#And she would just frown. So hard. And then teach him anyway and tell him not to overdo it/use it often.

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Prompt: Fictober Day 1: "That was good work."

Fandom: Lumine

Summary: Camille and Kody have a brief conversation.

Content Warnings: N/A

Words: 1,249

Camille watched a series of bottles shift between Kody’s hands; once the green liquid from one vial had been drained into another, thicker, clear substance, Kody would reach for another, his expression not changing past the subtle twice of his nose as the scents mingled. The green itself spread and fell slowly, as if he had just dropped liquid food dye into watery corn syrup.

“Don’t hesitate,” Camille reminded him, her palm pressed to her cheek. “If you do, it’s going to end up tasting acidic.”

Kody huffed in response, his hands lingering over another tube held in a small wooden rack. “Don’t distract me.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Because you’re distracting me.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgment mingled with amusement caught behind Camille’s now-closed lips as she watched him continue, now more focused than before as he slowly poured half of the liquid in with the mixture.

“What, you’re not gonna get onto me for using too much or too little?” As he spoke, Kody’s bitter gaze flickered up long enough to glance at the other. He slowly reached out for the stirring stick, eyes stuck on Camille as he pulled it closer. “Or you’re not gonna tell me to be careful about how I stir it?”

“Nope, not yet. I’m just waiting and watching now.” Camille smiled a bit, watching as he stirred slowly, almost meticulously. His focus had seemed to double after he grew quiet. “What happened to me not distracting you?”

“If I’m just complaining about you, then I’m not getting distracted. But if you’re interrupting me, then I’m gonna lose focus. How long does this even need to be stirred?”

“Didn’t you read the note I left you?”

“I can’t read Terranian yet, and you left it in Terranian.”

Camille could feel her smile break as he reminded her—though, the only actual change on her expression was a subtle twitch of her lips. Her brain went blank, the only word crossing her mind for a moment being ‘shit’ as she stared at the boy now working silently across from her.

That’s right, you and Sera couldn’t talk at all when you first met her.

“How did you follow the instructions up until now?”

“Eyeballed it. I made something similar before, so, it’s not like it’s a big deal. Plus, it’s not like I even asked you to actually write instructions down for me—I just asked if you had the ingredients.”

“Given how Lumine has talked about how you make your potions… That’s not really reassuring.”

“I knew what I was doing then, too.”

“Did you?”

Kody grew quiet, pulling the stick out as he transferred the syrup-consistency potion into another glass bottle and seal it.

“I didn’t know how it was actually going to react with him, but I knew it wouldn’t kill him. I knew what I put in it, and that nothing in it would mix badly together to be that bad.”

“M-hm. At least there’s that, I guess.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Feels like there should be a ‘usually’ there, Camille said silently, watching Kody put the vial aside and seal the remaining ingredients. You’ve got a long way to go, but. That doesn’t mean you haven’t studied hard already.

“I’ll clean everything up, too. So. Don’t worry about me making things more of a mess than they already are.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it before I go out today.” Camille waved her hand, watching as Kody pushed himself up. He gathered the emptied and now-dirtied dishes and tools and took them towards the small kitchen. “If you’re going to try and clean up anyway, just drop them off in the sink that’s not by the fridge. It’s the one that’s for anything that isn’t a fruit or vegetable. Potions, meat, whatever.”

“Alright.” Kody did as she instructed, now without any complaint or push-back, and then sat back down across from her. He picked the potion’s bottle back up and held it up to the light, his eyes flickering back and forth through the liquid that almost matched his eye color as he inspected it. “Is it really safe to wash potion bottles next to where you prep meat, though?”

“I mean, nothing I work with in here is toxic. And if it is, then the bottle just gets disposed of.” Camille shrugged, watching him closely. He seemed, at the very least, pleased with the mixture’s consistency and color. “So, what made you want to make something for pain? Everything okay?”

“You’ve been complaining about headaches a lot lately, and clearly, you’re not going to do anything about it yourself.”

Camille felt her smile shatter once again, her lips now fully turning into a frown. “You really noticed that, huh?”

“Lumine did, too. He actually overheard you mention it first.”

“Sera?”

“You actually don’t say anything about it around her, I don’t know if you’re just like. Worried about worrying her or something, but. You don’t even really say it to us, you just kind of say it to yourself and keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

Camille dragged her hand down her face as she leaned harder into the back of her chair. “Aghhh. I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah, well. It’s getting on my nerves, so try this. It’s cool enough now.” He held the bottle out to her, their green eyes meeting as her attention redirected back towards him.

Getting on your nerves? Is that just your way of saying you worry, in this case? Camille hid her smile, eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

She took the bottle from his hands, much smaller than her own, the glass still subtly warm—partially from the mixture, partially from his own hands. “So, you actually sat down and made this for me?”

“Hopefully it’s not too acidic from you distracting me.”

Judging by his half-smirk, it was less of a concern, and more of a facetious comment. Something to poke and prod at her.

She couldn’t help but smile a bit more, seeing how confident he was. How sure he was that, even though she distracted him so much by talking to him, it would still be alright. Even if he silently struggled with it on most days, she always tried to take the moments that he was so sure of himself in good spirits.

“Ha. Even if it was, I’ve definitely had worse than something that’s a little bit acidic. I’ve probably had coffee worse than it, honestly.” She opened it, sniffed, and hen downed it as quickly as possible. If it was actually acidic, she would—hopefully—not even notice. If anything, it would likely feel no worse than mild heartburn—and at worse, severe heartburn.

“Well, was it?”

She waited for a moment, expecting an aftertaste of… Something. Bitterness. Something akin to bile. An incorrect texture from overmixing, adding one ingredient too soon, overheating it, letting it get too cool during the cooking process rather than letting it cool after, something.

But it was no different from what she would have made herself for a patient. Slightly sweet, a bit sticky—it would definitely feel better if she had chased it down with warm water or something else. But it was, actually, up to her standards.

“Not at all, actually.” She said, twisting the neck of the bottle in her fingers. “That was good work, Kody.”

“Yeah? Told you I knew what I was doing. Hope it helps, it’ll probably take a little bit, but.”

[daryltwdixon]

Teach You

Daryl Dixon x Reader

warnings: smutttttt

notes: daryl has 0 game, 0 experience, and is eager to please. I thought about this as I was falling asleep last night and couldn't wait to write it for you. Inspired by Norman saying if Daryl ever got down and dirty there would be premature ejaculation

She/her pronouns, foreplay only, gets straight to it

The invitation had been innocent enough, though Daryl had found a way to make it a minefield in his head. Dinner at her house. Nothing fancy, she’d said. Just them, some canned spaghetti, and maybe a drink.

He’d almost said no, but the way she’d looked at him—smiling soft and easy, like she wanted him there more than anyone else—made him mutter, “Yeah, alright.”

Now, he’s sitting on her couch, shoulders stiff, his crossbow propped awkwardly by the door. She hums in the kitchen, clinking dishes together. He wonders if it’s too late to leave.

“Don’t sit too quiet in there,” she calls, teasing. “You’ll scare the furniture.”

Daryl huffs a laugh through his nose. “Furniture don’t need me to make it nervous.”

She steps into the room, carrying two mismatched bowls. “You kidding? You’re terrifying. Real menace, Dixon.” She hands him a bowl, sitting close enough for her thigh to press against his.

Daryl shifts, his grip tightening on the bowl. “S’not what people usually say.”

She gives him a sidelong glance, lips quirking. “What do they say?”

He doesn’t answer, staring into the spaghetti like it’s gonna save him. She leans in, the bare skin of her arm brushing his, and he forgets how to breathe.

“You’re not used to this, huh?” Her tone is light, but her eyes are searching.

He shrugs. “Dunno what ‘this’ is.”

“Someone flirting with you,” she says, blunt as ever, setting her bowl aside. “How’s that feel, by the way?”

He almost chokes. “Ain’t what you’re doin’.”

“It’s exactly what I’m doing.”

His ears burn, and he fights the urge to stand up and bolt. “Y/N—”

She cuts him off, leaning closer, her voice dropping to something softer. “If I haven't made it abundantly clear lately: I like you. A lot.”

The words hit him harder than any walker ever could. He swallows, glancing at her, then quickly away. “Ain’t right.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… too old.” He shifts again, looking anywhere but her face. “You could do better.”

Her laugh is quiet, almost disbelieving. “You really think that?”

He nods, his jaw tightening. “Don’t got think ‘bout it. It’s true.”

She tilts her head, watching him for a long moment. Then, setting her hand lightly on his knee, she asks, “When’s the last time someone told you you’re wrong?”

He tenses under her touch but doesn’t pull away. “Not wrong—”

“Daryl,” she interrupts gently. “You’ve got this whole big, twisted idea in your head about what you deserve. And it’s bullshit.”

He stiffens. “Ain’t—”

“Bullshit,” she says again, firmer this time. “And I’m gonna prove it.”

She stands, setting her bowl aside, then his, and turns to face him. Her hands are on her hips, her gaze steady as she looks down at him. “Can I ask you something personal?”

He frowns but nods hesitantly.

“Have you ever… been with someone?”

His face flushes crimson, and he drops his gaze to the floor.

“That’s a no, then.” Her voice is warm, not teasing, but it makes him flinch anyway.

“Don’t mean nothin’,” he mumbles, fidgeting where he sits.

“It means everything,” she counters, stepping closer. “Because if no one’s shown you what it feels like to be wanted, how’re you supposed to know?”

His heart hammers against his ribs as she moves between his knees, crouching down and resting her hands lightly on his shins. He stares at her like a deer caught in headlights. “What’re you doin’?”

She smiles, tilting her head. “Only what you want me to. But you have to tell me if you do.”

He swallows hard, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. “I...I dunno.”

“It’s okay to want, Daryl,” she murmurs, moving her legs up and onto his lap with a slow, deliberate movement so she's straddling him, her hands now resting delicately on his shoulders.

His breath catches, and he freezes, his hands hovering uselessly in the air, "Okay," he breathes.

Her voice drops lower, softer. “You don’t even know where to put your hands, do you?”

“I— I can’t—”

She gently lifts his wrists, guiding his hands to the curve of her hips. “Start here.”

He stares at her, wide-eyed, his fingers twitching against her waist. “You sure ‘bout this?”

“I’ve never been more sure.” She says, her hand coming up to cup his jaw, the touch sending electricity into his skin, “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing. Only if you want me to.”

His grip tightens slightly, a shuddering breath escaping him. “Yeah. I want it. I want you.”

Daryl barely has time to process anything before she tilts his chin up, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Her hands are steady, her expression soft but laced with something deeper-desire, maybe? His throat goes dry.

"First things first," she murmurs, brushing her thumb along the line of his jaw. "You ever kissed anyone before?"

He shakes his head, his breathing becoming irregular.

Her smile softens as it spreads across her face, endearing and non judgmental. She leans in, her breath warm against his lips. "Then let me teach you."

Her mouth brushes his softly, testing, like she's giving him the chance to pull away. He doesn't. Instead, his hands tighten on her hips as she deepens the kiss, her lips moving against his in a way that makes his head spin.

"Relax," she whispers against his mouth, pulling back just enough to guide him. He exhales shakily, his shoulders dropping slightly. When she kisses him again, he leans into it this time, his lips parting hesitantly.

She hums in approval, her hands threading into his hair, tugging gently to encourage him. He nearly lets out an inhuman noise at the feeling of her fingers curling in his hair, but he swallows it down, instead focusing on her soft lips on his.

"That's it," she breathes, her voice low and sultry. "Just follow me."

Her tongue traces the seam of his lips, and he jerks slightly, his breath hitching. She pulls back, laughing softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he rasps, his face burning. "Just... wasn't expectin' that."

"Well, get used to it," she teases, leaning in again. This time, when her tongue slides tentatively into his mouth, he meets her halfway, mimicking her movements as best as he can. It's clumsy, but she doesn't seem to mind, her soft moans sending heat straight through him. It suddenly occurs to him that she might be enjoying this just as much as hime.

As the kiss deepens, her hips begin to move, rolling slowly against his lap. Daryl tenses, his fingers twitching against her sides as she grinds against him, finally drawing a low, shaky groan from his throat.

Her lips brushing against his stubble and eventually against the shell of his ear where she whispers, "You like that?"

"Yeah. Feels-feels good." he nods, swallowing hard.

She smiles, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pulling back just enough to grab the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she lifts it over her head, tossing it aside to reveal bare skin and soft curves that leave him staring, wide-eyed and trozen.

"You're beautiful," he mutters before he can stop himself, the words tumbling out unfiltered.

Her smile softens, and she cups his face in her hands, searching his eyes. "Could say the same about you. Touch me, Daryl."

His hands flex nervously on her hips, now pressing into bare skin that feels hot to the touch. "Don't wanna mess it up."

"You won't." She reaches for his hands again, guiding them upward until his calloused fingers brush the swell of her breasts. He sucks in a sharp breath, his touch featherlight and hesitant.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice rough with uncertainty.

"It's perfect," she murmurs, arching into his touch. "Here, let me show you."

She places her hands over his, guiding his fingers to knead and explore, her soft sighs of pleasure encouraging him. He grows bolder with each movement, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, drawing a gasp from her lips.

"Like that," she breathes, her hips grinding down harder against him. "You're doing so good, Daryl."

Her praise sends a jolt of heat through him, and he pulls her closer, burying his face against her neck as his confidence grows.

"Never done nothin' like this before," he admits, his voice muffled, his lips tracing the column of her neck and moving down to her shoulders, onto her clavicle and chest.

"You're a fast learner," she says breathlessly, tugging his hair gently to make him look at her. Her lips find his again, hungrier this time, and he responds with a desperation that surprises even him.

His hands continue their kneading of her breasts, traveling around her to hug her tight against him, the swell of them pressing into his clothed chest, his hips beginning to move instinctively beneath her. The thought occurs to him that he hates clothes.

She gasps against his mouth, breaking the kiss to press her forehead to his.

"You're incredible," she whispers, her voice breathy. "I've wanted this for so long."

Daryl swallows hard, his chest heaving.

"Don't know what you see in me, but... I don't wanna stop."

"Then don't," she murmurs, kissing him again. "I'll take care of you. Just let me."

With newfound confidence—or maybe just desperation—Daryl leans forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her chest. He works his way down, his kisses slow and clumsy, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her breath hitches when his mouth brushes between the swells of her breasts, and when he kisses the top, then the underside, he swears she arches into him on purpose, trying to drive him out of his damn mind.

Then, tentatively, he takes her nipple into his mouth. The sound she makes—low and ragged—has his cock straining so hard against his jeans he thinks he might lose it right there. Her hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging lightly as his tongue flicks out, testing, tasting her. She gasps, and that sound drives a hunger in him he’s never felt before.

His hips shift beneath her as she continues grinding against him, her movements deliberate and unrelenting. The friction is almost too much, the ache in his lap unbearable. He grips her hips hard, trying to slow her down. “You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he mutters, his voice rough, lips brushing against her neck.

She exhales a shaky laugh, a smile teasing her lips. “That’s kinda the point.”

Before he can respond, she leans back slightly, her hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. “Here,” she says, popping the button open with practiced ease. His breath catches as she begins to slide the zipper down, revealing the curve of her hip.

His mind races. He’s never had a woman like this before—so wanting for him, so sure of herself. His chest tightens at the thought of messing this up, of not being enough for her. But at the same time, his heart pounds with anticipation. God, he’s thought about her like this more times than he can admit. What her skin would feel like. What her lips would taste like. And now, it’s happening, and he feels so far out of his depth he doesn’t know where to begin.

She must notice his wide eyed stare, because her other hand tilts his chin up then, catching his gaze, "Only if you want to," she says again.

His throat is suddenly very dry, and all he can do is nod.

She smiles, and his chest tightens. She guides his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans, the soft skin of her pubic bone brushing his fingers first. The light tuft of hair there is the only thing rougher than her skin, and when his fingers graze lower, they slide easily over the slick heat of her center.

A growl rumbles in his chest, unbidden, as he realizes how wet she is. For him. His head spins, his blood roaring in his ears. When his fingers dip lower, pressing into her, her walls clench around them greedily. She moans—loud, uninhibited—and the sound nearly undoes him.

"Yes, Daryl, that's it," she breathes. "Curl them, baby."

He does as she says, his fingers pressing into her, finding that soft, spongy spot that makes her cry out and buck against him. His palm brushes against the swollen nub at the apex of her sex, and the way she moves against him, grinding against his hand, has him gripping her hip with his free hand to ground himself.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, his voice raw as he watches her, awestruck.

She’s beautiful—blissed out and needy, her body moving with his like they’ve done this a hundred times before. He can’t take it anymore. His free hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around the back of her neck as he pulls her down to kiss him. The kiss is desperate, hungry, and the little sounds she makes against his lips make his body tighten unbearably.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps against his mouth, her voice trembling. “I’m so close.”

Her words send a jolt through him, and he groans low in his throat, the tension in his core mounting to an unbearable peak as he groans against her lips, gasping for breath as his high flushes through him. Before he can stop it, his release hits him hard and stars break against his vision. Her whimpers rise to full on ragged moans as she presses into his hand then one last time, his fingers knuckle deep inside her as they press against her spongey walls as she tightens around them, sucking his digits further into her as the climax breaks over her.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, her kisses trailing down his jaw and neck as her hips slow, her ragged breaths giving way to soft, contented sighs.

When she pulls back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hooded with lust, she looks down at him and smiles. “Did you just…?” she asks, her gaze dropping to his lap.

His face burns as he remembers himself, the wetness in his pants prominent as they both look down. Slowly, he pulls his hand from her, the loss of contact making her frown slightly. He bows his head, shame tightening his chest as he presses his hands into his lap.

“That is so hot,” she murmurs, her voice rich and warm, not even a hint of laughter behind it.

Daryl’s head jerks up, his breath catching in his throat. “Hot?” he rasps, his voice cracking slightly.

She nods, her smile soft and utterly disarming as her fingers trail along his jaw. “Yeah. You’re so worked up just from me, Daryl. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her words make his head spin. She’s serious—dead serious—and it hits him like a freight train. She isn’t mocking him, isn’t annoyed or disappointed. She likes him. Wants him. And not just in some passing way.

“You really mean that?” he mumbles, his hands twitching where they return to rest awkwardly against her hips.

Her brow furrows slightly, her expression turning tender. “Of course I mean it. You have no idea how crazy you drive me, do you?”

He stares at her, stunned silent, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn’t understand it—can’t wrap his head around why someone like her would want someone like him—but the look in her eyes leaves no room for doubt.

Her lips brush against his, slow and teasing. “Wanna go again?” she whispers, her voice like honey. “I’ve got a few more things I can teach you.”

His heart stutters, and he swears the heat in her gaze alone could undo him all over again. She’s not just enjoying herself—she’s reveling in it, like she’s been waiting for this moment as long as he has.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and hoarse. He swallows hard, his body stirring again despite the lingering haze of his release. “Yeah, okay.”

Her smile widens, and it’s nothing short of radiant. She leans in, her mouth covering his in a kiss that feels deeper this time, more confident. He lets himself relax, his hands finding her waist, and for the first time, he lets himself believe this is real—that she’s here, wanting him, and not judging him for a second.

Her hips roll against him again, slow and deliberate, and his fingers tighten instinctively on her waist. When she breaks the kiss, her lips curve into a smirk, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Good. ‘Cause we’re just getting started.”

Part II

[artdcnaldson]

tashi in the mix to this "teach me" verse hold on because..... tashi teaching you how to move your hips on a mans cock to make him crazy, on art because patrick would try to slip his tip in 😒,,,, hands on your hips, guiding you, you can feel her nipples on your back as she helps you rock back and forth over his dick.... art slipping and sliding through your slick folds, moaning when tashi turns your head to lick into your mou- i have another idea for patrick ill be back

hiiiii 🫶🩷

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (f!recieving oral, grinding, orgasm denial)

A/N: Your mind amazes me so bad it’s crazy. Patrick’s part is gonna be so 🤭🫶 I’m excited. Anyways. Need Artashi so bad it’s clinical

When you tell Tashi, her face contorts in a mix of annoyance and confusion. At you, for you, at them— it was hard to tell.

“Jesus, you’ve just been jerking and sucking them off for weeks now?” She asks, her lips turned into a frown

“I didn’t think you’d be upset about it,” you said shyly, feeling an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach. “It’s nothing serious between us, just—“

She stops you, laughing wryly. “No, I don’t give a fuck if they’re your boyfriends or not. I just can’t fucking believe that you’ve been getting them off and they haven’t even offered to make you cum.”

You feel heat in your cheeks. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t ever ask. It’s too embarrassing.”

Tashi rolls her eyes. “Jesus, if you can suck their dicks, they can make you cum. It’s not hard.” And she’s right. It’s not like you haven’t wondered what it would feel like for their hands to fit between your thighs, how different it might feel for their fingers to be buried inside of you— long and thick, different than yours. Or their mouths— even though thinking about it makes your stomach twist with embarrassment. “Whatever. I’ll fix it for you.”

Tashi will fix it. And that’s that.

It’s not even a day later that Tashi texts you, inviting you over to her dorm. “They’re fucking chauvinists,” she explains, knees brushing yours as you face each other on her bed. “They’re treating you like a fucking fleshlight because you’re naive. But you’re not going to be naive anymore. You’re going to get exactly what you want. What you need.”

“But I like it,” you admit nervously, afraid to let her down. “Being wanted like that.”

She smiles, brushes her hand along your cheek. “We’re not quitting. We’re leveling the playing field. They’ve given you some lessons, it’s my turn.”

Art Donaldson is a weak link— needy, sweet, eager. He’d follow Patrick or Tashi off a fucking cliff if they wanted him to. Art’s so easy that it’s no surprise when he’s at Tashi’s door fifteen minutes after she texts him.

Between you and Tashi, it’s easy to get him where you want him— desperate, wanting. All it takes are a few kisses and rubbing his dick through his jeans.

He watches, almost dazed as you kiss Tashi deeply, putting all those lessons from him and Patrick to work. And she’s like a mix of the two in a way— like she’d taken the care and hunger Art kissed with and tangled it up in all of Patrick’s intensity and need.

“That’s nice. At least they’re good for something,” Tashi murmurs against your lips. You nod, mouth open, leaning back in to kiss her again. She smiles, leans back. “C’mere.”

Tashi sits against the headboard, pulls you so your back is against her chest. Art slots in between your thighs with no instruction. He tugs down your shorts and panties at once, and your face burns as your pussy is exposed to both of them.

“Look how pretty she is, Art,” Tashi says. She’s holding your thighs apart, keeping you spread open for them. Her lips brush against your jaw and you sigh contentedly. “Give her a kiss.”

Art obeys easily, and his mouth meets your cunt like he’s making out with it. Slow laps of his tongue through your slit, tasting how wet you’d gotten from kissing them. He moans softly, nuzzles closer.

Your eyes flutter, rolling back as your body melts into the new sensation— lips and tongue, the warmth and wetness and pressure. It’s better than your own fingers, or the cheap vibrator you’d gotten at the mall.

You squeeze Tashi’s hand when his lips seal around your clit, nails digging into her palm, forming tiny crescents. “See?” Tashi says. “He’ll do whatever you want, you just have to make him.”

Art’s tongue dips inside of your entrance, making you moan. Tashi relishes in it— in seeing you experience all of it for the first time. It wasn’t fair, she decided, that she’d been left out from the beginning.

“Use your fingers,” Tashi instructs. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Art, you should just do it right the first time.”

He moans pathetically against your cunt as she tangles her fingers in his blond curls. You’re so wet that your body accepts his finger easily, like it belongs. He thrusts it slowly, curled just enough to brush against your sweet spot.

He’s grinding against the bed— desperate, needy. His brow is furrowed in concentration, desperate to make you cum so he can be rewarded and praised. He slips a second finger alongside the first, alternates between suckling on your clit and teasing it with soft licks.

You’re so easy to get worked up, especially when you’re sandwiched between Tashi and Art. Neither of them are surprised when you cum, hard and fast, clenching around Art’s fingers, grinding against his face.

Embarrassment and arousal mingle warm in your belly at the sight of Art’s face— all slick and wet. He leans in, kisses Tashi, then kisses you. He undresses while you’re coming down from it, wanting the two of you to lave him with attention, to take care of the aching need between his legs.

That’s not what he’s there for.

Tashi pushes him down onto his back, pins him there with nothing more than a look. He lays there trying to be patient, with his cock hard and resting against his stomach. You see it twitch as she peels off your shirt and your bra, throws her own shirt across the room.

Art watches in eager anticipation as Tashi guides you to straddle him, your wet cunt hovering right over where he wants it. His head falls back against Tashi’s pillows.

“Patrick’s going to fucking kill me,” Art groans.

“Why? She’s not fucking you,” Tashi said firmly. “You’re just going to lay there and be a prop. Be a good boy and lay still.”

His chest heaves as Tashi settles behind you, pressing her body against yours. “Alright, just move with my hands, okay? I’ll show you what boys like.”

You off wordlessly as she starts guiding your hips in slow, grinding motions. Art whines beneath you, as each slow pass of your hips makes your pussy slide along the line of his cock. His head falls back, and he tries and fails to buck up against you with his hips pinned under your and Tashi’s weight.

She guides your hips in slow circles and you whine at the same time as Art. “See?” She asks. You nod, head falling back against her shoulder. “All you need to turn his brain into mush is right here.”

Soon, the pressure of her hands on you is second to instinct— she lets her hands move up your body to squeeze and cup your tits. You turn, letting her lick into your mouth, relishing in the drag of her tongue against yours.

“Can you cum like this?” She breathes into your mouth. “Just using him like a plaything?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know,” you admit.

She just smiles against your lips, leans in for another hungry kiss. “Try.”

She guides your hand to the middle of his chest, giving you more purchase. The new angle makes you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your sensitive clit rubs against him.

“Good, keep going like that.” You almost whine at the loss of her warm behind you as she moves to sit against the wall. The perfect view of you and Art, both submitting to her whims. The sight of her with a hand between her thighs, watching you with a hungry, unabashed desire makes heat pool in your belly. Her fingers circle her clit with the skill of someone who knows exactly how to get what she needs in all things. “Look at him, not me.”

Art’s a fucking mess— red down to his chest, panting and whining beneath you. Without Tashi pinning his legs, he’s able to grind up against you, to seek that friction. Moans tumble past his full lips, and god, he looks so pretty when he’s pinned beneath you for once.

When you cum, it’s with panting moans and trembling thighs. Tashi finishes at the sight, of you— grinding down against the blond, who’s just lying there and taking it. Tashi rubs your back as you come down, smiling like she’d just coached you to victory.

You move off of Art and he’s still hard, still wanting. Pouting at the loss of the warm, slick pressure on his lap.

“Okay, you can go,” Tashi tells Art, with a soft pat against his cheek. He groans, chest still heaving, pouting. Tashi sighs. “You did your job, Art. Thank you.”

You watch him redress, obviously hard in his athletic shorts. He looks back, like he’s checking if Tashi’s going to change her mind (she doesn’t).

When he’s gone, she kisses you again, easing you onto your back, straddling your lap as she grinds her wet pussy against your thigh. “You’re such a good little student,” she praises against your lips. “No wonder they like you so much.”

tashi/patrick vignette next and they will match each others freak trust 🫶

[icemansaviators]

Hey Admiral

My friend and I were talking about a scenario like this and I decided to write a little something for it. Since Cyclone looks up to Ice so much this would be hilarious to see play out 😂

CYCLONE DOESNT REALIZE ICE AND MAV ARE MARRIED.

Cyclone had it up to HERE with Maverick, constantly correcting him and becoming quite irritable with his “teaching methods” as he called them.

Why on earth a man as revered as the legendary Iceman would request a man as reckless and untamed as Maverick to teach the top pilots in the world at TOP GUN OF ALL PLACES! For what he is sure would be one of the most dangerous, high enemy contact level mission any of these pilots would ever experience in their lives was beyond him.

���Admiral” Ice spoke, taking a seat across from him, Beau stood at attention as the COMPACFLT seated himself before him.

“Evening sir” he spoke, militant as ever.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure” Ice waved a waitress over, grabbing a glass of his classic vodka on the rocks as Cyclone opted for a brandy.

“About Maverick…”

The warm chuckle that spread throughout the blonde, now graying, Admirals chest stopped the three star in his tracks.

“My apologies sir, I wasn’t intending to be comical”

“No Beau it’s not that” Ice took a gentle sip from his drink, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It’s just that if I had a dollar for everytime one of these dinners or meetings began with ‘so about Maverick’ I could have retired 10 years ago and have two Mercedes in my driveway”

Beau looked at his hands momentarily, unsure of what to say. Soon Tom continued.

“Anyways, I digress, what did he do this time”

Ices softer stare met his colleagues as he took another drink, before looking down at the menu on the soft white table cloth.

“His training methods for the Dagger squadron are….interesting to say the least, unorthodox is the better term.”

“Oh? Do tell”

“For instance, they were supposed to be practicing formations for the bombing run yesterday and I found them playing on the beach like children”

“Hm” Ice grunted softly, paying attention as the waitress came by again, interrupting them.

“Good evening sir” she spoke with a small smile at Tom. “Your usual sir?” Tom nodded

“Thank you Katherine, Beau? Care to order?”

Cyclone didn’t think to hard as to why Ice knew this woman, and frequented this place often enough to have established a ‘usual’. Ice was the COMPACFLT, he probably enjoyed some nicer expensive dining from time to time.

“No green eyes tonight?” She asked, and Tom shook his head. “No my dear, all buisness tonight”

She frowned slightly and put her hands on her hips. “Well darn, please tell him I said hello, I’ll go put your order in gentlemen.”

“I definitely will, Thank you my dear” Ice waved as she disappeared, rounding the corner.

Cyclone decided not to comment, first of all he and Ice were close but not so close as to ask questions about his love life. Let alone the fact that it was apparently another gentleman he often frequented this place with. Who was he to judge, since the DADT repeal and Ice becoming one of the most powerful men in the military, no one could say shit even if they had a mouthful.

“Apologies for the interruption, as you were saying?”

Beau cleared his throat. “Yes, sir, he completely ignored my hard deck perameters and is running these pilots through ridiculous exercises, we have less than a week to have them mission ready…”

Their conversation went on for a couple more hours as they ate, and as they both stood to leave Ices hand found Cyclones shoulder.

“I know Captain Mitchell can be a hard pill to swallow sometimes, but he’s a brilliant pilot, best the Navy has to offer, I’ve flown with him for many years, and he’s done many things I may not have understood, but he was always reliable, always had his head in the game and always made sure everyone, including me, made it back home safe. Be patient with him Admiral, give him a shot”

Cyclone huffed out in annoyance slightly, but let his shoulders fall. “Yes sir, I’ll do my best”

“Thanks Beau” Tom spoke, dropping the formalities. “And thank you for the company, but I’m a little past curfew and need to get home” Ice winked, Bidding him goodbye and getting in his car to head home.

—————————————————————————

The next day seemed even worse, Admiral Simpson was being driven up a wall, two seconds away from punching the brunette square in the face. If not for Ices encouragement he probably would have by now.

That evening he returned to the ready room to see, SHOCKER! EVERYONE WAS GONE!

Anger rose in his throat, he knew exactly where he was going.

Throwing his truck in park in perhaps the most aggressive way he could, the man, still clad in his khakis and medals, stormed in through the swinging saloon doors of the Hard deck, seeing all of his pilots and one infuriating Pete Mitchell drinking beers and playing rounds of pool.

Laughing, smiling and joking together, if he weren’t so angry he would have liked to admit that it even looked….fun.

“CAPTAIN MITCHELL!” He shouted. As if on cue the music came to a winding stop and all heads turned to look at him.

Pete not looking worried in the slightest.

“FRONT AND CENTER! NOW!”

Handing off his beer to Bradley with a nod, sharing a quiet word with him that couldn’t be made out clearly. He walked towards the angry, taller brunette. As the rest of the gang tentatively went back to playing pool, quietly, as if walking on eggshells.

“Admiral Simpson, sir” Maverick spoke. Smug grin on his face long gone and replaced with a tight line drawn between his lips.

“What in the hell is this?! We have a mission less

Than TWO WEEKS out that requires absolute focus! And before you try and brush this off as one of your bullshit ‘team building exercises’ just know I’m going to look forward to reporting this directly to admiral Kazansky! And-“

“Reporting what exactly to Admiral Kazansky?” A voice spoke, interrupting his statement, as the taller, angrier man turned to see the familiar face returning with two drinks in his hand.

Immediately straightening his posture and clearing his throat. He took in a very casually dressed Tom Kazansky.

“A-Admiral sir!”

“At ease Admiral, so what did Maverick do this time”

His eyes followed the movements of the slightly taller man, coming up to stand beside Pete, handing him a beer.

As Cyclone began to go into what he saw.

“Is that so Mitchell? Little old you did all that?” Ice threw his arm around Mavericks shoulder. Seeing the smug smile return to his lips.

“I can neither confirm or deny that statement” Maverick chuckled.

“My apologies on behalf of my husband Admiral, it seems he wasn’t aware of todays training layout”

Cyclones jaw may as well have been on the floor, throat tightening at a loss of words.

“H-husband sir?”

“Ah!” Ice almost looked surprised.

“How rude of me Admiral, I’d like to formally introduce you to my husband, Pete Mitchell-Kazansky, though for work purposes everyone still knows him by Mitchell.”

Just at this time Bradley walked up behind them.

“Hey dad, pops” he squeezed both of their shoulders and looked at Admiral Simpson. “Admiral”

“Lieutenant” he scoffed in return. Still attempting to process all of this new information.

“Wait so, at the restaurant, the waitress, green eyes is-“

“The one and only” maverick smirked, leaning up to give his husband a kiss on the cheek.

“Now Admiral, if you don’t mind we’d like to get back to our game, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.” Ice invited, gesturing his head towards the rest of the squad.

Cyclones mouth open and closed again. Unsure of what to do next.

“Cmon Sir, first rounds on me, loosen up a little” Bradley smiled, eyes bright and hopeful. As Cyclone turned to the rest of the team, smiling at him as well.

“I guess one drink couldn’t hurt….but I’m kicking your ass at a game of pool first Bradshaw”

As the two men walked back towards the pool tables, newly acquired beers in hand and jokes being flung back and fourth. Maverick pulled ice against his side by his waist. Smiling up at him with big green eyes, clinking his beer against the taller man’s glass.

“This is going to be fun” he smiled.

“Couldn’t agree more darling”

[literaila]

stay

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you're in denial (no you're not)

warnings: pining, no plot

a/n: i had to give you a little look at what they do when they're alone

last part | next part

*

year two.

“what?” satoru asks, his voice blurred in the haze you're thinking in. 

honestly, you haven't been looking at him for that long. 

you've only been watching his arms as they move across the sink, veins drenched in water, hands scrubbing at a pot that you've made his responsibility. 

you've only been thinking about him for the past five years. the way his mouth moves when he's focused, the subtle curve of his jaw from this angle. 

and you're only staring now because you don't want him to mess up the kitchen. god knows how much it's worth. 

you shake your head, subtle grin disappearing automatically. “hmm?” 

“you’re staring at me.” 

you blink. “oh. sorry.” 

you and him both know that there's no denying it. 

“and you think i’m spacey,” satoru mutters, turning to you with his arms crossed, a smirk adorning his lips. apparently, he’s perfected his dad stance. “what do you want?” 

“what?" you look away, for one moment, when your heart feels a bit warm, then back to him. "why would i want something?” 

“that’s what tsumiki does when she wants something.” 

“well, unlike tsumiki, i’m not a child, so…” 

“i beg to differ,” satoru leans towards you, raising a brow. “what are you? thirteen?” 

he's different like this--when he knows that you're paying attention. 

so ridiculously stupid that you can't look away from him. 

“you are a single year older,” you tell him, “and i had to teach you how to do the dishes. our age gap is easily filled by my years of experience—“ 

“blah blah blah,” satoru interrupts, rolling his eyes, “hard work, torture, bills to pay. we get it.” 

you shrug, lip twitching. “you started it.” 

“by being born?” satoru asks, fluttering his eyelashes, trying his hand at flirting with you. 

unfortunately, he's dreadful at it. even with his waggling eyebrows and throat when he swallows. 

“oh my god,” you put a hand to your chest, mock shocked. “did i forget to become clan head the second i was born? my bad.” 

“seriously. slacker.” 

you roll your eyes.

then you turn to the counter again, messing with a stack of bills satoru has left there. you're probably going to be the one to deal with them anyway. 

it's been twenty minutes since you put the kids to bed--frowning at satoru when he swore that they'd already brushed their teeth (they hadn't)--and you've already lost sight of getting out of his house. 

some small part of you wants to stay, just so you can sneak some more glances at satoru.

“why are you staring at me?” he asks, nudging your arm with his hand. "get lost in my eyes?" 

you scoff. “i just zoned out, satoru.” 

“looking right at my face?” 

you smile deviously, reaching a hand out to trail a finger across his cupids bow. “i was contemplating the different plastic surgeries that could improve you.” 

satoru does nothing to push away your hand, but you snap it away when you feel him shiver. 

“please," he frowns. "we both know there’s no room for improvement.” 

you raise your brows. he says it more like a question than a statement, so you keep the same teasing smile on your face. 

“don’t be mean,” he says, pouting. 

“sorry.” 

“no, you’re not.” 

your smile brightens and you walk towards the door--listening to his heavy footsteps as he follows--and reach towards the hook for your coat.

you better leave before he convinces you to touch him again with nothing but his eyes.

“where are you going?” satoru continues pouting. 

“home? the kids are asleep.” 

he huffs. “but i’m not.” 

“do you need me to tuck you in?” 

“what if i do?” 

“tough luck, satoru," you shove his hand away from where it grabs your jacket. 

“c’mon,” he says, pulling at your wrist instead. “stay a little bit longer. let’s talk.” 

“all you ever want to talk about is digimon," you answer, rolling your eyes. 

you deny the fact that you'd probably listen to him talk about anything, just to hear the slight drawl in his throat or the teasing in his voice. 

“well, duh.” 

“and i don’t understand a single thing you say.” 

satoru pulls you towards him, even when you dig your heels into the floor. “you think after five years you’d trust me enough to take one of my recommendations," he says, chiding you. like he's the most trustworthy person you've ever met. 

like you might trust him with your life (you would). 

“last time i trusted any of your recommendations i almost got kicked out of school," you finally pull away, smoothing out your sleeves to put your jacket on. 

“first of all, that was your idea—“ 

“i was kidding.” 

“and i was just trying to cheer you up," his hands gesture to you, obviously, "plus yaga didn’t even care that much. it’s not like we crashed the car. he just had to threaten us or he would’ve gotten fired.”

you roll your eyes, zipping up your jacket. 

“stay,” satoru whines. “i get lonely when you’re not here.” 

“that’s because you’re supposed to be asleep.” 

“i can't sleep without you.” 

you scoff. “we’ve slept in the same room twice.” 

neither one of you dares to mention the several nights you’ve spent together on the couch or the brief moments when you wake up in the morning and realize who you’re clinging to. those are brief lapses in judgment. nothing more. 

“third times the charm,” satoru says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

despite his age, he is still a teenage boy. 

the same one you've liked since you were fifteen. 

“goodnight, satoru," you whisper, turning around. 

“don’t you get lonely in your apartment all alone?” he asks, almost pleading, spinning you around again from the hem of your jacket. “what if you have a nightmare?” 

because satoru has ever been concerned about a single thing that happens to you. 

you roll your eyes. “i wake up, like an adult, and remember that it’s not real.” 

satoru raises a brow. 

“seriously, it’s late. i need to go before—“ 

“stay.” 

“we’ve talked about this.”

“no. i make a suggestion, and you don’t listen.” 

“because i already know what you’re going to say.” 

“no, you don’t.” 

“‘c’mon, y/n, i have a bedroom just for you. it can even be mine if you want.’” 

“i don’t sound like that," he says frowning. though how could he deny the obvious?

“satoru, we need space--" more like you need space from him. several decades of space, just to catch your breath. "i can't spend every waking moment with you. i have a life.” 

“yeah, me.” 

you laugh, shaking your head (he's not wrong).

“just for tonight?” 

“no.” 

“just for an hour? what if one of them wakes up? you know i don’t know what to do," he says, very convincingly. his voice is quiet like he knows some sudden movements will scare you away. 

you pretend to pause, humming. “send them back to their rooms…?”

“please," he begs you, so close that his breath is almost yours. 

“no.” 

“we never get alone time anymore,” he pouts, “i miss you.” 

you know that he's using this to his advantage. like he's sure that his quiet voice and soft mouth will get you to break, will get you to stay here like you already want to. 

but you refuse. 

“stop.” 

“and it’s cold. you don’t want to go home yet," he acts like he can read your mind. 

“i promise you that i do," you reassure him, taking a step back. satoru only follows. 

“we can watch a movie or something," he answers like you've already agreed to this. "i saw a trailer for this dumb comedy and it looks—“ 

you groan. 

“what if i promise to sit on the other side of the couch?” he bargains.

“no," you frown, "you’re a liar.” 

“what if i let you pick the movie?” 

“no.” 

“what if i pay you to stay?" 

you flick his forehead. “are you kidding?” 

“please,” he repeats, softly, leaning even closer. “you don’t have to stay for long…” 

and it reminds you of every other time you've felt like your heart has disappeared. like your head has been eradicated by his low voice and his sparkling eyes. 

it feels like being the same teenager you might still be, hoping that something will come from his pleading. from yours, however unspoken. 

and you almost break, almost push him so far away--

but then there’s a tiny cough. and a sniffle. “y/n?” a voice asks, so soft you almost can't hear it over the sound of satoru’s ego. 

over the sound of your own beating heart. 

satoru smiles like he planned this all along. 

you sigh. “an hour,” you tell him, sternly. 

he only smiles, slinging an arm around your shoulder, spinning you both towards tsumiki. 

* 

you don’t say a thing when you wake up the next morning, sweat staining your neck, legs tangled in much longer ones. 

your head is pounding from a night spent on the couch. from so many hours spent laughing at satoru, at the stupid things he says. 

and he’s already looking at you like he could sense this moment coming. 

like he can see beyond you, into your soul. into the very wanting you're sure is on your face. 

you don’t say anything as you stare back into his eyes.

this is the one moment where he’s not allowed to comment on it. to make fun of you for your small smile, or laugh at your bed head. 

this moment is just for the two of you. the rest of the world can disappear, right now. every terrifying thing, every horrible mistake, completely eradicated by the sound of satoru's heart, his eyelashes as they flutter open and closed. 

you breathe in, almost about to say something. to break this thing before it can form. 

and then you hear something banging in the kitchen, and it’s time to get up. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[reidsdimples]

Confetti 🎉

Spencer Reid x bau!Reader

Just cute 💝

“It’s not too much! How could it be too much?!” Penelope exclaims as she tosses confetti onto and around Spence’s desk.

You frown, especially because she picked the tiny confetti that finds its way into everything. Spencer will hate it.

“You just wanna torture him,” you shake your head and grin.

“You remember that time he filled my office drawer with those spring loaded snakes? Nearly gave me a heart attack! He gets what he deserves in the form of too much confetti love,” she quips as she dumps the smaller confetti into his drawer.

“Baby girl, you have your own office. We’ll never hear the end of what you’re doing to the kid,” Derek cuts in and drapes an arm over her shoulder.

“Shh! He’ll be here any minute!” Penelope says.

“Lights out, he’s in the elevator,” Hotch says more stoically.

The surprise party probably could have happened anywhere. But he would be least expecting it in the bullpen and as a result of a late night text from Hotch.

You crouch down and fiver nervously with the horn noise maker thing. Emily drags JJ behind a desk as the elevator dings open.

Spence pauses before opening the glass door, suspicion painted over his soft features. He glances through the glass briefly, furrows his eyebrows like he does when he’s thinking, and sighs.

“He’s suspicious,” you whisper to Penelope who swats your arm.

Just then Rossi exits the elevator. Your saving grace and plan B in case he decided to back out.

“I wonder what Hotch has for us,” he smiles knowingly at Spence before ushering him through the glass door. You can tell he so wanted to back out.

“SURPRISE!” The team jumps out with a roar of noise makers and clapping.

“Happy birthday Spence!”

“Happy birthday kid!”

An onslaught of attention is turned towards him and he sweetly smiles and takes it all in.

“Wow I didn’t expect this,” he lies. “Thanks everyone!”

“Happy birthday, you,” you nudge him sweetly. His face lights up when you talk to him, causing your heart to flutter.

You’re starting to think this crush isn’t just one sided. You hope, anyway.

Spencer kind of took you under his wing when you arrived at the BAU six months ago.

“It’s everywhere!” Spencer exclaimes upon inspecting his desk and drawers.

The team collectively points at Penelope who smiles wide with pride.

“That’ll teach you to put spring loaded critters in my desk!” She teases.

Spencer bites his lip and nods in a touchè manner and you find yourself smiling almost too hard. His cheeks are reddened and it always so cute.

Pizza is delivered and cake is cut while everyone socializes. You see that Spence occasionally turns his attention to picking confetti off of his desk, it seems to really bother him.

While he and JJ converse with Rossi, you decide to start emptying his drawers so you can dump the confetti out. It doesn’t take very long, mostly folders and a few fidget toys are scattered within them.

You’re dumping out the second drawer when he appears.

“What are you doing?” He asks and sits on the edge of the desk.

“It seemed to really bother you,” you answer as you tried the contents of his drawer.

“I’m pushing the meeting to ten am tomorrow, go home and get some sleep!” Hotch instructs the team abruptly. It was one am so there was a collective sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Spence smiles. “I can do the rest tomorrow.”

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind,” you insist. “Go home and get some sleep. It won’t take long.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Emily hugs you and then JJ.

“See you guys!” You wave them off.

Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Penelope leave in tandem. Penelope offered to help you clean the confetti but you told her to go home, she had already decorated the entire office. You could clean it up.

“Shouldn’t you be going,” you point to the elevator closing on the rest of the team.

“No I’m going to help. You can’t get rid of me so don’t even try,” Spence teases you playfully.

You huff a small laugh, smiling to yourself as you shake your head. He’s so cute.

“Huh?” Spence says suddenly. Wait, did I murmur something?

“What?” You turn to him, flustered.

“I swear you said ‘so cute,’” he tilts his head as he pops a balloon in his hand. You jump at the sound.

“I- uh- no,” you stammer. Your cheeks heat which is a dead give away.

“You’re stuttering, your breathing increased, your face is red… you’re lying,” he seems amused.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” You slap his arm with an embarrassed smile. You rush past him back to his desk to keep cleaning.

The next few minutes drag on awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to say next. Spence seemingly having little experience in the flirting department.

“Okay fine, I thought it was cute that you insisted on staying and helping despite the mess driving you crazy,” you cross your arms and lean against the wall.

You watch him closely as he turns his head toward you from where he’s leaning over his desk. His long hair and sharp jaw line causes your heart to skip a beat. His brown eyes meet yours as he articulates what exactly he’s going to say.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, standing to his full height with all of his attention on you. No I think you’re fucking drop dead sexy but sure cute works. A small grin plays in his lips as he awaits your response.

“It’s a crush, really a small crush. And I’m sorry. It’s so inappropriate. I shouldn’t have said anything,” you ramble off and turn away from him.

Something about admitting this makes him intimidating. Especially because he’s walking towards you, fixated and silent. The gears turning in his big giant brain and you have no idea what he’s thinking.

“I like you too,” his voice comes out hoarse, a near whisper and he’s right behind you.

You turn back towards him as he pushes his hair back, he swallows hard, his face and neck now colored pink.

He’s nervous, disheveled, adorable.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly, just a small kiss. It shocks him, his eyes widening. His tongue runs across his bottom lip and then he’s grabbing your face in his hands.

He kisses you softly, sweetly. Your hands run down his arms and tangle into his shirt. You’re against the wall and his kissing you slowly, as though to take in and taste you completely. His soft lips taste better than you could have imagined as you push your tongue out to find his.

Shit.

The moment goes on in perfect passionate kissing and touching. His hands find your waist, your hips, your lower back, and your body comes alive for him. Small breathy sounds escape as you both fight for air and dominance in the kiss.

Finally you break it, pulling back and looking up at him. His lips are slightly swollen now, his pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from your hands.

“Happy Birthday, Dr. Reid,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again.

[kichikichiko]

Hi! Can you write the demon brothers with little sister reader? The reader is the 8th of the family. It must be so cute since all the brothers will care so much for their only little sister.

Our little Angel in Hell

This is so cute wtf 😭 Sorry for being so late anon Ive been busy with stuff and only got the motivation do write it now! Hope you enjoy ❤️ Synopsis: HC of the 7 demon brothers with their only sister after Lilith (who's younger than them all) Pairing: PLATONIC OLDER BROTHER! Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub and Belphegor & lil sister! reader Note: Nicknames (Dove : lucy | Goldie: Mammon | Shellfish: Levi | Angel: Asmo | Rose: Satan | Hamster: Beel | Moonshine : Belphie ) CW: I PUT A LIL CAMEO OF MY OBEY ME OC "Kojika" (Asmodeus' part only) IN HERE FOR FUNSIES BUT SHE DOES NOT HAVE ANY EFFECT TO THE STORY AT ALL 🤠 Platonic siblinghood, fluff, hc, not proofread, nothing else!! 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

Your brothers love you DEARLY. At this rate, "Love" is already an understatement. They would do anything for you and spoil you rotten. You want plushies? Food? Books? Make up? A sacrifical human for a ritual (/j) they'd to it all for YOU.

After losing Lilith, not only did you take it hard but they did as well. Not wanting to lose their only remaining sister, they've become more over protective.

LUCIFER

♤ As the eldest sibling and the head of the family, it is to no surprise that he holds the most composure out of the brothers.

♤ Around his other brothers he appears as "harsh" (but they all know he just cares for them) but around you, he doesnt even try to look stern. Everytime he looks at you his gaze softens and he smiles slightly

♤ "Mammon I'm taking away your credit card privellages" Lucifer sighs while taking away Mammon's credit card for the 5th time this month.

"Give it back Lucifer! An auction for this awesome gold car figure is coming out TOMORROW I NEED IT!" The white hair demon groaned.

You walked into the scene with a smile "Hi Lucy, is it okay if I get this thing on sale tomorrow? Ive been waiting for it to come out for a while now."

Lucifer's frowned expression turned soft in an instant and he gave you a nod "of course, just don't spend too much."

"OH FUCK YOU LUCIFER" Mammon screamed.

♤ If hypothetically he doesnt allow you to get something, instead of giving you a glare, he pats your head and shakes his head a little "Sorry Dove, but not today. We can get it another time okay?"

MAMMON

◇ Mammon is the greediest among his 7 siblings. He is the embodiment of the deadly sin, greed anyways.

◇ He HATES sharing and he doesnt hide that, but with you? He is more lenient.

◇ Don't get me wrong, he hesitates and tells you no sometimes, but other times if not most times, he is more willing to give you something or lend you something, albeit with his snarky/ stuck up personality 😭.

◇ youve been staring at a certain display case everytime you and Mammon pass by, and the yellowed eye demon couldnt help but notice it.

◇ At first he wanted to ignore it, but seeing at your longing/ awed gaze he folded.

◇ "Oi Goldie, you want that?" He pointed to the item on the display case, his hand on his hip trying to act tough and unbothered.

"Uhm.. yes but I don't have any mo-"

Mammon cut you off and walks into the store. "C'mon let's go get it."

LEVIATHAN

♧ Levi loves games, he's always cooped up in his room and rarely comes out.

♧ When he plays a multiplayer game, everyone knows how competitive this demon can get

♧ So to spare themselves from the death glares and the not so PG 13 name calling, they avoid playing him... well unless they truly wanna pick a fight with him.

♧ When you play games with him though, he's a completely different person.

♧ He's patient and kind when teaching you the basics

♧ During your first few games, he'd allow himself to take the loss

♧ He wont admit it, but he loves to see the way your eyes shine and how youre mpre determined

♧ This way, you'll play the game longer and spend more time with Levi

♧ [ROUND 1: PLAYER 2 WINS]

Your eyes shine and you smiled widely "YAY I WON! Beat that Levi! I just started the game and I won against you on. The. First. Try!"

Levi rolled his eyes and smirked "Don't get too cocky Shellfish, I might just beat your ass in the next round"

"Bring it on big bro" You grinned, holding the controller tightly.

ASMODEUS

♡ He's aware you've lost the only female influence in your life (Lilith)

♡ you being surrounded by so many masculine energy worries Asmo

♡ Not wanting you to lose your feminine side, he decided to take on the role of being your main "female influence" in your life.

♡ He is the perfect man for the job

♡ He will take you out for shopping, to the salon, kareoke, photo booths, manicures and pedicures, spas. You name it he'll do it

♡ He's even be the one you go to for sex ed/ advice bc.. well come on

♡ If youre into none of that that's fine too, he'll be your irl diary and listen to whatever you have to say... even hot boiling tea you cant keep to yourself😁

♡ "Asmo!! Are you free?" You opened the door to his room with a smile

Your brother looks at you through his mirror as he was doing his skincare "Yes sort of. Why?"

Your smile turned into a grin as you closed the door behind him and jumped onto his bed "I've got delicious tea"

Seeing your hands on your cheeks and your facial expression made Asmodeus return the grin "Oh yeah? Is it piping hot tea?" Finally facing you as he asked

"Piping.HOT!" You responded unable to contain your excitement "Miss Kojika was finally caught going out with Simeon"

"No way you better not be kidding Angel. Wasn't she just complaining about not liking Angels before?"

"Yeah but you see the way her cheeks turn pink at the MENTION of the Angel Simeon" you made sure to remind him.

♡ The conversation went on for hours, and both you and your brother are happy to have someone to talk to like this.

SATAN

□ Somewhat simillar to his older brother Levi. He gets impatient and is angry quite often, especially at the mention of Lucifer.

□ His way of escape is through his love of cats OR his abode, his sanctuary: his personal library.

□ During the times he disappears, it's a sign that he does not want to be bothered by anyone. And the only one who can bother him is you.

□ He wont exactly call it "bothering" when it comes to you, because he knows you have good intentions and only want to help him.

□ Especially if he just came out of Lucifers office after a heated argument

□ You were in the kitchen when you heard the door to Lucifer's office being slammed shut, followed along with heavy footsteps stomping away. You knew instantly that it was Satan's footstep.

Without wasting another second, you finished up the dishes and went straight to the hallway leading to his abode.

"Satan?" You knocked. "It's me, (name)"

After a few seconds, you heard a muffled "come in" and you twisted the door knob open. "I heard you walking out of Lucifer's office before."

Both you and Satan knows that he didnt "walk out" but you both decided to not correct it.

"Just another fight" he answered quickly while reading a book. "Same as always."

Slowly walking towards him, you took a seat beside him and smiled softly "Dont listen to him. You know he can make no sense sometimes... most of the times" you shruged. "Besides Im here for you. Whaddya say we do something fun?"

Satan's stern face turned soft, and when he made eye contact with you, he smiled "Sure. Thank you, Little Rose."

□ You've got his back, and he's got yours.

BEELZEBUB

♤ the hungriest brother. He just never stops eating.

♤ Whenever anyone catches Beel, he's always got something in his hands to munch on.

♤ And sometimes he's not willing to share his food.

♤ Whenever you ask though he's willing to give you a bite or 2. Hell maybe even give you the whole darn thing if he sees you TRULY enjoying the food.

♤ "Wow you seem to REALLY like the snack more than I do, Hamster..." he'd joke, mouth still full.

♤ Whenever youre feeling hungry he'd take the time out of his day to cook you (and him) some food.

♤ When he's feeling experimental and want to try a new recepie, he'd call you down to try his food and if you like it he smiles earnestly.

♤ Nothing makes Beel more happy (other than food) than seeing you enjoy his cooking.

♤ Even if you ask for it or not, he starts cooking for you more often. It's his love language and you dont seem to mind it. Cooking is a tedious job indeed and you appreciate your brother's efforts to keep your tummy full and happy.

♤ VICE VERSA! You love to bake and cook for your brothers.

♤ If you dont have the talent for either, Beel will be the first gobble up your food and give you a big thumbs up in approval. While the rest of your brothers have a hard time even swallowing the first bite

♤ Beel appreciates your effort and doesnt want you to become disheartened.

♤ But next time he'll supervise you in the kitchen and give you some tips and tricks

BELPHEGOR

♧ SILLY GUYYY

♧ You and Belphie are both the younger siblings (Beel as well but hes regarded as older than Belphie)

♧ And Youngest tend to stick together!

♧ You like having sleepovers, even though its a little bit of a silly ideas because you already live in the same estate as your brothers.

♧ Theyre usually busy so whenever you want this specific want of yours to be endulged you always go to Belphie.

♧ and he never says no to sleeping.

♧ With Belphie you both like to build tent fords together and watch movies together while eating popcord (that you both made sure Beel does not see nor smell because he'll pounce on the both of you before you have the chance to walk out of the kitchen)

♧ Other times you both would go online to buy matching onsies for your sleepover

♧ You both do this so often you end up having a closet full of matching onsies together.

♧ Sleeping with Belphie is indeed very relaxing. And Belphie likes having you around especially

♧ Usually the avatar of sloth put on a pair of Pyjamas and goes to sleep instantly, however with you around, he'll make the effort to put on essential oils, ambiance (if you'd like) and night lights 🤍🤍

♧ "Wow Belphie you put a lot of effort for the sleepover today!" You smiled looking at his room in awe

Belphie smiled and yawned "Of course, anything for you Moonshine. I want you to be as comfortable as possible."

♧ Safe to say you both will sleep in to the point your other brothers will have to drag you both out of bed to start the day

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

Masterlist

Requesting

[veraarora]

The line I fall for

Previous: Prologue

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Chapter 1

Five Hargreeves woke up early as usual. The cold air of his bedroom hit him in the face as soon as he swept out of the warm covers. The outside world was still dark and quiet, exactly as he preferred it. The streets had been covered in snow for the past few weeks, and that made the self-convincing to leave his house really hard, at least harder than usual.

He made his usual expensive black coffee — one of the few luxuries in his apartment. He had the money, sure, but never felt the need to spend it. This place didn’t feel like home anyway. If anything ever did, it was probably that little apocalyptic nest back in the day.

So why bother?

A few good suits, some alcohol, caffeine — that was enough.

Five combed his hair and brushed his teeth, taking a few lazy steps to his kitchen, browsing through some documents on his table.

He still hated being powerless.

Four years, and he hadn’t gotten used to it.

For the first few months, before his brain finally made some sense of it, he tried to automatically blink at least two times a day. It was the same as walking or breathing to him, and now it was gone.

He told everyone it’s fine, that he’s over it… he had enough time to get over it, didn’t he?

And sure, his siblings had moved on. So why couldn’t he?

Maybe they never needed their powers the way he did. He wasn’t useless without them — but with them, he was the best. And he knew it.

Still, there was nothing he could do. He’d tried everything.

So now, all that was left was learning how to live without them.

Living his life unfortunately meant maniacally researching anything about the Commission and their suspected ongoing existence. He knew he was right, he felt it, and maybe he was going crazy, but sometimes he felt like his powers weren’t entirely gone either.

Five didn’t tell that to any of his siblings. They would obviously accuse him of being out of his mind, and they wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

Later that day — it was Thursday — he had to meet up with his siblings due to their so-called family meetings. Let’s just say he didn’t even bother to argue with them and just sucked it up.

The meetings usually took place at Diego and Lila’s house. Today was no different. On the way, he stopped for some snacks to give to his nephew and nieces. He parked his black sedan in his brother’s driveway and took a few breaths before getting out of the car. He did so after a few more breaths, and he was immediately attacked by Klaus’s energetic greetings.

“Well hello, Cinco. I actually thought you wouldn’t show up anymore after your previous outburst with our sweet sister-in-law,” Klaus said while giggling between his words. Five struggled a bit to get him out of his personal space and frowned, not saying a word as he smoothed his shirt.

“What’s up with you?” Klaus said after noticing that Five was a bit more strange and grumpy than usual.

“Nothing,” Five said coldly and just knocked on the door. The door opened, and at first, it didn’t seem like anyone was behind it — until he looked down. The little girl in the yellow dress looked up at him as he picked her up.

“Where’s your dad, Coco?” Five said as he walked indoors, Klaus behind him.

She just signaled that she didn’t know and leaned into Five’s shoulder. Diego was sitting in the kitchen, and Five handed him Coco.

“You should teach your kids not to open the door. What if I was a killer?”

“You are a killer, bro.” Five cringed over himself a bit, but it was true.

“Yeah.” He sat and breathed out. “Where’s Lila?”

“You missed me that much? I bet our little fight got your dick hard.” She walked out of the kitchen.

“You wish, Lila.” This woman really got on his fucking nerves. God. He was already standing up, his blood boiling. Diego shoved him down before he managed to strangle her to death.

“Stop this, both of you. No one here is interested in this.” Diego looked at both of them, and Lila murmured something to herself.

Five sat back down, frowning at his brother’s wife once more.

The rest of his siblings arrived eventually, but he didn’t even know when. He felt stuck in his own mind. Something was about to happen real soon — he felt it.

He felt Diego’s sight on him. “What?”

“I don’t know, bro, but you’ve been chewing on that bread for the past five minutes.”

“Yeah, I’ve been savoring the taste of the dry carbs.”

“Can we not do this? It’s one dinner. One.”

“He’s brooding again. What paranoid conspiracy theory will it be this time? Is the moon gonna crash into us again?” Lila chuckled, stuffing herself with pie as one of her kids crawled next to her.

Five sighed and looked up at the ceiling while sipping on the disgusting cup of coffee. He then decided it would be better to just shut up for the rest of the dinner.

A couple of hours later, when he intended to sincerely leave without any of his siblings giving him the same old lecture for the fifth time, a hand stopped him by touching his shoulder. He turned to see Diego standing behind him with some stupid-ass look on his face that signaled he wouldn’t like this conversation.

“I meant what I said, Five.” Diego leaned on the door frame. The house was already quiet, and the only sounds were the TV and his wife and kids’ voices as she dragged them into the bathroom.

“Me too. I’m fine, seriously. You don’t have to worry,” Five nervously mumbled.

“Maybe it’s time to let it go, Five. Just try it.” Five already opened his mouth to protest, but Diego didn’t let him.

“Shh. Just think about it, Five. You can be happy. I know it.”

Five swallowed hard and nodded. Diego gave him a side hug before he closed the door and left Five alone in the cold night — just with his own thoughts.

Notes:

This is my first fanfiction ever, so I hope it’s readable! English isn’t my first language, but I spent a ridiculous amount of time editing — so everything should be right. If you spot any mistakes, don’t hesitate to let me know.

Thank you for stumbling across this. xoxo

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

Chapter 2

[edges-of-night]

Omg I'm like in love with ur blog rn 💕💕 I was wondering if you could do one where the reader comes from a culture that honors warriors and such (kinda like the dwarves)? And so the reader is basically very skilled with weaponry, fighting...etc

Thank you sm 💕

Thank you for your patience with this request – it was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Having traveled a lot, Aragorn is familiar with your culture, though he has never been as close to someone from it as you. Seeing your famed warrior skills in person surprises him quite a bit – in a good way. He is enamored with the way you carry yourself and your weapons and, most importantly, how you lack a taste for cruelty and instead embrace mercy. He never gets tired of telling you that; it’s a value you both share.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen has great respect for you, since she is familiar with your warrior culture through her noble schooling. That said, she is also quite determined to introduce you to the finer side of life – something that you were never comfortable with or had any experience in. After all, the folk back home frown upon elaborate gowns and indulgent balls – but Arwen doesn’t care about your clumsiness. She always has a big smile on her face when you practice dancing! ♡

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Up until meeting you, Boromir has thought your people belonged to the realm of legends and children’s stories. Imagine his surprise when his rescue from the Orc attack came in the form of such a legendary warrior, dashing, loud and proud! To top it all off, you do not see the big deal of the affair and act very casual around the starstruck soldier. One smile is enough to make Boromir realise he has fallen for what he would’ve deemed a fairytale just one day ago!

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

Elrond deeply appreciates how dutiful and tidy you are. You two are much alike in that regard. The kind Elf values your time together. That is the reason he sometimes wishes you were his little secret – he is quite tired of the ‘scandal’ your presence in Rivendell is to some particularly insular individuals. Whenever someone would dare to even insinuate bigotry toward you, Elrond would be the first to defend you – rather ardently, too, having served in war himself: “Let us see how you speak of them after having your life saved in a bloody battle!”

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

Éomer may always say that he admires a fellow warrior – but the truth is, he first needs to come to terms with the fact that you are much more skilled and experienced than him. That is difficult for him precisely because he could very well imagine you as his romantic partner, but he knows that a relationship with such envy would be hard. The solution to his distress is hand-to-hand combat, which you never particularly cared for since it is not regarded as important in your culture. But dear Éomer is more than eager to practice with you!

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

It is absolutely needless to say that Rohan’s Shieldmaiden would be head over heels for you – but anyway! Not only does Éowyn love how adamant and strong you are, she adores training and sparring together with you. Her enthusiasm for your warrior culture can be overwhelming at times. You sometimes need to remind her that you are more than that. For a change, Éowyn would then teach you the songs of Rohan or tries to cook with you!

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

Faramir adores you a lot. He would offer to be your squire and tend to your weapons, your armour, as well as your wounds after a fight. He would always make sure you never lost that spark in your eyes – he loves it too much! And while he is a very skilled archer and captain himself, he would never miss an opportunity to announce you to his enemies or bullies. He would also defend you ardently against anyone who criticises your perceived ‘lack of culture’ and give them an entire lecture of your people’s history and customs.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo would’ve never known you were real. He has read about your people in his books and even imagined himself as such a warrior when he was a child. To meet you in person delights him to no end – he has a bit of a celebrity crush on you! However, with his attention so sharp, Frodo wouldn’t fail to notice your distress in social interactions. But luckily, being both a gentleman and social butterfly, he can help you with that – maybe in turn for a show with your knives?

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Galadriel has understood that you were the perfect bodyguard for her very early on. Other Elves may frown upon that – a warrior brute, without any regard for royal protocol or knowledge of Elven culture? So close to the Lady of Light, all day and night? But Galadriel doesn’t care a bit. She delights in the stories you tell her and even shows an interest in your swords, though a sorceress as powerful as her would never need one herself. She never treats you disrespectfully and values your opinion.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf cares very little for your culture’s glorification of warfare and honour. He’s seen the negative fallout of such extremes and is thus wary around you at first. Once he understood that you had a sense of humour though, he’d tease you quietly or give a flippant comment about one of your culture’s idiosyncrasies. It’d all be in good faith – Gandalf knows of the importance of self-defense, for example. Still, he much prefers just drinking a cup of tea with you ♡

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

You could bond almost instantly with Gimli. You two speak the same language. There is, of course, an element of rivalry – especially when it comes to axes. That said, Gimli would absolutely fall head over heels for you after seeing just how skillfully and lightly you could handle hatchets and axes alike. Maybe you’d even “show him how it’s done” and then nonchalantly lean against the weapon, giving him a smirk – he’d melt on the spot!

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir would, as always, pretend very hard that he doesn’t care at all for your weapon skills, stealth and sense of duty, and instead even show great disgust for your perceived lack of etiquette and politeness. But the truth is that you are the most intriguing and alluring creature he has ever met! He has always aspired to your level of conscientiousness and combat skills. He’d never say that, of course… but he might just challenge you to a duel and see how it goes – fully aware he would never stand a chance against you!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas definitely has a thing for warrior types like you. He delights in your strength, skills and sense of duty. After all, he himself is an enthusiastic archer and wants to learn as much as he can from you. That said, he also teaches you some much needed levity – not every social interaction is a battle! Observing you amuses him a whole lot, but his smirk is never cruel. He is also the perfect partner to help you unwind after a stressful day of etiquette and polite smiles – he just gets you!

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry is a big fan of warriors. He yearns for your respect and affection – so much so that he’d greatly exaggerate his own combat skills to you, thinking he’d need to be just as martial as you to deserve your love. That is of course not the case, though you appreciate the effort he goes through. You would bond over combat training and philosophy alike. Merry is quick and eager to learn as much about your culture as possible.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin doesn’t know about the prejudice the old Hobbits have towards your people and thus treats you very differently than the others. He’d ask questions about war and honour that many would deem inappropriate. Even you yourself have to admit he is sometimes a bit overly eager. That said, Pippin would just as merrily introduce you to Hobbit customs, food and history. He’d also make a big point of the Tooks being “perhaps the most warrior-like Hobbits there ever were, honestly”, with an important look on his face, before breaking into laughter upon seeing you smile.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam leaves all the fighting stuff to you. He may dutifully separate the warrior and Hobbit cultures, but he really loves the dynamic you two share. He never shuts up about how proud your people must be of you, back home, seeing just how amazing of a fighter you are – sometimes that just means shooting an arrow to get a particularly red apple from a tree. To you, it’s a simple game, but Sam always kisses your cheek with great gratitude afterwards ♡

[mynameismckenziemae]

Hello!! I'm new to your blog and you're the first bob girlie I've met so far.

Anyway, I was talking to my partner (im bi) the other day and she said that it was very hot that I know stick shift and I was wondering what you think the top gun boys (+ maybe Natasha if you feel like serving the bi's again) would think if they discovered you knew how to drive manual (maybe they'd always driven you or you own an auto or something?)

Hey nonny hey.

Bob would always insist on driving, because he’s a gentleman and it gives you the chance to have a drink or two so he doesn’t know you can drive stick until you drop him off in your car before a deployment. He’d definitely find it hot.

Natasha would quietly offer to teach you when one of the guys makes an off handed comment about women never being able to drive a manual. Her brow quirks when you tell her you already know how. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Bradley finds out after a few too many drinks at the Hard Deck. “Sorry babe,” he’d kiss your cheek, tickling you with his mustache in the process, “Let me get us an Uber.”

“I’ll drive,” you offer, “if you’re okay with me driving the Bronco?”

“ ‘course, you can,” he frowns as he pats his pockets for the keys, “Shit, wait. For it’s a manual.”

“I know,” you laugh, like you haven’t ridden in it a thousand times, “I can drive stick.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier,” he breathes a few minutes later in the passenger seat. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t know you could…” Jake trails off as he nods to you shifting gears.

“Drive a manual?” You offer, continuing when he nods, “yeah, my dad taught me. I was bound and determined to have a Volkswagen Beetle for my first car.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle.

A few minutes go by before he asks, “Will you teach me how do it to sometime?”

[abbofff]

Cat Distribution System is a bitch

masterlist

 I found Annabeth on the Arena along some few other campers. She was following their every move as they sparred. I kinda feel intimidated with how serious she is now, but I need to get this from my chest.

  — Annabeth, can we talk for a second? — I ask.

  She turns around surprised and she frowns at me.

  — Do you need something? — She asked.

  — N-no. I just- Can we talk somewhere more private? — She looked back at the kids, some where still sparring and others were pretending to do so to hear the conversation.

— Keep training, I'll be back. — She comanded, and everyone sighed in annoyance.

She signaled me somewhere far enough so nobody could hear.

— Go on now. — She crossed her arms over her chestplate, still wary.

— I wanted to say sorry for lashing out on you. I was... troubled and I lost it. You don't deserve that and I'm very sorry. —

  I started to pick on my nails from the nervousness. I never was a person of many friends and if she didn't want it to be after everything, I couldn't blame her; but I can't let her think that I hate her.

  — I know how hard it can be. — Annabeth sighed. I always knew that she knew. She had told me that she was an all year long camper but that her father lives in San Francisco. She didn't tell me the exact reason of why she never visited, but I know it's hard for her.

— I forgive you. — Her eyes softened softened.

 

  — I didn't meant what I said. About us not being friends. You have not been anything but wonderful to me and I would love to call you my friend if you would allow me. — I don't dare to move closer. I'm afraid of making this more awkward for her.

  Annabeth's eyes softened even more and she cleared her throat.

  — That would be... nice. — She said.

  I couldn't but help smile and she smirked.

  — Great! Uhm, cool. —

  Ok, so, when I met Percy everything went with the flow and didn't exactly ask each other if we were friends, we just kinda knew. So this situation right here is eating me inside. I have never felt more awkward in my entire life.

  — The sparring lesson ended a while ago but I teach the ones that need some extra help for a while longer. Do you want to join so you don't fall behind? — Annabeth asked.

— Yes, please. Thank you, Annabeth. — I smiled.

  — I'm sure you'll want to use the sword you got there. — She said with her eyes locked in my belt loop.

  — How do you know... It doesn't matter. I wouldn't be surprised if you just have the aegis hidden somewhere. Percy has- PERCY IS DEMIGOD. Luke's showing him around camp right now. Can you believe we fought for absolutely nothing? Sorry for that again. Anyways, he has a pen-sword thingy that when I saw for the first time I thought I was going nuts because he pulverized our algebra teacher but thats alright because she was a Fury in disguise. Not that I approve going around slaying old ladys without knowing that they are monsters but- why are you looking at me with that face? Oh, im yapping. Got it. Sorry. — This is why I had no friends.

  She chuckled.

  — Don't worry. It's seems that you two got quite the story. — Annabeth smiled.

  — Yeah. You should really meet him. He's a sweet guy. I'm sure you guys could be friends. —

  Annabeth thought about it for a second.

  — We'll see. Now, let's go with the others. I'll assign you a partner for practice. — We walked to where she was standing before and she analyzed the campers.

Her sight stopped on a girl with a pink handled sword and a boy who was about to pass out from exhaustion.

— Gabriel, you can go. — Annabeth said.

The boy smiled and ran before she could change her mind.

— Silena, this is Ada Williams. Ada, this is Silena Beuregard, daughter of Aprodithe. —

— Nice to meet you. — Silena raised her hand for me to shake.

— Nice to meet you too. — I shook her hand and smiled.

— I want you two to spar, just to see what Ada needs work with. — Annabeth said.

Visually, she was what you would expect from a typical Aprodithe kid. Her pink manicure was perfect, not chipped and not too long or too short. She had light make up on, just some gloss, foundation and rimmel. She was very pretty.

Silena nodded and put on her stance.

  You would think that I would instinctively know how to perform a fighting stance but when Annabeth came closer, she just Shifu'ed my every move. Silena chuckled at my clumsiness.

Annabeth told us we were free to start and she stepped back to take a good view of everyone.

— I've heard about you. — Silena said when she charged at me, I blocked her and stepped back.

— What, exactly? — I ask her as she circled around me trying to catch me slacking.

She talked when our swords clashed.

— That you have been on two fights with Clarisse and then you two got locked in a cabin together for hours. — She said slyly, smirking.

I can even feel a blush creeping on my face. Shit. I can't think, I'm too flustered.

Silena took advantage of this, kicking my knee and pushing me on the ground. I fell on my butt and she lifted the tip op her sword to my face.

— Hey, not fair. — Silena rolled her eyes laughing and she offered her hand for me.

— Thought you would have it easy because im a Aphrodite kid? — She asked bitterly mocking.

— I thought you were just bad. How would I have it easy with an Aprodithe kid? Your mom led a war. I think she would have won it if anyone had listened to Cassandra, but that's Apollo's fault. —

Silena frowned and she chuckled bitterly.

— It really shows you are new around here. Gods change when the meaning of what they represent changes. You wouldn't think that the God of War still is a protector of women, do you? —

I thought of Clarisse and what she had said to me.

My mom told me the story of Ares, Hera's favorite son and possible one of the least horrible gods. He had been the defendant in the first murder trial in history because he had killed a son of Poseidon for raping his daughter, something no male God ever did for their daughters.

I thought that Clarisse put pressure on herself because she was his father's pride and joy but if Ares had lost that part of himself and all that was left was war I couldn’t blame Clarisse for her doings.

Silena took an answer out of my silence and went back to her fighting stance.

— Come on now, don't let me distract you just now. —

I gave a deep breath and got to the fighting stance Annabeth taught me. I charged first, the blow between our swords almost sends hers flying away. I was quick to hit her sword again, I wanted to hit the tip of it so it would move out of they way and I could touch her neck but it took me some tries because I kept hitting the middle of her sword. I finally land a precise blow and did as I had planed.

Selina raised her hands in surrender and rolled her eyes.

— I think I know who I'll assign the most difficult pegasus to next class. — Silena smirked and I chuckled.

— Thank you, Silena. Everyone can go prep for lunch now! — Annabeth said when she got closer, and every kid cheered and walked away.

— Bye, Ada. I'll see you around. — Silena said as she walked away.

— Bye, Silena. —

— You won't go just yet, Ada.— The Athena girl said when I sheathed my sword.  

  — I'll spar with you now. — She said.

  — Don't you think that it's embarrassing how many times I ended up in the infirmary these two days? I'm afraid Will is going to see me again and kick me out. — Annabeth rolled her eyes at me.

  — Your attacks are fast but not precise. You need to be ready for any monster attack. Not every monster is as flawed and dumb as a lestrygonian or a dracanae. —

  — How do you know I faced them? — Annabeth's body stiffened for a moment.

  — I know Grover, he told me what happened. — She didn't looked at my eyes.

  The memory of the name that Grover screamed to me last night appeared on my head. He was so worked up last night, like if it was a nightmare he has go trought before; because he did.

  — He was... your satyr protector? — I asked. I focused in sounding chill, I didn't want her to think I didn't trust her.

  — He was. —

  — Yeah, I guessed so. I get why you didn't told me, its ok. I know him, he's a nice person and Im glad that he was there for Percy. — I smirked at her.

  The corner of her lips curled up for a second until she cleared her throat.

  — Are you ready? — Annabeth got on her stance.

  — Not really. — I chuckled and she charged at me.

  I barely managed to dodge and block her attacks. They were almost perfect, she was aiming for my weak spots with precise and fast movements.

  On a risky move, I succeeded to make her drop her sword. I smiled with pride and lifted the tip my sword to point her neck (with a lot distance tho; I dont wanna kill somebody).

  — Never underestimate your opponents. — She said to quickly put on her Yankees cap and dissappear.

  — Annabeth, what the fuck? — I asked turning around trying to cover all of my sides.

  Of course her attacks with her sword were just "almost perfect", it's not her preferred weapon. She had a dagger at her hip all the time and now she was going to stab me with it.

  Annabeth is scary. Her steps were impossible for me to hear, hell, i couldn't even hear her armor moving. I was getting nervous, exactly was she was looking for. I calmed down by taking a few deep breaths.

  I could feel the wind hitting my skin and everything in the Arena that stood in it's way.

  Annabeth approached me from behind silently, mistaken that I was completely helpless. The wind bouncing off her skin gave her away and I looked over my shoulder at her when I decided she was close enough.

  — I can see you. — I felt her movements stop and quickly fully turned my body to her to push her to the ground with my shoulder and knock her cap away.

  She fell to the ground with a thump and I kicked her dagger off her hand. I aimed my sword to her and she looked at me gobsmacked.

  — How? — She asked.

  I smiled and offered my hand.

  — Nivir indiristimiti yir ippinints — I responded at her offended face.

  — You are bluffing. I don't know how you did it but it wont work next time. — She went to get her cap and I went for her dagger.

  — You are contradicting yourself, my friend. — I say when I hand her her weapon.

  — Stop mocking me, lighthead. — She threatened but the smile on her face gave her away.

  — Wha- Wow, nicknames stage friendship. Alright, whoie. —

  — Whoie. Seriously? — Annabeth asked.

  — I saw a bunch of your mom's little flying rats yesterday. You really look alike. — She punched me on my shoulder and rolled her eyes.

  — Come on, lighthead, enough rest. Let's see you on proper battle. — She said "proper" harsher than the rest of the sentence, of course.

  I know that Annabeth is going trought the trouble of teaching me not only because she is a super nice person but because she likes the challenge of putting her skills at test and Im starting to see why myself.

  It was a beautiful day to train. Zeus wasn't pissed off and you could clearly see Apollo doing his daily journey, not the mention the chirping of birds and the owls hooting. The last part is weird because it broad daylight, but knowing that the Arena is one of Athena's spaces I guess that her sacred animal wants to know what's going on here. I prefer encountering an owl than a wild boar tho, so I'm not complaining.

Now with her dagger in hand, Annabeth put her stance back on and I followed suit.

  The sound of the horn got to our ears and we dropped our weapons in annoyance.

  — Come on, whoie. — I say offering my arm for her to interwine and she did.

  — Let's stop by my cabin first. I need to get out of this thing. —

I entered Annabeth's cabin and waited for her as she got her armor off and placed it where the ones of her siblings where.

I took the moment to see the cabin well now that it's daylight. It is the neatest place that I have ever seen, like Pinterest level. I focused on the bed where Annabeth put her cap on and picking under her pillow there was a Polaroid of her as a kid and a Doberman .

  — Not to be nosy but you are a dobie girl? — I asked.

  Annabeth turned to look at me and saw what I was looking. She came over and smirk as she grabbed the picture.

  — I'm a Collie lover because they are fluffy and smart but Zeus was the nicest boy ever. — 

  — That's an accurate name for a dog. — I said and Annabeth restrained a laugh.

  — We made sure to neuter him. - Now I restrained a laugh. Im not eager to be struck by lightning again anytime soon. 

  — We didn't picked his name. When I was 4, I wanted a dog and when my dad took me to the shelter I saw that Zeus was going to be sacrificed for biting and after an hour of crying we took him home. This was on his first month of training school. He was a sweetheart. — She caressed the picture with her tumb and saved it on a book.

  — I'm sorry for you loss. —

  — It's ok. We had the greatest time together. — The tone of her voice dropped.

  I got up from her bed and gave her a hug. Annabeth hugged me back and she let out a single quiet sob. She broke the hug quickly.

  — Let's go, we are going to be late for lunch. — She started to make her way out of the cabin and I followed close behind. 

  — Why is everyone flashing blue cloths at the Ares kids? — I asked Annabeth when we were getting closer to the dining hall.

  — The blue team won Capture the Flag thanks to my plan. That's why Clarisse is specially angry these days. Wouldn't be surprised if next Friday she brakes someone's bones to get the flag. — She smiled with pride.

  — That's a little extreme, don't you think? — Annabeth stopped walking and looked directly into my eyes. 

  — It's a warfare game that prepares us for whats out there and you need to be smart and ruthless if you want to win the real thing. Thats one of the few things we agree on. Besides, we banned maiming and killing, theres nothing that the Apollo cabin cant take care of. — She started to walk again, leading the way. 

— Delightful. —

  ㅤׄ͜✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡

  When I we were finally on the dining hall, I looked at Hermes table and noticed Percy sitting next to Luke. Also, there was no sight of Aaron, I think it was rude of me to not had say goodbye but I didn't even saw him leave.

I said goodbye to Annabeth to go sit next to Percy but I decided to approach him from behind to scare him. 

— Buh! — I taped his shoulders, he flinched and turned around with an angry look that he had never given me before. 

— Oh, it's you. — His eyes softened completely.

— I thought i was going to be trown in the mud again. - He said, taking a bite of his food. 

— Again? What do you mean again? — I just left his side for a bit more than an hour and I had left him with bloody Luke.

— That girl from the Ares cabin, I think. Luke made her walk away before she actually punched me or something. — Percy shrugged, I couldn’t help but frown. 

  I looked at Clarisse's table, she was chuckling about something with the minions she called half-siblings. She met my eyes and she had her cocky eyes and a smirk. Then she noticed at Percy, her face shifted into disgust and scoffed to later allow me to see only the back of her head.  

— I wouldn't worry, Percy. Ada is friends with Clarisse. — Percy looked at me like if I had grown two more heads. 

— I would rather die. — I made both of the boys laugh. 

— Well, then maybe you can join us on trying to find some glory. — Luke said, Percy sighed in defeat. 

— Beg you pardon? — 

— Luke told me that when demigods get glory, nobody messes with them and they get noticed. So I wanted to try to find something that im good at so my dad claims me. —

I looked at Luke and he gave me a "go with the flow" nod. 

— I'm all free, let's do this thing. — I say, moving Percy by the shoulders, cheering him up. 

The first thing I did when we got back to the cabin was fall to my knees on my sleeping bag and lay in it with my face buried on my backpack. My whole body was exhausted, we tried everything until darkness arrived and no shiny sign appeared above our heads.

Percy was remarcable at swordfighting, learning fast and adapting to Lukes moves. I decided to sit that one out, the heart attack I almost got from watching Annabeth turn invisible still haunted me. We even tried archery again but with Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew's guidence now, I shot bullseye and Percy almost shot me. 

  I lifted my head a little bit and saw Percy on my left sitting crossleg on his sleeping bag, staring at his hands while they picked on his shoelaces. He didn't say a word on the walk back and now he was still suffering on silence. I sat up and grabbed one of Percys hands, making him look at me. 

— The most probable thing is that your dad is solving some godly issue and can't reach out right now. The important thing is that you are safe here and we are together. —

— He doesn't get to ignore me after what happened. I killed the Minotaur last night. What will it take for him to claim me? — His voice sounded angry and sad. 

— Percy- —

— Clarisse doesn't believe me and I have the horn and everything. What if my dad is just as stupid? —

— Percy, Clarisse can go fuck off. I saw you stab him and im sure your dad is just as proud as I am. I know how bad it sucks but we need to be patient. — I squeezed his hand to ground him and he sighed again. 

— How are you dealing with all of this? — He asked, grabbing my other hand. 

When I was younger, it used to hurt not having him around. Especially when my classmates talked about how they were their daddy's princesses. I used to think that I was missing something but I got older and learned how shitty a dad can be. Sometimes I felt like I dodged a bullet.

Now, to make things even worse, he was a god. To be honest, I don't know what that makes me. There were many demigods heroes but many more lived unnoticed. Maybe I'll end up living how I have lived to my fathers eyes: Irrelevant. Maybe that was for the best.

— I lived trought twelve Fathers Day and many Father-Daugther dances. I don't need him for me to know who I am. Neither do you. — Percy pulled me for a hug. 

— Thank you for everything that you've done for me, sis. — He said on the crook of my neck and hugged me tight. 

— Thank you too, bro. —

We broke up the hug and Luke walked to us.

— Hey guys, the camp fire is going to start soon. You should get ready if you want to be there. — He said. We thanked him and he left to chat with Chris.

— Do you want to go? — Percy asked.

— Nah, I'm just going to take a shower and get some sleep. You should go with Luke and the others. Just do me the favor of listen to people so we can discuss all the tea over tea tomorrow morning. — Percy rolled his eyes.

— Maybe you are Helios daughter. You know, the gossiper. —

— Helios is a titan. —

— Again with mansplainig. Don't you have to go shower? You smell so bad im gonna puke all over you. —

— Ew, Percy, you are gross. — I push him to the ground as I got up and we laugh.

I got off my long shower and I could still hear the laughter coming from the camp fire. I gather my clothes and my towel in a tote bag and leave the showers.

— HELP! —

My heart dropped at the far scream. The despair in it wasn't what got me dropping everything and running to the woods, it was that that voice belongs to Annabeth.

The screams continued and they got louder and closer as I entered the woods area. I encountered a cave where the screams echoed and I entered without hesitation.

— ANNABETH. — I called as I ran trought the caves long entrance.

— ADARA. — She screamed, it came from way deep.

I only stopped because I got to the end of the cave. It was a round space with no way out or in other than the way I come from.

The openings on the roof let in the dim light of the moon, being the only way to see here.

It was dead silent.

I felt my brooch on the pocket of my shorts and unsheathed the sword.

— ANNABETH. — My scream echoed on the rock and nobody answered.

From within the shadows in front of me, a figure emerged growling. It was a lion, a giant one.

I gripped my sword tighter, bracing for was going to happen.

The lion made a deep, guttural roar and jump at me with his claws aiming for my head. I rolled to the side and slashed his front paw with my sword. It only made it angrier, not a scratch on the beast.

— ANNABETH, RUN AWAY! — Her silence was terrifying me. I didn't know if she was invisible or dead.

With every attempt to dig its claws into me, I would either block its paw or roll away.

It's so dark and cold here. I don't know how no one showed up yet. Annabeth's screams were loud and the camp fire was closer to the woods than the showers. I don't even know if Annabeth is injured or went to get help.

I feel so powerless and scared but I can't let my emotions take over. I needed to help my friend.

I decided to take deep breaths before the lion can feel I'm quivering.

I know the myth of the Nemean Lion. I know it can die but I'm not even half as strong as Heracles. I couldn’t choke him and his skin is impenetrable.

His skin is impenetrable. It can be killed.

He shows me all his set of teeth when he tries to bite me. I need to take action or he will tire me down and kill us.

I charge at him taking a claw on my left arm just below my shoulder, it tears my skin but my grip on my sword doesn't falter. I go face to face with the beast, he opens his jaw to bite my head off but I stick my sword deep into his throat.

The lion turns to dust leaving a cape where he stood.

— Annabeth? — I asked in the darkness.

My left arm went limp and I could feel the blood drops staining my leg. I used the light of my sword to see the corners of the cave but it was all empty.

I turn to the exit, desesperate to get out of here but I feel very dizzy, my legs are starting to become jelly and I was deep into the woods, far away from the part of them were the most dangerous threat was a humiliated nymph.

I grab the cape and place it on my shoulders so I wouldn't be a easy dinner for the monster that comes to finish me off.

I get out and the feeling of the sky above me relieved me. The fresh air allowed me to think clearly and I begin to stumble to the cabins.

— ANNABETH. — I kept calling for ger until my voice started to sound hoarse from all the shouting and I still didn't get an answer.

I could smell and see the big smoke come out of the camp fire but I couldn't continue walking, I felt so lightheaded.

Ha.

I dropped to my knees and my sword slipped out of my hand. I saw my left arm, the four claw mark was deeper and larger than I thought, my arm seemed like a slices of ham and from the wound down it was all red.

I cursed myself for not saving my ambrosia bag on my shorts and leave it on the tote bag instead.

I feel so upset, scared and angry. I don't know what happened to Annabeth or what will happen to me. My vision is blurry and my ears are buzzing.

Thunder began to roar in the sky and the wind picked up. I raised my eyes to the sky and felt the need for it. I could feel the charges filling the air and the despairing distance between the cumulonimbus and me.

In a desesperate move, I raised my hand to try to touch the sky followed by a tug on my gut, the voltage raised and lightning strucked me.

It felt like drinking hundreds of energy drinks without having a heart attack and instead feeling like you'd been to a spa. The energy not only healed my pain, it also made me feel better rested than I have ever felt.

I let the energy ran trought my body for a few minutes with my eyes closed, drinking in the feeling until I remembered my duty.

The voltage dropped and my bliss died down.

I opened my eyes and saw Chiron and almost all campers in front of me, ten meters away.

Amongst all the campers I noticed Annabeth, unharmed, and she seemed to be expecting something. Then I saw Luke who had a stone face and a hand on my scared brother. I even noticed Clarisse and her angry face.

I stood up in surprise and the centaur was the first to approach me.

— Ada- — Chiron interrupted his talking and walking.

He looked above my head with worried eyes and cleared his throat, putting himself together, to then look at my eyes.

— You have been claimed by Zeus, Thunderbringer, Lightning wielder, King of Gods. Adara Williams, daughter of Zeus. —

[autisticalastor]

i just wanna lose control

Pairing: Alastor/Rosie

Rating: E

Tags: Established Relationship, Sex-Favorable Asexual Alastor, Bottom Alastor, Top Rosie, Dom/Sub, Praise Kink, Mommy Kink, Breastfeeding Kink, Handjobs, Blowjobs

A/N: This fic is for day 5 of Bottom Alastor Week 2024 2, with the prompt praise kink! This is the first smut I've published since my Wattpad days. Be nice to me. Anyways, I too wanna suck on Rosie's tiddies until my mind shuts off. Send Post. (Title is from Overload by Second Connection!)

Alastor is not the kind of person anyone wants to be around when he’s stressed and overwhelmed. With all the new residents the hotel's gotten since its reopening, however, stressed and overwhelmed is the best he can say about how he's been feeling recently. He's usually so composed, unshakeable even. Yet lately, he's snapping at everyone, always on the knife's edge of adding some new guest stars to his next broadcast.

It's Charlie who finally cracks and tells him he's taking a break until he can act normal again, and she refuses to discuss anything regarding the hotel with him until he's gotten himself sorted. She's advised everyone else keep away from him as well, and while he's glad he's finally being left alone, it's even more irritating that he can't even get any work done now that he's got the peace to do so.

Really, even he's sick of himself right now. He feels like a wind-up toy that's achieved perpetual motion, unable to relax in the slightest. As much as he hates to admit it, the one thing he really needs right now is to just turn his brain off entirely, hard reset it like those pesky computers Charlie's always trying to teach him to use. And he knows the perfect person — the only person, really — he can trust with the job.

He doesn't bother making the walk out to Cannibal Town. Though it would normally be quite enjoyable for him to do so, dealing with any more people than absolutely necessary right now is bound to result in casualties. He merely dissipates into the shadows of his room, re-emerging just outside the door to Rosie's Emporium — he's at least got enough sense about him to knock before popping in unannounced.

Rosie seems quite happy to see him, pulling him into a warm hug he doesn't reciprocate, too tense and on edge for such pleasantries right about now. She can read him like a picture book, though, always has been able to, and she pulls back with a frown.

“What's botherin’ ya, doe?” she asks, stroking his cheek. If it were anyone else, he'd have bitten that hand clean off.

“Everything,” he says, his frustration evident in his tone.

She pulls him inside, locking the door behind them. Her hand rests low on his back, rubbing circles against him over his coat. “Why don’t you come let mama help you take your mind off things then?” she suggests.

Keep Reading

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Three times Scotty got caught, one time Johan rolled with it.

Summary: Johan, Scotty's old colleague, is visiting and spending time with the 141. Little did he knows that his little protégé was messing around with her new friends.

Warning: None

Words: 1.4k // Masterlist

A/N: I finally finished something! I had this in the work for a few weeks and I took the time to finish it. It was mainly made for the giggles and the "5 times, 1 times" kind of fic. Althought I could only think of three so there's that. Anyway it's good to have something! If you are curious, this is the song Scotty pretend is the Belgian Anthem (it's not obviously) Not sure this is purely canon, but they were everyone interact could be :) so it's canon-ish.

The blond man was looking at the papers with the captain, evaluating what they were about to jump into when the door of the office opened. It was quite interesting to meet this new team his old colleague left the BSF for. Well Johan often teased her about this, even if technically she was still an asset. He was quite happy to see that Scotty had landed in good hands. His eyes lifted up the file to see the two young sergeants coming in, laughing. 

“What do you two want?” Price asked, not even lifting his head or eyes.

“Soap wanted to know if there’s anything we could do to help?”

“At the moment, no. But I’ll make sure to tell you when needed.” Price smiled.

“Roger that Captain Opa.”

Johan’s brows frowned. His expression changed from confused to surprised to unimpressed in a few seconds. A reaction Soap caught and so did Price. The only one who didn’t notice because she was busy smiling like an idiot was Scotty. “Everything alright sir?” The Scotsman asked.

He put down the file, crossed his arms and straightened his back. “Why would you call your captain Grandpa?” His tone wasn’t accusing or mean, simply amused. From his point of view, he saw Scotty’s expression change quickly because someone had seen through her bullshit. Soap was taken aback, as much as Price. “Wait! I have been calling him grandpa for weeks now? What the fuck, Scotty! Why!” “Oh come on, it was funny. No offense Price.”

The captain grumbled something under his breath. Scotty quickly exited the room with a rather bewildered Soap trailing behind. Very vocal about how could she play him dirty like this.

*****

“No, no you have to pronounce it a little more this way.” Scotty repeated the word. Soap followed her instruction getting a hang of the word a little better.

“Ok I think I got it. Promise this time it’s not something I would regret right?”

“Promise! I mean you have to admit it’s funny how they rhyme!” 

Since the last time, he was a little more cautious of any Dutch word she would teach him. Fool him once, shame on you. Fool him twice… Johan was discussing with Gaz on their way to the table. He took a seat next to the woman, Gaz next to Soap. Again it sank into her mind that she will regret it. 

“Hey dommerik Garrick!” Soap smiled.

“What?” 

The next thing they knew was the sound of a slap and a whine. Johan had landed a good smack on the back of her head and he shook his head. “Seriously, how old are you? Twelve? Don’t you have anything better than to make them learn bad words..”

“Scotty you said… Oh god! What did I just call him?!” 

“You called him stupid.” He glared at her.

“Oh that’s it! Come here!” Soap jumped over the table as Scotty barely had the time to dodge him. She threw herself down the chair and pushed herself back up to escape. Just like that they were gone like the wind, Soap ready to take his revenge no matter the way. 

“Has she taught you anything?” Johan asked with a long sigh of disappointment.

“A few small words, but I searched them to be sure what they meant. These two like to mess with the others, so I’m not surprised we reached this point. Like siblings, I swear. You really make it hard for her though.” Gaz smirked, amused by the situation.

*****

Gaz wasn’t wrong. Scotty hated to have Johan around and couldn’t wait to return to the good old times where she could mess around without problems. Although yes, the last time had been a little mean and she did apologize for it. Obviously now it was harder to have fun with the boys. At least, if she couldn’t tease them anymore she could slip some comments. Good ones. Her favorite was with Ghost. He was aware of the meaning and it was their little secret code. 

As she was seated in front of him, helping with some paperwork that needed to be done a week ago, her eyes glanced at him above her work. He was focused on his own, writing down something, the sun was shining behind him. A smile drew on her lips as she caught herself thinking that the universe didn’t have to give her more reason to be more in love with him. She leaned on the desk, her head rested on her hand. “Ik houd van je.” She said in a soft tone.

“Same.” The corner of his eyes raised a little, hinting at the smile behind the mask. His answers often revolved around this or ‘me as well’, ‘me too’ trying to change around so no one would really catch on to what was going on. Or…

“I thought dating a superior was illegal?” Johan snorted, adding a file to the pile. 

“Godverdomme! Fucking hell, you son of a bitch!” Scotty jumped off her seat. Heart racing about to burst out, she turned to the lieutenant with a glare. He sneaked up on them real good. 

“Language.” Johan and Ghost warned at the same time. Scotty rolled her eyes. Johan took a chair and sat next to her with a nudge to her side. “So, what’s this about?”

******

The atmosphere at the pub was rather cozy and festive from all the patrons. So their shenanigans blended in the crowd. 

“Wait, so how does it go again?” Gaz asked after another sip. His brain wasn’t quite drowning in alcohol yet, but it was getting to him. Scotty played the song again. Soap and Gaz carefully listened to the chorus, slowly mounting some words. 

“It’s weird that I hear some english… you are sure it’s the anthem, right?” Soap had his fair share of drink as well, but he had a part of him still on the lookout for her bullshit since the last time. 

“Yes I promise you it is.” 

“Ok we got this.” In a very drunk voice they did their best. 

“We are Belgium, we are small, klein, petit

Most underrated country in the whole galaxy

We are Belgium, we love stew verse…”

“No, it’s stoofvlees.”

“Stewfvest?”

“Stoof, vlees.” She shook her head, it was funny to see them try. 

“What’s going on here?” Johan smiled, taking the free chair at the table. Scotty pouted slightly thinking that once more he would be such a pain and put an end to her fun. 

“Scotty is showing us the Belgian national anthem!” Soap explained. The blond man raised an eyebrow and she felt obligated to show him the song in question. His shoulders bounced in amusement. She was already resigned to get schooled or another slap behind the head.

“Oh yes! Our anthem, of course. All the kids at school must learn it by heart. The real trick is to sing it while eating a waffle, standing on one leg on a football ball, but this comes later. First you must learn to sing it from your heart.” 

This seemed to reinvigorate Gaz and Soap who tried once more to sing the song, following as it played this time. It was hilarious to say the least. Scotty leaned closer to Johan. “Thanks for playing along, lieutenant.”

“They probably won’t even remember it tomorrow anyway.” The two Belgians watched as the Brit and the Scots fumbled on the French and Dutch words. From a smaller voice to full confidence when the English part was back on. However they couldn’t finish it, laughter taking the best of them. 

Johan grabbed Scotty by the shoulder pulling her in a half hug. 

“I’m happy for you, Camille. These guys seemed really nice, it eases my mind to know you are in good hands.” 

Scotty chuckled. “You say that as if I still need to be protected like a child. You know I would have come back if I didn’t like the team… and before you ask, yes I still miss everyone at the BSF from time to time.”

“I miss you as well kabouter.” 

“Hey what does that mean?” Ghost asked as he finally joined the table with Price. Scotty silently begged Johan to not say a word. But his eyes told her that she deserved that.

“It means gnome.” 

“For fuck sake Johan! No!”

[zodiacs-web]

Hi! I saw that you said that requests were open and I read through the rules as well.

I would like to request Ayatsuji Yukito from bsd gaiden with fem reader.

Reader and Ayatsuji are kind of like partners on the case and after reader and Ayatsuji finished solving a case, both of them were on break and so reader asks if Ayatsuji would like to go to the arcade and play games with her, preferably fighting games.

Reader is polite and straight to the point when asking, once Ayatsuji accepted the offer she felt elated and immediately dragged him to a nearby arcade and started teaching him about the controls and etc, after the gaming session they both ate at a reasonably priced food court because reader likes to save money. (Inflation 😭)

Anyways, I hope you have a good day! Btw don't push yourself too hard with requests and etc. I don't mind waiting longer as long as you take your time!

Respite

╰₊✧ Ayatsuji Yukito x Fem! Reader

╰₊✧ Synopsis: Ayatsuji gets assigned to help with your case and after completing it you take a break.

╰₊✧ What's in the web: Fluff, partially edited, possible OOC!Ayatsuji

╰₊✧ A/n: it did take long lmao

“What am I going to do?!”

Oh, how he enjoyed Tsujimura's screeching in the morning. A collective of grumbles and moans from behind the door before opening to reveal her oh so wonderful presence. She looks over to Ayatsuji, who's reading his paper in silence, standing there hoping for him to say anything.

He stops reading for a moment, his gaze shifting over to her before returning to his paper. She stomps her feet over to him and slams a case file down onto his desk.

“Good morning, Tsujimura,” He says dejected, his eyes never leaving the paper.

“Listen here Ayatsuji,” She's pointing at him with a snarl on her face. “You will obey every command I tell you, and you won't run off this time.”

“Don't you tell me this with almost every case?”

“Yes! Though today is very different,”

“I have a partner with me this time, right?”

“You have a part-Wait! How did you know?”

Ayatsuji holds the file in his hands, reading a few prominent lines before looking back over to her.

“I guessed,”

Tsujimura looks impressed for a second before she's frowning.

“Don't embarrass me, I'm an agent with every right to shoot you dead on the spot!”

“How scary~”

She pouts before huffing and puffing all to herself in a corner. He reads your file carefully. Everything about you felt normal except one thing. Your ability. It was deadly, yet you weren't in the same predicament as him. You weren't locked away in a building, they let you roam the streets of Japan.

He lifts his head and asks, “Have you personally met my partner?”

“Of course I have. She has all the details to this case,” Tsujimura crosses her arms with a confident look on her face.

“I can't have information she has?”

“Nope. You ask her when we get there.”

He sighs as he stands from his seat. His fingers tapped against his desk, watching as Tsujimura leave the room.

Ayatsuji hadn't thought much of you, just a simple person to him in the most flattering way possible. You lacked the same energy as Tsujimura, and he silently approved that of you.

“There is one thing I'd like to say about this overall case,” you inquire.

“Well, go ahead,” Ayatsuji responds.

You say with a smile, “It's annoying,”

Tsujimura looks shocked, while Ayatsuji is already thinking. You informed them of the target and his annoying ability in which made him difficult to catch. You were placed under this case by him thinking you could possibly outmatch him, that is, if you could catch him.

“The thing is they hadn't known what his ability was at the time, so...”

“So they chose you? Yet they kept you on the case.”

You nodded. Ayatsuji understood now, your ability despite its prowess was no match for a teleportation ability. There were still some clues that needed to be connected, hence Ayatsuji was called on.

“I see. I'll help with your case,”

“It's not like you had a choice, and plus I'll help you every step of the way.” Tsujimura interrupts.

In the end, you and Ayatsuji left behind Tsujimura. She couldn't keep up with the both of you and was left behind at a train station two hours away. The case was finished as agents flocked to your area to clean up the remains of the perpetrator. You settled on staying put to let her catch up to you.

“I suppose we are on break then, huh?” Your head falls to the side to get a better look at him. He only looks towards you, nodding.

Unfortunately, waiting in silence for two hours is not ideal. So it must be broken.

“Do you want to go to an arcade and play fighting games?!” You ask, your hands grip the edge of the bench in anticipation. Ayatsuji is somewhat perplexed. Though he notices your movement and the twinkle in your eyes, yet he doesn't indulge in the collective boredom growing throughout the bench.

He says, “Sure,” before hearing you squeal in excitement while being dragged to a hole in the side of a building.

“Since we got here, I've been eyeing this place for a while,” You admit while your arm is hooked around his. When you stop in front of a purple and blue machine, a galaxy appears on the screen and the text moves up and down.

“This is Galaxy Fighters. It's moves and controls are easy to learn,” You start pulling coins out your purse and inserting them into the slot, all while Ayatsuji takes note of the glimmer in your eye. It was as if the galaxy reflected onto your eyes instead.

“You can sift through the characters through the joystick and the big red button can lock in your character,”

He was paying close attention to your instructions, listening and giving input when needed. To be quite honest with you, he enjoyed playing with you. A small smile crept up onto his face during this time, and you briefly felt a pang in your heart upon seeing it.

You turned your head back to the fight only to see yourself losing to him by a margin. You jolt as you start to desperately smash the buttons in an attempt to win again, no thought whatsoever. He chuckles at your desperation, cursing him as you see the K.O. appear on-screen.

"I can't believe I lost," You pout.

"You'd have won if you didn't stare at me," He says as he glances over at you. You're baffled, body shaking with vigor as you can only stare at him.

"Pffff,"

"What, you're going to say you weren't staring at me?"

"I..." He's making a face at you, it was one that had a certain smugness about it, and you pout. "...no, I was not."

In an attempt to change the subject, you look away as you open up your purse, "Oh! That's good. We have enough money to eat."

"We're eating?"

"You aren't hungry?"

He stares at you.

"I am."

Admittedly, you eyed the restaurants near you, recognizing which names were expensive and ones that were cheap. During these times, any waste of more than you've saved might lead to death. That was an exaggeration.

Ayatsuji could tell on the expression on your face as you eyed another menu. I mean, you had your every right to be so stingy with your money, the economy was in shambles. You finally settled for a little shop, cheap yet invigorating on all levels.

You had a gorgeous bowl of shrimp fried rice, the shrimp shone a golden brown while the rice inherited the color. Ayatsuji had a bowl of udon noodles, unfortunately, you didn't get to see his dish. Your stomach watering at the many possibilities in his own bowl.

Suddenly a little song played, ah, your ringtone. You saw the name Tsujimura appear on-screen, your lips pursing as you take the call. That was it, it had been two hours and your journey has ended. She has reached the both of you.

"Well, we should go now," You twiddle your thumbs as you stand before the restaurant.

"Yes, we should," He says as he starts looking over at the street signs.

"Here you go,"

He looks down to see a thin strip of paper and a number on it.

"This is my phone number. Well, not really, it's the buildings I live at,"

He grabs it and shoves it into his pocket.

"The phone's tapped, isn't it?"

You sheepishly nod, giving him an uneasy smile while he wears none.

"Well then goodbye,"

"Goodbye,"

"Maybe we'll work together again,"

"Maybe..."

[octoberobserver]

We're a Documentary, Not a Fucking Sitcom - WWDITS Fic

(Read on ao3 here)

I read ' 'The power dynamics seem so problematic. I mean, that’s his boss,' and this possessed me. Enjoy! 😉

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Guillermo blinked his eyes open, the ghost of Nandor’s cold, smooth lips still lingering on his own.

He had just kissed him. Right on the mouth, mid-sentence, on a random Tuesday night, three months after Guillermo became human again.

“I…Mas–Nan…”

The words died in his throat as his brain whirred like a computer with too many tabs open.

“I am your boss,” Nandor continued as if he had not heard him, beginning to pace the length of the Fancy Room. “You are my employee. It is frowned upon…problematic.”

That snapped Guillermo out of his stupor, frowning as he tried to make sense of his rambling.

“Okay, first of all, employees get paid. If anything, I was an unpaid labourer,” he held up his hand to stop himself from tracing his lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Second of all, you’re not my boss anymore anyway. I’m just your human roommate now, remember? I have a new job teaching self-defense down at the YMCA. I’m not your familiar. We’re equals. We made the deal that I would stay in this house once none of you treated me like shit anymore and you got a new familiar. You’re just too stubborn to let me help you pick a replacement.”

That stopped the vampire in his tracks, a petulant pout on his handsome face.

“That’s because they are all terrible, Guillermo! Francine didn’t know how I like my hair combed, and Jason did not do my buttons up correctly!”

“You didn’t give them a chance to learn!”

“You picked it up right away!”

“Well, not everyone can be me!”

“I know! That’s the problem!”

Somehow they had closed the distance between them and were right back where they started moments ago, mere inches from each other. Naturally, Guillermo’s eyes fell on those pale, alluring lips, but he dragged them back up to a safe spot, focussing on the crinkle between Nandor’s eyebrows from where his head was bent downwards.

“Third of all,” he forced out, his breath no doubt bouncing off his chin. “‘Problematic?’ Seriously? You brutally killed innocent people that I lured here every single week for the last thirteen years. And you’re worried about us having a…a ‘workplace kiss’ being problematic?”

Look. It wasn’t like it had never crossed his mind. Both kissing Nandor and the very morally bankrupt decision to feed random humans to a group of bloodthirsty vampires every week for his entire adult life. But ever since he was faced with directly killing an innocent person so he could live and being unable to do it, he was questioning himself and his choices more and more lately.

(The whole wanting to kiss his former Master thing was a constant, ongoing thing. And definitely not a recent development. But that was his business.)

“Well,” Nandor waved a hand, undeterred. “Darla said it is frowned upon.”

Guillermo squinted up at him.

“And who is Darla?”

“My spotter at the gym. She’s a grandma looking to strengthen her pelvic floor.”

“Ew, what—? No. Doesn’t matter,” he winced. “So, what would Darla think about you kissing someone ten seconds after they tell you they’re going on a date? Is that not ‘problematic?’”

Nandor scrunched up his nose.

“Well, it just happened, so how would I have time to tell—”

“Mierda,” he muttered under his breath, staring up at the ceiling for a God he couldn’t believe in anymore.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, Guillermo. I am sorry,” Nandor said in the ‘I’m trying to be diplomatic but am being a giant baby about it’ voice that he found hard to truly hate. “I just…thought that you had sworn off dating?”

A disbelieving laugh escaped his chest.

“So, what, you thought you’d kiss me in…protest?”

Something warm was fluttering around his abdomen as his heart beat what felt like a million times a second, his brain very unhelpfully replaying the kiss over and over in his head.

Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it, stop—

“I’m just confused,” Nandor was shrugging when he forced himself to focus. “You seemed uninterested in dating, and now you come in here and tell me not to wait up because you’re going out with some fucking gu—”

“And why is it you think I’d be uninterested in dating, Nandor? Would it be ‘cause the last boyfriend I had, you fucking cloned for yourself, and then sent him away so he could meet up with Freddie and have him cheat on me with himself?!”

The words echoed throughout the large room.

Nandor looked just like he did when he'd been slapped.

“Guiller—”

“No. Let’s talk about it,” he cut him off, shooting a glance at the nearest camera before glaring up at him. “I’m so sick, of never talking about things in this house. Just letting them revert back to the status quo. We’re a documentary, not a fucking sitcom,” he huffed, pointing a finger in his face, still standing so close he almost poked him.

“You turned your wife into my boyfriend, and that was really fucked up. You know, something actually ‘problematic.’”

He added extra sarcasm and generous bunny ears around the word, scorn and hurt rising within him from where it had laid dormant for over a year.

“You destroyed Marwa, and then my relationship, and you’ve never once taken responsibility for it. Or anything else you’ve ever done. So if you wanna talk about what’s ‘problematic,’ let’s start—”

“I changed her back.”

Guillermo froze.

“What?”

Nandor was busy staring at the red couch, murmuring so quietly that he almost didn’t hear him.

“I said I changed her back. I used my remaining wishes to…undo it all. Give her the life she deserves…without me. She’s in Washington now. Has gone back to school, last I heard.”

His heart skipped a beat as he digested that.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well,” Nandor scoffed, stepping even closer, gaze locked back on him. “I might have if you hadn’t been so busy conspiring with Laszlo because you went behind my back and got Derek to turn you INTO A VAMPIRE. DEREK! FUCKING GUY.”

Guillermo’s blood began to boil, spilling like molten lava in his veins.

“Because YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO!” he exploded. “After YEARS of putting up with all of your shit, I had enough of waiting!”

Nandor’s jaw clenched.

“I was going to turn you, even though I wasn’t sure if it was right for you, but you abandoned me for London!”

“Laszlo locked me in a coffin and shipped me to London like a giant FedEx package! I had literally zero control over that!” Guillermo shot back.

“Well,” Nandor cast his eyes around the room for an answer and grinned humorlessly when he found one. “You didn’t look for me.”

Oh, hell no.

“Yes, I did! But I had no way of contacting you,” Guillermo spat. “I had Nadja reach out through the ether and said she couldn’t find you, that you were blocking her somehow. So, yeah. It wasn’t like you were looking for me, either!”

His chest was heaving like an overwhelmed Victorian maiden whilst Nandor was as still as a statue, but he didn’t care.

Finally. Finally he was airing his grievances. After all this time. Years and years of pent-up anger and hurt and resentment, they were finally talking about it all. And God, it felt amaz—

“I was mad at you when you didn’t meet me on that platform…you broke my heart.”

Those words turned his molten blood to ice.

But that didn’t stop his own words from tumbling out of his mouth anyway.

“Yeah, well. You broke mine first.”

Their eyes met.

Silence engulfed the room.

“That’s a lot of information to get in thirty seconds.”

His head whirled around to find Colin Robinson staring at them from the doorway.

“This is a private conversation, Colin Robinson,” Nandor replied, his gaze still burning a hole into Guillermo. “Leave. Now.”

“Right. Private,” Colin retorted with his usual deadpan tone, gesturing to the cameras. “Whatever. Just fuck already. It’s faster. Especially the way Nandor does it.”

They listened to his retreating steps for a beat, Nandor cursing him under his breath.

“Did he quote Friends?” Guillermo gaped after him, realising it was in vain when he remembered who he was asking, though he could swear he saw one of the camera crew quietly nodding.

“Do not change the subject, Guillermo,” Nandor drew him back in, his dark gaze unwavering. “What did you mean when you said I broke your heart first?”

They don’t call him ‘The Relentless’ for nothin’.

“Come on,” he cleared his throat, his heart firmly lodged there as he tried to step around him. “We don’t have to do this. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does, and yes, we do,” his hand shot out inhumanly fast and held him in place by the wrist, firmly but not something he couldn’t break from. “You wanted to talk, so talk. Please.”

What were you saying about pent-up feelings, again?

“You,” he took a shaky breath, forcing himself to stand his ground. “You…have to know how I…how I’ve felt all these years. I know you’re not that dumb.”

Nandor’s lips parted, but Guillermo kept going, words flowing from him like a burst dam.

“Every cruel word, every dismissal, every time you rebuffed my hugs or compliments or belittled me or my accomplishments…it was death by a thousand cuts. Because I fuckin’ loved you anyway.”

A bitter laugh escaped him as tears stung his eyes.

“Huh. Now that’s problematic.”

The silence was deafening.

Nandor had yet to move an inch, not even to blink.

Well, you’ve done in now, de la Cruz. And even managed to reference a Taylor Swift song. Bravo.

Seconds ticked into nearly a minute, and Guillermo was really starting to get freaked ou—

“‘Loved…’” came a raspy voice, barely above a whisper. “...as in past tense?”

He stared at the hand that was still clasping his wrist, right over his hummingbird pulse point and thought, fuck it.

“Love. I love you, Nandor. I always have. And I meant it when I said I was gonna be right here by your side. Even…even if it’s just as your friend and roommate. Because that’s what love means.”

He had done a lot of brave things in his life. Had taken on and killed dozens of vampires, faced witches, zombies and werewolves without batting an eye, and had emo bangs way past 2012, but Guillermo de la Cruz had never felt true bravery until this exact moment.

He watched as Nandor’s face crumpled like creepy paper, his eyes squeezing shut as he took in a deep breath he didn’t need and mumbled to himself.

“Floating through the cold, dark universe like a little grain of furry sand.”

“...what?”

Those large, dark eyes that he loved so much popped open, and he almost gasped at their intensity.

“I…I once thought I was completely alone in this world, Guillermo. Without someone to love or love me. But I’m realising now that that hasn’t been true for a long time, has it?”

Guillermo swallowed the lump in his throat.

He shook his head.

Slowly, a small smile spread on Nandor’s face, his thumb brushing against the thin skin of his wrist.

“And it hasn’t for you either, you know.”

Guillermo felt his brow furrow.

“Wha—”

Cold, soft lips covered his for the second time that night. Heart hammering against his ribcage, he hurried to kiss back this time, leaning up on his tip-toes and gently trailing his tongue along Nandor’s bottom lip.

The kiss deepened as he opened his mouth, the corner of one of his fangs brushing against Guillermo’s tongue and sending a thrill through his entire body. They gripped each other, on the edge of frantic.

“That is why I kissed you, Guillermo,” Nandor murmured, leaning back to press his face into his jaw, peppering little pecks there. “I love you too. But I was too dumb to acknowledge it. Until I thought I was losing you again.”

Shock flowed through Guillermo at both confessions, gripping the back of his neck to pull him further down into him, arousal sparking in his gut as a large hand clutched his hip and pulled them flush together, covering his mouth with his carefully but passionately.

Over six feet of solid muscle draped over him like an awning, and he had never felt more in tune with his own body before, letting himself get lost in the sensation.

Dios mio.

After a few seconds, minutes, or several years, his heart squeezed on the bridge of pain, his head spinning a little, his lips growing numb.

Breaking for air, he gasped, reminding both Nandor and himself, “B-Breathe, I-I need to breathe.”

Smiling apologetically, Nandor’s giant hand cupped his cheek, gaze boring into him.

“I know I’m not your boss anymore, Guillermo. But I would still like it very much if…if you kept your post as my heartguard.”

Now he was breathless for a whole different reason.

Beaming, his eyes stinging again, he brought his hand up and linked their fingers.

“Okay. Only if you’re mine too, though.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

Somewhere in the depths of the house, they heard Nadja let out a loud gag, followed quickly by, “Give it to him, good, Gizmo, and shut up already!”

Face on fire, he turned to him, leaning back in.

They still had a million and one things to talk about and work through. Obviously. Issues like theirs—problematic or otherwise—didn’t disappear with one, two, or even three admittedly fantastic kisses. But for now, their roommates had a point.

“Fucking vampires,” Guillermo chuckled.

“No,” Nandor replied with a sharp grin. “There’s just one vampire to fuck. Me."

Groaning at the dumb pun, Guillermo allowed himself to be kissed deeply and thoroughly, winding his hand into the silky, dark hair he adored and tugging.

It was as Nandor let out a quiet mewl (that he was definitely filing away for later) that he remembered the cameras. And the other people in the room. And his date.

“Wait, sorry,” he broke the kiss, his mouth already raw from beard burn and loving it before he turned to the crew.

“Can we have some privacy, guys? Please? And here, take my phone and text my date that I’m sorry I won’t make it, but he seems like a good guy, and I hope he meets someone else.”

He watched as the crewmember closest to him just barely caught his phone while the rest of the team just gaped at them, frozen in place, until a dark shadow cast over the room.

“He asked nicely,” Nandor said, his voice an octave lower than usual. “Do not make me ask not nicely.”

Not needing to be told twice, the crew scrambled to vacate the room, lugging their cameras and equipment behind them as Nandor reeled Guillermo back in, pushing him gently against the wall and cradling his head.

“Out, out!” he shooed over his shoulder, kissing along his jugular, his sharp fangs lightly scraping his skin and making him shiver. “We are a documentary, not a fucking porno!”

“No, save that for the honeymoon, old chap,” Laszlo’s muffled voice wafted from above. “And, if you need any pointers, let me know!”

[fariadraws]

Latin-101!

A little story for context under the cut!

"Mom, please tell Dad that I don't need a tutor. I can learn Latin, history, and math all by myself. After all, I learned botany, playing chess, and charting stars in the tower on my own!" Rapunzel insisted to Arianna as Frederic proposed hiring a home tutor for her.

"Sweetie, I know you're really smart, but it will be better if you study under the care of a professional. Besides, it won't take long for you to finish the courses since you are a very fast learner," Arianna assured her only daughter.

"Aw..." Rapunzel pouted.

***

"You have class this afternoon? But it's supposed to be our date today, Blondie!" Eugene expressed his frustration.

"I know, but there's nothing I can do. Mr. Muller is very strict; I can't just cancel his class. He taught my dad as well. Dad really respects him, and I can't let him down," Rapunzel sighed disappointedly.

***

Mr. Muller started teaching Rapunzel history, geography, math, law, and Latin a couple of weeks ago. Rapunzel had to take two tests on history and math already. She can't catch a break lately due to her tight schedule. That old man is always putting Rapunzel under huge pressure by giving her random assignments and tests.

"This week, you're going to sit for a Latin exam, young lady," Mr. Muller declared as soon as he entered the classroom.

Rapunzel almost cried. She had plenty of plans for this week because Mr. Muller said if she got good marks, he'd grant her a leave as a reward.

"But, Mr. Muller, I got an A on both subjects!" She reminded her teacher.

"So?" Mr. Muller frowned.

"You said you would grant me a leave if I got good marks."

"Define good marks first. You should have gotten an A+. I made the questions ridiculously easy for you, and still, you failed to get 90 percent!"

Rapunzel sighed.

"Anyway, today we'll learn some syntax. Uh... open your book to page 48."

***

"Did you hear me, young lady?" Rapunzel woke up suddenly as she heard Mr. Muller's monotonous voice. She had almost fallen asleep because of the boring lecture.

"Yeah, I did!" She replied while trying to suppress a yawn.

As Mr. Muller continued lecturing, she started drawing a sketch of the teacher.

"Hmm... his hair reminds me of a rat's ear! Ooh, and look at that nose, as red as a ripe apple! The bald part of his head reflecting the ceiling like a brand new mirror! His fat belly is trying hard to tear apart his shirt..."

"What are you drawing over there, young lady?" Rapunzel became aware as Mr. Muller shouted. Her heart skipped a beat.

"N-nothing," Rapunzel stammered as she tried to hide the drawing.

"Hand it over to me," the old professor demanded.

"I... I... I..." Rapunzel continued stammering.

"Give it to me!"

Rapunzel handed over the drawing finally. "Please, don't tell Dad!" Rapunzel pleaded.

Mr. Muller looked at the drawing closely, getting his eyes close to the paper, and then he peeked over his glasses and observed the drawing after taking the piece of paper far from his eyes.

"Hmm," he muttered.

Rapunzel was trembling in fear.

"Hmm... it's actually... it's actually pretty good! I like it! You certainly have a knack for it, don't you?" he asked Rapunzel, his eyes full of appreciation now.

"You liked it?" Rapunzel couldn't believe her ears.

"Yeah, I'm keeping this. You should continue making art; you're gifted."

Rapunzel's smile almost reached her ears.

"But NOT IN THE CLASS, hear? For the last time, I'm saying this... NOT IN THE CLASS." Mr. Muller roared like a crazy tiger.

Rapunzel listened to him silently while noticing embarrassedly that Eugene and Pascal had arrived at the door at her teacher's rising voice.

***

The End!