#OBSERVE...... i tweaked them a bit

[pbnmj]

Genuinely curious, what’s up with Noir’s age? And what does it have to do with his 08/09 run? ((You may ignore if you wish :D))

i no longer have to do an extremely long explaination about comics noir because it has already been done here, by foolsocracy!!!!!!! really great breakdown of his very vague age, which is never said outright in the 08-09 run, only implied!! my own personal take on this is that he's 17-turning-18 in the first one, just about graduated high school but not able to afford college (see the panel below LOL)

this also got a little longer than i thought it would, so under the cut for the rest of it! the tl:dr is "itsv!noir is not the same as comics!noir, and people saying that he's 19 isn't strictly true. to me, he's around 30!"

eyes without a face (the 09 run!!) only takes place 8 months after, in september 1933, which makes peter 18-turning-19. this is more of a headcanon though!! (see the noir birthday poll, which made me a noir-is-a-december-baby truther)

(peter being a libra is mentioned once in the first issue of amazing spider-man (2015), mostly as a punchline, and a specific date of october 10th was given in another issue that i have lost. other media, like with the mcu, has his birthday on august 10th. but to me noir is a sagittarius and you cannot pry that from me)

the 2020 run of noir begins establishing the year as 1939, making peter around his mid-20s, and 25 if you believe me on the 'peter was 17 in noir 2008' LOL.... i won't lie though i haven't read this one properly i very quickly skimmed so pinch of salt regarding my takes on the 2020 run

noir being in his teens during the first original runs is why "itsv!noir is 17-19" goes around so often! i've seen that on tumblr, twitter AND on tiktok and i don't mind what people hc, but it has become a pet peeve when people say it like its canon even though it's never been mentioned by the writers or the art book. itsv!noir is similar to his comic counterpart, but his differences in his origin story make me interpret him as a different noir (like how peter b.'s dimension is 616B, making him... 90214B?)

again, we are straying from itsv canon/etc here because i'm deranged, but i personally hc noir as being 32! some of my friends think he's in his mid-20s, others think he's older, but really the only reason is that 32 is the midpoint between the other two peter parkers: ripeter was 26 and peter b is 38. he's also voiced by nic cage, which makes me think older in the first place!

i just like the idea that he's more experienced that ripeter, but hasn't gone through as much as peter b. he spends most of the movie being broody ("moral ambiguity of your actions!", "matches burn down to my fingertips", etc etc), or snarkier than you'd expect ("it's that easy" "who are you again?" "you gonna fight or are you just bumping gums" etc etc). he also very sweetly tells everyone that he loves them before he leaves !!! i feel like it can in fact be in character for a peter parker in his late 20-early 30s, distanced from his tragedies in his own world by time (he doesn't forget them, that's different !) being able to look out for the spiders around him.

okay now we are VERY deep into hc territory, but it makes him able to balance out the rest of the itsv spider-gang as an older-brother figure who's able to guide peni, miles and gwen but also be able to act as a voice of reason for peter b. and ham if the sitauation calls for it. that being said noir is still peter parker and is therefore capable of spider-esque tomfoolery, which can lead to him misjudging the need for a snarky one liner ("this is a pretty hard core origin story"). my characterisation of him is also very inspired by heyitsspiderman, the itsv fic that changed me for the better, and noir isn't even in it that much LOL

veering back into itsv!noir's age and your actual question though: he's always read older in the movies, and not at all 17-19. noir is always going to be around 30 (32 if i have to give a number) to me!! if anything, he did go through the same kind of 'canon events' as comics noir did, but is an older and more experienced version of him, with tweaks to the backstory (like a radioactive spider instead of a spider-god, and webshooters instead of organic webbing). there are reasons ofc to see him being younger (egg creams are non-alcoholic, and that if it's 1933, his comicsverse self would be 18-19 too) . however you must consider that sony didn't expand on this and therefore it's up to fan interpretation and also that

[bby-deerling]

Your Headcannons and fics are amazing, I love reading them so much. I’m wondering if you could do a HC of them walking in on YOU Naked for Zoro, Law, Ace, Luffy, and Kid? Thx!

YES let's gooo! i only did some of these characters, i hope that's okay! might do a pt. 2 in the future :)

them walking in on you naked (nsfw)

ft. luffy, zoro, law

masterlist

cw: suggestive content, luffy is oblivious and weird, zoro is awkward, law is also awkward

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @sanjisprincesswifey

luffy

when luffy catches you in the bathroom, not quite fully dressed, he doesn't really see what the big deal is; in fact, he treats it just as if he had walked in on usopp or zoro, and acts accordingly.

this includes stretching his arms out to playfully tweak your nipple.

"luffy, what's wrong with you!" you squeal, covering up your chest with your towel defensively as he laughs.

"usopp always complains when i do it to him too!" he giggles, a wide grin on his face as he stares at you with his signature wide-eyed stare.

"well you can't do that to girls!" you snap, crossing your arms as you glare at him.

"how come? did it hurt or something?" he asks curiously, tilting his head and letting his head stretch just enough for the angle to become slightly unnerving.

face flushed, you begin to stammer. "no! it's just—it's sensitive, okay?" you admit, averting your eyes from his.

luffy erupts into laughter once more, turning into a snickering mess as he responds to your confession. "that kinda thing really turns you on? you're nuts y'know that?" he says, amused as his arms stretch out once more and he tries to repeat the action, this time with the intention of riling you up.

after all, he might as well get dirty before his shower rather than after.

zoro

zoro knows he shouldn't stare when he walks into the girl's quarters to come grab you for a sparring session, but he just can't help himself; he feels filthy, like that stupid moron cook as his eyes trace along your curves, but he's now been there too long that calling attention to himself or turning and leaving would both somehow make things more awkward.

the squeak you let out when you pull your shirt over your head, turn around, and realize zoro is in the room with you is downright adorable, both of your faces burning bright red with embarrassment. trying to diffuse the situation, the swordsman decides the best way forward was to change the subject and hope that the weirdness would melt away gradually. "hurry up. we're losing daylight." he spits out roughly, cringing at the way his voice cracks a bit as he speaks. silently agreeing to leave this unaddressed, you nod and follow him to the observation tower, color still deeply embedded in your cheeks.

for the first time in a while, you get the upper hand when training with him; you don't win, but you land a bunch of blows that he was incapable of defending himself from, his mind still stuck on the soft, plump flesh of your ass and the curve of your back.

law

he really should have knocked.

law should have known better than to just walk into your room, intending on asking if you were ready to head out to the local bar with the rest of the crew; admittedly, with you and ikkaku being the only girls on the ship, he sometimes forgets to give small little things like that extra thought and consideration. if it was ikkaku, he could've handled a yelp of surprise followed by her making fun of him for the next week or so, but with you he's reeling, apologizing awkwardly as he turns around and waits for you to pull your dress over your head.

"sorry about that, captain. i should've yelled out that i was getting changed. i heard the doorknob and froze up." you say sheepishly, unable to make eye contact with him.

he's equally unable to meet your gaze, the image of your bare chest burned into both his retinas and the back of his mind. "don't worry about it; it was my fault. i was just coming to get you, we're all heading out for the night." he says, swallowing hard as your lips ease into a soft smile.

"i'm ready! do i look alright?" you ask, smoothing out your sundress as you take one last look at the state of your hair. law gives you a terse nod and motions for you to grab your purse and follow him, which you do without complaint.

he's wholly unable to express it verbally, but the thinks you look gorgeous with and without the dress.

[sebscore]

gen-z driver chaotically taking over martin’s grid walk? thank you!!

KEEPING UP WITH THE GRID

pairings: f1 team principals, drivers and ex-driver x driver!reader (im too lazy to name everyone im sorry)

warnings: swearing. christian horner. mention of a nipple tweak.

author's note: anon, you are a legend for requesting this! I'm not too proud of the writing, since I wrote this in the middle of the night and my brain doesn't function normally then. but i hope you like it anyway, darling! let me know your thoughts!!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

Y/N was mindlessly scrolling through her phone when a sudden loud voice interrupted her peaceful time. ''How are we feeling about today, Y/N?'' Martin bent his knees, so he could hold the mic up to her face as she sat on the ground. 

''Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me.'' She cursed, quickly covering her mouth as she knows she isn't supposed to swear on Sky Sports. ''Uh, I'm feeling pretty good about it, I'm starting on the second row, so not too bad.'' The driver answered his question, smiling sheepishly. 

''You like having alone time before a race?'' He continued, a grin on his face. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''I just happen to be alone right now, sometimes I'm chatting with my team or with some of the other drivers.'' 

''Martin, you look a bit tired, you want to sit down?'' She patted the space next to her, feeling bad that he was crouching down while she comfortably sat on the grass. 

The former F1 driver held a look of surprise on his face. ''In all my years I've been doing this, no one has ever offered me to sit down.'' He gave the camera a glance before slowly letting himself sink to the ground. 

''You know, people always wonder 'Where is Martin?' But no one ever wonders 'How is Martin?' We need to take better care of you.'' The man seemed clueless about what she was saying, but he was amused either way. 

''I'm alright, all that walking takes a lot of energy.'' He responded, pretending to wipe sweat off his forehead. 

Y/N chuckled. ''Yeah, I mean, you've been doing this longer than I've been alive, so I understand that you're tired from all the walking.'' She never let the oppurtunity slip to make him aware of their age gap. 

''Well, let's not talk age,'' he sighed, making her laugh, ''anyway, I think I might just hang around here for the entire segment.'' Martin concluded. 

An idea popped into her head as she heard his words. ''Can I do it? I've always wanted to do it.'' 

Martin was surprised for a second time since joining the young woman. ''You mean I let you go around the grid and talk to people?'' 

She nodded. ''Yes, I love bothering people with my presence.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly. 

The Brit looked at his cameraman, who adamantly nodded his head to the idea of letting the driver do her thing around the grid. 

Martin let out a deep breath, but handed his mic and headset over. ''Just don't get me fired,'' he said, trying to sound stern, ''and don't curse!'' He quickly added. 

''I won't, I promise! I'll see you later!'' She got up from the ground and put the headset on, slightly altering it so it fit her head perfectly. ''Alright, let's make some controversy.'' Y/N exclaimed, pulling the cameraman along. 

She glanced around the grid, trying to find some interesting people to talk to. ''So, I just need to find a person and ask them questions about whatever I want?'' The athlete asked the cameraman, who simply nodded his head, making the camera shake as well.

''Oh, I love this program!'' She giggled into the microphone, doing a small jump out of happiness. 

Y/N observed the grid, knowing her first ''guest'' needed to be a good one. ''Okay, I've found someone!'' She let the cameraman know, pointing in the direction she wanted to go. 

''Alright,'' she tapped the person's shoulder, having them turn to the camera in confusion, ''the first guest on Y/N's grid walk is the team principal of Mercedes… Petronas… Benz…,'' she tried remembering the full team name, ''Whatever, his name is Susie's husband! Welcome, Susie's husband.'' She introduced Toto. 

The Austrian man was incredibly entertained by the young woman's antics. ''Hello, Y/N.'' 

''I have to ask you- how does it feel to be married to the greatest woman alive?'' She asked him, glancing around to find the woman in question. 

Toto laughed at the question, but proceeded. ''It's great, Susie is an amazing person who has done countless amazing projects and campaigns- I'm a very lucky man.'' The sincere smile on Toto's face when talking about his wife brought a smile to Y/N's face. 

''That's so cute- where is she? I only came over here, because I thought she would be here.'' 

''Unfortunately, she's not here today,'' he told her in a sad tone, ''I know that upsets you, Y/N.'' The driver's girl crush on Susie had been an obvious thing for many years, amusing everyone involved. 

Y/N pouted at his words. ''Well, yeah… that upsets me a lot actuall-''

''What is going on here?'' A British accent interrupted her interview with the team principal. 

''Go away, Russell George! I don't want you on my show.'' Y/N teasingly dismissed George, slapping his arm to get him out of frame. 

The Mercedes driver feigned offense, placing his hand on his heart. ''Why not? I thought we were great friends, Y/L.'' 

''Crikey, crikey, crikey! Don't you have shirtless pictures to post somewhere? Bye bye!'' She quickly got away from the Mercedes team, practically running at one point. 

Y/N let out a big sigh into the mic. ''Martin was right, this is tiring,'' she momentarily stopped in her steps, her hand on her waist, ''OH! Look! It's Charles Lechair!'' Her tiredness from a few seconds before was long forgotten as she strided over to her Monégasque friend. 

''Charles, hello, Charles!'' She put her hand on his back, guiding him to the camera. ''How are you feeling about the race today? What are the strategies? Do they know that word at Ferrari?'' She teased the red team. 

''Uh, we're feeling optimistic today and yeah, I'm ready to give it my all.'' He smiled, putting up his tv-friendly facade, not wanting to trash talk his team on television. 

Y/N raised her eyebrow. ''You're so cute being all positive! Keep that attitude, Perceval!'' She patted his shoulder. ''Thanks for talking to me and good luck!'' She bid him goodbye. 

The young driver walked in all sorts of directions. There were many people present on the grid, yet Y/N had quite a hard time finding people to talk to. It was when she walked by the Red Bull team that she found her next victim. 

''Christian! Christian Horner, hello, welcome!'' She and the team principal didn't have the best history, but she knew the viewers would enjoy the interaction as they knew said history. 

''Everyone, I'm joined here today by Red Bull, uh, Orange, Racing or whatever, F1 Team's team principal, Christian Horner.'' She butchered the team name again, although it was one purpose this time. 

She turned towards the man. ''Christian, I won't hold you up too long, but there is one question that our viewers have been dying to ask you and I think this is the right time to finally do it.'' Y/N build the question up. 

''Yes?'' He seemed a bit nervous, attentively listening to her words. 

''Can you say one nice thing about Y/N Y/L?'' 

The Brit visibly looked relieved at the question, thinking it would be something controversial. ''Of course, she's, uh, a very talented race car driver.'' He nervously smiled at her. 

''You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen, Christian Horner thinks Y/N Y/L is the most talented driver in the history of Formula One!'' She overdramatized his response. 

''You know what they say, keep your friends close, but keep your enemies even closer.'' She patted Christian's shoulder. ''Thanks for the talk, good luck and I hope you don't win.'' Y/N told him before walking off, hearing him laugh behind her. 

''So far, I've talked to Toto Wolff and Christian Horner,'' she said to the camera, ''enemies to, uh, even worser enemies, I guess.'' 

''Guys, we're here with Yuki's boyfriend, Pierre Gasly.'' Y/N stood next to the Alpha Tauri driver, shoving the microphone in his face. He took his airpods out of his ears, already chuckling at the girl's actions. 

''How are you doing?'' 

''I'm-''

''That's all the time we have for you, I'm sorry.'' She didn't let him finish his words and walked away from him, quickly giving him a smile so he knew she was entirely joking. 

She stepped further onto the grid, continuing to look for people. ''A bunch of green outfits, not very fashionable- oh, it's Aston Martin! Let's find Sebastian!'' Y/N mixed herself with the Aston Martin team, trying to catch the German driver. 

''Seb! Seb! Can I ask you a few questions?'' She eventually reached the man, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. 

His signature bright smile covered his face. ''Yeah, but where's Martin?'' 

''Me and Martin made an agreement, I get to do the grid walk and he gets to drive my car later- although, he never won any races, so that might not have been a great decision on my part.'' She told Sebastian, who seemed confused and fascinated at the same time. 

''Well, I think you're doing a great job as reporter.'' He deflected her words, not wanting to get in trouble by saying anything about Brundle's lack of GP wins. 

She smiled. ''Thanks, anyway… I know qualifying didn't go too well for you, but are you optimistic about the race?'' 

''Yeah, quali wasn't what we were hoping for,'' he sighed, ''It's gonna be difficult today, but we're gonna try our best to get as much points as we can for the championship.'' Sebastian finished his answer with an encouraging nod. 

''That's great to hear! You've been- oh my god, is that your dad?'' Y/N had glanced away from Sebastian's face for one second and saw Norbert watching them, waving at her once he noticed her looking at him. ''Okay, bye Sebastian! I'm gonna talk to your dad now.'' 

She walked past the Aston Martin driver to approach his father. ''Can I ask you some questions? I swear it's very short.'' She didn't want to burden him for too long. 

Norbert gave her a thumbs up, not minding being interviewed for a short time by her. ''It's okay.'' 

''Amazing! I mean, you're a legend of the paddock, Norbert! The drivers love you, the fans love you, everyone just loves you! Do you feel the love every time you attend a GP?''

Y/N had a good relationship with him as he and Sebastian would sometimes attend her karting tournaments together. Norbert had given her parents advice on how to support the young girl as best as possible. In a nutshell, the Vettel family were some of the greatest people she had ever met. 

''I do feel it, it's a great feeling and everyone is so nice to me.'' He wasn't very confident in his English, so he kept it short. 

Y/N smiled at him, delighted she got the chance to talk to him. ''You're always super sweet to everyone, so it's only right that we reciprocate your kindness,'' she nodded, ''okay, last question! Apart from Seb, who is the driver you're rooting for today? Is it someone you know very well? Or someone who is standing next to you and is asking you amazing questions?'' She played with a strand of her hair, pretending like she wasn't talking about herself. 

He laughed at her words. ''I'm supporting you, of course!'' He exclaimed, his arm going around her shoulder. 

''Oh! You're the best, Norbert! You're my favorite Vettel for a reason!'' Y/N said extra loud, knowing Sebastian would hear it that way. 

''I'll leave you alone now, thank you so much and I'll see you after the race.'' She gave him a brief hug and he wished her good luck, which she thanked him for. 

The cameraman had difficulties keeping up with her, used to the slower pace of Martin. Y/N noticed this and slowed down, sending him an apologetic look. ''Alright, I've talked to Seb, so I feel obligated to talk to Lewis now.'' She commented, trying to look for the 7x World Champion. 

''Where is he? He shouldn't be this hard to find…'' The athlete always saw the Mercedes driver hanging around the grid, chatting with his celebrity friends or getting ready with Angela. 

Y/N frowned. ''I should lore him or something…,'' she thought for a moment, ''vegan food, I have vegan food! Uh, free skydiving session! Oh my god, is that Roscoe on the track?'' She tried making him appear, but the only thing she got was weird looks from bypassers. 

However, a certain blond man caught her attention instead. ''Okay, I can't find Lewis, but this person knows him very well… or used to at least.'' 

''Britney Spears! Can I interview you for the highly respected tv-show, Y/N's grid walk?'' She snuck up to the former Mercedes driver, catching him off guard, but he played it off. ''Sure, I'm very honored.'' His monotone voice almost made her cringe. 

''First question: is it alright if I call you Britney? I don't know how you feel about the nickname.'' 

Nico chuckled at her. ''You can call me that, Y/N.'' 

''Ooooh~ I'm getting special privileges! I like it!'' She was impressed by Nico's answer, not being sure if he would go along with her humor. 

''Next question! How does it feel to be a Monaco based Youtuber? Do you enjoy the influencer life?'' 

The former World Champion snickered at her question, not expecting her to bring up his Youtube channel. ''It feels great, I'm, uh, yeah, enjoying the influencer life.'' She could tell Nico was doing his best to come off as positive as possible. 

''Nice, good for you, dude! Anyway, this was Britney, the man who beat the 7x World Champion, Lewis Hamilton, in equal machinery in 2016!'' She quoted the meme that was often made online when people talked about Rosberg. 

Y/N didn't wait for Nico's reaction, a bit too scared if she was honest, and made a run for it again. ''I've talked to three German guys- wait, is Nico German? He said once that he doesn't drink beer, so I don't know if he's considered German.'' She rambled on, not even listening to the words that were leaving her own mouth. 

''There's Jenson.'' She caught the Brit talking to his Sky Sports colleagues. ''You know what? I've embarrassed myself enough already, I'm not making it any worse.'' Y/N went in another direction so as to not cross paths with him. 

''Too bad he doesn't drive anymore, I would have loved to give him a lucky nipple tweak.'' Martin and Jenson used to have this running gag of the older man giving him a nipple tweak for good luck before a race. 

Y/N didn't see where she was going and almost tripped over someone's foot. ''Oh, shit!'' She loudly exclaimed, balancing herself so she wouldn't fall. ''Oh, fuck I can't swear- wait, shit! Ugh!'' She pulled the microphone away from her face, that way her curses wouldn't be picked up. 

''This isn't live, right? Cause then I'm in trouble, I think.'' She glanced at the cameraman, who mumbled a small ''It is live.'' 

''THIS IS LIVE?'' Y/N gasped, looking absolutely horrified at the thought of thousands of people watching her at that moment. ''Let's find Martin then, I think I've done enough damage.'' 

She headed back to the place where the presenter had approached her. ''Martin! Where is Martin?'' The driver glimpsed around, but no Martin in sight. ''I have oatmeal!'' She yelled, before making eye contact with the camera. ''Old people love oatmeal, right?'' He simply chuckled, not wanting to shake the camera too much with his laughing. 

''Oh, there he is!'' Y/N spotted the man and made her way over to him as fast as she could. ''I definitely didn't say anything controversial or cursed throughout the entire thing.'' She greeted him. 

Martin looked relieved as she handed his microphone and headset back over to him. ''I was out of my element for a while,'' he joked, ''did you have fun, darling?'' 

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yes, I'm even considering changing career paths.'' She chuckled. 

''That's great,'' Martin smiled, confident she made some amazing television, ''well, I think you're gonna have to go, cause I can see your, uh, coach not looking too happy.'' He pointed towards her performance coach staring daggers at her. 

''Oh, fuck, yeah, bye Martin! Thank you so much!'' Y/N quickly thanked the man for letting her take over his segment and she dashed out of there, hoping her team wouldn't be too upset about her disappearing into the grid to ask everyone ridiculous questions. 

''She's a special one for sure.'' 

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[slasherscream]

He’s Just Not That Into You

pairing:  jordan li x reader

summary: a hopeless romantic, you keep looking for love in all the wrong places, with all the wrong guys. that is, until you meet jordan li, who takes pity on you and tries to help you learn when a guy just isn’t into you.

gif credit: artemidosgifs

“You good?”

"Huh?" Dazed and drifting, you look up from your incredibly important task of peeling off the label for the worst tasting artisanal beer ever created.

You quickly remember why you focused on the task in the first place. The lighting at this party sucks. It's mostly dim, to try and hide all the unsavory things happening in every corner of the house. The brightest bits of it are all flashing. Neon blue. Neon red. Neon green. As if anyone has ever looked good in neon green lighting. That plus the never-ending movement of people dancing is enough to make you sick.

"Are you good or are you starting to tweak?" Your eyes adjust enough to see who's talking and you sit up straighter. Jordan Li. Number #2.

She's wearing her ever present scowl that makes you study extra hard in Brink's class. You don't ever want to be in the position to have to ask for clarification on an assignment or further guidance. Brink's so busy being renowned that he's a pretty absent teacher, if you're not one of his favorites. Everything menial falls to Jordan.

"I'm good! Totally good. Just vibing, y'know."

Jordan stares down at you, looks back out onto the sea of partygoers, "What vibe do you think you're matching?"

“Excuse me?”

"You've been sitting here for almost twenty minutes. You've barely moved. Did you take something?"

"No! I.... I didn't take anything. I'm just enjoying the atmosphere."

Jordan rolls her eyes, takes the beer bottle from your hand, and then takes your hand itself. She pulls you to your feet, easy, despite the way you go limp at the last second to try and stay seated. Without a word she begins to pull you through the crowd. Bewildered, you follow.

She doesn't stop till you're outside on the porch. Surprisingly, no one else is lingering. But the air has a chill that's pretty biting for an early day in fall. You take a deep breath. You hadn't realized how loud the music really was. How overwhelming every smell. The itch that crawled across your skin with each jostle of a body coming too near.

"Yeah, you look like you were really enjoying the atmosphere." Jordan drawls, leaned up against the railing, observing you.

Your first instinct was to say 'fuck you' to that, obviously. But at the last second you remember she is your TA and is probably doing all the actual grading for every assignment you turn in.

You force a smile, "Thank you. Guess I was feeling pretty anxious."

"What are you even doing here?"

"Should... I mean, I was... invited? If that's what you're asking. Although I think crashing parties is pretty typical college stuff, even if I wasn't-" 

“Not what I meant.” Jordan interrupts, “I mean you don’t usually go to parties. I never see you at any of them.”

“Maybe we just run in different circles.”

“Not really. You’re in the top ten now. What did you jump to, number 6?”

“Seven, actually.”

“Really? Well, won’t be long. Number 6 is a dick. He’ll be easy to knock out with the type of stats you’re pulling this year.” 

Somehow, this compliment bewilders you more than anything. Jordan must see it on your face, because she rolls her eyes again. 

“I keep an eye on the competition. Even if you are just a sophomore.”

“Okay, Junior.” You narrow your eyes at her. She narrows hers back, which feels like overkill, because she was already glaring. 

“So, what are you doing here?” 

“Did they hire you to be the bouncer for this party?” 

“Jesus, ‘m just making conversation. You looked like you were gonna hurl in there. What? Did your friends drag you here then ditch you?” 

“My friends would never do that. That violates the party safety rule. Arrive together, leave together.”

“Oh of course.” She says, nodding in a way that feels sarcastic. 

“I actually came without my friends.” You say, standing up straighter. Proud of yourself for stepping out of your shell even if it ended on a sour note. 

“You did?” Jordan raises an eyebrow. You deflate a little at the shocked tone. Even your TA thinks you’re lame. 

“Well…. I was supposed to meet someone here. But they… I dunno, I must’ve missed them. Or whatever.”

“Who were you supposed to meet?” 

You hesitate for a second, but they impatiently gesture for you to go on. So, begrudgingly you admit to, “Uuuuh… Andre?” 

“Andre?” In the blink of an eye they shift, and take a step closer. As if he wants you to see the disbelief on his face as clearly as possible. “How do you know Andre?” 

“What happened to we run in the same circle?” You snap back. “Andre’s top ten.” 

“Andre’s a fucking nepo baby.” Jordan scoffs

“Aren’t you friends?” You frown.

“Andre barely shows up to class, he knows why he’s top ten, trust me.” Jordan says. “Andre invited you?”

“Yes, Andre invited me. We were at the club last week and you know…talked.”

“You were at the club? You’re changing it up like crazy this year, huh L/N?”

“Lot of good it’s doing me.” You sigh. You twist the sleeve of your top, wrinkling the fabric. You’d spent hours picking out the perfect outfit that looked like you weren’t trying too hard, but brought out all your best features.

Jordan’s face twists, you’d almost mistake it for sympathy, “Did you see Andre at all tonight?”  

“Did he come here with you?” 

“Would you like me to lie or tell you the truth?” 

You sigh, moving to sit down on the porch steps, emotionally and socially exhausted. “It’s okay, I already know the answer.”

A moment of silence before Jordan moves to sit beside you. He offers back up the beer he took from you earlier, “You look like you could use a drink.” 

“Eh, you have it. If you’re not a germaphobe. Thanks for rescuing me.”

Jordan shrugs, takes a sip and almost spits it right back out, “God it tastes like fucking piss.” 

“You weren’t very nice to me during the rescue, so you didn’t deserve a warning.” 

“Well fuck me, I guess.” He laughs, staring at you. He let’s out a sigh of his own, “So which line did he use?” 

“Huh?”

“What did Andre say to you?” 

“He didn’t use a line.” You protest. 

“Andre doesn’t know how to do anything but use a line. Wait! Lemme guess,” Jordan looks you up and down before glancing at a few rings on your hand. “Were you wearing those?” 

You stare back at him. 

“Well?”

“Yes, I was, why?” 

“Did he come up to you with one of them and ask if you dropped it?” 

“.....Maybe. I repeat, why?” You ask, stomach twisting.

“Cause he slipped it off your finger with his powers so he’d have an opening. It’s his go to for girls that look shy. Seen it a million times.” 

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, actually. Fuck me!” You groan, laying back against the steps and throwing your hands over your face. “You’re really good at comforting people, did you know that?” 

“I’ve been told to work on it.” 

“Clearly not enough.” 

“Just didn’t want you to fall for the bullshit any more than you already have.” 

You scrub your face harshly, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat. “Sorry. Do you like apples? I can put a nice shiny one on your desk Monday morning as a thank you for the solid.” 

“Are you about to cry?” Jordan asks, bewildered.

“No.” 

“Over Andre Anderson?”

“No!” You sit up, glaring at him. He glares back. “Not exactly. It’s just… I don’t put myself out there a lot. So it sucks. That I tried… and all I got was a guy who fed me a line he’s used a million different times on a million different girls, who then ditched me at a party he invited me to. I should’ve just fucking stayed home.” 

You sniffle and then remember who you’re actually talking to and how awkward it’s going to be to see their face Monday morning for class if you keep spilling your guts. You stand up abruptly, already planning on apologizing for whatever you said while you were “drunk” tonight. You’re opening your mouth to make your excuses, already taking steps away from the stairs when Jordan reaches out, grabbing you gently by the wrist. 

“Wait! I’m… sorry, I mean-”

“Why are you sorry?” You sniff, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I could’ve… I could’ve been nicer. About telling you. About Andre.” Jordan pulls you to sitting back down beside him, slowly, so you can pull away if you really wanted to. 

“It’s okay. I should’ve known better.” You say quietly. 

“Hey, no. I made it sound like he’s super obvious about it but he’s honestly pretty smooth. His only hobbies are picking up girls and cocaine. He could make… fucking, I dunno, Ellen Ripley blush if he had the prep time! It’s really not your fault.” The comment surprises a wet laugh out of you and Jordan smiles, bumping your shoulders together. 

“Thanks, but he probably was obvious. I just… don’t see stuff like that coming very well.” You laugh bitterly.

“What do you mean?” 

“I apparently just can’t tell for shit when a guy is actually into me! Or just… entertaining himself.” You sigh. 

You and Jordan sit in silence for a second. You have no clue what’s going on in his head. You see him tapping his finger on the beer bottle, the sound of his rings the only noise for a moment. 

“I could help you.”

“Help me what?”

“I could teach you how to spot when a guy is just being an asshole or when he’s serious about you. So this doesn’t happen again.” Jordan shrugs, taking another swallow of the beer, flinching again at the taste. 

“Piss kink or short term memory loss?” 

“Offer retracted.” Jordan laughs.

“Why are you offering in the first place?” 

Jordan shrugs, looking out in the distance, “You’re… cool, y’know. Think of it as a welcome to the top ten gift. You’re only gonna get more and more attention now that you’re there. You’ll need to be able to sniff out bullshit or you’ll get eaten alive. No offense.”

“I’ve been in the top ten for the last six months.” You scowl. 

“Mazel tov.” 

“Dick.” You scoff, fighting back another laugh. You and Jordan make eye contact and both lose the battle, laughing together. 

You take a deep breath once the fit passes, “This isn’t a top ten humiliation ritual of initiation thing, right?”

“I’m way too busy to waste my time doing stupid shit like that.” Jordan says, familiar glare falling back onto his face.

“Sorry, rough night, had to ask.” You say sheepishly. “Offer still open?” You smile, extending your hand out for a handshake.

“Yeah, offers still open, L/N.” Jordan rolls his eyes, but he does shake your hand.

“So, number’s one pretty obvious but we have to establish the basics because you told me you were hopeless.” Jordan sips her chocolate milkshake. 

“Didn’t use the word hopeless, but sure.” You mutter, tossing a fry into your mouth and frowning at the lack of flavor. “Hit me.”

“If he calls off plans with you all the time he’s not interested. If he doesn’t give you as much heads up as humanly possible before he has to cancel a plan or bail then he might actually hate you.” 

“You’re exaggerating.” You scoff, shaking extra salt onto your fries.

Jordan reaches over, stealing one of your now delicious fries to dip it into her milkshake. “It’s a type of power play. Too many reasons to name why a guy might feel the need to pull something like that but we don’t wanna get too complicated. All you need to do is memorize the red flags and run when you see them.” 

“Okay…. follow up question, what would you consider to be ‘all the time’?”

“If you just started seeing each other and he cancels two dates in a row without desperately trying to make it up to you he doesn’t give a shit.” Jordan steals and dips another of your fries. 

“What about emergencies? Like… I dunno, a funeral? What if his Aunt died? So he cancels that one date. Then the next one he tries to plan his car breaks down or something, you know?” 

“He should call an uber and get to the fucking location of the date come hell or high water. That’s what a guy who likes you is gonna do. Don’t over complicate, L/N.”

“Oh and you don’t think you’re over-complicating the process of eating my fries?” You smack at her hand as it reaches for your plate for the umpteenth time during this lunch. “You could have ordered fries. Why didn’t you order fries?”

“Didn’t want any until I saw yours.” She tries again but you see the movement coming and block her hand, again. You did not notice the second, slightly sneakier hand that does successfully carry out the theft. 

“Did you just juke me over a fry? 

“Yeah, and I won.” 

You toss a fry at her and laugh when she manages to catch it with her mouth. Asshole.

You sit on the corner of Jordan’s desk, watching as he finishes up some last minute work that Brink asked him to do before heading out. You’d offered to meet back up later but he just shook his head and said it wouldn’t take long.

“What if he’s just a private person?” You ask, kicking your feet lightly. 

Jordan looks up from his laptop and frowns at you, “Why are you trying to invent exceptions to the rules? The rules are there to help you. Can you say that for me, L/N? Can you say the rules are there to help me?” 

“The rules are there to help me.” You repeat back, mocking their tone. 

“Thank you.” Jordan smirks at you, “Like I said, if he’s hiding your relationship from the world then he’s not serious about you. He should be introducing you to people. You should be on his social media. People should not be shocked you exist when meeting you. All that bullshit.” 

“And if they’re a private person?” You challenge.

Jordan pushes away his laptop, turning to face you. “Fuck me. The types of guys you’re gonna be around as a hero are all gonna be doing the same stuff as you. There’s gonna be a certain level of our life that’s always in the spotlight. Minimum of two posts a week if he’s constantly posting in general.” 

“I don’t post very much.” You counter.

“You should be posting more. Especially as a top ten. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be number 6 right now. You need to be more active on socials.” Jordan gives you a look before going back to typing. Two weeks ago that look would have put you on the verge of tears. Now you roll your eyes.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“It was an order as your TA, actually.” 

“Oh god, an order? I’m shaking in my boots.” You tease, playfully kicking his chair. 

“That just knocked your essay from a B- to a C, congratulations.” Jordan quips. 

“You were gonna mark my essay a B-, you dick? You know damn well I don’t turn in B- work. Who do you think-”

The rest of the afternoon is lost to playful outrage. The papers get graded late. Yours comes back an A+. No one besides you has gotten a grade of + anything since Jordan became TA. 

“Okay, so this is one with a grey area.” Jordan says.

“Oh no.”

“Shut up. If he never gets jealous that’s a red flag.” 

“But-” You sit up from where you’re laid out on the blanket you threw on the ground to better soak in the last warm rays of September sun. 

“I am not saying go out with some overly possessive fucking maniac.” Jordan cuts you off. 

“Be specific, Jordan. You can’t give me rules with built in exceptions. I’ll fail. Is that what you want? You want me to fail, Jordan? That’s messed up-”

“Shut up-” Jordan laughs, shaking her head. “Listen to me, if a guy never gets jealous he just doesn’t care at all. The most namaste, enlightened dude on the planet will get jealous in the right situation. I’m not saying tolerate anything crazy. It’s just good if he like… responds, when you say you’re going to study alone with another dude at 9pm, in the guy’s dorm... while his roommate is gone.”

“Is studying alone with another dude, in his dorm while his roommate is gone, okay as long as it ends before 9pm?”

Jordan rips out grass from the ground and tries to sprinkle it onto your face. You put up a force-field and laugh when she sticks her tongue out. 

“He’s gotta give you his full attention. When he’s with you, he’s with you. Everyone gets distracted. But if his head is always somewhere else, every time you see him, he just doesn’t like you.” Jordan swipes at your head, fast enough to be a challenge to dodge but not hard enough to hurt you had the hit connected. 

You go in for a kick yourself and he practically twirls out of the way. You try twice more, managing to evade his own hits just barely. 

Breathlessly, you gesture for a time out and Jordan sighs, “We gotta get you better at hand to hand.”

“That’s what my shields are for.” 

“The way you use your shields is really good. You’ve gotten a lot more creative this year. It’s why you’ve been jumping ranks so fast. You’re powerful.” 

The earnest tone he uses makes you lift up from the hunched over position of misery on your knees, “You think so?”

“Well…. yeah.” He clears his throat. “But you can’t get lazy. What if someone wears you out and you don’t have any energy left for them? No more shields. You need to be able to fight.”

“If I don’t have any energy left for my shields and my only option left is hand to hand combat, respectfully, it’s my time.” 

Jordan rolls his eyes, “Break’s over. Back in position, stay on your toes more so it’s easier to move, okay?” 

You’re about to get back into form when you hear calls of Jordan’s name from across the arena. You turn and see Luke and Cate coming over, wide grins on their faces. You give them a small wave and they both wave back, incredibly eager. 

You’ve always been friendly with one another but the strength of enthusiasm is… strange. Enough to make you blink in surprise.  

“Thought you said you were super booked up this week doing stuff for Brink? Absolutely no free time.” Cate asks, staring Jordan down. 

“This isn’t free time. I can’t slack on hand to hand combat training. It’s important.” Jordan stares Cate down even harder. 

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Luke asks casually. 

“Jordan saw my form in a video I just posted and apparently it was ‘despicable’ and ‘the most insane way he’d ever seen anyone do that before’. He rushed over to show me what the ‘right way to do it is’. Control freak.” You fake a cough as you say the last part.  

“You were gonna hurt your back!”

“Super healing.”

“Super herniated disc.” Jordan quips back and you scoff, shoving him. 

He shoves you back with an eye roll, fighting back a smile.

“How ungentlemanly of you.” You gasp. A shift, and she shoves you again making you laugh, “and unladylike!”

“You shoved me first!” 

“Children, please try and be civil we’re in public.” Luke cuts in and you almost jump at the sound of his voice. 

It’s easy to get lost in your own world when you’re with Jordan. You turn to be politely facing your classmates and not just Jordan, wearing a sheepish smile. 

“Stop teasing them. They’re cute.” Cate smiles.

“Anyways, you guys need something?” Jordan asks.

“We can’t just hang out? Are you trying to get rid of your best friends?” Luke asks.

“Yes.”

“Jordan!” You bump her with your elbow. 

“Okay, okay. We’ll leave you alone. Wanna grab lunch with us after though?” Cate asks, looping her arm through Luke’s.

“You feeling up to lunch, L/N?” Jordan looks over at you.

With three unexpected pairs of eyes on you, you fluster. “If you go easy on me for the rest of training, yes.”

“Not a chance.” Jordan snorts. “We’ll be there though. Now scram. L/N needs a lot of help.”

“No, I fucking do not!” You protest.

The two of you don’t notice Luke and Cate walking away trading looks.

“When you don’t know really know anything about him, it’s not a good sign.” Jordan tilts the bowl of popcorn towards you. 

“And what do you mean, specifically, by knowing anything about him?” You ask, taking some pieces and throwing them back.

“Has has ever shared his feelings? Talked about his personal life? If you don’t know anything besides the superficial stuff he doesn’t care about you.” Jordan states. “You also need to look out for him not knowing anything about you. Does he give you space to open up? Does he remember the shit you do tell him?”

“Got it, so just look out for the superficial surface level conversations if you never have any deeper moments.” You say.

“Exactly.” Jordan says before her eyes snap back to the screen suddenly. “Did they say they’re gonna try and make that house feel more ‘open concept’? What the fuck is their problem?” 

“Huh?” You look back to Jordan’s TV, which is playing Property Brothers. “You got a problem against open concept?” 

“I have a problem with every house being made to look the same, inside and out. It’s bad enough new houses don’t have unique floor plans. Now we’re taking houses that were unique and fucking them up till they’re boring! What ever happened to individuality? I bet they’ll paint the walls grey too. Fuck me.” She huffs, leaning back against the couch. 

“Are you really into this show or just really into design patterns?” You ask, charmed at her passion for something completely random. 

“A bit of both.” Jordan says. “I wanted to be an architect. Before I got my powers.” 

“Shut up! No, you did not.” 

“I did.” She laughs, “I used to draw up plans and torment my parents with them every hour of the day.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon talking about your hidden passions. 

You even get the honor of seeing a few of the sketches Jordan made years ago. They were crinkled at the edges, pencil markings dull with age in some places. You smiled down at the folder Jordan keeps the drawings in. When you look up, finally, to compliment them you notice a strange look on Jordan’s face. 

Thinking you’d made her self conscious with your long silence you wrapped an arm around her and told her she would have made a hell of an architect. And probably killed someone with the utter lack of load bearing beams in her structures. 

You expected her to shove you off playfully but she only leaned into you and smiled, flipping to the next page of the folder.

When you get back to your own dorm room, moon high in the sky, you have to stifle a laugh. The latest post on Jordan’s Instagram is a picture of you standing with your hands on your hips in the middle of their room, looking baffled. 

The caption: I handed her the remote and walked away for five minutes. We’ve been looking for almost an hour #jesus christ #banned from room 4ever. 

You step out into the hallway and call Jordan up, demanding they take down their character assassination attempt because you two only looked for 26 minutes, actually. 

They refuse. 

You’re so incensed by the exaggeration that you wind up back outside Jordan’s dorm room not ten minutes later. When she opens the door, and sees you standing there, she bursts into laughter. She drags you inside, and when you ask her when the ban got lifted she just throws you on the bed. You spend the rest of the night arguing semantics. 

You and Jordan were sitting in the ground floor of the school’s library where you were allowed to talk quietly. You were teaching them how to fold paper to make little stars while they were teaching you how to make the perfect paper airplane. 

“Are you filled with barely suppressed rage? Why is it so damn wrinkled?” You laugh at their mangled star.

Jordan grabs another piece of paper with a huff, pushing her bob back behind her ears. “You are shit at giving instructions. This is impossible. Do the steps slower again.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m actually not capable of slowing myself down times 3 like a Youtube video.” You tease.

“Fuck you.” Jordan kicks you under the table with her foot. “Again. Show me.”

“You start with this corner here, then you twist it over here, next you wanna-”

“Hey! Hey! What’s up people!” You and Jordan turn in perfect sync to hiss at the person to be quiet only to find that person to be Andre Anderson. 

You turn back towards the table, Jordan moves an arm to curl around the back of your chair. 

“Hey.” Jordan says flatly. You make some noise that you hope passes for a greeting.

“Sorry, too loud. So this is where the party is, huh? What’re you two doing?” Andre grabs a chair on the opposite side of the table and you frown, focusing intensely on the paper before you. 

“Don’t you have a class right now?” Jordan asks sharply.

“Blowing it off.” Andre grins back.

Jordan scoffs. You only notice your shoulders are practically up to your ears when Jordan puts her hand there and rubs. You relax, letting out a quiet breath you were holding. Jordan gives you a squeeze. 

“Awww, you making little stars? Cute. Wanna show me how, F/N?” Andre has the nerve to sound flirtatious. 

After ditching you without a word and radio silence to back it up. To really make sure there’s insult to match the injury. You clench your jaw. Keep moving your hands. Try to zone out. 

The hand on your shoulder gets bigger and so does the thigh that brushes against yours under the table. “Could you fuck off for a bit? We’re trying to relax after our exams this morning.”

“Ouch. Didn’t know you couldn’t relax with me around, man.” Andre bites back. “F/N, you want me to stay, don’t you?” 

You get up from the table abruptly. The sudden sting in your eyes doesn’t even allow you you to collect your things. Your chest feels tight. You have to just get out of here. You hope in a school of future superheroes no one will steal your stuff. You think you hear calls of your name from behind you. Some yelling. Your ears are ringing too much. You break into a sprint. 

You can’t even make it to your dorm. You have to settle for tucking yourself into the first patch of trees behind a building you can find. You try to fight back the tears. One breathe. Two. Three. Try to focus on the birds chirping somewhere above you. But the memories are all flooding in at once and you start to cry. Heaving, chest burning sobs.

“F/N. F/N. F/N, hey look at me.” You zone back into the world to Jordan pushing your hair away from your face and you sob.

“Fuck me, I’ll kill him. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d get so upset. You seemed like you didn’t care after that night… I-  I’ll fucking knock his teeth in.” Jordan hisses. You’d thought you’d seen them angry before. But their face has never looked like this.  

“What’s… are you having a panic attack?” Jordan asks, still petting your hair gently. You manage to nod. “Is touching you okay? Is it making it worse?” You push yourself into his hands and without another word he pulls you into his lap, tucking you against him. 

You notice absently he’s wearing his favorite jacket and try to shift, so that you’re not getting tears and snot onto the fabric. He pushes your head back against his shoulder, shushing you gently. You let yourself relax, letting out the rest of the tears. Letting the anxiety leave your body. You start your grounding techniques as your breathing evens. You can see the sharp cut of Jordan’s jaw. Hear his heartbeat. The birds chirping. Feel his hands as they rub soothing circles into your skin. Smell the cologne he wears. You tuck yourself closer, even though no more tears are coming. 

“Andre is a fucking loser.” Jordan says, quietly but vehemently, “You shouldn’t waste a second fucking thinking about him. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s not you. It’s just who he is.” 

“It’s not just Andre… It’s… it’s not even mostly Andre.” You say quietly. “I mean he’s a dick but… it just brings up memories.” 

“Memories?” Jordan echoes softly, and you know you don’t have to tell him anything but you want to. 

“When I was younger… I was even more of a wall flower than I am now. Shocker, I know.” You try to joke, Jordan only hums to let you know he’s listening, pulling you closer. “Even though I had powers I wasn’t popular or anything. I had trouble controlling them. Not enough to be dangerous… just enough to be… well, a loser, honestly. Because of my anxiety, and how loud my head gets my force-fields would just pop out whenever. I couldn’t stop it. If I was scared. If I got nervous. If I was feeling stupid, or ugly. All the time. People called me bubble girl.”

“I learned to just keep to myself but I was such an easy, fun target. Sneak up on the mouse and watch them jump and make a bubble! Fun!” You laugh bitterly. You think you feel Jordan kiss the top of your head, but you’re still out of it. “It made even getting out of bed to go to school hard. Administration wouldn’t take it serious as bullying because I was a supe: if I wanted it to stop I should defend myself.” 

“My parents felt the same way. Wouldn’t let me transfer. But I didn’t want to fight back. I didn’t want to turn myself into something I’m not just to be left alone! I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought eventually everyone would get bored, mature a little. But it just got worse and worse every fucking year. Senior year was… bad, though. I was getting better at controlling my powers so what kids would do to make me react was worse. But I just ignored it. I started just… pulling into myself. Whenever anyone would pour paint on my favorite outfit. Or cut my hair. Or hit me, I’d make the bubble in my head instead, and go there. Eventually, towards the end I thought people finally got bored, they stopped fucking with me as much. I thought I’d be able to graduate in peace.” 

“There was this one boy… he was popular. But he’d always been nice to me. He smiled at me in the hallways. Would help me up if people shoved me when he was around. He even gave me his sweater once, when someone cut up my shirt during gym. His friends were dicks but I thought he was different, I thought he was nice.”

“He suddenly started being even more nice to me. It felt… when he asked me to prom I just wanted to be normal for one second. I should have known. I probably did know. I just wanted to pretend, for five seconds, I wanted to pretend.” You trail off, lost in the memory.

“What happened?” Jordan asks, voice sounding hoarse. You try to pull back to see what’s wrong but he keeps you still. You realize he started rocking the both of you as you spoke. You didn’t realize how soothing it was. 

“It was a joke, obviously. We went to go shopping together, so we’d match, he told me. When we got to the shop he insisted we go to all his friends were waiting for us. Recording, of course. They all laughed at me. I still remember what one girl said, ‘you’re more crazy than we thought if you honestly ever believed someone like him would go out with a loser like you’.”

“F/N, those people were fucking assholes. They… god what the fuck is wrong with people. That’s not true.” Jordan makes you look at him, suddenly. You’re shocked that his eyes are red. “You’re not a fucking loser.”

“It’s okay, Jordan. I know they were just assholes. I always knew. It just hurts still. I’ve… I’ve avoided dating ever since, obviously. My first kiss wasn’t even romantic. It was just with a good friend that I knew wouldn’t make fun of me. So I could get it out of the way.”

“I’m sorry.” Jordan looks helpless, like he wants to do something but doesn’t know what. 

“You didn’t do anything, Jordan. No need to say sorry.”

“And then Andre went and fucking… fucking motherfucker I’ll kill him!” Jordan snaps, goes to stand up and then remembers he’s holding you halfway. He sits back down, grip a little tighter, but still gentle. 

“It’s okay. It wasn’t even a joke, what Andre did. He’s just… inconsiderate. And I happen to have a nasty experience that makes me blow everything out of proportion. I’ll have to get used to that kind of thing if I want to actually start dating.” 

Suddenly both of Jordan’s hands are on your face, holding you still so you have to look at him. “You’re not blowing anything out of proportion. And… and you don’t have to get used to shit, F/N. You’re fucking incredible. You don’t need to tolerate anything, from fucking anyone. You’re a fucking… you’re a fucking dream girl! You’re smart, and funny, and sweet, and strong, and beautiful. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. You don’t have to settle for fucking anything. Okay?”

You stare up at him, shocked, he gives your head a gentle shake, “Okay?” You nod slowly.

He pulls you into another hug, the tightest one you’ve ever gotten. You don’t pull away until the sun dips so low you’re both draped in gold. 

“Fucking rank number fucking 5!” Jordan screams, arm wrapped around you tightly. A chorus of cheers from the rest of the group and people nearby. 

You cover your face, laughing helplessly. Jordan didn’t surprise you with this party, they knew that would only make you anxious, walking into a room full of people you weren’t expecting to see with (even if asked not to) cameras pointed at you. 

Jordan had texted you: I am throwing you a surprise party on Friday night to celebrate your new ranking. Please practice your surprised face. 

You had practiced. You’d done a very convincing gasp when you walked in. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Jordan says, for the umpteenth time, looking at you. You feel your cheeks go hot.  

“Oh shut up. I’ll get a big head soon.” 

“You deserve it more than anyone. You’re fucking awesome.” Jordan had started heaping more praise onto you than you knew what to do with, most days. 

She claimed it was practically training. That you needed to get used to people complimenting you, with the level of fame you’re going to reach. That alone had made your stomach erupt into butterflies. Jordan believed in you. Really believed in you. 

“You’re the one who’s awesome… you’re a good mentor, Jordan.” You reach up to hold the hand that’s been wrapped around your shoulder all evening. 

“Are you saying that following my advice works?” Jordan pretends to gasp. You playfully dig your nails into her side and she jumps before grabbing the offending hand and holding onto it. She doesn’t let go. 

Her advice had worked. You posted on your social media more, at her insistence. You started to become a beast at hand to hand, thanks to Jordan’s brutal training regimen. You were socializing more, because as long as Jordan was there you felt safe. But you were even feeling confident enough to do things on your own that high school you would be shocked didn’t instantly send you to the grave. 

You’d done an interview, for God’s sake! All on your own. Although your eyes kept darting to Jordan right off camera, who smiled reassuringly the whole time.  

“I will not. Because then you’ll get a big head.” You tease, giving both her hands a squeeze. 

“Let’s get a drink.” Jordan says, tugging you towards the kitchen. 

It’s quieter in the kitchen. The drink table in the living room is still overflowing so no one’s had to start looking for leftovers yet. 

“How you feeling?” Jordan asks, helping you sit on the counter before going to the fridge. After a second he pulls out your favorite. He hid them in the far back, you can tell by how far he had to lean. 

“Good.” You smile as he pops your drink open before handing it to you. He leans against one of your knees. 

“Party isn’t too much, right?” He asks, for the third time tonight. 

Laughing you push a strand of unruly hair back from his face. He freezes at the touch, before a smile creeps onto his lips. 

“Party is perfect, Jordie. Thank you. For everything. For being so…” 

“Don’t thank me for treating you the way you should always be treated.” 

“You treat me like a princess! What if I get spoiled? You’ll have to deal with a monster.” You tease. “You won’t even be able to be mad at me, because you’ll be the reason.” 

“You’ll terrorize the world.” 

“Cause complete chaos.” 

“Devastation, even.” As Jordan speaks you realize you’d gotten closer. A lot closer. Your chest seizes up with anxiety as you wonder how long you’d been leaning in like this. You almost pull back, ready to apologize. But you’re frozen stiff now and realize the two of you are still getting closer. With a jolt you realize you both leaned in. 

Jordan has a hand on your thigh, you reach down, nervous, to hold his hand as reflex. It’s an every day comfort, lately. You give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back. You don’t pull away as Jordan keeps leaning in. 

“Jordan! Come stop Luke from doing a keg stand, please!” Cate’s voice, typically pleasant sounds incredibly annoying at the moment. 

“Gimme a sec!” Jordan calls back, still looking you in the eye. You squeeze his hand tighter. He looks nervous. They’ve looked so nervous all night. Nervous you were having a good time. Nervous you were happy. Nervous… nervous to kiss you? Is he about to fucking kiss you?

“He has an interview tomorrow! Hustle please!” Cate calls back in a sing song tone. 

“Fuck me!” Jordan throws his head back, shifting, frustrated. “I’ll be right back, okay?” 

You nod, a little breathless from anxiety and excitement, and dread, and the full spectrum of human emotion. “Okay.” 

Jordan stomps out of the kitchen, probably going to rip Luke a new asshole from the sound of her boots on the floor. She sounds like her own stampede. You giggle, pressing your hands, still warm from holding Jordan’s into your face. You may be bad at signals but… 

You sit under the hideous fluorescent kitchen lighting feeling like something inside you is glowing. You kick your feet, nervous, waiting for Jordan to get back. Wondering what they’ll do. What they’ll say. If you’re delusional. You have to be delusional. You have to be. 

“Guard dog taking a walk?” In the doorway stands Andre, looking a little rougher than usual. His right eye is dark, like a black eye that’s started healing. There’s a small bandage over his nose. 

“What happened to you?” You gasp.

“Your guard dog.” Andre says, reaching into the fridge to pull out a bottle of spicy vodka. “Jordan’s number #2 for a reason. Congrats on making #5 by the way.” 

“Thanks.” You say. “When did Jordan do that?”

“A week ago. Would have probably gotten it earlier but apparently Cate talked them into waiting to see me until they were less pissed off. For which I’m eternally grateful.” He says, taking a sip straight from the bottle without chaser. 

You don’t really know what to say so you sit in silence. Legs still kicking, more from anxiety now, less from giddiness. 

“He gave me a busted lip too, but that healed pretty quickly. I also think he might have kicked a rib loose, been a little sore on the left side.” Andre says, he doesn’t seem to be angry but you don’t know why else he’d talk to you. 

“I didn’t ask Jordan to do that. If you’re wondering.” You say, slowly. 

“No! No! You’re way too sweet for that. This was just my shitty way of getting around to an apology. I’m sorry. I should’ve said sorry before Jordan kicked my ass but I promise Jordan kicking my ass isn’t why I’m saying sorry. The original plan was to ask you out again, make it up to you with dinner. Jordan just kicked my ass first.” 

“I hope to god you’re not working your way around to asking me on a pity date.” You narrow your eyes at him. 

“So Jordan could put me in a full body cast?” Andre laughs loudly, shocking you. “No offense, you’re really cute, but nothing’s worth that fucking beat down.” 

“Well, I guess I accept your-”

“You don’t have to forgive me. Jordan was pretty clear that I tore up some old wounds. I didn’t mean to, but I’m sorry. I can just be… a dick, sometimes. Often. All the time.” Andre jokes. 

“What did Jordan say exactly?” You ask nervously. 

“Nothing specific! I could barely pick out anything at all, really. The sound of her fist breaking my nose was pretty loud.” 

You laugh then try to cover it up by taking a sip. Andre grins and you relax, knowing it was his way of breaking the tension. 

“Can I ask you something?” Andre asks suddenly.

“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” You shrug.

“Fair enough.” Andre says, toying with the bottle. “Do you like Jordan?” 

“What?”

“Because Jordan sure likes you.” Andre states. 

“No, they don't.” It’s a reflex to deny the possibility of someone having feelings for you but the words feel wrong once you say them. Weren’t you just about to kiss? Wasn’t his hand just burning into your thigh like a brand? “Do they?” 

“Jordan would never do a fraction of the shit they’ve been doing for you if they didn’t care about you.” Andre takes another sip, then moves to saunter from the kitchen. He stops, a glance over the shoulder. “However you feel, tell Jordan. And soon. They’re looking a little desperate.” 

Then it’s just you and the sound of the party, and the cool marble you’re sitting on. And a lot to think about. 

“Your incessant leg jiggling is distracting me from how and why they intend to turn this beautiful victorian home into another soulless open concept millennial nightmare.” Jordan says, glancing from the TV to your leg which, yes, has been jiggling for awhile.

“I’ve got a question.”

“Obviously.” 

“How can you tell if a girl isn’t into you?” 

Jordan turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed, “what?”

You feel heat flood your cheeks, but keep your eyes firmly glued to the screen. “Are the rules the same? Or different?”

“You like girls?” Jordan blurts out.

“What?” The question is enough to make you look at her. And now you're trapped by societal standards of politeness to maintain the most anxiety inducing eye contact you've ever shared.

“You've never talked about… you've never said anything about liking girls.”

“You only offered up the help for the one gender. Didn't wanna get greedy.” You force a laugh.

“How long have you…. have you always liked girls?” Jordan asks and you hope to God you're not hallucinating that quick glance at your lips. 

“You follow me on Instagram!”

“What's that have to do with anything?”

“I literally have the pride flag in my bio?”

“I thought you were-”

“-Jordan Li, if you're about to tell me you thought I was an ally I'll beat you to death, and then jump off a cliff.” 

Jordan laughs, ducking her head, hair falling into her face slightly. You dig your fingers into your thigh to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear. 

“Is there a reason why you're asking… about how to tell when a girl isn't into you, all of a sudden?” Jordan looks up at you and the world narrows down to her brown eyes, and her nose, and her mouth. And the look in her eyes you hope you're not reading wrong.

You blink in confusion when amusement crosses over her face and for one awful second you think Jordan is laughing at you and you could throw up. But you realize you're suddenly looking at her from behind a force-field of light purple and feel queasy out of a different sense of embarrassment.

You can hear a smile in Jordan’s voice, but you refuse to unbury your face from your hands, “Never seen you not be able to control your powers before.” 

“Please kill me.”

“Can't. Your forcefield is still up, princess.” She teases, tapping at the bubble. 

With a groan of humiliation you drop your field and peek up at her through your fingers. 

“First the forcefield, now the hands. Still haven't answered my question though.” You almost snip at her that she should take a wild guess at your answer but there's something about Jordan’s expression. It's teetering between playful, guarded, and… something else. And you have to bank on whatever that something else is.

You take a deep breath in and move in closer, “You're not so awful a teacher that the lessons for a guy didn't stick, but considering you're a girl too who knows what incredibly important lesson you didn't know you had to teach me. The lesson… the girl lesson, that would have stopped me from misinterpreting what's been happening here. If I’m misinterpreting. All I know is… all I can really be sure of, is how I feel. And I, well-” You bite your lip, taking a shaky breath, and Jordan moves in closer, “I'm about halfway to being in love with you.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before her lips are on yours. Her hand curls at the base of your neck, pulling you in closer. A brush of her tongue against your bottom lip before you let her in with a breathless sigh. She moans against your lips, other hand moving to your waist to tug you into her lap. 

You lose your balance a little, fall into her in a way that is not at all seductive. You laugh, embarrassed and she chases the sound, using both hands to put you in her lap, holds you there firm and secure.

“You-” She kisses you, interrupting your sentence. “Haven’t-” Another kiss. “Told me-” She holds you tight this time, tilting her head to the side, sweeping her tongue against yours and gasping at your taste. You pull back with shaky hands, keeping her at a distance with a grip on her shoulders.

“Could we use our big girl words?” You ask, breathless and a little dizzy. 

“I’ve fucking only been in love with you for two years, thanks for fucking noticing.” She huffs, exasperated and smiling. 

“How on Earth was I supposed to interpret your seething stare of hate for being in love with me?” You’re already melting against her as she pulls you back in with the guiding grip on your hair. 

“Shoulda looked harder, baby.” She coos, and doesn’t let you up again anytime soon. 

A/N: my magnum opus of pining! if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[arthenaa]

UN Village — roommate!mizu x f!reader

synopsis: a glimpse into the life after being 'just' roommates.

content: 18+, nsfw, gay ass sex, gay ass losers, gay gay gay, short domestic glimpses of your life with mizu as your gf slash roommate slash best friend and your cat named nora. can be read as a one shot, you and mizu call each other bon/bonnie as an endearment, she/her pronouns for both reader and mizu.

author's note: this is a compilation of the requests I received from my inbox! namely the ones requesting hcs plus nsfw parts. (to that one anon with a specific request for the nsfw part, know that ill be going along with some of your ideas! will be tweaking it a bit <3) i also have a hc that mizu is well off ... both bc of her father's hard work and that she also has a stable job despite still being in university. anys, enjoy!

parts: blurred lines, mizu as your roommate

Life as a couple wasn't all that different—a realization you've reached after observing your first few months with Mizu together. Aside from the access to overly exaggerated kisses and must-have energy-charging hugs, things were the same as they were before.

Grocery shopping on Saturdays is still a rotational thing, you cook, she cleans—sometimes when both of you feel a little too lazy to cook dinner, take-outs from that diner near 2nd Street are a must. She walks you to class, drives you to wherever you want, and you buy her her favorite tea as a reward for working hard.

If anything, your domestic rituals have been quite rewarding whenever you've come to the realization that yes, Mizu is yours and that you don't have to deal with all the angsty shit that came with having that realization. Everything was a breeze.

Speaking of working hard, Mizu had been quite busy as of late. Always unintentionally locking herself up in her room or getting home late some days. You knew her schedule well enough that this wasn't a result of her academics but of her work. You never knew how Mizu could balance her work and academic life so well but you suppose that's part of what makes her so ... Mizu.

You could see the exhaustion from the way she touches her temple more often or the bouncing of her knee whenever you two plan on working on requirements at the library (the librarian had been lenient with her judgment after the two of you gave her 'sorry' cookies the other day, it was quite funny). You knew that Mizu was getting overwhelmed with whatever she was dealing with at work.

So, as the loving girlfriend that you are, you wanted to give her a time to rest and motivation to overcome whatever block that's hindering her creativity and process in completing her work.

You make careful footsteps towards her room—shushing Nora who mews softly at your feet. You balance the tray to one arm as the other gently reaches to twist the doorknob. The hinges on the wooden door squeak as you push it open, revealing your girlfriend hunched over her desktop. Her room is as simple as it can be, white walls adorned with a few of her framed pictures—some were posters of her favorite bands and films while the others were collages of her favorite moments, captured by a camera she had bought on her first paycheck. You see the infamous cactus you gifted her on her birthday perched on top of her shelves alongside a few books and comics that she collected over the years. The minimalistic feel of her room does bring a calming effect whenever you enter her space (which is why more often than not, sleepovers are in her room than yours). Your attempts to not disturb her work continue due to the noise-canceling headphones pulled over her head. You see Mizu pinch the bridge of her nose, her glasses nudged up before she adjusts them back on her face. Your eyes soften at the view.

Gently placing the tray on her dresser, you make careful steps towards her hunched figure before moving to wrap your arms around her shoulders. She tenses for a moment but at the whiff of your familiar scent, she immediately melts in your touch. You pull away slightly as she pulls her headphones off, placing it on the table before going back to your previous position.

"Hey," You softly murmur, cheek pressed to her temple. She hums at your voice, eyes still trained on her tablet perched on a stand. "How are you doing?"

Mizu twirls her digital pen in her hand—the stiff length of her pen gliding smoothly along her fingers. She nudges your head to acknowledge your presence. "Fine," She says.

You knew Mizu tends to downplay her feelings a lot. It was a common problem you both encountered throughout both your friendship and relationship. She tends to be more service-giving and prioritizes your welfare over her own. While you truly appreciate her attentiveness to your well-being, it does bring concern whenever she says things that don't really resonate with how she looks and feels. You've since learned to grow atoned to her body language—knowing at a glance at her mannerisms and communicating more definitely helps a lot in the long run.

You place a kiss on her temple, hugging her tight as she focuses back on her task. You decide not to push too much on it. "Did you get assigned new work?"

Mizu hums, nodding slightly as she makes quick notes on her tablet. "Yeah. They needed a lot of manpower on this one."

Your arms move back to grab her shoulders, thumbs making circular motions on the area available to you. Mizu sighs at the feeling. "So it's a big project, huh?"

Mizu nods once more before pausing. There's a slight reprieve as you continue to ease the tense muscles on her shoulders. She then turns slightly, eyes looking up at you both in curiosity and gratefulness. "What's up with you?"

You smile down at her, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips before turning towards the tray of her favorite food on her dresser. "Got you some food and your favorite tea."

Mizu lightens up at your words, turning in her office chair and pulling you between her legs. She buries her face on your stomach, hands on your hips. "Thank you, Bonnie."

Her words pull a flush from your cheeks—still getting butterflies from her attention. You gently pat the top of her head, making sure not to stress the already messy bun haphazardly tied on a whim. A few strands of her hair escape the hairdo with each gentle slide of your palm on her head. You let out a grumble, hands making their way to pull the tie off her hair. Mizu chuckles at your movements.

"Was I too quiet?" Mizu asks as she feels your hands run through her hair—gathering all the strands with careful swoops. You hum at her response.

"Not really," You respond as you twist her hair in its usual style before beginning to tie it off with her hair tie. "Why?"

Mizu blinks softly, enjoying your ministrations on her head. She yawns. "I don't know. Just worried that I might've been ignoring you or something."

You pause at the last twist of her tie, gently pulling away to take a look at her face. The exhaustion is evident—bags under her eyes, eyes blinking slow, and the slouch on her posture. However, despite it all, her eyes and face remain softened and loving at the sight of you. A soft smile pulls from your lips.

"You haven't," Your hands gently cup her face as you angled it up towards you. "You don't have to worry about a thing, Mizu. Whatever you need, I'll be right here."

She gazes into your eyes, processing your heartfelt words before a genuine smile bursts from her lips. Your heart thunders at its brightness and you can't help but return its intensity.

"I love you." She murmurs, eyes filled with gratitude. You revel in its warmth.

"I love you too."

"Mizu?" You call out to the empty living room, not noticing the familiar raven-haired girl typically lounging in the living space around this time. You knew because Mizu often tends to do her leisure time in the living room where it has an open space and just an overall change of pace in the morning. You had gone out to do the groceries as Mizu did hers last week. You half expected her to be at the same spot when you returned but didn't overthink it. She was probably back at her room or fixing up that clog in the bathroom. You placed your shoes on the side before walking towards the kitchen to drop the grocery bags.

You begin to place the items in their respective places before realizing another equation to the problem. Nora was also nowhere to be found. Your heart speeds up,

"Nora? Mizu?" You call out, placing the bag of fruits down to find you two missing culprits. "Where are you?"

While Mizu was a generally quiet person and Nora being stealthy like a damn mosquito, they often wandered to your presence and so you expected that your girlfriend would call back and Nora's feet would begin to pitter patter its way towards you. There were only a few other options that you could consider where those two disappeared to. First, Mizu must have taken her out for a walk. Nora tends to be restless in the morning and prefers going out when the sun is high and the temperature is just right. Second, probably in Mizu's bedroom—those two tend to nap when you're not in sight, probably because most of the time their energy is just you with 5% of their actual energy. You decide to go with the second option for now.

You make careful steps towards Mizu's room, knocking on the wooden surface before opening the door. The lights are off and the room's spotless. Mizu must be out. You turn towards your room just in case. You're greeted with the bed you made this morning. You scratch your head in thought, confused as to where those two might have gone.

Just as you begin to worry, the sound of the door's security system unlocking through the keypad resounds through the hallway. You make your way towards the living space to see Mizu with an armful of carboard boxes and Nora trailing behind her. They both pause at the sight of you.

"Oh," Mizu blinks at you as if she had been caught sticking her hand somewhere she shouldn't have. You blink back in response. "You're home."

Nora meows in response to your rather unexpected predicament. Your eyes dart from Mizu, to Nora, to the boxes in Mizu's arms.

"... What's that?" You watch as Mizu gently places the items down with a sigh before turning towards you with a sheepish smile.

"I got Nora a tower," She responds hesitantly, gauging your reaction to her response. There's a few moments of silence as you process the information.

You remain speechless. If anything, you were the one who mostly spoils Nora. Having too much similarities to your grumpy looking girlfriend, you couldn't help but coddle the kitty. Mizu on the other hand tends to bond with cat through silent stares or squinting at each other as if they have their own form of communication. It's safe to say that you're quite amused at the fact that Mizu was the one who brought her

A laugh escapes your lips at the thought, watching as Mizu furrows her eyebrows in confusion while Nora simply meows beside her.

"How did you even—" You cover your mouth in an attempt to calm yourself down from the impending laughter. "When did you even get this?"

Mizu rolls her eyes. "I got it last week. When you had class—" She pauses at the sound of your laughter. "Why is this so funny to you?"

You grin at her grumpy attitude. "I just didn't expect that you'll be the one getting her the tower. I thought you settled for the treats?"

Mizu snorts as she settles down on the carpeted floor, pulling one of the smaller boxes towards her. "Since when was I limited to that?"

You grin excitedly, rushing over to her side with ease. Mizu chuckles at your enthusiasm. You place a kiss on her cheek causing your girlfriend to pause and turn her attention towards you.

"That's so hot of you, Bonnie," You coo, utterly enamored by her. Mizu's soften, the corner of her lips upturned.

There's a softened tension between the two of you as Mizu's eyes roam all over your face. There's a mischievous look on her face. "All it takes for me to get between your legs is a cat tower, really?"

You grin wide at her words. You decide to tease back. "Can you blame me? That's wife material right there."

Mizu drops the box on the floor before finally turning her body to you with an eyebrow upturned. "So you're saying you'll marry me over a cat tower?"

You shrug. "I mean, you, breathing is enough—"

You squeal as you feel the sudden rise of your body from the ground. Mizu sweeps you into her arms, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other gripping your thigh. You flush in her hold as you wrap your legs around her waist.

You squirm in her hold. "Mizu, I didn't say now!"

The raven haired woman pays no attention to your whims as she steps over the boxes and begins to make her way towards her room. "We can do that later." She hums, carrying you with ease.

You turn towards Nora who stares up at both of her parents, innocently licking her paw. "N-Nora!" You whine over Mizu's back. "Nora, help mommy!"

The cat only stretches—letting a loud meow before it jumps on the couch and curls into a ball. You whine at the lack of attentiveness to your apparent danger as your girlfriend chuckles at your try of escaping.

"The cat won't help you, y'know?"

"Mizu!"

"What about this?" Your eyes lock with your girlfriend through the mirror as you fix the front of your dress. Akemi's birthday is just around the corner and plans of going out had been arranged and planned out. The birthday gal had wanted to celebrate her night at a club and your wardrobe lacked the proper attire for an occassion like that. So you went shopping.

The thing is, Mizu had always been your outfit decision-maker. You didn't think much of it before when her gaze landed on yours whenever you showed her an array of outfits for whatever occasion. Now, you feel her stare more intensely as if a knife had delicately touched its tip against your skin and marked its way down with a gentle grip—not enough to harm but enough to entice a reaction.

The dress you chose was satin with a color of your choice—backless and hung around your curves nicely. You subtly turn your body as you admire its simplistic design. Mizu hums from her position on the bed, laying on her side with her elbow propped up to support her weight. You see her tilt her head, eyes taking their sweet time to analyze your figure.

"Bon?" You ask as you turn towards her. Her eyes are half-lidded and you can sense from a mile away the familiar look on her face but you remain ignorant of the tension brewing between you. You choose to turn back towards the mirror, fixing your hair as you adjust the straps. "I don't know if it's fit for a nightclub or an evening dine."

You hear Mizu hum. Just then, you hear shifting on the bed before sock-cladded feet pad through the wooden floors. You see Mizu's figure behind you in the mirror—the subtle size difference of her broad shoulders compared to you heats your cheeks. Her arms make their way around your waist, pulling you flush against her chest as she props her chin on your shoulder. Your eyes lock on the reflection in the mirror as you take careful notes of her appearance. Hair pulled in a half bun, blue eyes devoid of their usual black-rimmed glasses, figure clad in black with a familiar gold chained necklace wrapped loosely around her neck, and her wrist adorned by a silver watch you gifted her on her birthday last year. You heave a breath at the intensity of her stare.

"You look pretty," She mumbles, eyes lost in your figure before placing a soft kiss on your neck. A shiver runs through your spine at her affection, feeling it take course through the expanse of your shoulder. It's slow and soft—making sure each scar and imperfection is not left untouched. You squirm in her arms.

"Mizu," You hum, voice deep and sultry as you lean your head back, allowing her more space to work with. "You're not working with me."

The raven haired gal laughs against your skin as she continues with her ministrations. You feel her hands rumple the fabric, clutching the soft satin material as it bunches up between her fingers. The hem rises up to your thighs, granting your lover a sweet view of home.

"What?" She asks with a teasing tone. You grumble at her mischievous nature. "I was just answering your question."

"I asked if it fit—" You moan slightly as she sucks on the familiar spot behind your ear. "N-not if I was hot. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Her breath hits your ear with a slight deep chuckle of her voice. You feel her trail her kisses towards the nape of your neck, hands beginning to caress your thighs. You watch as the hem of your dress practically rise up to the top of your thighs, granting no sense of decency. You whine as you feel her kiss down your shoulder blades, tongue licking out to mouth at the valley between your shoulders.

"You're so unfair," You breathe out, back arching as she slides her hands to your hips, pulling you back against hers. She smiles, nudging your head to the side as she buries hers against your neck. Your eyes meet at the reflection, gauging each other's response. You would've thought that her ministrations would end then and there but you shouldn't have underestimated your girlfriend. After all, it's always the quiet ones.

Mizu boldly cups your cunt over your dress—a moan escaping your lips. She pulls you flush against her as she nips against the tip of your ears. You remain pinned against her chest, her arm strength keeping you close.

"You fucker," You pant, mouth opening up to a grin as you gripped her arm. She merely gives a you a smirk as she hikes her hand up, grinding her palm against you. Your knees falter.

"I give you my opinion and you curse me out?" Mizu laughs against your ear, placing a peck on your cheek. "Not cute, babe."

"God, you're so annoying," You sigh, hand reaching out to bury itself in Mizu's raven locks. Your girlfriend merely hums, eyes watching you get lost in the pleasure of her fingers. It's as if the fuse in Mizu's head had began to run out of course, she then pulls away from your back and turns you towards her with ease.

You flush as she manhandles you in her arms, pulling you up to wrap your legs around her waist. You grasp at her shoulders at the sudden movement. She pauses, eyes calculating as she eyes you up like a predator waiting for its prey to back down, and knowing you, you'd never back down just like that.

You wrap your arms around her neck, leaning close to brush your lips against hers. "Gonna pull this dress off me or what?" You hum, nose brushing against hers. "If you're too busy eyeing me up instead of fucking me, I got a pretty handy vibrator back in my cabinet."

She chuckles at your boldness, jaw clenching at your words. "You're a fucking brat, y'know that?"

You giggle as she moves you towards the bed. "Gets you every time."

"Why are you limping like that?" Ringo asks you one day as you met up with him and Akemi for class. Thank the Gods that Ringo is naturally innocent like that. It saves you the embarrassment of having to tell two people what Mizu did to you in the morning. Akemi, however, merely raises an eyebrow at you—shaking her head like a disappointed mother. You had underestimated the time it took to get ready, and Mizu in bed wasn't exactly a good component in your determination to focus in the morning. Add the fact that your horny and Mizu is feeling quite energetic at 7 am.

"When I said that I'm happy for you, I was hoping that you'd get to keep the private matters of your relationship finally to a minimum and not for the whole world to see," Akemi deadpans. Ringo looks at her with furrowed eyebrows. "It's quite contradicting but you get my point."

You give her a sheepish smile at her words while Akemi merely sips on her iced coffee. Ringo turns to you with a smile, his hand forming a thumbs up. "Ignore her, I am happy for you."

Akemi grumbles, shifting her leg over her knee. "Can we not talk about this right now? We're about to have an exam."

You and Ringo share a playful look at Akemi's quips, not wanting to be at the receiving end of Akemi's fury. The classroom was slowly filling in with students—all having the same look of despair and exhaustion for the test in a few minutes. You turn towards your bag, hand rummaging through the array of essentials carefully packed from the night before. Your eyebrows furrow as you can't feel the familiar material of your pen case.

"Oh fuck," You murmur, tone panicking as you peered inside your bag. Ringo and Akemi glance at you in concern.

"What?" Ringo asks, ever the concerned hubby that he is. You let a shaky breath as you can't see the familiar cat patterned pen case that Mizu gifted to you last year. Your essentials for the test were in there! While a pen might've been easy to borrow, the other materials were definitely something you couldn't get away with. You turn to Akemi and Ringo with a frown.

"I think I left my pen case at the dorm." You huff in frustration, glancing at the front to check the time. "I can't go back, there's not enough time."

Akemi sighs, head nudging to your phone. "Check with your girlfriend. She might be nearby."

Your shoulders lower in hesitance. "It's class hours. Don't you think I'll be a bother?"

Ringo chuckles quietly in his seat. "You think Mizu would care about that?"

Akemi snorts before propping her arm on the table to place her chin on her palm. "What he said."

You sigh, contemplating your options before finally giving in.

You put your phone down on the surface of your table, cheeks heating up from the conversation. 15 minutes pass with ease and you're left twiddling your thumbs as you glance back and forth from the door to the clock in front.

Just as she said, Mizu appears at the small window of the door, hand waving awkwardly as she raises your pen case. You immediately stand up from your seat, earning curious glances from Akemi and Ringo. You pay them no mind as you shuffle your way to the door, gently opening it to not draw attention before closing it with a soft push behind you.

"Hey," Mizu's deep voice infiltrates your senses as you turn towards her. You immediately take note of her outfit—dark blue rayon skipper collared blouse with sleeves that reached her arms halfway, pale brown slacks cuffed to her ankles, and a pair of white sneakers. Her hair is in its usual bun with the added flare of her orange tinted glasses. You snicker.

Mizu sighs, tilting her head with a deadpan stare. "Why are you laughing?"

You glance at the empty corridor before wrapping your arms around her waist. "You look like a walking sponsor for Uniqlo."

Mizu scoffed, raising the hand grasping the pen case before gently bonking it on your forehead. "You ought to be more thankful to me, pretty."

You grin up at her, hugging her close as you prop your chin on her sternum. You squint your eyes, giving her your most mischievous look. "I'll be sure to put that on my new year's list."

Mizu rolls her eyes, pushing you gently off her before jokingly slamming your pen case on your hand. "There," She says before presenting another paper bag on your hand. "Also, here."

You glance at the paper bag then at her—those perfectly thick and plucked eyebrows arching at you as she waves the paper bag for you to take. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "What's that?"

Mizu shrugged as you peered inside to see a half filled cup of your favorite drink in a large size. You look up at Mizu who tilts her head to the side with a smile. "I got it this morning. Meant to save some for you."

You purse your lips as your heart softens at the gesture. "Mizu," You coo. The gal only leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead.

"Now go ace that test, bon," She smiles. "I'll get you after class."

She waves you goodbye before jogging towards the elevators. You sigh dreamily as she disappears into the corner before walking back inside your classroom. You maneuver your way towards your desk, earning a couple of side glances from Akemi and Ringo.

You sit down, giddily settling down on your seat before you hear someone clear their throat beside you.

"Homesexuals," Akemi clears her throat beside you to which Ringo snorts at. You shoot a glare at them in response.

Mizu is generally, a patient person.

Despite her grumpy responses towards Ringo or her perpetual furrowed eyebrows, eyes squinted into a glare, and her frowned lips whenever Taigen enters the scene, Mizu still is a patient person. You've rarely seen her angry and when she does become angry, it often comes out in seething silence. Eyes that bore into the depths of your soul, face hardened enough to not show any emotion, and a stance evoking authority and dominion over the situation.

You saw it once. When a guy tried to force himself on you during a campus party. It was an unfortunate event really and you didn't want things to escalate but the man didn't back down with his flirting (if you could even call it that). Let's just say that the night ended with a bruise on their face and it's definitely not Mizu.

You're well aware that your girlfriend can pack a punch and certainly knows how to use it. She's well built and has a lot of strength for someone her stature. Taigen calls it a sleeper build—a passing glance from when Mizu helped out with moving Akemi's furniture to her new condo. You definitely agree with that.

That's why you're internally panicking for the aftermath of a similar situation from Akemi's birthday nightout.

"Mizu," You pant, trying to call for her attention but the blinding force of her anger continues to drive her need for you. "Mizu—Ngh! Please listen to me—"

Mizu continues her ministrations on your neck, paying no mind to your squirming body as her hand grabs your thigh with ease—anchoring it to her waist as she slots her torso between your legs.

"Fuck," She growls against the skin of your neck, hair in disarray from the sloppy and heavy makeout session on the way to your bedroom. You vividly remember knocking a frame off your console table when Mizu slammed you against its edge. "I should've fucked him up."

You whine at the bite of her teeth on your shoulder—grasping at her shoulders. "Baby, we have to talk about this—"

Her thigh slots between your legs and hikes it up against your cunt—you mewl at the pressure. Mizu pulls away from your shoulder, licking her lips as she peers down at you with darkened shades of blue. "Talk? You want to talk?"

Her tone resounds with mockery and sarcasm, a seething remembrance of her fury from just a few hours ago. Typically, this behavior would startle you at first but you've grown to learn and love this blue-eyed woman after the years you've spent pining and being oblivious to each other's affection.

"You're not going to do this to me, Mizu," You snarl back, letting out a breathy sigh as her free hand begins to move your hips against her thigh. "You made us leave Akemi's party because of this—that's not–Hngh—t-that's not okay—Fuck!"

Mizu darkly chuckles as she begins to roam her hand underneath your dress. "You talk too much for someone who's about to get fucked."

"Shut the fuck up," You try to return the dominance but her skillful pulls and push of your hips leaves you breathless and keening at her touch. "That guy isn't even worth it, why'd you even—why?"

Mizu feels the inside of your thigh, reveling in the soft flesh as she creeps closer to your mound. "Didn't like the way he looked at you. Mothefucker had the audacity to ask for your number as if he didn't see my hand gripping your thigh. I fucking hate that."

You feel her fingers teeter over the edge of your panties—skin thumbing the material of your underwear, a surprise you wished would be unveiled in different circumstances.

Mizu kisses your pulse point, making sloppy kisses on the area as she continues to speak. "Everything's worth it if it's you."

You arch and mewl at her words, head moving back to give her more room. Mizu smiles at your reaction.

"You like that?" She chuckles deeply. "Like it when I'm being possessive, huh?"

"Oh God," You groan. "Are you going to fuck me or what?"

Mizu pulls away from your neck, brushing her nose against yours as she peers down at your irritated features. "So demanding," She smiles as she leans close and brushes her lips against yours.

Having had enough, your hand grabs her raven tresses—gripping it as you pull her down to close the distance between your mouths. It's all wet and full of passion—desperate sliding of lips against yours. She tilts her head, begging for deeper access as she slides out her tongue to feel more of you. There's a battle for dominance—a battle she's desperately winning. You pull away with a bite on her bottom lip, gently pulling it before licking your lips.

"Damn." Mizu lets out a breathless chuckle from the kiss, all the more turned on from your confident nature. You smile up at her with a grin.

"I suggest putting all that anger into something useful," You pant as you guide her hand to pull your dress up more.

You watch as she pulls the dress off, eyes widening at the lingerie set you've worn for the night. You see her hunger double at the sight.

"Fuck me up, Mizu." You mewl as you arch your back to present your body to her. Her jaw clenches at your words.

Just as you had said those words, you yelp in surprise as she pulls you down the bed—sheets ruffling in the process before pinning your legs to your chest.

"I'll fucking kill anyone who gets to see you like this," Her words are dark—an apparent shiver running through your spine at the process. You mewl at her domineering figure, watching as she marvels at the way the fabric highlights your figure.

Mizu then moves the fabric covering your cunt to the side, letting out a shaky breath at the process. She dives in without hesitance, tongue poking out to take a straight and slow lick from your hole to your clit.

"Oh!" You moan loudly, hand darting to grasp at her raven locks. "Fuck!"

She wastes no time in eating you out—licking and slurping as if this is the last meal she'll ever have. Your thighs quiver at the magnitude of pleasure she brings forth. You've never been this overwhelmed with the pleasure as you choke over your moans—grasping and clawing at the sheets or her hand gripping your thighs. You eye her arms—sleeves of her button-up hiked up to her elbows, showcasing the veins popping and rising at the harsh grip she has on your body. The sight heats you up even more.

You flush as she peers up at you from the comforts of your pussy—blue eyes clouded with lust and want as she makes precise twirls and flicks with her tongue. Goddamn her mouth feels like fucking heaven.

"You're so pretty," She mouths over your clit, teasing with a few licks before spreading it with her fingers to not let one spot untouched. You moan at her tenacity. "All mine. All fucking mine."

Just as the pleasure couldn't get any worse, Mizu rubs her index and middle over your hole before slipping it inside with ease. With all the wetness from her mouth and the slick coming from you, the penetration is done with no difficulty. She then makes a few thrusts of her fingers before flexing her digits in a come hither motion. The tips of her lengthy digits reach the familiar gummy spot within you. You yelp at the sudden spike of pleasure, thighs slightly closing.

"Right here?" She asks, breathless. You become lost in the pleasure—drunk from the high Mizu's giving you.

"Ngh! Mizu please!" You plead, unsure of what exactly you're asking. Mizu licks her lips before adjusting her hand—palm brushing over your clit. She then begins to speed up her thrusts—making an up-and-down motion on her wrist as wet noises begin to come out of your cunt.

"M-Mizu! F-Fuck—I can't—!" You scream as the tips of her fingers continuously hit that familiar spot. She pays no mind to your whims, ignoring your hands reaching out to grab her arm. It doesn't take too long before you feel an intense knot in your core, as if you're going to release something you shouldn't. With a final flick of her wrist, a ray of clear liquid squirts out of your pussy as you scream in pleasure. You twitch and shiver in her hold as she darts down to slurp up your release.

You whine and keen at the sensitivity, hands darting out to push Mizu away. She continues to lick every part of your cunt—swollen and perfectly pink from her ministriations. "M-Mizu! S-Stop—Hah—please—!"

Once satisfied, the raven-haired gal moves up with a smile. "Good girl," she praises.

You watch as she removes the rest of you and her clothes then untying her hair before adjusting your legs—raising the other as she slots between them. You whine at the sensitivity.

"I can't, please—" You sob, eyes tearing up from being oversensitive. Mizu coos at you as she grinds her cunt against yours. You flinch, hands darting down to her hips.

"Yes you can baby," She kisses your leg, holding it to her shoulder. "You can give me one more, won't you angel?"

You pant as she speeds up her thrusts, the pleasure begins to build up once more. Your first orgasm wasn't far along and so the coming of the second comes with ease. You remain listless on the sheets, eyes watching as Mizu's hips make skillful circles—cunt rubbing against yours deliciously.

"Tell me you're mine," She pants, hair gathered to her shoulder. The sweat and flush on her skin make her more ethereal. "Tell me who do you belong to, hm?"

She demands rather than asks and with the cloudiness of the high she keeps giving you, you succumb to her authority.

"I-I'm yours," You whine, hands gripping her thighs as she begins to speed up. You feel the familiar knot of your climax begin to unravel. "I'm yours."

Mizu's thrusts begin to become inconsistent and with a few more grinds and circles of her hips, you release with a loud moan as Mizu follows after.

She drops down on you with a pant, obviously exhausted from the strenuous activity. There's a moment of reprieve as you revel in the afterglow of sex.

Your laughter breaks the silence. "You should get jealous more often," You jest. "So that I can get laid like this again—Fuck that was good."

Mizu chuckles from her spot on your neck. She props herself up with her arms beside your head. "And here you were asking to talk when we both knew that's never going to happen."

You giggle at her words, arms wrapping around her waist. You then let out a sigh. "God, I love your tongue."

Mizu rolls her eyes, gently removing herself from the sweaty intertwine of limbs. You pout at the loss of her body heat. "Starting to think that you really just love me for my body, don't you?"

You raise your hands in a joking manner. "Consider me guilty."

Mizu throws a pillow towards you before rising from the bed. You admire her naked figure as she runs her fingers through her raven locks. Mizu notices your gaze.

"Keep your eyes to yourself, creep." She squints her eyes to glare. You roll your eyes in response.

"Such a hypocrite," You retort. "As if you weren't rambling about how possessive you we—AGH!"

The raven-haired girl tackles you into the bed, hands coming to tickle you to death. You both laugh and giggle at each other, reveling in the atmosphere brought forward by your chemistry.

You suppose you could never get tired of this. Not when it's Mizu.

___

There's not much change after you and Mizu finally got together but u suppose its probably the cat

Mizu has the tendency to match with your outfit. Whenever you ask her abt it, she just claims its a coincidence

When Mizu got her first camera, she took pictures of you and her together. She got the film printed. (She has a picture of you on the back of her phone and you have hers on yours)

Your go to gift for Mizu are socks and tea

Mizu is eerily similar to Nora. Sometimes you catch them pausing and staring at each other in the living room. it's quite funny.

Peers around campus are funnily giving you thumbs up and congratulatory shakes as if you getting together is a monumental achievement in history (It's bc of Taigen).

Mizu becomes all the more service-giving once you get together (she opens doors for you, pulls your chair for you to sit on, brushing a stray hair away from your face). She likes it bc u give her kisses now.

Mizu subconsciously plays with your fingers when holding hands. Though her fave part to put her hand on is your thighs. she claims that she likes the feeling.

Mizu often asks for your opinion on things whether it be for work, academics, or day to day life. Its because she regards you important and dear to her. She wants to share her life with you.

The moment you disclosed your relationship with your friends, Ringo legit pulled out a party popper

Mizu IS a walking UNIQLO sponsor (you cannot count how many rayon blouses she has in her closet. she claims its bc she likes the fabric)

You jokingly proposed to Mizu with a candy pop ring. Mizu proposed to you back with a can tab.

Mizu orders her drinks in the largest cup size bc she gives it to u after when u meet up for lunch mwehe (coincidentally its your fave drink as well)

Taigen was so confused as to why Mizu just bolted from her seat (pen case part) during their lab time together and when he asked what happened when she came back, she said, "Ah. Bonnie needed help." Taigen wants to explode.

Mizu is quite open to casual PDA. she says goodbye to u in the form of forehead kisses.

overall, you and Mizu are just so cute and so mwa mwa and i just wanna put yall in my pocket hehe

______________

A/N: HEYAAA this is finally done. not proofread so im gonna have to make edits to this tom. happy new year everyone !!! hope u like this roommate mizu! also to the ppl who saw this halfway done... no u didnt ....

[anchoeritic]

「 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬. 」

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jake sully x na’vi/fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw(18+), minors dni. clit play, handjob, vaginal sex, really soft and passionate jake.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you find yourself falling in love with a dream walker: mating with him under the tree of voices.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my first jake sully fic. the scenes are a bit tweaked just to make this a bit shorter but overall, it goes along with the script. i hope you all enjoy! reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you so much

jake sully was never on your to-do list. you would’ve never expected for him to ever even come close to the thing.

he was a dream walker and you were pure na’vi.

you were strictly his mentor, his guidance, ever since eywa had picked him. you taught him the skills of your people: to hunt, bond, and learn.

it wasn’t long until he picked up on your wave. sometimes, you’d think that he’d be better off mentoring you instead.

he was filled with determination, even with, what felt like the world, weighing on him.

“jake,” you whispered quietly, resting a hand onto his shoulder. he tensed up at the warmth of your palm, turning his head to face you.

his grip was still tight on the bow, but his focus stayed completely onto you. “nìk'ong.” your hand slid down his arm, angling the bow right at the target.

hovering beside his head, you let out the breath you were holding right as he let go of the string, piercing it right through the yerik.

whimpering away, jake quickly caught up to its bleeding body, thanking it for its sacrifice as his first kill on pandora.

a hand was softly placed on the creature’s limb before he dug the blade into its heart, letting eywa take hold of its spirit at last.

“oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo. ngari hu eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu na'viyä hapxì.”

observing him closely, you watched as he slid the knife back into the sheath, letting out a quiet sigh of exhaustion.

“a clean kill,” you spoke, rubbing the yerik’s head, laying it on your lap. “you are ready, jake.”

pulling out the arrow from its heart, you reach for his hand, grazing it ever so slightly. you felt his eyes on you, burning holes into you.

“come, follow me.”

grabbing his hand, you jumped from branch-to-branch, keeping him close. you were on the tips of your toes, you’ve never felt so alive.

you ran across the forest, jake following shortly behind as your footsteps illuminated a pathway for him.

“slow down,” he laughed, trying to match your pace. you ignored his wishes, going even quicker.

“you need to be faster.” you shot back jokingly, turning around to tease him. “come on, we’re close.”

admiration was one of the many things jake sully had felt for you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

the way you’d smile to yourself whenever he made a stupid mistake trying to speak na’vi, the way you’d still manage to protect even as an outsider; a dream walker.

the way you’d scowl at his horrible earthling jokes that nobody ever laughed at, but you were the only one that paid attention to them.

“a bad reaction is still a reaction” as jake would say to you before you rolled your eyes at him.

but it wasn’t just your beauty, it was your wit. your strong beliefs, intentions to spread love outside and within yourself.

playing with the children, introducing him to them and being completely accepted like one of your own. it was like a big family he had earned back again. it felt like home.

you felt like home whenever he was around you, but those feelings could never be let out

or so you thought.

you finally made your way to utral aymokriyä (tree of voices), walking slowly through the bright, shining lights of the tree.

“we call these trees utral aymokriyä: the tree of voices.” you brought a string of leaves to your cheek, closing your eyes.

“the voices of our ancestors.”

the whispering of ancient na’vi voices could be heard as you continued to talk amongst them, acknowledging their presence in attendance.

jake stands closer to you now, brushing the tendrils away from your face to see you clearer.

clearing your throat, you turn yourself back around to avoid anything else to happen between the two of you. “you are omaticaya now. you may make your own bow from the wood of hometree.”

“and you may choose a woman.” your voice going dry, teary at most. your chest felt heavy, your heart nearly dropping to the bottom of your stomach.

“we have many fine women. ninat is the best singer-“

an expression of confusion can only make up jake’s face as he interrupts you before you could finish.

“i don’t want ninat.” he states strongly.

the attention was back onto you, struggling to come up with another reply. “there is beyral, she is a good hunter.” you said with your back faced towards him, refusing to show the sadness in your eyes.

he reached his hand out, intertwining his fingers into yours. “i’ve already chosen.”

“but this woman must also choose me.”

peering from your shoulder, you smile cheekily. squeezing his hand gently and pulling him into you. “what if i told you.”

you looked into his eyes, to his lips, down to your intertwined hands. was this really happening?

“she already has.”

sparks of happiness shot around like fireworks as he pulled you closer to his chest, gently sitting you onto his lap.

jake makes the first move, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. your hands explored his body, feeling up on the structure of his back.

his hands slipped down to the curve of your backside. you returned the favor, only kissing him even deeper.

the eagerness between the kisses shared were merely starved. he’s always loved you and he was longing to show you how much he really did love.

“kissing is very good, but we have something better.” you whispered against his lips, trailing kisses along his jawline.

you slowly pull away from his lips, already missing them. “closer, jake.”

taking the end of your queue, you raise it to him. he follows, doing the same.

you close your eyes, the feeling sending you nearly over the edge already.

the moss beneath your bodies glew, acknowledging the two souls that had finally connected to each other under its tree.

“y/n, kiss me.” jake licked his lips, wanting, needing to feel your lips against his again.

you obeyed his wishes, wrapping your arms around his neck and continuing where you left off.

quiet moans were shared as your tongues explored each other’s mouths, deciding whether or not to take it further.

his hips proved it positively, moving under you begging for some type of release.

“don't be afraid to touch me.” you mumbled, grabbing ahold of his wrist. you placed his fingers closer to your core, brushing against it.

a groan was heard by him, barely escaping. you were wet, he could feel it through the fabric.

the smell of your arousal only making him need you more.

his bulge grew harder beneath you, pressing up on your core as well. a faint moan fell from your lips at the feeling, rocking yourself on him.

“let me feel you.” you slipped your hand lower, wrapping your hands around his member.

he dug his face into your neck, hiding the volume of his pleasurable noises.

jerking him slowly, you swiped your thumb over the tip, collecting his pre-cum. “tell me,” you inched closer to his ear, licking the lobe. “tell me how much you want this, jake.”

kisses were left around the crown of his head, your other hand resting on the back of his neck. “tell me you want this as much as i do.”

his only response to you was barely words, just noises of pure bliss. it was the pure need for you to touch him, to feel you wrapped around him. he wanted to make love to you.

“y/n,” he managed to plead out, “i want this.” looking up at you, resting his arms around your waist.

you lined up his tip at your entrance, sinking down onto him slowly. his lips became a perfect fit with yours as they connected once again, tasting each other.

he sat inside of you perfectly, a perfect match of a puzzle piece. molded together out of love.

“jake.” you threw your head back in ecstasy, crying out for him.

his hands slid down to your hips, helping you ride yourself out on him. “damn,” he murmured, watching your body bounce on top of his.

sweat beading down your forehead. your knees digging into the moss as the rhythm of your pace quickened, his moans growing louder with each stroke.

your thighs started to tremble the faster you went, you could feel his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. you swore you could touch the end of the universe, reach past the stars.

you could tell his release was nearing; profanities were heard besides your own noises, signaling for you to finish him off.

“tìyìng me ngeyä tìyawn.”

your nails left marks on his back as you felt your release chasing after his shortly.

clenching around him, you slowed down; savoring the moment.

wood sprites circle around their bodies, illuminating the scene.

their release hitting the highest of its peak about to collapse on top of each other. “give it to me.”

riding out the high, your breaths become short in time.

“oeng ulte oe, tì'i'avay krrä.”

[kairiscorner]

Do you have any other miles 42 headcanons?

hiii !! i have a few romantic ones, like how he'd act like around his crush >:> here they are, i hope you like them!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miles g. morales falling for you headcanons !!

he'd definitely overthink about how he feels about you, because despite coming off as a rizz master, boy has no clue on what to do with these butterflies in his stomach and the warmth he feels when you're close by or when you give him a smile, LIKEEEE he knows how to pull, he just doesn't know what to do when he gets pulled

he'd do the same as his counterpart in 1610 and find himself drawing, sketching, painting you through his graffiti--you left a lasting impression on him that made him want to see you a whole lot, and without even realizing it, he's expressing that need to want to see you, be around you through putting his image of you out through his art.

he pays attention to the little things you do :> he does seem apathetic and stoic at times, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you. he's observant, and when you have all his attention, you bet he's gonna notice all the little things you do and just admire you and how cute you are.

he is definitely a nerd. i think if you caught him with a keychain or pin of his favorite game or show and just complimented him about it, or talked to him about it, he would fall harder for you.

he talks to his uncle a lot about you, and it was through his uncle aaron that he realized he was falling in love when he walked miles through those feelings he couldn't really name or place his finger on.

he feels more confident about himself through the little compliments you give him, even though you might mean them in a friendly way. it really brightens his day when you tell him his shoes look nice, that his braids look beautiful, that he looks a little nicer than he did before--little do you know he tweaks himself up a little bit subconsciously due to your compliments, takes better care of himself, pays more attention to how he looks for you.

HE PRACTICES RIZZING YOU UP WHEN HE LOOKS AT HIMSELF IN THE MIRRORRRRR

+ rio once walked in on him doing that and kept teasing him about it

++ she told uncle aaron and they did not shut up about it, with uncle aaron telling him to just play cool as miles is flustered, embarrassed, sweaty in the palms, and shaky in the knees about it HEHE

he tells himself to always 'be cool' around you and when he feels confident about himself facing you, he loses all the confidence he had prior to you catching up with him to talk, and becomes a melting, stuttering mess when you get too close or your gaze becomes a little too piercing.

+ when you smile at him, he FALLS APARTTTTT

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @solecitoszn @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv @conitagray

[feyascorner]

suggestion for a funny but fluff fic or miniseries: Modern day Baldurs gate /faerun, were Ascended Astarion and GN Consort reader have lived a couple of centuries together and are still acting like newlyweds / deeply in love and just obsessed with each other. (but also dress gothic/victorian or like they don't belong in the current timeline.)

Would be funny if its written from the perspective of a new servant or a party guest- Maybe they mess up using medieval words when trying to describe modern things and the POV person is not aware they are vampires.

idk Dracula investigator reporter style- Thoughts?

anon you're such a genius for this1!!! THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE UGH I TWEAKED IT A BIT THOUGH W THE PERSPECTIVE PART I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND <33 (also this is not proofread)

A ball in this day and age is uncommon.

At first, Alfira was skeptical. Especially considering the party's hosts were famous for being---a rather eccentric couple. Inviting but strange at times. Dressing in garbs similar to the pictures Alfira has of her great great great grandmother, it was natural that they'd stick out like sore thumbs in high society. But with the pay proposed to her, Alfira could dare not decline playing her instrument at the party. Even more so when she realized how exclusive the party really was.

She'd been invited to stay at their obnoxiously large mansion alongside the other servants for the week preceding the event, and while the sensible decision would be to practice her piece, her naturally curious nature got the better of her. And now, she hides an entire notebook under her pillow regarding all the peculiar things about the couple.

'No. 1: They rarely show their face during the daytime. Perhaps they simply don't want to expose their skin without a concerning amount of sunscreen? Everyone online raves about how bad the sun is for your skin nowadays.

No. 2: The kitchen is completely off-limits to everyone but the head chef. It reeks anytime I go near it, so I don't mind.

No. 3: He calls them their consort. Weird. Is that considered affectionate with rich people?

No. 4: We're not allowed to take our mirrors outside of our rooms. This one I really don't understand.'

The list goes on for ages.

Alfira's observations are ones done from across rows of other recruits or servants, given how rare of an occasion it is to see either of them. Though, she's noted that where one is, the other isn't far away. They're practically attached at the hip, and even if she's a complete outsider, it's easy to tell how smitten they are for one another.

And with how well she was being treated (the food and rooms alike) under their care, Alfira began to feel a sort of guilt for suspecting so much. They surely didn't deserve such obsessive note-taking when all she could see was the way Astarion pecked your forehead before lending you his arm, only gentle laughter ringing in the air.

Perhaps the two of you were truly just a happy couple. A strange one, sure, but happy.

The day of the event comes in no time. Despite the lack of preparation, Alfira manages to play her main musical piece with minimal slip-ups, and continues to leisurely play as she watches all the wealthy guests. The ballroom bustles with people, and because she knows that she isn't acquainted with anyone here, her eyes are naturally drawn to a crowd in the center of the room where you and Astarion are greeting the guests. As usual, your arm is locked tightly with his.

In a room full of dresses and suits, the two of you still somehow manage to stick out. The intricate designs on your attire aren't all to blame, because Alfira swears she sees a sort of aura around the two of you.

It must be a trick of the light, though, surely.

When Alfira and the other musical hires begin to play a slow dance song, you eagerly pull your partner to the dance floor. The dance comes to easily to the two of you, eyes so loving as they're set on one another that Alfira nearly feels jealous. The other single guests seem to feel the same way as Astarion leans into your ear and grins with a whisper.

Alfira squints.

'No. 32,' she notes in her head. 'He has sharp teeth.'

Once the dance is over, she thinks her hand may very nearly fall off. But when she sees you and your partner approaching in her direction, the pain is immediately forgotten as she straightens her back, eyes wide when you offer her a smile.

"Alfira, right?"

"Y-yes! That's me."

"I apologize I couldn't greet you sooner," you place your free hand on Astarion's arm. "We were so swept up in the preparations we didn't get to welcome the truly important guests."

Alfira blinks. A guest? She's not a guest.

You huff. "You really do look just as I remembered you to be! Right, Astarion?"

"I don't particularly remember the bard from then to be frank, my love," he responds, as if Alfira isn't standing right in front of them.

'No. 33,' she notes again. 'He's kind of a jerk to anyone else.'

But more importantly, a bard? She's a musician! Not merely a wandering bar entertainer with a bloody lute and a corset to go along with it. It's even stranger that you seem so familiar with her, even though she's only first talking to you right now. Is she finally losing it?

"Sorry, have we met before?" Alfira blurts.

"Ah," you laugh. "Apologies for my informality. We have, but I doubt you'd remember."

What does that mean?

"Although it pains me to tear you away from such a fascinating conversation, my love, we should greet the others," Astarion chips in, and Alfira inwardly sighs in relief. "Good day, bard."

That damn word again--

As Astarion leads you away back toward the crowd with you pressed close to his side, he smiles down at you while you whisper something he finds humorous up to him. Alfira realizes she's never been that close to either of you, and fears she may have missed her chance---as strange as the encounter was.

However, she does notice one thing about the couple as you walk away.

Both loving sets of eyes are the same piercing shade of bloody red.

[nastylittleghouls]

Querencia

Relationship(s): Aether/Aeon

Rating: Explicit 

Words: about 1.6k (One day I’ll be able to write something small but today is not that day) 

Summary: It’s still difficult for him to stay quiet and unmoving, so unlike his nature. To not react without prompting to how Aether looks at him from time to time, over the rim of his glasses, appraising. Promising. Sometimes telling him to stretch out his legs or get his pillow with a gentle nudge of quintessence.

or

Aeon just wants to be Aether's good boy

Tags and warnings:  D/s dynamics, pre-negotiated scene, face fucking, Aeon being a good boy and a fiend for Aether’s monster dick, a tiny smidgen of angst- blink and you might miss it. Implied quintosis, a little bit of mean!Aether and orgasm denial. That's about it I think 

Notes: This is the result of @a-hearts-a-heavy-burden and me losing our minds about Aether pleasuring his guitar and ending with how willingly Phantom/Aeon would get on his knees for the big quint. It took a bit of a different direction than I thought but I am not mad about it. Unbeta'ed.

AO3 link for the so-inclined

Querencia: The place where one's strength is drawn from; where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.

Aeon slips into Aether’s office while he’s making his ward round. He knows the basics by now. Had watched longingly how Dewdrop knelt at Aether’s feet. And Aether, ever the observant one, had taken him under his wing with a loving but firm hand while Aeon had hung onto every word, every touch like the air he needed to breathe. 

Take off your clothes. Fold them neatly and put them on the chair. On your knees. Head bowed. Hands on thighs, unless other instructions are given.  Be seen but not be heard. 

He had felt like he had found another purpose in Aether’s pride. 

It’s still difficult for him to stay quiet and unmoving so unlike his nature. To not react without prompting to how Aether looks at him from time to time over the rim of his glasses, appraising. Promising. Sometimes telling him to stretch out his legs or get his pillow with a gentle nudge of quintessence. 

The way people come and go. Either treating him like he isn't right there, naked, rock hard, and leaking a puddle on the floor, only stealing looks at him. Or partaking if Aether allows it. 

Like Swiss dropping by to discuss plans with Aether, his hands casually wandering over Aeon’s upper body with teasing caresses over his neck and tweaking his nipples as he talks. Or Dew nudging the tip of his boot under his balls, making Aeon’s sensitive cock slide over the leather just so as he leans over the desk to pull Aether into a heated kiss. Tempting him to seek friction at the display in front of him and testing his obedience. No doubt hoping he’ll fail as Dew enjoys seeing him punished as much as he enjoys being part of the aftercare. 

He hopes he’ll be spared by visitors today. He selfishly wants Aether for himself, wants to be good only for him. 

The door opens and Aether finally returns. If he‘s surprised to find Aeon here again so soon he doesn‘t let it show. The spade of his tail drags fleetingly over Aeon's spine as he passes to get to his desk, making him arch up, and ends with a playful slap on his ass. That’s his greeting, his acceptance of Aeon‘s servitude. 

Aeon breathes the air with Aether’s renewed scent in deeply, then curls his tail around himself and waits. Let’s himself thrive in the simple but meaningful act of kneeling in Aether‘s presence, for Aether, ready to dedicate his body to him to ease his stress level and make the crease between his eyebrows vanish. The thought makes him glance at Aether‘s cock, laying against his thigh under the loose scrubs, moving enticingly when he shifts his leg. The things he would give to have that long thickness filling him already.  Stretching him impossibly wide, the ache, the taste… 

They both need each other, Aeon‘s sure of it. 

When Aether finally beckons him over, his body excitedly rises upwards, one alredy foot on the floor, about to push him upwards and he instantly knows he fucked up. He bites back a frustrated whine and lowers himself back down. Apologizing and hoping Aether won’t punish him for it. 

Aether just sighs with a hint of disappointment.

“Go on. Try again”.

Relieved that Aether feels gracious today, his voice having that certain cloying tone, Aeon rises again, properly only onto his stiff knees this time, and crawls over to Aether. His cock bobs in front of him, dripping all over the floor as he moves, giving Aether a good view of him. He wants to preen under his gaze.   

Aether’s large hands greet him when he settles again, stroking Aeon’s beaming face as he smiles down at him. The smaller ghoul nuzzles into the touch, kisses Aether’s rings reverently. Tries to wriggle his tongue under them to taste his sweat, and licks at the pad of his fingers where the ink has stained them. His eyes never leave Aether’s face, looking at him like he’s one of the seven princes of hell himself. 

„Such a sweet boy. Kneeling so prettily for me. You wanna help me relax, don‘t you? ” 

Aeon shivers at the praise before he nods fervently, eyes wide and glassy, whispering a “yes, sir. Please” and letting his mouth drop open and his tongue roll out in invitation, eager to be of use. Aether strokes his cock leisurely, pleased with the way Aeon offers himself and follows his every movement. Every word. Attention fully on him. Like it should be.

“Hands behind your back, grip your wrists. If you let go, I’ll stop. Understand?” 

Aeon nods again, shifting to do as he is told. Curling his fingers around his wrists as tight as he’d want his cuffs to be, digging into the finger-shaped bruises already on his skin. The feeling forces him to take a deep breath. 

It's a slow and intentional thing when Aether squeezes his cock from root to tip, forcing pre to pool in the slit. He shifts forward and drags the head of his cock over the smaller Quint's tongue with a small moan, Aeon's eyes rolling into the back of his head when the taste hits, a reedy whimper escaping his throat. A high-strung please is pressed into Aether’s mind along with it. 

Fingers fisted in Aeon's hair, Aether uses his grip to feed the little ghoul his cock, slides in until there’s no more for Aeon to take and then just holds him there.  Lets the tip rest at the back of his throat, groaning approvingly when he feels Aeon swallow around him, body going slack at the weight, at the way he can feel every single bar of his Jacobs ladder sitting on his tongue, how it fills his whole mouth and stretches his lips wide. His mind goes pleasantly hazy, everything narrowing down to Aether and pleasing him. Helping him destress. Being useful. Nothing else. 

Aether pulls him off, only to instantly push him back down and press in deep again, not letting him draw a full breath. Saliva drips messily over Aeon's chin and onto his chest as Aether uses him, fucks Aeon’s mouth in deep strokes, his sounds of pleasure washing over Aeon like warm summer rain. The small Quint’s hungry little whines and moans fill the room, slender hips hump the empty air in a desperate search of friction he’s not allowed. Drawing quick little breaths whenever Aether pulls his cock out just enough that air can flow and flushing hotly at the loud wet squelching noises he’s sure everyone can hear every time Aether pushes back in.   

„Lucifer, your pretty mouth. Made to be ruined”

The praise has Aeon tonguing at the metal adorning Aether’s cock, doing his best with the little room he has. He just wants to give Aether more and show how grateful he is.  

“That’s good. Really fucking good. Such a sweet boy for me,” Aether breathes, head tipping back. His fingers tighten in Aeon’s hair, his thrusts get a little sloppier, just that little harder. Aeon keens, long and high, too far gone to notice that Dew’s name falls from Aether’s lips in the throes of pleasure, in between his praises.  It almost overwhelms him, his ruddy cock kicking hard between his legs. His tail curls around Aether‘s ankle, needing something to ground himself before he loses it.

Then Aether slides in deep again and comes, momentarily depriving him of the taste where he wants it the most, staying there until his cock’s done twitching.

It's wonderful.

Aether drags his cock out oh so slowly and leans back in his chair, breathing labored. He graciously lets Aeon follow and keep mouthing at him, catching what he couldn’t swallow with his tongue, watching the blissful face of the little ghoul as he enjoys his extra treat. He ponders how good Aeon’s mouth would feel struggling on his knot and his cock twitches, causing a delighted noise from the ghoul beneath him. 

Maybe later today. 

His fingers in Aeon’s hair loosen and his hand just rests affectionately at the back of his head, twirling the short strands around his fingers until he starts to soften and overstimulation sets in.

“That’s enough, little star”.

Aeon takes the cue and when Aether’s all clean and tucked back into his pants, Aeon rests his head on his thigh, gazing adoringly up at him with a hoarse sounding purr, still happily working his mouth around the ache in his jaw, the cum still swirling around in his mouth. His face is a mess of fluids, lips swollen and Aether makes a mental note to snap a photo for his collection

„Please, sir. Would you…“ Aeon sounds wrecked, his voice cracking then giving out. He swallows. 

“Hmm?” A Cheshire cat-like grin appears on Aether's face as he tips Aeon’s face up and offers his water bottle to him. Encouraging him to take a sip.  He knows exactly what’s coming. Or rather, what isn’t. 

“M..may I come, sir?” 

Aether makes a considering sound, reaches down to drag a fingertip over the length of Aeon's sensitive cock, then sucks it into his mouth. Aeon’s eyes widen, and a wounded sound that shows how close he is to coming leaves him, hips jerking forward in minuscule motions even after Aether’s touch is gone. He pants as his cock keeps throbbing and pre-cum drips in rivulets down the sides. 

“I think I’ll keep you like this for a while longer,” Aether says, then folds his hands behind his head and smirks. 

“Now lick your mess off of the floor.”

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod Sex Bot Au - Duo Bots

Requested: Yes! But I was working on it before this request so it’s like a half request.

Warnings: ✨spice✨

A/N: No Soap pr König this time, folks! Sorry! For König’s, the only person I could see as the other half is Horangi, and I’m not too comfortable writing for him yet since I’m not sure I have a great grasp on his character. For Soap……I just didn’t know who to put him with other than Ghost and I REALLY wanted to do more Roach so I had to make a tough decision. Also, it is 2 in the morning, I should not be writing this late.

A simple coincidence. An accident. Your friends, who all well meaningly chipped in to buy you a sex bot, not knowing that you had already bought one. And of course they arrived at the same time. (It was very fun signing for your packages with the words “SEX BOT” stamped on both of the boxes) So now here you stood, a bot on either side of you, both of them curiously observing the other, syncing their databases since they would be sharing a household.

Ghost & Roach

The Ghost model stares down the Roach model, the smaller bot staring back, their eyes both glowing a soft yellow as they take each other in. Then, all of a sudden, Roach started moving his hands at lightning speed, Ghost just as quickly following suit. It took you a minute to comprehend that they were talking in Sign Language. And, even if you do understand BSL, they were moving too fast for you to really get a grasp on what they were saying to each other.

Finally, they both seem to nod at each other, apparently satisfied with their conversation while you are left in the dark. They turn to you then, Roach smiling a bit as he cups one of your cheeks, Ghost cupping the other, both of them leaning in, trying to fight over who could get to your lips first, their hands roaming over your body, pulling at your clothes.

At least they get along!

Alejandro & Rudy

The Alejandro model grins at the Rudy model once they were both done, ruffling the other bot’s hair. “Hola, Rudy!” He practically chirps, seemingly amused by the way Rudy tries to hurriedly fix his hair, grumbling at Alejandro the whole time. “*Es un placer conocerle!” He says, leaning against the other bot like he was some sort of pillar. Which, spoiler alert, Rudy is not, and the sudden weight of another bot leaning on him caused the both of them to topple over, cursing together in Spanish as they fumble over each other trying to get back up. That was, until something else drew their attention.

You, laughing, your hands over your mouth to muffle the sound, eyes teary from the sheer force of your amusement. Alejandro grinned, as wide as a Cheshire Cat, and Rudy smiled, soft and small. “Bello.” Rudy said, as Alejandro nodded in agreement.

Gaz & Price

The Gaz model smiles at the Price model once the information exchange is completed, Price simply grunting in return. The older looking bot wasn’t usually one for sharing, but it seemed he would put up with the younger looking one. And with that, they turned to you, so in sync with each other that it was almost like they shared a mind.

And then they descended on you like starved wolves, Gaz eagerly taking to removing your pants, nipping and sucking at your thighs, squeezing them in his hands while Price took to cradling your neck in one broad hand, his other sliding up your shirt, tweaking at a nipple when his fingers travel high enough.

You were in for a ride, that was for sure.

*Es un placer conocerle! = It’s nice to meet you!

[anstarwar]

Bonding time for the commanders

Wrote a thing for it on the fly, not edited at all, but was having fun thinking about their dynamic...

"So, um, what's it like in there?" Barriss asked casually, flicking some dirt from her skirts.

Gree, who was lost in his datapad entering some note about a leaf he just discovered, only replied with "hmm?"

This is how their conversations usually went, much to Barriss' frustration. She'd been...commander (weird)...of the 41st for three months now and had gotten no further in breaking through to her fellow commander.

Maybe this is just how it was supposed to work between Jedi and Clones? They had a job to do, she reasoned, so maybe the clones didn't want to be...friends? That didn't feel right to her, but nothing to be done about it.

"Never mind," she cleared her throat, wrapped her robes tighter around her shoulders and went to find Master Luminara.

+++

Two months later...

"Do you want to see, Commander?" Gree asked as he examined the visor of his helmet in his hands. He'd spent the better part of an hour fiddling with the wires, scrubbing the dirt away, and touching up scraped off bits of green paint.

Barriss looked at him, eyebrow arched in question.

"...my bucket...helmet. You asked a few months ago and...well, if you're still curious." He answered, rolling it around in his hands.

"Is it ok?" Barriss replied, hesitant.

Gree wasn't sure how to answer that. Helmets, to the clones, were personal. You didn't share yours with anyone just willy-nilly. They were designed for protecting a very vital part of their body (though Gree was convinced some of his brothers didn't use their noggins as often as they should, so he's not sure how effective they were for those particular troops), and tweaked and customized to each wearer's specifications. They were as close as anything to a prized possession for many of them and "is it OK" wasn't as simple a question as it sounded.

But Gree had also spent a month trying to get to know his little Commander. Well, little wasn't quite the right word. Barriss was fearsome, strong, and wise beyond her years - but she was small, barely coming up to his shoulder. She was too young to see the things they saw on a daily basis, and it pained him to know she also had to live this life. That, like the clones, she wouldn't truly know what it was like to be a kid. It was like a blaster to the gut the day he realized she also didn't have much choice in the matter, and that she was working so hard to hide her own pain and worry.

It hit him one day that maybe she needed reassurance just as much as his own troops. Not from the fighting or the uncertainty of what tomorrow would bring, but from her own self-doubts and insecurities. She was his little sister, his vod'ika. So he'd decided he'd do what he could to reassure her and, he reasoned, that meant breaking down his own walls and getting to know her. To build trust.

"Yeah...yeah its ok, here just..." Gree moved to place it on her head, but paused. "...don't know if it'll fit over your robes there, Commander."

Barriss laughed. "No I suppose not." She scrunched up her nose, an expression Gree observed she'd make when she was coming to a decision.

"What about..." Barriss pushed back her hood and unwrapped the robe from around her shoulders.

"Here," she said, extending it out to Gree with a shy smile.

He took it, holding it in front of him like it was a specimen he found on the underside of a lartie, and not a piece of cloth. He arched his brow at the Padawan.

"You're sharing something important with me, so it's only fair I do the same, yeah?" she said in explanation.

Gree nodded, but wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it. He shook it out, not sure what he was expecting it to do, but it felt like the best option. It wasn't like he'd never seen or held a cloak before, but this belonged to a Jedi, his Commander. Was there some sort of protocol or etiquette he should be aware of?

Barriss chuckled. "You can put it on and I'll put on your helm-bucket?" She looked into the visor of the helmet as if it would tell her what to call it. "Bucket," she nodded, turned it the proper direction and plopped it on her head.

"Whoa," crackled through the vocoder as things flickered to life on the HUD. Scrolls of data came through, lights blinked here and there --indicating what she wasn't sure. It was a lot and she felt the urge to rip it off of her head to stop the onslaught of information. She thought better of it, though. Gree had trusted her with it and she didn't want to make some egregious error in etiquette or cause offense.

She centered her breathing as her eyes adjusted to the flashes and pings. "Oh my god," her hand flew up, smacking the aerator, unused to the extra bulk around her face.

Giggles erupted from the vocoder. "Commander Gree you, haha, you look...well..." Gree shifted, pulling the hood of the robe over his head while simultaneously flicking the edges of the robe over his pauldrons. He was struck, suddenly, by an urge he hadn't let himself feel since he was a cadet.

Grinning mischievously he stuck his tongue out at the young commander. "I look amazing! I think I might keep this." He flapped the edge of the robe at Barriss.

"I didn't say..." Barriss lifted the helmet and held it propped on the top of her head. She stuck her tongue out as if that would make him give the robe back.

He stuck his tongue out in return.

"Click click." Gree and Barriss' whipped their heads around at the sound.

"Lookin' good commanders!" Captains Styles and Grey stood, barely suppressing their laughter, Styles holding up his datapad, clearly having just snapped a holo of their superior officers.

"You are going to delete that holo right now, Captain!" Gree grumbled, pushing the hood back from his head.

"You are going to send me that holo right now, Captain Styles!" Barriss said as she strode over to the clone, holding out her hand. "Can I see?"

"Sorry Commander, but the Commander outranks you," Styles looked at Gree, eyes twinkling with glee, as he handed the datapad to the Padawan.

"Oh, yup, you're right Commander Gree. You do look amazing!" She beamed as she took in the holo.

Gree sighed, he knew when he was defeated. Pulling the purple hood back over his head he straightened and marched off towards camp.

"Hey! Your bucket, Gree! I need my robe back, hey!" Barriss yelled as she chased after him.

+++

oops this was way longer than I meant. If you made it to the end here, thanks for reading!

[ellitx]

teachers day anon (that's my name now ig) : prof. venti cockwarming listener while he tutors her for her upcoming exam? this has been lingering in my mind nonstop and i just had to share this ehehe

masterlist

warnings: nsfw, teacher-student relationship, fem!reader

Venti guided your hips, lifting your skirt to reveal your lacy panties for his hungry eyes. Settling you to sit between his legs, his hard cock poked through your clothed entrance.

You sat snugly on his lap, drawing out a pleased moan as you leaned on your professor’s shoulder and delighted his ears with your sinful music. His fingers, underneath your skirt, slid your panties aside, pushing his cock inside your clenching warm wet walls.

"S-sir..." You moaned before playing the next piece of music on the piano, moving your body into his lap to rub your soaked pussy against him.

His fingers danced against your hips as he whispered, "Are you sure you'll be able to focus for your rehearsal with my cock inside you?" His calloused fingers circled to your neck and kissed you passionately. His cock filled you up, stroking it slowly as your pelvis moved up and down on his lap.

“Ah, ah, ah. I won’t let you move until you finish the piece without errors.”

It wasn’t long before his index finger snuck its way beneath your bra to find your nipples, tweaking your perked buds, pinching and twisting them that had your tummy tightening. The feeling was heavenly, especially when his hands were cupping your breasts and massaging them gently. Most likely his way to relax you (and him) after a tiring day.

“Th-that’s unfair,” you whined, letting your fingers press against the keys. The music echoed within the big empty room and you heard Venti hum approvingly from behind, carefully observing your fingers roam across from one key to another.

You were close to concluding the piece, but an ear-deafening chord ruined your music. The chair screeched and you leaned forward, your head hanging as you panted heavily.

He just did not thrust against you. You clenched your fingers so tightly restraining the urge to bounce on your professor’s dick and fuck him senseless.

It’s unfair! Why does he get away with this when his dick is practically hard as fuck, his tip pushing deeper in your womb while you’re not allowed to move?!

Venti was pinching your buds again to tease you, making you buck harder on his lap.

“What’s wrong? You have to start from the top again, [Name]. We don’t want to hear any wrong notes during your performance.”

Your pussy felt too good on his cock, how the heck is he not fazed by this? You closed your eyes tightly, your ears trying to block out the sounds distracting you.

Just finish this piece and then Venti will reward you. That’s it. That’s your main priority and you won’t let him off this time! Your pussy can take a break once the test has been finished.

Wiggling your fingers, focusing on your professor’s soothing voice guiding you toward the last note, you bit your lower lip and started over from the beginning.

Pushing your sex to go harder, hoping the tempo will make you climax soon. It didn’t help that every nerve in your body screamed at you to get off your sexy teacher. How do you think the other girls in school will react if they knew their gorgeous teacher fucked one of his students’ brains out?

With a sigh of relief, your song ended on a soft C chord and Venti removed his hands from your breasts, which ached and yearned for more attention from him.

“Can I ride you now?” You asked, your whole face covered in deep pink as you fiddled with your skirt. Venti smirked, his teal eyes glinting.

“Who am I to say no to my favorite student?”

[amhrosina]

Light My Love (Matt Murdock x Reader)

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST

A/N: I tweaked the request just a bit, but I think I like how it came out! Thanks for requesting, nonnie! Also, I'm realizing that I need to write more happy Matt lmfao all i write for him is angst and this poor man just needs to be HAPPY!

Request: could you do a fic where reader gets hurt from matt’s work and he keeps blaming himself and reader comforts him?

Summary: Matt is in serious need of comfort when he blames himself for your injuries. (Someone pls hug this man he NEEEEEDS it)

(Warnings: angst (what’s new lmfao), some mentions of violence, matt leans heavy into self-hatred in this one, fluffy matt, matt makes pancakes at the end lol) 

The drip from the leaky faucet in the corner of your cell was beginning to grate on your nerves. You’d already tried everything to get it to stop – slamming your shoe on it repeatedly, twisting the handles all the way around, trying to pull the entire thing from the wall. It was no use. The water kept coming, and you kept waiting for it to stop. 

It had been two days since you’d last seen Matt – two days since you’d interfered with his mission and gotten yourself kidnapped by some low-level cartel members. Your stomach hadn’t stopped rumbling, and the little sleep you had been able to get was restless.  

The guys who kidnapped you weren’t particularly interested in you. They had thrown you in the windowless cell and mostly ignored you since then, but you could hear them moving around on the floor above you at all hours of the day. You had to give them credit – they might be idiots, but they were observant enough to recognize that Daredevil cared about you. That’s why they grabbed you, and that’s why you were kicking yourself for getting involved in Matt’s business.

You hadn’t really been trying to get involved. Truly. Matt may be a hot mess, but he was always on time, and when he never showed up for your dinner date, you got worried. A gnawing concern ate at your stomach as you walked around Hell’s Kitchen searching for any sign of him. The next thing you knew, a knife was being held to your throat and Matt was being beaten into the concrete in front of you.  

You had distracted him, and it had gotten both of you hurt. Or killed. You didn’t know where Matt was. You tried not to think about it – the idea that your life partner could be dead because of your mistake. Instead, you focused on the pattern the goons in the room upstairs were making on the ceiling.  

Three steps to the left, two forward, three to the right. Maybe they were dancing? You hadn’t been able to figure it out, but the pattern had grown to be a soothing white noise in the background of this living hell.  

A thud on the ceiling startled you out of your lightheaded haze, followed shortly by the unmistakable scream of one of the men upstairs. The sounds that followed were as terrifying as they were relieving. He was here. You crawled to your feet, leaning on the wall for support and listening to the screams as they got closer and closer to you. 

Your knees buckled as Matt’s broad frame kicked through the door. He was a sight to behold in his full Daredevil gear, crimson colored and scary as hell. You whimpered as he fell to his knees in front of you, one hand resting on your cheek while the other held your body weight up.  

“Tell me you’re okay. Tell me they didn’t hurt you, sweetheart.” Matt’s voice cracked as he looked you over for injuries. 

The lower half of Matt’s face, the part that was visible with the mask on, was covered in scruff. You could tell he hadn’t shaved since the last time he saw you. Probably hadn’t eaten or slept either. Tears finally began to stream down your cheeks. He was here, and he was breathing, and he was okay.  

“Matty.” Your throat was dry and scratchy from the hours you had spent screaming at your captors, begging them to free you. 

Matt lifted you in his arms, cradling you against his chest and walking out of the cell and towards the back of the building. The unconscious bodies in the hallway were enough to remind you how dangerous Matt could be when he let the devil out, but you weren’t afraid. You would never be afraid of Matt. 

When Matt exited the building, you were expecting the sunlight to temporarily blind you, but it was almost as dark outside as it was in your dingy cell. You were about to ask Matt how far away from home you were when you realized he was headed directly towards a parked car around the corner. 

Foggy jumped out of the driver’s seat, hurrying to open the back door so Matt could climb in with you. 

“Is she okay?” he asked, swallowing thickly. 

“She’s-” Matt’s voice was gruff, “She’s alive,” he finally said, leaning forward to climb into the car. He didn’t let go of you, even when he sat down and Foggy had pulled away from the curb. He just tightened his grip on you, pulling you even closer to his body. The ache to touch him grew in you tenfold when you realized how exhausted you both were. You lightly began tracing the bottom of the mask, tugging the material over Matt’s head. 

He was always beautiful, but you could see the strain of the last few days in the way he hung his head low. His eyes, usually so pretty and full, were muted in color and half-lidded.  

“Did you sleep at all while I was gone, my love?” You mumbled, scratching the scruff on his cheeks and chin. 

“I had to find you. It wasn’t an option.” He bit out, trying to hide the groan crawling up his throat at your touch.  

“I’m sorry I-” You started, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Don’t apologize,” Matt sounded distraught, “Why are you apologizing? It’s me who should be begging on my knees for your forgiveness.” A tear made its way down his cheek, falling onto your shoulder.  

You furrowed your brow, glancing at Foggy, who was doing his very best to look like he wasn’t overhearing a very intimate conversation between his best friends. 

“I don’t understand, Matty,” You finally responded, wiping under his eyes with your thumbs. 

“I’m meant to protect you. That’s my job, and I failed. You got hurt, and it’s my fault, and I wouldn’t blame you if you left me the minute we get home. I am undeserving of anyone’s love, but most of all yours.” 

Stunned silence filled the car. Matt’s eyes were squeezed shut, trying and failing to stop the overflow of tears falling down his face. Foggy’s expression was one of pure concentration as he navigated New York City traffic, but his frequent glances in the mirror read as a deep concern for his friend. 

“Matty, hey, don’t do that. I’m the one that messed up. I followed you when I should’ve trusted that you would be okay. It was my fault, not yours.” 

“Stop.” He gritted out, resting his head on the headrest behind him.  

You fell silent, resting your head on his chest. He couldn’t be rational when he was this worked up, and you were so exhausted that you didn’t want to argue with him.  

Foggy pulled around the back of Matt’s apartment building and you reached for Matt’s mask. Even though the clock on the dashboard said it was 3:42 in the morning, you couldn’t risk Matt being seen by anyone without his mask on. You pulled it onto his face, planting a soft kiss on his cheek when you were finished.  

When Foggy opened the door, you moved to climb out yourself, but Matt wouldn’t let you budge. He climbed out, still holding you against his body.  

“I’m not made of glass, ya know,” you said, scoffing at Matt’s unwillingness to let you go and then turning to Foggy, “Thank you, Foggy. We can talk...later?” 

“Yeah, yep. Mhmm.” Foggy was looking between you and Matt, scrunching his eyebrows together in what you could only describe as a mix of confusion and concern. You smiled, nodding at him reassuringly even though dread was beginning to build in your gut.  

Matt swiftly carried you through the apartment building, refusing to set you down until he had locked the door behind him with the deadbolt, and even then, he would only set you down on the couch.  

As soon as he let you go, you jumped to your feet, immediately swaying with exhaustion. Matt sighed, pulling his mask off and shaking his head. 

“How long has it been since you slept, sweetheart?” He asked, unbuttoning his suit and pulling the different pieces of it off one at a time. 

“I don’t...” you started, trying to blink the exhaustion from your eyes, “I don’t know.” 

He tugged on your hand, leading you to the bedroom, where you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh.  

“Matty, the sheets.” You tried to push yourself off, not wanting to stain his sheets with the scent of that awful place, but he lightly pushed you back down.  

“Don’t worry about them. Sleep, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss onto your forehead, resting his lips there for a few seconds longer than normal. You realized when he stood and didn’t move towards the door that he would continue standing there until you fell asleep.  

Luckily for him, your eyes were on their way to closing whether you liked it or not, so you let the exhaustion wash over your body and drifted off to sleep almost immediately. 

// 

When you woke, you couldn’t figure out what day it was, or how much time had passed since you’d fallen asleep. The sheets had been changed, and you were wearing one of Matt’s big T-shirts. Matt was sitting on the other side of the bed, back pressed against the headboard. He was clean shaven and wearing new clothes, but he still looked exhausted.  

“Did you sleep at all?” You asked, pushing your body into a sitting position. The soreness in your muscles startled you. You hadn’t noticed the stiffness earlier, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins was probably the only thing that kept you going for as long as you did. That, or you had been asleep for much longer than you realized. 

“Some.” He responded, finally looking in your direction. 

You crawled forward, swinging your leg over his hips so you could straddle him. It wasn’t a sexual movement, and Matt knew that. You had spent many mornings in this exact position, holding each other and talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Matt’s hands brushed over your exposed thighs, settling on your waist.  

“You shaved.” You pointed out, eyeing his expression. You hadn’t forgotten the conversation from the car, and you weren’t planning on moving until you and Matt had finished talking.  

“You don’t remember?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“I guess not.” 

“A few hours after you fell asleep, you got up begging to take a shower. I changed the sheets and shaved while you did that.” 

“Oh.” You mumbled. Your hands toyed with the hair at the nape of Matt’s neck.  

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Matt’s face had fallen so quickly that it broke your heart. He buried his head in your shoulder, wrapping you in a hug in the same motion. “I’m so, so sorry. Could you ever forgive me?”  

“Matty,” you sighed, hugging him tightly, “There’s nothing to forgive. You saved me before anything really bad could happen.” 

“What if I couldn’t find you? What if you died in that cell because I couldn’t make it in time?” He pressed his forehead against yours and let out a shuttering breath. He was seconds away from breaking completely. 

“Baby, you did find me, and I’m okay. I only have a few bumps and bruises. You saved me, Matt.” 

Matt’s face contorted into a mask of rage – not at you, but at himself.

“I promised I would protect you. That’s the most important promise I’ve ever made, even more than any promises I’ve ever made to God, and I broke it.” His voice cracked and he tightened his hold around you. 

“Matty, you saved me. And you wouldn’t have had to protect me if I hadn’t gone looking for you. I knew you were working a dangerous case and I went anyways. This isn’t your fault, baby.” 

Matt’s body shook as he cried into your shoulder. He was hugging you so tightly that not even God himself could’ve pried his fingers away from you. You couldn’t tell how much time was passing, but you didn’t mind. You kissed Matt’s hair, ran your hands up and down his back, and hugged him back just as tightly. You would do this forever if you had to.  

When Matt finally righted himself and sat back, his eyes were swollen and red. You couldn’t help the kisses you placed on his eyelids. He just looked so pretty, and he always relaxed under your touch, so you leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips.  

“I love you.” Matt whispered, squeezing your waist for emphasis.  

“I love you, Matty.” You smiled, kissing him again. Your stomach loudly growled, and Matt gave you a small smile.  

“You’re hungry, sweetheart.” 

“I guess I am.” You giggled. 

“Want some pancakes?” he asked, bringing his lips to yours again.  

You suddenly looked around, trying to figure out what time of day it was.  

“How long did I sleep for?” You finally asked after not being able to figure out if it was dawn or dusk.  

“You slept most of the day away. It’s probably around 6 or 7 now.” Your stomach growled again.  

“Then hell yes, I want some pancakes.” You jumped off Matt, tugging him out of bed with you. You pulled him in for another kiss. “But only if I get to see your pretty smile first.” 

Matt’s grin melted your heart. It always did, but after what you both went through over the last few days, seeing him smile again was like rain after a drought.  

“There it is.” You mumbled, matching his grin.  

You could’ve sworn a blush crept up Matt’s neck, but you didn’t want to make him so embarrassed that he couldn’t make your pancakes, so instead of mentioning it, you pulled him towards the kitchen, squeezing his hand the entire way. He didn’t let go, even when you sat down to eat. Later, when his exhaustion finally caught up to him, you snuggled next to him in bed, refusing to let go of him for the rest of the night. 

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @xleiaorgana @mukbee @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @alina02 @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman

[curtsycream]

Baxter Radic Blurb

Finally finished season two of surviving summer and I love Bax’s character. He also deserved better so I’m giving him better. I’m giving him you babes <3

“How about that one?”

Looking down at his hand he looked over the tattoo she was pointing at. The slim reddish pink lollipop tattoo with small font along the white stick. Smiling at her he shook his head, “it’s just something small…I’ve always had it.”

Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head in return. “You didn’t have it before you left Queensland.”

Baxter bit back the chance to tease her for being so observant with his body. He held back as he tried to think about something to say to distract her. Nothing came to mind and he knew she wouldn’t buy into a lie.

“It’s new, got it my first week here,” he finally admitted to her.

The Queensland surfer smiled at him, “I’m loving this honesty streak. I’m guessing that Summer girl really got through to you, huh?”

“It wasn’t Summer,” he mumbled.

She craned her head back to look up at him in her seated position. “Then—then who? Or what? You’ve never been so open before,” she trailed off.

“Maybe, I don’t need to explain myself.”

She frowned grabbing his hand, “don’t do that. You always pull back when things feel tough for you. I’m sick of it, why can’t you just tell me the reason? Are you worried I’ll laugh or something? You know me better than—“

“It’s not that!” He exclaimed looking down at her. Running his free hand through his pink hair he shakes his head. “I know you wouldn’t do that, you’re too nice for that. Too nice for me,” he whispered.

“Don’t say that, you’re an amazing guy Bax…not many are like you. You don’t have to tell me about the tattoo just please don’t shut me out. It’s like ever since you moved to Shorehaven you’ve been reluctant to even message me.”

The way in which she was pouring her heart out to him left a sour taste in his mouth. Sitting beside him was the girl he grew to like quite a lot before having to leave. Tweaking his ear with his fingers he looks anywhere but at her. “I—it’s not your fault. I just thought if I avoided you it would make things easier.”

“Make what easier?”

“The fact that I like you and even if I were to tell you I’d find a way to fuck it up like I do everything else.”

The confession made the air around them feel heavy. It wasn’t like him to openly admit his feelings. But then again he had changed since moving away from Queensland. “Bax. Actually listen to me, I want you to know that what happened wasn’t your fault. You were drunk, we were all raging and someone dared you to do it. What you did wasn’t the reason you all had to leave, you know this. I don’t blame you and neither do the others. You’re a great guy,” she spoke calmly as she still held onto his hand.

Looking at her he let out a sigh, “I know that but it still feels like I had a part to play. Even if it wasn’t my fault I still fucked up. The second I got here I messed things up for my new team. I just think I’m causing myself problems.”

“You only think that because you’re so used to taking the blame. I promise you, you’re not at fault and it may take you a while to believe that. But trust me I’ll never blame you for things I know you didn’t mean to do.”

Leaning forward slightly his forehead rests against hers. His bright blue eyes searching her eyes for a hint of falsity. He found none but still he inquired, “promise?”

Raising his pinky he holds it out for her, keeping her forehead to his she locks hers around his. “I promise.”

Moving away from her he smiles keeping his pinky hooked with hers.

“Oh and Bax, I like you.”

[bitethedustfools]

TWST Story Idea (4)

Actually, I have no idea what I'm doing. It was supposed to be a theory, and now it's a story idea with probably a bunch of plot holes and nonsense that I came up with at night. But do consider this idea though. It was said that there are 5 greatest mages in the world, with Malleus on the list, and Dire Crowley could probably be in it too. Who knows? How else did he become a headmaster for so long?

-

Fairy tales change every time they're written and told. Some parts are kept the same, some are not. Some are twisted enough to the point of being called disturbing, and others have their roles reversed, and so on.

It always changes. The words change from book to book and mouth to mouth. Sometimes because the story is a bore, or they wanted to justify the characters' actions, or maybe they simply have forgotten how it goes and made their own story up because they can never let it be forgotten.

Whatever it is, the story is made to fit one's own taste.

Dire Crowley is that kind of person who is unsatisfied with the ending of the stories he comes across. Being a curious bird, he finds it quite strange, vexing even. Why must the good guy win when they have almost nothing? The villains are cunning and stronger even, yet they are defeated by a goody-two-shoes who knows nothing of the world.

Curious, how curious. How could that happen? Logically, the villains should win. It's unfair, like the world is against them. Don't some of the villains come from the same root? So how come they are different?

Crowley wasn't having it. He wanted to know why, and he liked them enough to decide that villains should be heroes too.

And so, he made a story—a story with a certain ending in mind but a hole in between which pages will gradually be filled with time.

He made a world where 7 villains he carefully selected became the most prominent figures in Twisted Wonderland. He wrote the good things he saw in them, and gradually, people admired these figures.

He even made a place for their embodiments so he can watch over and figure out what made them lose. To do this, he made the Royal Sword Academy where the good guys are, the rivals to the villains.

Crowley intended to observe them. They are placed together in a school with 7 dorms. He wanted to see what made them different from the good guys.

It didn't take too long to figure out. Although they are thoroughly competent, they refuse to work together. Each came up with a different plan and proposed the others follow them. The others are of distinguished backgrounds and therefore are too prideful and stubborn to follow.

The story refused to move forward. It stays the same, and nothing changed. They refused to change.

Crowley is upset; this is not the kind of ending he wishes to see. Something must change to move forward, and so Crowley tweaks the story a little bit and begins another story with a twist.

The first Alice, Yuu, gets called over. Yuu is the anomaly in this story. The villains are characters that can't change too much, or else they lack their own identity—the "you are what makes you," if you will. They have to be the same yet different. So Yuu will be the catalyst to move the story forward, the wheels to the cart, and the cogs to the machine.

This Yuu was to be a middleman, smooth things over and let them work together. He was a person of low birth who somehow became a noble. He knew the hardship, and he knew how to connect with people.

The story ended too shortly, sadly. Yuu died. Someone with ill intention killed him, and the others are too indifferent to his death.

Crowley thought that yes, this must be it. This is what sets villains apart from the heroes. It's because they don't care about a single life, and if they do, it is because they lost a good person that benefited them a lot.

Was it because the heroes were kind and good that people would help them? Surely that must be the explanation; otherwise, Snow White wouldn't be able to escape and live due to the hunter and the dwarves, nor would Belle be spared by the beast. Princess Aurora wouldn't wake up if the fairies didn't seek help from Prince Charming.

Because the villains were selfish and indifferent, people don't like them and won't lend a hand. This wouldn't do. Crowley wanted them to be heroes; he wanted to paint the ugly black heart into pure white snow.

The ink dropped on a blank page, and a new story started once again.

Second Alice comes, and Yuu is her name. She is gentle, kind, and her heart is filled with empathy, and she is also willing to voice out her concern. This is good, Crowley thought. This will teach them how to feel, and they also have a rough childhood.

Surely if they are touched by her open heart and kindness, they are willing to change, be kind in return, willing to work together for the same goal.

He watched in interest; they appeared to be enamored with Yuu, who is like a little butterfly fluttering about, only for those wings to rip apart.

"Oh, why are they so cruel?" Crowley lamented. Instead of taking care of it, they'd rather have the wings torn apart. They could not stand the butterfly landing on someone's hands even for a moment.

Crowley called forth another Alice just as the story starts. Again and again and again. He will write the story as many times as he can until the story is to his satisfaction.

He exhausted his magic, and the villains are still doomed to fail by their own flaws and unlucky things. Yuu can only do so much before everything falls apart.

And then the ink splotches on the half-written story, and Overblot came to life. He could not erase their existence. The ink forever stained the pages. Crowley could only roll with it even as new anomalies dubbed Overblot began to pop up. The story hasn't ended yet, and he will only start anew if it stopped.

It was a rather unusual thing to say, but it is the farthest chapters that Crowley has been through. They were nearing the end in every new story with every Alice/Yuu changed.

He lost count of how many Alice/Yuu he has lost and how many villains that slowly changed their way lose their lives to these monsters. No doubt that the perfect story is about to be achieved. The greatest happy ending that the villains deserved is waiting just this close, with a monster blocking the way.

Ink began to drop from his face, dripping onto the already stained book. Crowley too is also nearing his end. His magic is already depleted from using his unique magic and fetching Yuu every time a story starts.

A new story is about to begin, and Crowley stood in front of the Dark Mirror with a white mask. The mask also had ink on it, telling him that the Dark Mirror too had used up their power to summon Yuu.

The next one has to be someone who could survive to the end. Someone who could befriend the villains and show them kindness and recognition they deserved. Someone that can change their ways and improve their perspective of the world no matter how little. Someone to be there by their side until everything.

He reached out to the person whose visage formed on the mirror, urging the person on the other side to take his hand.

"For thee, guided by the Mirror of Darkness,

Follow thy heart and take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror.

Flames that turn even stars into ashes,

Ice that imprisons even time,

Great tree that swallows even the sky,

Don't be afraid of the power of darkness,

Come now, show your power.

Mine, theirs, and yours,

There's only a little time left for us.

Do not let go of that hand, at all costs."

Who would have thought that the new Alice who will guide them all to the perfect ending will be a magicless human who is quite troublesome and reckless in nature?

-

Every Yuu is different. They are summoned from different world/dimension/time to help aid his story (to influence). All of them have magic. Crowley doubted the last Alice/Yuu (from the game. Depends.) will be the last key to open the final door since they are magicless.

Fits for yandere theme as well. This Yuu is very valuable and the key to happiness. Of course they want Yuu to stay here. Of course Crowley wouldn't let them go.

[willalove75]

The Estate | Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!oc Chapter 2

Summary: Your first day of work continues and you try your best to impress your new boss.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Fluff? Dash of angst at the end, not much else to tag for now!

I'll add more tags as needed!

Notes: Chapter 2! I am trying to make this a genuine slow burn so it's going to take a tiny bit to get going (especially to get to the fun smutty stuff - but don't fret, it will definitely happen!) but I hope you all stick around and enjoy the ride! I have a lot of great things planned for this fic so stay tuned!

After Alcina leaves for her meeting you get settled at your desk. Opening the new laptop box you're surprised to see it's a new MacBook. You were expecting some kind of crappy ThinkPad. Once you're settled and hooked up to the two monitors you start diving into the estates social media accounts. Switching between checking them out on the computer and seeing how they look on your phone, you start taking detailed notes of your initial impressions. You note a few analytics you were able to find and you write down some ideas on how to improve the channels.

After you vetted the social media channels you look at the past marketing strategies your predecessor had laid out. Impressed with the work they had put into the strategies, there wasn't much that needed changing. Most of the things you tweaked were more personal preference than anything else.

You thought it would take time to get back into the groove since it's been almost two years since you've done any of this, but to your pleasant surprise it was seamless. Before you know it you have half a dozen pages of written notes on the social media accounts and marketing strategies. Although you're not sure if it's because it's your first day on the job and you want to impress your boss, or because it's been so long since you've been able to sink your teeth into something like this and you're making up for lost time. Glancing between the monitors and your notebook, invested in your work, you didn't realize Alcina came back from her meeting and was standing in the doorway watching you.

With her arms loosely crossed over her chest, leaning against the doorframe, Alcina watches you for a few minutes as you work. Observing you as you look between your notebook, writing what looked to her like very detailed notes, and your computer screen. You're completely oblivious to her presence. The corner of her lip curls up just a little as she hears you muttering to yourself. She's impressed with your diligence, but is curious if the effort you're putting in now will last or if you're just trying to impress her on your first day. Dropping one arm, she gently knocks against your office door.

You're pulled from your hyper-focus when you hear a soft knock on the door. Looking over, you see Alcina leaning against the doorframe, one arm laid across her chest.

"Oh! I'm so sorry I didn't see you there." You say as a blush creeps across your cheeks.

"No apologies necessary," She says, her voice as smooth as velvet. "I see you've made some progress with the social media channels?"

"Yes, I was able to go through them. Not as thoroughly as I wanted to, but enough so I could get an idea of where everything stands."

"And what are your thoughts?"

"Oh, did you want me to go over everything now?"

"I would. I am very curious to know what your thoughts are, especially since you came so highly regarded from your previous employer."

You feel your heart almost leap out of your chest.

"You- you talked to my last boss?"

"I did. I do with all of my potential employees, especially those with a two year gap in their CV's." She says, raising an eyebrow at you.

You let out a nervous chuckle and you feel yourself getting warm.

"Wh-what did they say? If you don't mind me asking, that is." You quickly add.

"That you were an excellent addition to their staff. That you are brilliant at what you do and that it was a pleasure to work with you. Your boss also mentioned that he was sad to see you go but wished you well."

A blush creeps across your cheeks. You really liked your old job, but after everything happened you couldn't stay - you couldn't do anything for two years honestly.

"Oh, well, that's really nice of them to say. Did he, um, say anything else about my resignation?"

"Only that you resigned due to a personal issue outside of work."

A wave of relief washes over you, you weren't ready to have that conversation with your new boss - not yet at least. There was a part of you that thought you were insane for calling your old boss, asking him not to mention details of your resignation. But it seems like the conversation paid off, and as usual, you were able to trust him.

"Oh, good." You say with a little too much relief. Alcina tilts her head and her eyes narrow a bit at you. "Not good, I meant, it's nice to know that he respects the privacy of his employees, past and present." You say, trying to save yourself. Alcina purses her lips a bit, you can tell that now she's even more curious about why you left your last job and why you haven't worked since. "The last two years have been, difficult, really difficult actually. But things are finally getting better and I'm really excited to be working again, to be able to put my skills to good use."

Alcina can't quite make heads or tails of your situation. She knows you have a 3 year old, so she was one when you stopped working, "Perhaps it had something to do with her daughter? Or maybe something happened to her. Maybe she was sick? But she looks healthy." Although Alcina knows better than anyone that looking healthy doesn't necessarily mean you are healthy. She wants to push you for more information but not only does she know that's incredibly unprofessional and inappropriate, she can tell you're avoiding talking about it so she lets it go for now.

"Then I would love to see your skills." She says as she walks up to your desk and stands behind you.

"O-okay." You say, looking up at her. She looks down at you and the corner of her lip just barely curls into a smile, her blue-grey eyes boring into yours. Fuck, she's gorgeous. You take a subtle deep breath to calm yourself and inhale the scent of her perfume. It smells expensive and mature, but also pretty and calming. It completely distracts you for a moment. You can hear her shift her weight from one leg to the other behind you and you snap back into the present.

"Is there anything in particular you want me to start with?" You ask, looking up at her over your shoulder.

"No, just show me what you've done so far." She replies with a wave of her hand.

You flip to the first page of your notes and start from the beginning. Starting off with the estates Instagram page, you tell her your thoughts on the visual aspects, the layout, the images themselves, how they could be improved, captions and hashtags that could be utilized more often, ideas for reels, stories and posts that can promote events and day-to-day operations. Next you move to the Facebook page, showing her some of the analytics you've collected, how the page can be improved, etc.. You go through the rest of the social media channels; telling her that embracing newer apps like TikTok and more professional ones such as LinkedIn can help drive traffic to the other social media accounts as well as the website. Alcina rolls her eyes at the mention of "TikTok" which makes you giggle a little.

"Something funny?" She asks with an unamused edge to her voice.

"Oh, no, sorry." You say, freezing in place. "It's just, I've seen that reaction quite a lot when talking about TikTok and it always makes me laugh a bit."

"What about it is funny?" She doesn't sound offended, at least you don't think she does. God you hope you didn't offend her on the first day.

"Because it really is a stupid app, it's like Vine but for Gen Z kids." She gives you a look when you mention "Vine," which lets you know that she doesn't know what that is. "Uh, Vine was a short form video social media channel, you could only make six second videos and it was mostly used by Millennials and some Generation Xers. It became massive quickly and a lot of the videos turned into popular memes. It was only around for four years before it was shut down, but it had over like, 200 million users or something crazy like that. Anyway, TikTok is similar to that. It's definitely hard to take it seriously when there's a lot of ridiculous videos on it. It's so massive and so popular, it would be stupid to not utilize since it can drive so much traffic to our other socials and even drive people through the doors."

"Is that your professional opinion?" She deadpans. You look up at her, confused. "That it would be stupid to not use it?"

Biting your lip for a second, you realize that what you said without thinking could easily have come off as if you're calling her stupid. With no way of digging yourself out of this one you shyly reply "Yeah."

Alcina quirks and eyebrow and her eyes go back to the screen.

"Interesting, continue."

After you go through the rest of the social medias and a little bit of the analytics that you found, you move onto the marketing strategies your predecessor left. Alcina is quiet but nods her head along as you go over what they left and what your thoughts are on it. After you mention the few things you plan on changing you make it a point to let her know that it's more for personal preference rather than professional reasons. She looks pleased as you go over what the person before you left and she gives you a nod of approval when you tell her what you plan on changing.

"I like the changes you plan on making and I agree with you in terms of personal preference. John was brilliant but I couldn't stand the way he did things. But how he did what he did worked so I had no real qualms with it. I already know I prefer your way."

"Thank you. It seems more logical and straightforward doing it like this, at least to me. I try to keep things as simple as possible so there's little room for error or miscommunication."

"Those are all things I appreciate. Very well done Kathleen, I must say I am impressed." She places her hand on your shoulder and you have to stop yourself from relaxing into her touch.

What is wrong with you? Have you really gone that long without physical contact? There's a part of you that thinks that it's just her putting you under her spell - whether she knows it or not. But you quickly push that thought out of your head. She's your new boss for gods sake! You need to get laid. You make a mental note to give your friends-with-benefits guy a call this week.

"I must say, I had my concerns when I hired you. I was aware of the fact that you've been out of work the last two years. My main concern was that you would be a bit rusty right off the bat, but just from what you've shown me you've already been able to put those concerns to bed. I am pleasantly surprised and happy to see that your work is just as wonderful as the work in your portfolio." Alcina gently squeezes your shoulder and takes her hand away.

"Oh, thank you so much. I really, really appreciate that. Please let me know if you have any other concerns so I can do my best to ease those as well." You say with a smile.

For a moment Alcina looks impressed but just as quickly as the look appeared, it disappeared.

"My only other concern would be that you strive to impress me early and then fail to do so after the first few weeks. Which I certainly hope is not the case. Aside from that, I believe you're going to do a wonderful job here."

"I absolutely understand. I know I tend to hit the ground running, but I can assure you I have the endurance to keep up the pace I've set."

"We shall see about that." Alcina says as she heads towards the door. "Wonderful work Kathleen. I am looking forward to see how well it all pays off."

Once Alcina is out of sight you lean back in your chair and exhale. It worries you a little that she seems to have some doubts in you. But from her perspective, you can understand why she would and you try to not let it get to you. You pick up your phone and you realize that you were with her for over an hour. There's no way, it felt like you were talking to her for maybe 30 minutes. How did that take over an hour?! And how was she standing there in those heels for so long without fidgeting or sitting down? That thought alone bewilders you. You're sitting for most of the day and you can't wait to get your shoes off the second you walk inside. She gave you a thorough tour of the place and stood there for over an hour and walked away like it was nothing? You were impressed to say the least.

With only a few hours left in your day, you decide now is better than ever to have lunch. After debating for a few minutes if you should shut your door or not, you decide to close it to give you a few minutes of peace while you eat. As you're eating your lunch at your desk, you scroll through Facebook and Instagram mindlessly. Michelle hasn't texted you since this morning so you're assuming everything is fine but you text her anyway to make sure. She responds a few minutes later with a picture of Emma asleep, taking her afternoon nap. The door to your office flies open and almost slams into the wall, causing you to jump in your seat.

A young, redheaded girl walks through the door with a backpack slung over her shoulder. When you jump she notices you and jumps too, letting out a yell.

"OH MY GOD WHO ARE YOU?" She yells.

You sit there for a moment in shock, unsure how to answer. This girl can't be older than 16, who is she? And what is she doing here?

"I-I'm Katie, the new marketing and social media strategist. Uh, who are you?"

The sound of heels against the floor takes your attention away. When you look at the door, Alcina is standing there with an unamused look on her face. She's looking at the young girl, you almost feel sorry for her but you're grateful she's not looking at you like that right now.

"Daniela." Alcina says through her teeth.

"Hi mommy!" She says, amping up the sweetness. Daniela wraps her arms around her mother and Alcina returns the gesture. She looks up at Alcina and Alcina arches an eyebrow at her, very well aware of that fact that Daniela is trying to soften her up so she doesn't get in trouble.

"Hello bug. Did you forget that our new marketing and social media strategist was starting today?"

"Yes, sorry mamă."

"Mhm." Alcina mutters before placing a kiss on the girls forehead. She pulls away from the girl, leaving one arm around her shoulder.

"Kathleen, this is my youngest daughter Daniela. Daniela, this is Kathleen."

"Wow you're pretty!" Daniela says.

You try and fail to bite back the smile that crosses your face and Alcina lets out a low, wait did she growl? That's what it sounded like, towards her daughter.

"Sorry." Daniela says, looking down at the floor.

"Its okay." You say with a smile. "It's great to meet you Daniela."

"It's nice meeting you too Kathleen!" She says, the excitement in her voice suddenly back. "Can I call you Katie?"

"Daniela." Alcina warns.

"It's okay," you say to Alcina with a smile. "Yeah, you can call me Katie."

Daniela's face lights up and she looks at her mom, beaming.

"So Katie, what's your favorite color?"

"Daniela that's enough." Alcina says, softer this time. "Kathleen is busy and has work that needs to get done. Your shift doesn't start for another 30 minutes, why don't you go find something to do until then?"

"You work here?" You ask, your words leaving your mouth before you even realize it.

"Yeah!" Daniela says, turning towards you. "I wait the tables, I can't serve alcohol until I'm 18 so I can't be behind the bar like Cass, but I can't wait to learn how to bartend! Mamă," she says, turning back towards Alcina. "where am I supposed to go now? There is where I would hang out!"

"You can stay in my office bug."

"Ugh. But your office is so boring!"

"I apologize draga mea but that seems to be your only option. Unless you want to start sweeping the tasting room before your shift starts?"

Daniela pouts at her mother who looks down at her adoringly.

"Fiinnneeeeee." She says, defeated. "Bye Katie! It was really awesome meeting you!"

"It was great meeting you too Daniela."

Daniela walks out and heads towards her mothers office and Alcina turns towards you.

"I apologize, again, for my children's behavior. Daniela seems to have a never-ending amount of energy. I would like to promise it isn't always a zoo with them around, but-"

"It's okay, really. I get it." You say with a smile.

"I appreciate your understanding. Now that you met two of my three girls, I'm sure you will meet Bela tomorrow. She only has one morning class and is usually here for the rest of the day. If you would like, I can have her show you what she's been doing with the social media channels tomorrow and have her start to gradually hand over the reigns."

"Yeah, that sounds great."

"Excellent."

Alcina turns on her heel and walks out of your office. You almost completely forgot about your lunch so you scarf it down quickly and get back to work.

As you're focused on working out the latest marketing tactic, you hear a "pssst" at your door. Looking over, you see Daniela, now in a white button down shirt and black dress pants, her long red hair is pulled back tightly into a ponytail.

"Hey Daniela, is there something I-"

"Shh!" She says, putting her finger over her lips. "I don't want mom to hear. She'll get mad at me for bothering you." You can't help but giggle at her and she steps further into your office. "Sorry if calling you pretty before embarrassed you. Mom is always telling me I have to think before I speak but you're just, super pretty, and I just blurted it out and-"

"Daniela," you say and you notice her starting to spiral. "it's okay, I'm not upset, I promise. Thank you for the compliment."

Daniela tilts her head at you, almost as if she's confused that you're not upset with her. She squints her eyes at you, as if she's trying to decipher something.

"You're different. I like you. I'm going to give you a new nickname."

"And what nickname will that be?"

"I don't know yet, but when I know, you'll know." You look behind her and see Alcina standing behind Daniela with her arms crossed over her chest and eyes narrowed at her daughter. How did she not make a single sound in those heels? And how long was she there for? Alcina clears her throat and Daniela jumps and turns around, looking like a deer in headlights.

"Mamă!" She says, trying to butter her mother up again.

"Don't even try."

Daniela smiles wide at her mother and turns back towards you.

"Bye Katie!"

"Bye Daniela." You say with a smile.

Alcina's eyes don't leave Daniela's head as she turns and leaves your office and Alcina follows behind her.

"Ce ti-am spus despre deranjarea ei? Nu înțeleg cum ai întârziat la tura ta, în timp ce ești aici de o jumătate de oră." (What did I tell you about bothering her? I don't understand how you're late for your shift meanwhile you've been here for half an hour.)

"Imi pare rau mama!" (I'm sorry mom!)

The rest of your day goes by rather smoothly and by the time you know it, you're packing up your things and getting ready to leave. Before you go, you stop by Alcina's office and knock gently on the door.

"Come in."

You open the door and Alcina looks up from her computer and smiles.

"Ah, Kathleen, is it the end of the day already?" She asks, more to herself you think, and she looks at the clock.

"Yeah, it went by fast. Is there anything else you need me to do before I go?"

"There is not, thank you. But I did want to speak with you, do you have a moment?"

"Absolutely." You say and she motions to the chair in front of her desk.

"So, how was your first day?" She asks, taking off her glasses and giving you her full attention.

"Honestly, it was great. I feel like I got a lot done and made some great headway on the new campaigns and strategies."

"I'm very happy to hear that. Is there anything you're unsure of or any questions you have?"

You pause for a moment to think.

"Um, not right now, but if something comes up I will let you know."

"Excellent. I'm glad you had a productive first day. I am looking forward to see the things we spoke about come to fruition."

"So am I."

"Well then, if that's all, I will see you tomorrow. Have a wonderful rest of your day Kathleen." She says with a smile.

"Thank you, you too."

After getting your stuff from your office you walk through the tasting room and see Daniela.

"Katie!! You're going home already?!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Will you be here tomorrow?!"

"Yes I will be!"

"YAY!"

"Daniela." Cassandra growls from across the room. Daniela shrinks down a little and looks up at you apologetically.

"It's okay kiddo." You say, giving her a gentle smile. Daniela's face lights up again and she gives you a big smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow Katie!!"

"See you tomorrow Daniela." She heads over to one of the tables and you turn towards the bar to say goodbye to Cassandra. She glares at you and turns her back to you. "Alrighty." You say quietly to yourself and head to the car.

You pick up Emma and talk to your in-laws for a bit, giving them a brief recap of your first day. They both seem happy for you and you sense a little bit of relief from them too, but you know neither of them would ever say it out loud. When you get home you talk to Marge, giving her the same brief recap and she tells you she's proud of you. With Emma in tow the two of you head upstairs. Emma insisting on walking up the stairs herself since she's "a big girl."

Once dinner was eaten and cleaned up you gave Emma a bath and put her to bed. When she's finally asleep you pull out a bottle of wine and pour yourself a glass. With your wine in hand you sit on the couch and flip through a few suggested shows, settling on re-watching a few episodes of your favorite comfort show. After finishing the wine and relaxing for a bit, you get yourself ready for bed. Before you know it, you're fast asleep. It's the fastest you've been able to fall asleep in a long time and you're grateful for it.

When you open your eyes you find yourself in that all-too familiar field. Where the sky is clear and blue and the green grass is blowing in the wind.

You look around and finally spot the figure in the distance once more. Your heart clenches in your chest and you try to move towards it but you can't. No matter how hard you pull against your legs your muscles won't budge. The harder you fight against the led in your legs the harder it becomes. A silent cry rings out into the air and you find yourself becoming more and more desperate to move.

When you look up, you see the figure begin walking towards you. No matter how loudly you try to call out to it no sound passes through your lips. It closes half of the distance between the two of you before stopping once more. With one final desperate pull you're finally able to move your leg. Your movement is so slow, it feels like cinderblocks are tied to your ankles but you continue moving closer.

The shadow across the figures face lightens just enough so you think you can make out who it is. With your heart hammering inside of your chest you try and push forward faster. Just before the shadow falls away the figure begins to fade. You try and scream. You feel it reverberate through your vocal chords but again no sound comes out. Desperately you try and push forward faster, trying to reach it before it disappears.

Just as you reach out to touch it, it vanishes.

"NO!" You scream.

Your voice echoes through the valley. It combs through the tall grass and expands in the air reaching as far as the eye can see. Tears stream down your face and you fall to the ground on your knees. Another wail tears through your vocal chords. The sound flies through the air and as if it hits a wall, it reverberates back to you.

Your eyes snap open and you shoot up out of bed. With a ragged breath your eyes scan the room and you realize you're in your bedroom. You put your hand over your chest and you feel your heart hammering away inside of your ribcage. The sound of your alarm goes off again and you shut it off. Dragging your hand across your cheeks you realize you're wiping away fresh tears.

Looking down at the empty side of the bed you feel your heart ache. You grab your necklace from around your neck and trace the heart shape with your fingers in an attempt to ground yourself. When you feel your heartbeat finally settle you decide to get out of bed and get ready for your second day of work.