted it. “And I’m going to keep teasing you until you’re dripping for me.”

Your back arched as he kept circling, dragging the soft plume in maddening patterns. Every brush felt amplified, electric, like your body remembered being tiny and helpless under him—and now, full-size, the same sensations hit even harder. Dazai’s lips found your ear. “Good girl,” he breathed. “My perfect little doll.”

The feather flicked across your thigh again, so light it was almost maddening. You squirmed under Dazai, your hands fisting in the sheets, your pulse racing. He watched you with lazy amusement, one hand pinning your hip to keep you still. “You’re trembling already,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “And I haven’t even taken these off…”

He hooked a finger under the hem of his shirt—the one you were wearing—sliding it up slowly. You shivered as his knuckles brushed your stomach, then lifted your arms without thinking when he tugged it over your head. “Perfect,” he whispered, eyes roaming. “No bra. Were you hoping I’d say yes?”

You swallowed. “…Maybe.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your breast, his hair tickling your skin. Then the feather followed, tracing over your nipple in lazy circles. You gasped, arching up into the sensation.“Sensitive girl,” he murmured, switching to the other side. “My pretty little doll who begs for feathers and gets wet just from this…”

Your breath stuttered when he finally dragged the feather lower, toying along the waistband of your underwear. He hooked a finger there too, tugging gently. “Take them off,” he said. You hesitated, heat flooding your face. “Or I will.”

You slid them down your legs, tossing them aside with shaky hands. Dazai’s eyes darkened instantly. “Good girl.” He brushed the feather between your thighs, so lightly it made your hips jolt. Then again, a slow drag over your slick folds, just a whisper of sensation. “Already so wet,” he whispered. “You really are my perfect doll.”

You whimpered, rolling your hips up, but he pressed your hip down again. “Uh-uh. Stay still.” The feather made slow, deliberate circles over your clit. You gasped, back arching, legs trembling. He alternated between light flicks and soft, maddening swirls, every touch sending sparks through your nerves. “Does it feel good?” he asked.

“Yes—”

“Then tell me how much you love it.”

“I—I love it, Dazai, I—ahhh—”

“That’s it, pretty girl. My little doll loves her feather, doesn’t she?” He leaned closer, lips brushing your ear as he teased you mercilessly. “I could keep you here all night, just like this, trembling and needy, until you’re dripping all over my sheets.”

You were already so close, your body taut with need, and when he let the feather press just a little harder, circling your clit perfectly, the heat snapped. You came with a loud, broken moan, body jerking under him. But Dazai didn’t stop.“Good girl…” he murmured, his free hand cupping your cheek while the feather continued its slow, devastating rhythm. “So perfect for me… but I’m not done yet.”

You whimpered, your body oversensitive, hips twitching as he dragged the feather lower, along your entrance, teasing but not giving you what you wanted. He watched every reaction, drinking in your helplessness. “Look at you, my sweet little doll… trembling and leaking for me…” He gave a lazy grin. “You’re going to come for me again. And again. And again. Until you’re begging me to stop.”

Your breath hitched, and your hips rolled instinctively toward the feather. “Ah-ah… patience, belladonna. Let me ruin you slow.”

You whimpered, your legs already trembling as Dazai trailed the feather down your slick folds. Your first orgasm still pulsed faintly through your body, but he wasn’t giving you a break. “Too much?” he asked, mock-innocent, eyes glinting with wickedness.

“Yes—” you gasped, hips twitching, “but—ahh—don’t stop—”

He chuckled, dark and low. “My needy little doll… Always so honest for me.”

The feather slid over your clit again, slower this time, circling with just the right pressure. Your hips bucked involuntarily, and Dazai’s hand pressed them down, forcing you to take every trembling second of it. “That’s it,” he purred. “So good… look at you, already shaking, and I’ve barely even started.”

You whimpered as he teased you toward the edge again, relentless but precise. He dragged the feather lower, dipping it along your entrance before pulling it back up, brushing across your clit just right. Your whole body arched.

“D-Dazai—”

“Come for me again, belladonna.” His voice was a soft command against your ear, his lips brushing the shell. “Be my perfect little doll and give me another.” The coil snapped. Your orgasm hit harder this time, tearing a loud cry from your throat as your hips jerked helplessly.

He didn’t stop. “That’s my girl…” he whispered, watching you shiver. “So pretty when you come. I think we can do one more… maybe two…”

The feather began its dance again, merciless and patient, tracing every sensitive spot with infuriating precision. You were already so raw, so sensitive that every brush sent a jolt through you. You tried to twist away, but his hand gripped your hip firmly. “Ah-ah… I said stay still,” he reminded you, his voice firm but dripping with praise. “Be good for me, and I’ll let you break as many times as you want.”

He alternated between flicking your clit and tracing teasing circles until you were sobbing with pleasure, your third orgasm crashing over you in shuddering waves. Tears pricked your eyes, your chest heaving. “Shhh… beautiful girl,” he cooed, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “So perfect for me. I could watch you come all night.”

When he finally set the feather aside, you barely had time to breathe before he slid between your thighs, lining himself up. “I think my doll deserves her reward,” he murmured, and then he pushed into you slowly—so slowly—stretching you perfectly, his cock filling you in a way that made your eyes roll back.

You moaned, clutching the sheets. “Dazai—”

“Mmm, that’s it,” he groaned, bottoming out and holding you there. “Feel how perfectly you take me… so warm, so tight, so wet from all those pretty little orgasms.”

He started moving, slow at first, then faster, his hips snapping against yours in deep, hard thrusts. The feather returned, this time gliding across your nipples, making you arch and whine under him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, voice rough with lust. “My perfect doll… letting me fuck her, taking it so well… god, I love ruining you.”

Your fourth orgasm tore through you with his name on your lips, your body clenching around him. He groaned, leaning down to kiss you, never slowing his pace. “That’s it, belladonna… one more for me… give me one more and I’ll fill this perfect little pussy…”

The feather teased your clit again, and you shattered, clinging to him as you came hard. Dazai groaned, thrusting deep, and spilled inside you with a low, satisfied moan, his praise whispering against your skin as you trembled in his arms.

Your body felt like jelly, boneless and spent. You barely had the strength to whimper when Dazai finally pulled out, his hands immediately gentle. “Mmm, look at you,” he murmured, tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “My perfect little doll, all used up and ruined.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Stop calling me that…”

He laughed softly, peeling your hands away to kiss your flushed cheeks. “Oh, but you’re so cute when you blush. Tiny or full-sized, you’re always my doll.”

He grabbed a warm towel from the bedside table—because of course he’d thought ahead—and started gently cleaning you up, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs and over the sore spots on your hips. “You did so good for me tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and fond as he wiped you down. “So obedient, so pretty… I’m proud of you, belladonna.”

You mumbled something incoherent, your eyes half-lidded as he tossed the towel aside and tugged one of his soft, oversized shirts over your head. Then he slid into bed beside you, pulling you onto his chest like you weighed nothing. “Comfy?” he asked, kissing the top of your head.

“…Mmhm.”

“Good. Because I’m not letting you move for the rest of the night. My doll needs her beauty sleep.” He nuzzled your hair, one hand tracing lazy patterns on your back. “Besides, I like you here… warm, soft, and mine.”

You swatted weakly at his chest, and he only chuckled, tightening his hold. “You know,” he teased, his voice mischievous again, “you were way more obedient when you fit in my hand. Maybe I should ask our new friend to shrink you again sometime.”

“Dazai—!” you squeaked, smacking him harder this time, which only made him laugh harder.

“Okay, okay,” he said, kissing your forehead. “Full-sized or tiny, I’ll take you either way… because you’re my perfect little belladonna.”

You huffed, hiding your face against his neck, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips as he held you close, whispering sweet nothings and the occasional teasing threat about the sock drawer until you drifted off in his arms.

[occams-painting-knife]

The Bookmark

Pairing: Spencer Reid/gender-neutral reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: (Non-explicit ) discussion of sexual topics, dirty talk, sub/dom undertones, allusion to guided masturbation, but fade to black before any clothes come off

Other content: Established relationship, second-person point of view, no use of y/n

Summery: On the way to a case, Spencer finds a surprise from you, his partner, in his book…

Author's note: My muse saw this post and went feral. I am not sorry.

Read on Ao3

Spencer tapped his foot all the way through the case summary.

This long weekend had been awaited for weeks–seventy-two hours to spend with you.

And then he was called in.

Spencer was almost angrier with the other team declining because they had an internal emergency than he was with the unsub!

You had looked so crestfallen when Spencer ended the call, guessing beforehand what he would tell you.

It would’ve been easier if you had been angry at him, but you had smiled and nodded, »Another time.«

He had promised you to make it up while grabbing his overnight-bag, stuffing his latest read into it without looking. And continued until the door of his apartment closed behind him.

You had told him last night you had a surprise. That made it worse. So much worse.

How long until you tired of the job calling him away? Until he couldn’t make up for missed dates, missed weekends–missed time.

The memory of one day in the office came to mind–Hotch receiving a thick envelope and telling them matter-of-fact that Hayley had filed for divorce.

Spencer would not be composed when–if you ended the relationship the two of you had, even if you weren’t married.

Yet.

He had found himself staring a little too long into the windows of jewelry shops as of late…

»Something wrong, Pretty boy?«

He jerked, Morgan’s voice pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. »No. Everything is fine.«

»You sure?–Because you were trying to burn the file with your glare, but now you look at it like it might set you on fire.«

Even if Spencer had been willing to put all his worries into words…–he did not want to share you with the team. Not yet.

He tried to reassure Morgan it was nothing, but the older profiler didn’t believe him…

After some more needling, Spencer retreated to the other end of the plane, pulling out his book to pass the time until arrival.

He was exited to read how the next… chapter… would -

His brain short-circuited, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, even as the blood rushed to his face.

This. This wasn’t…

What?

»Spence?«

He slammed the book shut, his ears burning.

»You okay?« JJ asked, looking a little worried.

»Yes.«

His voice was too high-pitched, too breathless–Why couldn’t he be a better liar, just this once?!

Thankfully, his best friend didn’t press, returning to her plan on how to wrangle the media for this case.

His face had to be glowing when he opened the book again.

... He hadn’t been hallucinating, at least.

But good god!

Instead of his usual bookmark, a Polaroid of you sat between the pages.

A view from gorgeous collarbones, down to the middle of your thighs. Wearing something that he could only describe as the most enticing set of lingerie he had ever seen.

Bright purple hugged your body in ways that shouldn’t be possible unless that lace was painted on you.

You looked so attractive, Spencer’s brain was liquefying–or at least it felt like that.

He wanted to reach and touch you so badly. Discover how the fabric contrasted with the softness of your skin and –

Spencer closed the book. More carefully, this time.

Whatever luck that did him, with the image burned into his retinas…

There were several hours of work between him and the relative privacy of a hotel room. If he allowed these thoughts to occupy his mind now… his red face was betraying him; he didn’t need other body parts to join in.

Spencer closed the door of the hotel room with a relieved sigh.

The last few hours had been… hazy.

He must’ve said something intelligent enough to earn that approving little nod from Hotch–Whatever that had been.

Spencer let his bag fall beside the bed, dialing your number.

All the thoughts he had worked hard to suppress these past hours rushed forward with a vengeance.

»Sweetheart,« you greeted him, a smile in your tone, even though you sounded a little sleepy, »Did you make it to the hotel?«

»I found the Polaroid,« the words came out in a desperate breath, his voice bordering on a whine.

Silence.

Then you let out a low curse, wide awake, »I am so sorry!–I forgot that I slipped that into your book!–Did you have any problems because of it?«

»No,« he replied, »And I… I really like it.«

The admission had blood rush to his cheeks.

»Did you now, sweetheart?« Your tone changed into a sensual drawl that would’ve made his knees buckle were he not sprawled on the hotel bed.

»Y-Yes.«

»You spoiled my surprise. The picture was supposed to be a memento…« he could hear the smirk in your voice, the one that meant Spencer was in the kind of trouble he had no intention to get out of.

»I guess it’s a little preview–Of what waits for you once you are home like a good boy.«

Spencer clammed a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the moan. Hotel room walls were paper thin.

»Please,« he whispered, saying your name like a prayer, »I…–Please!«

»Tell me your color, sweetheart?« You requested to make sure he was on board and comfortable. The traffic light system worked well for the two of you.

The way you ensured so naturally that he was safe made him feel like embers settled in his belly, all warm and cared for.

»Green. Very green–I want you so bad.«

»My poor boy, all worked up,« you murmured, equal parts teasing and loving, »Are you on the bed?«

He nodded, even though you couldn’t see him, »Yes.«

»Comfortable?«

This time, he couldn’t suppress a whine, »You aren’t here!«

No matter how desperately you wished for it…

»Shh–I am right here, sweets. Do you want me to take care of you?«

God, yes.

»Yes, please!«

You let out the softest sound of pleasure, and it went straight to his heart–and between his legs.

His trousers became increasingly uncomfortable.

»Grab your headphones,« you instructed, sounding breathy, »Did you pack lube?«

Spencer hesitated before he admitted, somehow managing to blush harder still, »Yes, I did.«

»Good boy, so foresighted–Now get comfortable; I want to have you all to myself…«

He did not need to be told twice.

»How are you feeling, sweetheart?« you asked softly.

Spencer was still floating on a cushion of satisfaction and pleasant exhaustion, »Good.«

The afterglow loosed his tongue, »I miss you embracing me. The scent of your perfume. I miss you.«

»I miss you, too, Spencer.«

Nibbling on his bottom lip, he asked, »Are you angry that I left?«

You sighed, »No, I am not angry–Disappointed, of course, but…«

It took a moment for you to find fitting words, »I wanted to talk with you about this once you are back. Now is not the right time to discuss it.«

He sat up, ignoring his state of debauchery, »Are you breaking up with me?«

»No, Spencer.«

The simplicity of your reply eased him more than long promises could ever have.

»This is what I meant, not the right time,« you repeated, now teasingly, »You’ll overthink my answer until you’ve convinced yourself I am planning to break up with you to move to Island and open a pottery studio!«

»I am not!« He wanted to protest, but his own yawn cut him off.

You laughed softly, »Get into the shower and then try to sleep, sweetheart.«

»Okay. I -« I love you »- I’ll be home as soon as I can,« he promised.

»The longer you take, the more time I have to make bookmarks.«

Hours later, while eating breakfast with the team, Spencer was still trying to figure out if that had been a threat–or a promise.

[raphael-angele]

Okay, I get Marauders being Snape's bullies but can we all agree that Snape and Lupin had a Frenemies relationship?

In Potions class:

**They are forced to be partners**

Snape: Alright, I'm about to add the moonstone

Remus: *writing* Alright

Snape: *sees the notebook* What's that? *points to word*

Remus: That's moonstone.

Snape: The hell it is!

Remus: It is!!

Snape: Lupin, I've seen chicken scratches on dirt that are artistic masterpieces compared to your penmanship

Remus: I'M DYSLEXIC! MY HANDWRITING IS BOUND TO BE SHIT

Snape: I'M DICTATING WHAT YOU WRITE! HOW WOULD THAT AFFECT IT?!

Remus: GO FUCK YOURSELF, SNIVELLUS!

---

Remus, running up to Snape: Help. Me.

Snape: ...what?

Remus: Sirius, James, and Peter are trying to get me to -

Sirius: Moony!

Remus: Oh, Godric! Heyy!

James: C'mon, mate. We're gonna have to get going if we wanna sacrifice the chickens on time.

Peter: We have 7 minutes and if we use brooms, we can make it with 2 minutes to spare...if we wanna risk our bones, that is.

Remus: Aw, guys, sorry. Snivellus just told me that we have to finish a report by tonight.

Sirius: what?

Remus: Yeah. We wanna get this over with. Right, Snivellus?

Snape: ...yeahhh

James: Can't you do it by yourself?

Snape: The professor said to take turns writing the report on the notebook. I wrote it last time.

Remus: Yeah, it sucks. Well! I'll see you guys later!

Peter: Oh, well, okay. Good luck on the report.

Marauders: *leave*

Remus: *sighs* Thank you.

Snape: ...you actually do have to write the report.

Remus: I know. Let's go to your common room.

Snape: ...what were you gonna sacrifice the chickens for?

Remus: Trust me, you don't wanna know.

---

Snape: Lupin.

Remus: Snivellus, I thought we agreed not to interact unless for academic purposes.

Snape: This is a one time emergency

Remus: ??

Snape: I need you to punch me in the throat.

Remus: ???...Why??

Snape: Because, McGonagall said I should go commentate the Quidditch game tomorrow and I'd rather not do that.

Remus: ...sounds reasonable. Aight.

---

Remus: Hey.

Snape: What happened to conversations only for acamdemic purposes?

Remus: This is kinda one.

Snape: ??

Remus: Regulus is looking for a tutor.

Snape: I know. I heard him asking around.

Remus: Okay, so, hear me out: I tutor him in DADA, Lily tutors him in Charms, you tutor him in Potions

Snape: ...And why would I do that???

Remus: Because it would drive Sirius and James absolutely insane.

Snape: Really? C'mon, Lupin, you actually think that's gonna work?

Remus: Think about it! The people they have massive crushes on hanging out with the guy they hate the most and their little brother?

Snape: ...let's do it.

[ferigrievous]

KEISHIN UKAI HCS ⋆˚࿔

mixed race. half asian on his dads side, ¼ mexican  and ¼ white (brookyln) on his moms side. 

everyone makes fun of his english because of his accent and odd vocabulary and makes him do it as party tricks. its 10x worse with his spanish so he barely speaks it.

anxious smoker but denies it when anyone brings it up

biggest guilty pleasure are early 2000s baking shows and every season of is it cake

absolutely is not superstitious if you ask but doesnt want to try his luck

somehow gets roped into parent-teacher events even though hes literally the coach

ended up getting a license to substitute at karasuno. tells people who ask that its ‘for extra cash’ but its really to make it up to takeda for all hes done. wont say it out loud though.

always keeps gum in his pockets but half of it has probably turned to lint by now

used to be that metalhead that had insane hair but it was so fried he had to buzz it all off. did not learn his lesson and bleached it twice a year until he turned 30

hates ironing clothes. wears everything wrinkled unless he really has to

drinks black coffee when hes out with people but when he’s alone he drinks the fuck out of a mocha dude

has a group chat with old teammates that’s been active since 2007

once tried yoga and pulled something. never went back after that

actually a really good cook but pretends he’s not because he doesn’t want to do it often

did most, if not all of his piercings himself with a safety pin and lighter.  the only ones he got professionally done are his bridge and lips.

also has some questionable stick and pokes on his ankles that he never bothered to go over despite having a whole finished sleeve

sometimes forgets he’s a coach and starts playing during practice

still has the bike he bought in highschool but barely uses it now because takeda always drives him around if they’re going somewhere (he pretend he hates it but he knows hes getting too old for it)

crazy good at any card game and at shuffling cards

quit smoking a little after everyone graduated by switching to nicotine gummies and putting them inside of an icebreaker container and letting god decide if he decides to be fried or not

has the worst handwriting youve ever seen in your life like im actually so serious

honest to god gets violent if he gets a paper straw with his drink and will go on a rant everytime

his fridge has beer, leftover curry, and maybe one onion

wears the same watch every day even though it’s been dead for months

snores like a fucking sailor to the point where after the first overnight team outing takeda bought him a cpap because he thought it was sleep apnea. turns out hes just like that.

has a stash of energy drinks “for emergencies” but drinks them recreationally

claw machine victim. has never won one ever but tries everytime. its like microdosing gambling

says he hates drama but knows everything. such a chismoso but pretends otherwise.

that guy who falls asleep anywhere. standing up, sitting down, in a bar, anywhere. out like a light.

has a very specific bedtime routine but gets mad if anyone asks about it

believes in tough love but not cruelty

used to work at a non-volleyball related summer camp and lowkey kind of misses it