#and when lucky they may meet in secret

[druidonity2]

2021 just some guys celebrating pride

[snaileer]

Call to My Bedside

When Danny wakes up with shackles around his wrists and chains pinning him to the wall, he’s not all that surprised to see his mother in front of him.

And no, he doesn’t mean Madeline Fenton, although he wonders if he’d be surprised by that either and really, what does that say about his life?

But no, he’s not all that surprised to be staring into the eyes of Talia Al Ghul right now.

Even if his heart stops at the sight of her.

Immediately, he tries to stand, shoulders pulled painfully behind him as he tries not to let her loom over him.

This is a woman he barely remembers, through no effort of her own, but that’s what happens when you left a kid to be trained by strangers before he’s whisked off to America against his will at age 5.

Really she was lucky he remembered her at all.

She crouches down slightly to make up for their height difference, face softening too quickly to be real, “I am Talia Al Ghul. Though you may not remember, you are my child-“

“I remember.” Danny cuts her off, trying to keep the anger from making his eyes glow. He does remember, he remembers enough to know that it would be dangerous for them to know he has powers.

He settles for glaring at her.

For a second it seems she just watches him, but the kindness drops from her face as she straightens.

The slap catches him hard enough to jerk his head to the side, chains rattling behind him as he unsuccessfully tries to catch himself.

Instead, they go taut behind him, leaving him to jerk sideways, breath rough by the surprise of the hit.

“Do not interrupt me, child.” Her voice rings cold in the air.

Danny doesn’t bother to lift his head, instead keeping his eyes pinned to the grimy floor. Had he forgotten how unforgiving this place was? What it was like?

“Look at me.”

Danny kept his eyes downwards. He didn’t want to look at her. He wanted to go home.

“Look at me, or suffer the punishment,” She said, voice steely.

He slowly lifted his head, eyes meeting hers.

“Good. You know who you are then, child? What place you are meant to hold in this world?”

Danny doesn’t answer, only glaring.

She barely blinks but her eyes sharpen in warning.

Danny grits his teeth, “I’m Danny al -Al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s head of the League of Assassins-“

The second hit is just as hard, but Danny is better braced for it.

“Your name is Danyal Al-Ghul, you are my blood and the blood of Batman, your heritage dictates a higher quality of discipline than this and you will show it.”

Everything in Danny’s being rebels against the name. He hasn’t been Danyal in years. And he refuses to go back to it.

He straightens his back, ignoring the ache of his shoulders as he snarls at her, “My name is Danny, Danny Fenton. I haven’t been your precious heir in years, and you can’t make me now.”

They couldn’t and he wouldn’t let them, not when he had the power to-

Talia idly pulls something from behind her and he feels the blood drain from his face.

It’s a picture of him, Tucker, and Sam, next to it is a larger grid of images, each making his heart drop further in his chest.

Sam. Tucker.

Jazz. Mom. Dad.

All of them in cells. Chained.

Hurt.

His family, his family-

“Did you think we would not know of your gifts? Would not know how you would think to leave us? You clearly do not remember as much as you think you do.”

Danny can barely hear her over the static rushing in his ears.

She grabs his face roughly, “We are the League, child, and you are one of us. You may have thought you were like them, but we are better. Meant for better, and you will not be allowed to squander the gifts bestowed on our bloodline through you. Until you can make the right choice yourself, as your blood, we will make them for you.”

Danny looks into her eyes, the certainty behind her words, and he feels a gaping emptiness open inside him. The kind that knows it’s not going away.

He wants to go home. He wants to see his family, and his friends. He doesn’t care that his parents don’t know his secret, that he’s just barely getting a handle on it himself, he just doesn’t want to be here. Not again. Please, not again.

Talia releases him, and he lets his body droop, sinking into himself as he crouches over the ground, the restriction of his arms keeping him from even fully curling around himself.

“Remove the chains, he will not be going anywhere,” Talia says, her shadow falling over him in the dim light of the doorway.

Danny barely moves as the cold metal falls away from his wrists.

And he knows she’s right.

He won��t be going anywhere. Not as long as his family is in danger.

—

The first months were hard. Harder than Danny remembers. Maybe his five-year old self had just had it easy.

He doesn’t now.

“Again!” His instructor shouts, bamboo staff coming down on the back of Danny’s knees.

He doesn’t let himself stumble. Not anymore.

At least his Arabic is getting better, he can understand it completely, as if he’d never forgotten it -as if it’d been his mother tongue- and he can speak it smoothly again, though shallow. You can’t even hear his American accent anymore.

Danny hasn’t spoken English since that first week, when they’d beaten it into him every time he’d tried.

When they’d beaten him for not understanding fast enough. Not reacting fast enough, not responding fast enough, to a language he didn’t know, hadn’t known for years now.

They’re right about one thing.

Pain is an excellent teacher.

“Again!”

He moves fast enough to dodge the bamboo stick this time, body shooting forward against his opponent.

Dodge, lunge, feint, block, swipe, block, block, block-shit-block, reach-

His back slams against the stone floor of the courtyard, knocking the breath out of him.

The instructor doesn’t step in. He won’t.

Not even when his opponent’s hands clamp around his throat.

Danny struggles, trying to use his inhuman strength to pull the arms away, but that inhumanity has waned since he’s been here, drained like the rest of his energy.

He feels the weight begin to build in his skull, he can’t breathe, he doesn’t have much longer, what can he- Danny forcefully moves his arms away, fighting instinct, instead pulling his legs up and rolling, just as they’d drilled into him, the change in leverage giving him the break he needed to be free as he stands-

The bamboo slams into his back, knocking him forward, “Again!”

Danny rolls with the momentum, ignoring the new throbbing in favor of dodging his opponent’s grappling fists.

Dodge, lunge, dodge, swipe, dodge, dodge, hit, swipe, block, forward, dodge, block-

Danny breathes through the sweat dripping down his skin, the way his ribs creak with every breath, the way his muscles feel numb and disconnected. None of it matters.

He just has to win.

He doesn’t have any other options.

He never did.

Not really.

This is why they brought him here.

Why he was born.

He has to win.

Danyal twists the arm of his opponent back until there’s a sickening crack.

“Again!”

A new opponent flies towards him with fists already raised.

He doesn’t have any other option.

He never did.

——

The next time he sees Talia is just before the ceremony to his next stage. She is waiting in his room when he walks in.

“Mistress,” He greets, bowing his head, feeling phantom pain bloom on his cheeks. It’s the only thing that makes him call her that.

“Danyal, your training is going well,” She says, voice idle in that meandering sort of way. This isn’t why she’s here.

“I will improve,” He says anyways. Because he knows he’s not meeting their standards yet, knows they’re disappointed by the heaviness in his bones that weighs him down and drains his energy.

She stands, making Danny go stock still as she approaches, featherlight touch on his chin as she tilts it upwards.

English drifts from her lips, “You have his eyes, his cheekbones…” her eyes drift down again, and it still doesn’t feel like she’s even really looking at him, “My chin and my jaw…not like Damia-“

Her hand drops.

Danny can’t figure out the change but he can feel it. Hesitantly, he asks, in Arabic still, “Talia, why… are you here?”

The steel returns.

“The bat is dead. You are the last of his power,” She says, then pauses. She seems torn about saying more.

She doesn’t, exiting silently as Danny stares into the air, unmoving.

His… birth father… was dead?

A man that was a great enough warrior to impress the Demon’s Head. Impress Talia.

A man… he didn’t even know the real name of.

It’s not like the Bat was anything more than a name to him.

A name he had to live up to.

Danny sighs and turns to his drawers. He has a training ceremony to prepare for.

——

Danny doesn’t resist the arms that hold him back as they swipe a broad slash across the skin of his back with the whip, simply letting himself curl inwards around the pain before he’s dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

He pulls himself back up just soon enough to see the next person dragged in and thrown in front of him.

The handle of the blade is pressed into his hand.

It wouldn’t be hard.

It should be hard. Right?

Killing a man whose crimes he doesn’t even know should be hard. It’s meant to be hard, right?

Danyal wishes he doesn’t know how easy it will be to fall into it.

But he can’t keep doing this. Collecting scars because he’s clinging to morals that aren’t even his.

He can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep doing any of this.

He has to.

Danyal slices the edge of the blade across the man’s neck.

The cut is clean. Deep.

He’s dead in less than a minute.

Danyal’s own blood continues to flow.

——

Danyal doesn’t know what’s happening. One minute he’s training, trying to push past the exhaustion lining his bones, and the next the entire west side of the courtyard is in flames, crumbling down the side of the mountain.

Danny runs through the rubble of the passageways, searching for the source, searching for reasons, searching for… he doesn’t know, but he knows he can’t be caught doing nothing.

He doesn’t find anything except ruins.

Danny is called to meet Ra’s Al Ghul two weeks later. His grandfather. The Demon’s head.

The man doesn’t even look at him.

Danny stays kneeling all the same, better safe than beaten again.

“Are you familiar with Red Robin?”

Danny inclines his head, just barely, “I… can’t say I am…Great One.”

The following hum is derisive.

“He is one of the Bat’s… followers. Recently, he has proven himself to me. His ruthlessness is impressive, his ability to pursue his goals: admirable. He would make the perfect heir,” Ra’s says and he must know it makes Danny’s heart drop, why else would he say it, “Do you know what Timothy lacks, Danyal?”

Danyal stays quiet, eyes tracking the grit of the floor.

After a pause, near silent footsteps enter his vision, “You are the culmination of his mentor’s blood and my own, blessed with the gifts of the Lazarus pits, and yet-“ the cape swirls as Ra’s turns away, “Yet it is squandered by the mistakes of your upbringing!” He yells.

Danyal clenches his fists, willing himself silent.

The air of the room falls level again, “I grow tired of your mediocrity, Danyal. You will advance, or I will stop wasting my resources keeping your baggage alive.”

Danny’s head whips up before he can think better of it, meeting Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes where they stare down at him.

“Do not mistake my past grace for mercy, Danyal. Mercy makes men weak. There is no room for weakness, and we are here to purge it from this world. Do not forget that.”

“Of course, Great One.” Danyal’s heart pounds in his ears, fear jumping across each beat sporadically, “I will do better.” He tries to fill his voice with confidence.

He’ll do better.

He has to.

Ra’s looks at him, then turns his back and waves a hand dismissively, finally allowing Danyal to stand and leave.

He feels Ra’s’ eyes on his back the entire time as he leaves. And no matter how much he wants to, he doesn’t stop in the hallway. Even once the door is closed, he continues forward.

In his mind, Danny stops and heaves a breath through the grief crashing over him.

In his mind, Danny is a million miles away, at home, with his family around him, happy and safe.

In his mind, Danny rushes back into Ra’s al Ghul’s grandiose throne room and attacks him with the sword he’s forced on him, not stopping until he’s free or dead.

In reality, Danyal breathes out with false calm and moves on.

He has training to get to.

——

Danyal can feel the pressure of the Leagues- of Ra’s’- expectations pushing down on him.

It’s not new.

But he doesn’t let it weigh him down anymore. He doesn’t have that luxury.

Instead, he uses it to push himself harder, farther, pushing until he reaches those expectations.

And surpasses them.

And keeps going.

He won’t-can’t stop. So he keeps going.

Moving up, learning, training, getting better, faster, getting stronger.

Getting weaker.

Danyal ignores the strained whisper of his core in his chest in favor of aiming at the target in his scope.

An Ethiopian politician, making a name for himself by drafting new acts supporting the build of a dam on the Nile River.

It would endanger the lives of thousands in Egypt, cutting them off from the water that has flowed through their country for millennia.

It would never make it through the legislative ruling without him.

This is their duty. To cull the disease. To burn away the parasites killing the world. The ones feeding off excess.

Danyal pulls the trigger and starts packing the gun away.

His hands move with robotic precision, even without his guidance. No, his eyes and his focus are elsewhere.

Instead, Danny stares at the newspaper laying damp on rooftop gravel, eyes scanning every detail, every line.

May 7th of 20XX. Almost two years.

Alien invasion recently. Superman.

New hero in Russia.

Multiple car crashes in Pakistan. All survived.

None of it really matters to him, not really, it doesn’t tell him anything interesting, nothing he needs to know. It’s not even an American newspaper.

But…It’s the closest he’s come to freedom in three years.

Is it bad that what he calls a taste of freedom is knowing how long it’s been since he’s been free?

The rifle case clicks shut beneath his fingertips and he stands without so much as a lingering glance at the newspaper.

Danyal leaps off the roof, scaling down the side, ignoring the way his legs want to collapse beneath him as he lands in an alley.

He heads towards the rendezvous, job finished. Efficient as always.

Exactly as is expected of him.

———

It is several months more that he begins to realize there may be something truly wrong.

He’s training-fighting, losing- with the Lady Shiva. If Red Robin could beat her, Danyal must as well.

He’s fairing… okay.

They’ve been engaging for a while now, for a fight, a minute at least, maybe two.

He feels his breath rough in his chest, his face slick with sweat, his body buzzing with adrenaline and the push to do better-

His heart squeezes, seizing up tense and frozen for just a second, his body following in surprise-

There’s a sword through his stomach.

Danyal tries to focus again, to swing his sword, like he’s been trained, but everything feels… loose.

The sword is removed from his stomach, wet blood sliding down his tunic. Cold floor beneath his knees, had he fallen? No, he had to stand, get up, get up, get up. Get up!

Please, you have to get-

There’s hands on him, moving him, the hallways are too dark, -get up, you have to get up- he can’t tell where they’re going. No they’re not dark, his eyes are closed, he pries them open, gasping for breath as the pain in his stomach tears deeper.

Please, he just wants to go home.

Darkness still clouds his vision, but the people carrying him barely glance back as he groans.

His eyes flicker shut, too heavy to keep open as he tries to focus on anything but the pain, on not bleeding out, on please don’t let him die here, not here, please.

They enter another door, letting him stumble across steps farther and farther down.

When they reach the bottom, it seems as though every sound is sucked out from the room. An eerie silence thick in the air.

It forces his eyes open, just a squint, darkness prickling at the edges of his vision.

He barely catches a glance of cave walls before he feels himself thrown forward.

And familiar green fills his vision.

Panic surges.

Pain in his stomach. -His hand. The button!-

Green water surrounding him. -The portal is on!-

Liquid fills his mouth when he tries to scream. -There’s no sound between dimensions.-

It feels like burning acid running across every nerve of his open wound, creeping into his pores like tar covering a dying animal.

But it doesn’t feel like death.

He would know.

It feels a little like life.

He doesn’t want it.

He doesn’t get a choice.

He never does.

It feels like a thousand screaming souls, begging for justice and for freedom, just as he is.

They shout and yell at him to do something, to fight where they can’t, why can’t they, they’re so helpless, angry at their helplessness, angry at their inability, angry angry angry

Their pleas fill his ears, louder with each passing second.

He’s angry, angry, angry- how dare they, how dare they- he could win, they can’t stop him, they deserve it-who’s they?- he’s going to kill them, they can’t stop him-

Frigid humid air stings against his skin, no longer submerged, and green fog tinges everything.

But he-they- need to fight, kill them, stop them, do something, do something because they can’t- fight!

Danny lunges at the first person he sees, an assassin in all black at the edge of green waters.

His fist nearly collapses his skull. It doesn’t stop him.

There’s another and Danny lunges again, ignoring the sword that slashes towards him, grabbing it and snapping the metal with one hand, the other around the ninja’s neck, gripping, cracking, breaking-

Something heavy hits him over the head, the world staticking for a second as his hand loosens, a body dropping to the floor.

Hands reach at him, pulling, holding, restraining, and he fights with sharpened claws and fangs and burning fists of glowing energy and hands ripping hearts from their chest- until there’s so many bodies around him and restraining him, that it actually slows him down.

Enough to realize his powers are flowing easily once more, surprise cutting through the fog in his mind.

He stops actively pulling against the arms holding him down, his cheek now pressed painfully against rocky floor.

Where is he?

A nauseatingly familiar voice fills the room, “You managed quite the damage, Danyal,” Ra’s al Ghul stands in front of him, when Danny is able to lift his head and look, “Perhaps there is still potential hidden behind your weakness, the capabilities of your rage is akin to my first venture into these pools, so many centuries ago.”

The smile on Ra’s’ face sends twitches down his spine and confusion pools in his gut, “What…?” he murmurs, head still murky, but a bolt of fear races through his chest, and he forces his words into the League dialect once more, “What happened…? I..-“ His voice is small, and slowly he feels the assassins holding him release his arms and back away. He pushes himself upright to his knees, finding less strain in his muscles, in his bones, than he has for nearly two years.

“You failed your training, little Al Ghul,” A voice, Lady Shiva, speaks from his right. Her sword is still red.

Danyal’s eyes jump to hers, the memory rushing back- blood, the sword, falling, the water- his hand grips the side of his tunic even as his head snaps to the side, finally seeing the green waters lurking just next to them.

The Lazarus Pits, his training says.

Ectoplasm, his core whispers.

He looks down at the hole in the fabric of his tunic, any bloodstains around it all but gone. There’s not even a scratch.

The rest of his clothes are still layered with blood.

And Danyal knows it isn’t his.

He stands, watching as other league members file in, dragging away the bodies surrounding them.

There are too many to count.

He doesn’t even try.

Ra’s Al Ghul steps forward, drawing his focus once more.

He eyes Danyal critically, “Walk with me, child,” He says, already turning away with robes moving gracefully.

Danyal hurries to move with him, one step behind as they trail through the halls and corridors, slowly moving farther and farther up through the compound.

Finally they step out from an arch, the gentle late afternoon sun lighting up the sky with colors. Just enough light to see clearly, not enough to blind or burn.

It would’ve been a perfect afternoon to die on.

Instead, Danyal catches the sword thrown towards him with surprising grace. Ra’s face is filled with dangerous curiousity as he speaks, “Attack.”

Danyal doesn’t question it. Doesn’t wonder why Ra’s remains unarmed, doesn’t question if he might hurt him. He just acts, lunging forward at the command with nary a second thought.

“Starting today, you will train with me. Each week,” Ra’s speaks as he easily dodges and blocks Danyal’s hits, forcing him to take a new approach each time.

Danyal nods, “Of course, Great One.”

Ra’s knocks him to the ground, standing over him with sword drawn, “Call me Grandfather, Danyal. You’ve earned it.”

Danny’s heart squeezes.

He nods, “Of course Grandfather.”

——

After that, things change. Ra’s Al Ghul keeps to his word, calling for him each week, sometimes no more than a few days apart.

All too quickly it becomes a part of Danyal’s routine. The brutal training sessions of Ra’s beating him down and letting him up only to do it again.

He wishes he had it in him to question the Demon’s Head, but he doesn’t, so when Ra’s tells him to attack, even when unarmed, even when Danyal should rip his throat out with one use of intangibly, Danyal listens and attacks him.

Months into the now singular training, Danyal realizes that he hasn’t left this compound in a while, there hasn’t been a spontaneous move, or travel for a new master.

It’s just been… Ra’s.

He feels more stable, more stationary than he remembers being in so long. His youngest years had been the same routine of constant movement from base to base, compound to compound. And then he had lived.. in America, and had a single home, a house he knew the direction to from anywhere in town. For so many years, he been able to settle in one place.

Only to be uprooted once more, thrown back to everything he’d left behind, everything he’d-

Danyal enjoyed knowing where he would return to at the end of the day. The sense of familiarity that came with the same room, the same bed and halls, day after day, week after week.

Maybe that’s why it catches him by surprise when Ra’s calls for him at the base of a landing pad, jet idle behind him.

Danyal allows a nearby assassin to pass a pack into his hands, clearly full of materials.

For a moment, Danyal wonders where they are going? What new training awaits him at the other end?

Then Ra’s steps aside, dangerously graceful as ever, and reveals the bay of the jet to be not empty, but filled by assassins, each standing at command.

Danyal looks to Ra’s once more.

“An Al Ghul does not only follow, Danyal,” He says with a sharp smile as he approaches, laying a heavy hand on Danyal’s shoulder, “An Al Ghul leads. And as you are my heir, you must learn to command the respect of our members.” The hand squeezes on his shoulder, making him look up, meeting Ra’s in the eyes, “By any means necessary.”

Danyal looks away, looking back at the assassins waiting for him, for his command.

He’s not ready.

He has to be anyways.

The hand on his shoulder feels like lead as he steps out from under it, filling his voice with power he doesn’t feel, and sending the squadron scattering to new assignments.

Flight, equipment, weaponry, information, planning, infiltration, execution, all of it, it’s all on him to control.

Danyal turns back to gauge Ra’s’ reaction, only to find him already halfway gone, the sight of his retreating back the only response.

Okay, he’ll do this.

He can do this.

He has to.

What else can he do?

——

He takes to leading missions with the hand of a natural.

It’s easy.

Send these people here. These people here. Block every exit, erase every loose end, don’t leave any witnesses. Finish the mission.

Their missions are for the betterment of everyone, they are fixing things, getting rid of corrupt leaders, people unworthy of what they have, everything they’re doing is for a reason. It has a purpose.

He has a purpose.

So he ignores what’s behind every number he sends for each job. Ignores the calculation behind every call to secure the exit that has five private guards. Ignores the number behind the perimeter assignment because he knows the building has a late hour maid present each night.

They’re just numbers.

And he’s good at this.

At least he’s good at this.

He kills the first person to question an order.

They don’t question him again.

Everything runs smoother when they don’t question him.

It’s easier this way.

It’s always easier.

——

He’s traveling again. Spending more hours sleeping in hotels and safe houses than any bed he might deign to call his.

More and more time goes by, bit by bit, hour by hour, each filling his body with sand like setting concrete.

Slowly, Danyal feels it begin to wear on him. The exhaustion of the missions, his own body weighing him down with every strike he takes. Refusing to react with the speed demanded of him to succeed.

Danyal pushes past it. It doesn’t matter. This is his duty, it is all that is expected of him and he will do it. Even as he finds himself clutching his chest in the dark of a mission, blood still leaking from his target below him.

He forces himself past it, eyes flickering, steeling himself, then wiping down his blade and leaving, muscles tense and bones shaking.

He makes it as far as the car waiting in the near abandoned parking garage below, his chest continuing to tighten, heart erratic beneath his ribs. Danyal grunts, pain lacing up his arm, struggling not to stumble as he staggers into his seat with a near gasping breath.

He pulls himself together, his words as confident as he can make them as he speaks to the assassin in the drivers seat, “Call Ra’s Al Ghul. Bring me to him. Now.”

Danny feels his heart twitch in his chest, his hand flickering in his vision, or is it his vision that’s flickering, he can’t tell, still the cold leather soothes him, heart pounding louder louder, yelling, screaming in his ears, angry so angry so angry, rage rage rage, fix it fix it fight fight fight for us fight! Don’t let it go, never let it go, revenge, make them pay, they have to pay-!

He comes back with a gasp and a burst of pain across his shoulder, adrenaline and fury still coursing through his veins in equal measure.

His hair is wet, green liquid dripping down his face in sluggish trails mixed with foreign blood. It lays plastered on the curves of his face, framing his eyes as he stares up at the Demon’s Head.

The same malicious smile sits on his face, “Welcome back, Danyal.” The words are tinged with expectance.

Danyal pauses, collected his words around his tongue like a lead weight in his dry mouth, “I- Why was I put in the Lazarus pit again?” Danyal can only hope he’s showing the right amount of deference to even be allowed such a question.

“You were brought to me collapsed, and your heart failing you. The Lazarus pits provided a temporary solution,” Ra’s says, his eyes sharp, “But it is temporary. This problem will not be allowed to continue.”

“Of course, Master,” Danyal pulls himself to his knees, “…I believe it’s because of my accident-“ Danyal pauses, this is closest he’s come to actually telling them how he got his powers, what it did to him-, “There was electricity, and the shock, my heart was-is damaged. I don’t know why it’s getting worse-“

Ra’s hums, “The body can be fixed, child. The mind cannot. This,” Ra’s places a hand on his back as Danyal stands, “is merely an obstacle to our goal.”

“I will not fail you, Grandfather.”

“I know, child.” His words are a guarantee, an assurance to Danyal.

He will prove that the confidence placed in him is not mistaken.

——

It is barely months after that second time that Danyal once again feels his body’s failings encroach on him.

His heart beats off pattern, falling out of rhythm more with every passing day.

Danyal takes a deep breath, willing it to calm himself.

He will not let this stop him. He is an Al Ghul. He is capable. He is strong, and he will not be held back by his own body.

Danyal turns his focus inwards, ripples traveling along the surface of the ectoplasm in his core he’s left untouched for so long now.

He lets the ectoplasm submerge him, turning his form ghostly, his eyes sharper green than they’ve ever been before.

Danyal lets his feet lift off the ground, just for a second, weightlessness enveloping him, the buzzing of the world a background in his ears.

Then his toes touch the ground again and Danyal snaps into movement towards his closet. He puts on his usual league clothes over the old hazmat suit, feeling the layers lighten as he covers them up. Until it feels as though he’s only wearing the league clothes, and his white gloves stare in his face.

Slowly, he removes them, staring for too long at the green lines like cracks trailing up his arm.

Danyal turns away.

He has work to do, he can’t let himself be held up with small feelings like that.

As Danyal travels the halls, every step an effort to remain flat on the ground, he feels the ectoplasm within him roil, coursing faster and stronger than he ever had before, even in the Ghost Zone or in A-.

It revitalizes him and Danyal arrives to Ra’s Al Ghul’s training with bold confidence filling him.

Ra’s greets him an enigmatic smile and a challenge of his strength.

Danyal meets him kind, dodging every lunging, swiping every parry, light on his feet like he hasn’t been in years now.

Their fight lasts longer than any other they’ve had, his muscles able to hold up stronger in this form, his stamina infinite as the ectoplasm he draws from without any need for breathing or rest.

Ra’s Al Ghul is impressed even as he holds Danyal beneath his boot, his sword pressed to his neck.

Glowing green sluggishly leaks from the scratch.

Danyal pays it no mind.

Instead he stares at the small cut on the crown of Ra’s’ head, a single crimson red droplet crawling down the side of his face.

Danyal did not win. But he didn’t loose either.

Satisfaction fills him in a rush, carrying him through even as they reengage.

——

Danyal strives to reach his goals, to hit every target set out for him, beat every opponent put against him, to reach the expectations and the potential that the Demon’s head sees him.

To make himself worthy to be here, to stay.

And he knows his weaknesses hold him back, make him vulnerable, put everything-one- in danger.

So he stops being vulnerable. Stops letting his body, his weaknesses, dictate his capabilities.

Faster and faster his store of ectoplasm drains within him.

And Danyal makes himself stronger and stronger, short exposures of the Lazarus pits to keep it from stopping him.

He can’t stop.

So he keeps going, keeps training, fighting, growing- when had he gotten tall? When had he gotten older?

He keeps working, to be better, to be the best.

And as he approaches the Demon’s chambers weeks later, he is surprised to hear yelling.

More than that, he is surprised to hear Talia’s voice be the one yelling.

He pauses outside the door, eyes narrowed and body resting on the edge of invisibility.

He does not want to know the punishment for eavesdropping, nor for interrupting them… and yet…he hasn’t spoken to Talia, not truly, not since she told him the Batman was dead. Barely seen her except beside the demons’s head in ceremony as he stands at the edges of a room.

It has been entirely too reminiscent of his childhood.

Danyal’s ears prick up as the volume increases once more.

“You cannot ask me to bring him back to use him for-!”

“I do not ask for anything, Daughter! He belongs to the League! And the League to me! It was a mistake to allow you to keep-“

Ra’s’ voice drops too low to be heard through the door, muffling the rest of his words.

Danyal steps back from the door, standing in the hall with questions blooming in multitude.

Moments later, Talia Al Ghul steps through, a force of fury in every step. She catches sight of him immediately, and when Danyal makes eye contact, her eyes are filled with worry, stress, regret, a thousand what-ifs and plans and concerns.

Somehow he knows none of it is for him.

He bows slightly, and she passes by him without a word.

Danyal watches her hair flow as she retreats further and further down the hall until he finally turns around to enter the room.

Ra’s Al Ghul is waiting for him.

He gives no indication that he knows Danyal heard him, so Danyal doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t make the mistake of thinking that means Ra’s doesn’t know.

He always knows.

His training continues.

For days, and weeks, and months more, he continues.

But even a ghost cannot lie to himself forever.

——

When Damian wakes up with chains around his wrists and the familiar feeling of harsh metal beneath his knees, he is not surprised to see his mother standing in front of him.

He wishes it were only his mother.

Instead, his grandfather stands in front of him as well, eyes staring down at him with impassive judgement. Damian feels his spine straighten against his will, the feeling of ‘never good enough’ creeping through his limbs.

He glances at his mother behind Grandfather’s looming form. Her face is uncharacteristically open, the barest hint of tension evident in her jaw, her eyes almost brighter with the concern hidden behind them.

Damian forces his eyes away as Grandfather begins to speak.

“You’ve wasted your time with your father Damian,” he starts, “Letting your training go to waste as the league continues to work to better the world.”

Damian wants to sneer, a scowl forming on his face, “The league does nothing but hurt innocent people. My time as Robin has saved hundreds.”

Grandfather’s eyes sharpen, “And I see it has taken your discipline as well.”

Damian grinds his teeth, “Anything I have learned, I learned from my Father and my family,”

“Your family?” Grandfather says, his tone almost mocking as he raises an eyebrow, “You are an Al Ghul-“

“I am a Wayne too!” Damian says, straining as he rises to his feet, “I am Damian Al Ghul-Wayne! Just as you wanted me to be! And it is my choice to be a hero, to be Robin, and I stand next to Father and the others with pride!”

Grandfather’s glare intensifies, “Do not interrupt me again, Damian. You will not be exempt of the consequences.”

Damian stares him down, fear pressing against his insides with a scream too familiar to his youth.

He turns away with a click of his tongue.

Shame whispers at his cheeks.

Grandfather waves a hand blithely as he turns his back, “Bring him.” He pauses at the door, “He remains bound.”

Damian watches his Grandfather leave, his eyes drifting sideways to his mother.

“Mother, why am I here?” He demands, tone sharp and clear. He tries not to let show how lost he is.

Mother steps forward, laying a gentle hand on his face and the other at the crook of his neck, cupping his cheek as her eyes soften. Regret sits behind them.

“Mother.” He says again, pulling slightly away from her hand, “Why am I here?”

She sighs, stepping back, “The Demon’s Head has need of you.”

Then he watches her leave as well, and Damian finds his arms and hands grabbed as assassins unchain him and push him forward.

He reluctantly lets them lead him through the unfamiliar halls of wherever they are, just a few paces behind his mother.

They stop in front of an open doorway, and when Damian is dragged in front, the sight he is met with brings confusion over anything else.

In front of him is a young man, no older than Todd or even Drake, laying asleep in a hospital bed with a heart monitor attached to him.

The beeping that fills the room is shallow and unsteady, much like the boy’s breathing. His hair is dark with speckled streaks of grey and a natural paleness in his skin.

Worse than that is the IV Damian can see tucked into the crook of his arm, tube trailing up to a bag.

Slowly feeding Lazarus water into his veins.

Damian whips his head around to look at his mother, only to find her staring disdainfully at the boy in the bed.

It only serves to confuse Damian more.

What had this man done to cause his mother such ire?

“Take the sample.” His Grandfather’s voice commands. And Damian feels the arms holding him shift to a more secure grip, pulling him to his knees even as he fights them. A man in a white coat approaches him, and Damian fights harder when he notices the syringe in his hand.

The sting of the needle is dull against the fear crashing through him as his grandfather watches.

His mother looks away.

Finally, Damian jerks as the hands he now knows are Ubu’s release him, still hovering close as he is dropped. He is surprised to see that they actually took blood, rather than dosing him with something. Sedative or worse.

Damian scowls at his grandfather, but he simply looks unconcerned as the assumed doctor moves forward to take a second sample, this time from the boy laying in the bed.

“Why am I here, Grandfather?” He asks, eyeing all parties critically.

“Haven’t you realized, Damian?” His Grandfather asks with a mockingly raised eyebrow, “His heart is failing, and the Lazarus waters can only fix so much by the nature of his defects. Your brother needs you, Damian,” Grandfather says, voice serene, “And you are going to help him.”

Damian barely has a moment to process his words before the hands are pulling him back once more, he yanks his arms from their grip, “Grandfather! What are you- let me go!” Damian turns fully to incapacitate the assassins, only to have Ubu pull his binds harshly sideways and give the servants leverage enough to actually tame his movements.

“Who is he?! Mother!” Damian turns to her, unsurprised to see her turning a blind eye once again, “Mother who is he!? What is Grandfather talking about?! What are you doing!?” The assassins pull at him again, successful in getting him through the doorway as he struggles.

Just before the door closes, he hears the Doctor speak to his grandfather, and his response.

“The boy is a match Great One.”

“Good, prepare Danyal for surgery. As soon as possible.”

The surprise is enough that the door closes in his face and he is dragged back through the hallways.

He stands as much as he can, walking at pace, refusing to allow them to disrespect him by letting them drag him.

He glares at Ubu as he shuts the door of his cell between them.

Once he knows he is alone, Damian takes a better register of his situation. He is still in his Robin uniform, so that means he was out with the family- he has a brother- they’ll be looking for him. He believes he’s on a boat, the rocking, the design of the doors and walls- a brother!- he has to make sure he can be found. Grandfather has plans for him-why tell him now- he doesn’t seem to be listening to Mother’s decisions- his brother’s name is Danyal- he might be in danger-they both could- how is he going to get out-

Damian stops.

He readjusts his clothing, feeling the minute shift once more. There’s something between the collar of his suit.

Slowly, Damian runs his hand along the fabric, finding a small bump he recognizes as a tracker.

One of his own bat made trackers. But how..?

Mother.

Damian scoffs to himself. Of course, he should have known she would never show such an obvious display of affection without reason. She was still largely loyal to Grandfather, but Damian was not so naïve as to think she did not care for him at all.

The vibration of the tracker is rhythmic beneath his fingers, the only solace he gets.

His family is coming.

He knows it.

He just hopes it’s fast enough.

——

Perhaps Grandfather’s first mistake was taking him as Robin, when his family was always the most on edge, the most prepared, the most connected.

Or perhaps his first mistake was training Bruce Wayne in the first place.

Either way, Damian watches from the other side of an observation window as his Grandfather and Father engage in a fight racked with fury on both ends.

Richard jostles him, bringing his attention back into focus.

Right.

His newest brother.

He mumbles an explanation to them, words slurred as they leave his mouth. But he knows they heard him. The shock-caution-suspicion painted across their faces could mean nothing else.

Perhaps his Father was under a curse. Surely there was a limit to how many unknown children one person could have in a single lifetime?

All the same, once freed, he moves to help Drake and Richard remove the boy-brother, Danyal- from the operation table next to him, stepping over the doctors knocked unconscious at their feet.

Reluctantly, he allows Drake to support him under one arm, the anesthesia still weighing down his eyelids.

They rush through the halls like a bull, both him and Drake separating to fight off more than one assassin. Even Richard has to set down Danyal to join the fight at least once.

But finally, they make it to the Batplane idling next to the hull.

The moment they are onboard, the plane starts to move away, but his Father is still on board.

Still fighting with Grandfather as they burst through the doors, fists and weapons engaged in equal measure.

Father dodges sideways, blocking hits until he reaches the rails, then he jumps over without hesitation. And just as Damian is about to shout for him, arm reaching out futilely, Richard blows past him.

He is leaping out of the open cargo door with just as much surety as his father leapt, a cord tied around him, and with perfect precision, he watches Richard catch his father at the extension of his swing.

It’s a perfect demonstration of their partnership.

And Grandfather is left scowling out at them from the ship.

His mother stands alone and calm on the upper deck, watching.

Damian turns his attention to his family.

And to Danyal with them.

——

Returning to the cave is less of an affair than Damian may have expected from such a mission.

His father is-has been- silent for most of the flight, staring at the body of Danyal with blank eyes.

Even Drake and Richard conspicuously cast a glance back every few minutes. Damian controls himself from doing the same. He is not so undisciplined as to be as obvious.

Still, the tension only rises the longer Danyal continues to remain asleep. Even by the time Damian feels the last of the anesthesia leave his own system, Danyal is unchanged.

Damian is certain his grandfather would not choose someone so sickly to be his heir, someone so incapable of protecting themselves in this state. Surely there was a reason he was kept, a reason he was allowed this weakness when Damian was-

Regardless, Damian didn’t trust it. The others could get pulled into this invader’s lies all they wanted, Damian would be there to stop him, he was sure of it.

Still, he watches Pennyworth dote over him in the medbay, Father laying him down on a medical bed with harried care, removing his cowl with barely a thought.

Damian ground his teeth, did they not understand that this was an operative trained by his Grandfather? An assassin with no attachment to them that was favored enough by Grandfather to warrant Damian being-

Damian turned to his locker, glad to replace his weapons stores and feel the weight of his sword at his side once more. It would be a pain, but he would have to find a way to receive a package from his mother if he wanted his other sword back.

It was merely a replica of one of his betters but the desire remained.

He watched from the corner of his eye as the family began to gather in front of the Batcomputer, the screen’s light casting shadows on them even in the artificial cave lighting. Finally, they were going to be doing something.

Damian approached, lingering at the edge where he could still see through the curtains of the medbay.

“I’m not the only one who noticed a suspicious lack of life threatening wounds right?” Drake began, turned away from the console with one hand still on the keys, “I mean, there was that first surgery cut, but that was the same as on Damian. It certainly wasn’t enough to necessitate Lazarus water being entered directly into this kid’s bloodstream.”

Damian scowled, “He was like that before they attempted this. Grandfather said that there was something wrong with… Danyal’s heart, said that I would be able to fix it.”

Father cast another brief look at the medbay, Pennyworth’s shadow still moving within. “I’ll have Agent A call Leslie. Robin,” he turned towards Damian, “Did Talia or Ra’s mention anything else to you? Where .. he’s been this whole time?..Why you didn’t know of his existence?”

Damian shook his head, “No, only that he was my brother and that the pit water was being used to fix him somehow. That I was needed to save him.”

Father hums, turning back with pensive silence.

“B, we don’t even know how long this kid’s been there, he’s older than Damian,” Richard pleads. And it makes Damian duck his head with clenched fists. Who was he? Why was he so much more favored by Grandfather?

Why had they told him he was the firstborn of mother? Of father?

“He could always be a clone with advanced aging, we know Talia is capable of it, she’s done it before,” Drake adds. But the theory sits uncomfortably with all of them. Something just not quite right.

“But then why did they need Damian?” Richard says back.

Father grunts.

“Is it really…” Richard starts, “I mean, we have to consider that she actually kept it secret again. Even from Damian.”

“But B wasn’t even with Talia before that, Damian was the first time they… y’know.” Drake says, a grimace on his face at the end.

Father hums, “But I’d fought Talia before. And I had trained with Ra’s.”

“All it would have taken is one DNA sample, right.” Richard says with a sigh, carding his fingers through his hair, “Well, we might as well-“

There’s a slight clatter on the medbay level, silencing everyone as their heads snap to the sound.

When nothing follows, Father motions them all to head up, flanking the room.

Damian is the closest, entering first. No sooner does he notice Pennyworth laying on the floor before he feels a hand slip around his neck and another quickly snatch the sword at his side. Within seconds, Damian feels his back pressed against another body, the cold steel of his own sword stinging at his neck as he stares into his Father’s eyes.

Except his father is not looking at him, he’s looking at the person holding him.

Danyal.

“Where am I!? Who are you!?” The voice behind him demands, the vibration buzzing against him with the familiar staccato of Damian’s native league dialect.

His family shares a weighted look, clearly hesitant to say anything. Already Damian can see the way their fingers twitch towards weapons and utility belts.

The steel at his neck tightens, “Tell me now or I slit his neck and deliver your bodies to the Demon’s Head myself.”

Father’s stance tightens, anger pulling at his gloves even as he forces himself to put his hands up in surrender. When he answers, it is in the League dialect, “We’re not a danger to you, Danyal,” the blade doesn’t so much as twitch, “Put down the swor-“

Stephanie Brown’s voice rings out across the cave, “Hey, Kate and I just finished patrol and-“

Damian doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the sentence because the moment Brown starts speaking, his assailant’s group loosens just a bit, accompanied by a low, broken whisper of, “English?…”

Damian immediately jabs the flat of his arm up, putting the blade farther from his neck as he begins to grapple with him.

In the blur of movement, Damian sees his sword coming at him, throwing his body back with a barely a second to spare, feeling the supporting hand of Richard on his back as he joins their combined front.

Danyal now stands alone in front of them, stolen sword extended in warning.

And now that Damian can see his face, he knows why his family was hesitant… Danyal’s eyes flicker a bright Lazarus green.

“What do you want from me? Why am I here?” he demands once again.

His Father steps up, “I don’t know how much know about me: my name is Bruce Wayne,” There’s barely even a flicker of recognition, “But you might know me better as Batman.”

The eyes widen, eyes scanning them with fervor before narrowing with suspicion and denial, “The Batman is dead, the Demon’s Daughter told me so herself.”

Drake steps forward, “She was wrong. He came back-“

Damian rolls his eyes, “Clearly Mother must have told you. Do not be stupid.”

Danyal’s brow furrows, silently mouthing the word ‘mother’ beneath his breath.

“I don’t-“ He cuts himself off with a grimace, hands tightening on the shaft of the sword, “I don’t believe you, what-“

“What happened? Did we bring back the demon spawn, why are you all-“ Brown bursts into the room, words already filling the air. Only to stop when she sees Danyal.

He raises the sword at them again, noticeably less stable as he supports it with two hands, “Who are you!? Why am I here!? Tell me-“ He grunts again, putting a hand to his chest, “Tell me, now! I-“ the sword drops, Danyal using it to support himself like a cane. Father steps forward, hands extended. It only serves to make Danyal lift his head to glare at him.

“Stay back-“

“We’re only trying to help-“

“I said-“ Danyal grunts, hand clenching at his shirt as he drops to his knees, “Stay- Stay back- I’m-“

The sword falls from his hands with a metallic clatter on the stony ground, Danyal gasping for breath.

“Back- off..” He whispers, the English falling from his lips with desperation as he curls in on himself.

Father rushes forward the moment Danyal’s body goes limp, lifting him onto the medical bed as the room bursts into motion. Richard is grabbing medical equipment as Drake helps father with providing CPR as Brown moves to get Alfred, all of them quick to jump to action.

Damian slowly steps forward, picking up his abandoned sword from the floor.

He turns it over in his hands, making sure it is unharmed from the ordeal even as he watches his family rush to help each other.

Just what had Grandfather been doing to Danyal?

[zaynesaurora]

ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to dry humping — (MDNI)

a/n: yowhza this made me have to get up and walk a lap, i struggled with caleb so hes demoted to bonus boy again srwy bout that :(theres a new bonus boy though,, i may have been swayed by recent events.

zayne ! sets a lazy pace, almost lack luster as he perches you on top of him in the confindes of his office during a particularly quiet dinner break- big hands tucked under the hem of your shirt so he can tickle at your skin until it begins to burn from the delicate friction, a skilled tongue dipping into your mouth in the same less than hurried attitude his hands are showing.

he would stop your hands as they journey towards the zip hiding his hardening self from you, cool fingers engulfing your own as he forces you to hold on to his belt buckle for the remainder of your ride.

"too risky my dear, im on the clock"

he cant silence the squeaks of his desk chair as he meets his end. leather groaning in effort when his hips chase you into the air above, eyes rolling to the base of his skull in the most beautiful display of bliss. he buttons his lab coat up before leaving his office. stains of your love hidden behind the stark white.

xavier ! always wears light coloured briefs incase his moment arises, loving the way the material becomes sheer as he leaks with excitement- load after load decorating the cotton in puddles as he ruts into you.

"hmph- so messy" he's babbling in your ear between heavy puffs of air from his nostrils.

xavier likes it when you play hard to get in this particular scenario. when your belly down on the bed, scrolling your phone and barely taking any notice of his manhood smoothing over the hills of your backside. he gets lost in his own fantasy- perverted nature making itself known in the way he wraps his body around you, hands tucking below your chest and thighs squeezing your own into a tight line. he keeps going, going until he can barely hold himself up and his weight becomes invasive when he's lay on your back in exhaustion.

when he eventually pulls away, a stringy mess connects the pair of you, another outfit christened by a make out session gone too far.

rafayel ! thinks he has control of every sexual situation ever. outright laughs in your face as he mocks your whimpers- deliberately pulling his hand away from the delicate lace covering you just as the warmth in your belly makes itself known. his teeth are bumping yours with every taunt, chests squishing with every snicker. until you grab him through his boxers, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"hmm scandalous, naugh-" words caught in his throat when you tug him harder than before.

its no secret rafayel is competative , and usually sulky when you try to overpower him but he can't help but give in when you everwhelm his senses in so many ways- need for release growing with every passing moment. he's certainly well behaved when you form an o-shape with your fist, instructing him to use your hand like a toy through his pants. pretty noises being rewarded with a quick tightening.

— bonus —

caleb ! does that thing boyfriends do when they pretend to be hitting it from behind when you bend over for any reason, except this time his make believe thrusts get a little too close and before you know it he has his palm flat to your back , pushing you into the countertop so he can keep you in place and indulge in the feeling of his loose sweats rubbing on his bare junk- lucky for him he's known for being commando in the comfort of his own home and the material is swallowing his tip in a way that feels so right.

"thats it baby, jus- a little more"

jeremiah ! blooms into a mix of pinks and reds as the colour works its way up his chest and into his cheeks- timidly meeting your eyes before snapping them shut in avoidance. you can hear the unsteady rythm in his ribs, you can see the resolve slipping in the vice like grip he has on the sheets he's sprawled on- if they were living he would be drawing blood by now and his hips spring forward everytime your underwear meets his. even when the pressures almost none existent.

"calm down sweetheart, you can do it"

[nanamiluvs]

nanami nsfw alphabet !

hi! made a new acc bc i love nanami kento sm i wanna put him in my pocket <3

pairing : nanami kento x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 2.1k

warnings: smut content, reader is afab but no pronouns used, nanami being a sweetheart, aftercare, overstimulation, breeding, nanami is gentle and rough at the same time, creampies, praising, literally so much praising, teasing, begging, size kink!!, slight bondage, slight belly bulge, mentions of pregnancy, pussydrunk!nanami, oral (both receiving), jealousy, implied possessive sex, nanami is so in love with you it's unbelievable

a : aftercare

nanami makes sure you have everything you need by your side, be it getting you a cup of water or him hugging you to sleep. he will clean you up gently, asking if you're alright or if he can help in any way. he will hug you and tell you how well you did, how much he loves you and how lucky he is to have you by his side.

b : body part

nanami has never really thought about it before, but he really likes his thighs and how they look in his formal dress pants. he also likes the way the muscles flex when you grind yourself on it, leaking slick down his thigh, chasing your release. for you, he can never choose a single part because of how much he adores you, in his eyes, every part of you is perfect beyond reach.

c : cum

nanami won't ever try to come inside you or your mouth unless you ask him to for the first time. it feels so intimate to him, how you're willing to swallow his cum or have it fill you up. absolutely a man who loves cumming inside simply because of how precious it is to him, being with you like this. his cum has an off-white color, thicker in density. he cums a lot.

d : dirty secret

nanami is a gentleman. nanami places a hand on the small of your back to guide you, he pulls your chair for you to sit, pays for your dates. he loves you, adores you, cherishes you so much that he holds you like you were made of glass. having sex with nanami is no exception to this, as the man is the most gentle lover you can find even as he pushes his thick cock inside, trying to make it fit while making it as less painful as possible. yet, sometimes, he can't help but have the desire to go rough on you, especially on the days he gets too stressed from work. he wants to let go and fuck you relentlessly, a break from how he usually likes things to go. he thinks low of himself for even having the desire to do such thing, how could he do that to you? so when you go and tell him how you want him to be rough, beg him to use you- he can't help how his cock twitches at the thought.

e : experience

nanami thinks of sex as a very intimate act. he's had only a handful of partners before, not as experienced as you think he'd be because of how skilled he is at it. the fact is, he wants to impress you, wants to pleasure you so bad to the point he researches everything beforehand. he may not be very experienced, but nanami is a quick learner when he wants to be one.

f : favorite position

nanami doesn't mind as long as he can see your face. he wants to be as close to you as possible. he's also a classical man, so sex with nanami is usually done in missionary or a mating press. he likes kissing you through it, whispering in your ear, telling you how much he loves you as his hips meet your pelvis. he wants to hug you as he pushes in deeper, wants to feel your arms wrap around his neck, nails scratching his back to hold on for leverage.

g : goofy

nanami, as i said before, thinks sex is very intimate so he acts the part. usually, he's very calm and loving, but the rare times he's stressed or angry he gets quite serious. in his normal state, he can't help but smile at your words.

h : hair

nanami is a well-groomed man, because he prefers to see himself like that and because he thinks you'd prefer it like that. it really doesn't matter to him if you have hair down there or not, he simply thinks you're too beautiful for him.

i : intimacy

nanami, for the third time, is the most intimate man in existence when it comes to sex. he's so romantic, whispering how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, how well you are taking him, how he would do anything for you. nanami is a man who worships the ground you walk on.

j : jack off

nanami, at his age, doesn't really masturbate since it's unnecessary for him. he's already too busy with work, and when he's not, he has you. for you, he won't ever control you but he would prefer pleasuring you himself instead of you doing it own your own. he sees it as his duty.

k : kink

nanami doesn't think he's the type to have many kinks, or any for that matter. yet with you, he discovers parts of himself he didn't even know was there.

‎ ‎ ‎ bondage : nanami didn't think that tying your hands up with his tie would get him so aroused. he can't help but want to see you, naked with your hands tied or eyes blindfolded with his tie while he had only taken that piece of fabric off. he thinks you're just so adorable.

‎ ‎ ‎ breeding : it's no surprise to him that nanami wants to start a family with you, to have a baby. but when he cums inside you for the first time, something in his gut clicks, and he's scared that he might get addicted to the feeling. it's so endearing, you trusting him, loving him to the point you'll let him to do this, to the point you want him to do this. he wants you so badly, so the thought that you might also want him even a little bit as much as he wants you drives him to tears. that is, on the emotional level. on the physical level, this man will go fucking crazy over the thought of filling you up with his cum, over and over until he sees your belly bulge, until he knows you're pregnant. he fucks his cum back into you, telling you what a waste it is, spilling out when they could be filling your tummy so nicely. nanami is feral about breeding you.

‎ ‎ ‎ overstimulation : nanami adores how you break down on his fingers, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, telling you how you can give him "one more". he loves the fact that he's the one who has you all messed up like this, whining from overstimulation as he bullies his thick fingers into you. you're on his lap and he's whispering sweet nothings into your ear while sending you to hell and back.

‎ ‎ ‎ size : nanami is a large man. larger than most of his peers, tall with a muscular build. what he won't ever tell you is that how much he cherishes you being smaller than him. he gets this sense of pride from the fact, being able to wrap you up in his embrace or how you tell him he's just too big. he puts his much larger hand on top of yours as he fucks you, pressing down with the force of his thrusts. he loves how you accomodate to his size.

l : location

nanami prefers to do it on the bed, but if it's inside the house, anywhere you want will be okay with him. also likes doing it in the shower, but is scared that you might think it's weird, so he waits for you to approach the idea first.

m : motivation

nanami can't help but get hard when you try to seduce him or flirt with him, or even imply that you want him. the idea that you want him is still so foreign to him, how could someone like you even think of desiring him? nanami is very respectful, he won't approach you with the want to have sex until you teach him it's okay to do so. and then, don't be surprised that he turns out a lot more needy of being one with you than he seemed to be before.

n : no

nanami would die rather than to hurt you, so anything involving serious harm to you is off the table with him. he's also very strict with the idea of public sex, as he thinks sex should take place in intimate areas like your home.

o : oral

nanami gets pussydrunk so easily that it's almost funny. he prefers little to nothing than to go down on you, to have the smell of your arousal, the taste of your slick intoxicate him. he loves it when you come on his face, grab his hair and tell him it's too much. he may as well be a magician by the way he uses his tongue, curling and reaching so deep than coming up to suck your clit with a groan. he fucking grunts while eating you out, his hips keep grinding against the bed because of how much it turns him on to have you pressed on his face like this. nanami eats pussy like a starved man, nanami eats you for his pleasure. your moans and whines make him even more desperate to make you finish and finish all over again until you can't. he would also love being on the receiving side, being pleased by a being as perfect as you, but what pleases him the most is your own pleasure.

p : pace

nanami has a mostly sensual and normal pace when it comes to sex, often involving loving words whispered in your ear and hands caressing your body with his adoring touch. when he gets closer to his own high, his pace quickens and he starts slamming into you like it's the last thing he's going to do before stilling inside and crashing over the edge. when he's being rough, his pace doesn't even give you time to breathe, leaving you panting and whining in his ears while grabbing onto his shoulders for life.

q : quickie

nanami doesn't like quickies, except maybe in the mornings before work. he would much rather have his time with you, to shower you in his love and pleasure you the best he can.

r : risk

nanami will try most things you want to do if you ask him enough times. as for his own curiosity, he's most probably going to hide any new idea he wants to try until, again, he learns it's okay to do so.

s : stamina

nanami can go for as long as you want him to go, but he doesn't like cumming more than two or three times. when it comes to you, though, he wants you to have as many orgasms as you possibly can because of him.

t : toys

nanami is pretty vanilla when it comes to toys, but he may use them if you really want to do so.

u : unfair

nanami may not seem like it but the man is a lowkey tease. he acts oblivious to your advances, wanting you to openly say you want him to fuck you. you're telling him to put it in already and he says how you're not ready yet and dives back with his tongue, overstimulation being one of his biggest turn ons. you ask him to go faster yet he's pulling himself in and out so slowly it drives you insane. he adores how easily you get teased, and does it more out of love than anything else.

v : volume

nanami usually doesn't make any sounds except for his words during sex. surprisingly, he talks a lot during it, he just can't stop mentioning how beautiful you are today while pushing it in. when he's being rough, he's a grunter, can't help himself with how much it's pleasuring him. he only gets moaning during being on the receiving side of oral or getting a handjob, he feels so loved and the low moans he gets out are so pleasing to hear.

w : wild card

nanami secretly likes it when you tease him or make him jealous, flirting with other men at a gathering of some sorts. he knows you do it on purpose, that you just want him to put you back in your place- he's more than happy to do so. ıt gives him a reason to fuck, not make love, and he knows that's your goal all along. you can just ask him to do so, but where's the fun in that when he's not angry even a little bit?

x : x-ray

nanami has a pretty dick to no one's surprise. he stands long with little to no curvature, above than average thickness but not to the point it hurts. though, it's always a tight fit- something nanami won't admit he likes. the shaft is slightly darker than his normal skin tone, and the mushroom tip stands in rosy shades. tell him how beautiful he looks and he's so hard.

y : yearning

nanami doesn't really have a guttural desire for sex, rather, it's you who makes him want it. he can go for a long time without having sex but that doesn't mean he doesn't like being on top of you and pushing inside you. his sex drive only spikes when you rile him on, showing off a new lingerie or a tight dress, grinding against him to show you how much you want him. he doesn't want you to think he only wants you for sex so he feels bad that he gets turned on to you at random times, it's the opposite, he wants you so much to the point he wants to have sex with you.

z : zzz

nanami is not necessarily sleepy after sex, but he just loves cuddling you and listening to you snoring after an act so intimate. he will press kisses on your cheeks, neck, shoulders until you fall asleep, wanting you to have the best sleep and the nicest dreams.

anyway bye i love nanami

[cosmicanakin]

more than just an interview.

pairing. hayden christensen x female reader.

outline. your nerves are everywhere for your first big interview with hayden christensen himself, but things take an exciting turn when he asks for your number.

contains. fluff, reader being a fan girl, tattoos mentioned, workplace romance, anxiety nerves.

authors note. i've only ever written for hayden's characters but never for him :( so here's a little hayden fic!

your heart races as you smooth down your skirt for what feels like the hundredth time, nerves wracking your body while pacing the length of the small room. today marked your first big interview covering the much anticipated release of ahsoka, and the lucky subject chosen was none other than hayden christensen himself.

ever since the prequels first captured your imagination as a young teen, you've harbored a hopeless crush on the actor behind anakin skywalker. his smoldering screen presence and talent at bringing such depth to a complex character left you wholly enamored, fueling artistic pursuits like drawing and even getting a tattoo tribute on your 18th birthday.

glancing down at the familiar lines inked below your left wrist, fingers tracing over them brought both comfort and fresh butterflies. would hayden appreciate the sentiment behind such a permanent mark of fandom, or find it odd and off-putting? you couldn't decide which terrified you more in that moment, the impending interview or potentially showing him such an intimate secret.

before anxiety could mount further, a light knock sounded at the door. "they're ready for you y/n." with a final calming breath you nodded, steeling nerves as best able while trailing your guide down bustling halls. rounds of cameras and crew zipped to and fro in organized chaos, only serving to heighten your jittery state.

entering the room, bright lights and microphones came into view alongside your subject for the day. hayden sat relaxed in an armchair, striking features gently illuminated while conversing easily with staff. at your approach he glanced up, meeting your eyes with a warm smile that set butterflies aflutter once more.

"hayden, this is y/n l/n, she'll be conducting your interview today. make yourselves comfortable and we'll begin filming in 5." with that your guide slipped away, leaving you alone under his keen gaze that seemed to assess every minute detail.

stumbling through introductions you both settled into adjacent seats, closing the small distance between as a PA adjusted lighting and levels. "it's truly an honor hayden, i've been a huge fan of your work for so long. thank you for taking the time today."

he graced you with another genuous smile feeling heat rush your cheeks. "the pleasure is all mine y/n, i'm always happy to chat with fellow star wars enthusiasts."

you then launched into prepared questions relying heavily on note cards to steady shaking hands. hayden spoke eloquently of the joys in revisiting ahsoka and anakin's dynamic through animation, the creative challenges of lending voice without physical presence, as well as hints of where future stories may lead the beloved character.

absorbed in the discussion, you almost missed the lull signaling a natural break between topics. glancing down to reorder cards, hayden's eyes caught a glimpse of your inked tribute.

"is that...?" trailing off inquisitively, his gaze held yours in silent permission to explain. heart thundering in your ribs, you extended your arm stiffly for closer inspection with a sheepish smile.

"oh yeah, it's a little silly. but i got this on my 18th birthday as a sort of tribute to anakin. he's my favorite character in star wars thanks to you." chuckling nervously, you shrugged awaiting judgment on such a bold permanent choice.

instead, hayden gently cradled your wrist to examine lines tracing each curve with a focus that sent shivers through your veins. his thumb rubbed absent circles causing thoughts to short circuit, breath hitching slightly at the contact.

"not silly at all, i'm truly flattered. it's not often i come across such devoted fans, let alone marks of appreciation so meaningful. thank you for sharing this with me, it will certainly remain a treasured memory."

releasing your now flaming skin, hayden graced you with a look loaded with warmth that threatened composure. frantically you shifted topics back to the interview, desperate to regain threads of coherency spinning out of control under his gaze. thankfully he indulged without further comment, captivating the audience once more.

all too soon your allotted time came to an end, both of you graciously thanking one another while crew prepped for the next guest. hayden bid farewell with a lingering handshake, flashing one last smile that left you lightheaded long after exiting the stage.

leaning against the nearest wall, you attempted to regulate your breathing and pounding heart. had you truly just conducted that interview, seen that sweet genuine reaction to a silly fangirl choice that meant the world? pinching yourself proved no dreams, only solid reality awaiting further processing back at home with friends.

giddiness prevented focus for the remainder of promotional rounds, drifting through subsequent interviews on autopilot buzzing with endorphins. by late afternoon you found solace beside a refreshments table, quietly replaying treasured memories while nibbling on a giant cookie.

"y/n!" whirling at the call of your name, disbelief flooded as none other than hayden christensen hurriedly approached with a beaming smile. had he mistaken you for another, or somehow recalled you despite a packed schedule? politeness held your tongue awaiting clarification.

"i'm glad i caught you before leaving, this day has been a whirlwind. i hope i'm not being too forward, but i was wondering if i could maybe take you out for a drink sometime? get to know one another outside of work and such. only if you're interested of course."

heart ceased functioning at the implication, mind reeling to comprehend such an opportunity unfolding before your very eyes. hayden christensen, long-time crush and the subject of your teenage fantasies, was genuinely interested in you beyond surface-level small talk of the press circuit.

"i-i would love that hayden. um just give me a second," you said fumbling for your phone with shaky hands, exchanging numbers felt surreal akin to glimpsing behind intricate hollywood veils so seldom witnessed up close.

"wonderful, it's a date then. i'll text you later this week to discuss plans further. see you then y/n, take care." with a final radiant smile hayden turned on his heel, disappearing behind heavy doors towards whatever awaited beyond this magical day.

plopping onto a chair legs feeling like they might give out at any second, you simply stared bewildered at open phone grasped tightly in palm. had any of this truly happened, or had stress and fangirl aspirations finally sent imagination into overdrive? only time would tell where genuine connection may blossom if given proper chance to take root. for now, replaying treasured snapshots on a loop would have to suffice to quell your pounding heart until destiny worked her mysterious ways.

true to word, your phone lit up later that week with an unknown number. unlocking brought a message reading simply "hey, it's hayden. are you free saturday night?" giddy butterflies exploded anew seeing his name, fingers rushing to confirm eagerly while coordinating logistics.

[vax-merstappen]

secret keeper (op81)

summary: trying to keep your and oscar's relationship hidden from the public was not easy, especially when the one person you trusted not to say anything may have told the whole grid what was going on.

this definitely got more funny than cute lol but this was probably my favorite fic to write! hope you enjoy!

You were walking through the paddock to meet up with the man who everyone knew as your best friend, Oscar Piastri. You had known each other for years, meeting when your brother had raced against him in a karting series. Though your brother had quit after only a few years of karting, you had grown close to Oscar and continued to hang out with him. When he got to Formula 1, you came to the races that you were able to in order to support your friend.

At least that's what the world thought. You and Oscar had been dating for 2 years before he started racing with McLaren. As a couple you mutually decided to keep your relationship as private as possible. Fans could get nasty and with Oscar's dream of making it to the pinnacle of motorsport, you knew that every single thing you did together would be analyzed if you were to go public. You liked your privacy and Oscar did too, so naturally it made sense to just be friends publicly.

Of course your families and close friends knew that you were dating. You had also informed the members of the team that needed to know, just so they could understand why you were always in the paddock. Outside of that, there were very few people that knew the situation.

So it was shocking to say the least when you passed by Pierre on the way to the McLaren hospitality one morning and he gave you a nod of recognition. "Ah, you're Oscar's friend!" he exclaimed, making air quotes as he said the word friend. He shook your hand and smiled.

"What is that supposed to mean?" you asked, wondering if he somehow knew you were dating Oscar.

Pierre looked embarrassed for a second. "Oh, um, I just meant that you guys seem too close to be just friends? You must be best friends to show up at all these races, he must see you like a sister?"

You cringed inwardly at being seen as Oscar's sister, but were ultimately relieved that Pierre did not know about your relationship. You wished Pierre luck on the race and continued towards the McLaren hospitality. Right before you could step inside, you saw Logan walking towards you.

He smiled before gesturing at you to follow him into the alley between the hospitality buildings. "You better treat him right," Logan said.

"Treat who right?" you asked, again scared that Logan knew about you dating Oscar.

"Oscar," he said and your heart skipped a beat. "If you're going to date him, you better do it right. If you break his heart, Alex and I will break you."

Your stomach dropped. "I, I how did you know?" you stammered.

"Oh, uh, lucky guess?" Logan shrugged awkwardly. "But, uh, don't mess with my boy." He walked away.

First Pierre acting weird and now Logan. Something was up and you needed to find Oscar to figure it out. You beelined into the hospitality to find where he could possibly be hiding. Checking all the rooms, you found that he was nowhere in sight. After asking around, you discovered that Oscar was scheduled to speak with the media at the press conference. You needed to find him before he got on that stage.

You walked as fast as you could without running towards where he was supposed to be. However, you looked to your right and saw yet another driver approaching you. Fernando Alonso himself rushed to your side.

"Hey congrats on the new boyfriend!" he said jokingly, before noticing the panicked expression on your face. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I need to find Oscar," you said. "Somehow all of you know about us and I don't know why and I'm scared."

Fernando looked you in the eyes. "Hey, it's alright, let's go find him together. He should be at the media stage right?"

You nodded and were relieved as Fernando began to lead you towards your boyfriend. "But seriously, how did you know?" you asked.

"Well I heard it from Carlos, but I don't know how he found out," he revealed. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine, Nando, just help me find Oscar."

You finally got to the stage and saw your boyfriend already being interviewed. Fernando gave you one last reassurance that everything would be okay before leaving you to go do his own press duties. You looked to the seat next to you and saw yet another driver.

"I think you make a great couple," George said, smiling at you. The his face dropped. "Oh, I wasn't supposed to talk about it. Shit."

"It's okay," you sighed. "I know that you know now. I just want to know how this happened."

"Well," George said, looking around before dropping into a whisper. "A certain driver may have slipped and said something about it to Alex who texted Logan, Charles, and I who may have said something to Lewis who actually kept his mouth shut but apparently Charles told Carlos, who told Checo and Nando, and Pierre, who told Esteban and Yuki. That same driver also told Daniel who let Max, Lance, and Nico in and then Nico told Kevin and Valtteri and then Valtteri told Zhou."

"How do you know all that?" you asked, amazed that George kept track of all of the gossip.

"The skill of gossiping comes with the job," he said. "But you didn't hear all this from me."

You nodded. There was nothing left to do now besides wait for your boyfriend to finish the conference. While he talked, you recalled a conversation you and Oscar had during the past week.

---

"I can't believe you bring your friend to so many races," Lando had remarked. "I almost thought you guys were dating at first."

You and Oscar had shared a look. You nodded to him to confirm it was okay to tell the truth.

"Well we are dating," Oscar said and Lando looked up from his phone, shocked.

"Oh my god! I was right!" he shouted.

You and Oscar immediately shushed him. "We're keeping it a secret for now," you explained. "Don't want the press digging into our relationship."

Lando nodded. "My lips are sealed."

Little did you know, he had immediately gone to talk to Alex and let it slip that you and Oscar were actually dating. And a few hours after that, he had mentioned it in conversation with Daniel.

---

You had a realization. The only person who you had mutually agreed to tell on the grid was Oscar's own teammate, Lando Norris. And while you had trusted him, he was sort of famous for being a PR problem.

You looked up to see Oscar leaving the press conference. Your boyfriend smiled and walked over to you when he saw you in the crowd.

"Oscar, the whole grid knows we are dating."

Oscar looked panicked. "I'm so sorry, babe. I don't know how this could have happened, let me go figure it out..."

"I know what happened," you interrupted.

"What?"

"We're going to need to have a conversation with a certain teammate of yours."

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Of course it was him."

You two made your way to the McLaren garage and Oscar's face got angry when he saw Lando nonchalantly talking with one of the mechanics. Oscar was generally a quiet guy, but could be intimidating when necessary. You smiled as you prepared to watch the confrontation.

"LANDO MOTHERFUCKING NORRIS!" Oscar shouted. "Get your ass over here right now!"

Lando looked panicked and you could almost audibly hear him say "oh shit" before scurrying out of the garage. Your boyfriend looked back at you with an amused smile.

"Last time we trust him to keep our secrets."

You laughed before pulling Oscar into a hug. Even though Lando had leaked your relationship to the grid, you knew things wouldn't be so bad as long as you still had Oscar by your side.

[foreingersgod]

Can you write a CC x reader fic about reader meeting the team for the first time.

Like Caitlin forgets her practice jersey at home and you drop it off and they all wonder who you are??

Her Jersey . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you and caitlin’s relationship has always been low key, so how will the team react when you bring her her jersey unannounced?

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

you weren’t something caitlin was trying to hide, nor was she ashamed of you by any means. but she had requested at the beginning of your relationship to just keep things quiet. you were both busy people, having so many things to worry about. you with a fairly religious family who wouldn’t be very thrilled to see you dating a woman, and caitlin with a recently large following who didn’t want to bring unwanted attention to you. she would love to show you off on social media and in person, but risking the hate comments and your well being was too much of a risk.

so you guys kept your relationship low key, not announcing it to anyone at all, including caitlin’s teammates. as much as you wanted to meet them officially and as much as caitlin wanted to flaunt you and brag about how lucky she was, you knew it would be too risky to tell any one.

but your ‘secret’ relationship had its perks. you were the only one who got to know the real caitlin, the one who cherished you behind closed doors, no one else. yes, you were often sad that you couldn’t do stereotypical couple things. like going out to dinner dates, the movies, or do all the fun couples trends. but you were appreciative of what you had: late nights at your apartment, being treated to breakfast in her bed, long and steamy showers shared together. you found a way to make it work.

one day, as you were sitting on your couch after caitlin left your apartment for practice, you had noticed a bright yellow piece of cloth tucked into one of the cushions. pulling it free, you had realized that she had left her jersey at your apartment. it had probably gotten stuck in your couch when you heatedly pulled it over her head as you straddled her lap, eager to see her when she came over late after her game last night. your cheeks were heating up as you reminisced to last nights events.

quickly pulling yourself from your day dream (you could have sat there all day thinking about last night if you could) you shot a text to caitlin, asking if she needed it.

you: hey babe, i just noticed you left your jersey at my place last night, want me to meet you somewhere private real quick and bring it to you?

you watched as her text bubbled popped, awaiting an answer.

Cait <3: oh shit, i had meant to grab that. yea if you wanna come down here, I’ll grab it from you real quick.

you: want me to wait outside? just so that they don’t all see me there.

Cait <3: nah, it should be fine, i’ll just be sneaky ;)

you laughed to yourself, typing out your response

you: if you say so, see you soon 💋

and with that, you were out the door, jersey in hand and bag thrown over your shoulder.

you pulled into the parking lot, getting out and heading into the building pretty quickly. making sure to avoid anyone you may know that might ask what you were doing here. you crept through a few winding halls before you saw the open gym doors, peaking inside to see everyone huddled around talking to one another.

you stood, slightly out of view, waiting for caitlin to notice you. after a few moments, she saw you waiting there patiently, fiddling with the hem of the jersey. you were so cute she couldn’t help but smile to herself. she excused herself from the group, jogging over to the other end of the gym.

as she made her way over to you, you noticed that a few of the girls had been watching her as she left. they tried to discreetly sneak a look at who cait was talking to.

“hey, baby!” she panted, pulling you into a quick kiss “thanks for coming all the way down here”

“yea it was no problem” you smiled sweetly, hands resting gently on her chest as she kissed you again. as you pulled away, though, you felt eyes on you. the same girls, along with the rest of the team, were now staring in your direction.

cait tried to say something else to you, but you weren’t listening as you were trying to grab her attention, shaking her shoulder violently.

“what, what?” she looked at you confused.

“cait,” you nodded your head in their direction “i think we’ve been caught”

she quirked her eyebrows, still lost, eventually turning her head to look behind her. and sure enough, there they all were, cocky smirks plastered across their faces as they jokingly whistled and cheered. out of embarrassment, you covered your face in your hands, caitlin only laughing along with them.

“yea, i guess so” she grabbed your hand, starting to pull you into the gym “might as well introduce you then…if you want?”

“i guess there’s nothing left to hide so…why not” you chuckled, letting her lead you, hooking your arm with hers. she led you to the middle of the court, all the girls still curious as to who you were.

“caitlin with a secret woman?” kate laughed, smiling your way, you had heard lots about her. who’s this?”

caitlin looked down at you, hands still intertwined. she ran her thumb over yours, sensing you were nervous with all the attention on you, trying calm you down.

“YN, this is my team” she began “and team, this is my girlfriend, YN”

they all immediately smiled at you, quick to welcome you with open arms. each girl gave you a comforting hug and introducing themselves, letting you know how lovely it is to meet you and how they’re excited to get to know you better. and of course, there was some playful banter. gabbie and kate at some point asking ‘how did caitlin manage to date someone as beautiful as you?’, eliciting a shy laugh from you. but they were all so funny and sweet, you instantly felt welcomed into such a tight knit group.

“alright, can you guys try not to scare her away!” caitlin interrupted as you chatted with the team “she’s really important to me so i’d appreciate if you didn’t freak her out with your dumb ass questions”

you all chuckled, teasing her a bit more before it was time to say your goodbyes to the girls. you thanked them for being so kind to you and they told you they couldn’t wait to hang out with you more some other time. caitlin told them she’d be back, taking your hand again and walking you out to your car.

as you got back to the parking lot, caitlin beginning to open your door for you, you stopped her. “hey, thanks for introducing me, cait. i know we said to keep it quiet, but i’m glad you trust your team enough to introduce me. wether it was on purpose or not” you smiled, squeezing her bicep sportively.

“i’m glad too,” she said “i think it was finally time to do it anyways, i was getting tired of people not knowing that you’re mine anyways”

she continued “you mean the world to me and i love you so much, thank you for putting up with sneaking around for so long”

“it was for the best, but i’m really happy we can be out to more people now” you said. “you’re team was really sweet, i can’t wait to get to know all of them”

“me too, they already love you. they won’t be able to stop asking about you for the rest of practice i bet”

you both chuckled, relieved to finally have such a huge weight off your chest.

“just don’t tell them anything too embarrassing about me, ok?” you quipped.

“i don’t think there’s anything i could say about you that would be embarrassing” she said as she helped you into your car “you’re absolutely perfect”

with that, you kissed her one last time before closing the door and waving her goodbye. as you pulled out of the parking stall, you watched as she jogged back into the building, a smile still lingering on her lips.

truthfully, you didn’t think you’d be so happy to have gotten caught.

[planet-dusk]

🏷️ f!reader, perversion, upskirt photos (nonconsensual), yandere obsessive behavior

jeongin who treasures his secret folder of upskirt pictures like a dragon sitting on its gold. his favorites are the ones he took when you were asleep; skirt flipped up to show a glimpse of your panties clinging to every curve, ample flesh spilling past the hems, begging for his touch. how he'd lick and suck right at the junction where your ass meets your thighs, the perfect curve to trace with his tongue. if he dared. but all he does is take a picture, shame and guilt already eating away at him.

you trust him to put you to bed when you come home drunk late at night. stumbling and clinging onto him while he helps you out of your jacket. small hands linger on his arms and turn his ears bright red. your lopsided smirk tells him you've noticed. jeongin knows it'd be so easy to push you up against the wall now, swallow your whimpers as he slots his thigh between your legs. suck on your clit until you pass out and wake up with no memory of all the things he's done to you.

"are you going to stay there, or are you coming with?" you drawl, and he shakes his head, your giggles haunting him long after he's slammed his door shut. you've always known how to rile him up.

it's fucking pathetic, really, the way he doesn't dare to make a move even if you're presenting yourself to him on a silver platter. maybe it's because he knows you never look at him twice when you're sober, alcohol and the lonely hour the only reasons for your sudden interest.

or maybe — and deep down he knows his truth — it's the illicitness that turns him on. watching the gusset of your panties grow wetter and wetter as you trash around in your booze-fuelled dreams, blissfully unaware of the shadow hovering above you. he's one second away from getting caught: a disgusting pervert jerking off to his sleeping roommate, and nothing makes jeongin cum harder than the rush of adrenaline straight from his brain to his cock.

one day just watching you may not be enough anymore. but for now jeongin's content with his ever growing collection, filing your photos away for later use. satisfied knowing you're all his (even if you don't realize it yet). he smiles when you still and sigh, body sinking deeper between the pillows.

jeongin brushes your hair out of your face and allows himself to dawdle for one more minute before softly closing the door behind him and returning to his own room.

he uploads his newest acquisitions to his hidden folder, sitting back and admiring you in all your perfection. and right at that moment, basking in the blue glow of his monitor, it hits him. how lucky he is.

he's never letting you go.

[austinsastrology8991]

JUPITER and where do you the MOST but its never EnuF > Jupiter ASpects < and the Taste of ABUNDANCE that Blinds everyone in awe

Jupiter aspecting Sun - Bombastic ass people, they are the epitome of doing the most. Always thriving, always smiling, always giving and receiving, they just love themselves so much and they want to share this sense of joy that they have found and give it to anyone who had the pleasure of meeting them

Jupiter aspecting Moon - They are so emotional but so tender. everyone wants to hug them and get a hug from them. supreme motherly energy and everyone feels if they spill their feelings to them they will really listen, they'll probably start crying from the joy of you sharing their feelings to them Jupiter aspecting Mercury - too smart for their own good or anyone elses. Its hard to really tell what they mean because they have a hard time telling you everything going on in their head, so they practice the art of simplyifying whilst in their heads they are thinking of the most complex rubix cube with triangles, and their simultaneously talking to you. just go do brain surgery already (on yourself) Jupiter aspecting Venus - Luck is always on their side, they just attract abundance, and its hard for them to admit they are so lucky because to them this is just a everyday occurence. but when you talk to them, you cant even be mad at their stupid luck because they clearly are very beautiful people inside and out, but still everyone stays mad cause they way too lucky it ain't even fair Jupiter aspecting Mars - Drive is so strong they drove off the cliff and didn't take their foot off the pedal. But seriously they never quit; they love the thrill of pursuit, and the desire to win is so strong they feel nothing can stop them, even when something does stop them (and its gonna have to be a lot) they'll just use this time to recover then go go go again. Jupiter aspecting Saturn - the self control and self mastery is so admirable they never run out of applause for their hard work. which only inspires them to work harder, and its not for you, its because they get off on the feeling of completion, so when they can complete something to satisfaction, they are better than good. Self mastery is their bitch Jupiter aspecting Uranus - Crazy motherfuckers who do something no one ever done before, but everyone cant get enough. Truly fearless in going after their desires no matter how twisted or frownd upon they may be, they gonna do it because thats what makes them feel special. And it truly is special when they show off what ever the hell it is they got going on Jupiter aspecting Neptune - Angels on earth who are protected by their stupid amount of empathy. They have so much empathy and imagination at their disposal they can forgive anyone, and they are always stressing about doing the right thing. They are not easily persuaded to do the wrong thing, they've seen how destructive it has made everyone else and they strive to set an example, and this gives them an abundance of protection from negative forces. too creative too Jupiter aspecing Pluto - the darkest dungeon is where they learn to crawl and thrive. they have discovered secrets from the dark and it wasnt easy, but now they know how to use it to their advantage. Anything but naive, these natives are so deep and mesmerizing everyone cant believe what they went through and who they became. oh and they get stuck in your head like a parasite

[daughterofyore]

hiii !! loved your george post your writing absolutely amazing.. i was wondering if you could write about george and readers honeymoon or george fucking reader on even days (intense smut and angst i beg)

thank you anon who I definitely don’t know- ;) I’ll do two different stories for you, one for the honeymoon and one for even days :)

Honey Sweet.

King George x f!reader

[[Queen Charlotte (netflix)]]

category; heavy smut, fluff

wc; 2,783

a/n; You and King George have been friends for years, playfully teasing each other and sneaking improper meetings with each other. You marry and your honeymoon is very, very spicy. The naughtiness you both tried to tame flares.

!!W!!;; nsfw, light bondage, virgin, degradation, praise kink, lowk rough sex, gagging, breeding kink

The wedding had been a grand affair. Lavish, sprayed in the finest jewels and freshest flowers. All those of importance in attendance. Anyone who was someone sat along the gallery and watched as you walked up the aisle. Your train felt miles long, the skirts of your wedding dress billowed around you as you traveled up the aisle. You could see him, standing at the altar. Your first time seeing him since your secret rendezvous in the garden. He looked, spectacular. You admired him, devilish smile grinning down at you. You swore his eyes were glazed as he watched you approach.

When you finally stepped onto the altar he took your hands in his, he whispered a gentle “You’re beautiful.” Before turning to face the Bishop. The pair hearing the bishops words but not really listening. The tension between the pair of you was palpable. You watched him in your peripheral, a smile creeping onto the corners of his lips. A man of mischief, it seemed.

“I now proclaim you man and wife, King and Queen of the United Kingdom’s.” The bishop smiled, looking between the pair of you as you both turned to face each other. “You may kiss your Queen, sire.” George smiled down at you, grinning from ear to ear. How lucky were you to marry the love of your life? Your childhood best friend? The man you truly, utterly adored. George stepped close to you, holding your hands close to his heart.

“I love you.” He whispered, loud enough for only you to hear. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Quickly before you could register what had happened he bit your lip, sly enough nobody else could notice it. You withheld a yelp, looking at him with slightly widened eyes. “That’s a hint for what’s to come later.” He smirked down at you, squeezing your hands as you turned to face your court. The Ton rose, applauds erupting in a cacophony of celebrations. The pair of you strode down the aisle, hand in hand, united before all.

You entered Birmingham House, fresh into your honeymoon respite. The house staff applaud you as you entered, and George thanked them gratefully. You nodded and thanked them, the pair of you beelining for the grand stair case. Red carpet and flowers from the reception lining the bannisters. George leaned down to your ear, whispering “I would run up these stairs right now with you in my arms if I could, but your wedding dress is much too heavy for me.” You chuckled, looking up at him. “You look ravishing in it, I must say.” His grin widened, you couldn’t help but scoff at his flattery.

“And you, my dear husband look delicious in this white and gold uniform.” George bit his lip, looking like he could devour you this very moment if given the chance. He would, once you were in your chambers.

“I cant wait to rip that beautiful dress off of you.” You felt butterflies erupt into flight in your stomach, your knees almost buckling. “But for now, I’ll admire your strength in carrying the thing.” He stopped at the stairs. He stood behind you, waving handmaidens away as he scooped up your train and skirts, lifting the weight so you could climb the stairs. “First act of marital duty, help my wife to bed in her wedding dress.” The pair of you laughed, climbing the stairs in tandem. The staff admired the pair of you, if this was your first night they were sure the pair of you, were a match made in heaven.

George swung open the doors to the chambers. A crackling fire blazed in the hearth, a grand ordained varnished mahogany four poster bed sits at the far centre wall. Curtains drape across its corners, and of course the room is themed in the famous royal reds. The moment the doors closed behind you, George dropped your dress, turning you around to face him. “I’ve been wanting to devour you the moment I saw you at the bottom of the aisle.” He slipped his fingers beneath the lacy sleeves in your shoulders. “But I have had to wait, and now, my dear wife, I need your attention.” You gulped, your core ablaze. He stood before you, breathing deep as if to calm himself. “I must ask you, I knew we have had our own improper dealings…” he was referring to all the times the pair of you slipped away in gardens, never going the full mile but, playful kisses, bold touches were most certainly exchanged. But never did you expose your bodies or go a step too far. You were friends first, then this romantic attraction had grown. And now here it was, in full display as you stood before each other. Wedding rings brand new and heavy, the sexual tension pulsating between you. “Are you comfortable with going the whole way tonight?” You looked up at him, through your lashes and sucked in a breath.

“I’m ready for anything if it is with you George.” He smiled, immediately leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. His kiss was feverish, desperate nearly. He yearned for your attention, your body. He had controlled himself for so, so long. He had desired you from the moment the pair of you had met and now it was finally coming to fruition. He slipped an arm around your waist, pressing you into his front. He licked your lips, nipping at them gentle. He sucked the tiny sting away, before finally slipping his tongue against yours, dancing around your mouth. Your breath escaped you, gasping against his kiss as he explored you. He took it as an invitation to delve deeper, gently guiding you backwards to the bed.

He lay you out like a feast. Bracing himself over you with a hand each side of your head, he lowered himself down to kiss you again. He brought his head to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin where your neck and shoulder combined. Your skin popped out of his mouth with a wet smack, and he grinned. “Marked as my wife, I think I’ll do that more often.” You smirked you at him, wrapping your hands behind his neck.

“You dirty thing you.” You chuckled, guiding him back to your lips to kiss him again. He pulled you up, kneeling onto the bed and stepping around you, undoing the various buttons and ribbons with meticulous care. Ever so slowly he undid each fasten, achingly slow and you felt the fiery need in your core grow. Once you were free he came to stand in front of you, pulling you up as he slipped hands beneath the sleeves and pulled down the dress. Teasingly dragging the fabric over your skin and watching it fall from your body. You were adorned in lacy white lingerie, specifically for this moment. The dress fell to the floor, piled at your feet. The white garter around your thigh squeezing your flesh. He sucked in a shaky breath as he admired you, drinking in the sight before him.

“Oh the things I will do to you tonight my queen.” Without another word he ripped his own suit off, throwing the shirt to the side and yanking his trousers down till he stood in briefs. He guided you back to the bed, laying you down and crawling on top of you once more. He pulled you up till you lay completely on its mattress, then he began to turn his attention to your breasts. He grabbed the corset, yanking at the ribbons and pulling it off of you. Your breasts fell free, without a moments hesitation his mouth latched to your nipple, sucking and grazing his teeth over it. Your fingers snaked through his hair, tugging slightly. Your leg raised to wrap around his waist. He groped your other breasts in his hand, massaging it, squeezing and pulling gently. He turned his attention to the other nipple, leaving the other swollen and puffy. He brought his fingers to it as he sucked the other, pinching your nipple and causing you to squirm from the sensitivity. He chuckled against your skin, loving your reaction. The soft skin was heaven for him, this was perfection. You were perfection. He could not imagine himself in any other reality than this one, right now.

His lips left your nipple with a pop, and he licked a trail to your stomach. Kissing you lovingly and snaking his way to your waist. He toyed with the hem of your panties, playing with them as he looked up to you. “Ready my dear?” You nodded, gasping a quick breathless yes as he pressed two fingers to your slit. Rubbing the fabric between them and savouring your juices as they soaked it. He bit the hem of your underwear, dragging it down over your thighs and off your legs. He took it from his mouth, gently turning you over and bringing your hands behind your back. So smoothly he created a makeshift handcuff with the lacy white fabric, tying your hands behind your back. He rolled you back over, spreading your legs and diving into your cunt.

You squirmed beneath him, trying to pull away. He only yanked you closer to him, holding you still as he explored your folds. Licking long lazy lines up your centre, tasting you. He reached your clit, immediately beginning to lick and suck it. You arched your back, unable to contain your ecstasy. Moans escaping you as he played with you. He brought a finger up, inserting it agonisingly slow and working it in and out of you. Feeling you widen and soak his hand, he stuck in a second, then a third. He pumped his hand in and out of you, curling his fingers to reach that particular spot that made you cry out his name. Your moans rang through the room, your hands clawed at his head, simultaneously begging for him to continue and stop. He never slowed his pace, keeping steady rhythm in playing with your clit and pumping his fingers into you. “Oh George you’re going to- to make me cum!” You could barely speak between your moans, yet you felt him smile against you. He didn’t miss a beat, working you towards that orgasm. It was your undoing when he placed his other hand on your swollen clit, rubbing it fast and without mercy.

“Cum for me darling, show me what a good girl you are.” You cried out beneath him, his touch electrifying. The orgasm ripped through you, and he continue his ministrations throughout. Riding it out for you, leaving you a pile of mush and sweat. Breathing heavy. He grinned down at you, watching you catch your breath. “We are far from done my dear, I still have to put a baby in you.” You swore it was almost your undoing again, before he climbed off the bed and stood at its edge. He grabbed your thighs, pulling you off the bed with great care and guiding you to your knees. He pulled off his briefs, admiring his handy work at your makeshift handcuffs. “Show me what a good slut you are, wife. Suck me dry.” His cock stood hard and tall, he pressed it against your lips. You licked a slow line from its base to its tip, George moaned above you.

You took him in your mouth, sucking the tip and only taking him half way into your mouth. His size made it hard to full take him, so you made up for it in sucking him hard and licking his tip as beads of precum leaked. He looked down at you, grabbing a handful of your hair and guiding your head up and down on his dick. He began to face fuck you, creating a steady rhythm of in and out. Working his way deeper into your throat each time. “Such a pretty little slut aren’t you wife? Sucking my cock like this.” He admired the way your tits jiggled with each thrust he pushed into you. Without warning, he pushed himself into you to the hilt, his balls against your chin. “Take it, take it like a good girl.” Your toes curled, gagging on his cock as your eyes watered. He pulled out allowing you to catch your breath, before slamming back in. He repeated this over and over again, choking you on the sheer size of his cock. He was a moaning mess above you, muttering ‘yes, yes’ with each thrust.

“Oh I’m going to cum, drink it all wife. Don’t let a drop go to waste.” He thrust into you three more times until finally, it was his undoing. He came long strings of cum into the back of your throat, forcing you to gulp it down or choke and gag. He watched you swallow, admiring you and how pretty you looked. “My beautiful little slut, drinking my cum so eagerly.” Once he had finished he pulled out, leaving you gasping for air. He let go of his grip in your hair and picked you up, walking to a desk in the corner. With one hand he swiped the contents to the ground, grabbing the panties tied around your wrists he lay you across the table, ass in the air and your breasts pressing into the smooth cold mahogany. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to stand my dear.” You could hear the grin in his voice, this side of George was something you hadn’t expected, but you loved it. You wanted more of it. You needed him, every inch of him.

He spread your legs with his foot, then grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them for a clear view of your cunt. He pushed two fingers inside you, lubing them up before quickly pumping his cock. He lined the tip with your entrance. You could feel the head of it slipping inside, he slowly entered, letting you adjust to his size. He stayed pushing in till he was completely inside you. He waited until he felt you adjust, then slowly pulled out. He gritted out behind closed teeth how tight you were, how wet you were. Your moans and pleads of him to fuck you pushed him to the edge. He knew you were accustomed to his size, so without warning he pounded into you. Shoving you up the table and a resounding clap ricocheted off the walls.

“Fuck George, yes!” You cried, your front flush with the wood. He pulled out and slammed into you again. He kept your legs spread, yet held onto the panties tied around your wrists and used them to hold you in position. He fucked you relentlessly, moaning above you as he pounded into your pussy.

“Oh fuck, you delicious heavenly thing. My wife, taking my cock like a good slut.” He rammed himself into you again, picking up the pace and without mercy slammed himself into you. His balls slapped against your clit, it was overstimulating. “You look so pretty like this, bent over my desk, bare to me and being fucked so brutally.” He pounded into you with each word, not giving you a moments rest. “I’m going to cum in you, you will look so beautiful while you grow our heir inside you.” This realisation fuelled him, and as you cried out his name he slammed himself into you to the hilt, over and over again.

“Fucking hell I’m going to cum!” You yelled out, followed by a chorus of moans and pleas. He smiled at you, watching you rock back and forth on the desk with each thrust.

“Cum for me pretty slut.” He said as he reached a hand around your thigh and rubbed at your clit. It was your undoing, you released and a moan so loud escaped you. George muttered a ‘fuck, yes’ and suddenly you could feel a pool of warmth growing in core. His seed spilled into you, filling you. He stayed inside you, breathing deeply for a moment. The pair of you could barely catch your breath, stars dancing in your eyes from the level of ecstasy you had just reached.

George lifted you with such gentle care, he stayed inside you, but guided you to the bed. He lay down and placed you above him, he kept himself inserted into your weeping cunt. “I refuse to let any leak out my lovely wife.” He smirked at you, but you couldn’t help but kiss him.

“If this is how we fuck my love, we will have a lot of babies.”

[themissinghand]

Nice to meet you🤗..If the request is still open, Can I ask for Dokja's request for lucky female readers?🥹..Where do reader have high good luck?.The reader and Kim Dokja have known each other for a long time because the reader first started a conversation with Dokja (I'm sure it's fun when Dokja introduces reader to his group😂.) It's okay if not. Just don't be stressed by the requests. I hope the requests don't bother you.. Thank you.. And may your whole day till night be good.. Bye-bye.. Don't forget to take care of yourself.🤗💕

Omniscient Reader Viewpoint Lucky Star

Summary: In which Dokja finds his lucky star.

Or, maybe he’s not that unlucky after all.

Pairing: Kim Dokja x Lucky! F! Reader

Note: Thanks for your patience! Make sure you all take care of yourselves too~

Noona: typically used by younger male to call an older female or sibling.

Warning: None.

★・・・・・・★

If there is an angel in this world, then it must be you.

You were a bright light in his life, providing salvation to him in forms of patience, encouragement, and friendship.

You were his manager at the game company he worked at. Someone who was vibrant and cheerful, who possessed an uncanny ability to turn the mundane into moments of joy.

"Dokja! Let’s go for a drink!" You would say, your infectious enthusiasm pulling him into a world where deadlines and stress would melt away.

But you also knew when to not take in bullshit.

“Hey (Y/N), why are you overreacting? Huh? Just because I didn’t do my work the one time-“

“One time? It’s been a week since you did anything. And you put it on the newbie to finish it?”

“So what? You’re a terrible manager anyway, that’s why women shouldn’t work here-“

A snap silenced him.

“Hey mother fucker, calculate your severance pay. Talk to me like that in the disputes office and see who dies first.”

Kim Dokja heard it accidentally, but from then on, his respect for you has soared above the clouds.

"Dokja, you've got this! I'll teach you the ropes.”

Dokja marveled at your ability to lead the team with outspoken confidence, patiently teaching him the ropes and offering unwavering support when the challenges of the workplace seemed overwhelming.

“Happy birthday to our newbie, Kim Dokja!”

“Merry Christmas everyone! I got some gifts!”

“Ya, let’s go out for a drink everyone! I got the holy bank card from the boss!”

The team loves you for being a beacon of light, someone who could be fun and leader-like at the same time.

Dokja couldn't help but think that you must be cherished by the heavens, as you were blessed with an extraordinary dose of luck.

Like how you would “accidentally” meet important connections and befriend them, leading to successful results in projects.

Or how you would win those in gacha games with the character that you wanted.

“Noona, if you were in a game, your luck stat would be maxed out.”

“I guess so, but isn’t that good?”

Very soon after, little did he know that your luck would soon become a lifeline when the world plunged into chaos.

When the apocalypse struck, Dokja stumbled upon the familiar face in an unlikely place – the convenience store, hastily gathering supplies with a calm demeanor that belied the impending doom. It was then that he realized the depth of her luck, a quality that extended beyond corporate success.

Like how does someone find a healing elixir in a pile of junk food in the convenience store!?

Or how does she find a ultra rare bow in a police station?

What is this unfair world!?

Dokja appreciates your help and your luck, but at the same time, he can’t help but lament on his own life.

Perhaps the luckiest thing that happened to him was dating you.

With such a thought, Kim Dokja’s lips curled up and hugged you from behind.

“What wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Does my good boy want some love?”

Although he was blushing aggressively and in public, he couldn’t help but nod.

[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is squealing and wishing for grandchildren]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ thinks Incarnation ‘Kim Dokja’ play a main character of a romance comedy show]

[The Constellations have sponsored you 1000 coins]

“Get a room.”

Dokja expected the worst when Yoo Joonghyuk entered the scene, but to his surprise, your life was spared.

“She’s useful.” Says the emo sunfish as he glares at Dokja for absolutely no reason.

(Okay, there might be that one time where he returned a punch, and absolutely wrecked that protagonist…no regrets)

Dokja wants to smack him a few times in the face.

The revelation that her constellation was the Secretive Plotter added another layer of mystery to her extraordinary luck. The constellation seemed to guard her against many dangers, marking her as someone to be protected, though for some unknown reason.

Can’t say Kim Dokja has any complaints about that at all.

You must be protected at all costs.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ thinks her lucky encounters and moments are interesting]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ donates 1864 coins]

Whatever it is, Kim Dokja has no complaints…scrap that, he has too many complaints since he has too many rivals!

“(Y/N), you are my lucky star right?”

“Yep! Don’t worry!” She pats him on the head and he ignores the knowing looks from others on the team.

“Hug.”

“Someone’s needy today.” Kim Dokja gave others the middle finger behind your back as he rested his head on your shoulders.

From that point on, Dokja affectionately dubbed her his "lucky star" or, as they playfully jokes, his "lucky charm."

Whether it was winning luck-based games or navigating perilous situations unscathed, your fortunate aura became a source of both amusement and comfort in the face of uncertainty.

“So, what’s it like raising a puppy as a Sugar Mommy?” Han Sooyoung asks you, who chuckles lightly.

“Han Sooyoung.” Kim Dokja twitched a brow, but calmed down a bit when you held his hand.

“He’s not a puppy, but he’s cute and bites people he doesn’t like. And he protects me well!”

“(Y/N)!” Kim Dokja blushes in embarrassment but couldn’t say anything in his stuttering mess.

Han Sooyoung raised a brow before she mimicked a barfing action.

“Damn girl, you have it hard, I respect you.” She patted your shoulder before leaving.

“Dokja, just like I’m your lucky star and charm, you are my lucky puppy. Okay?”

Looking at your puppy face, Dokja couldn’t say no.

“Fine…just don’t call me that in public…”

Kim Dokja felt a kiss in his nose, and he reciprocated the action by lacing your hands together.

“Aw, who’s a good boy?”

“Stop it…”

Your laughter is music to his ears, and while sometimes your teases make him want to hide somewhere in a hole and die from embarrassment, he loves you all the same.

“Get a room!”

“Shut up you sunfish!”

Maybe cursing at the protagonist isn’t the greatest idea.

(When has that ever stopped him?)

“I will kill you Kim Dokja!”

[hotchreid-cm]

Forgot / Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Summary: You tell Hotch to go home after a long case.

It was a long case. One of those cases that as soon as you arrive back at the office you just want to go home. And that's what everyone did.

Except you and Hotch. You weren't ready to go home yet. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren't quite ready to let Hotch out of your sight. You almost lost him tonight.

You look up from your desk, your eyes drifting to his office, the light spilling through the slats in the window. Hotch is hunched over his desk, rubbing his temples, you assume with his eyes closed.

You're up and walking before you even realise what you're doing. A soft knock on the door and a quiet 'come in', bring you Hotch now leaning back in his chair looking directly at you.

You clear your throat, "what are you still doing here? I thought you would have gone home as soon as we were back?"

Hotch gestures to the papers on his desk, "I think the cleaning crew may have knocked some papers over and tried to put them back together. Only they're now in the wrong order and I have to file them tomorrow."

You watch Hotch rub at his temples again, eyes screwed shut like his lamp light is too bright for him.

"I'll put them back in the right order. You go home."

Hotch shakes his head, "I couldn't ask you to do that. It's not your job and I'm sure you're tired and ready to go home."

You step into his office fully, "its lucky you're not asking then."

He looks at you with some surprise, and a very faint smile.

You gesture for him to rise from the chair, "it doesn't take a profiler to know that you're in pain and you need rest. Go home, see Jack and get some sleep."

He studies you for a moment and as always you have to fight the urge to squirm under his heavy gaze.

You're not sure if he knows that he has a smoulder hot enough to make a nuns panties go up in flames, but he uses it on you all the time. And let's just say you're glad you're not a religious woman as all the times you've thought about him while in bed would surely be your one way ticket to downstairs.

You've always had an attraction to Hotch from the moment you joined the team. Only he was so closed off that you could never tell if he felt the same.

But after tonight, after he got taken, you knew the attraction was becoming something more. Something dangerous, too real.

You crushed him in a hug and held him a little longer than was professionally appropriate when you finally found him. But you didn't care, nothing matters when it came to losing the people you loved. All you wanted to do was take care of him.

Hotch rose from his desk and reached for his briefcase, "you're sure about this?"

You flash him a smile, "absolutely, I've got no one waiting for me at home, especially no one as adorable as Jack. I'll get the files ready for the morning, after you're well rested."

Hotch nods, walking towards you and the door to his office. He surprises you when his large hand covers your forearm, "thank you."

He looks so deeply into your eyes as he says it, you're afraid he can see every secret you've ever had, your soul laid bare.

And then he's gone, striding down the hall and out of the glass doors.

Your breath leaves you all at once as you move to sit in the chair he just vacated.

The air still smells like him and it comforts you when your brain brings back those terrifying moments of the case just passed.

You just start to sort through the papers when Hotch rushes back into the office.

You stand at the abruptness of the unexpected intrusion, "Hotch? What is it? What's wrong?"

He blows out a breath like he had run all the way back here, "I forgot something"

"What? What did you forget?"

He strides across the room and around the desk, both hands covering your cheeks as he brings your face closer to his.

When your lips meet, your surprise melts along with your mouth against his. Your body naturally leans into his strong one, taking strength you didn't know you needed.

When you open to him, and your tongues meet, one of his hands slides to your waist. He tries to bring your bodies closer, to feel you, and connect you like he never wants to let you go.

When he finally pulls away, his thumb brushes your bottom lip, "I forgot you. But I don't think I'll be making that mistake again. I'll see you in the morning."

And then he was gone, leaving you giggling like a school girl in his office.

A/N: Thank you for reading! It's my first Hotch fic so please be nice 🥹 just wrote this quickly on my phone so not proofread or edited.

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Sixteen - Entanglement

♡♡♡

When you wake up in the morning, you spend a good few moments simply smiling up at your ceiling. The memories of last night come rushing back to you.

You feel giddy.

When the concert had finally ended, Lord Hardy escorted you out to your carriage. He plucked a rose from a nearby potted rose bush and gave it to you. He also had not let you depart without placing a kiss upon your gloved hand.

Your mother had been ecstatic on the way home.

The end of the season was drawing in. It seemed you had managed to secure a match after all. Perhaps you would write to him once he returned to the country.

Your mother and yourself would be staying in London.

Your maid came to wake you, and before you knew it, you were up and ready to face the day. You met your mother for breakfast. All she did was gush about the concert and how proud of you she was.

You couldn't stop smiling.

As you tuck into your breakfast, the butler comes in and declares you have received a gift. You glance at your mother and then back at him as a maid comes in carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

"From Lord Hardy, ma'am."

You grin and look at your mother as she squeals with glee.

Things are looking up for you.

♡♡♡

"Then where did you meet her?" Elosie asks her brother as she follows him through the house.

She was, of course, referring to Genevieve.

"About town," he responds.

"At her shop?"

"Should you not be off somewhere, getting ready to attend your very first ball?" Benedict asks her, hoping to cease her questioning.

Eloise groans.

Hyacinth looks up at Anthony and asks if she may join in on the fun this summer at Aubrey Hall. She is asking about their usual game of Pall Mall.

Anthony snaps out of his thoughts and agrees that she may, as long as she does not touch his lucky mallet.

Eloise sits down with Benedict, continuing to question him.

She had thought her brother had been interested in you, but it seemed she was wrong. Which made his friendship with the tailor even more intriguing to her.

"What other places might Madame Delacroix frequent besides her shop?"

There was also the thought that Eloise suspected the tailor to be Lady Whistledown.

"Many places, Eloise, for her many interests." Benedict responds, sketching in his book. He had still been working on his art since he last saw you.

"You mean her many secrets. You should be careful, Benedict. Madame Delacroix may not be who you think she is," Eloise says. "And consorting with her, well, there may be consequences."

Benedict shushes her quietly, hoping the others didn't hear that.

"I would have expected this from anyone but you," he says. "You think just because Madame Delacroix has a paid occupation, or because she does not reside with the bounds of Grosvenor Square, she's different. Is that it? That she is somehow less deserving of my attention because she is not whom polite society deems appropriate?"

"That is not what I'm saying at all." Eloise clarifies.

"Then what are you saying?"

Eloise sighs and looks at her brother. "You are right. I should prepare for our sister's ball."

"Perhaps you should."

Eloise stands to leave but is stopped by the entrance of Violet entering the room.

"Aunt Winnie jas sent word. Francesca will be arriving home tomorrow," Violet smiles.

"How exciting!" Hyacinth beams.

"Perhaps she can tell us of time spent far from London," Colin comments.

"Fran has missed so much," Gregory points out.

"Mm. Indeed." Violet nods. "It certainly has been an eventful season, what with Daphne and the duke, and then Anthony and..."

Anthony lifts his head.

"Yes, well, never mind." Violet stops herself from going further. She leaves the room.

Benedict sighs as he sketches in his book.

♡♡♡

Eloise knocks on the door of the modiste urgently. Madame Delacroix opens the door, dressed in her robe. Her shop wasn't even open today.

"Miss Eloise, you should come back another day when the shop is open."

"I had hoped you would make an exception for me," Eloise chuckles. "I need a dress for my sister's ball."

"You already have a dress for your sister's ball."

"I need another one. A young lady can never have too many dresses." Eloise forces out another chuckle.

She is let in.

"Oh! Perhaps this one." Eloise goes over to a bright yellow gown. "It would make me look quite in fashion in the eyes of the Featheringtons, I rather think. Unfortunate young ladies. They are still quite stung from Lady Whistledown's recent exposé."

Benedict lurks on the stairs, listening to his sister talk. Did she know he had come here?

"I wish the author would write something flattering about them!" Eloise continues.

"Perhaps she will."

"What makes you say that?" Eloise asks.

"Because she knows what is good for her business, and angering loyal customers is not good."

"No... No, it is not." Eloise agrees. "Whether those loyal customers be Featheringtons or Bridgertons, even... Lady Whistledown might wish to examine what she writes about both."

"Indeed."

"I have heard people say that men, such as my brother, if you will, can withstand rumour and gossip, but... I am not always so sure."

"I know why you are here, Miss Eloise. You are very smart, and you care very much about the people in your life, as you should. But you must know I have no intention of compromising anyone."

"That is good." Eloise says. "Because the queen is enraged. So whoever Whistledown is should be careful. I would hate her to be silenced before she has a chance to change her ways and make things right."

"I believe Whistledown is smart enough to take care of herself," Genevieve states.

"Yes. She certainly is." Eloise smiles. "Charming chatting with you, Madame Delacroix."

Eloise leaves.

"Lock the door." Benedict says, looking at her once his sister has left the shop.

♡♡♡

Lord Hardy had come to visit you. You hadn't stopped smiling the entire time he was at the house. Conversation was engaging and thrilling. You were eager to know more about him, and he about you.

Your mother watched you both talk feeling like everything was coming together.

When Lord Hardy requested you join him, your mother had no qualms against him taking you out for the afternoon. You chuckled as you prepared to go out with him.

A boxing match.

You are reminded of the one Anthony brought you to. The thrilling fight you saw. Not exactly a place for a lady, but you were not about to argue.

"Is this alright?" Hardy asks you.

"Yes. I must confess I find it quite thrilling. Though mother may lose her mind if she finds out."

"As far as your mother knows, we are promanading through the park."

You chuckle as you take your seat next to him, keeping your arm hooked around his. You were looking forward to this.

"It is considered a gentleman's sport, but why remain proper when we can have a little fun?" Hardy grins.

You chuckle.

"Lord Hardy, I think I rather like the way you think."

"Thinking is a dangerous activity, but one I am quite happy to encourage. You must also call me Thomas. I insist."

You smile. "Very well, Thomas."

The Bridgerton brothers enter the arena hall. You spot them immediately. They enter in reverse order. Colin, Benedict, Anthony. Each with a top hat upon their heads.

They don't seem to notice you. You're sat quite far up. Your eyes follow Benedict for a moment. He looks well.

Distance seems to have come between you recently. You've seen him a lot less, and he always seems rather busy.

With the end of the season around the corner, you don't expect you'll be seeing much of him at all. Violet had mentioned Aubrey Hall, their family estate. She had said you were welcome to visit them up there.

You hadn't decided if you wanted to go. Perhaps not. Not if Thomas was going to have all your attentions.

Who knows, maybe you'll be a married woman next time you saw them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats. The match is about to begin!"

Thomas smiles at you as you smile back.

The fight starts. You and Thomas cheer along with the crowd as you watch bother fighters. Will the man you want to win. Thomas had placed a bet on him. You had told him that you had seen Will fight before.

Will gets a hit in and you cheer.

Thomas chuckles.

Across the ring, Benedict has spotted you. He sees you sitting there with that man on your arm. He turns his eyes quickly back to the fight.

Why should he care that you're here?

Why should he care who you came with?

You cheer again as Will gets another hit in. And another. And another.

But then it switches up.

The Beast hits back. Again and again and again.

You find yourself standing from your seat. Thomas doing the same beside you. You call for Will to hit him back.

He falls to the floor.

The bell rings.

You cling to Thomas's arm as you watch half the room explode into cheer. You watch Mondrich lay there. It was like he chose to stop fighting. You wondered why.

"Come on, get up!"

He did not. He just accepted defeat.

After the fight, you took Hardy's arm, and he guided you down to the entrance. When you reached the doors, you bumped into the Bridgerton brothers, well, two of them. It was Colin who saw you first and spoke your name with a smile.

Benedict turned to look at you. Colin tipped his hat to your companion. "Lord Hardy."

"Mr. Bridgerton." Thomas nodded back.

"Lord Hardy," Benedict greeted, though he seemed less enthusiastic about it. He then turned to you.

"Shame about Mondrich," you say.

"Yes, quite. Unexpected." Colin comments.

"Is he alright, do you know?" You ask.

"I believe so."

"Shall we go?" Thomas asks you. You look at him and nod. You bid farewell to the brothers and walk away with Hardy.

Benedict follows you with his eyes.

Colin nudges his brother, and Benedict turns his eyes away. He gives Colin a smile and walks on.

♡♡♡

"I am confident I could last a few rounds in a boxing ring."

Daphne had invited you to the Bridgerton house where her family was gathering. Her sister Francesca had returned from Bath, and they were all getting together. The duchess extended the invitation to you, which was nice.

You hadn't seen much of them the last couple of weeks. You accepted.

You chuckled at Anthont words about boxing. He seemed fit enough but did not quite strike you as a boxer. You supposed it was because you can only see him as the Viscount.

"Well, that is certainly a match I would like to see." Benedict responds.

He had been rather quiet with you since you arrived at the house.

You look up and see Daphne and Simon jad arrived. You smile at them both and get up to greet Daphne. She takes your hand with a smile.

"It's good to see you," you say.

"Yes. We haven't had the chance to talk much," she replies.

Francesca then comes over to greet Daphne and her husband. Then Hyacinth, too. You chuckle at the excitement in the room.

Hyacinth steals Simon away for a bit.

"Show me what you have been learning, sister." Daphne requests, wanting Fran to play the piano for her. You join the two ladies at the piano.

Eloise is eating chocolate alone on the sofa. Well, she's alone until Benedict sits down with her.

"I do not share food." Eloise scolds him.

"You are not to do what you did the other morning ever again," he scolds her back. "Do you understand, Eloise?" He asks her.

"You mean visiting my new acquaintance?" She grins.

"She is not your acquaintance."

"I was wrong about her. She is wonderful. You have nothing to worry about."

"I was worried about anything."

"Not worried about what?" Anthony asked, coming over and sitting on Eloise's otherwise. He held his hand to Eloise. She stared at it and then gave him a chocolate.

"Uh, I... I have a friendship with Genevieve Delacroix," Benedict confesses. "The... modiste."

Anthony stares at his brother.

Silence hangs over Eloise's head.

Then Anthony answers. "Good for you, brother. You deserve contentment. We all do."

Benedict and Eloise both look at Anthony with surprise and confusion.

"If the lady contributes to that, then I'm happy for you." Anthony leaves.

"Whatever is in those candies?" Benedict asks. He takes one for himself and stands to join the rest of the family.

"Your pianoforte is quite impressive," Daphne comments. Francesca smiles at her. You agree with Daphne.

"Join me, brother," Fran requests, looking at her third eldest brother.

"Yes, Colin, why not a song?" Violet smiles.

"If I must," he agrees, coming to the piano.

Francesca plays the piano as Colin sings. It's an upbeat song. Gregory and Hyacinth spin and dance while Anthony claps. You laugh softly as you watch.

The song comes to an end, and you applaud Colin for his wonderful singing.

Hyacinth returns to the duke's side to question him about his horses. Violet scolds her lightly, but Simon answers all her questions.

You smile at the sight.

Benedict is slouching in a chair nearby, and you go over to him.

"Hello."

He looks up. "Hello."

You look at him sheepishly for a moment before speaking again. "Are you well?"

"Quite well."

You sigh softly as you look down at your hands. "I've missed you."

Benedict looks at you with gentle surprise. "You have?"

You nod. "Mmhm."

He sits up a little straighter. "You appear to have been busy." He comments.

"Yes." You know to who he refers to.

"Does he make you happy?" He asks.

You nod.

Benedict lets that sit for a fresh short seconds and then inhales softly as he reaches over and settles a hand over yours. "Then I am pleased for you."

You smile at him.

"Thank you."

He removes his hand and sits back in his chair again. You at least feel like some of the air between you has cleared. Yet, he still seems a little guarded.

You say no more and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

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[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when they get caught dating!

AN: I just imagine this as if the other dreamies caught you two dating. 

Mark Lee

You and Mark were caught when he sneaked you in their dorm but turns out they went home early. Mark is probably calm, lets out a sigh everytime one of them gets distracted by something. He explains everything to them CALMLY that yes, he has a girlfriend and you two have been together for so long. He doesn't deny that you two are dating BUT has prepared a long ass explanation on why he has to hide it. After that, the dreamies probably have connected all the dots to why one moment, Mark's personality suddenly shifted. 

Huang Renjun

I feel like Renjun got caught dating because you accidentally left some of your clothes at their dorm. The Dreamies probably investigated WHO among them are dating someone. Eventually, Renjun gives in and confesses that he is indeed dating someone. He doesn't care at all and doesn't really have any plans of keeping it, it just happened that he hasn't found the opportunity to tell them. He'll shrug it off so casually, "so what if I have a girlfriend?" lots of teasing from the dreamies probably.

Lee Jeno

When Jeno gets caught dating you, the first thing he would probably do was apologize to Dreamies. I feel like he'll be sorry for hiding it for too long, and thinks that it may come off that he doesn't trust his members with his relationship. But it's Jeno! so the Dreamies would probably brush it off and just ask him questions like, "since when?" or "when can we meet her?" Jeno would probably be all smiley as he tells them your love story. :( He then later calls you and apologizes to you too because he revealed your relationship to his members. You told him that it's okay. 

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan will give them a confused look when they jumped on him and asked him if he was dating someone. Haechan thought that he was so obvious that he has a girlfriend! He'll probably shrug it off and say something like, "You guys are so stupid, I mean I'm on my phone all day calling with someone and you still think I'm single????" probably will show off too, like he'll tell them about you and how pretty you are and how lucky he is that you're his gf lol. 

Na Jaemin

The moment Jaemin confesses to Dreamies that he is dating someone, the next day he'll ask you to come at his place. You thought that it's just another day to hangout with your boyfriend but the moment you entered the place and saw other huge shoes in front you'll be confused??? what do you mean I'm meeting your members??? Jaemin will assure you that there's nothing to worry about, they just want to meet you personally. And though at first, it was awkward, soon you get used to around them and Jaemin's has a proud smile because you get along with his members. :>

Zhong Chenle

Same case with Haechan, Chenle will just shrug it off that he's dating someone. "Yeah I'm dating someone, it's not like I need to tell you guys that too." He'll probably ask other questions about his relationship with you and has to show a picture of the two of you so that they would be convinced that he's really in a relationship. I feel like Chenle would also tell them to get a girlfriend too lmao. 

Park Jisung

It's a whole interrogation when the Dreamies learned that Jisung has a gf. Like! That's their baby, what do you mean he has a girlfriend? Out of all the Dreamies, Jisung is the most secretive out of all, so it'll be shock factor to them that he has a girlfriend. That's why Jisung would be so ANNOYED that they have to interrogate him. "See this is why I don't want to tell you guys about her." he doesn't like to entertain questions and at the same time the endless teasings are killing him jk.

[wheneclipsefalls]

Grovel Part 2

Pairing: Aged Up Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader

Part 1

Summary: Lo'ak needs a plan. A plan that will bring you back to him.

Warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, lust, pinning, angst, past relationship, mentions of war, injury, etc.

“Stop whining.” Neteyam groaned, watching as Lo’ak secured another tie around the fabric’s base. The kelku was coming together nicely. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Lo’ak all but huffed, lips turned downwards in the same fashion they had been since the celebration. He adjusted the straps of his loincloth, a trail of sweat racing down his spine. Oh how he already missed the refreshing waves of salt water. 

“Your expectations were truly far too high, brother. What did you think she would do?” 

Lo’ak shot him a seething look, one that warned against pushing it further, but brothers were immune to such limits. 

“You’re lucky you made it out of there without injury. And now knowing what you did I can’t say I would have blamed her otherwise.” 

“Yes Neteyam, I understand. Now can you shut up and help me lift the other end?” Lo’ak stomped past him, preparing the right side to be lifted. He didn’t wait for Neteyam to join him before using his own body weight to heave the heavy fabric into place. The younger Sully brother had been hyper fixated on his kelku since their arrival, even going as far as asking Kiri for advice on potential decoration. 

This home had to be good enough to meet your fancy, an objective that he now understood to be much harder than originally anticipated. 

“Mawey, baby brother. I am only trying to get your skxawng ass to understand.”

“Okay then fine!” The fabric was dropped to the floor in a heap. “Tell me what I should do. Since you know the ins and outs of wooing women, tell me how I am supposed to win her back.” His brows lifted, hands placed on his hips as he feigned bracing for his answer. Neteyam was not fazed by his younger brother’s outburst. After seeing Lo’ak’s restlessness the whole trip home in anticipation of seeing you, he was surprised the male was holding up as well as he was. 

“I may just be a simple gentleman, bro, but I think an apology would be a good place to start.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, surprised when Lo’ak was too lost in thought to bother wrestling him off. 

“I’ve tried. Everywhere I go she is avoiding me. I don’t even know where her kelku is or her routines. Otherwise-”

“Maybe I can help with that.” 

Lo’ak sent him a skeptical look.

“What?” He deadpanned. 

“She has a sister, right?” A completely rhetorical question that had Lo’ak knowing exactly where Neteyam was going with this. “Say the right words and maybe I can get some valuable help from Talu.” 

“Wow. How did I deserve a brother like you?” Sarcasm dripped from his tone as he ran a hand over his face. It was no secret that Neteyam had taken a liking to Talu. The future Olo’eyktan was neither bashful nor shy when it came to playing the golden suitor. 

Neteyam simply grinned before slapping him on the back and helping to hoist the kelku side once more.

You were impossible. So hard headed and stubborn that even knowing your route and home was not enough to get in a good apology. He was sure by now that Talu knew of his intentions with you, that giddy smile forever present whenever she announced his presence to you, but there was always an excuse to cut things short. Only a few minutes and you would be running off to aid at the healer’s tent or pick up the hunting gear you had left behind. 

There was no end to the list of excuses you could formulate.

And it didn’t matter that neither himself nor Talu were fooled. You simply weren’t inclined to put more effort into hiding your disdain. 

Lo’ak couldn’t remember you being this difficult before. When the two of you were younger you had handed your heart over to him on a silver platter. Of course your weird friendship had been full of teasing, pranks, and insults but that was only part of the fun. Once romance had been initiated, you took everything he gave with warmth and affection. 

And he had ruined that. 

He let out another sigh, trying to play it off when his mother gave him the side eye. His new bow was almost finished, surely the right weapon he would need to fetch an impressive kill. Perhaps he would use his spear too just in case. If he was going to win you over, it would need to be something extreme. Something that said all the words you would not let him get out. 

At this point he was willing to take down a Palulukan if that is what it took. 

He snorted at the thought. It may have been a few years since hunting on Omatikaya soil but he knew that thing would have him torn in two. Maybe then he would get your attention, whatever remained of his body finally being enough to crack your tough composure. 

And then….

What started out as a ridiculously funny thought transformed into a new idea. A new plan. There was in fact one place that you could not run away from. 

The healer’s tent had been slow in mid afternoon but luckily you were the only one on duty. When he walked through the tent flaps reverently, not bothering to hide the wince as his freshly torn up skin brushed the fabric, your lips parted. For a moment it seemed that concern swam in those beautiful eyes but then they were turning back into cold steel like that night at the festival. 

“Kind of underestimated the swoop-”

He was cut off by your stern point to the space in front of you. He followed obediently but on the way he couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your exquisite form. He had meant what he had said that first night. You were more beautiful than the day he last saw you, a goddess-like creature even his wildest dreams could not have imagined. 

Today you wore a turquoise top made of small beads that were strung together to hang like vines. The color reminded him of the waters in Awa’atlu. Could that be your favorite color now? If so, he knew of so many places such gems and shells of that color. He could collect more for you. The beads mocked him, however, as their light weight cover just barely fell over your pretty nipples, one breath away from revealing the prize. 

Hell, he was sure the right puff of air from his lips could push away those teasing beads. 

As you began to work on applying ointment to his wounds Lo’ak forced himself to look away. However, he couldn’t find reason to not occasionally peak back and get a look at your pretty face. By Eywa, it was a true miracle that no one had snatched you up yet. Maybe he would thank the Great Mother for that gift at the Tree of Souls later. 

At one point your diligence fell and strayed from the wounds to glance at him instead. He flashed a grin, one that didn’t match the state of his bloody back. You shoved his head to look forward roughly but he had already caught a glimpse of your rosy cheeks. 

“You got injured how again?” 

“Flying error, it’s been a while. Why?” 

“No reason.” 

Silence fell and Lo’ak had to keep himself from fumbling with his messy bun. You may be difficult now but one thing was still true. You always wore your heart on your sleeve. 

“You don’t have to be worried, sevin-”

A sharp smack to the back of his head and Lo’ak couldn’t hide his surprised laugh. 

“Damn, you’ve got a pretty good backhand.” 

“Hush. I am trying to concentrate.” 

It was sure to be a lie. His wounds were nothing in comparison to what you must have encountered during the war and with your experience you would have him healed and out in a few minutes. But then that meant he only had a very small window to squeeze this apology into. 

“Don’t worry, I will behave.” He raised his hands in surrender but received only a little hum from you in response. “But while we’re here there is something I’ve been wanting to say.” 

Lo’ak hissed when the ointment was applied harshly to his deepest cut. It was nothing he couldn’t handle after so many war wounds but it did manage to lose him a few seconds of precious time. Had that been your intent?

“When we were kids I was…an absolute skxawng.” No argument came from you and Lo’ak glanced back from the corner of his eye. “I was more than a skxawng actually. I was reckless and angry and I didn’t even think about how my actions would affect others. Especially you and-”

“I don’t care. It is done.” Without Talu’s presence there was no incentive to dampen the ice in your voice. 

“Y/n,” He called your name softly, turning to grab your wrist and stop the movement. “I am sorry. I never should have hurt you like that. I knew better, especially….” He let out a deep sigh through his nose. “Especially considering how much I truly did love you.” 

You yanked your wrist back as if his grip was red hot. Scrambling away slightly, he could see the control you had over the moment slipping. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to push it further, get you to accept his apology. 

Unfortunately for him, Eywa must have decided that it was also the perfect time for the next healer to enter the tent. 

“There were hardly any herbs left by the river. Next time we try the mountains instead.” Penyau said, the smile on her face slowly dropping once sensing the tension in the room. 

“Great. Lo’ak needs patching up, sister.” 

“Oh, well then-”

“No, no. Y/N is already on it-”

“I’m passing you over.”

“You truly don’t care to finish healing the Na’vi that was put under your care?” Not the angle he wanted to take, but he was panicking. So desperate to get a few more minutes with you that he had to stop himself from using his grandmother as a scapegoat to keep you here. 

From the way your jaw clenched and tail curled he knew those cards would not have played well for him. 

“Talu is waiting. I leave.” You gritted out. Not a second to make another attempt or ever apologize before you were past the threshold and leaving him in the dust. Or at least, leaving him with Penyau who looked confused but more than happy to assist him. The smile she gave, however, did not hold the same sweetness as yours.

Or at least the smile he remembered from all those years ago.

He prayed he would see it again soon. 

A part of you wanted to insist upon staying home. Well no, all of you wanted to insist but if there was one thing you had learned from working with Mo’at is that there was no hope in defying her. If she saw it fit to bring you to the council meeting then that is exactly what you would have to do. Jake Sully was back as Olo’eyktan and with that came his sons’ attendance too. You were not foolish enough to hope otherwise, but there would surely be others there you could occupy your time with.

Even Tarsem had become a close friend of yours, as close as a clan member can dare to get to an Olo’eyktan, but conversation would be light and easy with him. If you were lucky perhaps you would be able to leave the meeting early as your sector of concern was far more narrow, giving you a chance to escape the inevitable small talk afterwards. 

Luck, however, was not on your side. It seemed that Mo’at had deemed you her scribe for the meeting and that meant taking up every single detail presented. It was borderline impossible with the way Lo’ak’s eyes constantly strayed towards you. You’d think the male would have the decency to keep his staring at a minimum for public appearance.

Of course Lo’ak had never been afraid of attention.

That trait evidently had remained with him after all these years. 

“Morning shift can circle northbound while overlapping with the afternoon watch.” Jake continued, using a twig to draw over their makeshift map in the dirt. It felt like he was speaking another language with the way your brain refused to concentrate. Jake might as well have switched into English with the rate you were comprehending. 

“Lo’ak and Neteyam will be available by the end of the week once everything is settled in.” 

You were so lost at this point it wasn’t even funny. Mo’at was going to have your head. As if sensing your confusion, the younger Sully brother said softly, “yes, for teaching.” 

It didn’t clear things up much but Lo’ak had decided to start tying his hair back up into that damn bun again and you found yourself more dazed than in the beginning. Out of pure will power you resisted the urge to watch him dead on, unlike him. Watching those biceps stretch as he worked to wrestle those braids was still possible from your peripheral. 

Another twist in your stomach. 

Lo’ak relaxed backwards, long legs stretched out in front of him as Jake Sully continued his long speel. The meeting could have dragged on for centuries for all you knew and yet that twisting coil in your stomach never loosened. You felt like you were about to snap when the Olo’eyktan finally called for dismissal. 

Up to your feet in a matter of seconds, Mo’at shot you a strange look. The tips of your ears burned as you tried to play it off and wait patiently for her. The meeting may have been over but that didn’t mean you were meant to leave her side. Most likely she would have other work for you to accomplish this afternoon and even if not it would be rude to not walk your Tsahik back to Home Tree. 

“I’ve got it, grandmother.” Lo’ak easily switched Mo’at’s basket over to rest on his own hip. She gave him a nod and pat on the shoulder. 

Swinging the netted bag of herbs and medicinals over your shoulder you focused primarily on the path ahead. 

“Let me get that, sevin.” Lo’ak reached for your bag but with flaming cheeks you barely managed to deflect his advances and snap away. 

The effort was pointless however when Mo’at gently grabbed the bag from your shoulder and handed it to him. An almost imperceivable smirk graced her lips at your perplexed expression but otherwise she remained silent. Slightly baffled and now avoiding Lo’ak’s unrelenting attention you veered to pick up the pace. 

Now that he held your bag hostage there was no choice but to let him follow you both back to the healer’s tent. At least that’s what you thought until….

Mo’at let out a tired sigh and that was all it took for Lo’ak to insist she go home and get some rest. He assured her he would get the supplies back to the tent and walk you home safely, both actions that made you glare at him over her shoulder. The Tsahik, tired or not you couldn’t be sure, bid you farewell and gave her grandson another gentle squeeze to his shoulder. 

The second she was out of sight you went for your bag. Lo’ak easily swiped away from your grabbing hands.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” 

Despite his warm smile he was only met with unspoken annoyance that seeped into the atmosphere’s tension. If he wanted to walk you home, fine, but you were going to get it done in record time. Without another word you scrambled up the nearest tree, deciding to take the overhead route to avoid traffic. 

You could hear the clanking bags and basket as Lo’ak had to find ways to follow behind with only one arm to propel himself upwards. You secretly resented the way he managed just fine, despite the obstacle, long legs rushing over branches like they had only left the forest for a day.  

“Is your plan to avoid me forever?” 

Teeth grinding together you grabbed hold of another branch over head and propelled yourself up the next level. This time was more of a struggle, several vials almost falling out of the basket but that only earned him one concerned glance before you were striding forward once more. 

“I meant what I said yesterday. I truly am sorry.”

“Yes, I heard you.” The tempo you set with your feet borderlined running. Lo’ak’s struggle became ever more apparent as the two of you scaled higher. 

“Well yes I know that…shit!” A vial slipped from the basket, Lo’ak immediately lunged to catch it. You carried forward, trying not to think about how he almost lost the precious herbs that took you weeks to find and gather. “Got it!” He called but you were already several branches above. 

With this head start you may just be able to outrun the Omatikaya prince and make it home safely. 

Distant curses sounded from below followed by scrambling feet. 

When will he ever give up?

It’s hard to say what Lo’ak did during his time with the Metkayina but you were surprised, and slightly displeased, to see how capable Lo’ak had grown in his tree climbing. Although, now he had found a way to shimmy himself up a trunk with only his muscular legs to aid. The sheer athleticism required to do such made your head spin and cheeks heat.

Straight home. 

No detours. 

“Y/N, wait up.” 

He was closer than you would have liked, no doubt a result of your short attention span. 

“Come on, sevin. Does your determination to ignore me really warrant all of this?” 

Your temper was always an easy one to flare and when it came to Lo’ak Sully it seemed he had written the manual on how to light that flame. Turning on your heel, Lo’ak had to grind to a quick halt in order to avoid running into you again. It felt all too familiar to the celebration the other night so this time you spoke before he had a chance to get a word in. 

“Maybe so, but what does it matter to you?!” Nostrils flaring and breathing heavily it was no longer possible to hide how fast the male had gotten under your skin. 

“It’s admittedly more difficult to court a woman that won’t even let me be in her presence.” 

The savage words on the tip of your tongue stuttered and your treacherous body rippled with excitement. 

“You aren’t courting me.” 

“Well, I suppose that’s fair. I technically have not initiated courting yet.” 

“No Lo’ak, you will not court me. Ever.” Words like unbending steel the male’s eyes locked with your own and this time you found ways to not balk under his attention. When it seemed that nothing else was going to be said you turned on your heel once more. 

And then Lo’ak finally spoke. 

“I don’t see how you could stop me.” He murmured gruffly but the words immediately struck your temper like daggers. A bullseye shot. 

“Lo’ak Te Sulli-”

“Sevin, just listen for two seconds!” 

“Do not call me that!” Your voice hitched into a higher octave. 

“I’m sorry I just-”

“NO!” Your shriek echoed over the branches. Heated venom coursed through your veins. “You push and push and push but I am sick of hearing it!” More words threatened to fly free but your heart was already pounding at your ribcage. Stay one more second and you were sure to find yourself saying much more than you ever cared to.

“I’m not going to give up.”

Those bubbling truths refused to be swallowed any more.

“You say that now, Lo’ak, but just wait. Soon you will grow tired of chasing after me and when you do there will be a plethora of women waiting at your beck and call. Just like before there will be another woman to entertain you where I could not.” 

Lo’ak’s eyes blew wide and tail dropped to the floor but even then it would only be a few seconds before he made another pleaful attempt. And you couldn’t take any more of that. Those golden eyes covered by his signature two braids already beseeched your forgiveness far too easily. 

“And once again you will go to her.” 

He called your name as you left but you were already scrambling to safety. 

It was going to take a grand gesture. One that would prove his loyalty to not only you but every Na’vi in the clan. Your forgiveness was not going to be an easy thing to win over but that was okay. Lo’ak had dealt with far worse for so much less. Enduring some verbal bashing and humbling circumstances was the least he could do to win the woman of his dreams. 

And yet…it still hurt. 

The way you shut him out, not letting him learn even a morsel about the girl he had been missing for years. How much time had he spent imagining your reunion? Perhaps all of his dreams and hopes had clouded his sense of reality because now he stood here with only a shattered fantasy left. He had fooled himself for too long, thinking the past could be something swept away with the turning of time. 

He had wounded you too deep for that.

So much deeper than he had ever let himself accept. 

With a heavy sigh Lo’ak commanded his heart to settle. Today he could not afford doubts to plague his mind. Everything from here on out had to be intentional, had to send a message. Your discerning eye would be sharper to him than any other potential suitor that would court a woman. Each move would be assessed and either take him closer or further away from holding you in his arms again. 

He checked over the supplies one more time, finger slipping into the pouch attached to his loincloth. Everything was in place.

“We can’t be late.” He reminded Neteyam, messing with his bun until he was satisfied with the way it sat.

“Someone is eager.” Neteyam's lips curved upwards as he leisurely took another bite of yovo. “Usually I am the one rushing us out the door.” 

“Things can change. I can be responsible too.” He shucked Neteyam’s bag over his own shoulder, ready to leave with or without his brother. 

Neteyam rolled his eyes, heaving himself up from his seated position. 

“Yes but what good is it without her here to watch you do so, baby brother?” His fingers barely touched Lo’ak’s braids before the younger brother was swooping away and swatting at his arm. The death glare sent his way only made a deep chuckle rise in Neteyam’s chest. 

Neteyam’s jesting was all in good fun but Lo’ak was far from in the mood to look at things that way. Over and over your words from the other day had echoed in his head. Your tone was drenched in steel cold enmity but even that couldn’t mask the pain that was seated in your golden orbs. His own childhood recklessness had put him at this point and now it was all he could think about. 

Setting things up for today’s lesson, however, had helped. It gave him an outlet, some way to use these swirling emotions and put them into something useful. Lo’ak Sully was not one to give up easily, no matter what you said. 

Gun to head Lo’ak would not be able to recite a word of what his brother spoke as they walked to the lake’s edge. The pounding of his heart was far too loud and it seemed his attention didn’t matter anyways when Neteyam’s own was easily captured by your sister. Without so much as a goodbye, he stalked towards the female Na’vi and left him behind. 

The rocks were littered with various warriors and clan members in his age group. His father had thought it would be best to keep it within a demographic that they could relate to, make these lessons more personal. And yet Lo’ak had never felt more out of place. At one point in time these people had been his peers but things had been so different then. A time that was hard to remember, like a distant dream. 

Only the memories of you had not been tainted with the passing of time. He blamed all of those days at the reef where his head had been filled with thoughts of you. It was hard to forget the one his heart longed for. Even his fling with Tsireya could not erase the mark you had left on him. 

He finally caught sight of where you were perched next to another warrior. 

Your eyes only skimmed over him for a second before turning away.

You thought that it was only a matter of time or opportunity before he would be swept away and wooed by another. Perhaps if you were right things would be so much easier. And yet the tug of his heart always brought him back to you. His inability to move on was not from a lack of effort. 

So many one night stands and summer flings only for every single one to feel hollow and robotic. 

You couldn’t have known that, however, and it was Lo’ak’s job to find a way to prove it to you.

There were a million different excuses you could have conjured up to avoid these lessons. Some of them had almost slipped out this morning as Talu babbled on about how excited she was to see the eldest Sully son. However, you were mature enough to face the hard truths. Coping out now would be negligent to your duties as a useful clan member. If Olo’eyktan found it vital that the next generation learned about underwater diving then it was your responsibility to add those skills to your arsenal. 

It had been a couple days of successfully avoiding Lo’ak and now it seemed such a shame to break the streak. You refused to let those pesky thoughts bother you today however. You were her for one purpose and one purpose only. Master the art of free-diving and return to your new found peace and quiet. 

Naturally Lo’ak was greeted with quite the welcoming party, Na’vi females coaxing him over to hear about his travels. Rolling your eyes you prayed that Neteyam wouldn’t catch wind of your sour demeanor. All your worries were for not. His charming smile never strayed from your sister. Talu was skilled at putting up a calm front but you knew her well enough to sense that she was bubbling from the inside. 

You were going to hear about this conversation all night. 

Relief was temporarily found when the lessons started and instruction was finally given. The water was cool against your heated skin and you enjoyed the way it made your hair dance. Drill after drill you struggled to hold your breath longer. It felt as if your lungs were about to explode as you tried to suck in more air before plunging in again. 

Lo’ak and Neteyam would demonstrate then invite the crowd to mimic while they inspected and instructed along the way. It helped that you were not the only Na’vi who had no natural inclination towards these talents. Many came up to the surface choking on water and pushing hair from their face.  The lake looked more like an active river with the pulsing waves and splashes that emitted from every corner.

You had to give the brothers credit. No matter how ridiculous you all must have looked they never let themselves show visible signs of judgment or even laughter. 

It was far too easy to find Lo’ak in the midst. Even underwater he moved with a grace and calm that seemed so unlike him. It felt as if the water swirled to make way for him. He moved in sync with the pulse of Na’vi-made waves, cresting over them like a dance. Muscular frame floating through the abyss, he was a work of art among flailing limbs. 

He looked relaxed enough to fall asleep. His descent deeper was treated like an afternoon stroll. Your own dimming supply of air faded into the background as you found yourself swimming down after him. It was hard to keep up. Every long stroke of his was at least four of yours and still it felt as if that distance only grew with every passing second. 

He reached the bottom with one last kick, fingers carting through the various stones that lay there. Your brows furrowed as his own expression remained unperturbed. Finally a small smile broke loose when he caught hold of one rock in particular. It shimmered even in the daylight and Lo’ak made quick work to tuck it into the pouch at his side.

The first convulsing of your empty lungs was what broke you out of the trance. Lo’ak and his rock hunting was completely forgotten as your body screamed for oxygen. Now your turn to flail helplessly, you clawed towards the surface. Your lips pressed together, trying to focus on not giving into the urge of letting water in. 

How had you gotten so far down here in the first place?

The water’s surface looked so close and yet every kick only seemed to make it further away. It was an optical illusion that had your fear spiking with every second you couldn’t take in air. You hardly registered the strong arm that wrapped around your waist until your convulsing body was flying through the water. 

It was a miracle your own legs didn’t tangle with Lo’ak’s as they kicked out, but he had both of your bodies plunging upwards at a speed you could barely register. It seemed that your lungs simply could not get enough oxygen when your head finally broke through the surface. Your lungs still convulsed and your throat seized at every gasping breath.

“Just breathe. Nice and slow.” His deep voice tickled at your ear. Na’vi parted as you were floated over to the nearest shore. “There you go. In and out.” 

It seemed like a simple instruction but your body refused to snap out of panic mode. Fingernails digging into his forearms you tried to dislodge the residue water from your lungs. One arm under your back and another beneath your bent knees, Lo’ak easily carried your shaking body onto shore. He sat down, gently settling you between his parted legs while cooing encouragement. 

“Just focus on one breath at a time. Come on, do it with me, sevin.” His chest inflated against your back before slowly exhaling. You followed his lead. “That’s it. Try to breathe from here.” He placed his palm against your diaphragm. Eager to diminish the embarrassment that was creeping in, you zeroed in on acing his request. 

Breathing this way felt more physical, stretching your lungs to a point you didn’t know they could reach but every exhale brought your heart rate one further step down. 

“Very good.” 

The praise washed over you like a warm flame. Finally it felt as if your body was complying with your wishes, relaxing back against his chest. Your earlier fears of drowning were quickly reshaping to seem as nothing more than overreaction. Relief was sweet.

“Slow your heart.” Lo’ak purred, tucking his chin over your shoulder as he placed one hand over your collarbones. It was dangerously close to where your breasts rose and fell. 

With one swipe of your cupped hand through the water you had successfully catapulted water at his face. You dislodged yourself from his snuggling before sending him a dirty look and stomping off. 

Maybe that trick worked for him back with the Metkayina girls but you knew better than to fall for his charming traps.

“Sister!” Talu shouted, darting past the crowd. You could see in the distance Neteyam standing waist deep in the lake, right where your sister had left him. “By Eywa, are you alright?” 

Talu wasted no time in turning you back and forth in order to scour for injuries. Although still winded you did your best to ease her concerns. 

“Mawey, I am fine.” A sharp slap to the back of your head made you hiss in surprise.

“Then what were you thinking?! Diving down like that without any experience! That was not a part of the drill!” Her nose scrunched in the way it always did when giving you a scolding. 

“I know I just was…checking something…” You trailed off, feeling the heat of his gaze upon the back of your neck. 

“Neteyam says that you’re not supposed to dive like that even after a few weeks of training. We have to start with the shallow-”

“I know! I know!” Your groan only earned you another glare.

“Don’t scare me like that!” 

It was not a new experience to see Talu worked up. With your parents gone she was used to taking over as your caretaker and protector, although you were far beyond the years of needing such things. Regardless she had a knack for worrying. Yet another reason you had elected to never tell her about your history with Lo’ak.

“I am sorry.” It was nothing more than a mumble against her shoulder when she pulled you close. 

“Thank the Great Mother Lo’ak was there.” She sighed and from over her shoulder you could see where he was now directing another Na’vi female who struggled to make it across the space with one glide. 

“Yes, very lucky.” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes.

It would have been rude to leave the lesson without joining in on the following social. Or at least that is what Talu claimed when you tried to retire early. Of course you had ulterior motives for expressing how tired you were but it was not a lie either. No matter how many times you had pushed yourself to suck in greater air, to make it one more stroke, you could never get past a certain threshold. Determination and anger had only swirled higher whenever you saw Lo’ak dance through the water. 

The entire ordeal had left you feeling defeated. The sooner you could crack the code on diving the sooner you could retire from these lessons. There was no denying however, how good the fire’s glow felt against your wet skin. Everyone huddled in a circle around the fire. Talu was more than happy to accept the seat Neteyam had saved for her. 

If it weren’t for the fear of looking over eager you were sure she would have already been snuggled up against him for warmth. Despite your animosity towards the younger Sully brother you were happy to see Talu courted by such an honorable warrior. He gave appreciation and chivalry freely, just in the way she deserved. 

You opted to take a seat at the edge of the circle, sitting close to Panyau. There was great entertainment to be found in the way some of the females slumped in disappointment when Neteyam focused his attention primarily on Talu. It took a hand to your lips to mask your giggle when one female’s tail dropped after Neteyam rejected her offering of drink. 

Lo’ak was not exempt from the same attention, although he strategically placed himself among other male clan members. Perhaps it was all in your head but it appeared that for once he was getting sick of the limelight. It didn’t last for long however because sooner or later the brothers were pressed to share stories from their time with the Metkayina. 

“A full grown Na’vi and he’s never flown?” Matutke questioned in disbelief, many other Na’vi mirroring his same perplexed expression.

“Never. I swear I saw his soul transcend to Eywa at first lift off. Think I still have the mark from where he dug his nails into my shoulder.” Lo’ak grinned, sounding a chorus of laughter through the crowd. 

“He cried almost as much as you did your first time, baby brother.” Neteyam quipped, reaching over to squeeze the back of Lo’ak’s neck. His younger brother glared and rolled his eyes as laughter rung through the forest but he surprisingly didn’t offer a comeback. 

Conversation ebbed and flowed easily among the group, old friends connecting once more. You found yourself even becoming content to sit by the fire’s glow with such jovial interactions taking place. It was nice to take the backseat and enjoy some much needed rest. Even being around Lo’ak was bearable as it seemed he had finally given up on bugging you. 

That is, until things took a turn.

It all started with one of the male’s, Pe’ku, teasing Lo’ak about the new gems and shells woven in his hair. Lo’ak had playfully glared at him as his friend yammered on about how it looked as if he had taken half the reef back with him. 

You did your best at tuning out the conversation when one female jumped in to defend him, talking about how particularly pretty the blue gem in his hair was. Sleep threatened to take over as Lo’ak explained how rare these pieces were, having to dive down to the deepest depths to retrieve them. Eyes rolling and head resting on your bent knees, you prayed that Talu would be ready to leave soon. 

The sudden oohs and aaahs when Lo’ak pulled something from his side pouch were like lullabies to your tired ears. 

And then your tail peaked with awareness. The group had grown silent and the weight of many eyes bore down on you. 

“Huh? What?” You stammered, head finally lifting to take in the scene with confusion. A few giggles laced the crowd and Lo’ak gave you a crooked smile.

“Could I talk to you for a minute?” He asked gently.

“What? Why?” The sudden beam of attention surrounding you caused unease to settle. 

Lo’ak gave a nervous laugh.

“Or I suppose I could ask here.” Tails and legs shifted out of the way as Lo’ak came to kneel before you. It was only then that you noticed the shimmering object in his right hand. “I started making this a few months ago, beginning when I first started to have hope of returning home.” 

He laid the long necklace carefully over his thighs. These glimmering pieces were unlike anything you had ever seen and much like the blue piece in his hair, it danced under the fading streaks of the day’s light. However unlike the small piece in his hair these ones tarried among different colors. A kaleidoscope of rainbow that would never stay the same shade for long, prancing with every different bounce of light. Intricately woven into the shape of a bodice that reminded you much of the stretching branches that reached for the sun. 

“It was the first time I had ever let myself imagine what it would be like to come back here. To see you again.” 

The swirling gold specks in his eyes trapped your own wide eyed stare in a vice like grip.

“I thought about you every time I dove down to retrieve a piece. It was the only piece in Awa’atlu that held a flame to my memory of your beauty. Looking at the woman you have grown into today I see that it is greatly insufficient as a comparison.” A short laugh accompanied his last sentence. 

The knot in your stomach flipped into acrobatics that had your heart pounding.

“For now this is all I have to offer as a courting gift. This and my vow.” The four fingered hand that rested on your thigh was warm, sending a jolt of electricity racing upwards. “Never will a day go by without my heart being full of love for you. Never a morning where I don’t ask myself what can be done to make you smile, to bring light into your life.To my dying breath I will protect you.”

It hit you then the specificity of this audience. At the sight of drooping females’ tails and piercing gazes of other males you realized that this was the mating pool. Your peers and potential suitors were all gathered here. And with them, every doe eyed female that had chased after Lo’ak since his return.

“I can not call you mine, at least not yet, but I do believe that Eywa has given me another chance to fight for that right. To fight for the honor it would be to reside by your side. So with my intentions clear and heart set I ask you to accept this first courting gift.” 

The following silence was deafening. It felt as if every second ticking by was one step closer to the bomb in your chest exploding. The group enveloped you like quick sand, each lean closer tightening around you in a suffocating grip. 

So when a small “yes” escaped your lips, you blamed it on the need to breathe. On the need to escape the borrading questions that would inevitably follow your rejection. 

You were willing to blame it on anything. 

Anything but the twinkle of excitement that struck you the second Lo’ak’s wide grin fell into place. 

A/N: It has been so much fun to see y'all's reaction to this random little series I started. Please don't be shy! I love hearing your thoughts! It motivates me to keep writing<3

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @pandoraslovesworld @faintfill @rivatar @neteyamssyulang @mashiromochi @justcaptiannoodles @pocky444 @dayyzlol @kekunan @puddle-nerd @hazelwebsterboo2 @acerbicmoon @aesteticxsariana @haunting-venus @yawnetu @avatar4eva @baybaybear1 @nillikhyth @affinity101022 @tsireyasluvr @bambithewriter @delulumhaggy @kayfromthebay

[ellecdc]

single mom lily x fem!reader?

reader works in an ice cream shop and cute little harry (im imagining hes like 4/5???) absolutely adores the place so lily brings him in for ice cream all the time and falls for reader bc she is just so good with harry

ok here's my attempt 😮‍💨 thought this idea was so cute though!

single mum!Lily Evans x fem!reader meet cute

Lily was very lucky and very grateful that Harry had been a generally easy child. He was so much like his father that, whilst it didn't translate into the romantic relationship most parents wished to enjoy, led to a wonderful son and the best co-parent a woman could ask for.

And because Harry was such an easy-going child, she was trying very hard to stay patient with him as she frantically texted with James.

L: James Potter, where in the buggering fuck is this ice cream place that has ‘spiderman’ ice cream!? J: LOL oh god sorry. It’s on the boardwalk near the ferry. L: Thank you 😮‍💨 J: He making a fuss? L: I think we may have been moments away from a stage five meltdown. J: Thoughts and prayers 🫡

One meltdown avoided later and they were finally walking into the quaint, family owned ice cream shop on the boardwalk by the ferry, just as James described.

“Oh no!” Harry cried dramatically, holding his little hands to his face.

“What is it, Haz?” Lily asked, looking around to see what could have possibly caused such worry in a five and a half year old. 

“The man!” He explained.

Which explained nothing at all to Lily, still looking around the shop in confusion.

“What man?”

“The man with the spiderman ice cream! He’s not here!” Harry cried, turning to his mum with tears magnified by his glasses as they began pooling in his eyes.

She was racking her brain for something to say to the boy when a bubbly voice trilled from behind the glass ice cream displays.

“Hello there! What can I get for you two?” You greeted the pair with a beaming smile. If Lily wasn’t so caught up with Harry, she would have likely taken a moment to admire your radiance.

“The man!”

Lily watched as your smile fell only slightly and you tilted your head in confusion. “Which man, sweets?”

“The man with the special ice cream! He made it after my favourite superhero!” Harry cried with a stomp on his foot.

Lily pulled Harry towards her as she offered you an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry, he came here with his father last week and I-”

But like a beautiful ethereal angel sent from Lily’s own personal heaven, you waved her off with an easy smile. “Not to worry at all, love. My dad is the better ice cream server, so I understand your disappointment, little man.” You empathised. “But!”

Harry perked up at that, standing a little taller as he looked at you expectantly. “He did tell me that a certain hero may be coming in to look for some special spidey ice cream; could that be you?” You stage whispered the end of your sentence to Harry, causing him to squeal in delight.

“Yes!”

“Oh thank goodness.” You said with a dramatic sigh. “I thought I was going to have to erase your memory for giving away trade secrets!”

Harry squealed in excitement again and shoved his face up against the glass casing to watch you start expertly scooping ice cream, completely unawares of his fingerprints and foggy breaths creating more work for his newfound hero.

“How many scoops, my man?”

“Five!”

“Uhm,” Lily interrupted, placing a conciliatory hand on her son's shoulder. “Maybe just two.”

“Mum!” Harry whined, but you just laughed.

“Sorry kid, mum’s the boss.”

Harry acquiesced with one more groan, but grinned when he saw the size of the scoops you were serving him.

“What about you, mama?” You asked after handing Harry his cone, watching as the boy made his way to sit at a table with his red and blue ice cream.

“Is it really spiderman ice cream?” Lily blurted instead of answering your very normal, professional, and polite question.

You barked a laugh, but Lily was pleased that your laughter was because you found Lily funny rather than at her expense. 

“Between you and me,” you whispered conspiratorially, resting your arms on the glass counter and your chin on your hands. “It’s just moonmist ice cream, but this batch used too much food dye, so instead of the normal light blue, pale purple, and pastel yellow, it turned out a little more…super.”

Lily looked back to her son, happy as can be with his super ice cream as he watched boats sail by in the harbour. 

“Brilliant.” Lily whispered as she turned back to face you, only to find you smiling softly at her already.

“Yes.” You agreed, though Lily wasn’t quite sure what you found brilliant. “So, what can I get you?”

“Oh.” Lily responded dumbly, looking hastily through the options before opting for two scoops of rocky road. 

“Fine choice, m’lady.” You said before scooping, once again expertly, the frozen treat onto a cone.

“Is that what you usually get?” Lily asked suddenly. You seemed surprised at her question as your eyebrows migrated to your hairline and you looked up to consider her.

Lily hoped to all hell that her blush wasn’t as furious as it felt.

You smirked before your eyes flit back up to hers. “I’m more of a strawberry girl, myself.” You replied quietly, shooting Lily a wink.

If her blush hadn’t been furious before, she was certain it was now. 

Lily paid and Harry shot you a “thanks ice cream lady!” as they headed towards the exit with their ice creams in tow.

“You’re welcome, little man! Stay super!” You said with a wave.

“I will!” 

“Hope to see you and your mum here again soon.” You said quieter this time, sending Lily a kind albeit shy smile. Lily was certain you’d be seeing the two of them here again.