#(i do admit she looks very sharp in a suit)

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[ddejavvu]

I can’t stop thinking about being a suspect in a case and being interviewed by Hotch 😭 like being so nervous and him taking it as like “??? are you even gonna try hiding it??” and you’re not gonna be honest and be like “i’m not nervous because i’m guilty i’m nervous BC YOURE A HOT OLD MAN” because this is a serious case and serious situation so it’s just Hotch trying to coax it out of you, you being all flustered looking suspicious but actually like needy for this man, and the team who caught on like “oh wait no. shes just attracted to him. why do we have hot people on the team?”

SSA Hotchner's scrutinizing gaze studies your weak posture, your fidgeting fingers, your spotty eye contact, and he muses, "You're not very good at controlling your body language."

"What?" You look at him, eyes wide and round and full of nerves. You've never been questioned before, not even by a low level security officer, much less an FBI Agent. You suppose that's making you nervous, yes, but what's really wringing you out is the fact that the one they sent to your interrogation room is just plain hot.

He's gorgeous, all sharp features that are always angled towards you, and dark eyes you'd expect of a criminal, not its captor. His suit is crisp and his voice is low; he's the pinnacle of professionalism and he's making you squirm with his undivided, discerning attention.

"You're nervous," He accuses, and you let out a soft huff in the back of your throat.

Who wouldn't be?

"You're fidgeting, you can't look me in the eyes, you lean away from me," He lists, leaning forwards in his chair to watch you repel like a magnet, your back pressing into the metal bars behind you as he proves his point.

"I'd think someone with the criminal expertise to commit six murders without witnesses would have a better handle on their outward appearance."

"I'd think so, too," You manage, not without stammering, "Agent- Agent Hotchner, I- I'm not-"

"You're not guilty? You're the closest thing we have to a suspect," He doesn't let your stuttering deter him, leaning ever-closer until you're flattened against the back of your chair and he's still advancing. He rises from his seat, inching closer and closer as he continues, "You miraculously discovered the body at an odd hour of the night when you had no business being at the scene of the crime, you called it in, you told the police you knew nothing, you're telling me you know nothing, but still," He's inches away from you now, and every nerve in your body is aflame with mortification at the very unhelpful fantasies rushing through your head as he pins you to the chair.

"-You insist on your innocence, but I don't think you're innocent at all. I think you're trying to toy with us, but we don't play games, you won't win. Understand?" His dark eyes bore into your own and you're painfully attracted to them, biting the inside of your cheek to stop from begging him to back away before you lose control and surge forward to kiss him. He refuses to blink, but you're doing it enough for the both of you, lashes rapidly fluttering as you try calming your pounding heart. He watches you for one, two, three, four, five seconds, expecting a hurried confession at any moment, but the door clicks open before you can stammer something humiliating.

"Hotch," It's a dark-haired woman, and god, does the FBI recruit people based on attractiveness? She's stunning and she turns her beautiful eyes on you in sympathy, "Back off, Hotch. She's innocent."

He narrows his eyes at her almost imperceptibly, turning away from you, "You found the unsub?"

"No," She admits, "But it's not her. Okay? I just know."

"You just- Agent Prentiss," Agent Hotchner stands straight, "That's not protocol."

"I know," She gushes, but she strides confidently through the room to ease you upright and out of your chair, "Just- let me handle this, okay? Come on, honey, we'll talk somewhere private."

Agent Hotchner lets her take you away, and he must trust her, even if he's watching her with narrowed eyes. Maybe this is some interrogation tactic, maybe the woman leading you by the shoulder through the precinct is the good cop, and he was the bad one.

She leads you past a cluster of people all leaning against desks or hunching over files, and a slim blonde woman shoots you a knowing smile. What she knows, you're not sure, but you wish so badly that it were comforting.

The woman walking with you leads you straight to the front door, taking your purse from where they'd confiscated it earlier and handing it back to you.

"You're free to go," She smiles at you, eyes nothing but kind, "I'll tell him you proved your innocence."

"But- what," Your fingers are almost too limp to keep your bag in their grip, "I don't understand-"

"I do," She grins, "He's handsome, I get it. He tends to forget that."

Your cheeks sear with flames that you wish would turn you to ash right then and there, so that you could be carried away on the breeze and not have to answer for your embarrassing instincts.

"Don't worry about it," She laughs, clearly sympathetic to your panic, "Trust me, you're not the first person that's squirmed in their seat under the intense gaze of Aaron Hotchner. He's a smart man, but never smart enough to figure out when someone likes him. You're free to go, honey," She repeats, reaching out to squeeze your arm, "And if you ever get dragged into an investigation again - which I hope you don't," She grins, "I wish you a very ugly investigator."

[greatunironic]

eddie wakes up in a strange room. this was not particularly unusual for him, historically: he’d spent most of his twenties waking up in new and interesting places (including a handful of jail cells). but after eddie, the label, and the los angeles superior court system decided it would be best if he stopped drinking and doing blow, it stopped being such a regular occurrence.

so it’s almost alarming to him, now, to be blinking up at an unfamiliar cement ceiling with the raging bitch of all headaches and generally feeling like he got hit by a truck, got whiplash in a crash with the way his neck aches. he’d think he was hungover like all those times before except for how sharp the pain is, bright.

he worries, briefly, he’s relapsed, or someone’s slipped him something. but he remembers what him and the boys had been up to, before this, and he thinks it’d’ve been a strange night indeed if someone roofied a c-list (b-list if he’s feeling charitable) musician at a fucking frozen four game.

because yeah, eddie remembers: they’d been third row, watching the wisconsin ladies clean up and cheering for jeff’s kid sister like she was about to get olympic gold. (she probably would, someday. her and that mayfield girl who played defense were looking down the barrel at a 2026 run apparently.

eddie’s been to a handful of games over the years, when touring and recording allows them to go. he’s resolutely never been a sports guy but he’ll admit, when pressed, that live hockey is pretty dope. to say nothing, of course, of how jeff would probably murder them all in their sleep if they didn’t rep the red and white for lottie.

(and also — and this is between eddie and his god alright — but lottie’s coach? standing back there in his suit, hair styled and dialed, snapping his gum, yelling at the refs? kind of doing it for him, okay. worth the price of admission, even if the tickets weren’t free.)

when he thinks harder — which hurts too — the last thing he clearly remembers was someone from the beavers scoring, bringing their lead to 5-1, and a slapshot from the other team getting out over the boards and nearly taking out some lady’s popcorn. someone behind them in the seats said, “jesus they’re getting desperate, eh?”

then shit goes dark on him, not even a fade to black, but a full on smash cut, roll credits black, and the post-credits scene is where ever the fuck eddie is at the moment. it smells like human and cold and icy hot, so obviously, he thinks, he died and went to hell like all the church ladies said he would back in hawkins, or probably just a locker room. what the fuck?

he blinks at the ceiling, at an interesting water stain on the cement texturing. he’s in the middle of wondering where the rest of his band has gone if he’s here alone, fucking abandoners, when a sweaty redhead with the bitchiest expression he’s maybe ever seen enters his field of vision.

“you’re alive,” she says.

eddie blinks again. “why do you sound so disappointed?”

“yo coach!” she shouts, already on the move away from him. “he’s alive!”

he tries to sit up, but that makes the pain in his head worse, and also draws attention to the fact that his back also hurts. he squeezes his eyes shut and makes a truly embarrassing noise of pain — if pressed, he’d call it a whimper — and a pair of big hands land on his shoulders.

“out, out ladies i got this! hey!, hey, man, don’t move just yet,” says big hands.

“yeah, no problem, i don’t want to anymore,” eddie says. he stirs up the will to open his eyes again and very nearly slams them back shut. because of course the person staring down at him is fucking coach hottie snackycakes himself. he’s even better looking in person, too, big droopy eyes, lips as pink as his bubblegum, and shiny, jesus christ. he’s still got eddie by the shoulders, hands warm through the thin cotton of his flannel and tee — because eddie’s always been more fashion than sense, wayne always said, and it’s even worse now that the paps are on him—

“oh, fuck this is gonna be all over tiktok later, isn’t it?” he moans.

“maybe not.”

“don’t lie.”

“listen, eddie — it is eddie, right?” asks coach hottie. “i’m steve. coach harrington. faughnsie — lottie, i mean — she said you’re eddie. her brother’s guitarist? what do you remember?”

“more like he’s my singer,” he says, “but sure. and not much.”

“well, you’re gonna be okay,” says coach hottie — steve. “it really wasn’t that bad, and it was probably too fast for anyone to get it, unless they already had a camera on you. you took a puck to the head when one popped up. i’d apologize but it wasn’t one of my girls who did it, so. anyway — you weren’t out for long, which robbie says is good — she’ll get a look at you in a second — but you got your bell rung pretty good. and you’re gonna have quite the shiner, trust me.”

“speaking from experience?”

“oh, yeah. closer and faster too.” he gently raps his head with his knuckles. “too many concussions too early ended my nhl days, in fact.”

“oh. oh shit, sorry, i—“

“don’t worry about it, man, it happens,” he says. “and if it hadn’t, i wouldn’t be here.”

“at the frozen four.”

“yeah, sure, that too.”

“what?”

“what?” steve waves him off. “anyway, i’m just glad to see you up, ish, and talking. looked pretty scary, from the bench.”

“i really don’t remember,” says eddie. “but i’m sure i’ll see it on tiktok later, like i said — at least, my unconscious, bleeding form.”

“i got up there pretty fast, so i doubt it,” says steve.

eddie blinks, twice. “you—?”

“you were behind my bench, and you. well,” he says with a shrug, but he’s clearly a little embarrassed, finally putting those hands away — weapons of eddie destruction, he thinks — and shoving them into his pockets of his tight slacks. “i should be getting back out there.”

“do you? you’re murdering them pretty good, unless i black out and missed them getting four more goals,” eddie says.

the corners of steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. eddie thinks he might just pass out again. “no, we’re still gonna cinch it, i think. looks bad, though — first time coach missing the final period so’s he can hit on the cute musician who got his clock cleaned by the biscuit.”

“oh,” he says. swallows. “uh.”

steve’s crinkly, smiley eyes go wide. “unless—“

“no less!” eddie shouts and then immediately winces. at a better, less damaging to his more than slightly concussed noggin, volume, he says, “more, actually. because pretty sure i shouldn’t be left unsupervised, and i’ve clearly been abandoned by the band, so—“

“so,” says steve.

“coach, two minutes!” someone calls.

“so, i was hoping maybe i could keep hitting on the hot hockey coach back at his?”

“i’m at the ramada inn,” he says, “and i got tape to watch for the finals.”

“i live for room service,” eddie tells him seriously. “and i’m suddenly very into wisconsin sports teams.”

“coach! go time!”

“yeah?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“COACH!”

he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “i gotta — but, uh, later?”

“pick me up in twenty?”

“probably more like half an hour, with stoppage,” he says.

someone bangs on the door. “COACH!! let’s boogie!!”

with one last look, wide eyed and smiling, steve leaves. eddie watches him go. he’d heard hockey players were caked up but lord — eddie is about to convert to a new religion, or maybe found one, over the stretch of those slacks.

“damn,” he says quietly.

“gross,” a woman says. eddie startles and looks to the side, where a lanky brunette with a bob and an undercut is staring at him, unimpressed. she’s in some get up that screams athletic trainer, and there’s a white board in her hand.

“how long have you been there?” he asks.

she raises an eyebrow. “long enough, and honestly, i don’t know if that counts as a you rule for him, or a you suck for you,” she says and does not elaborate when he asks. “also don’t look at him like that. it’s steve. he’s basically my sister.”

“yeah? any tips then?” asks eddie. “i promise i’ll only use them for good. well. mostly.”

“god,” she says with an expansive eye roll. “you’re gonna be a nightmare, aren’t you?”

a cheer goes up outside the room as the teams, presumably, take the ice again. eddie, head throbbing, concussed, embarrassed, grins. “sure hope so,” he says.

[bellaxgiornata]

Half of Forever [Two]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: break up, pining, idiots in love, angst with a happy ending

a/n: This part is all in Matt's POV and it's the second of three in this little mini series. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Matt's hand curled around Foggy's bicep as he descended the stairs of the courthouse, the heat of the midday sun warming him through his suit. Lowering his cane along each step, a sharp tapping resounded in his ears while he walked. As Foggy guided him back towards the office, a frown permanently settled along Matt's lips. 

Things had not gone how Matt had hoped this morning.

“Well that went about as well as I expected it to,” Foggy stated, mirroring Matt's thoughts. “And did you see Judge Andrews’ face, Karen?”

Karen was walking just a step behind Matt, her heels hitting the concrete a bit more harshly than usual. Matt heard her release a defeated sigh as her hand reached up, frustratedly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He could feel the agitation in her body and the tension in her muscles, already aware of her own soured mood before she'd spoken.

“Yeah, I saw,” she answered. “But the trial hasn't finished yet. Maybe there's a chance we can still turn things around?”

“I really hope so,” Foggy muttered. “But honestly I feel like we'd need a miracle at this point.”

Matt heard the movement of Foggy’s head turning in his direction the moment they'd stepped onto the sidewalk. He caught the unmistakable intake of his breath next, aware that Foggy was about to address him. And Matt had a good idea of exactly what it was that he was about to say.

“Are you just allergic to taking easy cases that make us money, Matt?” Foggy asked. “Because I think I remember telling you this one would be a pain in our asses. And look at that!” Foggy waved his free hand in the air. “It's turning out to be a pain in our ass!”

“Mr. Barrows is innocent, Foggy,” Matt replied, trying to restrain his own irritation. “And we help the innocent, if you recall.”

Karen remained silent, her head ducked down as she walked. But Matt felt the air shift as Foggy began nodding vigorously.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Yes we do. But we also have bills to pay. Do you remember what bills are, Matt? Because we have a lot of them. And not just for the law firm, but you know, outside of it, too. And maybe you're not big into the whole having somewhere to live thing,” Foggy sarcastically carried on, “but I think Karen and I both enjoy having apartments. And food.”

“I get it, Fog,” Matt stated flatly. 

“Do you though?” Foggy persisted. “Because you keep insisting we take these cases that you stumble on with your nighttime hobby. And unless Daredevil himself would like to take the witness stand, these cases become pretty damn impossible to fight.”

“You know I can't do that,” Matt pointed out. “For more than one reason.”

“No, of course not,” Foggy grumbled. “Because then we'd have even bigger problems. But all I'm asking is that we–”

Matt's fingers gripped tight around Foggy's arm when his senses unexpectedly picked up on something. Whatever Foggy had been saying had gone completely unheard by Matt as he momentarily ceased to even breathe. 

Standing absolutely still on the sidewalk, Matt swore he'd just caught the scent of your favorite perfume and the beat of your heart among the afternoon crowd milling about on the city’s streets. It was a combination Matt had once known better than even Foggy’s presence. Despite having thought about you more than he cared to admit over the years, Matt hadn't realized just how closely he'd been unconsciously looking for that distinct combination until he'd startlingly and accidentally stumbled on it.

His mouth felt like it had gone dry, his tongue sitting heavy as he recalled the scent of that very perfume filling his nose every time he had buried his face into the crook of your neck. Head shifting over his shoulder as his eyes narrowed behind his glasses, he attempted to focus in on where you were. While he scanned around himself, desperately hoping to find you again, someone roughly smacked into his side as they passed him. Matt stumbled backwards a step, but he still remained intensely focused in his search, paying no mind to anything else.

“Dude, what's going on?” Foggy asked in a hushed tone. “Is something happening in the city?”

“Back again, handsome Devil?”

Something like panic hit Matt next, his heart speeding up in his chest while his hand tightened around his cane. Your voice. It was like he could hear it as clear as when he used to slip through your apartment window late at night. With his head darting frantically from side to side, he continued to search for you like a man possessed. He wasn’t entirely sure what had taken over him, but he was determined to find you in the crowd again.

“Matt?” Karen’s hesitant voice cut through his concentration. “Is…everything alright?”

He’d opened his mouth, about to tell them both to keep quiet and let him just focus for a minute, but then he found it again. The perfume you always wore–a light floral scent that never gave him a headache or overwhelmed his senses. A scent that immediately stirred up a myriad of memories in his mind. The melodic sound of your laughter whenever he told a joke. The feel of your hand sliding up the inside of his thigh when you’d had a few too many to drink at Josie’s. Your fingers gently and tenderly tracing the injuries on his naked and battered body before he fell asleep in your bed. 

Closing his eyes, he focused in on the sound of your heartbeat as you made your way through the throng of people just across the street. It was the same rhythm he used to love listening to whenever he curled up with you in bed at night. He’d often rest his head along your chest, listening to the calming beating of it as your fingers absently carded through his hair. He’d never felt more at peace or more loved than when he was wrapped in your embrace listening to that exact sound. 

Except–

His mouth sinking even further into a frown, Matt’s eyes snapped open. Something wasn’t right. The cadence was a little off, not quite exactly the same sound as the one he’d so often fallen asleep hearing beating loud in his ear. 

No…that wasn’t you at all.

Jaw tightening at the surprise of how hollow he felt at that realization, Matt released his focus on the stranger across the street. She wasn’t you. Blinking hard a few times, he felt tears beginning to build in his eyes as a flood of despair slammed straight into him. It had been so long since he’d last heard your heartbeat that he’d gone and forgotten the sound of it. 

How could he have ever forgotten it?

“Matt?” Foggy tried again. “You okay, buddy?”

Throat tightening with emotion, Matt nodded weakly. “Yeah.”

“What uh, what was that all about?” he asked carefully. “Never seen you get so…quiet before.”

Matt cleared his throat a couple of times, hoping that he’d be able to form a sentence without his voice cracking and giving away how emotional he’d suddenly become. Blinking a few more times, he also hoped that he could hide the tears welling in his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses. 

“Just thought I heard something,” he replied, catching the tremor in his voice. “But I was mistaken.”

“Like what?” Karen asked curiously. “Someone in trouble?”

Matt’s lips pursed into a thin line as he shook his head. “No, nothing like that. But we should be getting back to the office,” he said, attempting to change the topic. “We’ve got a lot to prepare for if we hope to do better in court tomorrow.”

Reaching his hand back out, Matt grasped onto Foggy’s bicep once more. He hoped they’d just drop the entire thing despite how strange he knew he’d just appeared by stopping in the middle of a conversation and becoming entirely unresponsive. But as Foggy began to guide him down the sidewalk again, the sound of Karen’s heels resuming their clacking along the pavement, he could practically feel the thoughts swimming in both of their heads.

“So if it wasn’t a crime being committed, what was it?” Foggy asked half a block later. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty curious to know what the hell that was, too,” Karen chimed in.

The frown never left Matt’s face as he kept his attention straight ahead of himself, swinging his cane from left to right on the sidewalk. He didn’t want to think about this anymore, especially because the scent of your tears and the sound of you crying in his apartment from that night were steadily becoming impossible to ignore.

“You don’t mean that.”

You’d sounded so heartbroken. Because of him. Because of what he’d had to do.

“Nothing,” Matt muttered. “Just thought I’d heard someone.”

“Heard someone as in like…what?” Foggy pressed. “Planning a crime? Winning the lottery?”

Matt didn’t respond. Instead he sped up his pace, hoping the pair would drop the subject if he didn’t answer their questions any further.

“Okay, so I’m guessing,” Karen said, craning her neck to look past Matt and focus on Foggy along his other side, “that he thought he heard someone and not something .”

“You might be onto something,” Foggy mused. “Maybe a client of ours? Or some crime lord that he's been obsessively chasing after? Or possibly a– wait a minute !”

Matt’s shoulders tensed, his eyelids lowering as he let out a sigh. Internally he began begging God that Foggy hadn’t figured it out. Matt hadn’t brought you up in so long, surely you wouldn’t have crossed Foggy’s mind, would you?

But then he heard it. Your name.

“Who’s that?” Karen asked.

“She and Matt used to date,” Foggy explained, leaning forward and speaking as if Matt wasn’t right there. “A few years back. They were inseparable. Like disgustingly adorable. I was basically ready for Matt to ask me to be his best man at the wedding–”

“They were engaged?” Karen asked in surprise.

“No,” Foggy answered, shaking his head as Matt grit his teeth at the topic of conversation, “but they might as well have been. I’ve never seen Matt so happy before in my life.”

“That’s enough,” Matt interjected.

“So what happened?” Karen asked Foggy, ignoring Matt entirely. 

“Somebody here doesn’t know how to just let himself be happy,” Foggy said.

The air shifted as Foggy’s free hand began vigorously gesturing at Matt beside him. Matt’s nostrils instantly flared in frustration. He wanted this conversation to end. Now .

“I said that’s enough ,” Matt snapped.

“So you thought you heard her then, huh?” Foggy continued. “Somewhere nearby? I mean, I would imagine she’s still in the city somewhere. I told you a little over a year ago that I saw her in Hell’s Kitchen at a coffee shop. And I’m pretty sure I told you back then that you should call her.”

“We’re over , Fog,” Matt bitterly reminded him.

“Because you’re an absolute idiot!” Foggy shot back, guiding the pair of them across the street. “You can just never let yourself be happy, Matt. You always have to self-sabotage every relationship you have. And it’s sad.”

“I do not. And there was more to the break up than that,” he muttered. “That's not at all what happened.”

“It's you, Matt. That's exactly what happened. What more could there be?” Foggy asked in exasperation. “She knew you, man. Like knew you, knew you. And apparently you going out in your little pajamas and getting your ass beat wasn’t a turn off because she was still in love with you.”

“I love you, Matty.”

“Stop it,” Matt warned.

“I saw the way she looked at you,” Foggy pushed. “And I saw how you were around her, man. You were in love with her–you’re still in love with her.”

“You’re my forever.”

“And I will never let you live down how incredibly idiotic it was of you to end that relationship,” Foggy told him. “Because you could have been happy. You could’ve–”

“I said stop it !” Matt roared, his lip curled back in a snarl as his head snapped in Foggy’s direction. “Stop talking about her already! We’re over, Foggy. Do you understand that? She’s not a part of my life anymore and she hasn’t been for years. So stop it .”

An awkward silence fell among all three of them as they neared the law firm’s office. Matt’s teeth were grinding back and forth, his muscles tensed as he walked. The urge to hit something was becoming unbearable as his fist curled tighter around his cane. It didn’t help that the sound of your crying and the sad, broken pleas from the last night he’d spoken with you had begun playing on a loop in his mind. He’d broken your heart that night, he damn well knew that.

“Please, Matty. You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t–don’t walk away from this!”

“I love you, Matt. Why’re you doing this to us?”

But he’d also broken his own that night, too.

Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ethereal-blaze @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia

[exhaslo]

Hello! I really enjoy the last post you wrote involving the alternative outcome of Villain!Miguel x Hero![Reader]. I have another fun idea and it may be a little META.

Since there are a ton of Spider-Man 2099/Miguel O’Hara fics circulating around the internet…

How about a request with Spider!Fem![Reader] who secretly reads fanfics and smut fics she found from different universes in the multiverse? Let's say the [Reader] was reading fics involving her boss and the leader of the Spider Society, Miguel O’Hara since she is completely DOWN BAD for him. Then one day, she’s reading some smut involving Miguel and he catches her doing so.

He’ll probably tease her about it and things would escalate to something hot and spicy between the two Spiders.

- @club-danger-zone

*Looks around* Shall we break some cannon events? RIP SORRY FOR BEING CRINGE BUT LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO

Warning: Minors DNI, Smut, teasing, size kink, dirty talk

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This was getting bad. You needed to learn some self control. You kept telling yourself that, but it was difficult. You had a big problem that involved your fellow Spider, the boss man, the big bad leader of the Spider Society: Miguel O'Hara.

You were head over heels for the man. He was the definition of FINE. Honestly, you never even knew that such a Spiderman existed. You, yourself, was a Spider-Woman. Like everyone else, you had your story and your life. The only thing you didn't have compared to the others was a person who loved you.

No Mary-Jane.

No Gwen Stacy.

Hell, no Peter Parker.

You were your own variant. It frustrated you. So, when Miguel brought you along to the Spider Society, you ended up simping hard for him. You had so many wet dreams about him. So many nights with whatever sex toy you had in your closet. It was getting really bad. You needed to get laid or find something to entertain you.

"Heeeeey, (Y/N), guess what I stumbled upon," Lyla appeared before you.

You had just entered one of the guest rooms that some of the Spiders used to crash for the night. You turned towards the AI, taking off your suit.

"That you found or Miguel?"

"Me! Miguel would probably shut this down if he found out," Lyla said with a grin, sending you something.

You were suspicious, but checked your mail anyway. You were very close to Miguel, in his inner circle, so you had access to Lyla. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you saw the file before you. Lyla just appeared before with with a confident grin.

"That word doesn't have a real Spiderman. Apparently the Miguel there is in a movie. Soooooo, there are soooooo many stories involving him. You're going to enjoy the smut~"

"I-I can't," You said as you opened the first website, "You are a horrible influence. I will not read these!"

---------

"Oh my god, keep going," You whispered as you clicked on the next chapter.

Your cheeks were bright red as a wide smile engulfed your face. You were enjoying all of this smut far more than you would like to admit. Hell, it made those dreams of yours even more vivid. While it did not help with your raging crush, it did get your mind off of currently wanting to fuck your boss.

"Yes!" You squealed in joy.

"Someone is in good mood." Miguel said as he walked by, "You've been focused on your watch for the past week. What could you be reading from another universe?" He asked.

Your face paled as you quickly hid your watch. Miguel would never talk to you again if he knew. Hell, he might kick you out of the Spider Society for conflict of interest. That was the last thing you wanted.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel questioned.

Miguel could sense your nervousness. His senses were higher than everyone's. Sighing softly, Miguel motioned you to follow him to his office. He had originally approached you for another reason. He could never ask you about it though. Once the two of you were alone, Miguel looked at his watch and started to type away.

"Let's see...(Y/n)'s watch."

"W-Wait! Miguel, before you do-"

"Oh-" Miguel immediately made eye contact with you, "I didn't even know there was a world like this. Very specific."

"I-I'm sorry! I was just curious and you know...The stories were just so good-"

"His tongue swirled around your clit?" Miguel's grin widen towards your flustered cheeks, "The sheer size of his dick made you feel full?"

"M-Miguel...Y-You d-don't-" You bit your lower lip, feeling your body warm up as he read the story.

"I never knew you were into all this smut, and about me none the less. That explains why you smelled extra sweet this past week," Miguel muttered the last part, watching you, "You know (Y/N), you don't need to read these."

You glanced towards Miguel, watching him approach you. Your heart was racing as his body pressed against yours, pinning you to the wall. You could feel his hot breathe. This wasn't what you were expecting. He was teasing you for reading porn about him!

"I could have helped you instead," Miguel whispered in your ear. You stared right into his lustful eyes,

"So...I'm not in trouble?" Your voice was low as you leaned closer to him. Miguel chuckled lowly, his thumb pulling against your bottom lip,

"Do you want to be?"

"Depends on the punishment," You felt dazed as you leaned towards Miguel's lips.

"Read the story to me," Miguel whispered as he licked your lips before pulling away.

You whimpered lowly, your body craving him. Why did he have to do this to you? Miguel was just so tempting. You were folding hard. Without hesitating you pulled the story up and you started to read the story.

"His hands gently stroked down y-your waist," Your breathing shuddered as Miguel's hands started to do as you read. "H-His hips g-grind-"

"What's wrong? Can't even read me a story?" Miguel chuckled lowly as you watched you melt under him.

"H-His d-dick-" You gasped lowly as Miguel started to grind his hips against yours.

You whimpered quietly as you felt your panties get damper and damper. Miguel's face was so close to yours. Miguel brought his lips to your neck as he held your hips closer. His fingers rubbing circles around your hips.

"What about my dick?" Miguel chuckled as he felt you trembled, "Such a naughty girl, reading such things about me. All you had to do was ask,"

Miguel slowly undid the bottom of your suit, exposing your soaked and desperate cunt. He lifted you onto his desk, demanding that you kept reading. Much to his amusement, you did. Miguel resisted a groan as he took his dick out, rubbing it against your folds. Your moans were so sweet.

"M-Miguel s-started....s-started to...to e-enter-" You stuttered, trying to focus on reading, but was getting distracted. You whimpered a moan as Miguel started to push his tip inside you.

"You're sucking me in so well, you've been wanting this for how long now?" Miguel held your waist, sliding his cock deeper into you, "I could have made you feel good so much sooner. Were you that oblivious to my gestures?"

You cried softly as you focused on Miguel's thick length stretching your walls out. Your back rested against his desk, muffling moans as you squeezed against him.

"I-I guess so?" You told him. Miguel scoffed lowly before thrusting into you, "Ah~ W-Wait~"

"After making me wait so long? After masking my office with your sweet scent so many times? Amor (love), I've waited long enough and so have you."

You cried out a series of moans as Miguel started to slap himself into you. His dick making itself at home within your pussy. It felt so right. Felt so much better than you doing it yourself at home. You wrapped your legs around Miguel's waist, wanting to get closer to him.

"Who do you think gave Lyla access to those stories?" Miguel chuckled as you cam against his dick, "I grew tired of waiting and wanted to give you a little push."

"H-Hah~ Mhm~ C-Can...C-Can we do what some of those stories did then?" You begged. Miguel raised a brow as he pinched your clit, watching you squirm,

"That and more. My naughty girl needs to be punished first."

You moaned to his wishes, having him use you for his pleasure. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes, feeling your body grow hot again. With a grunt and a deep thrust, Miguel cam inside you. You shivered from the feeling, crying out his name.

"That's right. Now you're being a good girl," Miguel panted softly, soaking in the state you were in, "As much as I would love to continue, I have some reports to do. Why don't you pick your favorite story and we'll continue this tonight?"

"Mhm," You nodded towards his request, watching Miguel fix himself.

Miguel smiled before stealing a kiss from you before leaving. You nearly squealed as you fixed yourself up. Looking through all your saved stories, you felt a new fire light up inside you.

"Ohhhhh, I'm getting wrecked tonight~!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Haha, hope you enjoyed this!

[matthewfuckinggraygubler]

Could you do Spencer x reader where he’s holding a cast party and reader goes to his home to help get the party ready and confesses that she is attracted to him and he likes her back (Smut/ cute Fluff if possible)

Or could you do where the reader is starting to show her baby bump/ tell Spencer she’s pregnant? Thank uuu

Party with a surprise || Spencer Reid

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

· Category: fluff, smut-fluff, Angst

· Warning: Sex, pregnancy, body-shaming

· Words: 4854

· Summary: You and Spencer are really close, and lately, you've been hanging out a lot. You're excited to help him set up his party, hoping to spend more time with him. You had no idea things would change so quickly between you two.

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind!

· Masterlist

"Hey, have you sent animated invitations to everyone for Saturday’s party?"

You heard a voice complaining behind you as a coffee flew through the air and landed in your hands.

"Yes, don’t you like it? They turned out pretty good, didn’t they?"

"Big social event at Spencer Reid's house. Please be on time, if you've been invited it's because you're a very special person… The time, the day... the address... a heart, another one... moving animals... very creative, yes." He complained, barely holding back a laugh.

"I think it was successful… everyone liked it, they all confirmed their attendance, by the way. You’re welcome for the help," you responded sarcastically.

He hadn’t asked for help with the party, but you wanted to do it. It wasn’t something he would normally do, though you thought it was great, and it was as good an excuse as any to spend time together. You’d been friends for a long time, but lately, you’d been feeling more attracted to him than usual, something you tried to deny to yourself.

"I didn’t ask for it, no need, really, just you coming is enough." You knew he didn’t mean to bother you, which only made him more adorable.

"I’ll be there early on Saturday to help with everything. And don’t try to argue! I know you." You said with a cheeky smile but a certain authoritative tone, and he couldn’t help but smile too.

On Saturday, you arrived at his house at four sharp, loaded with bags full of decorations, food, and drinks. You climbed the stairs, feeling sweat trickling down your back and your heart racing. You wanted to look perfect for him. Once at the top, you dropped everything with a sigh. Your hair was a bit tousled, and your cheeks were flushed. Just as you were about to fix yourself up, the door opened.

"Hey… What are you doing…?" A shy smile appeared on his lips.

"N-nothing... I was… resting. I carried all these things up." You were still panting.

"You should’ve called me! You’re so stubborn... You’re early." He protested as he helped you bring in the bags.

"There’s a lot of decorating to do... Why are you throwing a party if you're going to complain so much?"

"Okay, okay, sorry. I’m just nervous. You... You look really pretty, by the way."

Your eyes widened, and you fought to keep your cheeks from turning red.

"Oh… Thanks…" You turned away, trying to hide the fact that the comment affected you, and started taking things out of the bag. "Come on… Help me..."

Before you could finish your sentence, Spencer was beside you, helping you take out the decorations and placing them on the table. His arm brushed against yours, and it was affecting you more than you'd like to admit.

"Hey, look." Spencer wrapped your head with a garland. "It really suits you," he said with a laugh. You were standing quite close, and your heart raced at his adorable gesture.

"Oh, so funny." You put a bow on his head. "Now you’re a gift."

He smiled when you didn’t pull away. He looked at you intently and, with a moment of bravery, said, "I don’t mind if I’m a gift for you."

Your cheeks flushed, and you lowered your gaze, feeling your heart pound. You didn’t expect such a direct declaration. Was he openly flirting with you? Was Spencer Reid flirting? He was, and you liked it, but the idea of crossing that line with your best friend terrified you.

As you both decorated the living room, the tension between you increased with every accidental touch and prolonged glance. Your body responded instinctively to his closeness, but a part of you fought to maintain distance. When you finished, you both sat on the couch.

"Have you thought about the music? Parties have music, Spence..." You grabbed your phone and searched for a lively playlist.

"Good thing you’re here, or else…" Suddenly, you felt his hand gently stroke your arm, casually, as if it were something he did all the time. You glanced at his hand out of the corner of your eye but tried to ignore it, focusing on your phone, but your body betrayed you, and your skin tingled at his touch. You looked up and realized he was much closer than you thought. The tension was palpable, like that typical movie moment where the protagonists kiss. You felt it, you wanted it, and you could tell he did too. But oh, right... just as you were about to get closer, the doorbell rang—a timely yet inconvenient coincidence. You both cursed internally; it was clear on your faces.

"I’ll get it..." Spencer said as he stroked your arm once more, pressing gently. You didn’t know what they had done to your friend and colleague. He was so bold, so confident, you couldn’t believe it, though you loved it.

When he opened the door, Penelope burst in, with Derek and JJ following behind.

"Heyyy!" The blonde greeted cheerfully.

"How’s it going, lovebirds? I brought this," Derek placed something to drink on the table.

JJ entered and sat in the living room, looking at you curiously when she saw your frown. She smiled.

Soon, the others arrived, and honestly, you were all having a great time. You kept handling the music for everyone's sake, and watching Morgan and Garcia break into dance quickly got the party going. Rossi pulled you out to dance, Emily and JJ made amusing comments, and Hotch stayed off to the side, sipping his drink and "smiling" at the spectacle. But noticing how Spencer never took his eyes off you for a second made your heart race non-stop. If there hadn’t been music, everyone could have probably heard your heartbeat.

You spent the whole night flirting, glances here and there, a touch now and then, a subtle comment whenever one of you got close to the other… Tonight you felt like you were on cloud nine. You went to Spencer’s room, where you had all left your personal things, to grab some lip balm from your purse. As you were about to leave, you bumped into him.

"Oh..! You scared me... Sorry."

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you." Spencer had a relaxed smile on his face. He had followed you, clearly wanting to be alone with you, and at that point, you had no control over your nerves.

"N-no, it’s fine..."

"You still… still haven’t danced with me," he said, raising his eyebrows, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that made you melt. You hadn’t really been aware of it until now. And suddenly, you realized you were in his room, in the dark, with only the light from outside and the sound of the music from the living room and your friends having fun.

"No, you don’t dance..." You said with a nervous giggle.

"I would dance with you," he replied, stepping closer.

The shy laugh that escaped you as you lowered your head, embarrassed, seemed like more than enough of a sign for him to approach, with a soft but determined touch on your waist. His touch was slow, cautious, waiting for any sign of doubt or rejection, but that never came. Instead, your hands slowly moved up his arms, tracing the path to his shoulders, and you were completely pressed together as you started a slow, swaying dance.

Your gazes locked, trapping you in the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to speak without words. Slowly, he leaned his face toward yours until your foreheads touched. He smiled—a smile full of tenderness you could see even with the dim light that entered, making you shiver.

With a slight movement of his foot, he closed the door, isolating the two of you from the rest of the world. The darkness surrounding you seemed to intensify your heartbeat. His hands, which had rested on your waist, began to slowly slide down, while yours, almost without realizing it, moved up to his neck, seeking more closeness.

Your noses brushed in a sweet, innocent gesture, but it was loaded with restrained desire. Your bodies, once swaying in sync, now moved erratically, but in that lack of coordination, there was something deliberate, as if every small accidental touch was a game you both wanted to keep playing. You could feel it—his body reacting, and yours responding to his touch.

Almost at the same time, you both leaned in, meeting in a kiss that, though passionate, was slow, delicate. With each touch, each caress of his lips on yours, you felt your mind fog, and time seemed to stop, letting only your deepest instincts guide the moment. Your tongues tangled together, while Spencer’s hands tenderly caressed the rest of your body, pulling it as close to his as he could, wanting to treat it with all the care in the world, and that’s when he seemed to realize he wanted to kiss every part of you. There was nothing innocent about the way your tongues intertwined, exploring each other with a sweetness that made you feel like you were floating. Spencer’s hands were careful, starting to explore your body with the same tenderness with which he kissed your lips.

He pushed you gently against the door, his ragged breath hitting your skin as he began a trail of kisses down your neck, slowly descending to your collarbone. Each kiss ignited a spark, making your thoughts completely vanish. The softness with which he treated you was a delicious contradiction; his kisses were soft, but the desire only made you burn more.

In the background, you barely heard the music and distant voices. Laughter, conversations, even Derek’s booming laughter or Garcia’s loud voice faded away. All that mattered was him and how his hands drew you closer to his body, as

In the background, you could barely hear the music and distant voices. Laughter, conversations, even Derek's loud laughter or García's booming voice faded away. All that mattered was him, and the way his hands pulled you closer to his body, as if he never wanted to let you go.

With a gentle movement, you pulled Spencer, and the two of you fell onto the bed. You on your back and him on top of you, his lips never stopped moving across your skin. A mixture of desire and tenderness filled every second. His body against yours enveloped you, not just physically, but emotionally, as you felt the intensity that only kept growing. And there, while Spencer's hands continued to explore your body with that infinite devotion, you knew that moment was just yours, perfect in its mix of passion and love.

His lips didn’t stop exploring every part of you they could reach, while his ragged breathing brushed your skin with an intoxicating warmth, the way his mouth lingered on your skin was slow, but filled with an intensity that made you shiver. Your hands weren’t still. They slid to his hair, tangling in it, tugging slightly, trying to feel him even closer. You could feel how every one of his movements seemed intentional, designed to make you feel loved and desired at the same time. He paused occasionally, breathing deeply. The silence in the room, broken only by whispers, shallow breaths, and the music in the background, became even more palpable when his lips finally met yours again in a deeper, more desperate kiss.

His hands rested on your face, caressing your cheek with an overwhelming softness. He looked into your eyes as his breathing steadied slightly, and then, in a low and husky voice, he said, "You can’t imagine how much I love you." His confession hung in the air, filling it with a warmth that pierced your heart.

You shivered, your body trembled, and your mind went blank. In that moment, it felt like you were floating away, all the feelings you'd been ignoring, and there he was, confessing that he loved you and making you feel like the most desired person in the sweetest way.

As his lips met yours again, Spencer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth. There was something mischievous in that gesture, something that seemed to remind you both that you'd been away from the party for too long. Your stomach fluttered, and you said, "I love you too, Spencer." The urgency started to grow more palpable. His body on top of yours pressed slightly, as if time itself was conspiring to make sure nothing and no one interrupted that moment.

Between kisses, soft laughter, and ragged breaths, he whispered in your ear, with a warm and conspiratorial tone: "They're going to look for us... they must be wondering where we are by now."

"Let them wonder," you replied with a half-smile, almost panting, as you pulled him closer, making your bodies fit together even more. You felt the heat on your skin, the fast beat of his heart, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. There were no longer just brushes of skin, his hands sought your breasts, caressing them beneath your clothes as he kissed your neck.

The hand that had been exploring your torso moved down to your abdomen, unbuttoning your pants. His hands began to slide more firmly over your waist, moving down, pulling off your pants and underwear. Despite the urgency you both felt, there was a softness in his touch that countered the fast pace of his kisses. It seemed like every gesture, every caress, was filled with love and devotion.

Between kisses, Spencer paused his mouth near your ear. "Tell me if you want me to stop..." His voice was a deep whisper, filled with that perfect mix of desire and respect, his words echoed in your mind as you bit your lip.

"No… Don't stop," you responded quickly, your fingers tangling even tighter in his hair, pulling him closer to you. You got rid of his belt, and his hands moved even faster, exploring every part of you, while his mouth reclaimed yours in a deeper kiss, full of that urgent desire. You knew that at any moment someone could knock on the door or ask about you two, but that only seemed to speed things up. You shivered when, in one swift movement, you felt him make you completely his.

Spencer breathed against your neck, his lips moving up and down, leaving a trail of kisses that made your skin burn with each touch. Between whispered moans of pleasure, you felt how his movements became faster, more intense, but never lost the sweetness that had characterized every touch, every kiss.

"You're perfect," he whispered against your lips, his voice ragged from the intensity of the moment. His hot breath brushed your skin as he kissed you over and over, his hands gripping you as if he didn’t want that moment to slip away.

You felt it too; that delicious mix of urgency and emotional connection that made you wish time would stop. As your bodies moved in unison, Spencer kept his eyes closed, as if that allowed him to thrust with more force, as if he wanted to savor every second. But when he opened them, he looked at you with such intensity that it almost took your breath away.

Words were replaced by unintelligible whispers, small confessions of love and desire that escaped between quick breaths. The urgency that had started when you fell on the bed now reached its peak, but even in those most intense moments, Spencer never stopped being tender. His hands, which gripped you more tightly, still kept that softness that made you feel protected and loved.

Finally, the moment culminated in an explosion of sensations, and he had to cover your mouth with his hand between laughs to keep quiet, though luckily the music was loud. The two of you clung to each other, breathing together, sharing the heat and the rapid beat of your hearts. Spencer buried his face in your neck, breathing deeply as he tried to calm down, letting his hand that had been over your lips fall.

After a few moments, both of you started laughing softly, your bodies still close. Spencer sat up just enough to look into your eyes.

"They definitely suspect something," he said, but his tone was light, playful. He didn’t seem too worried.

"I don’t care," you replied, laughing, as you caressed his neck.

That night meant something new for both of you. Monday morning when you arrived, he was there, and you looked at each other nervously, unsure of what to say. You had confessed your love to each other in the middle of the frenzy and hadn’t talked about it afterward. For the rest of the party, you were affectionate, more than usual, and of course, your friends noticed your absence and the playful flirting afterward. You didn’t escape the teasing comments either.

“Hey, lovebirds, here,” Derek handed each of you a drink. “You need to replenish your fluids.” My face turned as red as a tomato, and Spencer laughed, lowering his gaze.

“Morgan... leave them alone, don’t be cruel,” JJ was at least on our side, thankfully.

“I love it when there are new couples! The beginnings are so beautiful!!” García is undoubtedly the team’s biggest blabbermouth. I didn’t know where to hide, and I couldn’t understand why Spencer wasn’t feeling awkward about the situation.

“Alright, alright... Guys, stop, y/n’s going to bolt,” Rossi gestured with his hands as if calming everyone down. “So, where were we? Can someone turn up the music and bring me another drink?” Emily had definitely taken over a couch and was in her happy place.

After the party, I went home. JJ, Emily, and I took an Uber. Spencer and I said goodbye normally; I think we were embarrassed, with everyone there, we didn’t know how to behave. And for the rest of the weekend, we didn’t talk again.

When we saw each other again on Monday, it was a bit awkward. He greeted me when he saw me, and I didn’t know how to react.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How are you...?” He seemed like he wanted to say something more, but I think he was feeling the same as me.

“Uh, uh... I’m fine, and you...?”

“I... Well, I’m fine...” There was a pause. “Actually, no, I’m not.”

“You’re not? Okay, why not?” You thought this was the stupidest conversation you’d ever had.

Even with the silly conversation you were having, you cursed when you were interrupted.

“Hey, Reid, I need you to come with me to a crime scene.” Damn Morgan, he’s always so freaking inconvenient.

You spent the whole day at the office nervously trying to do the profile, but you didn’t make much progress. You kept glancing at the door. “Where had they gone?” you wondered.

It wasn’t until the middle of the afternoon that Reid appeared, exhausted from running all over the city, collapsing into his chair. When you saw him, you moved closer, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Hey... how did it go? You took a while.” You were worried when you saw his tired face, and you had the urge to hug him.

He slouched further in the chair. “It went well, it was just a long investigation. I’m tired,” his eyes locked on yours. “I... wanted to see you.”

You tried to contain a smile that was fighting to come out, but you lost the battle. Spencer gave you one in return, sincere, kind. And you saw him extend a hand, inviting you to take it. You didn’t think much about it; you wanted to feel his electrifying, warm, and comforting skin against yours again.

“The day felt so long without you.” You were starting to lose filters; you didn’t want them with him.

“It’s been endless. The thing is, I’ve had something on my mind all day, and I need to ask you.”

“Oh, okay... Go ahead, ask.” You were a nervous wreck, but you acted normal.

“Um... You and I... ? Are we... are we boyfriend and girlfriend...?”

Your smile grew wider without meaning to; you found it so adorable how he was asking to be your boyfriend, how he wasn’t sure if he already was after what had happened. He was sweet even for this. Though to be honest, you didn’t really know either.

“Hm... I’d like that... Do you... do you want to be my boyfriend...?” You asked with a bit of hesitation.

He gently pulled on the hand you had grabbed a few minutes ago, and with the other, he cupped your face and kissed you with a softness and tenderness that made you melt. Yes, he definitely wanted to be your boyfriend.

You spent a few dreamlike months together. You were in love, enjoying your time like any newly-started couple: many hours in bed, just as many out walking, countless more on the couch reading and eating chocolate ice cream like you loved so much, enduring the comments and teasing from your friends... You had been together for a month and a half, and for the last few days, you hadn't been feeling well. Some dizziness and more exhaustion than usual, though you didn’t think much of it.

A week later, and suddenly, the foods you once loved were making you feel sick. Everything disgusted you. By the time two months had passed, the lack of sleep and food, along with body aches, was getting to you.

"Hey, you've not been feeling well lately, babe. We’re going to the doctor," he insisted, kind but firm.

"Seriously, just leave it, these past few weeks have been stressful. I just need to finish this case."

"Stress? You can’t stop moving at night, your back hurts, you're irritable, you're not eating... It’s like…" His face changed completely, becoming sad.

"Like what…?"

"We started dating, and now you… Is this all because you don’t want us to be together? Do you want to go back?"

"W-what?" My eyes were wide. Had I made him think that? I had been so focused on myself that I hadn’t noticed how he was feeling. "NO! I love you! Do you hear me?" I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me.

Spencer nodded slowly and rested his forehead against mine. "I love you too. I’m just worried you’re not okay."

"You’re so adorable I could die right now, you know that?" His laugh, with his forehead still pressed against mine, made him even more adorable. He didn’t know.

A couple more weeks passed, maybe three, you weren’t sure. There was so much chaos in your life—working at the BAU had its downsides: traveling, long hours, constant outings... You hadn’t noticed a pattern until today. You had spent the last five mornings throwing up your coffee. “Sht…” you thought. Suddenly, you became aware of everything else: you were wearing leggings because your jeans were too tight, the aches, the fatigue, the chest pain, the nausea... “Fck… This can’t be, this can’t be…”

You panicked and got dressed quickly, trying not to think about it anymore. When you arrived at the bullpen, JJ showed up with some donuts and offered you one, but you refused as soon as the smell hit your nose.

“Ugh… no thanks, JJ…”

“Oh, alright… I’ll save one for later.” JJ looked at you closely.

“Hey, for how little you’re eating, you’re looking extra huggable. Love looks good on you,” Morgan joked about the obvious change in your body, and it crushed you. It was an innocent comment, seemingly positive, but you couldn’t take it.

“S-sorry, I need to go to the bathroom, guys.” You rushed off, the door closed behind you, and you started crying uncontrollably.

A few seconds later, someone came in. “Hello…? Hey…” JJ was fully aware of what was happening to you. She had been watching for a while—she had gone through the same thing. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“I screwed up, JJ…”

“Well… It’s not exactly that, right?”

“How could I not use…? Damn it, I should’ve known better. I forget to take the pill sometimes. I’m so scatterbrained, and with the time changes, the trips… What do I do?!”

“Hm, I think you two need to talk, honestly. You love each other, don’t you? It’ll be okay.” JJ seemed so calm, and it was actually helping you, but all you wanted to do was scream.

The rest of the day, you were a bit distant with everyone, even with Spencer, who seemed worried about you. He tried to take care of you without overwhelming you too much, always attentive to your needs. He always did that, but now he wanted to make sure you felt better; leaving water on your desk, lollipops you liked next to your monitor, hand cream… At the end of the day, he approached you.

"Hey, um, would you… do you want to come over to my place today?" You could see his concerned, almost pleading expression.

That automatically brought a small smile to your face. "Of course, I want to. Let’s go."

When you arrived, you were determined to talk to him, no matter how hard it might be.

"Um, Spence, can we talk? I need to tell you something." Your face was full of complete and utter distress.

Spencer let out a deep sigh, took your hand, and gently led you to the couch, inviting you to sit beside him. His attitude struck you as odd, though he was always tender with you.

"Alright, uh… I have something important to tell you," you said firmly. You wanted to be direct, not knowing any other way to do it.

"I know what's going on." His face, though serious, radiated affection, empathy, and kindness.

"Oh. Uh… How do you… know?"

"If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s recognizing patterns. And for the past three months, you’ve had some pretty obvious symptoms: nausea, vomiting, aches, fatigue, gaining a bit of volume…" He squeezed your hand, and a small smile appeared on his face.

You felt like you were breaking slowly. "Why… didn’t you say anything?" Your voice sounded high-pitched, on the verge of tears.

"I was giving you space, I thought you needed it. At first, I thought you were sick, and then I realized that wasn’t it. I just wanted you to come to me when you were ready…" Your face was a mix between a pout and a smile.

"It’s just… I didn’t notice, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, I just wasn’t aware. My god, what a stupid thing… Not even with my body, my clothes don’t even fit."

"Your body is perfect, I love it, no matter what it is now or what it will be, I’ll love it always. I love you in all your forms." He lifted your hands and kissed them with his eyes closed, showing all the devotion he felt for you. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, and a huge smile spread across your face.

"Look, I haven’t actually taken a test yet, so I don’t know if I really am or not… I also don’t know if… I mean, what now? If it’s real, what are we going to do? I can’t think of anything else right now; it’s like everything is foggy—my work, the future, us…"

"Okay, okay, okay… Stop. Listen. Tomorrow we’ll go to the doctor, and this time you can’t say no. Once we know more, you can decide what you want. I want you to know that I love you and I want to share my life with you. The idea of starting a family together makes me really happy, but what matters most is that we’re okay together." Tears streamed down your cheeks, maybe because of the hormone cocktail, or the mix of happiness, love, fear, uncertainty… and he wiped them away with his fingers, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Everything is going to be okay." His words soothed your hyperactive mind. "I love you."

"I know." You said, gently holding his wrists, wanting to keep him close.

· Requests via DM ·

[merakiui]

simply business.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight nsfw, misogyny, power imbalance, workplace misconduct, abuse of authority, ceo azul, secretary jade note - you'll do anything for this job. mr. ashengrotto wonders if there are limits to your anything.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.

Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.

“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”

If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.

Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.

Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.

Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.

With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.

“I aim to surprise.”

“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”

“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”

He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.

“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”

“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.

Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.

“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”

He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”

“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”

He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”

“I see.”

You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”

Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.

“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”

“Very.”

“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”

“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”

“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”

He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.

“Aren’t you diligent?”

The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”

“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”

“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”

“Is that all?”

You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”

“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”

“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.

What was that about?

“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”

“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”

“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”

“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”

“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”

“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”

Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!

As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade drags his pen across paper.

“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”

“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”

“And if it was an individual effort?”

“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”

“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”

That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?

You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”

“Do you plan to be?”

“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”

“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”

Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”

“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”

Just what kind of test is that?

“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”

“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”

“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”

“A fine attitude to have.”

“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”

No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…

“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”

“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.

That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?

“If I may ask one final question…”

“Sure thing!”

Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”

More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.

Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.

“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”

“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”

You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”

“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”

Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”

Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.

“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”

“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”

“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”

Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.

And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.

Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”

“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”

“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”

Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.

Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.

Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.

“Will I truly get the job?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.

“On how far you’re willing to go.”

“C-Can he leave?”

Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”

“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.

You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”

“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”

Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.

“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.

It’s not worth it. I should leave.

You should, but can you?

“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”

Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.

I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.

Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.

Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.

From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.

“Will that be all?”

“Keep going.”

“Haven’t I done enough?”

“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”

You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.

“I’ve seen enough.”

“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.

You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”

“For now.”

At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.

“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”

As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.

“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.

It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.

I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.

When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.

“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”

The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”

“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”

You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Commoner!Eijiro Kirishima x Princess!Reader - So This is Love? - I

Summary: You, the princess, surprise a poor village boy with an invitation to the royal ball.

Warnings: Reverse harem, fluff, angst, quirkless!au, royal!au, love at first sight, social class difference, princess x commoner trope

The carriage came to a sudden halt, making your body rock forward in your seat. Patiently, you awaited the footman to open the door and help you out. When you were standing, you couldn't hide the eager grin on your powdered face.

"Is this the correct place, m'lady?" the footman asked, glancing around with a haughty expression. "Looks a tad...dingy."

"Nonsense," you laugh him off, stepping forward, expensive heels digging into the mud. "I'm sure this is the correct address."

Noticing the way your heels sink, he promptly offers his arm, helping you to the door of the humble cobbler's shop. Stepping into the threshold, you smile fondly, finding a short, plump woman sitting at a desk in the corner. "Afternoon!" She calls, focused on her task. "What can we do ye for?" When she finally turns to face you, her smile drops and her already fair skintone becomes all the more pale.

"Y-Your Majesty!" She bows nervously. "T-To what do we owe the pleasure?"

You smile warmly, stepping closer, bowing to her as well. "I was hoping to have a word with a man I'm told works here," you answer, presenting a letter with a red wax seal. "I've come to deliver him an invitation. Eijiro Kirishima, is he here, ma'am?"

"My son?" The woman asks, tilting her head before nodding and turning to enter another room of the shop, dipping under half curtain that served as a divider. Moment's later, a young man with bright red hair and matching eyes peers out, scanning the room curiously.

His back straightens instantly when his eyes fall on you, standing in the front room of his family's shop, clad in an elegant day gown, eyes peeking over an equally ornate handfan. "Y-Your Highness!" He gasp, eyes blown wide as he stands up straight, akwardly hitting his head on the doorframe.

With a hiss a rub to the crown of his head, he steps out, kneeling in front of you. "W-What are you doing down in the village?" He asks, clearly flustered.

You simply giggle behind your fan, extending a hand down to him to kiss. His Adam's Apple bobs when his eyes fall on your perfectly manicured nails and blushed knuckles. Hestitantly, his calloused hands cradle yours, which has never known labor. With a sharp exhale, he brings your hand up to his lips, eyes flickering to yours as he plants a ghostly kiss on your knuckles. His gentle nature puts a glow in your cheeks as you giggle at his bashfulness.

"I can to visit you, good sir," you finally reveal, a sweet mystique in your tone.

"M-Me?" he repeats in disbeleif. "F-For what reason?"

You offer him the envelope, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you. "I would like to cordially invite you to the royal ball this evening," you explain, collapsing your fan and resting it against your chest, batting your lashes at him. "As my personal guest."

"I-I'm speechless, You Highness..." He pauses, deicately opening the letter and reading over the cursive words within. "W-Why me?"

"Say you'll attend," you insists with a warm smile.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," he mutters timidly, folding the letter very carefully back into the envelope. "I have nothing but the clothes on my back, I haven't the proper dress to attend a royal gathering."

"I worried as much." You admitted sadly before smiling again. "Which is why I took the liberty of having the royal seamstress tailor a custom suit for the occassion."

"J-Just for me...?" Kirishima gasp, eyes glossy at your gesture. You nod, confirming his assumptions.

"Please accompany me, it would mean the world to me..." you beg one last time, leaning in slightly.

"I-I'd be honored, Your Majesty..." He finally relents, still in disbelief before a childish grin cracks across his face. "Yes, of course I'll go!"

"Oh, that's fantastic news!" you exclaim with delight, reaching out and capturing his hands, holding them to his hands. "I'm overjoyed." You beam, letting him go, preparing to take your leave. "A carriage will send for you an hour before sunset, no need to make ready ahead of time. You'll have a warm bath and a private room awaiting you at the castle."

Kirishima once again finds himself silenced by your generousity, only uttering a small: "T-Thanky you, Princess..." as he watches you leave the shop, waving with fan in hand.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

it flows and it flows and it flows

cw. selfship-coded, f!reader (no specified anatomy), pre-canon, pre-relationship, childhood friend au, reader eats a defined devil fruit, love as sacrifice, denial of feelings + mutual pining, vulture culture mention

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

synopsis. as a hydrophiliac, eating a devil fruit is a horrifying thought. as a pirate, eating a devil fruit is an incredibly dumb decision. you'll gladly embrace the horrors and stupidity to keep your loved ones safe.

notes. the way i planned on writing something else for my next childhood friend au installment but this decided it would be making a cameo first whoops. cover comes from monet's impression, sunrise (1872) it just reminds me of ace.

For its moniker of Faerie Faerie Fruit, it isn’t pretty to look at.

The name itself invokes the imagery of translucent wings, tinkling laughter and pixie dust at your fingertips. The fruit in your hands invokes anything but the aforementioned. No, this fruit seems more akin to invoking something out of your nightmares with its gray and pruny peel. All the more damning is the way the face of the fruit is caved in, like a woman in mourning.

According to the encyclopedia you’d skimmed through, once upon a time, this isn’t even the ugliest the Faerie Faerie Fruit can achieve. That has been allocated to the sickly green Goblin model. Knowing this does nothing to quell how unsettling the fruit in your hands is to look at. A fitting feeling for Model Banshee, the variant of the Faerie Faerie Fruit that had fallen in your hands on this most recent adventure across the Moss Isles.

“You should eat it!” Wallace insisted at dinner with a sharp-toothed grin, holding his keg of beer in your direction. “Then the Spades'll finally have a power holder besides the captain!”

Ace squinted at the good-natured fishman with an offended pout, leaning over as best as he could with Kotatsu on his lap. “So I’m not good enough now, Wallace?” The gray lynx mewed, disgruntled at the movement and Ace settled down. “It’s nice to know how you really feel!” In spite of his words, Ace’s lips were curled into a smile as he snickered. He blended perfectly against the Grand Line’s reddening sky, carmine and vermillion painted against the clouds.

“Won’t it be confusing to have two banshees on the ship though,” you asked with a half-smile in return, nodding in the direction of the strawberry blonde. At the mention of her name, the woman grinned at you impishly.

“Maybe you should sell it to me then,” the ginger nodded in satisfaction at the thought. “Then I really would be a banshee!”

“You want it?” You leaned over with intrigued.

As quickly as she brought it up, Banshee shot it down, “no offense to Ace, but if I’m gonna be a pirate,” she gestured beyond the borders of the Spadille, to the sea itself. “I want the security of knowing I won’t drown if I fall into the ocean.” A chorus of laughter followed as Ace whined that his eating the Flame Flame Fruit had only been an accident. A very unforeseen accident.

In one exchange, you were brought back to square one.

You sigh, unable to help a few chuckles. It’s only luck your time on Sixis Island didn’t result in you losing your ability to swim then when you unknowingly bit into the Flame Flame Fruit. Being the first to bite into it, only Ace received any abilities from it. As much as he hadn’t been prepared to eat the thing, however, you can admit it is an ability that suits him.

Ace is like a flame that draws in anyone lucky enough to notice its glow. You want more and more people to see it and relish the warmth of your friend as much as you do.

That doesn’t mean you want to necessarily join him in the ranks of being cursed to drown should you fall into a body of water. Eat, sell or toss it back into the depths for someone else to discover. Those are the only options for a person who finds a devil fruit.

“You shouldn’t eat it anyway,” Ace told you softly when the conversation moved on to a different topic. “You love swimming.”

You love water as easily as you breathe. It has been one of your best friends since your childhood on Dawn Island.

You remember jumping into crocodile infested rivers.

You can hear Luffy’s sniffles as he clung to you desperately. How Sabo sighed, “Can’t you become one with the water in a way that doesn’t look like you drowned?” How Ace, whose face donned more scowls than smiles at 10, rasped a fist against your head in agreement and ranting all the while.

You recall the cool of the returning tide as you looked for seashells on the beach. Then you’d take each one back to Dadan’s, resting them beside your growing collection of unconventional treasures of mummified paws, empty turtle shells and dissected owl pellets. Seashells and stones were the bones of the sea and earth respectively, your grandfather had told you once, so they belonged with your treasure trove as much as any of your other finds.

I wonder if Dadan’s tossed all that out by now, you wonder vaguely. Well if she does, I hope she doesn’t touch my eggs. Protect ‘em for me, Luffy. You remember the beaming haul of large anaconda eggs you’d painted over after Dadan cracked them open for breakfast. There had been four for each of you.

A yellow egg for Luffy, a red egg for Ace and blue for Sabo before you finally painted one over in your own favorite color. You think Sabo’s egg is the collective favorite of the members of your quartet that remain.

It’s only been 7 months or so since you left your life on Dawn Island but it feels like it has been years. Yet throughout it all, the ocean had been a steady companion.

You love it as an extension of your very being.

And yet…

Sloppily drawn eggs and raucous laughter filling the air when you should have been sleeping flood your mind. Your eyes rest on the creepy fruit resting in your hand once again. You don’t necessarily desire joining Ace and Luffy in the ranks of incurring the disdain of the sea, truly. But-

“Flameo, Hotman,” you say suddenly at the approaching heat and footsteps that announce Ace’s presence before his words can.

Ace grins as he rests his arms on the edge of the Spadille, “how’d you know it was me,” he asks unnecessarily, sea breeze running its invisible fingers through his wavy locks. Your eyes crinkle from how you smile at the sight. 

You nudge him carefully, fingers tightening slightly over the fruit in your hands, “I felt the furnace getting closer and closer.”

Ace snorts, signature grin on his face. It should feel stranger, seeing him smile so much when he tended to frown and furrow his brow constantly when you were children, but it doesn’t. Smiles suit Ace more than any other expression you’ve seen him have in the past. “What are you over here thinking about?” His eyes dart to the fruit in your hands. “Are you gonna throw it back?”

“It certainly crossed my mind,” you admit with a shrug. Maybe if you hadn’t stopped to think about the past, you would have. The fact you hesitated is more than enough of a sign that your heart hadn’t been into the idea. “I changed my mind, though.”

“What does it do anyway?” Ace poked the wrinkly face with a curious finger.

“Banshees are supposed to be some kind of faerie of death,” you think back to your base information you know about the beings the fruit derives its name. “When someone is gonna die soon, they scream and keen to let people know. But that’s about all that’s really known about ‘em. When you think about it, it kinda suits me, huh?” He hums thoughtfully, looking at the thing deeply and you continue on. “Remember when you gave me my first turtle shell?”

The freckled man’s face softens with a nostalgic smile, “Dadan said boys are supposed to give girls flowers not corpses.” You can hear the cranky woman’s voice even now, exasperated at how you excitedly twirled with the item in your hand. She never quite understood your interest in vulture culture but beside the odd complaint, she never discouraged it.

“I thought it was pretty cool,” you snicker in return. “But you probably should default to flowers whenever you find someone you like. I don’t know if they’d be as appreciative as me.” Whoever that person is, they’ll be lucky. You disregard the strange itch in your chest and thoughts of sky blue hair as Ace rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He may think the idea of someone loving him is ludicrous but he’s an idiot when it comes to such notions.

Portgas D. Ace is special and deserves to be loved in a special way. He will be, someday.

With a sigh, you turn so your back is facing the edge of the ship rather than your front. “Anyways,” you divert the topic back to the former. “I have to admit that it’s pretty useful, objectively thinking. There’s a lot of people out there who wanna avoid death like the plague.” Your heart clenches uncomfortably once more, albeit for a reason you can discern.

Ace nods at your words, “it’ll definitely go for a lot when we get to the next island. So try not to accidentally drop it now that you’ve decided you won’t be doing it intentionally.”

“Oh shut up,” you snort but not unkindly.

But he’s right, this would probably go for a shit ton, not that you know how many berries most devil fruit go for on the market. A devil fruit that grants its user the ability to sense death, however, certainly is above the average.

A smile missing a tooth comes to mind and you have to stop yourself from squeezing additional indents into the Faerie Faerie Fruit. The rough hands of your grandfather covering your own as he shows you how hook a worm follows.

Sabo and Grandpa are gone, there’s no bringing them back.

There are people you love who are still here though, your thumb brushes against the face of the fruit. Indented in anguish as it silently screams for the imminent loss of life. You glance at Ace who is content to stare out at the waves carrying the crew to its next destination. You feel yourself smiling again before you can stop yourself, wistful.

You love the water, it’s as easy as breathing. It’s been your best friend for as long as you could remember.

You remember listening with giddy awe to your grandfather recounting how taking you out the bath as a baby was nigh impossible unless the tub was empty first.

You can hear Makino’s panic as you groggily wake up, realizing you fell asleep in the midst of your floating. Your head hung sheepishly as she scolded you, voice uncharacteristically sharp about the dangers of falling asleep in the ocean. “Heaven forbid the sea king was around!”

You recall the shared panic of Luffy falling underneath a lake’s surface, you, Ace and Sabo diving after him in unison.

If you could become the ocean itself, you’d gladly do so and let your limbs dissolve into it and feel the pulse of every living creature residing within.

Another sigh slips from your lips as you look over your shoulder at the sunset-stained gem the Piece of Spadille sails across. I’m really going to miss being in it. You don’t necessarily want the curse eating a devil fruit will bring, but even if you can’t swim in it anymore you will find ways to still enjoy it.

With solidified determination, you bite into the ominous fruit resting in your hands without a second thought.

At your movement, Ace looks in your direction.

His eyes go from inquisitive to as wide as dinner plates in the span of seconds, calling out your name in frantic surprise. “What are you doing?!” Large, freckled hands reach for you and you side step him immediately before breaking into a run. “Spit it out!”

God this tastes awful, you nearly gag but you force yourself to swallow the piece anyway. Hearing heavy boots chasing after you, you bite into the wrinkled fruit once more. Just in case the first bite doesn’t take.

“Um, [First]?” You barely hear Deuce’s confused reaction. “Ace?”

“Can you stop Ace for me? Thanks!” You call back to the masked man.

“Stop her from being an idiot!” Ace shouts after you.

The Masked Deuce smartly decides being neutral is his only course of action. “You guys figure it out! We’ll, uh, we’ll be over here!”

You could squeal from how close he is but you manage to bite into the foul-tasting flesh a final time before warm arms wrap around your waist, preventing further escape. You swallow instinctively.

“[First]!” You pull against how he tries to grapple your possession from your hands. Try as you might, you aren’t able to get a fourth bite in. You squeeze your eyes shut, not that it does much but it does prevent you from seeing what is undoubtedly an Ace with a frown.

“Can’t spit out anything,” you cry before Ace can start that up once again. It is far too late for the man to do anything about your consuming the Faerie Faerie Fruit. “I already bit into the shit three times!”

“But why?!” Ace asks incredulously. 

“Because it’s useful! I’m not giving this sort of ability up!” You stop wriggling, knowing it is redundant when you’ve already done what you’ve set out to do. “I just,” you open your eyes, downcast. “I don’t want to lose anyone else I care about.”

If you were to ever sense Ace or Luffy’s deaths, it will break you. At least you know in those moments, you’ll be able to do something about it. There doesn’t have to be anymore Grandpas or Sabos, not for you. Not if you can stop it. You’ll gladly eat a dozen more Faerie Faerie Fruits if it gives you any ability to keep them safe.

There’s a pause then a groan of resignation as your feet touch the deck again. I guess there’s no point in eating anymore of this, you look at what remains of the fruit. You aren’t sure exactly how it will change you in ways beyond a newly acquired death ping. You resign yourself to eating the rest regardless.

The silence isn’t entirely uncomfortable but it isn’t comfortable either, it just is. There’s nothing else that can be done about your decision.

“You can’t ever take this back, you know,” his voice is soft.

“I know,” you murmur after the last of the devil fruit has been eaten. “I don’t need the ocean like that anyway.” You will find new ways to enjoy it. Finally you turn to look at the man who has been your closest friend since you were 10. You were practically family. Family, that’s right. Family looks out for each other. You are going to look out for Portgas D. Ace whether he likes it or not, you promised yourself this after you met Old Man Naguri.

Even as Ace looks at you with equal parts acceptance and sorrow on your behalf, you think the sacrifice is worth it. It’s bitter but the sweet in your chest outweighs it.

“That’s one more thing we have in common,” you try to lighten the mood. “Paramecia and Logia differences aside.”

Ace sighs but he gives you a snicker of courtesy, “I would have been fine with us not having this in common.”

“Eeeh, you’ll get over it.” I’ll get over it, you chuckle, turning back to face the horizon. The sun’s almost been swallowed entirely by the sea and there are more things dotting the sky than you remember there being a few minutes ago. Your eyes widen at the ghastly image of whales swimming through the skies as if unaware their time has passed many moons ago.

Whales, stingrays, sharks and unidentifiable fish as far as you can see.

A silent procession across the Grand Line only for your newly acquired eyes. It almost makes you want to cry.

“Is everything alright,” Ace draws you back in, eyebrows knit in concern.

You wonder if Grandpa and Sabo’s ghosts are gallivanting about Dawn Island.

“Yeah.”

[formosusiniquis]

I'm in chainmail, baby I'm impressed

Squeaking in under the wire for @stevieweek day 4: Special Outfit with bonus prompts: lingerie and DnD/Fantasy. Plus I'm counting this as my @steddie-week Day Seven Free Space

Stevie Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 3217 | M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: Transfem!Steve Harrington; Transmasc!Eddie Munson; Fade to Black

AO3

It starts with a blouse.

No, that’s not right. It actually started when Stevie asked how earring a suit of armor didn’t chafe, and if a pair of keys could stab through a beer can how were arrows not sending stabby metal pieces into people.

Which actually probably means it really started with layers. Like the extra layer of leather, done up to Eddie’s chin when he called her back. “Make ‘em pay” wasn’t the send off she’d expected after the big boy and other flirting. Flirting that had made her stomach twist and her heart flutter and her brain flinch with the close but not quite of it. But maybe that’s why she’d sent her own return volley. Why she’d grabbed hold of that half done zipper and left Eddie with a pat to the chest and a promise to do just that.

She totally saved his life with that move. Her, the leather jacket, and some extra breast tissue Eddie wasn’t really using, all working together to keep razor sharp fangs from tearing flesh and puncturing any important organs.

That breast tissue maybe saved her too, when she learned just what having it made Eddie and what it meant about options she hadn’t known were there. They had a lot of time to talk in their shared bat bite isolation chamber.

Talk about layers that go under chain and metal to protect knights of the realm and their devoted squires that help them.

That started in the Upside Down, finished in the hospital. And this started in the thrift store.

The blouse was white. Pure white, basically neon, white as the virgin snow. Totally not Stevie’s color, the fresh wedding white brings out the undertones in her skin in a way that leaves her looking sallow and liver failure-y. But something about the sleeve catches her eye. The way  it balloons before gathering at the wrist. 

It’s a 70’s throwback for sure. Reminds her of the cover from the album Eddie brought over a few weeks ago, Little Queen. Robin has her face screwed up before Stevie even has it all the way off the rack. Hating it but trying to be supportive the way she has been throughout all of Stevie’s transition from Steve to who she is now.

“That is… wow!”

“It’s super ugly, and not even in a cool way.”

Robin slumps against the rack, sending a hanger cascading to the floor. She scrambles down to pick it up but Stevie doesn't miss her, “Oh thank god.”

“The best thing to happen to you was my sense of style not changing.”

“I know. You’d look good in anything, but my wardrobe offerings would have shrunk.” Seeming to remember the source of the freak out. She snaggs the shirt. “So what’s with this thing? I think even you’d struggle to make this look good.”

She takes it back from Robin’s disapproving grip. Holds it up to herself just to see the way Robin’s face contorts. The neckline is going to do nothing for her, not low cut enough to show off the way her boobs are coming in. The poof in the arms will accent her shoulders . And it’s so, so white.

“It made me think of Eddie,” she says, fingering the loose tie that’s hanging down the front of the blouse.

“It is very vampire lord,” Robin admits. “Might even make him look tan.”

Layers, knights would wear padded shirts under their armor and under those drapey shirts in cotton and linen. He’d been excited when he’d talked about it. Passionate. The way he got when he talked about Lord of the Rings or DnD. She holds the shirt even tighter against her, turns this way and that even though she can only kind of make out her reflection in the mirror at the end of the row. It’s an ugly shirt. But it makes her think of knights and Éowyn and paladins and Eddie.

Eddie flushed pink and beautiful, squirming in his seat in a different way than he usually does, talking about devotion and pledges. Duty and honor.

“I’m gonna buy it.”

“For Eddie?” Robin asks on a sigh. She already knows the answer.

“He’ll certainly get to enjoy it.”

The problem with being the one to come up with a plan is she has to be the one to follow through with it. 

Part of her knows the blouse would be enough. She could dress it up just right, flirt a little, and have Eddie eating out of the palm of her hand.

But the part of her that had a flair for the dramatic that rivaled her boyfriend’s wasn’t going to let her skimp unless she took every possible step to fully achieve her vision.

So she goes to the only person she knows who might be able to put the final and most crucial piece of the scene together.

Flopped across the Henderson couch, she’s making herself comfortable for her and Caludia’s date with Dallas. She’s too cozy to get up, decides it's easier to flop her head over the arm of the sofa to shout at Dustin while he rummages through the kitchen.

“So if I was trying to get my hands on some of that chain link armor stuff, would you know a drama club nerd who might have some?”

“Yeah, I have some.”

“You have some?” she can feel her eyebrows raised up into the middle of her forehead. She went to him for a reason, but surely she would have known if he was capable of affording something like that. Was that why she was footing the bill at the arcade every week, so he could have suit of armor money?

“Well it's not like it grew in the backyard, I made some.”

“Made some?” she flips around on the couch, this has become the kind of conversation she has to look at her brother and have him be rightside up.

He’s got his hand on his hip which isn't as commanding when he’s also holding a glass of milk in the other. It’s cute though, like he’s trying to channel her.

“What are you an echo? It's not like it was hard. You need some wire and pliers and patience.”

“And you?”

“Har har. Yes. Do you want to borrow it or not.” The threat is there even if she doesn’t think it’s that sincere. It’s fucking armor she doubts he could hide it that well if she wanted to just come in and take it.

But she makes nice anyway cause she’s a good sister. “Yes! Sorry.”

“Ma's got all that jewelry making stuff and you know I like to work with my hands when I'm talking with Suzie.”

“Disgusting.”

It was a joke. But it’s a joke that sends his drink sloshing over the sides of his glass as he startles. A good friend, even if she doubts he’ll ever acknowledge it, she stifles her laugh in the palm of her hand as he turns a shade of red that is medically concerning. 

“Ew, don't be crass, Stevie,” he stutters out.

“Is this even going to fit me,” she takes pity on him, dragging the topic back to her, “you made it for yourself half-pint.” The insult barely works, a summer growth spurt has left sophomore Dustin towering over her shoulder. Well, not towering, but he can see over her shoulder now.

“I made it for Mike, actually, so he could be his paladin at that convention in September. But he wouldn't let me measure him cause I ‘know what he looks like’ and it came out too big.”

“Oh so it'll be perfect for me.” She tries to make it a joke, but hearing that it was made for human stringbean Michael Wheeler has her nervous in the place where all of her ugliest body issues live. At least if Dustin had made it for himself it would have just looked like a crop top.

“Well, it still might not fit because of your,” he gestures vaguely at her front.

“Boobs, Henderson, they're boobs. You can call them-”

“Alright!” He shrieks, “I was trying to be respectful.”

“When have you ever been respectful? And don't say it's because I'm a girl, I'll push you into Lover’s Lake.”

“I wouldn't talk about El’s or Max’s is all I'm saying.” He says into the glass in his hand.

“But I can borrow it?”

“If it fits over your boobs,” he says the word like it's in a foreign language he's neither spoken nor heard, “you can keep it. I know it's for some weird sex thing with Eddie and I don't want it in my closet knowing what it's seen.”

Honestly it's for the best, because if this goes the way she thinks it's going to she really doesn't want to have to figure out how to get stains out of aluminum. But it's hard to resist the siren song of torturing Dustin. “I can't believe you're calling my sex life weird, are you saying there's something wrong with us? That we aren't a normal couple like everyone else? I thought you were a friend.”

“Nothing about Eddie is normal and he'd be offended you tried to suggest he was so I'd feel bad.”

“Yeah, good point loser.” She snuggles back down into the couch, she never really gives the episodes of Beauty and the Beast that much attention but this one should be wrapping up soon. “If it doesn't fit over my tits and it sees zero action do you want it back then?”

“After this conversation, I'm not sure I ever want to see you again. So just keep it. I'm sure Eddie will find some kind of use for it.”

There’s another quip at the tip of her tongue that she knows will send Dustin into fits, whether they would have been of rage or denial she’ll never know. The front door is slamming open bringing with it Claudia at the end of her swing shift.

“Stevie, dear,” she always bustles into the house like she’s carrying an armload of groceries even when it’s just her coming home in her uniform, “never go into nursing. Doctors are some of the dumbest fuckers on the face of the planet.”

It occurs to her, the attitude might be a family trait. Maybe that’s why they adopted her so easily. If only she could pull off the tiny hat the way Claudia can.

All of the pieces of her plan stay hidden for weeks. Folded up carefully in an oversized hatbox in the back of her Mom’s extended closet. The hat, a monstrosity purchased for a Derby she doesn’t think they’d even gone to left to gather dust or whatever it is hatboxes are meant to prevent.

The chainmail had fit. The weight of it as surprising as the cool feeling of it against her fingers.

She has the clothes, the accessories, even bought something silky and golden yellow to go underneath. Like the armor wasn’t going to be sexy enough for Eddie. Lingerie under lingerie like a hat on a hat, but she has to feel sexy or else she’s going to feel like a complete idiot.

She kind of already feels like an idiot. Something in the knowing that the top and the chain and the yellow bra with the flowers embroidered on it are all upstairs makes her anxious in a way she hasn’t ever been with Eddie before.

Hands haven’t been wandering during their movie nights. She keeps her feet kicked back behind her, crossed at the ankle, when they’re sharing a booth at dinner. There’s always a fifteen-going-on-sixteen year old chaperone in the car with them, sometimes even in the front seat as she pretends she’s just making sure they’re getting pre-prepared for their upcoming drivers tests.

And sitting next to him on the sofa, a whole cushion between them for the first time since ever, she watches the careful way he makes each line as he sketches and cross hatches what she can just make out to be a flowing haired knight. Her resolve breaks.

Stevie craves him the way she used to want ice cream on a hot day. The taste and feel of it an almost physical feeling, she would want it so bad. That’s what horny feels like now, she’s slowly realizing.

Before she can overthink it too much more, “I wanna try something.”

Normally she thinks of Eddie as having a kind of feline grace, he slinks and when he does fall off of something he isn’t supposed to be on he grins like it was always the plan to reacquaint himself violently with the floor. But the hint of suggestion in her voice has him perked up on the couch like a dog that just heard his leash come off the hook.

It's embarrassing how badly she wants him.

“What were you thinking, baby?”

He’s better at this than she is, at the lead up. The introduction. It’s a different skill to slowly introduce the concept of the strange, a change. Different than foreplay. She feels like she’s propositioning her proposition. The thing about slow, missionary in a room with the lights dimmed, no bandaids need to be ripped off before.

“You’ve roleplayed.”

“Not the kind I think you’re suggesting.” He’s impossibly more perked. Notebook and pencil still and poised like he’s about to start taking notes. “But I’ll try anything you want to do, however you want to do it.”

Maybe it isn't healthy, but she likes that about Eddie. That he’s all in on her, obsessed maybe. Willing to push himself out of his comfort zone for the sake of letting her have what she wants or try what she thinks she wants.

She likes how a few right words will turn him into putty she can squish and meld between her fingers.

“I’m gonna go get changed.”

Now that Eddie is waiting downstairs for something spectacular, it isn't so hard to pull that box down from its hideaway and slide each layer on. She already knew it wasn’t that hard to get the chain on and off by herself, she had tried it on. Maybe squires were for the heavy metal suits like on Scooby-doo. Or maybe it was about the intimacy and the ritual even back then, sliding on pieces and parts meant to keep the other person safe from harm knowing later if there was a chance to undress again you could see just how you helped save them.

Next time, she thinks, they should do this the other way around. She can get Eddie off a couple times, clean him up, and slowly dress him in each new layer. Until he’s lying in her bed armored in metal and cocooned by her cotton sheets. Safe from anything the world might want to do to him. Under her panties, and the sports leggings she’d decided where the sexier choice of pants, she can start to see the evidence of her arousal in the full length mirror.

It’s a good thing Dustin doesn’t want his stuff back.

Her finishing touches go on next. The gold ring with the small green stone that Robin had given her slides on to her index finger. Then around her neck her holy symbol, the guitar pick from Eddie’s first post-almost dying show. Tossed at her from the stage in an act of Bon Jovi badassery. She had gently poked a hole through it and now she slides it on its dainty, gold chain around her neck.

She tugs at her hair in the mirror, the one part that isn’t quite right. In her vision it’s finally grown out, beautiful waves that would fall out of the ugly helmet she doesn’t have when she pulled it off. Waves like Brooke Shields or the girl from One Day at a Time who married the guy from the band Eddie liked have instead of the bob she’s growing out now.

But it would grow and in the meantime she looked hot.

Stevie looked really hot. Swallowing around the saliva pooling in her mouth, she remembers she has a boyfriend to show that to.

Her first reward is the sight of Eddie's jaw dropped against the floor.

“You remember the other day, you were talking about how paladins could get leveled up so high they basically became gods too?”

Stevie knew that wasn't right, but she liked watching the nerd part of him war with the boyfriend part of him. One itching to correct the mistake and the other looking for a way for her to be correct in a roundabout way. Usually, it leaves him flushed and wide eyed, like his brain is overtaxed and with just a little more stress steam will start to burst from his ears to keep his brain from melting. Last week she had him arguing with the Party that humanoid didn't mean hobbits couldn't also be little rabbits.

She decides to take pity on him now, his wheels skidding blankly on wet road.

“I want you to worship me.”

He's agreeing, she thinks, before he's even sure what he's agreeing to. Dropping to his knees in front of her just like the worshiper she imagined: awe struck and devoted. Her divine intervention on his unfinished prayer kept him alive. Eddie Munson would let her kill him if she wanted to, if it suited her whims.

Good thing she wants to keep him for forever.

His hands slide up the back of her legs. She can feel the hot trail of them from the calf up to the thigh.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Presses a kiss to her knee, her thigh, the chain that covers her hip. “My hero, my knight.”

In the end, she didn’t need the blouse or the bra and panty set. She still has her chainmail on when she eases them both down onto the couch. Running her fingers through Eddie’s hair from his sweat damp temples to the tangling ends she’s careful to keep it from getting wrapped in the links while he rests on top of her.

“I don’t know where you came up with that, my lady, but I think that was the hottest thing to ever happen to me.”

She tugs at the end of his hair just to watch the way the lingering arousal dances across his face. “I got that from the way you creamed your jeans while you were playing with my clit.”

“I am but a man, my golden sun. When a paladin of Apollo is before me what can I do but show my utter devotion.”

“You liked it? It was good for you?”

Maybe it’s a testament to how good it was that Eddie isn’t immediately off the couch. He only shifts enough to rest his chin on her stomach. Looking her in the eyes or maybe at the bottom swell of her breasts.

“Steph, that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re a vision in everything you put on,” he assures, “but where did you even get this?”

“That’s the bad news, if you’re hoping for a better fitting part two I think I’m gonna have to give Dustin my measurements.”

[fandomwritingbit]

👻Hallowe'en Special👻

Ghosting.

Michael Afton x fem!reader.

Synop: After being abandoned by a friend at a stellar Halloween party, reader hooks up with someone in a Ghostface costume... turns out to be Michael Afton. This is a very distant sequel to Hateful with both Mike and reader being arseholes with an enemies to lovers thing going on.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, horniness, smut, public sex.

You’ve been looking forward to tonight for months. A friend of a friend spread the word about their ‘killer halloween party’ almost as soon as August rolled around and rumours of fancy dress, live music and drinking games followed suit. It sounded like just what you needed to perk you up after weeks of studying. 

And now, looking at your costume laid on your bed, you can’t help but grin, it’s cheesy and a little old-fashioned, but hey, if it ain’t broke…

You’ve spent much too long getting it just right, using several sharpies, glitter and lipstick to perfect the face on your blanket, huge eyelashes on top of your eye cut-outs and big pouting lips. A fucking perfect, tarted-up blanket ghost. You complete the set-up with a pair of fishnets and chunky heels, unable to hold in your giggles when you check out the outfit in your mirror.  

“Oh my god, you look crazy.” Your friend Gemma laughs, looking at herself in the reflection next to you, her playboy bunny costume a much more basic choice than yours. One could argue a more sensible one too, because you'd had to layer up so all your secrets couldn't be exposed by one big gust of wind.

“Yeah, crazy hot.” You put your hands on your hips and pose, both of you tittering like schoolgirls. It is funny, but you’re aware that the pre-drinks you’ve had are probably making it seem funnier than it is. 

Your friend grabs a jacket and slings it over her shoulders, gesturing with her head that it’s time to go. “Can you even see anything?” She asks as you join her outside, looking at you sceptically as you turn around to lock your apartment door, missing the keyhole on the first try. 

If she could see your face, your eye rolling would be very evident. “Yeah. I know what I’m doing.” You bring your hands to the lips of the blanket, “I even cut a hole so I can stick a straw through.” Showing her by sticking your tongue through the gap, though quickly cringing at the feeling and taste of the fabric. 

“Oooh, she’s prepared.” Gemma says sarcastically, before putting a hand on your shoulder and all but forcing you to get a move on, you don’t want to be more than fashionably late after all. 

~

One giggly taxi ride later, you and her are struggling to get out of the car without flashing anyone. And then, you're heading up the front steps to the house, where the party is already in the swing of things. A werewolf sits next to an inflatable flamingo on the steps, one smoking, the other vaping, you’re admiring their costumes when you realise the wolf is a lad from your tutor, so you stop to tell him how amazing he looks. 

“Come on, y/n.” Your friend again takes your arm, her voice faux-whining. “We haven’t even got drinks yet, you can mingle in a second.” 

You let her guide you, though not without a sharp glare, quickly turning to the wolf before you go, “See you later, Joe!” 

As you step away, she grins at you, almost knocking over a witch’s drink sitting beside her on the top step. “Really gushing over Hoe-seph, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows, her tone a little condescending. 

You can’t help but laugh, “Shut up, you knob.” you nudge her, making her wobble on her huge heels. “You’ve got to admit he looks great.” 

She scoffs in response. “Sure, he does. But it’s fucking Joe! We can do better tonight.” 

…

So much for that, you think to yourself as you sip probably the cheapest lager you’ve ever tried through a curly straw. Not even an hour after you and her had arrived, she’d found a group of people she knew from law studies and buggered off with them. Right now, you can see her bunny ears peeking over the crowd and swaying slightly to the music. 

You probably should have anticipated being on your lonesome. 

Though that doesn’t make it any less shit.

“You alright, y/n? You here all on your own?” Someone you recognise talks loudly over the music, pulling you out of your silent thought. 

You sigh, though they probably can’t hear the extent of it. “Yeah… Gemma pulled her signature move and left me in the dust.” You try to explain, having to repeat the words twice before they understand. When they do, their expression shifts in pity and they put a hand on your shoulder.

“Awww, come drink with us then, screw her.” You pull a face as you consider, before nodding and following them over to the kitchen where they and six others stand around an island drinking. It’s much brighter in there with the big lights on and you blink after being so used to the muted multi-colour lights of the living room. 

Your new buddy catches your reaction. “Hey, don’t let the light sober you up. What are you drinking?” They ask, and man, you really need to buck up and ask their name. 

“Uhh… whatever this is.” You twist the bottle around so they can see the label and their expression instantly reveals disapproval. Which you completely understand.

“You want another one of them?” A bloke standing next to the fridge pipes up, who you'll come to learn is called Ash.

“...Not really.” You admit and they laugh. 

“Vod and coke?” Your saviour prompts with a huge bottle of smirnoff in their hand and you beam under your costume. 

“Now we’re talking.” 

~

As enjoyable as the change in drink was, it didn’t take much for it to take effect and pretty soon you’re hanging off the arm of someone you've just formed a strong drunken friendship with, and singing along to someone’s halloween playlist. 

The drunkenness itself wasn’t so bad, everyone else was too and surprisingly this group was an excellent match of personalities. The main problem was that drink makes you horny. Like seriously horny. Horny enough to scan these people for a viable and interested partner. But you swiftly realise the seven of you are made up of two couples, someone that doesn't date girls and that Ash guy.

You struggle to think of who around could be your hook up. Yes, you could go find your werewolf friend, or his flamingo buddy, but that doesn’t feel too appealing. 

“I’m gonna go outside… I want to smoke.” You try not to slur your words, and pat the arm of the person that led you to this drunken safe haven as you walk, or rather stumble, past. The struggle is real, especially in these heels, but you manage it. Squeezing through masses of guests and trying not to get decked by tipsy people dancing, some of them shouted sorrys at you, others stared after your form like you were in the wrong. 

The cool night air was pleasant and you soak it all in as you check faces around. You recognise lots of people even through costumes but you know them too well for a quick drunken hook up, and there's no need to make your social circles awkward. But, god, you’re thirsting. 

Moving down the steps and being really careful not to slip, you pull a packet of cigarettes out from under your blanket, the box warm from being pressed against your skin for so long. Then you go down the side of the house, flinching when a motion-sensor light kicks into life and illuminates the path in a dingy yellow light. It’s like the party doesn’t exist back here, the noise completely dying when you turn the corner into the back garden. 

And that’s when you see him. Some guy in a full Ghostface get-up, one glove pulled up to let him scroll through his Instagram feed. You can’t help but grin under your covering, you have a special place in your heart for Ghostface, the movie one of your favourites for many reasons. Not all of them wholesome.

Placing the cigarette through the slit in your costume, you light up. Taking yourself over to slasher and standing beside him. 

“Uhh hey…” He turns to you tilting his head, no doubt trying to figure out who you were under your mask and failing. “That costume is-”

You smirk as you cut him off, “Amazing? I know. Proving to be a little inconvenient though.”

“Yeah I’ll bet. Do I know you?” You make a humming noise, trying to decide if you want to know who he is. There’s something really hot about the anonymity of it, hell you can play with the idea of a Matthew Lillard or Skeet Ulrich under there. And just the thought of that spurs you on immensely. 

“I’m not sure. But there’s fun in that.” The guy nods, but you can imagine a look of confusion under that sexy mask. You’re not usually this bold, but liquid courage and boredom can make anyone risqué. 

The two of you fall silent for a moment, before you break it teasingly, “Well, aren’t you going to ask me?” 

Ghostface scoffs in hesitation before he bites the lure. “Ask you what?”

You dramatically place a hand on your chest as you pretend to gasp. “... The Question. From the movie, you know, the one Ghostface is famous for?” 

“Ohh.” he laughs as he catches on. A hand digging in his robe for a small black device that looks like a radio. He holds it up to the mask and does as you ask, “... What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice changer is scarily movie accurate, that iconic voice that is the perfect mixture of terrifying and ridiculously hot. 

You gasp for real this time, losing yourself in giggles, “That is awesome, holy shit.” You move a little closer, deciding that yeah, you want to test the waters with this fella. “Scream…” You answer, “Because I think Ghostface is really hot.” 

The flirtation in your tone isn’t hard to miss and although he’s surprised you just walked up to him and staked a claim, he certainly isn’t complaining. “Yeah?” 

You nod, alcohol making you brave enough to lay all your cards on the table. You lift up the hem of your blanket slowly to show him how good your upper thighs look in these fishnets. “You interested?” 

 He laughs, “Hell yeah.”

~

Right there against the back of the house you pull the sheet up over your hips and your little shorts down, grinning in excitement as you watch him pull his gloves off and set about doing the same. He tries to help you take the fishnets down, but at this point you just hook your fingers into the holes and rip them enough to allow him access to your slick seam. “Fuck.” he breaths when his fingers come into contact with your wetness. How the hell has he gotten this lucky tonight?  

The vodka in your veins doesn’t let you feel the cold, right now there’s nothing you want more than a good fuck and you hope that whoever is gripping your hips right now can do that for you. And judging by how quickly he finds your clit and begins to slowly rub circles, he absolutely can.

It’s clumsy, but exactly what you want and pretty soon you’re arching your back and pulling at the waistband of his boxers. You free his cock and he’s delightfully big and thick in your hands, so much so that you have to commend yourself, you really picked a good one here. Your hurried grabbing of his dick pushes him to press into you, hands cupping under your behind and lifting you to his perfect angle. It’s unexpected and you grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, leaving him to slide his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick, before pressing firmly inside you. 

“Shit-” You hiss instantly, a buzz in your core becoming apparent at the gorgeous feeling of him filling you up. You move your hips against him as much as you can, spurring him on to a rough pace of fucking in and out of you. Neither of you consider that you’re completely exposed, lewdly hooking up outside next to someone’s house, anyone could come round the back and catch the two of you but that’s the furthest thing from your mind. 

His grunts match the pace that’s quickly bringing both of you to your ends, gradually becoming whiny as he tries to make you come before finishing, but your tight walls are making that fairly difficult, as are the sweet sounds he’s pulling from you. He doesn’t realise how close you are and so the second he again starts to stroke your clit, the waves of your climax hit you hard. Your pussy sporadically tightens around him as you cum, your head tilting back against the wall and just like that he has to pull out, his release immediately hot and sticky on the top of your thighs. He thrusts into his hand as he finishes, groans dripping from his lips. 

By now you’re recovered enough to be annoyed that he’s covered your lower body in cum and you push against him to get him off of you. He obeys and leans against the wall next to you, both of you staring forward for a moment of realisation. How the Hell are you supposed to go back in there with this costume fucking sticking to you? God, you probably should have discussed logistics beforehand but hindsight is 20/20, huh? Your still tipsy brain nearly laughs at the situation but stops when the bloke next to you starts shifting in his costume, grabbing at his mask in an almost panicky way. 

He manages to pry it off and closes his eyes for a moment. The very moment he does you practically jump 30 feet in the air. A gross knowledge snapping through you so fast, you swear you touch all five bases on the grief scale. Your Ghostface was fucking Michael. Michael Pissing Afton. “Oh. Fucking Christ.” You snap out of nowhere, making Mike flinch. 

“Woah, what? What’s wrong?” Your reaction is so strong he thinks you must be in pain of something and swiftly turns towards you, hands hovering over you like you were about to hit the deck. 

You neglect to answer him, just angrily pulling the blanket up and tearing it off your form with an exasperated sigh. Only Michael Afton could make you completely sober in the span of two seconds.

He watches with wide eyes and almost winces when he reaches the same conclusion you did. “Y/n?” He laughs a little in surprise, still staring as you toss your costume on the floor and stand there in the tiniest shorts and top going. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

You scoff, “I didn’t fucking know, did I?” You say loudly, the silence following it deafening. Honest to God, how didn’t you realise sooner? You definitely should recognise him from your fling nearly a year ago- must be the alcohol, but still, if you’d have known you probably would have shopped around a bit before settling for Michael Fucking Afton.

A stupid smug smirk coats his lips, that pinch between your brows is just funny. He speaks through a chuckle, “I actually can’t believe it’s you… How’re you doing, it’s been a while?” 

The sharp gaze you fix him with just makes him laugh harder. “Yeah, that was intentional.” 

And there was that side of you that got on his last nerve, props to your attitude for being able to ruin a perfectly good shag. “Why are you pissed off? You came on to me.” He asks the questions incredulously, his tone irritating.  

“Huh, bet that’s a first.” You retort, a condescending smile increasing tenfold when he scowls.

How in the name of all that is holy did this happen?

A/n: Hope you enjoyed, stay tuned for the next one xxx

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Do It For Me

This fic will cover my Laser-Tag/Paintball Adventure square on my @jacklesversebingo card.

Summary: You really want Ben to get into the spirit of a fun Paintball adventure. What will you have to promise to get him there.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Bit of kissing, some suggestive language. Ben being a grumpy boy. Versions of Ben, Annie and Hughie that don't necessarily fit canon.

Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Word Count: 1,259

A/N: So this is my next square for my second jacklesversebingo card. The request for this one came from @spnwoman who said this:

Hi me again!! Lol or a “laser tag/paintball adventure” with soldier boy/ Ben with the reader would be really fun for them to let lose and have fun as a couple with promise as something sexy as a reward 😉

I veered a little bit away from your request; it ended up more fluffy than sexy, but I hope you still enjoy it!

The beautiful dividers were created by @firefly-graphics

“This is fucking ridiculous, Y/N. You can’t expect me to put this shit on.” Ben’s voice was sharp, but his face was pouty as you looked up from tying on your knee pad.

You couldn’t help but smile at his annoyance which made his pout turn into a glare. You shook your head. “Look, it’s just the rules of the course. Everybody has to wear the safety equipment.”

As you finished speaking, one of the elbow pads he’d attached incorrectly fell to the ground, making an angry growl erupt from his chest, and you covered your mouth as a giggle threatened to escape. The last thing you wanted to do was laugh at him. It had taken a lot of cajoling and promises on your part to get him to even come down to the paintball course. 

It was a double date that you and he were having with Annie and Hughie. You’d told him it would be so much fun, that it would be great to go out with another couple. You told him how much it would mean to you to do something couple-y with your boyfriend. But he’d resisted all arguments.

“I am an actual fucking soldier. I’m not going to some playland to pretend I’m a soldier and shoot paint at each other.” He’d scoffed. “It’s a game for children, and in case you forgot, sweetness, I’m a man.” 

He'd yanked you up against him at that point and every one of your arguments sank beneath a moan as he plundered your mouth and kissed you breathless. The discussion had been postponed while he spent the afternoon showing you just how much of a man he was. 

But the next day you’d started the campaign again. Ben had been frustrated beyond belief at your refusal to take no for an answer. Finally he’d made you a deal. He’d go play paintball with you if you did something for him, something he’d been trying to get you to do since you'd started dating. With only a brief hesitation from you, the deal was struck.

Now you were here and you had to admit that he did look a little ridiculous in the paintball gear. He was out in public so he had his super suit on, but the place where you were playing insisted that everyone had to wear their helmets, elbow and knee pads. Trying to fit the equipment over Ben’s actual soldier's uniform, complete with knee pads and elbow pads of his own, wasn’t going very well. 

“Here,” you said as you bent to pick up the elbow pad, “take yours off. You won’t need them while we’re here, right? So, just wear these ones instead. And the helmet will be great, you used to wear one all the time, I’ve seen pictures.”

Ben jammed the silly black helmet on his head, leaving the visor raised and the clasp and chin strap dangling. “Yeah, it didn’t look like this.”

You bit your lip again and reached up to secure the strap under his chin and snap it into place. “You look very adorable.”

Ben continued to glare as you finished dressing him. 

“Hey guys.” Annie spoke as she and Hughie came into the changing area. “All ready to go?”

You snapped the last buckle in place on Ben’s knee pad and nodded. “Yep! Be prepared to go down you two!” You raised a finger and looked at Annie and then Ben. “Oh, and no superpowers allowed.”

Both supes rolled their eyes and Ben picked up his gun and eyed it suspiciously.

“Paint. Pfft.” He mumbled under his breath.

It may have started rough, but within ten minutes Ben was fully invested. He was calling out strategies to you as he scouted the terrain. (The terrain being a concrete play area covered with various objects to hide behind - old car hoods, bales of hay, a shed with one side missing, etc.)

As you hid in the shed, Ben had his back to you, keeping watch on the open side. He turned to you and gave you a series of extravagant hand gestures that you guessed were supposed to tell you something. When you just stared at him with wide eyes and shrugged shoulders he rolled his eyes. 

He made the gestures again, whispering instructions at the same time. “I’m gonna scout forward, you stay hidden. Watch your right flank.”

“Oh. Mmkay.” You said with a thumbs up. 

Ben just sighed and moved forward, his head on a swivel as he moved from one piece of cover to another. A few minutes later you heard Annie and Hughie let out twin shouts of dismay and then Ben’s cry of victory. You poked your head out of the shed as the three of them walked forward. Hugh and Annie were splattered nearly head to toe with Ben’s green paint. Ben didn’t have a drop on him. 

You grinned as he approached you, the visor on his helmet raised and a huge smile wreathing his face. 

“Let’s go again!” He shouted.

***

A few days later:

You felt Ben behind you, pressing tight against you. His body was hard and warm, but you trembled. You’d never done anything like this and it scared you.

“Ben - “ You started, but he cut you off.

“Uh uh, sweetness, you promised. You said if I played paintball, you’d finally give me this.”

A whine entered your voice as Ben’s arms encircled you. “But, you liked paintball in the end. I’m telling you, I’m really not sure about this.”

“I am.” Ben tilted his head to press a kiss just behind your ear. “I’m very sure.”

You sighed deeply. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Ben kicked your feet further apart. “Widen your stance.” Then he brought his hands forward onto yours before pulling your arms back a little. “And tuck your arms in closer to your body. You’ll take the recoil better.”

The power of the cold metal weapon in your hands made you sweat as Ben pressed another kiss to your cheek and then stood up and moved away from you. “Okay, baby aim for dead center and pull the trigger when you feel ready.”

Watching your face, Ben could see your fear. “Y/N.” He said softly and you looked at him. “You’re perfectly safe, you’re just aiming at a piece of paper. You can’t hurt anyone.”

He reached out to run his fingers down your cheek. “I know this isn’t something you’ll ever enjoy, and that’s perfectly okay. But I’ll feel much better if you know how to defend yourself against my enemies. I have too many to count and they all know I’m impervious to any kind of pain.” His eyes darkened and you saw real fear there. “So they can only hurt me by hurting you.”

He disarmed you quickly and effortlessly and then pulled you into his arms. He kissed you deeply, harshly, desperately, sucking the air from your lungs. When he finally pulled away, you were panting. His forehead rested against yours and he closed his bright green eyes so his fear and worry were hidden from you. “Please, baby, I need to give you all the protection I can, which includes showing you how to protect yourself. That starts with learning how to handle a weapon.”

He opened his eyes and pulled back a bit, chucking your chin and then pressing one more light kiss against your lips, before whispering to you. “Please.” His voice was almost begging.

You sighed deeply, swayed by his worry and concern. 

“Okay.” You conceded. “Give me back the gun and let me try.”

Ben patted your ass and grinned when you frowned at him. "Good girl."

You chuckled - couldn't expect him to stay mushy for too long.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[slickchickchocolatier]

HI REINAA!! sorry if im bothering you since ur busy w the series fics!! But i would really want to req another fic of sunoo hahaha. So reader is 8th member and pleeeaaadseee make it rlyy smutty!! It could be where yn teases sunoo during dinner and he gets hard then... but plsss make sunoo a sub in this thanks <3 (Fyi ur literally the best writer ever idk how u manage to write these so descriptively and managing to make me feel things LMAOO the other accs i follow wont reply my asks ☠️) thanks alot like alooottttttttt though!! <33

”Sunoo Baby.”

part 2 of “Ddeonu”.

Warnings: Sub/switch!Sunoo, Dom!Reader, unprotected smut, creampie smut, oral (both male and female receiving, demeaning behavior, submissive demands, ball tapping (you already know...), whining, hair pulling, smut dialogue, reverse psychology (not really but i dont know what else to call it.....you'll see what i mean) if you squint, there's a breeding kink....i think that's it.

You and the boys decide to grab a bit at a local hot pot eatery. No one knew of the event that unfolded the week prior of you and Sunoo's 'talk', and believe you, there were many more that followed suit.

.................................

"Look at how cute you look when you take in so much muscle."

"You look so cute when you cry."

"Get up, cutie."

..................................

You had to admit, Sunoo opening up and becoming fond of you allowed for a whole new version of yourself to rise. You loved his sassy and demeaning manners, the way he called you 'cute' and revealing how the more feminine side of your nature was something he had been wanting to see ever since the group had debuted. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders once you realized that all it took was for you to lighten up on your tomboyish persona, and be...well, a girl, for once.

But now you were comfortable. You gained closure and have little reason to expose that girlish nature, such as crying in the middle of the night, all because you thought a certain someone didn't like you. Well you were partially right, there was definitely a dislike, but it wasn't you, just your lack of girly attributes, and the reluctant hesitancy of doing what is the most commonly, demanding act in the industry, the 'ayego's.

Throughout dinner, you observed the way his sharp eyes flickered back and forth between black and hazel under the heat lamp. He was so beautiful. He told you of how important it was to not let anyone know of the secret love affairs that had been ongoing, so naturally that only meant he had to play the part well in acting out as a very nonchalant bastard. Trust you to say, he played the part well.

He'd glance over from time to time, even winking while everyone was nose deep in the menu's, but for some reason, you weren't feeling terribly satisfied. Sure it was nice for him to 'like' you now. One could even say that he cared a great deal for you, considering what he's said to you in bed. But there was something about him that you had wanted to pin down and crush; you're not exactly sure why, but now that there was closure between you two, you felt the need to establish yourself as the equal, especially since he caught you crying.

You ignored his advances, and even rolled your eyes at one point. He took note of your rather obscured behavior, and furrowed his brows in worry when no one was looking. You flared a side shoulder hunch while looking at him directly, mouthing the whispered words of "I'm going to destroy you."

Now Sunoo had an attitude of his own, but there was something rather peculiar when it came to someone matching his level. It's never happened before, yet he had to say, he was kind of digging it. He reaches below the table to gently tap his fingers along your kneecap, only for you to slap his hand way so roughly. Wincing slightly, he nearly gasps after witnessing your response to his touch.

"How could she?...."

He reiterates his action, only for yo to repeat your previous response and slap his hand away once more. Confused, Sunoo couldn't tell if he should have been offended or desired more of whatever game it was you were playing at. Something told him that it was the latter, and that 'something' was hardening under his trousers.

"Oh God..." he whispered under his breath, trying to shake his legs out strategically without anyone noticing. Nothing helped, even the cold ice water that he had 'accidently' dropped on his lap. The car ride home had to be the longest drive he felt in so long...

Once you all got back to the dorm, you bid goodnight and head to your room. Everyone else did the same, and went to sleep with fully tummies. Sunoo, on the other hand, was still hungry, and the way you had been treating him at dinner, he was famished.

Knocking on your door, he enters. "What's up with you? What was up with dinner?"

"Never mind. I'm going to bed."

"Why are you being so---"

"So what?....Cute?" you scoffed out as you raised a brow his way. "I'm glad we got to clarify our feelings, I just wish you could embrace my tomboy-ish ways just as you can with my feminine manners."

Sunoo gulps down a lump of saliva. "Well then...show me."

"What?"

"I got a taste of it at dinner...and....not gonna lie, I kind of want more." he admits, side-eyeing the wall out of embarassment. You never saw him this way, but considering he's loved on you for over a week now, maybe he really did see the light in all of your attributes, to include your non-girlish ones. Just to be sure, you put it to the test.

"Come here." you speak out in a rather high pitched, yet demanding tone. And just as you had suspected, he did exactly what you commanded. "Too easy..."

Grabbing onto his copper red hair, you pull his head back and expose that delicate throat of his. He gasps out with a masculine moan, yet it was as sweet as fruit nectar. You stick your lips onto the soft spot, and sucked profusely, just until a nice mark was left. "My territory." you exclaimed. You thought he would have bit back, yet you were somewhat surprised when he breathed out heavily and bid you to, "do more."

That was all he needed to say, and the tomboy sense in you reacted by pushing him down on your bedspread. You crawl atop of his broad frame, and perched yourself nicely on his groin. He whimpers out in feeling your pelvis grind against his sensitive member. "Aww...what a sweet face." you remark as you drag your finger down his cheek. You stand back up and with your arms crossed, you tell him to undress you...with his mouth.

You guide him with your words to start from the top, and work his way down. He removes your blouse, by kissing your belly button and grabbing hold of the material with his teeth, dragging it upward as he finishes in removing it. Your bra came off immediately after; your jeans were already removed before he entered your room, leaving only your panties remaining. Aiming to remove the last piece of cloth on your body, you tell him to...

"Get on all fours and take it off with your tongue."

He looks up rather bewildered and shocked, his eyes wide with a sense of wonderment. Nodding, he feeds his tongue in between where the cloth meets the plush lips that cradles your opening. God, it felt so good to feel that slick muscle squirming through, finding leverage to pull the material down.

Once he managed to find a way, he drags your underwear down your legs, the flat surface of his tongue grazes against the skin of your inner thighs and calves. Fully removed with you bare, you push him back down made haste as you crawled back on top, only this time, you didn't settle for his groin.

"Clean me real good."

Sitting on his face, his nose rubs the bud of your clitoris while his tongue shoves its way into your opening. He loops his hands up and over your thighs, grabbing hold of your derriere. You could tell by the way he slapped his palms on the cheeks, he was starving for you. You grab the front pieces of his hair and buried his face in deeper as you grind away, riding his tongue with a waving motion that made ocean water look stale.

"Oh my God! Keep going! Don't--don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

You incorporate a slight bouncing motion as you felt his tongue thrusting in and out. You reach behind and pin his hands onto your lower back, continuously coasting his mouth, leaving him no chance to rest.

"Oh fuck I'm going to cum!" you whimpered out as you glazed his entire face. He licks it up, starting with soft and tiny licks, resembling a puppy. "Lick it all up for me." you tell him, at that point the slight bit of his dominant side comes out, the side you were familiar with. You watched as he narrows his eyes, watching how the puppy grew into a fox and emitted harsh, long licks from top to bottom.

You adjusted your position and became parallel to his frame. Grabbing hold at the base of his shaft, you whipped his length around, tapping it roughly against your tongue. He winces in a mixture of discomfort and pleasure; the sensitivity was almost unbearable, and though it would have been pleasing for you to handle him gently, there was something about feeling the sting of this sensation that made him crave more.

"Ah!" he hisses, indicating the pain overriding all other sensations. "Wan't me to return the favor, 'cutie'?" your tone was somewhat condescending, yet he didn't care. He needed the release so badly, and you were the only one that could give it to him. Nodding frantically, he begs you to give him what he needed.

"Beg some more." you coarsely tell him.

"Oh fuck! Please....pl-please....please, y/n....I'll do anything, just...just fuck me to pieces already!"

You gave off small, subtle licks on the shaft, placing soft kisses up and down while twirling your tongue around the bulbous tip. "Whose the cutie now?"

"You are...AH!"

It was rather bold of him to be so daring, yet a quick slap of your palm reminded him that you weren't playing anymore games. After all, dare he tell others that he didn't like you? He barely knew you! How dare he cause you to cry? Then all of a sudden became our knight in shining armor and came to your aid. How dare he...call you 'cute'?

"One more time, who is the cutie now?"

"Fuck! ah! me....it's me!"

Another slap to his ballsack did him in, and you felt delighted upon hearing him say it. "Still want me to destroy you?"

In a flickering moment, his eyes narrowed down even more, like tight slits, they were sharp enough to cut steel. "Oh yeah..." in a blink of an eye, his deep tone loses all whine and desperation, his arm loops around as he nearly picks your entire form up in the air and slams you down on the bed, tumbling over you. The tables had turned.

"Should of destroyed me when you had the chance, cutie."

"Stop calling me that!"

You fling your hands up, yet he pins them down in an instant, allowing the masculinity of his boyish nature to come through. "Cutie, cutie, cutie. I'm gonna fuck you...cutie."

Your eyes widen upon feeling him rushing in. He didn't even take the time to ease his way through, instead, you felt the shoving thickness and length tapping in, breaking through your walls as the stretch causes your back to arch.

"Yeah...I bet that feels so good..."

"S-slow....slow...d-down......slow down!" you barely could catch your breath, yet he remained ignorant to your words and kept up with his momentum. "But you're so cute when I fuck around with you."

The moment he was all in, you swallowed your words as the new pace he took on made his previous one seemed much slower and easy. Bringing back his whiny voice, he whimpers out in a begging tone, yet still maintained control. It was all so conflicting the way he spoke with his actions not at all mirroring his tone.

"Oh baby...please...please let me feel good....let me cum."

"W-what....Ssssunoo......what....what are you doing....to me!?" you gasped out, a roaring and thrilling sensation of ecstasy punctures your gut each time he thrusts in. "Oh baby....cute baby....I wanna cum so badly....I wanna cum inside you.....I'll be a good boy."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear his desperate please, yet he continued to fuck you like a raging bull. You couldn't make any sense of it, but it didn't matter. Between hearing his high pitched cries and feeling his cock rupturing your entrance, you could feel the eruption of a bursting orgasm reaching through, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Oh! I'm....oh my God you're going to make me cum!" you gasped out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you furrowed your brows and looked up with both worry and desperation, expressing both fear for pregnancy and hope that he would not stop.

"My girl, let me cum! Please let me cum deep inside, I promise I'll be a good boy, okay? Just please let me put it all in..."

"Ah! Sssssunoo! Baby!" you felt your cavity flooding out as a rush of warm liquid splashes against his thrusting member, squelching against your skin as he continues to move in and out.

"Please baby! I...I can't hold it in much longer!"

"No Sunoo don't!" you pleaded, yet your heart wasn't all in. You wanted him to, you needed him to do it. There was just something so enthralling about having your words flaring the opposite of your heart's content, much like what he had been doing.

"Oh baby I can't help it! I'm going to cum!"

"Oh please! Sunoo don't! You're going to get me pregnant!"

"Baby I can't stop!"

"Sunoo!"

Your thighs vibrate as you feel the warm liquid seep deep inside your wet muscles. Pleading him to stop, yet wanting him to give you his all had brought about the most intense sexual vigor that you never though existed.

"Oh fuck baby.....cutie....my cute girl...I'm cumming....I promise to be good, just please let me cum inside you everyday, okay?"

Kissing your forehead, he rode out his high and kept up with the psychological collision of being verbally submissive, yet physically dominating. Perhaps to others it wouldn't make sense, but for you and him, it was your own love language that you both developed and embraced.

"Fine...." you caught your breath and speak in a soft tone. "I'll let you do it, but you have to promise me you'll be a good boy, and listen to what I say."

"Yes...my cute girl"

"Don't call me cute...Sunoo."

"Then don't call me 'baby.'"

Rolling your eyes, you both chuckle as you nod in agreement.

Your bodies remained plastered as you both felt the strength of fatigue kicking in, knocking you both out. Just before you drifted off, you took one last look at him. "Sunoo baby...my Sunoo..."

Asleep, you lay soundlessly as he opens both his fox eyes, hearing you mumble those words in secret. "My cute girl."

-Fin

Authors Note: @sunoosrightbuttcheek , i hope you dont mind, i added a little bit of a flare to the sub!sunoo and made him into a little bit of a switch sub/dom, just to make it a little more interesting for you 😏

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

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[cattonicdragon]

could you do mantis, tigress, viper, po, shen, tai lung, kai x a white peacock reader that can manipulate all forms of physics? For reference, the White Peacock Reader has the ability to manipulate all forms of physics regardless of laws. Other have sent you this type of question, so I am sending you this type of question. And I love your stuff too.

mantis,tigress,viper,po,shen,tai lung and kai x white peacock reader who can manipulate all forms of physics

I'm glad you like my stuff! And of course I can

Not been proof read yet I just wanted to post it 😭

Mantis

He finds you beauty and grace very admirable

You fight with such ferocity and grace it's almost unbelievable

He thinks that your powers are really cool but also really scary since they dont abide to any of the laws

Meaning you can do things that shouldn't physically be possible

Thinks that your some kind of God or something,maybe you've just been blessed by the gods

Not to much sparing,he fears that hell be crushed before he can even move

He asks to trace the patterns on your feathers(if you have any patterns)

He wonders if your tail can get in the way when fighting

Your fighting style is literally drop dead gorgeous

Saw you phase through a wall once,cant unsee it

Scary for in battle but very useful as an ally

He asks if you know why your white instead of the usually colours

Very curious about you

Your very mysterious

Tigress

She finds your beauty breath taking but remembers during battle not to be distracted

Shes curious of how you got your powers,did you learn them?,if so who was your master?,were you born with them?,does it run in your family?

Lots of questions

Training constantly

You've bested her more times then she cares to admit

She'll say that you cheated

Shes not saying that because she thinks you incapable,shes just saying that to try and mend her wounded pride

Her leg has phased through you and she lost the match because her brain practically stopped working for a minute or so

She likes to stay on your good side,mainly because she genuinely fears your powers

She believes that you can control them well but the things you can do,shouldn't be humanly/animaly possible

She likes to help clean your tail if you allow her

She wonders how you can fight with such a big tail

She fears fears what people will say when she tells them she lost a match to you,so you tell her that she can say you lost sometimes

She finds it scary and impressiv how much you can do,you can control things like the weather,solid matter etc.

She asks about your origins and if there may have been a particular reason as to why you were born as a white peacock with such immense power

Viper

brought to you by the same gif,again

As a previous ribbon dancer she likes to see the art in different peopls kung fu/fighting style,which meand she loved the way you fight

Such precision and beauty

She thinks your way to overpowerd

Like if you wanted to you could legit just walk on water

Dont like cold noodles?,ok lemme just,heat that up for u rq

She likes to stay relatively on your good side

She will ask to put flowers in your feathers,if you allow her to she will be ecstatic

Such a sweet heart

If you give her a feather as a gift of luck she may just pass out

If you have any patterns on your feathers she likes to trance them with her tail or just look at it

Shes scared to get priced by your sharp talons in battle/sparing

Loves your feathers

Shes curious to your feather colour being white but wont dig or think to deep about it

She just puts it down as being an unique quality of yours

Your tail can get annoying every so often

She likes how you input your tail into your fighting style

Po

Your white feathers give him a tad bit of PTSD

He find the way you fight majestical,almost as if hes watching a play

He likes your feather and asks how you keep them so clean

He would be very hesitant with you sometimes due to the fact you remind him of someone

He thinks white suits you

Hes very surprised,fascinated and intrigued apon finding out about your powers

Your powers are like nothing hes ever seen before and he loves it

He likes to have long training sessions with you to try find a weakspot

He wants you to try teach him

Even if you tell him it's your genes and not taught he will still ask,there no hurt in trying

Liked your tail but it is very big

He likes making noodles for you both and sitting under a tree on a rainy day,knowing that your the reason your both not drenched in water

He wonders how you obtained such power and wonders what It would be like going all on out dragon warrior against you

He gets distracted by your feather alot

If you were to ever give him a feather hed treat it like a treasure that needs to be protected at any cost

Likes to watch your methods of fighting because he wants to try doing it himself

Shen

Hes rather shocked apon learning that there another white peacock

And your very powerful

In some ways hes happy that theres another peacock since he wont feel as lonely being the only white one but then again he in some ways feels like that was a huge part of his character

Apon first meeting you he gets extremely defensive and accuses you of being an imposter,even though you never said a single thing

Has alot of curiosity about your powers

Shen will try test your limits and see if you just unleash your powers out of pure emotion,he has morbid curiosity

He likes to spar ALOT

He likes to talk to you about how he created the cannons aswell as what he did to get the result

Hes very clingy and will often hang around you

Should anyone speak bad about you if you dont handle it,he will gladly

He finds a sick kind of pleasure from having so powerfull by his side

He throws firework shows for you

If you are good with close combat he will get a custom commissioned weapon of your choice for you

Tai lung

Although he finds your white feathers beautiful he also feels threatened

The pure reason for this is power

Hes been a star student for so long,the best of the best and you show up and have more power than him

Hes very stand off ish at first

He warms up to you eventually,its just a case of him getting there

He comes to find the brutality and accuracy of your fighting method

He trains with you at any given chance,hes not afraid to fight someone stronger than him and he will most likely go in blind,refusing to learn anything from his opponent

He asks if your methods can be taught and is a bit sulky if it cant

Hes not going to underestimate you by a long shot,hes more likely to overestimate you

He finds you feathers pretty and can momentarily find himself losing focus in training

If you gave him a feather he'd treat it as if it were his life sorce

He believes that when he achieves the dragon scroll you two will finally be even

Kai

Other than oogway he hasnt seen such powerful chi before

Nor has he seen the types of power you weild

Your a mystery at first,a mysterious white peacock shows up one day and has practically limitless power?

Hes going to be after your chi,no doubts

After awhile it's much like having a frenemy

"Still havnt given up your chi,(name)?""still havnt defeated oogway,kai?"

Its can go back and forth like this for a very long time,which it usually ends with you slipping through solid matter to escape

It gets to the point whether hes unsure if he still wants to take your chi

It would give him so much raw power but hes grown...fond of you

Which he hates to admit and probally wont

Once you become acquaintances tho it will turn into sparring seasons often

He brings his jombies out every so often to spice things up

He likes how smoothly you execute your kung fu moves/attacks

However in the end he still technically got what he wanted,just differently

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 15

⚠️ Trigger Warning for angst/whump

❤️💚💜🩷 🚒🧑‍🚒

There was something unnerving about seeing the strongest person she knew, crumpled unconscious on the floor.

Tam found him cocooned around his Grandmother - sleeping soundly like a child who had sought out the comfort of a parent during a storm.

It all seemed so peaceful, but for the obvious devastation peppered over, and around them. And, of course, the glaring fact that Virgil was, indeed, unconscious, and not asleep.

Her heart panged hard, as she finally remembered to breathe, her chest shuddering with the deep inhalation.

The family didn't deserve this - well, most people didn't; but, it went double for the Tracys. It wasn't so much that they put their lives on the line on a daily basis; that debt of gratitude went without saying. It was perhaps the fact that she'd had the privilege of spending time with the family during her training; breaking bread with them in the evenings, sharing new stories she hadn't heard at the firehouse a gazillion-plus times. Somewhere during their training, Phoenix had shed their associate titles and had emerged as friends; which made this rescue so much harder than her average John or Jane Doe.

"Mrs. Tracy?"

"Told yer a thousand times kid; Sally suits me just fine. Mrs.Tracy is reserved for our shareholders, and Brains - who I've given up trying to change.

"Sally," she corrected herself, feeling a sudden warmth fill her face.

"How are you holding up?" Tam scrambled to unpack her medkit.

"I'll be a lot better once this brave idiot is off me. Can't breathe."

Tam paused a moment, and frowned. Virgil's weight was only partially resting on Sally; his body angled in such a manner as not to crush her. She wondered briefly if that had been at all planned on Virgil's part.

"Level with me kid, what are you thinking?"

Tam had a lot of time for Sally; she was brave, kind-hearted and wonderfully feisty - especially given her age, which she guessed was a taboo topic, here on Tracy Island. The woman was also far too sharp-witted to have the wool pulled over her eyes.

She sighed, continuing to work, as she analyzed the scene before her.

"I think the initial impact of your fall may be the real reason behind the pain you have breathing. Virgil's been careful to lie in a way that would not crush you."

"Sure sounds like him. So?"

"So...we need to check for injuries."

There was a confidence in her voice that she did not feel - or rather, she was confident about things; procedures, protocol, her job. But, inwardly, having not one, but numerous people she cared about (more than she perhaps should, given the amount of time she'd actually spent in their company) she'd admit it; this rescue had her shook. Tam buried the feeling deep, and ran the scan.

"How're they doing?"

Tam looked up from the scan to see the youngest Tracy approaching.

"Alan?" Sally's voice rasped out.

"Sally, you have three broken ribs; but as far as I can see, they've not caused any significant injuries to the surrounding area,"

She passed the med-scanner to Alan, who concurred.

"Well, Grandma; I'd say that's earned you a VIP stay in Tracy Island's very own infirmary. Don't worry, I've heard the doctors there are very good-looking!"

"I wasn't aware that Kip was a doctor too!"

"What? Eww! No!"

Grandma's chuckle was instantly switched for a grimace of pain.

Alan gently rescued a hand on her shoulder.

"Hel-p Vir-gil," she breathed.

"Tam's doing just that, Grandma. Penny and myself will look after you. It'll give Tam the space she needs to properly help Virg."

A hover stretcher, followed by a well-spoken lady appeared. And, before-long, Sally, Alan, and the woman - Penny vanished. Tam couldn't exactly say when. Her attention now firmly on the one member of International Rescue who had yet to regain consciousness.

[eywamygoddesswrites]

— 𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓼 — (neteyam x fem!reader)

requested: yes

synopsis: golden boy neteyam has a lot of suitors but best friend y/n didn't like any of them and would tease the hell of out neteyam just to see him embarrassed

pairing: neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

tags: sarcasm, fluff, implied jealousy, long time pinning

warnings: lowercase intended, swearing

word count: 1.9k

a/n: characters are aged up! this is the very first request by @tejas-kris ! thank you very much for the idea! hope this is to your liking ^u^

+ gif not mine. ctto.

neteyam, as everyone knows, is the next olo’eyktan and the golden child of the sully’s. he’s kind, thoughtful, humble, and everything a leader is. handcrafted by eywa to perfection. all na’vi his age longed to be picked by him when he was to choose a mate.

y/n, the rebellious best friend of neteyam, is also a part of the growing admirers of neteyam but he doesn’t need to know that. she has been a part of his life ever since they could breathe. you’d think that because of being his age and being in his life that they’re best of friends, but you’re wrong!

growing up, y/n would hang with the sully's and have her height measured beside them. at one point, both she and neteyam had the same height until y/n continued to grow taller than the oldest sully kid.

he became the end of her height jokes until he just didn’t care anymore. yeah, it was their thing with the jokes but if someone else says them, y/n would definitely pull those na’vi’s tails and perhaps destroy their dignity if she feels generous.

with age comes maturing of many things, mainly the features of one's face. neteyam grew up into a very handsome na’vi. imagine being the son of toruk makto, son of the daughter of the previous olo’eyktan, first born son, and the next olo’eyktan in the making?? not only that, someone who is strong, smart, sharp, humble, did i mention handsome, and kind?

oh eywa, to be standing beside neteyam and being called his… that’s the dream, right? wrong. not when he’s constantly beside y/n. that bothersome yet loyal companion of his.

neteyam had many suitors come his way. there was inaw, a beautiful na’vi who weaves beautiful baskets and many others. when she was trying to give neteyam a bracelet after she confessed, y/n was there to torment the poor na’vi and by poor na’vi, it’s neteyam. why does he get the end of the torment?

“ooh~ lookie here! neteyam finally got another suitor! and look at this beautiful bracelet,” y/n held neteyam’s wrist up as she examined the gift that inaw had just given neteyam didn’t ask for the bracelet to be put on. inaw just put it on him–

“you weave the most beautiful materials, inaw.” y/n grins, showing her fangs to the na;vi that was slowly backing away out of awkwardness and embarrassment. “and i must admit, it suits his features. made his hands pop out its color and veins.” her voice just laced with sarcasm and her eyes rolled adding to the mockery.

neteyam soon removes the bracelet and gave it back to inaw, face flushed with embarrassment. “i really, really appreciate the gesture. but i’m not looking for a mate now.” neteyam says in a hurry before running off.

y/n turns to the poor na’vi while chuckling. “oh eywa, when will you skxawngs learn?” she once again rolled her eyes before following neteyam, embarrassing him more.

another was a na’vi named nitsek who had a very beautiful singing voice. she would always pull neteyam to sit in the front whenever she and a few other na’vi’s sang during their events.

what nitsek didn’t like was when y/n followed beside neteyam. she hated neteyam’s best friend because it hinders her from pursuing the next olo’eyktan. nitsek would bat her eyelashes and ask neteyam to tell y/n to move to another place so she can do her best in performing.

y/n always hears this and snorts in amusement. what a bold move, she admits, but a very wrong move at it.

“nEteYAm oH My eYwA yOu mUsT tAkE tHis hidEoUs fRienD oF yOurs AwAy fRom thE fRont,” y/n says while mocking nitsek’s voice. “yeah neteyam, you should shoo me away because i might distract your little girly over there,” she says while pointing and wiggling her index finger towards the na’vi girl.

“of course, our cutie over here would protect his ‘future mate’, right? i mean, i know you to be such a protective na’vi but hey, i’m not THAT dangerous now, am i?” y/n raises her brow at neteyam before turning to nitsek, who looked like she was ready to just pounce at the na’vi mocking her.

neteyam’s face was as purple as a yovo fruit. he walks away, not bothering to say goodbye to nitsek. the na’vi tried to call neteyam back but he didn’t return.

y/n blows a bitter kiss towards nitsek and waves goodbye. nitsek was left punching the air and hissing at the leaving na’vi’s way.

out of all the na’vi’s that tried to pursue neteyam, her favorite was roka, an acquaintance of kiri as roka was training to be a tsahik when the day comes. to be fair, she was very good at what she was practicing. one of mo’at’s best students but not one of her favorites.

roka would always ask kiri to be the one to help tend neteyam’s cuts after every raid, not that he needed that much help since he doesn’t get that hurt often. kiri, being the nice friend she is, she would let roka patch neteyam up.

despite meeting up a lot, neteyam and roka were awkward with each other. roka didn’t know how to start conversations with her admiration while neteyam just wants to be finished and leave the tent as soon as he can.

y/n came in with the last group of the raid and asked the other sully kids where was their oldest brother. “he’s in roka’s tent! she’s just patching his cuts up.” tuk says happily while she encircles y/n checking if the older na’vi had any cuts. seeing that there were cuts, she leads y/n to kiri’s tent so she can get patched up.

“sissy! y/n needs to get some bandages.” tuk got some of the medicines that her sister usually uses and some patches to cover the cuts afterward.

upon learning where neteyam was, a sly thought passed her mind. while kiri was patching her up, she motioned tuk to come closer.

“hi’i tuk, can i ask you a favor?” y/n says with a smile, one that kiri was familiar with while tuk was not so. “what is it tsmuke?” tuk asks, her voice just so sweet. no one will know that she has any malicious intentions.

“could you tell your big brother that your tsmuke is hurt badly and needs his support?” y/n pouts a bit to seal the deal. tuk nods immediately before running out the tent. kiri looks up from patching her friend up, an eyebrow raised and a smirk breaking out her mouth.

“you’re such an ass, y/n!” she says while nudging her friend. “whaaaat??? am i wrong?! your friend here is badly hurt and you laugh at her?” y/n raised her hand and dramatically sighs. “what if this was my last day? i would not see my dear neteyam’s face. his oh-so-handsome face that all omatikaya fawns over.” she clasped her hands together and swings her legs.

“eywa, i could never take you seriously with all the shit you say.” kiri snorts before finishing patching y/n up. “but i’m ‘serious’ here. i’m juuuust like everyone else.” y/n air quotes the word ‘serious’ before leaning back against her arms.

“you know, that’s not how you get my older brother’s attention. he already has it on you and you don’t have to try.” kiri says as she placed all the medicine and patches she used back in their places. “he looks at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.”

y/n choked on her saliva before laughing. “noooo no he doesn’t. that perfect ass skxawng does not, and i quote, ‘looks at me as if i put the stars up in the sky’. i get that i can be an asshole to other na’vi’s sometimes,” kiri glares playfully, “sometimes??” “that’s not the point, kiri!” y/n throws her arms up in frustration.

“the point is he doesn’t like me that way, point blank period. i mean, yeah we fight sometimes but i think that’s because we get competitive, and maybe our feelings get the better of us, but he’s such great na’vi. even when i get mad after he won our sparring, he would apologize even when he doesn’t have to.” y/n rests her chin on her palm while looking at kiri.

“when that brother of yours finds the right mate to spend his life with, i wouldn’t find anyone like him who would put up with me. i mean, with this personality, who would? even if i say ‘i love him’, would he say he loves me back?” she mumbles the last sentence while playing with her anklet. one that she made with neteyam and matched with.

when kiri didn’t reply, y/n looked up to see what was happening. kiri had stopped her actions and was looking behind y/n.

y/n turns around to see neteyam with tuk not far behind. realization hit her hard like bricks. he positively, absolutely heard everything she had said. fuck.

“i’ll leave you two to chat, alright?” kiri says while pushing tuk away from the tent, her little voice growing further as she asked her sister why.

neteyam moved close to y/n, a small space between them enough space to leave for eywa. y/n’s ears flatten as her tail swayed furiously. she stood up to leave but neteyam pulled her back, both standing in the middle of the tent.

“you heard nothing from me, okay?! absolutely nothing.” y/n glares right at neteyam’s eyes only to look away almost immediately.

neteyam, who’s face was just purple after hearing that his heart’s love had just confessed her feelings so straightforwardly, how was he supposed to react? his tail sways in a small but fast motion, ears twitching in happiness as he smiled.

“so you do feel the same way i do.” neteyam says as a matter of fact. y/n rolled her eyes before punching his shoulder softly. “no i don’t.” his grin widen before pulling her into a hug. this caught y/n off-guard before she tried to get him off of her. she ultimately gave up and hugged him back. he can hear her heart beat fast as he rest his head against her chest.

“i see you.” neteyem softly says while playing with a braid of y/n’s. y/n’s eyes widen as her heart raced. oh eywa, it’s happening… it’s hAPPENING–

“it’s alright if you don’t say it now. i will wait for you for as long as it takes.” neteyam adds before letting go of her, only to be pulled back into the hug, this time, her chin resting on top of his head.

“i see you, neteyam. for such a long time, it’s just you in my head,” she says, her voice was small, quiet almost but he heard her well.

he was glad. neteyam had loved this tall na’vi since forever and to be in her arms at this moment just feels so… right. y/n thought the same. she can finally keep him in her grasp, never to be let go. and besides, she needs an armrest and neteyam is there to provide it for her.

“am i also in your heart?”

“oh shut up, skxawng!!”

na'vi dictionary (seen in order):

hi'i - small

tsmuke - sister