#but he was so lanky and wobbly like

[seiwas]

nanami rlly had such a glow up ngl

[mariasont]

Dress Code - S.R

a/n: got a little carried away with this one, but ugh just imagining spencer reid coming to my defense has me down BAD

masterlist

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pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of your skirt

warnings: fluff, a rando flirting/being rude with the reader, mini skirts 4 life, definitely not appropriate for work but spencer doesn't give a FUCK

wc: 1.5k

"Interesting choice of attire for the FBI," the man's voice commented as you paused in the midst of penciling in his meeting with Chief Cruz. "Isn't that skirt a bit... short?"

The man was tall, though not quite as tall as Dr. Reid. His hair, a dark shade that caught the light as he moved (more so because of the liberal amount of gel in it), was neatly trimmed, but it lacked the effortless charm of Spencer's curls.

You had unwittingly set a standard, with Dr. Reid as the benchmark. You tried to go on dates, to distract yourself from the boy genius, but those dates turned into a mental tally--he's not as smart as Spencer, not as kind, not as attractive. 

Maintaining an unshakeable smile, you stood up from your work area. "You think? I just love how it twirls when I spin!"

You demonstrated--the pleated hem of your pink tweed skirt billowing out around you. You wobbled on your heels, a giggle escaping you as you used the desk to steady yourself. Spencer's gaze followed your every move as you tucked a couple stray curls behind your ears.

Spencer intended to maintain a respectful distance, to grant you some space, but he found himself consistently drawn towards you, as if pulled by gravity itself. You were irresistibly captivating, and it wasn't lost on him that this allure undoubtedly affected others just as much.  

His gaze sharpened into a glare, almost tangible in its intensity, directed at the man who hovered too close in your personal space, eyes trailing where they shouldn't as the fabric of your skirt fluttered with your movements.

The agent let out a soft laugh, inching forward to prop his elbows on the desk's edge, his eyes subtly scanning your legs. "I'd wager it becomes quite the tactical distraction during interrogations."

"Oh, I don't go into the interrogation rooms, silly!" you laugh, a melodic ripple in the air, as you ease back down into your chair. 

You cross your legs, one over the other, the action accentuating the graceful lines of your figure, skirt settling into place with a soft rustle. 

The man's smirk broadened, his eyebrow lifting in a choreographed motion. "You don't say?"

Your smile is radiant, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm in his voice. You tilt your head, a soft gesture as you rearrange a vase brimming with colorful flowers on your desk--a thank-you from Garcia for the cupcakes you gifted her with last week.

"Yep! I'm the first face people see here, and I want to make sure it's a good one!"

He nodded slowly, a sly grin spreading across his features. "The first face, huh? I suppose with a view like that, it's hard for anyone to get past the front desk. But isn't it a bit distracting for the agents?"

"I believe it's all about focus. And our team has an exceptional ability to focus, no matter the environment."

It was a welcome surprise to watch Dr. Reid make his way toward you, his walk a familiar lanky stride that somehow managed to be both awkward and graceful. You like his tie today, still crooked, but charming, and it was decorated with blue stripes that trailed up the side. Despite the sharp lines of his suit, there was something so undeniably soft about him. 

"Dr. Reid, I..."

Spencer didn't let him finish his thought. "And speaking of work, I believe Chief Cruz is waiting on you for those files. Best not to make him wait."

You weren't speaking of work, but the agent was quick to excuse himself, nonetheless.

"He seems nice, doesn't he?"

Spencer's lips twitched, on the verge of breaking your idealistic bubble, but he stopped short, arrested by the sincerity shining in your eyes. The idea of spoiling your untainted perspective felt almost sacrilegious, not when your smile was so genuinely sugary it nearly could've brought him to his knees right then and there. 

"Yeah," he conceded, his eyes trailing over your complacent face. "Nice."

You looked down at your skirt, plucking at a thread that had come undone. "You don't think it's too short, do you?"

You stood, ensuring he had a complete view, your palms delicately pressing the fabric down. Spencer's eyes opened a shade wider, the unexpected display catching him off guard. The skirt's length--or lack thereof--left little to the imagination, your thighs on full display, but he'd keep that thought to himself, and with any influence he had, everyone else would as well. 

"No, it's fine, you look lovely."

"Lovely?" your eyes basically shimmered in this light, your chin gently resting in the curve of your palm as you fixed him with an intent stare. "That's high praise."

"Deservedly so."

"Dr. Reid, I'm blushing."

And you were, pink radiating across your neck and cheeks, but he was sure a similar rosy shade was coloring the tips of his ears.

You rose from your chair, circling the desk to position yourself directly in front of him, close enough for him to detect the light scent of Dubble Bubble on your breath. He, almost instinctively, found himself leaning in your direction. 

"I just love how it feels," you noted, hand brushing against the cloth. "It's so soft, see?"

You extended the hem of your skirt towards him. Spencer's hand hesitated, then tentatively touched the fabric, clearing his throat in the process. He was even closer now, the scent of your perfume--what he thought was a mix of roses and a hint of citrus--engulfed him. The skirt was soft like you had said, but it was the warmth radiating from your skin that sent a jolt through him. 

His knuckles grazed against your thigh, whether intentional or not he really wasn't sure. His usual clarity wasn't up to par, not with you standing so close, looking so nice. The world seemed to spin when he was around you.

You let out a giggle, a soft and effervescent sound that seemed to steal the air from his lungs. "Do you see what I mean? It's like wearing a cloud."

His hand snapped back as if touched by fire, his face awash with a flustered glow. "Yes, it's...very soft," he managed, raking his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting to any point but your legs, the memory of its softness scattering his concentration.

You offered a beaming smile, naively unaware to the sheer havoc you wreaked on his senses. He needed to get back to work to prevent any rash decisions--like taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours right there, an act that would certainly mar his professional record. He also wasn't sure you'd appreciate that. 

As though you had plucked the thoughts straight from his mind, your fingertips brushed softly over his chest. "Goodness, I've been rambling on, haven't I? You probably have, like, super important stuff to do."

Your touch seemed to still the air between you, Spencer's breath hitching, momentarily losing his train of thought. "Oh, uh... well, no, it's actually kind of a slow day for me right now."

Your hand, moving from his chest to rest on his arm, offered a tender squeeze. "Oh, that's good, isn't it? You guys are always super busy, it's about time the universe gave you a break, huh?"

Just as Spencer opened his mouth to reply, you bit your lip, cheeks flushed with a sudden realization. "Oh no, I totally just jinxed it, didn't I?"

You quickly rapped your knuckles against the desk. 

Spencer cocked his head to the side, a bemused chuckle escaping him. "What?"

Your words bubbled over with delight, closing the gap between you and Spencer until you were almost chest to chest. "Look at this, I'm the one who is teaching you something for once!" Your smile was wide and uncontainable. "So, knocking on wood--it's supposed to ward off bad luck or reverse a jinx, just like I might have done."

A myriad of scientific retorts teetered on the tip of his tongue, each one ready to debunk the notion of luck and its superstitious rituals. But those thoughts dissolved in the glow of your smile, as radiant and illuminating as an 1800-watt lightbulb. 

"Really? That's fascinating," he mused, his smile soft. "I'll have to remember that."

"Right? Oh, and don't get me started on finding a four-leaf clover. I swear it's lucky. I found one once, and I had the best day ever."

To him, it seemed like you didn't have anything other than good days, despite the statistical improbability. 

"I don't doubt it," Spencer replied with a knowing smile. Noticing the same agent coming out of the hallway, he excused himself. "Well, I'm going to get back. I'll, uh, see you later?"

"You know where to find me," you said.

As you spun to retreat to your desk, he offered a last, discreet glance at your skirt, more specifically the shape of your ass in it, before following after the agent.

"Walk with me, yeah?" Spencer suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was out of character for him, but the way his jaw tightened suggested he didn't care. Once the distance granted privacy from your ears, he stated plainly. "Her attire is not up for discussion. If there's a concern, I'm the one you talk to."

The remainder of his day passed just as slow, and in the back of his mind, he entertained the thought that he had your knock-on wood to thank for that.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[hazbin-honey]

Physical Touch (nsfw/minors DNI)

Alastor x Reader (GN)

**disclaimer: if you do not like nsfw content for Alastor- simply ✨do not read this✨**

The faint sound of static buzzed in the air as your fingers hesitantly reached out to unbutton the collar of the radio demon’s shirt. He had given you permission, of course, but a palpable tension hung in the air between the two of you since Alastor had asked you to do the honor of undressing him. Your fingers lightly grazed the exposed skin of his collarbone pulling a small gasp from him. Your eyes flicked up Alastor’s face and he had his ever present smile, although it seemed a bit tighter than usual.

“Don’t stop on my account,” He urged your fingers to continue their exploration in that fake transatlantic accent of his. With his permission, you unfastened the next button on his shirt, revealing more of his skin.

“Don’t be so shy, my dear,” Alastor spoke in a sickeningly sweet tone that seemed to be mocking your hesitancy, “I did say you could touch me.”

You made quick work of divesting him of the garment, unbuttoning the last buttons and then gingerly slipping the dress shirt down his shoulders. Alastor shimming slightly to assist you with the task of getting the lanky man out of his clothes. With a small tremor in your hands you lightly grazed your fingers against his chest, taking your time to feel his skin under your hands before working your way down his body.

“Is this okay?” You asked softly when you noticed Alastor’s fingers gripping the cushion of the couch below him as your fingers brushed against the skin of his abdomen gently. You gazed up at his face and saw that his smile seemed strained.

“Yes, darling,” He replied, his crimson eyes baring into yours with an intensity you were not accustomed to from Alastor. More used to him flitting around in a passive, dismissive manner. To have his full, undivided attention made you feel good, special even. “It is more than okay, please do continue.”

Alastor and you had been intimate before; however it mostly had been him touching you. Alastor was in control of all situations when it came to your pleasure and his. Not only were you in uncharted waters, but he was as well.

Your hand drifted down to ghost over the hardness straining against the fabric of his slacks. Alastor’s reaction was immediate, his hips bucked up against your gentle touch seeking more friction, his erection pressing eagerly against your fingertips. When you gave him an experimental rub, his eyebrows furrowed and he bit his bottom lip and his smile wobbled just slightly.

“Do you like this this?” You asked trying to be teasing, despite feeling your whole body light with excitement seeing Alastor unraveling before you. His fluffy ears were flattening back slightly as his hips involuntarily rolled against your hand seeking more of that delicious friction you had given him a taste of. The squeaking of Alastor’s gloved fingertips as the gripped the leather fabric of the couch became more pronounced.

“More,” Alastor’s voice came out raspy, unfiltered, “Touch me more.”

His eyes were tightly shut and his eyebrows were pulled down while his breath came out in pants. You were only too eager to oblige in his needs, your fingers gripping his erection through the fabric and rubbing up and down his shaft. A strangled moan he had been trying to hold back slipped between the clenched teeth of his forced grin.

“Please, more. I need more,” He whispered as his eyes opened slightly and he gazed down at where you were situated next to him. Never in your life did you think you would see Alastor beg for anything, but who were you to deny him?

“I’ll give you anything you want.” you replied

[violetashfall]

Clumsy Boy.

Where Carl is a wreck...

┊ ➶ ｡˚

!basically fem reader (No physical disc) - 3rd person!

Pretend Warnings;

Cringey

Carl is a complete loser in this !!

Got some notes at the end of the fic, just me complaining...

Carl Grimes had gotten significantly more uncoordinated after he lost his eye… his depth perception was not what it once was, and paired with the headaches and brain fog, his clumsiness only got worse.

He took offence to the way his eye deceived him, looking so insulted whenever a water bottle hit his lips before he could part them, how forks kept knocking against his teeth when he tried to take in food.

One person who always witnessed his struggles was [name], she couldn’t help but notice his stumbles and the empty grasps he made whenever he missed whatever he wanted to hold.

His clumsiness was ever-present in how close he got to her while talking and walking, always finding himself a few many steps too close. He tried to make it seem casual, he totally meant to stand foot-to-foot with her–He didn’t even notice when the rim of his sheriff’s hat hit against her head–and when he took those very slow steps back, they were so inconspicuous he might as well have been a ninja…

But of course, Carl was lying to himself, he looked like Bambi learning to walk on ice whenever he was with the poor girl who kept falling victim to his wobbly brain.

But [name] found it sweet – Carl looked so flustered when he accidentally wavered too close, how his lanky arm bumped into hers when they walked… his coordination skills only got worse when the sun came out, blinding his only good eye and making his foggy brain ache further.

It was how he ended up in such an awkward situation: He hated ladders with a burning passion now his mind was constantly dizzying. He had to climb one at the lookout post during the summer day, clinging close to the rung bars - focusing on not getting too woozy. [name] stood at the top, looking over Alexandria with her hand extended for him to take - the one he missed as he clambered to the top with the fear of a tiny puppy - for such a strong boy, he was acting like a kid terrified of heights, throwing himself into the lookout with zero grace and little self-preservation left.

[name] couldn’t dodge him quick enough when Carl tumbled into her, the crown of his head harshly knocking into her chin - making [name] freeze as the force drove her to bite her tongue. When Carl felt the clunk on the top of his head it was already too late, eye-level with [name] once his legs were fully straightened, already taking a tripped step forward and already hanging off her to stop his fall. Their noses hit each other and worst of all, their lips ungainly brushing together.

[name] pushed herself back and forced him upright in a split second, hearing his thick boots thudding against the floor as he stabilised himself. [name] fell backwards raggedly, tripping on her shoelace - his clumsiness was infectious apparently. Not only did [name] feel her sore teeth and hammering chin, but her lips were also buzzing like his had zapped an electric current through them. Her nose wrinkled at him, pure perplexity taking her face as she stared–

“Jesus, Carl!” She exclaimed like a bruised child, She was a bruised child; tasting that pinprick of blood that pipped out her bitten tongue, knowing she’d get a purple mark on her chin from his thick skull colliding with it. The one day he didn’t wear that stupid sheriff's hat… at least it'd cushion the blow.

Carl looked down at her, eye shot open and brain paused in a deep drowning feeling of mortification… and an upcoming migraine. “I’msorry–” His words spilt so fast they were incoherent, hands extended yet frozen by his sides - he had practically just attacked her–Thrown himself at her like she was a lake and he needed to hide from the wasps swarming his head–and it didn’t even work! His brain burned, lit ablaze by the thoughts in his head telling him he was an idiot, asking himself why it was always her.

“You sneeze on me yesterday and now break my jaw?” She whined dramatically, grumbling and pouty, cupping her chin and instinctively touching her lips. She gawped at Carl who's face was burning scarlet - not only had he been weird with her for months, hindering his progress with her at every turn by stepping on her toes or stabbing her with his fingernails when trying to hold her hand–something he was so embarrassed by he was timid to try again, especially after she began figuring out what his murderer name would be after he finally killed her–He had also just ruined his chances further by attacking her with his gracelessness.

“--I didn’t mean to,” Carl cringed at himself, heart pounding in his chest as he kept inwardly begging for the world to swallow him up right there, partly wanting to glare at her for bringing up when he sneezed on her - he had begged her to forget about it, he just wanted her to think he was cool. “Both times,” He muttered, “Any of the time–All of it.” He spilt, moving towards her with stumbled steps and fumbling arms. He tried to help her up - thanking god he at least held her hand with more ease this time.

He couldn't believe himself, he wasn’t awkward, he was outspoken and smart - but Jesus, he did not act like it... especially now, staring at her apologetically with a tight grasp on her upper arm as if she would flee if he let go, but in reality, it was to stop himself from falling to his face without her support, he felt dizzy.

“You’re fine,” [name] said, side-eyeing him as he helped her stand, feeling his hands shake against her. She usually found his clumsiness endearing, but she was startled this time, so much to process about that split second interaction. One thing [name] could tell was how by that tiny grimace on his face - one clouded by the most dorky, cringed, expression ever - that he was at the start of a migraine, and so was she if the pain in her chin radiated any further through her skull.

She started hoping their mistaken kiss would turn him into… well, just a Carl who didn’t keep colliding into her… but he wasn't a frog, and she was no princess, she scowled too much for it.

"You are fine? Right?" She asked, brows furrowing as she inspected his expression, seeing his jaw tight and eye squinted. "Just, Just a headache." He said, shaking his head and diverting his face further, not exactly wanting to look into her eyes when he was so mortified.

[name] huffed, Carl was back to his normal stubborn denial now, just with some extra embarrassment - he knew damn well she was about to tell him to take his painkillers, he'd give her that look as if to say 'Don't baby me' - he wasn't a child who needed to be reminded… but he couldn't bring himself to look at her after that colossal fumble, still flushed and awkward from basically kissing her. "I'm fine." He repeated, voice holding tenseness, something about how [name] stood quiet for a few seconds too long made him know she'd be teasing him soon enough for the massive blunder... he just wanted to get over it... and maybe smirk and kick his feet while thinking about how her lips briefly felt against his.

"...Why are you smiling?" [name's] brows furrowed further, watching Carl who held an expression mixed with pain, mortification and somehow cheekiness... his mind somewhere else for a moment.

Carl's eye widened when she called him out, looking at her as his tiny, dopey smile fell and got replaced with blabbering lips, "Shutup." He grumbled - getting ripped away from his lovey thoughts - about to let her hand go, yet he couldn't bring himself to, palm stuck to hers like glue, wanting to hold it too much to let it go.

(A/N) I hate writing in 1st / 2nd perspective so I just didn't... the use of [name] is pretty robotic but, hey... I have no defence. I kinda wanted to make this a 'neutral pronoun' fic but got pissy that my WiFi wasn't working so I didn't...

I just wanted to try writing fanfiction.. This was supposed to be a bot, and probably will still be. I didn't capture his character because I made him a dorky whump - I was in a silly mood!!

So yeah, first fanfiction, I felt like a completely stereotypical teenage girl writing this and I don't mind it.

[fattystoriez]

Jeremy just finished his freshman year of college and is now back home for summer break. Jeremy wanted to go on vacation with his friends, but his father told him he needed to come home for the summer to help him out. Jeremy hasn’t seen his father since winter break, even though his dad had been acting weird. Any time someone would go around him while he was on his phone he’d quickly hide his screen, so obviously suspicious, like he wanted someone to ask about it. The weirdness didn’t end, when Jeremy got home his father must’ve already gone to bed because he wasn’t anywhere to be found and his room was locked.

“Okay… I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jeremy says to himself.

Jeremy quickly moved his stuff in, stripped down to his boxers and got in bed. That night he had a very strange dream about an old man, old enough to be his grandpa, was rubbing his fat belly all over his bloated looking body. Jeremy gets up, almost immediately forgetting the dream, and his stomach growled. Jeremy got ready for the sad, threw on a grey tank top and black shorts. When he opens up the door, there’s his dad waiting to get into the bathroom… or what looked like his dad. Jeremy’s dad had always been lanky with a bit of a beer gut, but now it looks like his dad has been inflated. His belly padded with so much fat, his chest now a saggy pair of moobs, and his chin replaced by two wobbly double chins. He’s wearing a white tank top that doesn’t look like it’s fit him in years.

“Dad?” Jeremy asks.

“Yes, I’m your daddy” his dad now having a thick southern accent “I need to take a piss, boy.”

Why was his dad talking like that? Why is he so fat? “Dad what happened to you?” Jeremy said very concerned about his father’s health.

“I met me a nice trucker man a couple months ago, he came over and plumped your ole’ man up.” He said, patting his fat belly. “He couldn’t stay, I’m sure you would’ve loved him, boy.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to say, what to think… “Uh… okay?” Jeremy attempted to slip past his dad in the doorway. His dad immediately goes through the doorway as well, his big fat belly pressing Jeremy against the the threshold. “Dad… could you move your-“ Jeremy stopped talking as he felt something weird going on around his belly. “Dad-dy… please just let me go through…”

“Sorry boy, I just want to share my soft fat belly with ya… feel how soft it is son?” His southern twang making him sound oddly comforting.

Jeremy’s body began to rapidly gain pounds of fat. His once skinny figure has now produce a beer gut, as if Jeremy suffered from the Freshman 15. Jeremy continued to grow, his chest becoming supple tits resting on his now sizable belly. Jeremy’s jawline began to fade as fat piled on his face, a double chin forming to cover his neck.

“Daddy- please s-stop… I’m getting so fat” Jeremy said, his voice now having a slight southern twang. Jeremy couldn’t see the hair beginning to recede into his head, leaving him with a very obviously balding head.

“It’s okay boy, you’re looking like a real good son.” His dad starting to move into the bathroom, once fully inside Jeremy’s belly flopped outward over his waistband causing Jeremy to let out a moan.

“Oh daddy” Jeremy’s voice now fully sounding like a redneck, Jeremy began to play with his now blubbery body. All of his memories faded to become his daddies prized pig of a son, dumbing Jeremy down to fully get rid of the once fit college student.

“Go rest on the couch boy, after daddy takes this piss, he’s making you a big breakfast.” And with that, Jeremy will forever be his daddy’s fat boy.

[storydays]

Radio Killed the Video Star P2

(3rd Pov)

*In the Vs' Tower*

"We have a problem." Vox grumbled as Valentino's assistant passed out their drinks. "Alastor is getting close to the royal Morningstars. So our main concern now is ensuring that no deal is ever struck between Lucifer's brats and that smiling freak." He rolled his eyes at the thought of the red demon.

"Well, how exactly are we supposed to stop it?" Velvette replied, looking up from her phone. "Put something inside them. That's how I get the bitches to behave." grinned Valentino from where he was decorating his gun.

"Well, maybe someone on the inside isn't such a bad idea." hummed Vox before he pointed at the moth. "Do you think Angel would?"

"That lanky prick won't even return my calls." scoffed Val.

Sighing, Vox stood up and walked around to the window. "We need someone who little Miss Bleeding Heart would take in."

"Someone pathetic, desperate, with no direct ties to us." Velvette listed. "I employ every down on their luck loser this side of hell. Who the fuck is left?" Valentino wondered. Vox chuckled before turning to his partners with his hypnosis eye glowing. "I think I have just the one." he grinned.

*Back at the hotel*

Alastor's shadow demon minons lounged around the bar, Tommy stretching his arm, having pulled a muscle, when Charlie and Vaggie came back from their search, defeat written on their faces. Charlie groaned dramatically as she flopped onto the couch, face first.

Angel perked up hearing the princess; "Sooo, how'd it go?" he asked, smiling and turning his attention to his phone. "Not a single new recruit," Vaggie sighed.

"Yeah, well, who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting?" shrugged Angel. "More than you'd think, Angel." (Y/N) yawned as he walked down the stairs, Rocco trailing behind him.

After his mope feast in his room, the blond demon fell asleep reading one of his romance novels, and had slept for a good 6 hours. 'Great, now I'll be up all night.' (Y/N) thought to himself as he sat on the far end of the couch, running a hand through Charlie's braid in a comforting manner.

"Well, look who's finally awake. I missed you, baby. Did you dream of me, sweets?" Angel purred, leaning over to run a hand over (Y/N)'s wings, grunting when (Y/N) playfully fluffed his wings in Angel's face.

(Y/N) chuckled, feeling smug at finally getting the spider back. Angel wasn't one to be outdone, so he teasingly ran a finger between the prince's shoulder blades in the middle of his back, giggling at the involuntary shivers that ran through his body.

A sudden knock on the door turned Vaggie's attention from the men flirting, and approached the door, to reveal Sir Pentious, who smiled brightly. "Why, hello, my dear--" he yelped as Vaggie punched him in his face before pulling her angelic spear out and pointing it at him.

"Wait, wait, wait! I come in peasssse (peace)." The snake demon made peace signs with his hands with a wobbly smile.

"What are you doing here?" hissed Vaggie. "Vaggie, what's the problem?" asked Charlie, still feeling sour from her failed search.

She gasped seeing the snake. "Oh, hello again." Vaggie let him up as she watched him suspiciously. "I didn't come looking for a fight. I uhh..I heard that you're helping people. People who want to be better?" The snake asked more than stated.

Charlie gasped excitedly, before dragging the snake behind her, chattering happily, leaving Vaggie to scowl at the snake. "You heard right. Welcome to our home of healing. Our resort of restoration. Our--" The princess was cut off by Angel Dust stopping her in the door way.

"Are you fucking nuts? This chump was tryin' to kill us, like, literally 6 hours ago. And now you wanna bring him in her to live with us?" Angel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Absolutely!" Charlie grinned, "This place is about second chances, and who deserves one more than this...slithery...slippery...special little man?"

Looking at Vaggie, Angel asked, "Aren't you supposed to protect this place?"

Vaggie made the mistake of looking at Charlie's (well timed and manipulative) puppy dog eyes. She sighed heavily before shrugging, "I...guess he's not much of a threat without the war machine.." Sir Pentious' hood lifted as he grinned brightly, "Or even with the war machine." Vaggie thought, making the snake visibly deflate.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Charlie squealed before running over to the demon. "Sir Pentious! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!"

"Oh no, darling, thank you. You won't regret thissss." He chirped happily, slitheirng in after the princess.

"Eh, I give you a week...tops." Angel shrugged, following them inside.

"So..this is the bar and the bartender." Charlie grinned at a drinking, scowling Husk. "And this is the curtain, and this is the new wall after you broke the last one, heh and, oh, this, this is-" Charlie was cut from her excited rambling by Vaggie pulling her arm.

"Babe, you don't have to show him every detail." she placed her hand on her hip, watching the demoness.

"Sorry, I'm just excited to have our first real guest!" Charlie grinned.

"Uh, what the hell am I, then?" demanded Angel Dust, as he narrowed his eyes at Charlie.

"Well, you're an important part of our family here, Angel. But you um, uh..." "Constantly make us look bad, sexually harass (Y/N) and Husk, and have literally never once tried to improve?" Vaggie listed.

"What she means is, it's just nice to have someone be interested for a change." Charlie sugar coated, gesturing at the snake who eyed everything suspiciously.

She walked over to the red eyed demon, introducing Niffty, not noticing Angel's frown on his face. As Charlie continued to introduce Niffty, saying that they were 80% sure she was harmless, she bumped into the Radio Demon, she grinned nervously.

"Oh, uh, Alastor, our gracious Facility Manager." Turning to Alastor, she continued, "You've met our newest guest, Sir Pentious...heh heh."

"Ah yes. You're the one who ruined my coat. I definitely remember you now." He grinned sinisterly, eyes glowing an eerie red.

"Well...I guess this is a great time for your first lesson. Ahem, 'How to apologize.' The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you're wrong. Why don't you give it a try?" Charlie pushed Sir Pentious towards Alastor who grinned lazily.

"Yes, um...Mr um..Radio Demon, sir, please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat...Um, here." He nervously gave back the piece he'd ripped off of Alastor earlier in the day.

"Oh-ho! Not many people have been able to take even this much off me." He looked at Sir Pentious with a condescending smile, "It must've meant quite a lot to you."

Sir Pentious and Charlie watched with wide eyed looks as Alastor burned up the piece of coat with a wicked grin.

(Y/N) laughed loudly from where he was observing at the top of the stairs. "Pfft, hahaha! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you're faces were too much for me." He snickered, wiping a tear away from his eye, making his way down towards the group.

"Oh! And Prince (Y/N) he's also my big brother! He's also my advisor when it comes to business administration. And he's my bestest friend." The siblings shared a fist bump, sharing matching grins.

"Welcome to the Hazbin hotel, Sir Pentious. I've got to say, your machines are something to wonder at. I'd love to go over the mechanics sometime." (Y/N) held his hand out for a handshake, yelping when the snake hugged him, "Nobody's ever admired my skillssssss.! We are going to be great friendssss." sobbed Pentious.

Angel was now full on glaring at the snake...how dare he touch (Y/N) like that?! It took a while before (Y/N) allowed anyone new to touch him.

"Um..Charlie? Isn't it time for our daily activity?" squeaked (Y/N), clearly uncomfortable in the snake's grip.

*Time skip*

(Y/N) was sitting in his favorite arm chair, Angel Dust leaning protectively on his legs, letting the blond run his fingers through Angel's head fluff. It was so soft, he couldn't resist and Angel certainly didn't mind, if the slight purring the spider was doing was an indication.

Angel scrolled lazily through his phone, Vaggie and Pentious sitting on the floor listening as Charlie spoke.

"Now! With a new resident, I think it's important we all get to know each other, so we are going to play a little game. Everyone, follow me.

"🎵My name is Charlie," she claps twice and kneels down to smile at Vaggie's love struck look, "I like to sing," She stood up gesturing to everyone, clapping again. "And when we get to know each other, it's the greatest thing!🎵" Charlie clapped once more and gestured to Sir Pentious.

(Y/N) smiled; that was a game he taught her when she was a kid.

"🎵My name's Sir Pentious," claps twice, "I like to build," claps twice again, "And despite my stupid Egg Bois, I think I'm very skilled🎵." He clapped twice for the last time before he and Charlie both gestured to the white furred spider.

He stopped the quite purring, and looked up from his phone with a look of irritation. "This is stupid." Angel deadpanned. (Y/N) snorted softly as he brushed the white fur back.

"🎵This is not stupid!" Charlie claps twice with a forced smile, "It's just the game. Sir Pentious did it well, so now please try to do the same.🎵'" She twirled in front of Angel who sighed, pinching the bridge of his beak(nose).

"I am too sober for this." (Y/N) tugged his hair slightly in a playful warning.

"Ooh, harder, Daddy~" fake moaned Angel, yelping in surprise when the blushing prince actually tugged harder in retaliation.

"Well, get used to it and learn how to play. 🎵This is gonna be your whole day 🎵 ." Vaggie clapped twice with a smirk at the glare Angel sent her.

*Timeskip*

"Oh, I'm a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs. Now, where's an innocent kid I can sell crack to?" Angel read from the script, feeling like an idiot. He glared slightly as (Y/N) wore the biggest shit eating grin from where he was standing behind the others who sat on the couch.

Breaking character, he hissed at the prince, "Don't you say a word."

He was dressed like a homeless man, and Sir Pentious was licking a lollipop wearing a uniform. "Wow, who wrote this?" Angel asked aloud, smacking the script. "It's great, right. Keep going." Charlie grinned like a school girl.

The Italian sighed heavily before continuing, "Hey you." He faked called Pentious. "Who me?" asked the snake in a child like tone.

"Yeah, you look like a kid who could use some devil's dandruff?" Angel squinted his eyes, sliding a hand down his face in disbelief. "Oh, for fucks' sake."

"Not me. I have to go home and sssstudy."

"C'mon, kid, it'll make you cool like me...." Angel paused, hearing (Y/N)'s snickering, and felt his body drop at the dumbass script in his hand, "The crackhead."

(Y/N) couldn't hold it back anymore before he laughed loudly. He was laughing so hard, he fell on the floor behind the couch,tears pooling in his eyes from laughing.

The others' waited for him to finish, so they could hear the play. Charlie rolled her eyes at her brother with a fond smile. It'd been a while since he'd laugh like that. Angel smiled, hearing (Y/N) belly laugh. 'No, I'm supposed to be mad at him, right now.' He thought stubbornly, cheeks flushed.

"The only cool thing here is to sssay no to drugsss. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!" declared the snake proudly. (Y/N) finally finished his giggles, and was standing back up, watching with weary grin.

"Yes! Oh, bravo, bravo!" cheered Charlie as she clapped excitedly. "Wow, Pentious, at this rate, you'll be redeemed in no time."

"I-I'm going to bed." Angel announced, a funny tone in his voice. He walked away briskly, but not before (Y/N) caught his downcast face. He frowned thoughtfully before teleporting to who knows where.

Angel paused at the steps as he listened to Charlie, "I am so proud of you, Sir Pentious." He turned to watch the interaction. "That was amazing. That was beautiful work today." "Thank you, thank you. You like me, you really like me." preened the snake, bowing slightly.

In his room, Angel shrugged off the costume he was wearing, throwing it on his beloved pet pig, who snorted curiously before laying on his bed and curling on his side.

He pulled his phone out and scrolled through the voicemail he'd received.

Sighing, the spider demon clicked on a random one to listen, "Angel, baby, come home. It's not the same without you here. I miss you, come back." Val's voice cooed before turning angry, "Angel, you bitch, if you don't come home, you will be fucking greasy truck drivers for the next year."

"You fuckin' slut!"

"Hey, Angie, about earlier--"

"Kill your whole fucking fam--"

"Work's really stressful--"

"Little cocksucking piece of shit--"

"You actually think you can change?" The pornstar gasped, sitting up and watching the red smoke curl in his room as he listened to this voicemail. "Addict trash like you doesn't change. I'll see you soon, baby." Angel snapped out of his thoughts as his pig nudged him with his cold snout, looking for attention.

"Sorry, not now, Fat Nuggets." He apologized before heading downstairs.

*Downstairs*

Angel grabbed a bottle of alcohol and started chugging away. "Aah..." He sighed, before seeing a shadow move. "Huh?"

He followed the light to see a door open..and not just any door, the door to (Y/N)'s office was opened. (Y/N) usually was so careful about letting people in there, the prince only Angel himself and Charlie in there. But the blond demon wouldn't leave his office open so carelessly, so someone broke in.

He walked over to the door and peeked an eye in, gasping seeing Sir Pentious placing a camera in (Y/N)'s bookshelf.

"You slippery little shit!"

Sir Pentious yelped at being caught before turning to see the angry spider.

"You're working for the Vees? I fucking knew there was something shitty about you." Angel pointed an accusing finger at the snake who scoffed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, whorebug!" smirked Pentious before Angel growled and tackled him, starting a brawl.

Spoilers: Angel was winning.

"Get your aggressively average body off of me!" screamed Pentious, hypnotizing Angel.

"Fuck!" Angel screamed as he obeyed unwillingly. Sir Pentious hissed as he slithered away to the bookshelf to get some space. Angel narrowed his eyes approaching, just as (Y/N), Charlie and Vaggie appeared, the women who were clearly sleeping, yawned and watched them blearily.

"What's going on?" asked Charlie.

(Y/N) had a box in his hands, and he tilted his head. "Why the hell are you in my office, Pentious?"

"Oh, the door was opened and I was looking for you, Prince (Y/N), when this spider burst in here and attacked me!" "Yes, my door was open, because sometimes Angel keeps me company when insomnia hits us both hard. So I leave it open and we stay up together until we fall asleep." explained (Y/N), missing the knowing looks Vaggie and Charlie shared.

"This little bitch is a traitor!" Angel snapped, holding Pentious arm firmly.

"Preposterous, I would never betray you. You...are my best friends." lied the snake as he pulled Charlie and Vaggie into a group hug. He tried to hug (Y/N) as well, but last time he did, the prince threatened to skin him and let the cannibals from Cannibal Town eat him....alive with his Egg Bois as a side.

Safe to say, everyone was disturbed as (Y/N) made that threat with a smile on his face. Angel found it hot as fuck though...

"Uh-huh. Then explain this." Angel moved one of (Y/N)'s books aside to reveal a video camera, starting to record.

Pentious noticed the shocked looks from Charlie and Vaggie before feeling a dangerous glare at his back.

He shakily turned to look at (Y/N) who was grinning darkly, fangs glinted in the light dangerously; his eyebrow twitching in anger, mixed eyes glowing an deadly red. "Hmm, looks like I'll be following through with that threat after all." He set the box down, and started approaching the Snake.

"Ah! Ah! Abort! Abort! SOS Agent Pentious in need of immediate evacuation!" screamed the snake into a wrist watch as he tried to leave the wrath of the prince.

"Pentious? Wait...you were caught? It hasn't even been a day!" Vox laughed.

Pentious side eyed the hotel members who stood in front of the other exit. Vaggie was now wielding her spear, Charlie holding her hand over her mouth in worry, Angel crossing his arms, while one of his lower arms rested on (Y/N)'s upper back as a way of grounding the pissed off prince.

"Please, you've got to get me out of here!" begged the snake. "I can't believe we thought you could handle even something this simple. Do us a favor, if they don't kill you, go ahead and do it yourself, you miserable failure!" Vox screamed, short circuiting the watch.

(Y/N)'s malicious bloodlust calmed hearing how Vox talked to the snake.

Yes, he was an idiot..but no one deserved to be told to kill themselves. He looked down thinking of...them.

"I--Just make it quick I guess. Not that I deserve it." Pentious laid down sadly, waiting for someone to hurt him. "Gladly." Vaggie growled, before being stopped by (Y/N).

"(Y/N)?" asked Angel, watching the prince as he held a hand out to the snake. "Pentious?"

"Good first day." Charlie sighed happily, reaching a hand out to Vaggie as they walked to bed. "Let's get some rest."

The group walked out of the library, (Y/N) grabbing the camera to dispose of, Angel following behind him.

After a few minutes later, a shadow grinned before Alastor appeared in (Y/N)'s office and picked up the discarded watch, starting it with his powers.

"What?" snapped Vox before he realize who was on the other side. "You'll have to try harder than that next time, ol' pal." Alastor grinned, as Vox screamed on the other side, his laughter echoing in the TV demon's ears.

*With (Y/N)*

He'd pulled Angel out onto the private balcony that came he'd built for his room, the spider lounging on his favorite swing seat that (Y/N) made for him. The two continued to grow closer everyday, and since they hang out so much, the prince wanted the spider to be comfortable. (Y/N) appeared next to Angel, holding out a glass of a red wine with ice on top and an orange slice on the rim.

The Italian mobster raised an eyebrow at the drink. "Relax, it's a Balisteri Cherry Wine. You look like you could use it." (Y/N) showed the other glass in his hand, offering a soft smile when Angel took it. He then sat himself on the railing near Angel, one leg tucked under him, the other hanging over the ledge.

"I'm glad you're here Angel. I'm sorry it took so long for someone to say this but: You're very special, and I know underneath, there's somethin' special just waiting to be unlocked....you just need someone to help you unlock it. I'd like to be that person if you'd let me." (Y/N) blushed slightly before turning to the spider who looked at him with a soft look before replying,

"I'd like that."

*End! For the song, imagine it was a male Charlie singing..I could't find a male version yet.*

See you guys next time!

[thewulf]

Pretty Girl || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: So, the request/idea is an Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader where the reader is actually a criminology or psychology professor and is good friends with Spencer... Read Rest Here

A/N: Loosely based on one of my favorite story lines because I sat here for an hour trying to come up with a good enough story that’d stump Reid and failed. Mosely Lane. Doesn't get fluffy until the end. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.4k +

Dismissing the class for the weekend you sat back at your desk in the front of the auditorium strumming away at the keyboard. You heard the clapping before you saw him. Eyes crinkling a touch you smiled brilliantly at your longtime friend.

“Another excellent lecture Professor.” He grinned at you.

“Spencer!” You laughed shooting out of your seat hugging the tall lanky man tightly, “To what do I owe this visit to?” You asked after breaking apart from the hug.

His face shifted from one of joy to a downcast expression, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.” He sighed taking a seat on your desk, “We need some help.”

You nodded listening, “Go on.”

He looked down as if he was ashamed to ask for help. As if he should’ve been good enough to solve it. But nobody was perfect. Sometimes cases can get away from you. You’ve had it happen once when every decision you made was the wrong one. It was always awful when you realized you might’ve made a mistake that got somebody killed.

“Kids. They’re just kids.” His voice wobbled as he looked back up to you. You felt your heart clench at the voice crack, “Another child was found off the Potomac just north of here.”

Your cocked your eyebrow in curiosity, “A local case? How many children?” You asked quickly hopping from professor to profiler in your mind.

He drew a deep breath, “Ten.”

Your eyes widened, “Over how long?” That was a lot of murdered kids. Who in their sick minds could do something like that? You’d been around a lot of sick people in your years in criminology, but this was already coming to the top of the twisted pile. Killing kids was another level of sick you despised coming across.

“A year and a few months.”

Your eyes bugged even further, “Christ.”

He nodded solemnly tossing the case file down on your desk. He watched as you meticulously poured over everything the team had put together in two weeks. You hummed and hawed as you fingers ran across the pages. Reading everything.

“These poor babies.” You let out an equally defeated sigh looking at the pictures of the mutilated bodies of the innocent.

He hummed in agreement, “We can’t figure it out. Another girl just got abducted in the same way the last boy was. We just found his body. I’m missing something here. I can’t see it.” You looked up at him. He looked utterly defeated. Tired eyes gave way to the lack of sleep he’d been getting. Messy hair and wrinkled clothing also adored his figure.

“I’m in. Let’s go.” You shoved your laptop in your bag before closing the massive case file to read in the car.

He gave you a confused look, “Right now? Don’t you have to teach?”

You nodded, “I’ll cancel it. Let’s go. Time is ticking for the girl. First to the office.” Hurriedly, you stood next to him eyeing him to lead the way. He nodded seeing your seriousness, You followed him all the way back to Quantico after calling your Dean. It had some perks, being the Director of Criminology at Georgetown. It almost made you giggle it sounded so ludicrous.

You flashed your badge having consulted on a few cases for different departments of the FBI. Security let you through in a flash. You’d never worked with Spencer on an actual case of his. Hell, he’d normally figure it out before he’d ever dream of pulling an outsider into the team. But even he knew he was missing something. A puzzle piece he couldn’t seem to find. That’s when he thought of you. His longtime friend from postgrad. The two of you were ostracized early in your studies. You for being an incredibly intelligent female and him because he was a know it all. The two of you found each other and the rest was history. You stayed in academia while consulting on the side and Spencer went the FBI route. Luckily, you’d stayed in touch through all the years. You found it easy to love him as a friend once you knew how to deal with the boy genius.

“Team, this is Y/N. Y/N, the team.” Spence said quickly once he all but yanked you into the large conference room on the floor. Your eyes glossed over each of them quickly before falling to the one on the end. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and a smoldering look? Whew, he was just your type. He’d make you nervous. You didn’t see a ring on his finger as you scanned him from head to toe quickly.

You nodded bashfully. You could lecture hundreds of students but the eyes of six profilers right on you was rather intimidating, “Hello.” You nodded quickly walking over to the white board that listed intricate details of the case you hadn’t skimmed across in the file.

“Director of Criminology at Georgetown?” The handsome man stood next to you. A quick nod before turning your eyes back to the board.

“Yes, sir.” You cringed at your own voice sounding so unsure of herself. That wasn’t like you, not at all.

You noticed the hard stare turn to curiosity for a second before the stoic gaze returned, “Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief.”

Ahh, the infamous Hotchner. You had to admit it was almost fun putting faces to the names you’d heard from Spencer throughout all the years. At no time did he mention that Hotch was as striking as you’d found him to be. It never crossed your mind to find them online. It seemed too invasive on Spencer’s life but now you were second guessing that decision.

“Nice to meet you Agent Hotchner.”

He wasn’t being unfriendly, but he certainly wasn’t warm. You could tell he didn’t want you here but agreed out of necessity. They weren’t able to save the seven-year-old boy and Aaron was sure as hell not going to let the little eight-year-old girl meet the same fate because of pride. Even though it stung.

He didn’t reply though, only giving you a quick nod. He stood there rereading the same damn sentences he’d read over a thousand times over the last week.

“This is the order they were taken and killed?” You pointed to the wall seeing the boy-girl pattern curiously.

“Seven-year-old boy and then an eight-year-old girl every time. Over and over.” It sounded like the case had depleted him entirely. Haunted eyes scanned over each of the children’s faces. Helpless. All looking eerily similar too each other.

“And you all interviewed 21 suspects in northern Virginia.” You stated more than questioned as you looked up to the curious eyes. They were expecting you, but they weren’t expecting you.

The blonde woman nodded with a gentle look settling on her face, “All dead ends.”

“Can I read their case files?” You asked ready to spend the next few hours scouring over the notes. Maybe a fresh set of eyes could pick up on something they’d missed.

She nodded running out of the room to grab them. Spencer watched you before joining you at the table as you read through the entire file from where you left off in the car. You thanked JJ when she set another

“Y/N will stay here with Reid. The rest of us, we’re heading back out.” Spencer nodded reading what you were. Still not seeing anything. He watched as you scrunched your eyebrows and highlighted certain words on the page. Gray Honda. Black scooter. Pink bike. What were you onto? What did you see? He wracked his brain as you worked seamlessly between pages.

You read over the next potential suspect. He must’ve heard the small gasp escape from your lips. As he immediately urged you to go on by asking, “What is it?”

“The Darcy’s. We need to go back. There’s something here Spence.” Your finger held over a simple line in the interview. One that’d been glossed over. A seemingly useless detail in a sea of muddled mess of facts and fiction.

He shook his head not getting it continuing to urge on with his eyes, “He messed up. He slipped up and said gray.” You started reading from the transcript, “He said, ‘I took the car out for a spin at that time.’ And then JJ asked, ‘What kind of car to you drive Mr. Darcy?’ He responded, ‘A gray… shoot I mean black Honda Civic. Sold the gray one last year to a family member.’”

His head cocked, “A gray Honda Civic... oh, shit.” He dove into the papers finding exactly what you were looking for, “The interview with the witness who found the body. She spotted a gray Honda along her route.”

You nodded, “She thought it was odd because it was so early in the morning. Nobody is ever out.”

“We need to call Penelope.” Spencer gaped.

He pulled out his phone, “Garcia, who did David Darcy’s sell his car to last year?”

She hummed, “Well hello to you too! Give me a second boy genius.” You heard her typing away through the speaker phone, “Looks like it’s Mike Darcy. His brother.”

He looked at you with nothing but approval. He knew you were good at your job, but this was exceptional. You’d pieced it together so easily he was almost embarrassed he hadn’t caught that himself, “What do you have on him?” He asked. Again, silence with more typing before another really long silence and the faintest gasp.

“Garcia?” Spencer was finding it rather infuriating he was the one on the other side. He was the one who couldn’t seem to piece it all together. It wasn’t like him.

“He lost his entire family in a car accident two years ago. His wife and two children.”

He was shaking his head know all too well the aged of those two children, “An eight-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy?”

“They don’t call you boy genius for nothing right?” Her laugh sounded strained but relieved. It wasn’t an easy life. Often times so much harder than you could ever dream of. The horror of humanity never ceased to amaze you in the worst ways imaginable.

“Thanks Penny. We gotta call Hotch.” Reid’s eyes were huge before as he dialed his boss’s number, “Hotch, you’re never going to believe this.” He walked off spouting off everything you’d just concluded. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, you listened to your friend off in the distance. It had to be the brother. That had to be the missing puzzle piece.

You felt somebody watching you as you cleaned the files up. You’d begged Spencer to let you go but he straight up refused. Hotch wanted to talk to you or some bullshit like that. You’d, very reluctantly, agreed.

“We looked for days.” His voice sounded harsher. A bit meaner than it did earlier. You turned to meet his eyes that looked how his voice sounded, unhappy with you.

“Just needed a fresh set of eyes was all.” His eyes didn’t change. His state only seemed to harden as he took you in.

“Thank you. She was found safe.” It sounded as if it was torturing him to give you the thanks.

You nodded quickly turning back around to clean the mess up, “Anytime.” He didn’t look bad by any means. Must’ve been a pretty easy arrest. You’d seen Spencer at his worst after unsub’s had been confronted. It was inevitable when you hunted the worst of humanity.

“We won’t be needing your services any longer.” Your heart both sped up and dropped a little at that statement. He didn’t like you. Plain and simple. Had you done something to piss him off? Upset him somehow? You ran through the events of the last few hours and came up miserably short. You’d just have to ask Spencer later.

Before you could respond though an older, almost more intimidating than him, woman walked into the room shaking her head, “That’s not what we agreed on Aaron.” She turned to smile at you, “Erin Strauss, BAU Section Chief.” She walked over to shake your hand eyeing you up. You’d were curious to what she was thinking as she approached you.

“I didn’t agree.” He all but mumbled out. That didn’t sound like the intimidating man that had just tried to put you in your place moments before.

“One vote matters more.” She turned to him. She must’ve given him a look you couldn’t see because he mumbled an agreement. It was surely a sight to be seen. Spencer would eat this one up later. Your longtime friend loved gossiping even though he’d never admit to it.

“That was impressive.” She kept sizing you up, profiling you. She wasn’t shy about doing it either. She’s the big boss and she knew it, used it.

“A new set of eyes can do wonders.” You’d downplay it, for Aaron’s sake. Not that he deserved any of your mercy at this point. He hadn’t exactly been the nicest too you.

She nodded quick, “Sure.” She didn’t have the time to go back and forth with you, “You teach close?”

“Yes I do. Georgetown.” You kept it short and sweet not bothering to elaborate with details she clearly didn’t care about.

A smile broke out on her face, “Dean Willow is a dear old friend of mine. I’ll give him a call. We may call in the future. That is if you want.”

She was giving you the option now, “I would like that. Real world examples are invaluable for my students.” You could’ve sworn you heard a scoff from over her shoulder.

She smiled though, “Wonderful. I’ll give him a call later. Nice to meet you Doctor?” She questioned trying to find out more about you.

You nodded giving her the confirmation you too were one, just like Reid. He wasn’t the only one with a PhD, “Nice to meet you as well Erin.”

She walked off quickly leaving you alone with Aaron. Instead of chatting with him you turned back to the table trying to finish what you’d started long ago, cleaning the damn table up.

“You have no right.” His voice was much louder, much closer now.

Heart hammering in your chest you had to be strategic here, “It was an offer.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and gentle for the moment. You hated confrontation this aggressively, it always seemed to get the best of you.

His lips pursed as he considered his words, “Stay out of the way.” Was all he said before walking out just like Aaron. Yikes. That couldn’t have gone worse.

You’d been called back for almost every local case and even a few further away ones that needed urgency on the clock. That’s where you’d seemed to thrive when the clock was ticking. It never seemed to get better with Aaron. He was cold with you. Never downright mean but brushing the line that he knew he couldn’t cross. Still, you’d never seemed to grow to dislike the man. Spencer let it slip that he felt like he let the entire team down when I came in and solved a case in hours.

You knew how finnicky pride could be. You knew just how dangerous that emotion could turn out to be. You’d let it get the better of you a few times. That was the difference between life and death though. The difference between bringing a family back together or giving them the worst news of their lives. So, you’d give Aaron a pass even if he didn’t really deserve it.

You’d also grown to adore his team. You’d made sure to ask Spencer time and time again to confirm that you weren’t overstepping but he shook it off each time telling you that he enjoyed having you on some of the cases. It brought him back to the fun they had in post-grad all those years ago. Naturally, you’d gravitated towards your friend during the cases you’d been asked to join. Aaron’s eyes always seemed to be glaring at you whenever you caught him. You had a sneaking suspicion you didn’t catch him nearly as often as you did.

Spencer would always just tell you that it was just Aaron. But it had been months now and he was still as ice cold as he was on day one. One by one you’d become close with each of the other members but never dreamed of approaching him. He’d let you know just how much he disliked you. You’d gotten the message loud and clear.

A call came through in the dead of night waking you from the light sleep you were in, always ready, “Hello?” You sounded groggy.

“Y/N. It’s Strauss. Another abduction. Fifteen-year-old girl this time.” She didn’t elaborate waiting for your response.

You sighed, “Why is it always children? I’ll be there in forty.”

Sleepily, you drove into Quantico. You were delighted to see you were the last on there, the team already at work. Yawning you slipped into the conference room greeted by a rather

“Y/N! You’re here. I was getting nervous.” Emily smiled patting your shoulder before moving over next to JJ.

Derek laughed, “Pretty boy was just about to call.”

You grinned looking over at Spence, “Sorry guys, the apartment is closer to Georgetown than it is here.” Your commute was just under an hour. Forty minutes if you pushed it.

“We’re just glad you’re here.” JJ chimed in patting the seat next to her, “We think we have a lead, come take a look.”

Hotch watched in awe as you moved to sit next to her. You’d seamlessly integrated yourself as a semi-permanent member of his team. They’d all seen you an integral member to specific types of cases. Cases that had time constraints. And unfortunately for you that seemed to be child abductions more often than not. Had he been too harsh on you? Was he doing it to protect his team that didn’t even need it? He had a sinking feeling he already knew the answers to those questions, and it wasn’t going to be what he wanted to hear.

He continued to watch as Rossi joked with you, Reid smiled far more often than he’d been used to, Derek already gave you the nickname ‘pretty girl’ to match Spencer’s own pretty boy. You brought ease and order to the team. You took the stress and siphoned it out of a situation. Even Aaron had to admit you were a hell of a profiler. He wasn’t blind either. He found you exceptionally beautiful. A detail Spencer conveniently left out.

He knew he might’ve already burnt that bridge with you though. He’d been nothing but an ass to you. You’d never snapped back though. Always taking everything in grace. You knew the pecking order and it wasn’t up to you to dismantle that or shake up the status quo.

Spencer noticed Hotch’s apprehension to his friend. Spence felt awful that his boss had yet to warm up to you. You were nothing but kind and incredibly good at your job. A combination that Hotch was usually a sucker for. Was his pride really that badly wounded?

He heard you let out a string of cuss words seeing the pictures of the last crime scene. Brutal. Absolute brutality. Whomever was doing this to children was beyond help.

“Jeeze Y/N, you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” Derek smirked laying it on thick. That comment brought Hotch right back into the present far too curious to hear what you had to say.

You threw your head back in laughter, “Hardly Derek. Between the teaching, directing and this. I don’t have the time to go meet anybody.”

Derek’s eyes flicked to Hotch’s so quickly even you didn’t catch it, “Who says you haven’t met him already?” Your eyes found his, a fiendish persona reveled in your bashfulness after tops of your cheeks turned a twinge pink.

You couldn’t let him win like that. Not with all those eyes listening in to the conversation intently, “In your wildest dreams Morgan.” A wink sent him into a fit of laughter. He too loved your ability to give and take. Knowing how to play along with him seamlessly.

Hotch coughed drawing all those curious eyes back to him, “Let’s get moving. Reid and JJ head back to police station and update the chief on the latest. Emily and Rossi go update the family. Morgan and Y/N you’re with me. Unsubs house.” You gave him a twisted look. You’d never been with him, and you’d certainly never been to an Unsubs residence while on a case. You were a profiler. A professor. Not a cop. Not comfortable with confrontation your heart was already picking up the pace just thinking about it.

“I don’t think this is a great idea sir…” You’d managed to mumble out once most of the team had cleared the room. You were sure your nervousness was full front, and center displayed across your facial features.

He cocked his head studying you again. Always studying you. Always on guard around you, “I think it is.”

You cursed under your breath almost embarrassed to admit it to him, “I’ve never done that before, going to an active scene.”

He shrugged loosening his gaze a smidge for the first in front of you, “First time for everything. You’ve been through the training in the last few months. You can do it.” He nodded eyeing the door but making sure your head was in it before he left. Last thing he needed was you not 100% ready and getting injured. He knew you were ready for it though. He’d had a daft curiously of how you’d handle that type of pressure.

The three of you sped to the crime scene. Morgan forced you to sit up front by diving into the truck and taking the entirely of the back seat up shooting you a sly grin before shutting the door. You felt the weight of the bulletproof vest

“Stay behind me, pretty girl. We’ll go room to room on the main level.” Derek spoke with conviction once the three of you made it to the front of the home. Your heart was hammering so hard you could hear the blood echoing in your ears. Focus. You could do this. Aaron believed you could.

Hotch nodded, “I’ll take upstairs. Listen to Morgan.” He ordered before nodding at Derek. All hell broke loose as you went room to room clearing. Before you heard the gunshots upstairs. Morgan rushed upstairs with you behind him. Hotch stood with his gun pointed at the now deceased unsub who had a shotgun in his own procession.

“The girl. Where is she?” You asked turning away from the blood spatter that laced the wall behind the body.

“Go, find her.” He barked turning away from the kill. You prayed that was something you never had to do.

You ran out downstairs searching. It wasn’t until you found the basement door that you flew down there. A strangled gasp came from your throat as you spotted the girl in the corner on a bloody mattress. You shuddered at the thought that it wasn’t only her blood coating that mattress.

“Hotch! Morgan! She’s down here!” You bellowed out dropping the gun immediately and softening your expression after witnessing the shaking, bound girl. She’d been beat up. Quite a few times by the look of differently faded bruises littered haphazardly around her hardly dressed body.

You unzipped your jacket clutching it in your hand. Putting your hands up you dropped down to your knees keeping a distance away letting her know you weren’t a threat. You put your hands up, “Hi sweetheart. My name is Y/N. I work for the FBI and we’re here to help you. Can I bring you this jacket to cover up?” You asked her in your most gentle voice. Like you were talking to the most helpless soul on the planet. She might’ve been at that very moment.

Aaron and Derek watched from the stairwell as you stood up walking over to her with slow small steps. Once you reached her you dropped down again, “Is it alright if I touch you? What hurts the worst sweetheart?”

She shook her head before breaking. Breaking down completely. The tears turned to ugly sobs. She reached out for you, and you grabbed her quickly. Pulling her right into your embrace. She fisted your shirt like her life depended on it unaware of the two men watching the scene unfold before them. They’d called for an ambulance and just had to wait. But you were there for her. He felt a light flutter in his stomach as he watched you caress her face and play with her hair. Whispering in her ear and hold her tight. You were a natural. Aaron could see it plain as day now.

Slowly her harsh wails turned to strained tears. Almost all her energy depleted as she leaned on you. You wrapped your jacket around her small frame to cover whatever decency she had left. The poor babies life was over as she knew it. Her life was going to be an uphill battle from this point going forward. Your heart shattered as you brought her back into your chest. Whispering those sweet reassurances to the utterly broken girl sitting in your lap.

Once the ambulance took her away Hotch turned towards you observing once more. Your usually chipper grin was downturned. It had affected you more than he had sensed. It was hard. Impossible sometimes. And this was a good outcome. An exceptional one even.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked finally letting that guard down.

You nodded so softly he didn’t know if you truly meant it or not, “Yeah. I just… I’ve never done that. Spence always told me stories, but I guess… I don’t know.” You sighed at a loss for words.

He stepped forward placing a hand on your shoulder this time, “It’s okay. It’s difficult. We all know. But think of the good you’d done. You were there for her when she needed it most. We didn’t train you for that. You’re just a good person. Don’t let this job ever take that away from you.”

Your mouth almost dropped as listened to him. He was always a man of so few words this felt like an all on speech for you. So long was that hard gaze you grew to expect over the last few months and was replaced with something much softer and kinder. The look he gave him other agents. The ones he’s known and worked with for years. Maybe Spence was right, maybe he was warming up to you a bit.

Things had been going well. Another month had passed, and you’d been called on for few more cases. You’d refused pay simply because you came and went as you had time. You called it tunning up for your professorship.

Aaron had completely warmed up to you over that time. You were still terribly timid around him. Old habits died hard with you. But he was trying. Making small gestures when you were around. Getting you coffee, holding open the door for you, smiling a little bit more.

It wasn’t lost on the team. They’d seen the change even if you refused to. Spencer constantly bugged you about it once Morgan put a big in his ear. Planted a seed that bloomed in that beautiful brain of his.   

Aaron had a scowl on his face watching you and Spencer joke around in the conference room. Why weren’t you even remotely like that with him?

“You could just tell her instead of shooting daggers at Reid.” Derek clapped his bosses back cracking a smile at him.

“She doesn’t like me.” The scowl dropped as he turned towards his agent.

“So, you think. More intimidated by you than doesn’t like you. You were kind of an ass there for a while.” Derek egged his boss on. It wasn’t often he was able to get under his skin.

Aaron rolled his eyes, through gritted teeth he answered him, “I know Morgan.”

“Why were you anyway?” He asked, digging for more and more. The true king of gossip at Quantico.

He shrugged, “To protect you guys. She was an outsider. We didn’t know anything about her.”

Derek let out a laugh that even drew your attention away from Spencer and over to them. Giving them a sheepish wave, you looked away back to Spence quickly. Aaron’s hard eyes turned soft made you feel a certain type of way. He was back to being that handsome man you first laid eyes on. A man who seemed so far out of your league it was laughable.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself boss man. But we both know that’s not the case. It’s okay to have feelings after Haley. It’s been years Hotch.” Morgan squeezed his shoulders urging his friend on, “I’m going to go grab Reid. Go apologize and tell her how you feel. You might be surprised. Go be happy instead of being jealous.”

He mumbled something incoherent but didn’t stop him. Spencer gave Derek a knowing look. You waved him off turning back to the case you were reviewing. It wasn’t a moment later the same chair Spencer

“I’m sorry.” He spit it out certainly not afraid to beat around the bush with it.

Tilting your head to the side you asked, “What for?”

“Being an ass your first few months here.” Again, he was com

You were a bit stunned, “Oh, thanks. I’m happy to be here.”

“You are an exceptional profiler Y/N and an incredible asset to this team. You’ve got a heart of gold. You work with victims better than anybody I’ve seen. Do you know how heartwarming that is to witness? You’re a natural with it all. So, I’m sorry. I’m so happy to have you here.” He let out a breath after airing it out there.

Your heart rate sped up to that rapid rate that made you feel almost uncomfortable, “You mean it?”

“Every last word.” He looked at you expectantly. It could go either way. Either really good or horrifically bad.

You gave him your first genuine smile. One he’s seen come out for everybody else except for him. Until now, “Thank you Aaron. That was very kind.”

He nodded, “Of course. It’s the truth.” You could tell he wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

You felt a weird surge of confidence brush over you, “For the record. I’ve really enjoyed working for you. With you. I’ve learned a lot.” You too wanted to say something more, but the words were impossible to think of.

The tension was thick. But Aaron decided to cut it. Throwing caution to the wind, “Since you technically don’t work here I don’t think what I’m going to say next is really crossing the line.” He breathed taking a second before gathering the courage he needed, “You are absolutely beautiful Y/N. Inside and out. You’ve been chipping away at my heart ever since you stepped into this world. You are exceptional. I like you. Way more than a boss should. Way more than a friend should.”

Your mouth did drop this time. That was everything you wanted to hear and exactly what you expected not to hear. He liked you? You’d thought back on the month and didn’t see the signs. It seemed so obvious once he spoke it so clearly.

You started giggling at the hilarity of it all.

“What?” He asked smiling, easing back in his chair feeling eased by the lightness of the room.

“I can profile everything but my own damn life.” You kept giggling only to be stopped when he grabbed your hands.

“You’re even prettier when you laugh like that.”

Your blush was mad by now, “Thank you Aaron.”

“Would you let me take you out sometime? On a date? A proper one. Where we get dressed really nice. I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant. All that jazz.”

You smiled even wider, “If that’s really what you want.”

Squeezing your hand as a confirmation he nodded, “Pretty girl, it’s all I want.” His grin was everything as you both sat there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools.

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[mitsuristoleme]

falling in love with you

pairing: poly, gn!reader x gojo x geto

cw: just pure tooth rotting fluff

a/n: this was originally supposed to be part of a longer drabble but i got too carried away writing it and it wont fit into said drabble, so now its a separate one

tagging: @forest-hashira

part 3 of my This Side of Paradise au but can be read as a standalone

part 1 | part 2 | this part

‘oh shall i stay’

Suguru has an amazingly melodic voice. Satoru and you are reminded of it every time you find him in the kitchen, cooking breakfast while singing random songs under his breath. So it shouldn’t shock you when he sings. You shouldn’t feel dizzy when he sings. Especially not when he directs love songs to you and Satoru. Not when you know; not when he soothingly hums melodies in your ears on nights you can’t sleep. But it does.

‘would it be a sin?’

Every time your big, intimidating boyfriend sings while holding you and your blue-eyed lover in his arms, you feel like you’re drowning in an ocean of love and comfort; one of Satoru’s lanky limbs and Suguru’s deep, rich timbre.

‘if i can’t help falling in love with you’

Suguru holds Satoru close to him as he spins you around. He pauses mid-song as he pulls you in by your waist, Satoru’s arm thats not around Suguru finding residence around your shoulders. Suguru leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead, as he leaves a kiss above your brow bone.

“What’re you thinkin’ about pretty?” he inquires, a fond smile in his voice that really goes to show that he knows what’s on your mind.

You lock eyes with him, a softness in both your eyes. Twisting your head slightly, you press a kiss to Satoru’s bicep right next to your face. Suguru’s questioning eyes never leave yours despite your attempt to dodge his inquiry. His hand squeezes your waist to draw your attention back to him.

“Just thinkin’ how pretty your voice is,” you say simply. As much as you want to, verbalising your love for your lovers proved to be an impossible task. How are you supposed to tell him that his voice makes you feel like a puddle of a person without sounding like a madman? Not that he would judge you.

He hums in response, continuing the song once more and you let yourself be swept away in his voice once more.

‘take my hand’

You met Satoru’s eyes, his sky- bright eyes twinkling with his usual mischief and something more profound. ‘I love you’ he mouths, and you know he’s ever so careful to not interrupt his long-haired lover’s singing. Its so characteristically Satoru, it makes your heart melt into a puddle.

‘take my whole life too’

‘I love you too’

He smiles at you, not a shred of his usual cockiness in sight. He’s unusually soft tonight, his eyes bright with the lovesickness you and Suguru have long since picked up on.

‘for i, i can’t help falling in love with you’

You press a kiss to Satoru’s lips before tilting your head upward to do the same to Suguru’s jawline.

“Hey,” he whispers, his expression soft the way it is when he sings love songs to his partners.

Your answering smile is bright as you push yourself up on your toes to kiss his lips.

He kisses you softly, tightening his arm around your waist to support you (he knows you cant balance on your toes for too long and end up getting wobbly). He pulls away, gently guiding your feet to the ground, before he captures Satoru’s perfectly glossed lips in a kiss.

You let your head rest on Suguru’s chest, feeling his heart thump away at a steady pace.

The boys (your boys, you remind yourself giddily) break apart and Satoru pulls both you and Suguru impossibly closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and one to his long-haired boyfriend’s cheek.

“I love you. Both of you.”

“I do too. So much.”

“Me three, you two. I love you.”

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comments and reblogs are always appreciated

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dividers by @/saradika

[romanoffsbish]

Power(less) Moves

CEO!NatashaReader x Assistant!Wanda

A/N: I love mcu Vision, please don’t read into the slanderous noncannon talking points | 4,840 Words

Warnings: Pushy Men | Angst -> Fluff

Smut: Daddy (R) | Mommy (N) | Restraints (W) | Thigh-Riding (N) | Paddle - Spanking | Oral (All) | Strap (W) | Bullet Vibe | Degradation | Overstimulation | 18+ | Minors DNI

A luncheon barbecue was the last place Wanda wanted to spend her Saturday afternoon, but being the assistant to the CEO's meant she hadn't much of a choice. Especially when said CEO's are also her lovers in the night time.

She'd been hoping to get lucky this morning after her dream left her a sticky mess, but when you brushed her off your thigh, and Natasha rushed out the front door with nary a kiss on her lips she knew she was shit out of luck.

Which is why she planned to be a bit of a brat.

——

Sitting impossibly close to Vision Stark, Tony's dorky younger brother that you hired out of pity as he was struggling to find employment after college. Turns out he wasn't all that keen on keeping it either as his hand grazed over Wanda's back as she laughed at his lame joke.

Natasha's hand was wrapped so tight around her flute of champagne that you had to take it from her. Fearful it would snap and cut her.

Your arms connected as they weaved around her front, you kissed the skin beneath her ear then whispered, "It's okay my love, the little whore is foolishly toying with us." Natasha grumbled, "She's letting him touch her Y/N."

There was insecurity in her tone that enacted a resounding pain in your chest. The prospect of losing Wanda always weighed heavy on both of your hearts, she was a bit younger, and more importantly she was free of commitments.

Natasha and you had an entire company to run, people's lives depending on your ability to sign their checks, she only had your cards.

"She wants to make us pay for leaving her a mess," you whispered with renewed conviction as you noticed her gazing back at you two every once in awhile. Natasha caught on as well as she chuckled darkly, "It'll be her to pay."

Wanda clearly felt eyes on her, she enjoyed it at first, the way her body felt with the surge of adrenaline the glares gave her. Riling you guys up was her favorite pastime, because she'd always wind up waking up with one of you both still deep inside of her, where you'd belonged.

Wanda absolutely adored the possessiveness. Being your guys assistant wasn't exactly easy, but loving the two of you was. It was like breathing, an organic, natural occurrence.

There was no way she'd ever leave you two, and especially not for Vision Stark, he was a drab, and on top of that he was unattractively pushy.

At first flirting with Vision was fun, humoring the man who'd made his office crush obvious, it was harmless; until it wasn't. When his hands firmed against her skin, and he leaned in a hair too close. Wanda was no longer enjoying this, he smelt of cheap aftershave, and peach schnapps, smelling just as pretentious as he'd made himself out to be. A rich kid who was so insufferable he couldn't get hired on his name.

Tony once joked he was adopted, and Wanda's starting to believe he wasn't lying after all. That or he was likely the product of an affair. Yeah... Which would explain the stark difference in their appearances, one blonde with blue eyes and lanky limbs, the other a brunette, with brown eyes, and a all around toned physique.

Fortunately for Wanda you guys saw the exact moment her flirty facade fell into distress. There was not even a blink of your eyes before you were rushing off to aide her. Natasha hot on your heels with an HR exec beside her.

"Hey Wanda, is everything okay?" The woman turned her face to look up, her lip wobbled slightly, Vision leaned back in adjunct horror.

"I-." Wanda found herself unable to speak, you all glared daggers at the trembling trust fund baby, and Sadie, the HR manager, sighed in obvious frustration, "Stark, follow me."

You nudged your wife, silently demanding her check reflect a bonus for this moment. Nat rolled her eyes at your thoughtfulness, but nodded a promise, and in this case agreement.

"Wanda, I need you to calm down," you coo'd, a hand softly tracing the curvature of her face. "Can you do that baby?" Her lower lip trembled softly, she harshly sucked it between her teeth to temper herself before nodding her head.

"Thank you," you kissed the tip of her nose, she visibly relaxed, and your heart beamed with pride and swirled with adoration. "Natty's pulling the car around, I'll be home later."

Wanda's hands clutched your shirt, eyes wide with fear, shadowing her disappointment. "I have to close out the luncheon, and then I have to deal with some urgent HR paperwork."

"No," Wanda shook her head, a tear flying as she did. "I'm sorry, I-I, it's okay. Let him go."

"Don't be crazy Wanda," you lowly growled. "He made you uncomfortable, it was clear and he dismissed it, that's unacceptable; for you, to me, and also as a reflection on the company."

"I can stay," she pleaded. "I'll pull it together."

"No." You shook your head, and gave her a hug to soothe her. You quietly whispered, "You've had a rough time baby, you'll go home and take care of yourself. Do as mommy says. Got it?" Wanda nodded, and you gave out soft praises.

Then you heard a car door slam, and a rush of footsteps telling you your time ran out. You slyly kissed her lips, then warned, "When daddy gets home we'll handle punishment."

Natasha kissed your cheek, then smirked at you as she pulled Wanda towards the car. You winked at the terrified brunette, then blew a kiss to your wife before returning to find your employees eyes all on your business. The lot of them straightened out and shifted back to their former conversations, you shook your head with amusement before returning to business.

That mongrel had to be dealt with instantly. 

—

It had been about three torturous hours before you could even consider heading home. Vision tried to fight you, threatening legal recourse as he stated you were merely jealous. Apparently he had known of your situation, and was set on using it against all of you. He'd threatened to use his status, but his attempts were futile as Tony cackled through the receiver of his phone.

What you, Natasha, and Wanda shared was a matter you'd legally squashed ages ago with HR. Sure, you still kept your relationship under wraps at work, but that was simply to ensure staff didn't cry favoritism due to the nature of your positions. Wanda was never given special treatment at work, ever, you and Nat simply couldn't afford to feed into her ego like that.

She was already insufferable at home as it was.

After a long battle that left you exhausted, and poor Sadie on the verge of a breakdown, the younger Stark decidedly heeded his brother's warnings about being cut off if he so much as called the family lawyer against two of his best friends, and his namesake company's allies.

He left quietly, a major deviation from how he'd entered, but you left in an angered rush.

When you eventually walked through the doors of your massive penthouse you were met by your wife, who was sitting on your at home bar wearing nothing more than a red camisole intricately laced in black, her full breasts on display as she hopped off the counter and sauntered over to you, smirking devilishly as she saw exactly where your eyes had landed.

"Welcome home love." She pecked your lips, then allowed you to wordlessly respond, your hands fell to her hips where you squeezed them before pulling her back in for a deeper kiss. It had been a long day, one that was meant to be stress free, but had divulged into chaos.

Natasha could sense the urgency in you, with the way your hands bunched the silk up, fully exposing her bare lower half to you enough of an indication that it had been a tough event.

"Love, slow down," she panted against your lips as you'd slipped your leg between hers and began to rub her cunt against your slacks. You growled, then sunk your teeth into the swell of her breast to clearly reiterate your frustrations.

"I tied the brat up," she whispered between her raspy moans, instantly peeking your interest. "How long has she been made to be alone with her thoughts?" You inquired as you continued to help your wife ride your thigh, enjoying the way her face scrunched up in pleasure as she fought to remain cognizant enough to reply.

"After I made sure she showered his stench off of her, and ate a proper meal, I tied her up."

"Good, because if I had to suffer for her foolish behavior, then so should she." Natasha whined as you abruptly stilled her hips, "Why must I?"

"Oh hush," you chided, "I let you come home while I dealt with the pest, the least you could do is be patient so I can fuck you properly."

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, "Fair enough."

With a soft roll of your eyes you responded to her, then after a moment of silence you lifted the woman up, who squealed at the surprise, and brought her to the master bedroom. You tossed her onto the mattress, then hovered over her, completely ignoring the woman laid beside you with red cheeks and flowing tears.

Wanda immediately pulled at her restraints when she got no response to her pleading. "Mommy please, I thought about what I did," she cried, "I just needed you guys so badly."

"Shut up whore," you growled, but you didn't look at her and that absolutely broke her.

"Had you just been patient, like I'd asked you to be this morning, then we'd have made sure to fuck you dumb later." This time you turned, glare icy as you met her teary eyes. "Color?"

"Green..."

"It's such a shame too," you sighed, your hand cupped her cheek tenderly, subtle reassurance of your guys love before you gripped her chin. "We would've had you thoroughly fucked all weekend long, Monday too since it's a holiday."

"Wait," she went to seek clarity, but you'd already shoved her panties into her mouth.

"Whores don't get to make demands," you tutted before turning back to look at Natasha who was thoroughly amused by your actions. "Now, if you want relief you'll be quiet, and watch me make mommy scream. If you so much as blink we won't touch you for a week."

Natasha snorted, "Aww baby, play fair." The request was absolutely ridiculous, you knew that, but in the moment you didn't care much.

"Fair would've been her remaining loyal," you sneered, "She instead chose to parade around the luncheon like she was on the damn menu."

Natasha frowned deeply at the reminder, her eyes full of insecurities met eyes full of regret.

Wanda instantly broke the rule as she blinked once the reality had hit her, she'd never meant to actually hurt either one of you. Losing you wasn't an option she thought of fondly, or ever. It left a dull ache in her chest thinking that she might be facing losing either one of you. And she couldn't even apologize like she wanted to with the makeshift gag, it was shoved in deep.

"Three blinks," you suddenly conceded through a harsh breath through your nose, knowing damn well that was manageable as Natasha wasn't that far away from her own release.

Wanda nodded obediently, not a single rebuttal left on her lips, and she knew your tight smile was the closest to affection you'd show her.

Natasha moaned as soon as your tongue met her dripping cunt, she was already close while riding your thigh, and she knew as you were relentlessly lapping at her that she wouldn't last long. Which left some hope for Wanda.

The brunette made it an entire minute before she blinked. One down, and two to go, she was pleading with you to work your usual magic. Natasha hardly ever took more than two minutes to orgasm when your skilled mouth was what was at use. Your dexterous tongue was more than enough for the both of them.

Then you incorporate the fingers and it's over, which is how you approached the now. You pulled a strangled moan from the redhead that reverberated off the walls. Wanda gulped and blinked again as her arousal increased tenfold.

"Careful Wands," Natasha panted affectedly, "You've only got one more pass now baby."

Wanda's eyes burned, but she managed to keep them open just long enough for you to suck Nat's clit into your mouth and make her sing your praises. The brunette blinked fast so she could alleviate the sting and watched closely as Nat sloppily rutted into your face to make the orgasm last. Wanda was jealous, but content.

Watching you make your wife fall apart was always something she found attractive. It is how the first night together went. You gave her pointers, then let her take over the act so you could rail her senseless with your strap. A shiver ran down her spine at the memory, and a shock to her heart followed as she continued to regret her every bratty decision on this day.

Natasha smirked dreamily at you as you now hovered over her, all while her slender fingers walked down Wanda's body, she could feel the way the girl tensed, she was perfectly wound up. "She did it lyubov', shall we reward her?"

You hummed in contemplation as you pressed your lips to hers, relishing in the way that your wife moaned, and wrapped her legs around you to draw your body even closer. Wanda watched with rapt attention, her muffled whimpers and squirming body enough to draw you back. You looked at her with that infuriatingly attractive, smug grin that only ever made her wetter.

"I suppose the brat has earned her reprieve," you reasoned with a shrug before clambering off the bed, and just as you disappeared into the closet to retrieve your strap Natasha took your agreement in stride. With fast hands she untied the brunette, and removed the panties. Wanda choked on the taste of her own arousal as she acclimated to the freedom, then after a bit of spluttering she looked up into predatory green orbs and inhaled sharply before pouting.

The redhead wore a smirk, "You look so pretty like this sweetheart," her thumb stroked over the younger woman's cheek, wiping away a stray tear. Then she leaned down to kiss her trembling lips, her tongue slipping into her mouth as she passed time. Once she heard the familiar sound of you fastening the harness she pulled back with a wide smirk. Wanda gulped, and as expected, with the tight grip Nat had on her hips she flipped her onto her stomach.

"Don't you think so detka?" Natasha called out to you as she heard you approach her, you didn't answer right away. Instead you handed over a leather paddle then walked to the side of the bed and crouched down to see Wanda's muddled gaze. "So pretty," you mused as your callous thumb ran down the bridge of her nose until it landed on her plump, pursed lips. Her entire body visibly shuddered, and her eyes that reeked of submission only doubled down.

"Broken into submission, and at our mercy." Natasha beamed at the familiar concept, and you smiled just the same as you leaned in to peck her lips. "It's about time we ruin her."

The redhead took that as her queue and slammed the paddle down onto her left cheek. You took full advantage of her anticipated reaction, Wanda's agape mouth as she went to scream out in a mix of pain and pleasure was full before the sound could fully leave her throat as you jutted your hips forward. It was replaced by a gargle of whimpers and gags.

"Get daddy's cock ready for you baby," Natasha commanded as she roughly groped the stinging skin of her behind. "And take each hit like a good girl, don't try to escape me now love..."

Natasha was relentless in her pursuit to bruise the rear end of your lover. Wanda took it in stride as her repentance was just beginning. Neither of you would truly hurt the woman, marks aside, you knew she took great pleasure from this arrangement as she drenched your sheets every single time you had to punish her.

Her tears still soaked through the pillowcase as you continued to assault her throat just the same, you were clearly close to your release as the harness brutally assaulted your clit. Your grunts turned both of your lovers on, Nat had even brought her paddle to a stop after a harsh swat against the reddened, welting cheeks. It was mesmerizing to see you so close, your face scrunched up as sweat sheened your skin.

The heady stench of arousal nearly brought the redhead to her knees, so she did it herself as she kept her eyes locked on yours. With a much gentler hand she maneuvered the pliant body on the bed until her ass was raised and legs were spread enough to grant her access to her drenched cunt. She winked at you before diving right in, making Wanda moan around your strap and driving you wild with the reverb.

"Natasha," you warned through gritted teeth, she understood you perfectly, but she still teased you by pushing Wanda to the absolute brink. Her eyes swimming with mischief never wavered from your own, and just as you had came, arousal painting your thighs, she pulled away to prevent Wanda from the same fate.

Wanda cried hoarsely as you ripped your strap from her throat, spit trailed from her swollen lips to your strap until you moved far enough back for it to snap. The poor girl was in total disarray over the refusal, but as she was swiftly flipped onto her back she was made to cry even harder. The feel of your usually soft sheets was nearly coarse as it rubbed against her sore ass.

"If only you would've behaved today," you pondered aloud, "We would've let you cum without teasing, and with the promise of it never ending until you'd beg us to stop."

"I'm sorry," she cried, her eyes were clamped shut as she tried to stop her tears, "Please..."

"That's a good girl," you chuckled darkly as you stared down at her from the end of the bed. "Beg for it, remind mommy and daddy that only we can make you this desperate."

Wanda went to plead her case, but you cut her off by pushing your strap beyond her fluttering entrance. The overdue stretching of her slicked up walls had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, her back arching alongside them until Natasha firmed her back against the mattress.

While you picked up an instantly brutal pace Natasha moved about her upper body, making her head spin as she lavished her breasts with soft kisses that turned incessant, then from there it became rough. Her teeth making surprise contact with the skin over her pulse was enough to help reduce her into a mess.

"Please," she whimpered, the first coherent word to fall from her lips in minutes as you purposefully neglected her clit to keep her on that blissful edge. Natasha's mouth wrapped around her pert nipples aided her in her journey, but Wanda couldn't reach her peak without the more direct stimulation. "Hmm?"

"Beg harder baby, don't be so damn pitiful," Natasha taunted in a garbled manner as she continued to suck and nip at her chest. Her mark more than made on the once clear skin that she'd taken to using as a canvas. "Do it!"

Wanda shrieked as the redhead twisted her nipple for emphasis at the same time your tip pressed against her innermost sensitive spot. The brunette blacked out for all of two seconds as the building pleasure reached unbearable. The closeness was obvious to all of you, as with every thrust in you met increased resistance, and Natasha was up close to her heaving chest.

"Please, I-I, mommy I need to let go so bad!" Wanda finally cried, "Daddy, please let me."

Your wife peered up at you, her plump lip caught between her teeth as she admired the way you looked glistening under the soft light of your bedroom, layered in sweat. It was hot. Rather enticing, the way that you focused your eyes on her every previously sinful move while still keeping up the brutal pace of your thrusts. Clearly you were on the brink again, but you kept it under control as you finally gave into the temptation to see Wanda coming undone.

"Cum for us baby," you purred, voice raspy from the insatiable need. Wanda's heart soared and with a firm press of your thumb to her clit as your wife sucked a deep mark onto the skin of the valley of her breasts she was writhing.

"There's our good girl," you teased, and Nat snorted, "We just had to fuck her dumb."

"Oh, and we're far from done," you muttered, smirking at your wife as you felt the way her thighs tensed as you lifted her legs up, causing the strap to reach further. Wanda screamed as the tip of your strap pressed firmly against her g-spot. Natasha watched in momentary awe as the strap you rutted into her, against her walls that squeezed it still, bulged her stomach out.

"I-I can't," Wanda whined, but Natasha shushed her with a peck to her lips, "You can baby, this is what you wanted, so take it." Then she rerouted her attention back to the bulge, her hand splayed flat against her abdomen as she felt the mesmerizing rise and fall of it. "Daddy's fucking you so well baby, thank her."

"Thank you daddy," she instantly complied, "Need to cum again, please." You hummed, "Use your manners and thank mommy too."

Wanda smiled up at Natasha, her expression thanks enough, and so the redhead nodded while reaching down to stimulate her clit as her other hand pressed firmly against her stomach. The brunette's entire body shook violently as she was thrown into another blinding orgasm.

Then all at once it stopped as you slipped out, her slick oozing out of her hole that continued to contract around nothing. Her body slumped and your wife met your lips for a tender kiss.

Wanda was too fucked out to notice Natasha had inserted a bullet into her, her walls too numbed from the previous filling to register it either. It wasn't until she shifted slightly, her eyes widening, that she felt the foreign piece. The way you two smiled at her was enough, she didn't need words to know the punishment was prolonged, and that terrified and excited her.

"Why don't you help daddy out, hm?" Natasha now hovered over the brunette, smile alluring as always as she stroked her face. Wanda knew exactly what that meant, so she shimmied off the bed and dropped to her knees, hands working fast to remove the harness from you, trying her best to be fast to keep you content.

Just as soon as the harness left your body were you gripping her by her hair and pressing her into you. Your cunt ached, as did your body with tension from your long day. Nobody, not even Natasha who was skilled beyond belief could bring you over the edge like Wanda did.

Every single session between you three ended like this, with her in varying positions that always centered with her between your thighs. Using her dexterous tongue and nimble, long fingers to bring you to nirvana in seconds. It filled the woman with pride every time. This time, even with her being in the dog house, was no different. If anything it was more special.

The fact that you are even letting her do this was a privilege she didn't take for granted. Your essence smeared her face, and she wore it with the utmost pride, if you'd let her she would wear it in public. Part of her wished that to be part of the punishment, maybe you'd let her eat you out on Tuesday in the office, and make her wear it in a possessive retaliation.

Natasha watched Wanda's thighs rub together and she smirked from her place behind you, her hands lazily played with your breasts as her lips tenderly kissed over your salty skin. "I think the brat is enjoying her treat, should we give her the other one?" You chuckled breathily, "I don't know, I think us spoiling her like that is what got us into this mess Natalia."

Wanda flinched, the reminder of today still weighed heavy on her every time you brought it up. She wished for it to be a thing of the past, but she knew better than to dream like that. It was her fault, she hurt you both, and somehow you still let her have your sweetest nectar so she wouldn't complain about your denials.

Honestly, she didn't even need the vibe, your moans that just picked up, along with the tightening of your hand in her hair was enough to tell her just how well she was doing, and to send her crashing over the edge alongside you.

"Fuck, she's dripping onto the carpet," Natasha rasped against your shoulder as she peered down to see Wanda with her hands now on the ground as she keeled over and desperately gasped for air. You'd not only smothered her, but your reaction to her alone sent her into an orgasm that was blinding and breathtaking.

Literally, she was basically hyperventilating.

Though you were also coming down from an intense release, you dropped to your knees and pulled the overstimulated girl into your lap. Kissing over the bruises your lover had already left behind, but you refrained from leaving your own. Your slick on her contorted face was more than enough for you to have left a mark.

"Shh, it's okay sweetness," you tried to calm her as you carried her into the bathroom, Nat leading you there so she could run a bath, but it was clear as day that she was deep in turmoil.

"I'm sorry," Wanda cried, hands clutching your shoulders as her head lay against your chest. "Please don't leave me, I need you, please!!"

Natasha rose from the lip of the tub in an instant, taking the girls heated face between her hands so she could soothingly stroke her thumbs over her cheeks, and kiss her forehead.

"Hey, hey, nobody's leaving anybody baby," the redhead shut down her fears, and looked to you so you could continue to reassure the woman.

While Natasha returned to situate the tub, you shifted Wanda so that her arms were around your neck, with her legs around your waist. It brought you face to face, with the proximity you could see just how petrified she really was.

"Wanda, we adore you," you whispered softly, keeping the moment intimate enough. "We'd never leave you, but sometimes." You paused, taking a second to build up the courage to voice your shared fears. "We wonder if you would be happier elsewhere, and it's terrifying to think you'll wake up one day and no longer want us."

"I'm never leaving!" Her grip on you tightened. "You two are my forever, I've never been so happy before. I'm sorry for being an ungrateful brat." She buried her face into your neck, fresh hot tears were now streaming down your skin.

Natasha wrapped her arms around the both of you, pulling your bodies into hers so she could offer comfort as well. "We love you Wanda."

"So much baby," you added. "Never doubt that, just because we can't always fulfill your sinful needs it doesn't make the words any less true."

"Also," Natasha began with a smirk sent over Wanda's shoulder for you to see her devilish intent. "Never stop being our brat." Her lips then latched onto the brunette's neck from behind, drawing out a whimper from her lips.

"Yeah, punishing you is half the fun." You playfully slapped her ass, and she cried harder against you due to the renewed stinging flesh.

"Come now, let's get you cleaned up." Natasha gently maneuvered her from your hold and into the tub. She looked up longingly, and the both of you gave into her pitiful, silent request as you slipped into the tub. Natasha had turned on the jets, so it was the perfect zen moment.

Then once Wanda was calmed she asked you a simple, albeit dangerous question. "What's the other half?" You smirked, hand hovering the remote of her bullet vibe. "That it never ends."

——

[luveline]

for your dad!steve au, can we see steve making the girls laugh? or just any slice of life? thank u!

thank you for your request! dad!steve x mom!reader, 1k

Steve doesn’t play rough with the girls because he’s a schmuck who’s constantly terrified of dislocated elbows (shockingly common in young kids —all you have to do is pick them up wrong), but Avery has discovered via soft play club after school that landing on or being thrown at a soft surface is extremely enjoyable. 

“Please, dad, just chuck me! I won't get hurt,” she insists. 

You, sitting on the floor by your bed, look up from the clothes you’re sorting into piles to smile at him. “Go on, handsome, just throw her.”

“I don't want to throw you,” Steve says unhappily, trying to ignore Avery where she’s sat pleadingly on the edge of the made bed. He’s putting your folded pyjamas away in the dresser. 

“Please, dad, please, please, please!” she begs, climbing from her knees onto wobbly feet.

Steve sighs. Today hasn’t necessarily been long or anything, as it’s a Sunday, so you’re home. When you’re home, you insist on handling the majority of childcare to give Steve as much of a break as he can get, which isn’t often a break at all because you have three kids and a house and a lot of chores that are unavoidable. Steve reveres your efforts. You work all week just like he does, and at least he gets the pleasure of being surrounded by the people he loves. A full work week and everyday you come home tired but willing to keep on fighting until bedtime. 

He closes the dresser drawer. Realistically, there is no reason to say no to Avery. He isn’t so tired as to not be able to play for a bit, and he knows himself well enough to know he won't hurt her. 

He crouches gently and opens his arms. “Fine. C’mere, Ave.”

She launches herself at him. Steve picks her up, and he rocks her lanky but still so small body in his arms, each rock a threat that prompts an excited laugh from his oldest. She screams with joy when he finally throws her into the bed, her body bouncing up toward the pillows (two for you, about six for him).

“Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to drop you,” Steve teases.

She giggles giddily and crawls back to the end of the bed for another go. 

You pause with clothes unfolded in your hands. Kids wear altogether too many clothes. Dove must change three times a day, Bethie too, your youngest girls both burdened with a penchant for mess. Avery is much better, but even if they were the neatest girls in the world they’d still make a mountain of laundry at the end of the week. 

Simply put, you’re sick of clothes. It’s much more fun to watch Avery scream with joy as Steve scoops her up and drops her down again. He looks nice tonight, like he always does, lean but tough, not as fit as he once was because there’s no time for swimming when you’re raising kids but really, really pretty. The suggestion of his biceps strain against his short sleeve t-shirts, and when he pulls Avery up against his chest his shirt gets caught and you can see his soft tummy. 

“What is happening?”

You turn to the source of the new voice. Your second oldest, Bethie, stands in the doorway in her white nightie, hand in hand with your toddler, Dove. Dove is in very sweet, very small pyjamas, thin white cotton dotted with dainty blue flowers. They wear twin expressions, an apprehensive sort of confusion. They can hear the laughter and they want to be involved. You can’t blame them; Avery’s squealing in her disorientation, having way too much fun. 

“Dad’s throwing your sister,” you say. 

Bethie takes a step back. Not from fear, never, but because she’s a shy girl who doesn’t like asking for things. You don’t understand how you managed to make a daughter so different from your first, but you're delighted anyways. You love her exactly how she is. 

“Do you want to play, too?” you ask her, setting aside the last pile of folded clothes.

“No,” she mumbles. 

Steve tosses Avery at the pillows again and turns to the newcomers as she rolls. “Hello,” he says sweetly. “Now all my favourite girls are in one place! Come here, Beth, let me see you.”

Bethie is the world’s biggest daddy’s girl, immediately dropping Dove’s hand to crowd Steve’s knees. Dove’s happy to be set free. She squeezes through all the hubbub to flop into your lap, kicking over a neat pile of laundry as she goes. 

“What’s this?” Steve asks Bethie as he picks her up. He smooths a hand down her face. “What have you done here? You have a little mark.”

“I don't know,” she says. 

“No? You know what I think? I think it’s–” He tosses her in the space Avery vacated. Bethie is shocked beyond words and delighted by his deception, screaming as she lands in the rumpled sheets. Steve laughs at her laughing, and quickly moves around to the side of the bed to check he hasn’t done any lasting damage. “I thought you’d like that,” he says, hands sliding under her shoulders. 

“Do you want a go?” you ask Dove.

Dove can’t speak much yet. She knows lots of words and fractions of sentences, but all her pronouns are messed up, and she doesn’t like speaking anyways. She’s a quiet girl like Beth, though she doesn’t quite have her older sister's happy disposition, and she frowns at you. 

“Want boppy,” she says. 

You wrap your arm around her to feel her stomach like that might reveal a certain truth. “You’re hungry?” you ask, rubbing her side. “Okay, baby, let's go get your bottle.”

“She had loads at dinner,” Steve says. “I’m not sure why she’d be hungry.”

You laugh, because when he turns to you he has the two girls under his arms like bags of flour. They laugh and squirm to be released. Steve pretends to drop them, hiking them up again with a grin when their giggles thicken. 

“She’s a growing girl. Why don’t we all go have some milk, milk and cookies?” you ask, giving Dove an indulgent kiss. 

“Two seconds,” Steve says over the sound of excited agreement, “just need to–”

Steve throws the girls into your bed again. 

“Dad!” Avery scolds, her hair ruffled, her t-shirt collar rolled. “I’m fragile.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” He turns to you with a showful glare. Vindicated at last. 

Bethie stands up, an uncharacteristic loudness to her as she says, “Again, dad, please!”

Steve has trouble saying no to any of the girls but especially Beth. he drags her onto his chest and gets ready to toss her.

“I’ll meet you downstairs?” you ask knowingly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

—

more of this au <3

[romancingstars]

DRUNKEN MONOLOGUES

And you’re draped on him, whilst you’re staring at me.

remus lupin x reader

part 1 of drunken monologues

warnings : alcohol consumption (not as much as first suggested) , infatuation at first sight (remus lupin is so pretty , he takes care of u , hlp me

yet again another repost, hope you guys enjoy it just as much as the first time round ! all these r kinda shit sooo

title’s stolen from : no.1 party anthem by the arctic monkeys and come closer by miles kane

“Moony!” Sirius shouted, walking over to the lanky man. You were clinging onto Sirius’s arm, giggling over whatever joke he had just told about the Sex Pistols. Something about Malcolm McLaren probably. “I’ve found my dream lover! Knows The Clash and Pistols. Even, Public Image I mean, come on it’s the way to my heart.” he stated, gesturing to you. Dragging your eyes away from Sirius, you peered up at Remus and your jaw went slack. He was your type to the tee. Tall, thin, soft brown locks and full lips. The scars only made him look even better. His everything was completely and utterly perfect in your not so humble opinion.

“Happy for you Pads.” Remus said, rolling his eyes. Then, he looked down at you and the worst happened - he caught you staring. Your open mouth, which you were practically drooling from, was a slight give away that Sirius was no longer your top priority. Only a slight giveaway. “Oh, shit.” he muttered under his breath.

“Oi! What’re you staring at him like that for? You didn’t look at me like that.” Sirius whined, looking down at you.

“I like your music taste, and your hair. You’re fit. But, him? He’s fucking gorgeous.” you replied, pointing over at Remus. The very little vodka you had consumed must’ve gone to your head because you never would’ve said that in a normal state. However, you didn’t remove your arm from Sirius’s. Mostly for balance, which was a little selfish, but desperate times. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to avoid Sirius’s gaze of pure disbelief.

“Not to be rude Remus or anything, but you seriously think he’s better looking than me? I know he’s fit, but I’m me.” the black haired boy argue, flicking his eyes between the two of you.

“You’re both good looking, he’s just more to my taste. Look at him, he’s so pretty. But, in a different way to you. See you’re all tidy and your hair is in better condition than mine. He’s so.. oh I just want to bite him. What’s his name again?” you rambled, never taking your own eyes from Remus. The taller man was trying desperately hard not to laugh at Sirius’s complete shock, which was an almost impossible task.

“Fine then, go hang off of his arm.” Sirius said, holding you out towards him. You immediately stumbled towards Remus, by your own choice.

“Gladly. Hiiiiii.” you cooed, using his shoulders for balance. “I’m really quite tired and— Oh. Shit. Think I need some air.” you added, holding onto Remus’s bicep for dear life. Your knees had buckled and the brown haired man barely caught you. However, his hands did reach your waist to keep you stood up straight.

“Think you need something more than air. Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Remus replied, chuckling lightly at the way you were peering up at him. “Think you hurt Sirius’s feelings.” he added, continuing on the conversation as he sat you down outside of the house.

“Reckon he’ll get over it, he had a swarm of fans following him around. Got me absolutely pissed though. Not on purpose, I was just trying to keep up with him.” you said, rubbing your temples. Your speech was fine, but your legs were a little wobbly. Everything just felt slow. You realised you weren’t that pissed at all, just nervous in Remus’s presence.

“Yeah, he tends to have that affect on people. What’s your name again?” he said, quoting you to you. He smirked down at you. It was a little comforting to know he was genuinely paying attention to you.

You mumbled your name to him and tried desperately hard not to imagine yourself wrapped up in Remus’s arms. Or tucked away asleep in his bed, kissing him or dancing with him in your living room. With alcohol still flowing in your system, you decided now was the perfect time to make another move. “Meant what I said about you before, by the way. You are- indescribable.” you stated, staring up at him once again.

“Yeah? Glad you think so, you’re also drunk.” he replied, sitting down beside you. His face flushed slightly and you saw, but decided that commenting on it might scare him off.

“Mmmhm, maybe you should give me your number and, and your home address. Then, the next time you’re free so I can show you the prettiest book shop. I’m just assuming you like books, you seem like the smart type. By that I mean you dress like and old man, don’t get me wrong I’m into it, but you do.” you rambled, eyes following him as he moved beside you.

“Really? I’ll give you my number and I do like books. Good assumption?” he chuckled and his hair flopped in front of his eyes. You wanted to eat him, which is an odd statement really, but it was the truth.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you,” you pointed to him as you spoke. “walk me” you continued, pointing at yourself “home.”. Your hand moved into the direction you thought home was and then it struck you. You didn’t have the slightest clue where you were.

“Oh? Right, you’re going to let me walk you to your home?” he taunted, trying desperately hard not to laugh. Disappointed, you frowned at him. “Sorry, ‘course I’ll walk you home, love.” he added, guilt spreading across his chest at the sight of your frown. You smiled; he smiled.

“Okay, so. My friends, kind of, dragged me here. And I don’t know where I am, or how to get home. So what if you walked me to your home? you offered, grinning over to him sheepishly. You felt a little guilty, dropping that on Remus all at once. But, you’d leap at the chance to spend anymore time with this man. Wanting to get to know him inside and out, you were desperate to continue talking to him.

“This you making a move on me?” he said, smirking once again. “You can come back to mine, by the way. Might as well go now, can’t see this party getting any better.” he added, standing up. Offering out his hand to help you stand, Remus gave you a half smile and you were sure you could’ve died in that moment. Taking his hand, you stumbled into his chest. ‘Typical’ you thought to yourself as you frowned at the cliche of the situation.

“Sorry. I want cookies, do you have cookies at yours?” you said, gripping his hand tightly as you walked. He smirked down at you, laughing slightly. Remus couldn’t quite believe his luck. Not only were you absolutely breathtaking, you were also quite infatuated with Remus. The situation ensuing was one he was sure he could get very used to.

The walk back to Remus’s apartment was filled with conversations of interests: music, books, films and hobbies. Hand in hand, the two of you discovered you had a lot more in common than expected. Even despite your contrasting opinions on certain topics. (Cough star wars cough). Remus fumbled slightly with the key before unlocking the door to his apartment holding it open so you could walk in.

“It smells of you.” you stated, looking around at the warm hues which flooded the room. You moved into the lounge; you thought it was the cosiest room you’d ever seen. It screamed Remus. One couch and an arm chair, different pieces of furniture picked up from the side of the street and charity shops. Small coffee tables, shelves and a TV tucked into the corner all built up the atmosphere.

“Funnily enough, it’s where I live.” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone. His hand gently pressed against the small of your back, ushering you out of the living room’s doorway. He gently gripped your waist as he moved past you and into the kitchen. “Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?” he offered, looking over the breakfast bar at you. Currently, you were glazing your fingers across the spines of books stored on a shelf in the lounge.

“Hot chocolate please.” you mumbled in response, picking out ‘The picture of Dorian Gray’. “This is a bit beaten up.” you commented, giggling lightly as you flipped it over in your hands.

“Dorian’s had a lot of love, what can I say.” he said, smiling over at you as he pulled the mugs down from the cupboard. Then, he filled and began boiling the kettle - a very mundane task. You quickly put the book back and began admiring the rest of his collection. Carefully, you read the blurbs of books you didn’t recognise You tried to ignore the feeling of Remus’s you following you. Truthfully, he was admiring you and wondering how Sirius of all people had been the reason you met. You didn’t seem like the type for Sirius at all, which sort of explains why you were in his apartment now. He needed to ask you out and soon, Remus told himself. Maybe it was all in the wrong order, but he didn’t care. He was in fact just as desperate to get to know you as you were for him.

[k-4-ni]

TW: possessive!Jason, yandere! Jason, one random look and he's already frothing at the mouth lmao.

STALKING IS NEVER OKAY.

Not if Jason does it.

Stalking creates uncertainty, and severe levels of anxiety and fear, and can absolutely destroy or disrupt lives. It can involve harsh—even brutal—violence. Stalking involves a habit of overtly illicit and/or seemingly innocent behaviour that makes victims fear for themselves or others, illegal in all 50 glorious states of the United States of America.

Not if Jason does it.

From once simple glance at you, innocently sipping at your caramel frappuccino in a local coffee shop, the way your hair ever so perfectly curled and swayed, cascading down your back in a flawless pattern, made him wonder what burying his nose in such soft strands would feel like, Would you smell like coconut? Vanilla? Lavender?

Maybe strawberry shortcake?

It wasn't just your hair that left Jason ogling at you, It was your skin, It was your legs, You're perfect... Perfect complexion, Thank fuck he was a vigilante.

The way your soft and lanky fingers rapidly tapped across your laptop, made him wonder what you worked as, Doctor? Assistant? Teacher?

Maybe a nurse?

From the moment he fixed his eyes on you, it was like a scar, his eyes burning his initials across your neck and your shiny, silky legs.

Night after that specific night, it was like you left a footprint in his memory, Gotham was a boring old city, sure he grew up here all his life— but no one caught his eye, no one left a mark inside of his heart, no one made his knees wobbly or his heart throb in his chest just from one glance.

No one like you.

Let's face it, He was Jason todd, Redhood, what would a perfect girl like you do with him? How was he going to fit you in his schedule? From saving the city and trying to save you? From what?

He didn't care.

Aslong as he had you in his arms, he didn't care about anything else.

Gotham could burn to pieces for all he cared.

Fuck, he was going insane.

A/N: hey....🙂

even I don't know why I just randomly stopped posting but im hereeeeee.

I've been writing a stalking thingy for jason it just needs a few corrections and ill be able to post it, how have y'all been tho?

ALSO 100 DOEJEIDKSK WHY ARE THERE 145 OF YOU?!

But this is just the introduction for the series, I'll see you guys later tho!

[aka-indulgence]

Something on the Graveyard Wall

Hey are you interested in kissing a Ravioli? Because I want to kiss a Ravioli. Here’s my version of a first meeting :b

(Ravioli x F!Reader No content warnings)

—————

It was a brisk night. You shuddered as you tucked your scarf back around you. The weather’s been steadily cooling over the past month, but it’s really started to bite you.

I wish I brought a hat with me… you thought, as the wind brushed your hair. You grip onto the bag and trudge forward.

Your lips twist when you approach the old graveyard. It was one of those graveyards that’s been around for hundreds of years. During the day you do feel the somber air, sometimes you’ve seen people with black umbrellas visiting on rainy days, but at night you just want to walk past it as fast as possible. The nice thing is, the Bad Vibes™ from it seem to deter most people from it, so strangely, its one of the safest ways home.

You’ve walked by countless times, but you always feel your hair stand whenever you walk past it, especially in front of the wrought iron gates that always seemed to creak whenever you weren’t looking. This night you were especially unsettled- the moon was full and high in the sky, the clouds obscured it, and there almost looked to be a mist in the graveyard.

You keep your eyes in front of you while you pass the gates, the graveyard now covered by a tall wall. You start to relax a bit when you find a strange shadow on the ground.

Your walk comes to a stop as you observe it, from a distance. It was a curved shape, long. That’s not normal. You don’t know why you have a strange sense of premonition when your eyes trail up to where it’s coming from and-

… What is that.

A man? Person? Creature? Was standing on top of the graveyard wall. Two bright, mismatched yellow eyes watched you from within its hoodie. It didn’t… look like there was a face obscured by the shadows, all you saw was darkness behind those eyes.

Something tells you this thing is probably not human! Hahaha!

Your eyes widened and your grip on your bag became deathly.

Its eyes were piercing you.

What is… what is that?! You ask again in your mind, doing your best not to scream. You think- you think your friends talked about different cryptids, but you didn’t like listening to them. You were spooked enough, living near the old graveyard, you didn’t need any stories living rent free in your head to whisper you threats that probably didn’t exist. Except this one, apparently.

You think you’ve heard of this creature, he was pretty popular with the townsfolk, you’ve heard of someone mentioning their grandpa of seeing it back in the 70s, you think. The “smiler”? “Mouth”? “The centipede”?

Inhumanely tall and lanky, jacket wearing… thing, with stitched sleeves and a completely void-black face, save for two eyes. Sounds about right.

Now you wished you had a list of all the cryptid “dos and donts” you’ve heard your friends talk about. What was it you’re supposed to do… don’t look at it? Or was it to nod your head at him and ask ‘how’s the weather, mr. jaws?’? No- wait, that’s for Mr. Jaws, obviously…

You were stuck in a staring contest with it. Your eyes feel dry. The ‘smiler’ blinks its eyes incongruously. You sweat, not knowing if this is making things worse.

You try to pretend that he’s just a weirdly shaped lamp post and start speed-walking, but then- were you supposed to stay still like a statue until it moves on? Or was that for another creature?

You almost start to a sprint when you see it move.

“E-EEeeee!!” you freeze. It comes down arms first, stretching down to the ground, its body sliding down the wall behind it. It falls into a heap on the ground for a few seconds… then its legs and arms together push it up back into standing, stretching and bending in ways that make it look like it didn't have joints. Or bones.

You tremble as it rises to its full height- must be more than twice of you! It looks like it doesn’t have much support to stand on, wobbling ever so slightly. It regards you with… curiosity?

It doesn’t react. Standing in your way from a peaceful, monster-free walk home.

Your mouth tastes sour. You can’t tell if you’re shivering because of the cold or him.

“H… hello?” You greet, hoarsely.

Were you supposed to talk to it? Or was this one of the monsters you should never try to speak with it?

The Smiler’s head rolls to the side like a ball, like something with no neck would be capable of. Its hands hang under him, close to the ground.

It makes a sound you can only describe as “???”

It lifts its hand towards you.

Nope nope nope nope, you stressed in your head as you stumbled back and away from it, but its other hand snatches you around your upper arm.

You squeak as you’re pulled under the towering creature, it’s long arms becoming liquid and stretching in various ways. It leans forwards, curling in a U-shape to be closer to your eye level; which means he’s twisted directly above your head, and you have to tilt your face up to look at him in the eyes.

Your throat tightens and your breath comes out in little puffs. Are you… supposed to scream now? Can you?

Its other hand reaches for your face. You want to smack it away, but your body is filled with cement, and you can’t move. You squeeze your eyes shut as it approaches and… pokes your cheek.

You blink an eye open. Its freed your arm now, and is starting to poke, prod… and pinch your cheeks. All the while its pupils grow in its eyes.

“... soft.”

“Uh… h-huh??”

Its eyes drift down to the bag pinched under your arm. And all of a sudden, both its too-long arms with too-sharp fingers are rummaging through your bag.

“What the- hey!”

It pulls out two things. One of them a little mint you got from work, and another your lipstick.

“Put that back!”

It blinks when you snatch the lipstick out of its hand (You’re not letting it play with your good lipstick!), but doesn’t seem to mind, instead turning its attention to the mint. You lean away as it tears the wrapping apart, and flings the candy into its hood.

You don’t… see a mouth… but you definitely hear him chewing.

Its eye widens, turning a softer, more orange yellow, curving into a happy shape.

“hee…… hehehe…”

Somehow, it both sounds like a young boy and an unfathomably ancient creature. Giggling playfully, but in a way that sounded like you were the toy.

It turns its eyes back towards you and leans closer. You grimace.

“U-um- do you want more? You can have more!” you chuckle nervously, reaching around for your second mint, presenting it to him. It stares at it for a moment, then takes it out of your hand with its long, spindly fingers. It brushes over your palm, and you do your best to hide your shudder. It looks at the mint like you’ve given it a precious treasure, then back at you.

You sidestep your way around it and bring your hands up in surrender. “W-well, I hope you like it, but I have to go home now, so- bye!”

You spun around and walked away, taking steps as big as you could possibly manage, all the while feeling those eyes bore a hole in your back. The ‘very normal walk’ turns into a sprint once you’ve turned a corner. You couldn’t get home any sooner.

… The creature stands where you left it, bent (more like curled) over, holding the mint in its hand. It turns away from the corner you left and back at the candy.

It pokes it, then rubs its fingers together, where it touched you. A smile emerges from the darkness of its face, and its eyes turn red.

“... pretty……”

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: just wanted to do something in honor of sorry boys going on hiatus. this is entirely based on their last video so watch that to understand the silly headcanon time. cc!wilbur likers will be blocked by the way, thanks. get out of here

↳ warnings: none. just the four members here. four original, and only, members of sorry boys. no one else

↳ song: campus—vampire weekend

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• You'd think that an afternoon shift at a trampoline park would be easy; especially on the down days. Hanging around the snack bar with your employees, blowing whistles at loud kids, and keeping whatever was left in the lost and found bin became something of a daydream to you upon first getting hired

• It was a better alternative to the fast food joint you had worked previously at a crazed food van—you'd rather do anything but that after quitting

• Your first tip that things weren't going to be that easy should have been the camera crew that shuffled in on your second week, lead in part by a blonde guy with a stack of pre-signed waivers in his hand

• "What's up with that?" You turned to your only other coworker at the hour, a lanky guy with a mask and fluffed up hair. You thought you remember his name starting with an R or something along the lines of that, but mostly you referred to him as 'dude' or 'hey you.' He never felt the need to correct you, so you just never stopped

• "Oh yeah." He'd responded with a tired voice while barely even looking around. "Uh, we have a group that comes in every few days and rents out the place. I've seen them bouncing around, and I'm not really sure they're, uh, stable I guess you could say."

• Glancing down from the reception desk and to the play floor below, you caught a glimpse of the three others he spoke of, one being the blonde kid from earlier, surrounded by a few cameras and doing some rather weak jump moves. One in a red fat suit fell over at one point and refused to get up as he rolled around on the floor whining

• "Er," You took a step out of the reception desk area as you pointed a finger down at the scene. "Shouldn't one of us be down there? Supervising, and all that." You neglected to mention that one of the men looked old enough to be your father and should probably be mediating them

• For a moment you thought your coworker would shrug and tell you to go on, but he just sighed and grabbed his whistle like a weary office worker preparing for a morning round

• "At least this time I won't be alone." He looked at you. The eyebags under his eyes made you feel like he'd done this a lot more than he'd ever wanted to, despite only being at work a few weeks more than you

• The next few minutes went by fine. You were mostly ignored by the two fellows in fat suits as they proceeded to say 'dude' and 'bro' far too much, and was only offered a high five by the same blonde— Tungo you now knew. At one point the cameramen pulled you and the other worked over for a small interview, the likes of which you seemed to enjoy more than him

• The first time either of you really had to step in was when the red fat suit one delved into his shell, yelling something about yoinking his pork

• "Chungus? Chungo?" You managed to say his name without somehow laughing. "Please don't do that. We're gonna have some problems if you continue to."

• As Chounce popped his head out like a cartoon character to look at you, you offered a wobbly smile, and was severely relieved when he finally brought his hands out of his suit to cross them

• "For the record dude I wasn't even pulling my plug." He frowned, having the decency to look midly embarrassed. "I was just thinking about my feelings, bro."

• You got a thankful look from your fellow employee at your successful endeavors

• The both of you continued to watch as a competition between Chounce and Tungo occurred, eventually somehow turning into a fight between them as the self proclaimed Master Za watched

• In reality, you were pretty sure their real names all aligned somewhere along the lines of Tommy Charlie and Phil, if the signatures on their wavers spoke for anything, but none of them seemed to call each other anything but nonsense

• At one point, you were compelled enough by the entertainment to purchase a bag of popcorn from the snack desk, earning a look at disappointment from your coworker as he saw

• "Please don't encourage them." He dragged a hand down his face, careful not to knock his mask off

• "I don't think it'd matter if I did or didn't." You smiled through a mouthful. "Just look at 'em." You waved at the kid zone they'd all migrated too in the last hour or two, currently kissing Master Za on the face as he yelped in protest

• "Wait." Your hand lowered slowly as you blinked. "That's not allowed—"

• The two of you took off in their direction, using your whistles for what felt like the hundredth time that day as you ran

• By the time closing hours came around, it was dark enough outside to make you yawn. It took a significant amount of convincing to get the three of them, mostly Chounce, to leave and stop bouncing, but it eventually worked with a few well placed bribes. Namely, handfuls from your unfinished chip bag from earlier

• "You weren't all that bad! Not a wrong'un after all." Tungo eventually confided in you in front of everyone as you went to close up, looking strangely proud about such a mediocre compliment. You grinned at him anyways, finding him to be one of the saner ones throughout the whole ordeal

• "Maybe next time I could judge a match of yours, yeah?" You offered as you thumbed through the cash in the register

• "Please do not encourage them." A familiar voice from outside sounded for the second time that day, making you suck air between your teeth in an attempt not to snort with laughter

• "And remember to check the bathrooms before you leave. One of them likes to hide in them after we close."

• "Sorry, what—"

• You ended up having to drag Chounce out bt his ankles that night and into Master Za's car so he could get home

• "You know what? It's still better than the food truck."

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Can you write something with gale and Maureen? Like him taking care of her when she’s sick? Or trying to help her fall asleep?

Love this request doll, thank you. I’ve gotten quite a few requests asking for a fic of him taking care of her when she’s sick/cold, etc, and while I’ll certainly write another corresponding with those, I felt like yours gave me a chance to establish a little chronology of his doting on her. Which leads us to—helping her fall asleep on the:

First Night

It had been lights out for over an hour now, and still, Gale could sense the shifting restless around him. As the men’s initial post-battle fatigue had lessened and the dull predictability of one’s camp days settled in, the nights became longer, less restful and more of a routine than a respite. They could lay in their beds most the day or else walk and sit and lay somewhere else, there was no exhausted relief to be found climbing into a bunk. Gale missed the taxing demand for rest that came with a regimented military life. He knew he wasn’t alone in it.

Now there was the invigorating addition of the presence of the women at camp, and like kids at a sleepover -or so Gale heard sleepovers were like that, he’d never been to one- all rooms were filled with restless chit chat and lack of calm. He’d had to go along the hall of his integrated combine before lights out to warn everyone to shush it.

At least they were amalgamating well.

There was so much to catch up on by each crew and any new bit of information a new prisoner carried in was worth more than Broadway tickets back home, added to that was the old natural way of men not knowing when to shut the hell up around the fairer sex.

So Gale had knocked on doors and doused lightbulbs like the bucket of cold water that he was, and then returned to his own bunk in the subsequent quiet, only to cave and allow John Brady thirty more minutes of risky light use to keep mending -and watch his tolerably death-like and unconscious sister as she shallowly breathed on a lower bunk.

Gale had once hauled himself up and out of his second tier bunk opposite her to put his hand in front of Ida’s lips, she had gotten so still for a bit. “You should sleep by her.” he told Brady, recalling times his father’s warmth had been the only thing to keep him alive some nights in the park. He was rather certain Johnny meant to do it anyway, but he wasn’t a readable fella and his curt nod was all Gale got along with the ever faithful, “yes sir.”

When Gale had finally demanded they cut the bulb, he watched as Brady carefully climbed in and lay behind Ida without disturbing her, two lanky, stacked sardines with plenty of room and not enough fat on either of them to keep a water bottle thawed in this weather. Gale shrugged and flicked the light -family genes couldn’t be helped.

What could be helped was Maureen’s dripping hair. After the showers she had sat herself down at the table and demanded they deal her a hand of cards, burnt auburn hair dripping ice water down the back of her borrowed shirt.

Her shivers rattled her so badly she had dropped her cards multiple times, made worse by her mangled hands. They’d paused the game to have Hambone and Tallulah come in and wrench her middle and fourth fingers straight. Hamilton swore he had experience from his own injuries and T. Smith had grown up on a farm, excellent referrals both. The ordeal could’ve been worse, Gale supposed.

Benny had gagged while watching it, Gale had wanted to while holding her wrist down, Hambone had growled “fuck” more times than John had ever heard him during a mission and Ida didn’t even wake from Maureen’s yells -so out of it was she on the bunk she’d wobbled into and fallen asleep on.

Now Maureen sat stubbornly at the table in the dark, still consulting her deck of cards as if she could discern a diamond from a spade.

“Bed.” Gale told her despite her petulance, and the boys were good enough not to encourage her rebellion for once, taking themselves to their own bunks with little fanfare, “Don’t wanna get us in trouble for lights on your first night do ya? Make Ida stand out in the cold for inspections? Good, because I don’t want you out there with that hair.”

“It’s taking forever to dry and I don’t want to get my pillow wet.” Maureen protested.

“You can’t just sit here in the dark.” he muttered.

“Johnny would’ve.” she hit back. Gale wasn’t sure since when John Brady had been the yardstick by which Maureen measured human behavior, but it had been about as long as Gale knew her.

“Yeah but now Johnny’s in bed like a good boy.” Gale observed.

He heard someone titter and if he had to throw a dart at the offender in the gray dark it would be aimed towards Demarco’s bunk. “Johnny hasn’t got my hair. Ida either…anymore.” she added with childlike insensitivity.

“You should braid it.” Demarco’s voice suggested from the dark of his bunk.

“Hands can’t do squat.” Maureen was starting to sound offended by how often they forgot about her hands. She’d dropped her cards as often from their gnarled swelling as from her shivers, and every time one of the guys tried to ignore it or give a kinder explanation she would hold them up like she wanted them to recall what she was working with. Most of the fellas would’ve rather looked into hell’s portal than keep contemplating her hands or what they meant.

“Lemme braid your hair.” Gale told her, he didn’t ask and he didn’t thank Benny for the suggestion.

Maureen scoffed as he scooped up the frigid, wet strands from her shoulders and began to divide them in his hands. “Like you know how.”

“I do.” he patiently insisted after a few moments of the more convincing argument of his actually braiding it.

“Who else have you done this for? Who taught you?” Maureen’s jealousy was palpable to everyone and even Brady snickered softly at her this time.

“Horses, Maureen. My uncle had horses.”

Maureen didn’t reply to that, in fact, besides brawling japes during cards and her arguments against bedtime,

she hadn’t said much since coming back from the showers. She was cold to the touch when Gale finished his braid and squeezed the last bit of wet he could from the woven rope and then he bodily deposited her in her bunk. An adjacent one to his, on the same level, their heads were nearly beside each other’s in the cramped stack.

And now, an hour afterwards, everyone was still tossing in the dark except for Ida and her brother, and Gale had no peace with Maureen’s chattering teeth just a few inches away and her crushed hands dancing in front of his eyes everytime he closed them.

He thought of a lot of things to whisper to her, questions, comforts, even jokes. They never got out of his tightening throat as sixty minutes ticked by and he kept staring up at the slats of the bunk above him like that would keep the flashing image of her hands away. Suddenly the chatter of teeth stopped and he felt himself begin to relax in turn, hopeful she’d drifted off.

The unmistakable sound of a sob followed shortly after and it messed with the rhythm of his heart worse than jumping from his spiraling plane had.

“Maureen?” he questioned softly, as if there could be any doubt.

The sobs only gained frequency and vigor. Gale rolled himself over on his belly, and without thinking it through for once, impulsively threaded his arm through the divide to her bunk, laying his arm along her pillow and cupping the cheek closest to him. The humid blast of her breath against his palm tore at him and he thumbed over her wobbling lips. “Maureen,” he begged again, hoarse from his damn throat and in an effort to be quiet, “what- what is it?”

What can I do?—is what he meant.

“Having a cry Cleven.” She informed him angrily and without discretion in her volume except for what her sniffles required, “Can’t a gal have a well earned cry? Told you I wouldn’t manage to sleep.”

Ah, so the cry was his fault. Gale sighed and couldn’t help his sideways glance at Ida’s bunk. Not that he wanted such unnatural, deathly peace for Maureen. It would scare the fuck out of Gale, just as it was scaring the fuck outta Johnny who Gale knew was owl eyed awake right across from him and his now sobbing bombardier.

“I’m sorry.” Gale offered her impotently, childish habits coming to the fore in his helplessness, -how sorry he’d been time and again growing up, sorry for wall street crashing and Hoover having won that last time and the fact there weren’t any more quarters left for a soda and that the malnourished dog lost that one race and being sorry, so goddamn sorry all the damn time just so his father would finally absolve him with, “it’s ok, son” in return.

“And now my pillow’s wet!” -Maureen never absolved him of shit, she piled on and somehow Gale found himself devoted to that honest cruelty too, in a more mature, twisted, fucked sorta way. “I told you my pillow would get wet and I’d be cold!”

“You can have mine.” he tried.

“Oh yeah, and get it wet too.” her anger huffed out into his palm and it made him feel funny, like he was feeling her breath all along him, her emotion too, her outright disapproval of him. It always made him feel funny, feel desperate without feeling wrong or sorry. He’d never taken the fall for something that wasn’t his to own up to, not since he became a man. Not until her. He felt himself swelling against the mattress and wanted to say sorry for that, too.

—can’t help it around you.

He’d taken up excuse making as well since her, it proved so damn effective. Way more than his apologies.

“I could use cooling down.” he realized aloud and tugged her damp pillow out from under her head without warning, “Don’t fuckin’ test me Kendeigh, not tonight.” he warned at her stiff neck as he used her braid to lift her head and slide his under her head.

He settled his confiscated pillow closer to hers, his cheek pressed to her tears and shower wet, their heads practically aligned and in the dim light he could make out the curve of her nose. Such a pretty nose, he’d been enchanted with it from the minute she cocked her head at him in the glass nose of Our Baby.

Maureen had stopped crying. Her arm swung above her head and slithered under his blankets until she’d grabbed hold of what she wanted, bringing his hand up by the wrist until it was cupping her cheek again. She nuzzled her face into it and kissed his palm, the glitter of her eyes discernible between his fingers to the scrutiny of a lover as enamored as Gale.

“Sorry.” she whispered at long last into his palm and he shuddered.

“Don’t be sorry.” he commanded.

“I feel better.” she said.

“Good.”

Her hand darted out the top of her blanket and cupped his cheek, mirroring him. She thumbed at the smooth skin of his face with a swollen thumb until she found his poorly healed scar. “Wanna give it a try?” she asked. “We swapped pillows, it’s wet anyway, no one would know.”

“I don’t need a cry.” he declined gently.

“Ooh, does my Major need other things?” Maureen’s voice had gone saucy -and thankfully hushed- despite the stuffed up quality of her nose but the thought of her hands curdled his reaction to the tease immediately.

“No.” he breathed, hating the crowded room and the faux intimacy of this moment. Maureen was always more immune to intrusion but he couldn’t pretend to match her. “I just need you safe.” he begged, for if her ordeal had ended at her arrival here, he felt his had just begun.

The thumb stroking Gale’s cheek dipped lower until it was tracing his upper lip, slipping to the crease of his mouth, gently parting his plush lips until she had her finger past them, resting on his teeth. “I’m with you.” Maureen muttered, “Of course I’ll be safe.”

Gale closed his mouth around her, tongue lathing at the pad of her thumb, cheeks hollowed in an innate impulse for suction. Maureen’s presence made him feel odd, always had. Her nose came to rest against his and that was the last he recalled of the night, the gusts of her breath evening out against his face, the weight of her thumb on his tongue, the drowsy and unheeded regret that he had already compromised so far on their first night.

When he was startled awake next morning by a shake to the shoulder, mouth dry and her thumb still between his teeth, Cleven could only be grateful it was by Brady and unseen by the rest of the still sleeping men. The fact Maureen seemed to have been already awake and merely staring at him while he slept was another unsettling matter. As were the deep circles under Brady’s soft eyes: the kid looked like he hadn’t slept a wink and Gale wondered briefly how long his poor subordinate had stared at his bunk and hoped the thumb would fall out before rousing his superior. Or if Maureen had made eye contact during it. Oh for God’s sake...

Obviously Brady’s patience had run out with a hard shake, because -“It’s Ida, she won’t fuckin’ respond but she’s bowin’ up till I think her neck might snap.”

Well that got Gale tumbling out of bed.

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[romancingdaffodils]

Drunken Monologues

And you’re draped on him, whilst you’re staring at me.

Remus Lupin x reader

You’re drunk. You’ve met a man with lovely hair and a lovely face, who also has an even lovelier friend. Turns out you’d end up going home with the lovelier friend - which causes the beginning of a rather long story. A story that hasn’t been written yet. PS. you weren’t really that drunk x(literally). Also sirius is a punk and u all need to accept he would hate Queen!!!!

haiii i love remus lupin

gender neutral reader as always!!!

it’s kinda long but also i met my best friend yesterday which is totally awesome love you alex so y should all be grateful u actually got this. it kinda sucks but also flip u so. (love you guys so much)

part two probably coming soon.

titles stolen from: No.1 Party Anthem - Arctic Monkeys Come Closer - Miles Kane

“Moony!” Sirius shouted, walking over to the lanky man. You were clinging onto Sirius’s arm, giggling over whatever joke he had just told about the Sex Pistols. “I’ve found my dream lover! Knows The Clash and Pistols. Even, Ramones I mean, come on it’s the way to my heart.” he stated, gesturing to you. Dragging your eyes away from Sirius, you peered up at Remus and your jaw went slack. He was your type to the tee. Tall, thin, soft brown locks and full lips. The scars only made him look even better. His everything was completely and utterly perfect in your not so humble opinion.

“Happy for you Pads.” Remus said, rolling his eyes. Then, he looked down at you and the worst happened - he caught you staring. Your open mouth, which you were practically drooling from, was a slight give away that Sirius was no longer your top priority. Only slight. “Oh, shit.” he muttered under his breath.

“Oi! What’re you staring at him like that for? You didn’t look at me like that.” Sirius whined, looking down at you.

“I like your music taste, and your hair. You’re fit. But, him? He’s fucking gorgeous.” you replied, pointing over at Remus. The vodka must’ve gone to your head because you never would’ve said that in a normal state. However, you didn’t remove your arm from Sirius’s. Mostly for balance, which was a little selfish, but desperate times. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to avoid Sirius’s gaze of pure disbelief.

“Not to be rude Remus or anything, but you seriously think he’s better looking than me? I know he’s fit, but I’m me.” the black haired boy argue, flicking his eyes between the two of you.

“You’re both good looking, he’s just more to my taste. Look at him, he’s so pretty. But, in a different way to you. See you’re all tidy and your hair is in better condition than mine. He’s so.. oh I just want to bite him. What’s his name again?” you rambled, never taking your own eyes from Remus. The taller man was trying desperately hard not to laugh at Sirius’s complete shock, which was an almost impossible task.

“Fine then, go hang off of his arm.” Sirius said, holding you out towards him. You immediately stumbled towards Remus, by your own choice.

“Gladly. Hiiiiii.” you cooed, using his shoulders for balance. “I’m really quite tired and— Oh. Shit. Think I need some air.” you added, holding onto Remus’s bicep for dear life. Your knees had buckled and the brown haired man barely caught you. However, his hands did reach your waist to keep you stood up straight.

“Think you need something more than air. Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Remus replied, chuckling lightly at the way you were peering up at him “Think you hurt Sirius’s feelings.” he added, continuing on the conversation as he sat you down outside of the house.

“Reckon he’ll get over it, he had a swarm of fans following him around. Got me absolutely pissed though. Not on purpose, I was just trying to keep up with him.” you said, rubbing your temples. Your speech was fine, but your legs were a little wobbly. Everything just felt slow. To be completely honest, you weren’t even that drunk, but if it meant spending more time with Remus? You’d pretend to be hammered all day everyday.

“Yeah, he tends to have that affect on people. What’s your name again?” he said, quoting you to you. He smirked down at you. It was a little comforting to know he was genuinely paying attention to you.

You mumbled your name to him and tried desperately hard not to imagine yourself wrapped up in Remus’s arms. Or tucked away asleep in his bed, kissing him or dancing with him in your living room. With alcohol still flowing in your system, you decided now was the perfect time to make another move. “Meant what I said about you before, by the way. You are- indescribable.” you stated, staring up at him once again.

“Yeah? Glad you think so, you’re also drunk.” he replied, sitting down beside you. His face flushed slightly and you saw, but decided that commenting on it might scare him off.

“Mmmhm, maybe you should give me your number and, and your home address. Then, the next time you’re free so I can show you the prettiest book shop. I’m just assuming you like books, you seem like the smart type. By that I mean you dress like and old man, don’t get me wrong I’m into it, but you do.” you rambled, eyes following him as he moved beside you.

“Really? I’ll give you my number and I do like books. Good assumption?” he chuckled and his hair flopped in front of his eyes. You wanted to eat him, which is an odd statement really, but it was the truth.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you,” you pointed to him as you spoke. “walk me” you continued, pointing at yourself “home.”. Your hand moved into the direction you thought home was and then it struck you. You didn’t have the slightest clue where you were.

“Oh? Right, you’re going to let me walk you to your home?” he taunted, trying desperately hard not to laugh. Disappointed, you frowned at him. “Sorry, ‘course I’ll walk you home, love.” he added, guilt spreading across his chest at the sight of your frown. You smiled; he smiled.

“Okay, so. My friends, kind of, dragged me here. And I don’t know where I am, or how to get home. So what if you walked me to your home? you offered, grinning over to him sheepishly. You felt a little guilty, dropping that on Remus all at once. But, you’d leap at the chance to spend anymore time with this man. Wanting to get to know him inside and out, you were desperate to continue talking to him.

“This you making a move on me?” he said, smirking once again. “You can come back to mine, by the way. Might as well go now, can’t see this party getting any better.” he added, standing up. Offering out his hand to help you stand, Remus gave you a half smile and you were sure you could’ve died in that moment. Taking his hand, you stumbled into his chest. ‘Typical’ you thought to yourself as you frowned at the cliche of the situation.

“Sorry. I want cookies, do you have cookies at yours?” you said, gripping his hand tightly as you walked. He smirked down at you, laughing slightly. Remus couldn’t quite believe his luck. Not only were you absolutely breathtaking, you were also quite infatuated with Remus. The situation ensuing was one he was sure he could get very used to.

The walk back to Remus’s apartment was filled with conversations of interests: music, books, films and hobbies. Hand in hand, the two of you discovered you had a lot more in common than expected. Even despite your contrasting opinions on certain topics. (Cough star wars cough). You ended up bonding over a love for classic novels and philosophy. Which does sound slightly nerdy, but you had already come to terms with that anyway.

Remus fumbled slightly with the key before unlocking the door to his apartment holding it open so you could walk in.

“It smells of you.” you stated, looking around at the warm hues which flooded the room. You moved into the lounge; you thought it was the cosiest room you’d ever seen. It screamed Remus. One couch and an arm chair, different pieces of furniture picked up from the side of the street and charity shops. Small coffee tables, shelves and a TV tucked into the corner all built up the atmosphere.

“Funnily enough, it’s where I live.” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone. His hand gently pressed against the small of your back, ushering you out of the living room’s doorway. He gently gripped your waist as he moved past you and into the kitchen. “Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?” he offered, looking over the breakfast bar at you. Currently, you were glazing your fingers across the spines of books stored on a shelf in the lounge.

“Hot chocolate please.” you mumbled in response, picking out ‘The picture of Dorian Gray’. “This is a bit beaten up.” you commented, giggling lightly as you flipped it over in your hands.

“Dorian’s had a lot of love, what can I say.” he said, smiling over at you as he pulled the mugs down from the cupboard. Then, he filled and began boiling the kettle - a very mundane task. You quickly put the book back and began admiring the rest of his collection. Carefully, you read the blurbs of books you didn’t recognise You tried to ignore the feeling of Remus’s eyes following you. Truthfully, he was admiring you and wondering how Sirius of all people had been the reason you met. You didn’t seem like the type for Sirius at all, which sort of explains why you were in his apartment now. He needed to ask you out and soon, Remus told himself. Maybe it was all in the wrong order, but he didn’t care. He was in fact just as desperate to get to know you as you were for him.

“Clearly.” you replied, smiling over at him. Little did you know you were in for more than you bargained for.