#but man does she run like a snail

[mushtoons]

resetting our whole computer in an attempt to make it run faster wish us luck sobs

[madelynraemunson]

— along for the ride ☆

🐃 the tag team (co-writers): @joshlmbrt @swiss-mrs @mediocredreams 🩶

eddie x fem!reader

a/n: reading flight of icarus and finding out eddie is from tennessee REALLY husked my corn 🤠 also, this may or may not have been inspired by the bull fight scene in hoard

cw: daydream p in v sex, riding, eddie gets a hard on watching reader ride, innuendos, play on words

Stamina. Strength. Strategy. Safety. The Four Important S’s when it comes to bull-riding. 

‘Support’ is your unofficial fifth. You’ve generated quite the following after showcasing your riding skills at Whisky Jim’s every Saturday night, the ooohs and aaahs of your spectators filling the air as the spotlight drenches your cute… calculated… perspiring body. 

Bull-riding at the dive bar every weekend has become a favorite hobby of yours. It’s a perfect outlet for all the stress, the rough-and-tough of it all perfectly counterbalancing your slow-as-snails, but somehow busy and draining 9 to 5. Riding gave you something to look forward to.

“Look at her go,” an onlooker coos in admiration. “She’s got life by the goddamn horns.”

You toss your head back, glossy lips parted in excitement as the crowd’s appreciative hoots and whistles filled the air.  You could get used to this. You have gotten used to this.

Even with the world at your feet, things were starting to get boring again. And you are constantly craving something wild, something new. Something or someone that will make like the bull by sweeping you off your feet and taking you out for a spin.

Someone like Eddie Munson, perhaps.

Eddie isn’t sure what drew him… here out of all places. But something about the rowdiness compels him as he climbs out of his van, Halen and into the bar, boots scuffing the hard wooden floor. But the flight-risk metalhead is determined to find out, itching for adventure as he saunters with feigned confidence into the southern saloon. 

He flags down the closest bartender, a country heartthrob of a man with black hair and blue eyes. The Casanaova places a coaster down in front of him as Eddie steps up to the plate. “What’ll ya be havin’?”

“Anything local,” Eddie replies, more of a question, unsure of what exactly is available. “Anything hoppy.”

“Bottle or Tap?” the man follows up after a curt nod, mindlessly running a hand over his thick mustache.

“Tap. Pint, please.”  

The bartender gives another nod before disappearing to fulfill Eddie’s request. Meanwhile, the outcast takes this short window of time to look up and down the bar at the different patrons. 

All from different walks of life. But all here for presumably the same reason.Whisky Jim’s is decently packed, but for the most part, the crowd is congregated either in booths, at tables, or in the middle of the floor.

A glass is placed onto the coaster. The same deep country twang effectively regains Eddie’s attention.

“Wanna start a tab, brother?” The older man asks with a polite grin, eyes crinkling up at the sides as he does. 

Eddie offers a polite smile in return.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.” 

The bartender studies him intently this time, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“First timer?”

 Eddie clears his throat uneasily, kicking at the peanut casings at his feet to avoid contact with the John Wayne of a man that was in front of him.

“Obvious?” 

The man cackles at Eddie, the slight patronization of the old-timer’s demeanor making him want to evaporate. But the amused blue eyes and downturned smile indicates it’s all in good fun, much like his uncle Wayne who always liked giving him a hard time whenever he made himself too small. 

“Son, you couldn’t stick out further if you were a dog’s balls.” 

A fellow bartender laughs at the man’s remark. Then Eddie joins in. It was pretty funny. 

“You just don’t really look like the kind to be into square dancin’, is all,” the bartender remarks as he narrows his eyes at Eddie. Eddie shrugs and takes a sip of his beer, slightly wincing as the first sip hits him.

“Well, you’re not wrong. Just thought I’d explore a bit outside of my usual.” 

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Eddie.”

“Greg.” The bartender gives him his hand to shake. “You from around here or you comin’ from outta town?” 

“Hawkins.” 

“Not too far from home then. And it seems you came on a good night.” 

And as if on cue, the crowd towards the middle of the building erupts in cheers. Eddie briefly glances over his shoulder in the general direction before turning back to Greg with a curious head tilt.

“What’s happening?” 

Greg nods his head over in the direction of the crowd.

“Bull Ridin’ Night.”

Your thighs are wrapped around the firm leather seat as you’re whisked around in one fluid motion. You turn to give your rapt audience a wink. The crowd eats up your presence, evident by the adorn kisses they blow your way. You buy into the theatrics, pretending to catch them before putting them in your back pocket for later. It only riles the audience up more.

“They bring that thing out on Saturdays,” Greg explains. “Between the Karaoke Nights and the Hoedowns, Bull Ridin’ is one of the most popular.”

 Eddie tries another glance in that direction, but due to the crowd, he doesn’t have the best view of who is actually riding.

 “You gon’ give it a try?”

 Eddie’s head whips back around to the older man to find a teasing smirk on his face. Eddie shakes his head.

“I… don’t think so.” He chuckles. “I’m not the most balanced or coordinated person.” He admits that with a grimace and another sip of his Hawkins Pale Ale. 

“I’m just teasin’ ya, boy. HEY!” Greg whistles at the bartender next to him. “Who’s up there now?” 

 The coworker throws a quick glance over their shoulder before replying. There’s a bashful smirk when they reply, 

“Who do you think?” 

The crowd erupts again, cheers and whistles alike. Who else gets this kind of crowd engagement? No one else other than you, of course. 

“Looks like my girl is up there breakin’ hearts again.” Greg lets out a soft laugh. 

Eddie gulps as his breathing shallows. A girl? Up there? On that thing?

Eddie, once again, nearly strains his neck trying to get a glimpse of the rider. When he fails, Eddie turns back to the bar, downing the final quarter of his pint, before looking back at Greg.

“Fetch me a bottle for the road, yeah?”

 Greg issues him a chuckle, grabbing the empty glass and handing him a bottle version of that very ale, while Eddie sets off on his curiosity journey to the middle of the floor.

“Boys will be boys.” Greg’s female coworker remarks with sassy pursed lips.

Eddie closes in on the crowd,  slipping through the few empty spaces between the onlookers with half-assed ‘Excuse me’s. Though no one was paying him any mind. And when he settles by the barrier, just a mere two rows behind, he finally gets the perfect view of you.

Eddie couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face at the sight of you working the crowd. He watches as you give a practiced flick of your hips to get the crowd going and the enticing jiggle of your breasts under your tight shirt. Drew in Eddie’s eyes like a laser beam. The thin material was stretched taut, giving a hint of the perfect tits underneath as you arched your lower back and thrust your chest forward to keep your balance. 

“Christ,” he exhales sharply, in awe of your natural performance, the boisterous, unpredictable gravity of the machine whirling you around as you wrestle to hold on. 

His eyes drink in the sight of the soft, rounded curve of your ass that peeked out of the bottom of your faded Daisy Duke’s as you lean forward to steady yourself in the saddle.

WHOOSH!

The bull jerks sideways and you flex your thighs and circle your hips in the saddle to keep yourself astride. The plush skin of your upper thighs press tightly against the seat and your upper body sways in rhythm with the bull’s movement. 

You were born to ride.

“That’s how you do it, Indiana!” a spectator hoots in adoration as you cling on for dear life. “That’s how you do it!”

You give a deep roll of your hips to meet the thrust of the machine, causing Eddie to run the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip before sucking in a shaky breath. Your hips… the way they roll… is almost hypnotic, and Eddie’s brown doe eyes can’t help but linger on the sliver of skin that peeks out, black, intricate swirls of cyber-sigilism that tease him slightly. 

Fuck.

“God, she’s so pretty…” he thinks to himself. “And she knows how to ride.”

Eddie’s eyes trail to the white of your knuckles, his own fingers gripping the bottle of his beer when his eyes slide up your arm and land on your face.

The front of his pants start to feel uncomfortably tight. Eddie adjusts himself as discreetly as he could, but even the soft brush of his fingers against the strained denim causes  him to hiss under his breath.

“Ride it, cowgirl!” an audience’s comment centers Eddie once again. “LET ‘EM KNOW!”

The way you matched the bull’s gyrations and anticipated its every move made him weak in the knees, and as he watched you swirl your hips in the saddle like a modern day Annie Oakley he couldn’t help but wish it was him straddled between your shapely thighs instead. 

As Eddie stood there watching, the dull roar of the crowd faded into the background. At that moment it was just you and him. 

In his mind he’s already lassoed you to his bed; and you’re sat astride him like a cowgirl in your saddle, hands splayed on his chest for balance as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. And you’d bite down on your plush lower lip and let out a soft moan as you sank down onto him slowly, taking your time and adjusting to his size. 

“Oh, Eddie,” he could almost hear you purring. “It’s so big.”

And he’d chuckle with false modesty and rub a hand tenderly along your thigh as if to soothe the delicious stretch of his thick girth.Then once you adjusted, you’d move, meeting each unpredictable roll of his hips with your own as you mastered the rhythm of your very own long-haired bucking bronco.

And he’d be gripping you tight with each deep thrust, pistoning, plowing himself into you while watching his cock disappear into your slick pussy over and over with each forceful snap of his hips. And with every strained mewl he milks out of you he’d press you down by the hips and drill into you further, your weak cunt just about ready to tap out on top of him. This handsome bull’s sure a challenge, you’d be thinking to yourself. Eddie is a ride you wouldn’t be able to survive.

———

The crowd disperses when the show is over. Eddie stands a bit straighter when you finally leave the middle of the floor, eyes darting towards the plush smirk that your soft lips create. If it’s even possible, he thinks you look even more heavenly. He’s sure you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him. 

Little does he know that for you, he’s taken that same effect. You’ve grown so accustomed to everyone here that a new face has captured your attention. And you felt him staring at you, with a gaze so impassioned that you just about almost lost your footing up there. But you pulled it off real well, attempting to shake off the redirection in the form of a dramatic bounce of your tits.

It perplexes you. A man making you that nervous? Up until late, it’s become rather unheard of. You want to know this man and see for yourself what his energy is all about.

Eddie finds himself fixing his appearance when he notices your legs striding over, clearing his throat as his palm slides over the stubble that he had been trying to grow. 

“You know it’s kinda rude to stare the way that you do,” you remark.

“How so?” Eddie challenges. “Everyone else is doing it. What makes me different from everybody?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” you smile at him.

Eddie shifts his weight onto the counter, bringing the bottle up to his lips, taking another gulp. His eyes dart everywhere -- the metal buckle of your belt, the skin that was shiny with dried sweat, your hands that tap at the sticky countertop of the bar, the way your lips wrap around the tip of your bottle and the liquid that slips out and down your chin that he greedily wanted to tongue away. 

“Funny,” you observe. “I’m here every Saturday and I’ve never once seen your face.”

He thinks he’s looking over at an angel, really, heart beating faster when he realizes it’s him that you’d made an effort to come up to. Made an effort to get to know.

“Interesting that you saw me.”

“I see everything from up there. And you’re a newcomer, I can tell. Sticking out like a sore thumb in the best way.”

You invite him into your energy, closing up the distance between the two of you with a graceful stride in his direction.

“You were amazing,” Eddie says to you. “Really know how to put on a show, cowgirl.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie insists. “Spotlight loves you. Killer crowd engagement as well.”

“You a performer too?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Mmm, I don’t know…” you sigh dreamily. “Just a fellow performer lookin’ for some tips and pointers.”

Not much needs to be said to know that you two ache for each other, judging by how the intimate dive bar grows non-existent for as long as you two are captured in the forcefield of each other. Eddie thinks that there would be absolutely nothing better than giving you some pointers, his hand leaving the bottle, some of the liquid sloshing around the precipitating glass, heart pounding in his ears as he nods quickly. One rowdy night wouldn’t hurt anybody, he thinks to himself. And it’s very apparent that, the stunner that is you, wants take him for a spin.

“So what do you say, cowboy?” you cock an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t we ride off into the sunset, just you and me?”

dividers by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @saradika @mikeykuns

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

i cannot stop thinking about eddie watching steve fuck you while he jerks himself off. steve and you are both subby and desperate, whining and writhing, while eddie is smug as he keeps instructing you two on what to do, telling steve to fill you up so he can have his turn

eddie would 100% do this!

I can see it happening at steve’s place. he finally gets his own, and eddie would propose the idea as his version of a “housewarming gift.” of course, you and steve are on board for it; it sounds like fun, so why not? after all, it isn’t every day that eddie, who gets mad when another man so much as looks at you, proposes something like that.

the three of you go into the bedroom, where eddie instructs you & steve to derobe one another. you do so slowly, all while making out and allowing your hands to wander, while eddie sits back and watches. steve starts kissing all over your body once you’re completely naked, mumbling about how beautiful you are and how much he’s been thinking about this particular moment for so long. but this is when eddie would begin telling him what to do, and he would do it with the smuggest grin on his face.

“nah, man, suck her tits,” he says. “she loves it when you bite her nipples a little, too.”

so steve would do that, delighting in the moans it would bring from your lips. he would suck generously, biting them as softly as he could, while his hands ran up your back. eddie would be groaning, watching closely, making sure steve was doing it correctly. if, at any time, it appears he isn’t, eddie would roll his eyes and step between you two.

“like this,” he tells steve, flicking your nipple with his tongue before sucking harshly while you cry out. “don’t be afraid to get a little rough. you’re not going to break her.”

eddie talks steve through eating you out next, and he also talks you through it as well. he tells you to pull steve’s hair, to grind his face, to cum “like a good girl” for him. he starts palming himself the entire time, moaning on the bed next to you as steve makes you cum not once, but twice, all over his face & fingers.

“man, you’re right,” steve says, kissing your inner thighs as you mewl. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a girl cum that hard before.”

“i’m the champ, what can i say?” eddie says with a smirk, nodding toward you. “fuck her now, steve; she’s ready.”

steve climbs on top of you and pushes inside upon your consent, causing you both to moan. he seats fully inside of you, and you clench instinctively as steve groans. eddie is still watching, pulling his cock out as he starts to slowly jerk himself off. steve thrusts slowly, whining slightly as he feels your tight wetness hugging his thick, long cock. he looks down at you, stroking your hair in one hand as he keeps moving his hips.

“go a little faster, man,” eddie instructs. “you don’t have to go at a snail’s pace.”

steve does so, and you grab onto him as he hits your sweet spot. “steve..”

“i love it when you say my name,” he breathes, moaning as you clench around him again. “don’t do that.”

“what’s she doing?” eddie asks.

“clenching,” steve says.

“quit it, y/n,” eddie demands.

“i can’t help it,” you say. “he feels so good…”

eddie reaches over and grabs your throat, looking down at you. “and i said stop it.”

“sorry,” you say, looking back up at steve when eddie lets you go. “both of you.”

“lean down and suck her nipples again,” eddie says.

steve does so, causing you to writhe under him. steve buries his face against your chest, whining as he keeps rutting. you run your hands through his hair, tugging as he starts placing soft kisses along your skin. eddie jerks off a little faster, moaning beside you, and soon, he’s giving another instruction.

“turn him over and ride him, y/n,” eddie says. “give him a show.”

so you do, and the sounds of eddie jerking off are even louder now. his moans echo with yours & steve’s, and eddie tells him to touch your breasts as you ride him. steve is desperate now, whining and panting, and you can tell he’s close. you lean down and bury your face in his neck, and then eddie is speaking again.

“roll her over again,” he says to steve. “i know you’re both being submissive right now, but finish her. i’m ready for my turn.”

steve does as he’s told, and listens to everything else eddie tells him. he throws your legs over his waist to get a deeper angle, he kisses your neck, he fucks you with deep, slow thrusts, and you’re both incredibly desperate by that point. eddie tells him to rub your clit in slow, hard circles, and that’s what eventually sends you over the edge. steve follows shortly after, upon eddie telling him it’s okay to let go, and he fills you up with his cum. when he pulls out, eddie stops jerking off. he opens your legs wide, moaning at the sight that awaits him.

“look at that,” he marvels, dragging his fingers through your sensitive cunt and gathering some of steve’s cum on his fingers. “he really filled you up good, didn’t he?”

“yep,” steve says proudly. “now, i suppose you want your turn?”

“fuck yes I do,” eddie says, getting on top of you as you pull him down for a kiss. he returns it, then pulls back. “when i’m finished, you can help me clean her up.”

“you mean shower together?” steve asks. “how will we all fit—“

“no,” eddie says, pushing inside of you after you nod. “I mean, you’re going to eat her out with me.”

———

mini taglist: @littledemondani @andvys @wroteclassicaly @eddieschains @succubusmunson @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @reidsbtch @taintedcigs @sunkillerdreamer @trashmouth-richie @eiightysixbaby

[roosterforme]

Is It Working For You? Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Just in case you need to start at the beginning or visit an earlier chapter, check out my Masterlist!

Summary: Just a day at the beach. Bradley finally gets some of the answers he wants, and maybe a little more.

Warnings: angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter, getting more into 18+

Length: 5000 words, yes 5000 words JUST FOR YOU!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

"What does dress for fun even mean?" you asked Maria through your open door as you tore into your closet the next morning.

"I guess a bathing suit? It's a beach day, make it sexy," she yelled back. You immediately thought of what Rooster might be wearing. Or not wearing. He'd definitely be shirtless at some point, and if you knew anything from the times you'd briefly touched him, the man was ripped. 

"Shit," you whispered as you pulled out your bathing suits. Your body was not the specimen of pure perfection that Bradley's was, but at least it seemed to get the job done. "Purple one piece or black two piece?" you asked Maria.

"Hmmm, black two piece!"

You finished getting ready and inspected yourself in the mirror. It was no string bikini, but you were definitely showing a lot of skin. And your intentionally messy ponytail would be shocking for a work day, but it seemed fine for a day at the beach. You threw on a pair of ripped jean shorts and an oversized tee shirt and headed to your car with your backpack, "I'll meet you there, slowpoke." Maria just gave you the finger in response.

The parking lot above the seaside cliffs beach was narrow, and you snagged one of the last open spots, right next to Bradley's Bronco. Your heart danced in your chest, excited and nervous to see him. You had been waxing poetic about how much you liked him while you were at the Hard Deck, but he hadn't really given you much of a response. Of course, you'd had an awful lot to drink, and hopefully he was just being gentlemanly. But would he be happy to see you today? You also really needed to talk to him about how you felt.

You realized you were going to have to climb down a lot of rocks to get to the beach below, and you wished you had worn something better than your boat shoes. Very gingerly, you took your time safely navigating the boulders all the way down toward the sand. But you slipped and nearly landed on your ass as soon as you saw Bradley. Phoenix had said all of the guys got attention from the locals, and you agreed, they were a good looking bunch. But Bradley was just ridiculously hot. He turned so his back was to you, and he was talking with Coyote and Bob. Just as you hopped off the last of the rocks onto the sand, Bradley reached behind his neck and yanked off his US Navy tee shirt, tossing it to the sand. 

Your lust ridden body was moving at a snail's pace. You didn't know where to go. Thirty feet ahead of you stood the sexiest man you'd ever seen, and you were only looking at his back for fuck's sake. Bob waved to you, and Bradley turned your way to see who was there. 

"Y/N," he called with a smile, seemingly happy to see you. 

His cut off denim shorts rode below his belly button, and he had perfect six pack abs. You could just barely see the waistband of his underwear, and you wanted to run your fingers along it. His body was literally a 6'1" fantasy. 

He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his sunglasses. As he took a step in your direction, you felt your thighs clench together, and you almost moaned out loud. It was going to be a long day. 

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

So you had decided to come to the beach. Bradley knew Maverick had invited a lot of the support staff for the day as well, but so far Hondo was the only one who had shown up. But now you were here, looking beyond adorable. God, he wanted to get you alone and make you explain to him exactly where he stood with you. 

"Y/N! I saved you a spot!" Phoenix called from behind Bradley. And you took off in her direction, just giving Bradley a nervous smile on your way past. He turned and watched you spread your large beach towel out near Phoenix and Halo in what he heard you all referring to as 'the girls' corner '.

Well that just wouldn't do. He gave you a couple minutes to settle in as he walked down to the water to rinse off his arms and cool down a bit. But, then he went and crashed that party. 

"Forgot my towel. Yours looks big enough to share," he announced before plopping down on your towel and lounging back on his elbows.

"Excuse you, this is the girls' corner. Get out," Phoenix told him, pointing toward the area where some of the guys were lounging about. 

"No, I like it over here," he replied as he looked up at you. 

You sighed dramatically and took your sunblock and water bottle out of your bag. "I guess you can stay, but we will be talking about you boys and all manner of other girly things."

"That's cool. I'm very in touch with my feminine side. And I also have a lot of opinions on these guys." 

Halo and Phoenix laughed, but Bradley's breath caught in his throat as you unbuttoned your shorts and shimmied them down your legs. After you neatly folded them and tucked them away, you brought your hands up along your hips and under your shirt. As you pulled it up and over your head, he bit back a groan, completely hypnotized by the expanse of your pristine skin and your cleavage. 

He'd probably made a bad decision by hijacking half of your towel, but it was too late. He was already here, and now you were applying sunblock to your legs. God, those fucking legs. He was dying to touch your skin. He watched you glance between Phoenix and him a few times before holding out the bottle in his direction. 

"Will you do my back?"

Bradley was more than willing to do so, so much to your back... your whole body, really, if he was allowed to. He quickly got himself into a seated position and patted the spot in front of him on the towel. After a second of hesitation, you carefully sat cross legged a few inches in front of him. 

The first swipe of lotion across your shoulder had you leaning back a bit, and Bradley used his big hands to gently rub it into your soft skin. As his fingers dipped underneath your bathing suit strap, he could feel you exhale sharply. He took his time, going over every inch of your back two times with his hands. He let his fingertips rub into your lower back just above your suit bottoms. As he brought his hands up to the back of your neck, he noticed you had stopped conversing with Halo and Phoenix and seemed to be enjoying this little backrub as much as he was. You hadn't pulled away from him. In fact you had been inching closer. He caressed the back of your neck softly, touching the wisps of your hair that had come loose from your ponytail. 

If any of the guys were watching, Bradley would surely be in for a ribbing about this later. And Hangman would try to make his life a living hell if he saw any of this. But you were melting into his touch, so it was worth it. Phoenix had a shit-eating grin on her face, but surely she wouldn't make fun of him too much, since she already knew what a mess Bradley was over you. 

"All done," he whispered to you as he let his fingers drift away from your skin. 

Your simple response of, "Mm, thank you, Bradley," went right to his cock. He was good and fucked at this point, so he just let himself collapse onto his back on your towel. He closed his eyes and listened in on the promised girl talk and the sounds of the ocean. Apparently Phoenix and Halo both used to have a crush on Coyote. That could be good blackmail information for later. Then you told the girls a funny story about a horrible date you went on a few years ago, and your laugh washed over him like the warm sunshine. 

It was still pretty early, and some of the aviators and others were still slowly arriving at the beach. At one point he heard Maverick announce that he had a cooler of drinks and had ordered sandwiches for everyone for lunch. He knew this was supposed to be a team building day, so he was going to try to push aside his feelings about Maverick and make the best of it. 

And it didn't hurt that you broke away from the girl talk to lay down next to him. When Bradley turned his head toward you and opened his eyes, he could tell you were already looking at him through your sunglasses. You both sized each other up for a few minutes, Bradley slowly memorizing the shape of your lips and the curve of your cheeks. Finally he reached out his index finger and tapped your hand. "Wanna talk?" he asked quietly.

"Not really, but yeah, I guess we should. I'm sorry, Bradley. I was pretty out of line on Saturday night. I... shouldn't have butted in on you when you were talking to your two new... friends."

He swallowed hard. "So you want to be just friends with me then?"

"No, that's not what I said. Oh, this is so embarrassing," you groaned and propped your head up on one elbow so you were looking right at him. It took a lot of willpower for Bradley to pry his eyes away from your chest and focus on what you were saying. "I just can't believe I did that. I-I came at you like you were mine or something, and I'm sorry. I think it was the tequila talking, but I know that's not an excuse."

"Sweetheart, I wasn't interested in those girls. I'm interested in you. And you said you liked me. You said you were attracted to me. Was that the tequila talking?" Bradley was ready to beg you for answers if needed.

Sweetheart again. You couldn't handle it. You puffed out a little laugh and a blush crept along your neck and cheeks, now refusing to meet his eyes. "No, that was the sober truth. Drunk truth, too, I guess. But I do like you, and I am attracted to you."

"Then why did you turn me down when I asked you out?" he asked, his heart pounding in his ears.

"I didn't turn you down, I told you not to ask me out at all."

"Is there really a difference?"

"No, I guess not. But I know how you guys are. And I know how I am. And I'm scared ," you whispered.

Bradley liked you so much, he couldn't imagine a world where he would do anything to you that would scare you or hurt you. He would take you out wherever you wanted to go. He would hold you against him and kiss your neck. He would listen to every single thing you had to say. He would appreciate you. He would make love to you exactly how you wanted him to. "Why are you scared? And what can I do to show you that you don't have to be scared of me?"

You raised an eyebrow at him before taking a deep breath. "When I got serious with my last boyfriend, he changed his mind part way through. And then recently when I tried to keep a casual friends with benefits thing going, the guy changed his mind and suddenly wanted to be serious with me. I'm tired of trusting the guys I shouldn't, and having others demand of me what I don't want to give them. And don't even get me started on how dating another officer could impact my career with the Navy."

That made a lot of sense to Bradley. And maybe he wasn't the only one with some issues here. "And does that leave any room at all for me?"

Your only response was your fingers tangling with his on the towel.

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

Your friends finally showed up hours after you had. Now you were sitting on the rocks with Cam and Maria, eating sandwiches and drinking lemonade. 

"Rooster keeps looking at you," Cam noted as he worked on his third sandwich. 

"She keeps looking at him too," Maria added.

They weren't wrong. Bradley was playing volleyball with some of the others, and you were pretty sure he had missed a few shots, because he'd been smiling at you. All you had done was gently held hands with him while you relaxed in the sun, but you'd felt a little bit lighter and fuzzy around the edges since then. 

"No comment," you said as you hopped up from the rocks and started walking toward the water.

"Seriously?! I'm practically employed as your life coach and you won't tell me what's up?" Maria called as she and Cam followed you to the water.

Then all of the guys plus Halo and Phoenix made their way loudly toward the water's edge as well, and Hangman had a football in each hand. Hondo was sorting everyone into two teams. His hand connected with your shoulder as he said, "Blue Team".  

"Huh? What's happening here?" you asked Halo as she was sorted onto the Red Team.

"It's dog-fight football. Offense and defense at the same time. You'll love it."

"How is it offense and defense at the same time?" you asked, frantically trying to find your teammates. 

"It makes sense once you start the game. I'll help you out," said Coyote, who had somehow been selected to be captain and quarterback of your Blue Team.

"Listen up!" yelled Hondo. "I'll keep score. Don't make me call penalties, because it will piss me off. Absolutely no tackling into the sand. And... everyone on the losing team does fifty pushups!" 

Your eyes bugged out, unsure if you'd done that many pushups in the last six months.You had a desk job for crying out loud, and basic training had been a decade ago.

"Maybe I'll just sit this one out," you muttered and tried to sneak away. But Bradley appeared in front of you, shaking his head. "At least let me put my shorts and shirt on over my bathing suit before we start," you pleaded, thinking if you could just get back to your towel, everyone would forget about you.

Bradley took you by the elbow and pulled you back into place, lined up next to your teammates Coyote and Bob. "You have to play, or it will be an uneven number. And I promise, there's nothing to be afraid of," he said, crossing his heart with his index finger. Then he lined up directly across from you with the Red Team and crouched down, hand planted in the wet sand, biceps bulging. You mimed his actions, causing him to burst into laughter. "Now that's intimidating. I'm a little scared, actually."

"Oh, shove it, Rooster!"

"She's already trash talking!" exclaimed Bob. "Kick his butt, Lieutenant Y/L/N!!"

Hondo blew his whistle, and everyone took off running in every direction. You saw Maria pulling Cam through the water, and Phoenix had somehow already scored a touchdown before you even moved. But there was so much chaos, you managed to distract Hangman by calling his name, and you got him to pass to you, even though you weren't on his team.

"Oh no," you gasped when you caught the ball. Then you were off, ducking and running as Payback, the intended receiver, was headed right toward you. Maverick provided some cover, and you scored for your team. 

Halo was right, you were loving this.

"Damn it, Bradshaw! She's fast! Cover her better!" Payback yelled as you jumped up and down with the ball.

"Yeah, I've got her," Bradley replied as you and he lined up across from each other once again. You stuck your tongue out at him in response to his smirk. "She's all mine." 

Now Bradley was on offense, and you had to figure out how to keep the football out of his hands.

"Shit," you gasped as he caught a beautiful pass from Hangman. Unsure of how to stop him from scoring, you jumped directly into his arms. Maybe you could get him to drop the ball?

Nope, not a chance. Bradley scooped you up one handed and hauled you along with him and the football. He adjusted his forearm under your butt, and his massive hand wrapped around your thigh, holding you against his abs. You grabbed his shoulders as he picked up speed and dodged Bob. You tried not to get turned on as his fingers gripped your leg harder. And you tried so hard to keep your hands still, but you couldn't deny yourself the feel of his shoulders then collarbone and then neck beneath your palms.

"Nice try, but that was never gonna work," Bradley whispered against your left ear. That raspy voice left you speechless as he set you gently down in the sand. The loss of contact with his warm body almost made you whine for him to pick you up again.  

Lining up across from Bradley over and over again was exhausting. Sure, the game was tiring you out, but trying to stay calm while presented with his body was mentally taxing. It was as much a form of foreplay as your banter had been. If you moved to the right, he followed you. If he tried to sneak around behind Halo, you were there. Offense or defense, it didn't matter; your hands were all over each other. Sand and water splashed and sprayed up everywhere, adding texture to his glistening, sweaty body.

Oh, how you wanted more.

When Hondo blew the whistle for the two minute warning, you were on defense. Bradley crouched down, planted his hand and slowly shook his head at you. "Come on, Y/N. Show me what you got."

The pass came right toward you both. You jumped and tried to catch it, but he was too tall. He paused and tried to gauge what you were going to do, so you went with your one and only move. You jumped directly into his arms again, wrapping your legs around his waist, and his hand came up to your thigh again. This time you tried to knock the ball out of his hands, but he just laughed and held it high above his head. You felt your chest smashing into his as you scrambled to reach for the ball. Your nipples were so hard, and you knew he could feel them. He ran for the touchdown and tossed the ball back over his shoulder.

"Come on, Baby Girl. I thought we already established that isn't gonna work," he rasped against your neck as his other hand came up to your waist with a squeeze. 

Baby Girl. Fuck, you were on the verge of combustion. His mustache was tickling your neck as he chuckled, and his grip on your body was unrelenting.

You faintly heard the Red Team cheering as they had tallied more points when he scored, but he kept his attention on you.

"You keep doing this, and a guy might think he has a chance with you."

You couldn't respond, you were too turned on. If you opened your mouth, you would definitely kiss him. If you moved your hands from his shoulders, they would end up in his messy, sandy hair. Bradley just slowly lowered your aching body back to the ground, and when your feet hit the water, he winked and told you, "I think it's time for your push-ups."

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

Bradley watched you struggle through your push-ups, but you never gave up. He'd come to appreciate that about you; you were smart, resourceful and determined.

And honestly, he was thankful to have a moment to cool down. Your whole body had been wrapped around him, twice. It was too much. He had been on the verge of kissing your lips and dragging your body against the front of his shorts, where he really needed you.

"Good game, Bradshaw," you told him when you were finally finished with push-ups. You were looking at him like you wanted to jump into his arms again. You shouldn't be looking at him like that, not in front of everyone.

"I really had a lot of fun, Y/N," he replied, hoping nobody else could hear how horny he sounded. 

He watched you swallow hard and then turn back toward your towel.

"God damnit," Bradley muttered as he took off in the other direction. He needed to get away from you, or soon everyone else on that beach was going to know without a doubt that he had it bad for you. They probably already did. Anyone with eyes could see the way he reacted to you every single time you were around him. He grabbed a drink out of the cooler and downed the whole thing.

"Well, that was hot," Phoenix crooned behind him. "Jeez, Rooster, you could at least take her back home before you maul her apart."

"Fuck, everyone knows now?" he asked, his voice pleading.

Phoenix just shook her head in a maybe motion. "I don't think so. I can just tell with you how big of a deal this is. The others probably just think you turned your flirt meter way up for the day."

This did not help calm his nerves at all.

"But it's going to be okay. I've got your back," she said with a saucy wink that did not bode well with him.

Bradley took a walk along the water alone, stopping to wash some of the sand from his body and hair. The sun was starting to dip lower in the afternoon heat, and there had been talk about everyone meeting up to get burgers and then going to the Hard Deck for drinks. It was nice to see everyone getting along today. Maverick was even going to buy the first round. Apparently nothing got aviators more excited than free drinks. 

He turned to see some of the group had already started the climb back up to the parking lot, but you hadn't left yet. You were taking your own solo walk along the far side of the cove, so he took his time before gathering his things together. 

"Bye. See you at the Burger Shack," Phoenix said as she rushed past Bradley, arms filled with stuff as she headed for the boulders. 

"You need help with all of that?"

"I'm doing you a favor," she called back. "You can't help me do you a favor, that's not how it works!" 

There were officially zero women in Bradley's life that made any sense or made things easier for him. 

And now it was just you and him left on the beach as the sun dipped lower. He got his shirt and shoes back on and tucked his keys and phone into his pockets as you slowly traipsed back from the water's edge. 

"Wanna walk up with me?" he asked as you picked up your towel. 

"Where's all my stuff?" you asked, looking around frantically. "I thought my bag was under my towel. My teal backpack had everything in it. My phone and keys and everything."

Bradley glanced around at nothing but empty sand. "I'll bet someone grabbed it by accident. Here, call your phone." He unlocked his and handed it to you as he realized who the culprit most certainly was. 

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

Your phone rang and rang and rang. After the third try, you realized nobody was going to answer it. Now you were so mad you'd never taken the time to set up that remote phone tracker app. 

"It's probably with someone at the Burger Shack," Bradley reassured you, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "I can give you a ride there, we can get your bag, and then I'll bring you back to get your car."

You looked up at him and laughed, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head. "Bradley, I don't have anything except my towel. I don't even have shoes, and it will take me all night to climb up the rocks with bare feet." 

Bradley looked down at your feet as you wiggled your painted toes around. "I can carry you."

"I can't ask you to do that!"

"Then don't ask, just get on," he said, gesturing for you to jump on for a piggyback ride.

You hesitated for a moment, but then conceded, draping your towel around your shoulders. The man had already carried you up to your apartment and that hadn't killed him. "Okay..." you mumbled as he crouched down a little and you hopped up onto his back. You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck as he grabbed your thighs with both large hands and hoisted you a little higher.

"You okay back there?" he asked, and you could hear a smile in his voice. Of course you were okay, his biceps were rubbing against your sides.

"As long as you are." But he was already starting up the rocks, taking his time to make sure he had good footing. You held on a little tighter and rested your chin on his left shoulder, anxious to see where he was going to step next. He felt so strong, his back pressed against your front. And he smelled so good, you wanted to bury your nose against his warm skin. The thin layers of fabric between you both were doing nothing to keep the butterflies at bay. "I honestly don't know how you are doing this. I almost fell on my ass walking down here earlier!"

Bradley chuckled. "You might be surprised by the things I would be willing to do for a chance to carry a cute girl around."

You could feel yourself blushing hard as your legs rubbed along the soft cotton tee covering his back as he moved. "Will you let me buy you a burger later?" you asked.

"No."

"How about a beer at the Hard Deck?"

"No."

"Well then, what will you let me do?" you whispered in his ear, almost screaming when he audibly groaned in reply.

"There's only one thing I want."

"Oh really? What's that?" 

"I want you to admit that you can't get enough of me, and that's why you jumped on me twice during football." He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye behind his sunglasses with a grin.

You were quiet for a moment as he continued the journey upwards, finally nearing the top.

"Okay, first of all, how am I supposed to defend against someone roughly twice my size? It should have been Bob playing against you! Second, that was my only move, Bradshaw. Other than flinging myself at you like a flying squirrel and hoping for the best, there was no better option. And third...."

"Yes, go on..." he teased as you two reached the top of the hill, the beach now far below you. You were coming up quickly to the Bronco as Bradley carried you in that direction. 

"Well, third, yeah... you know. Come on, you know you look good, Rooster." 

"Not as good as you, Sweetheart," he rasped as he let go of your leg with his right hand and quickly unlocked the passenger door. He pulled it open and gently bent to set you down on the passenger seat. You slid into place and tossed your towel to the floor as he turned to face you. "Not as good as you."

You needed to feel him against you again. It was the only pressing thing now, your missing backpack totally forgotten. Bradley leaned toward you and wrapped the seat belt around your bare torso, his fingers gently grazing your left side as he clicked it into place. Before he could remove his hand, you grabbed it with your left one. You reached up with your right hand, removed his sunglasses and tossed them onto the driver's seat, revealing a look of longing in his eyes. Then you let your fingertips trail along the scars on his cheek. His eyes closed for a few beats as you pushed your fingers up over his ear and into his hair. His eyes opened again, pleading with you as you played with his messy hair, your fingers moving to the back of his neck. 

You pulled him closer and closer until you pressed your lips against his. You should have been embarrassed by the broken sigh that escaped you, but his hands were both immediately on your waist, and you were gone. He drew little circles on your skin with his thumbs as he explored your lips gently with his mouth, his mustache tickling your upper lip in the most delicious way.

You kissed and nibbled on his lips, now using both hands to pull him in tighter to you. Your nose bumped his as you changed positions slightly, leaning up to feel the pressure of your chest against his. With a moan, he used his mouth to part your lips, and you could feel the tip of his tongue against yours. 

He tasted so good and so warm. Your fingers dipped into the collar of his shirt as you teased and tasted each other over and over. When his lips danced over your chin and along your jaw, you really dug your hands into his hair. You had to squeeze your legs together to stop from crying out as his mouth connected with your neck, nipping just below your ear. 

"Baby Girl," he whispered and you almost lost yourself completely. Then his phone rang loudly causing you to jump back an inch. 

You looked at each other, panting slightly as he checked who was calling.

He cleared his throat a few times before saying, "I think someone is calling back from your phone."

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

I can't thank you enough for reading along!

Part 6

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[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 1, Wave 1, Poll 13

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave here.

Jedidiah A.A. Martin-Camp Here and There

Qualifications:

refuses to label his sexuality but BOY does he like men (looking at Mr Sargent for this one :3) also has ADHD! but its not known how attention deficient or hyperactive he is

also is a stupid cringefail loser who I want to push down a slide that's been fermenting in the sun all day during summer <3!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Propaganda:

Raised in a religious yet wealthy household, Jedidiah Abraham Adonias Martin--also known as "Jed", "Jeddie", "The archivist", "The clockmaker", or various misspellings and mispronunciations of his name--refuses to label his sexuality, but BOY does he like men (looking at Mr Sargent for this one), and also has ADHD! He may have dropped out of medical school and is "too repressed to write poetry", but he's still one of the camp nurses, alongside Sydney October Sargent! After talking to a bunch of birds, we found out that Jedididididiah will die on a Thursday (not a spoiler as of writing this). It has also been confirmed that he has a photo of Sydney on his desk (aww) and he plays D&D. Oh, and he's terrified of all things shelled. Would you like a snail as you think about voting for this loser? (affectionate)

Submitted by @spud-the-stupid

Ballister Boldheart-Nimona (Film)

Qualifications:

He has a boyfriend (and then they have a sort-of-breakup but they're back together by the end) and he has a prosthetic arm.

He’s gay and missing an arm.

He’s explicitly gay, in love with a man. He loses his arm then builds himself a prosthetic while on the run like a badass.

His boyfriend cut his arm off :( he uses a prosthetic now. His arm got chopped off after being falsely accused of killing the queen, he spends the rest of the movie with a prosthetic metal arm. His arm was also chopped off by his lover, Ambrosius Goldenloin, during said false assassination.

Canonically has a boyfriend and built his own prosthetic

Qualifies by both being canonically disabled (amputee) + canonically gay

Propaganda:

Please plz plz vote for him

His boyfriend cut off his arm. He made himself a prosthetic. He used his arm to block someone’s sword. He kissed his boyfriend. He has sad wet cat eyes, which isn’t relevant but still. He has them.

He’s so GOOD even though he’s having like the worst day ever (specifically talking about movie but webcomic also applies). He has the biggest wettest eyes how can you not root for him????

People love him! He kinda looks like a sad, poor little cat. A real soggy wet kitten man.

Let's see. He and Ambrosius are lovers, or at least boyfriends, from the moment they're introduced. Ballister gets his arm chopped off by Ambrosius during the false assassination. Ballister spends the rest of the movie trying to convince Ambrosius and the kingdom of his innocence, with a metal arm replacing his missing one. It originated the phrase "Arm Chopping is not a love language!" Did I mention he's a main character too?

Is a science nerd, built his own prosthetic arm with his non-dominant hand, accidentally adopted a trans chaos demon of a 1000yo being

A knight, Nimona's best friend and father figure of sorts, but the plot mostly revolves around him- Ballister is framed for murder and has to hide while trying to figure out who framed him and how to prove he's innocent. Nimona becomes his sidekick (he didn't want one, she just showed up at his place one day like a very chaotic stray cat) and together they form a great duo against the corrupt government. This is complicated by Ballister's ex Ambrosius, who accidentally cut off Ballister's arm and is a bit brainwashed by government propaganda. Oops. You should watch Nimona it's great 💞🦈

Submitted by @foulfirerebel (fifth person) and at least 7 others.

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 8: Not a Monster

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5824

Summary: Miguel is lost in the multiverse and you're the only one that can possibly find him... but how? And what does it mean for your relationship?

Warnings: canon-typical violence, Slight Dubcon (Miguel is full feral but his advances aren't unwanted), ANGST, man pain, some self loathing, it's time to grow up and talk about our feelings... just a little. A/N: Electro is a silly, silly name and I couldn't take it seriously. You have my full permission to laugh at the fight scene.

Previous. Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 8

Not a Monster

The Tower was practically empty this time of night. Your quick footsteps echo through the massive, vacant building, it was haunting.

You pull at your nanotech suit as you run down the long corridor. You’re still not used to the futuristic material. You had to rush out of your apartment, Lyla claiming there was no time to waste. You left a hastily scribbled note for Gwen and headed to the roof.

 A new wave of panic rushes over you as you enter the dark hallway of Miguel’s lab. It felt wrong being here without him. Lyla hovered with you the entire time. 

Miguel was missing. What did that even mean?

How the hell can you go missing when your energy signature is constantly tracked throughout all of time and space.

Lyla informed you of the situation as you ran. Miguel had gone after an Electro anomaly yesterday afternoon. He’d tracked it for hours through whatever universe it’d fallen into. It could teleport, making him extremely illusive. The last time they had a clear signal on his location he was engaged in combat then… nothing. He’d disappeared off the map for at least 10 seconds, then— he was everywhere. His signal was scattered to thousands of dimensions, each one indecipherable from being the real one. Lyla couldn’t reach him anymore. If she scanned them all at once she would crash completely, taking hours to reboot. She could only go through a few dozen at a time and her efforts were proving to be fruitless. Valuable time was wasted while she scanned through the multiverse at a snail's pace, so she called you in to help. You still had no idea why she called you of all people.

If Lyla, the all-knowing omnipotent AI, couldn’t find him, how the hell could you?

You walk to the center of Miguel’s laboratory, expecting to see dozens of spiders working tirelessly in front of computers to find him. Instead, you’re met with more silence.

“Lyla, where is everyone?” you ask, completely dumbfounded.

“What do you mean?” She glitches in front of you.

“Miguel’s missing. Don’t we have a team, like… working on this?”

“Not protocol,” she shakes her head, “At least, not for something like this anyway. We don’t want to cause panic. If we can solve this quietly, we will. In such a massive malfunction case like this, the lead duty falls to the architect.”

You furrow your brow, “Who the fuck is the architect?”

“That would be me,” A voice from overhead echoes across the cavernous room. Miguel’s desk platform begins to lower down. On top of it stands a man you’d never seen before. He was tall, tan-skinned, with messy dark hair and a lean build. He wore a set of goggles atop his head and loose-fitting clothes with an obnoxious striped scarf to top it off. You’ll never get 2099 fashion. No, you’d never met him before, but you recognized someone else in his features. That strong jaw, kind eyes, and pouty lips. This was undoubtedly Miguel’s brother, “Gabriel O’Hara. Gabe.” 

You jump up to the platform and shake his hand, offering your name as well. “Why am I here, Gabe?”

He lazily raises his eyebrows at you as if annoyed by the question, “You can track Miguel through the multiverse.”

You have to catch yourself from falling on your ass. “Excuse me?” 

“I told you to ease her into it!” Lyla blips in front of Gabe, several pixels flaring around her in anger. 

“We don’t have time to ease into it. We barely have time for a crash course ,” Gabe waves her off and walks to a computer. With the click of a button, a massive projection takes over the room. Intricate weaving webs of red connecting together. Within the webs, hundreds of white dots are scattered. “One of these…” Gabe points to a white dot, “...is Miguel. The real Miguel. The rest are false readings. I don’t know what that thing did to his watch and we have no way of knowing which one is the real one. It’s like his signature was cloned and thrown around. Lyla said we wanna try do this quietly before we jump to rally the calvary, so that’s why you're here. Your connection with him can make you do that. You can track him.”

Your heart instantly sinks. He was talking a mile a minute to the point you barely understood him, but that last sentence rings in your head like a gong. He knew.

“I told him,” Lyla explains as she materializes in front of you. You wonder briefly if she can read minds, but your dread must have been painted all over your face. “It’s our last chance and I couldn’t just keep important information like this. He’s the only one that knows my system, he would have found out eventually. You could be our only hope if—.”

“I– I don’t understand—” You finally stammer out.

“Look, I don’t know how your bond thing works either but Lyla seems to think it’s the best chance we have. So, whatever you did to get him to...” Gabe’s rambling comes to a slow halt. He must have finally understood what you’re confused, blank stare was about. He sighs into his hand, “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?!” You blurt.

“That’s why we should have eased her into it!’ Lyla palms her non-existent face.

“Fucking Migs. Tengo que hacer todo por aquí ,” Gabe mumbles as he turns back the control console. “Here. You might as well hear it from the horse's mouth.”  A screen illuminates in front of you, Miguel in the center frame. It’s a recording, a timestamp and a date marked across the bottom. You recognize the date— That day after the Goblin Queen attack.

“New developments with the spider-sense connection,” He starts, his voice clinical and monotone. “While the sense was previously thought to be only triggered by close contact of various ranges, this is no longer the case. A response seemed to also be triggered by distress from the opposite party. I felt her while she was in her home dimension. This connection appears to be able to… transcend the multiverse itself.” He takes a moment to breathe into his hands. You share the sentiment. Your spider-sense can travel time and space? There’s just no way. You feel your legs buckle, catching yourself on the nearest chair. Miguel looks back up at the camera, “I went to her dimension last night. I just felt a… pull there. When we fought it was—”

Gabe stops the recording and you feel like you take your first breath since you got here.

The way you’d been feeling since this afternoon… you chalked it up to being too emotional over catching the Fisk’s and having nostalgia because of your great partner. Idiot, you should be able to recognize a spider-sense by now. Then again, if Miguel wasn’t there, what reason would you have to think it was?

A spider-sense that could stretch the multiverse? It didn’t sound possible. 

“He’s not in the original dimension he started in, we know that much. We don’t know what was damaged,” Gabe continues, “I know we’re asking a lot but you might be our only option here.”

This was just too much. He says it all like it’s so goddamn easy. It must be an O’Hara trait, you think. 

This was something that was so far beyond just you. The leader of Spider Society, the man with the answers to the multiverse’s fate rests in your hands. You want to scream. You want to fall apart and crawl into the closest dark corner and never come out— But you don’t have that luxury right now.

You’re Spider-Woman. You’d done more reckless things on less information dozens of times. Not necessarily a bragging point, but it helped you feel better at the moment. Miguel was out there somewhere. Amongst these thousands of scrambled dots, one was the real him— struggling and alone. You could feel him fighting.

Save Miguel first, yell at him for putting you in this position later.

Lyla materializes in front of you, a gentle expression on her face, “You can do this.”

So… How do you fucking do this? Your spider-sense was never something you actively thought about. It just happened, usually at the most inconvenient times. Maybe that was just it. You were thinking too much— You had to just let it happen. It’s as good a starting point as any. 

You swivel to the center of the multiverse projection and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 

Gabe speaks, “What’s she—”

“Shut up!” Lyla instantly silences him in a hushed tone.

Several deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. You feel the tension in your limbs melt away as the buzzing in your head becomes clearer— it was your guiding light. You’re not sure how to follow it, but if this thing was truly a part of you then it should come naturally… right? Your gut stirs, knowing somewhere out there your spider double needs you. Know that it may only be you that could save him. How poetic, you think.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, recalling those first feelings of the spider-sense. You’d never felt it before yet you knew exactly what it was. On top of that, you knew exactly what caused it. A completely alien sensation to your body yet you knew exactly what it wanted— You just knew. You weren’t naive about it anymore, you weren’t scared of it. You wanted to know its full potential. It was showing you tonight.

It starts like a faint pulse in your ears. A beacon. You open your eyes, taking in the thousands of twinkling white lights amongst the web of the multiverse. One of them is Miguel… the real Miguel. One calls to you.

You stand, walking amongst the projection. You step to the left, the pulsing fades— Colder. You continue to your right, following the rhythmic pull. You picture Miguel, everything about him. His face, his scent, the deep baritone voice— The pulse grows faster. 

You recall the way he squeezes your hips when he makes love to you. His touch was always rough but somehow still caring and loving. Ironic how that encapsulates him as a person. A sheep in wolf’s clothing. 

You come to a stop, one of the single blips seemingly shining brighter than the rest. Your sense jumps as you reach out for it. This had to be it. You tap the small projection, several screens expand with various information about the mystery universe. 

Earth 774-b. A decimated world ravaged by wars long past. Almost no human population. What remained there was rubble, slowly being grown over with moss. 

“This it?” Gabe steps to your side, looking over the schematics. 

“It’s… what I felt.” You answer. 

“Well, we wouldn’t wanna ignore a gut feeling,” He grumbles, jumping off the platform. He motions for you to follow— you do. Several small robots crawl to his aid, carrying various pieces of equipment. He comes to a work desk, rummaging several things out of the drawers, “Your watch, please.” He demands more than asks.

You extend your wrist and he immediately begins tinkering with the interdimensional device. He welds on a small bolt to the side, “This should protect it from any direct electromagnetic attacks. Wouldn’t want a repeat and have 2 missing spider’s on our hands.” He turns to one of the robots, grabbing a backpack it dutifully brought him. He reaches inside, grabbing a second watch, “This is for Miguel when you find him. I suspect his current watch is fried,” He drops it back in and pulls out another device. You recognize it as one of the force field traps, “This is for Electro when you find him. It’s specially made for someone of his abilities. You have 3 of them. Contain him first if you find him.” He hands you the backpack, “There are medical supplies and food and water rations. You have 3 hours before we send in backup. Stay in contact.”

And with that, he hands you the pack and walks back to the monitors. You feel like a kid thrown into the deep end of the pool. You don’t have time to think, you barely have time to breathe. After all your years of superheroing, you think you’d be more used to being treated like a soldier. In a lot of ways, you were still just a kid that got bit by a spider. 

You put in the coordinates to Universe 774-b. Lyla appears at your shoulder as the portal bursts to life in front of you. 

“If anyone can do this, it’s you.” She assures you. She probably recognized the fear in your eyes. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You nod, your mask materializing over your face. You were Spider-Woman. This was just another Tuesday night for you—no big deal. You can do this. 

______________

This universe had a distinctive scent you’d never smelled before. Like oil poured over fresh-cut grass. An entire planet that humans hadn’t touched for decades, but their crumbling cities and rusting machines still sat idle. Nature had already overtaken most of what remained in this dystopian New York— You hated it. It could very well be a bleak image of your home city. The thought makes you shutter and you push it to the back of your mind. 

It was mid-afternoon. You’d been in the apocalyptic world for nearly an hour now, Lyla leading you to the largest energy signature in the vicinity— Smack dab in the middle of what used to be Time Square. With no technology on the planet, it wasn’t hard to find. Your spider-sense has been a quiet hum the entire time here, surprisingly. You thought it would jump and sing as soon as you entered this dimension but so far it remained tame. 

It was starting to feel like a complete gamble on Miguel even being here.

What if your intuition was completely wrong? In the rush, you hadn’t even considered this could be all for nothing. A multiverse spider-sense tracker? Ridiculous. Miguel could have been wrong before. You could have just convinced yourself there was something special about this universe, surrounded by people begging you for an answer. 

This could all be for nothing and Miguel could still be lost… or worse. 

You push the intrusive thoughts down, not wanting to needlessly distract yourself from the task at hand. You had 2 more hours here and you were going to use them regardless. You were closing in on the energy signature. 

You hear it before you see it. Distant electric crackling followed by crumbling bricks. Hope overtakes your growing anxieties. You swing up to the surrounding rooftops and peer down into the crumbling historic square. There in the open center of the towering buildings stood Electro, alone and fuming.

“ Come out! Come out!” He screamed, blasting an electric charge into the withering billboard for Phantom of the Opera. By the looks of the surrounding freshly charred buildings, he’d been at it for a while. “ Come out and fight like a man! ”  

He was talking to Miguel. Taunting him… but where was he? Hiding or injured, most likely. You’ll find out soon enough. Even amidst the several revelations, relief washes over you. Miguel was here— somewhere.

You hadn’t seen an Electro like this before. Whereas most wore a green and yellow suit with an obnoxious lightning-decorated cowl, this man didn’t seem to even be completely human anymore. He still wore a skin-tight suit, but it was black. His skin glowed a translucent blue. You could see the energy flowing through him. It surged through his entire being, like blood through veins. He didn’t just have power over electricity— He was electricity. This was a being of pure energy. 

That would have been nice to know ahead of time. 

He abruptly halts his rampage, cocking his head to the side. Before you can react, a bolt shoots directly at you. It hits the bricks at your feet, sending you tumbling into the square. You catch yourself mid-fall and swing to the opposite end of the street. So much for the element of surprise. 

You find a perch on a crumbling billboard a few stories above the square. Electro faces you, searing in anger.

“ You’re not him! ” His electronic voice crackles, “ Where is he?! ”

“Look, dude, I was hoping you could tell me.” The attempted joke is immediately met with another rage-fueled blast of energy. You’re able to dodge this time, swinging down another level. You expect another attack but instead, you see the villain fall to his knees, wheezing and shaking. He was exhausted, who knows how long he’d been at this stupid charade. 

A realization hits you. He feeds off energy. It sustains him as well as his powers. There wasn’t anything for him to feed off of in this dead world. He was weaker— Significantly weaker. If there was a time to capture him, it was now. Gabe told you to contain him first before you hunted for Miguel.

You quickly grab one of the traps out of your bag. Not giving him a single second to regain himself, you pounce. You can end this now and find Miguel. Easy as pie. 

But of course, it’s never that easy, is it?

You’re almost on him when he vanishes, and you stumble to the now empty ground— Teleportation. Right. He reappears behind you in an instant. He doesn’t hesitate to blast you again at point-blank range.

An electric field engulfs you, surging searing hot pain through every fiber of your being. You drop the trap amidst the chaos. You twist and scream in the field, unable to control your body’s movements. It takes hold of you as you're lifted from the ground by nothing but pure energy. 

“ Your suit’s like his,” Electro laughs, “ Makes for a great conductor. Now let’s see that watch. ”

He knew about the multiverse watches too— Great. 

You could feel the nanotech waving in and out of existence amongst the static. You desperately reach for the trap, trying to shoot a web or just bring it to your hand by sheer willpower. No such luck.

Even amongst the blinding pain, you felt something. The very thing you’d been praying for since you got here— A buzzing in the back of your head.

It happens in a flash. A rusted car is thrown towards you both, missing you by inches but dispersing Electro’s being into thin air. You drop to your hands and knees, taking in the biggest breath of your life. The remaining energy twitches through you as you stand back on your shaky feet. Your nanotech suit tames down back to its original design. 

You look in the direction the car was thrown from— and there he is. Crouched on all fours with a mask drawn over his face. 

“Miguel!” You shout, immediately running towards him.

“S-stay back!” He growls, a deep raspiness to his voice. You screech to a halt instantly. He didn’t sound normal. 

“ Spider-Man! ” Electro materializes back above the square, arms outstretched. He couldn’t have much juice left. He was putting all he had left into this fight. “ And a Spider-Woman, my lucky day. I’ll kill you both and rip those dimensional travel devices off your cold dead bodies. ”

Miguel pounces immediately, swinging up to the floating menace. So much for making a plan. If Miguel had been stuck in this hellscape for nearly a day, you’re sure he was frustrated. He was lashing out without thinking— and it could be the perfect distraction. 

They dance around each other in midair. Miguel effortlessly dodging lightning bolts and Electro weaving between webs. Their efforts were fueled by rage and exhaustion. You take the opportunity to scale the buildings rather than join in the fight. 

Webs and brute force meant nothing if he could disappear at will. You had to be smarter than that.  He just had to get close and you’d have him. Proximity was all you needed.

You perch yourself 10 stories up, at least half a block from the fight. You pull out your second trap. With how fast they were moving, they’d swing by you any second. As if on queue, you see Miguel’s head snap in your direction. His gaze shoots through you like a spear. You hold up the electric trap and wave your arm in a beckoning motion, you think he gets the message. He swings the fight around, moving directly for you. 

Keeping Electro’s focus on him, they swing in front of you. You have a split second to react. Electro’s back to you, you jump. He’s only a dozen or so feet away from you and at a lower angle. You have the advantage. 

You arm the device mid-air as you lunge closer. Once directly above him, you release it. The trap locks on to its target and begins webbing glowing red beams around Electro. It entangles him, trapping him inside an impenetrable force field. Trapped, he plummets back to the ground. You swing down to follow, flanked closely by Miguel.

He tumbles to a jarring stop inside the makeshift prison cell.

“ What is— ” He stands, touching the glowing red walls. He’s immediately zapped away from the containment field. Enraged, he attempts to blast through it, only to have the electricity immediately returned and ricochet around the containment cell. He continues to rampage despite the repeated results.

“Lyla,” You say into your watch, setting the coordinates for Spider Tower, “Take him in.”

“Aye, aye,” The AI replies, a portal forming directly beneath the red cage. Electro drops out of reality in an instant.

 You turn to Miguel, only to find him several yards away with his back turned to you. His posture isn’t normal, he’s hunched over and twitchy. You can hear him dragging in ragged, growling breaths. He was tired. He’d just been through a traumatic event for all you know. 

“Lyla,” You say into your watch again. “Tell Gabe I’ve found Miguel, but just… give us a minute.”

“Don’t be too long,” She responds. Even though she’s artificial, you think you can hear a sense of relief in her voice. The crisis was averted. Miguel was safe— you think. 

“Mig?” You step towards him, cautiously reaching out.

“I said,” His head flinches to the side, sleek mask dissipating. “ Stay away! ” He slashes at you, baring his teeth and claws. His fangs, you’d never seen them before. His eyes were completely taken over by crimson red. His features were contorted and angry. He crouches down, resting his weight on his hands. He was trembling— Holding something back. 

His power dampeners— oh, you absolute idiot. 

Amongst the chaos, you’d all somehow completely forgotten the thing Miguel desperately needed to stay cognitive. The very thing that keeps a side of him at bay. He hadn’t dosed himself in nearly a full day, and the animal was taking hold. He was agitated. Volatile. Your spider-sense rings through you like a warning— or, something else?

This was not the same Miguel you knew. 

A glitch shakes through his being. His watch was damaged, unable to regulate his unstable atoms in the alien world. He comes out of the glitch raging, clawing at the surrounding rubble. Anything and everything was his target. He throws more cars, he slashes street lamps in half. So, this is what happens when he doesn’t take his dampeners?

“Miguel!” You scream over the chaos. He halts his rampage, staring you down. Those eyes were absolute daggers. You speak calmly “I have a watch for you. Let’s get you home and get you taken care of. It’s over. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Taken care of,” He repeats. His animalistic voice sends chills down your spine. He stalks toward you, you don’t move. Even hunched over, his height still dwarfs you. 

You take out the backup watch and drop your bag to the side. The spider-sense hummed in anticipation. You’re not sure if it’s telling you to run or stand your ground. Regardless, you reach for his arm. Just get the watch on him, and you can go. 

He grabs your wrist so quickly you don’t even register the movement. He pulls you against him. You feel yourself shrink in his grasp, and your spider-sense sings. He brings your wrist up to his face, trailing his nose down your arm with a deep inhale. He stops at your neck— you feel his fangs graze the soft flesh there. It sends a wave of heat straight to your core.

Why weren’t you scared right now?

“ Mi añarita. Me encontraste,” He growls against you, sending all your hair on end, “ ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí?”

He brings you down to your shaking knees, crawling on top of you. His massive limbs cage you in. You could easily scurry out of it— away from him, but you don’t want to. You could feel it building as you had dozens of times before. He could take you right here and you’d revel in it. 

It takes every fiber of your being to push down your building urges. Not here. Not now— He could be hurt and starving for all you know. You had a mission. Get Miguel home, despite what your selfish desires wanted. 

His guard is lowered, distracted by his primal impulse. You were completely on your back while he hovered over you. You take the opportunity to hit the home button on his backup watch, opening a portal directly behind your head. You raise your feet to Miguel’s stomach, kicking him over you into the portal before he can fight back. He needed his meds. You had to get him back now, like it or not.

“Lyla!” You scream into your watch, jumping through the portal as well, “Tell Gabe to get his dampeners ready! He’s on edge and we’re coming in hot.”

You fly through the dimensional wormhole, trailing only feet behind Miguel. He thrashed and spun as he was shot through the fabric of time and space itself. You take advantage of the rolling zero gravity environment and start to web him up, subduing his violent movements. The more he struggled, the worse it got. Simple webs couldn’t hold him for long but they’ll have to do for now. You had to get him back and everything could be taken care of. 

You both fly out of the portal, tumbling over each other on the lab floor. Miguel roars as he struggles against the webbing, several strands snapping in the process. He stands, whipping himself around violently, his arms are nearly free. 

A small neon green dot flashes across your vision. A dart filled with his dampener serum sinks into his neck. He collapses to the ground instantly. You turn to see Gabe holding a tranquilizer gun. 

“Three times the dose with a little bit of sedative,” He places the gun on a nearby table, “Sorry about that, his… condition completely slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, mine too,” You groan, picking yourself up off the floor. You look at Miguel laying there, subdued and face still contorted in anger. You have the urge to wail over the sight. You did this to him. You want to reach out to him, take care of him. He’s in pain and you—

You immediately head for the door, feeling your spider-sense threatening to make your emotions boil over. 

“He’ll be up in a few minutes!” Gabe shouts after you.

“Just need some fresh air,” You call back, picking up your pace. 

___________

You sit on the walkway outside of his room for nearly an hour. You dangle your feet over the cavernous edge, looking down at the vast multi-hundred-story tower. There wasn’t a single spider inside now. Gabe had left about 20 minutes ago, wishing you a good night and thanking you for your help. You tell him the same and that was that. Miguel’s brother, the architect of spider-kind… You wonder what his background role was the rest of the time. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again. 

You don’t know why you haven't gone home yet. You wanted to but… something was keeping you here. You wanted to make sure Miguel was okay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in to see him either. You wanted to… but you wanted to give him time. Hell, you needed to give yourself time too.

You felt another urge from the spider-sense tonight. The need to protect. To soothe and subdue. To save your— You were getting too close to him. Too close to all of this, and it scared you.

 You wonder if Miguel remembers. If he has any semblance of control when the spider side takes over. He seemed to, if only just barely. 

“Hey,” A familiar calming voice pulls you from your thoughts. Miguel stands behind you— The Miguel you knew. The man with kind eyes and rigid posture. The sight of him instantly puts you at ease. “You didn’t come inside.”

“I wanted to but… It felt… It was a lot.”

“Yeah…” He sighs, taking a seat next to you— the understanding is completely mutual, you know that by now. “You saved my life today. I won’t forget it.”

“Don’t mention it,” You look down at your feet like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. 

“I mean it. Thank you," he insists. You give him a faint nod and a smile. You want to ask him about it, about the animal inside him. About the spider-sense and why he didn’t tell you about its full capabilities sooner. About his brother, “I’m sorry.” He says instead.

“About what specifically?” you ask, coming off more irritated than you’d like to. 

“How about everything?” His words cut through you like a knife. You felt his guilt behind them, “Sorry you had to come here, sorry about Gabe, sorry you had to clean up my mess, sorry you… had to see me like that.”

You could hear the regret in his voice. Miguel O’Hara sincerely apologizing, you should get a camera. 

“What happened to start all this?” you ask. 

“It was a routine mission,” he starts, “He showed up in a populated area in a separate dimension. I thought it would be a quick grab. I underestimated him… drastically. You saw him, he could disperse his form at will. He could connect to any technology— Any machine. He got into my watch… to Lyla. I had to cut my connection.” 

Untold horrors could happen if a desperate villain got a hold of Lyla— a hold of the power of the multiverse. It was a scary thought. 

Miguel continues, “He fried my watch’s power by the time we landed. Thought I caught some luck when we landed somewhere he couldn’t recharge.”

“Your signal was copied over a thousand realities,” You inform him. 

“He scattered it looking for a way out, sending us both flying through the multiverse. When I cut off my connection, he was booted out of the system.” He clarified, “Didn’t want him to know where the home base was, anyway. Turned out to be a good thing, I think. Didn’t really consider myself at the time. I just had to keep him out. I would have figured something out eventually. I just had to outlast him.”

“Made a lot of work for me,” You grumble, jokingly. You bring your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees. “Why didn’t you tell me… That we could do this? Sense across the universe.”

He takes in a heavy breath, running his hand through his fluffy hair, “I thought it was a complete fluke. I thought I felt something and it turned out you were in a fight. Or maybe even a coincidence. Or if it was something, at least it only pertained to me. I’m… different from you. I had a shaky hypothesis. I should have tested it more. I’m sorry.”

Two apologies? You really should get that camera. 

“Did you feel me too, tonight? Across the universe?” you ask.

“Not until you were there. My mind wasn’t— I wasn’t—” He looks away, ashamed. You stomp down the urge to reach out and hold him. You don’t want to overstep a boundary. Did you even have those kinds of boundaries with him anymore? “If you ever have to see me like that again, you have my full permission to stop me… By any means necessary.”

“Miguel, it’s—”

“By any means necessary,” he repeats, tension dotting his words.

You could feel his self-loathing in his words. His hatred for this part of him. He was disgusted with himself. What he had done— what you both had almost done. You wanted him so badly in that moment back in the dystopian world, your spider-senses battling each other for it. You felt a little disgusted with yourself too. 

The only other person in the multiverse that could understand was sitting right next to you, and you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything.

You wanted to be his friend. You wanted this man to know he could talk to you completely judgment-free— and you knew you had to be the first one to take the step. You couldn’t keep each other at arm's length while still sharing these deeply intimate and personal things together. 

You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. There had to be a compromise. You had to tell him you cared about his wellbeing— if only a little. You needed to. 

“I know you don’t feel like you can always rely on people, Miguel,” You begin, feeling his gaze drill into you, “I know you think you have to hold it all together yourself. That’s just part of being a spider… being a hero. But if that were true you wouldn’t have built this place. Even with all the help in the known universe you still think you’re the only one you can count on. Think about that.”

You stand, taking a few steps down the walkway. You take a deep breath before continuing “You’re not just a man but not a monster either, Mig. And you’re not alone. Remember that next time you treat yourself like you're expendable.” A portal to your dimension opens. You pause before stepping through, “I would do everything I did tonight again. I’m glad you’re okay, but don’t scare us like that again. Lyla was worried sick at the thought of never seeing you again.”

And so was I. 

His somber expression is the last thing you see before stepping into the multiverse. 

__________

Translations: Tengo que hacer todo por aquí.- I have to do everything around here. Mi añarita. Me encontraste. ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí? -My little spider. You found me. Have you come to take care of me?

And as always, let me know if I'm making a complete fool of myself, Spanish speakers! I appreciate anyone who comes in to help out with it!

__________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf

[herzgeist-writes]

Hii Emi! It's me again and if you're up to i have another request! Obv a Law x yn where yn joined the heart pirates only two months ago and she is pretty shy and always worried to not be helpful to the crew. Law takes pity out of her of how cute she looks but what hits his heart is how kind and gentle this girl is and that makes Law slightly worried because he knows something is different and he cannot let himself fall in love because he needs to avenge Corazon

Pairing: Law x Cute fem!reader | Word count: 1.9k | Warnings: None

Synopsis: Welcome aboard the Polar Tang, (Y/n)! The Heart pirates took you in with open arms without regret to this day. You are one of the kindest and most gentle people the crew ever faced, growing fond of your sweet and humble behaviour. Over time, Law takes notice of your modesty and fights against his own emotions you awaken in him, before they become too much to handle. Is a dark and sinister man such as him actually able to develop romantic feelings? He highly doubts it. Yet so he thought.

A/N: Kurage! Of course I'm up for it! It's Law we're talking about ఌ Avast, another fluffy OneShot, thank you for the request dear! (Sorry it took a bit longer, I was on holiday) Hope you like it!

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

„Hey (Y/n), could you grab me the tool kit from the boilers below? I must‘ve forgotten it down there.“ - „Sure thing Uni!“, as one of the newest crew members of the Heart pirates, you‘re highly determined to be of support wherever you‘re able.

Since two months aboard the Polar Tang, you learned rather quickly how kind and contributory Trafalgar‘s bunch is. Safe to say, you‘ve grown fond of them and vice versa.

They appreciate your zeal, though you do not possess the ability or skill to know the ropes around the submarine, so the mechanics assign you to simple tasks.

Besides sweating in the sub‘s belly, doing mechanical works, kitchen and laundry duty are also a great way to warm up to the general feel of being part of a crew.

After a quite dramatic rescue, where Law saved you from slave drivers, you can‘t rid the sentiment of the Surgeon of Death behaving hostile towards you.

Of course he is known for his aloof and petulant manner, but you start to recognise certain differencies in his conversations between you compared to other members.

If you ever talk to eachother that is, for it being a rare occasion. It honestly is a shame. There is still so much you want to say, so much you want to ask, yet he avoids you as soon as you enter the frame, walking a B-line to his office.

Don't get him wrong though, Law sees you, oh and how he does. The way you talk, how you behave and hold yourself. Not just captivated by your sweet and adorable appearance, it is your whole demeanor, your big heart he had the chance to behold the past two months.

This is bad, beyond grave. There is no way he actually likes yo-

Absolutely not. Everytime he passes by you, these thoughts intrude his very being, it is then where he's ought to better ignore or run from those feelings, before anything unpredictable happens. Or did it happen already?

To you, the question still remains, have you done something wrong? Aren’t you working hard enough? Whatever it is, you struggle to find the reason behind his mysterious attitude. Be that as it may, you make it your goal to reach your Captain with hard work, rather than straight up walking up to him and find a conversation.

And today is one of those days where you can prove it, to earn your superior’s attention. The Polar Tang docked at an abandoned isle floating somewhere among the waters of the Grand Line. To Law’s calculations, there is an estimated poneglyph hiding on this island. Thus the Heart pirates prepare for a day out in the field, exploring the jungles and noting everything suspicious or fascinating regarding the void century’s history.

At the coast, everybody gathers before proceeding into the thicket. The Captain calls out: “Keep your baby snail transponders ready at all times. If you detect anything remarkable, give me a call immediately.” All confirm his command with a booming ‘Aye’ and thrust their fists into the air, to commence the expedition in brimming motivation. Split up in parties, the groups divide and go seperate ways for a more efficient search.

You follow one team and hold out for mystery. The snail in your hands oogles you, it’s eyes slightly uncanny and bizarre. Yet, the resemblece to Law is immaculate. The already mentioned eyes faintly squinted in an exhausted manner, with dark circles underneath, the white fluffy hat and of course the goatee. It’s almost too accurate. Concentrating on the path before you, you take a good look around.

But to your foolhardy day dreaming, you now walk alone. Where are the others? In panic your gaze scans the area, worried you might not even find your way back to the Polar Tang. How long were you in dream land, (Y/n)? Anyway, you are on a quest, therefore you are tremendously firm about your decision to make your Captain proud.

May sound easier than done, for you tread through the dark and sinister parts of the jungle, feeling cold and uneasy as you hear an alarming rustling very near you. So you pick up the pace, close to running through the lush green thicket, almost toppling over your own feet. Anxiety fuels you with energy, motivating you to rush further into the forest’s heart.

The sun’s rays fade the deeper you go and finally you come to a stop, even unable to see your own hand before you. “Shit, where am I?”, you utter lowly to yourself, scared you might have ran a tad bit too far. A sharp and stinging spark in the distance blinds you. Curiosity gets the better of you, now following the only source of light.

Slowly approaching the inexplicable in front of you, the blinding fortunately ceased and you recognise a golden orb with strange embellishment, if you wouldn't know any better it looks close to a map, deeply engraved into the material.

Like a moth to the flame, you hold out your hand to grasp the devious object. However, before you can sling your fingers around it, the ball disappears and gets replaced with: "A rock? What the-" - "Don't just randomly grab a possible relic, (Y/n)-ya . ."

Surprised, you let off a small squeak and immediately turn around to find yourself cowering away from none other than your Captain, who's brows furrow at you in annoyance.

With the orb in hand, he steps even closer to you, condescendence lifting his gaze as he rumbles: "And by the by, you're supposed to be with the others."

"I lost track of them, so I went on my own.", explaining yourself with an ever growing pout, your shoulders droop in ebarrassment. Quick to throw another question, a frown pushes the corners of Law's lips down: "Why did you run further into the jungle so absentmindedly? You should have called me."

In protest, you point out that your mindless flight response wasn't for naught, implying to show Law your capability by finding this golden ball, but he doesn't give in regarding that matter. All he deftly oversees and only tells you off.

Whose fault was it though? Hiding in the bushes, observing helpless and frightened little you, not able to stay quiet? Trafalgar Law sure doesn't fit the role as a ninja, at least not today.

"Listen (Y/n)-ya, a woman like you can't just wander around in unknown territory, practically diving into danger.", he lectures you with a sour tone in his raspy voice.

Shit, is what goes through Law's mind, as he realises what slipped out of him. Aware how to misunderstand his haughty opinion, he attempts to keep it together. It is incredibely difficult for him to stay focused around you. Why? Oh how he wishes he could just rush back to his office.

Something bugs you, why did he describe you as 'a woman like you'? Thoughts spin in your head and you twiddle your thumbs and twirl a strand of your hair in insecurity. Thus you muster up the courage to ask for the Captain to clarify what he means by that bold statement.

How much it takes out of him to keep his poise. Could you stop playing with this poor man's emotions? They're barely existant in the first place and you decide to pull his heart strings like that?

Indifferent as possible, Law blinks, time seemingly slowing down around you, for he takes a felt like eternity to answer. And finally he clears it up, shifting nervously in place: "Isn't it obvious? You are . . fragile, delicate even and new to piracy. Don't take life as a pirate too lightly, that is all I'm trying to say."

In strain, you contain yourself not to snap at your superior, so you out your concern: "Are you saying I'm not capable?" - "That's not what I said. I simply indicated, that you are too much of an amateur and could get seriously hurt, if you lack the vigilance. Other pirates might take advantage of your kindness and . ."

The Captain stops mid sentence, choking on a word that almost escaped his oddly dry lips. You tilt your head in curiosity: "And?"

A sweat drop builds on his temple. It just wouldn't cross his mind, why you are being so troublesome? Shaking his head infuriatingly, he mumbles: "N-Nothing. Let's just go."

Abruptly grabbing your hand, he pulls you along, leading you out of the dark parts of the jungle. Muttering his dissatisfaction and curses in disbelief, he stops, the both of you returned to the stone path.

Though his slender hands seem rough and calloused, you are surprised by the gentle and warm touch of his skin. Even after all those tough battles he fought, all the operations he performed, his digits carefully intertwine with yours, almost scared to crush you.

So he turns around to face you and commands you harshly: "Go back to the sub, just follow back this way and you'll be there in no time." - "Aye, Captain."

Law detects a tinge of shame and disappointment in your expression. How come his heart cannot stop beating out of his chest, as he speaks: "Before you go . . you . . did a good job, finding this artifact, it's a rather important object at that. So, well done."

Did your hearing falter? Your Captain just praised you! Out of joy you flash him a smile, showing him gratitude with a subtle nod and a small hum.

The brim of Law's hat casts a shadow over his face, making it impossible for you to see his blush that is being withheld from you.

After a good minute, you two come to realise, that you are still holding hands. "Umm, Captain? Could you-", you point out with a shy chuckle and Law basically yanks his arm away in a rash move, almost a tad bit too obvious, even to you.

In irk, he shoos you: "Just go already! I have other things I must attend to!" With his jaw tensing by the sight of you playfully rolling your eyes and going about your way, he clicks his tongue and continues the path ahead of him.

One last look over his shoulder, glancing at your delicate frame in the distance, once more the beat of his heart waivers. Truly, there is a certain appeal to you he wishes to familiarise further, nevertheless, he must not.

After all, Law has a goal, his mind is set, determined to avenge Corazon. It takes his all to commit to this plan, hence there is no space . . for love? Confliction restricts the Surgeon of Death's tunnel vision, professionalism slowly but surely fading by your 'intrusion'.

He must admit, he's fighting the urge to give in to your sweetness, surrender to his own emotions towards you. You peak his interest, though to his momentary disapproval.

But what if he is able to fulfill his wish? When the world finally reaches it's well deserved state of peace and freedom. Will he earn your attention, your affection?

What if . .

[magniloquent-raven]

i wrote this for me but yall can read it too if u want 💖it's just 2k of piercing kink lmfao

(so. cw needles)

"What's this?" Billy flicks a balled up grocery bag aside, plastic clips and crumpled receipts rustling as he shifts the mess around. He's pretty sure Steve hasn't cleaned this shitty little table out since...ever, probably. If he digs far enough he'll probably find whatever crap the previous renters left behind.

Steve flops on his side, wriggling over a cushion to join him, and propping his chin on the arm of the couch. It doesn't get him far enough to see into the drawer. Billy rolls his eyes and pinches the baggie, lifting it high enough to sarcastically wave it in Steve's face.

Needles glint in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Straight, silver, hollow-point needles, individually wrapped in neat little conjoined packages. There's other shit in the bag too, antiseptic wipes in packets stamped with green lettering, weird looking tongs, latex gloves rolled into a nearly unrecognizable blue mass.

Maybe the better question would've been why does Steve goddamn Harrington have a piercing kit?

Steve blinks at it, recognition dawning at a snail's pace. "Oh, that." He folds his arms under his chin, resting on his forearms. His cheek squishes a little and Billy wants to do something stupid. Like. Grab his face. Or kiss the dumb little wrinkle between his brows. "That's Robin's fault."

"What."

"She wanted her nose pierced. And it's, like. Cheaper to just buy the stuff for it, I guess." He blows a strand of hair out of his eyes, and Billy's fingers twitch. "I told her it was a dumbass idea. But it turns out, not for the reasons I thought. She freaked out when I put the needle through. So. Yeah. It was a whole thing."

"Hm."

Billy eyes the kit. Imagines Buckley flailing and teary with a needle stuck in her face. Expects to be amused by her being a giant baby but instead the thought...changes. Shifts. To Steve and his careful fingers, gently preparing the spot, guiding her head to the right angle...

A surge of jealousy hits him in the chest, and the scene blurs, getting less coherent, until—

Cold needle and warm hands, the sharp rush of it, pain and heat and an indefinable feeling prickling up his spine.

Billy fiddles with the silver hoops in his ear.

There's something simmering in his gut. Nerves, maybe, partly. But it's more than that. Deeper. He bites his lip.

"You should do me too."

Steve sputters, a pink flush blooming on his cheeks.

Billy grins at him, all canine and confidence he doesn't feel. "Piercing, Harrington."

"But—"

"Nah, c'mon, we're doing this." He tosses the baggie at Steve—who fumbles, but catches it—and with his newly freed hands, strips off his shirt. He drops it on the floor, not bothered about where it might land.

Steve is doing his best impression of a fish out of water, shallow, quiet breaths the only sound escaping his gaping mouth. His entire face has gone splotchy. It's kind of adorable.

"I don't have all day," Billy prods. He does, and even if he didn't, he'd make time. But Steve doesn't need to know that. "I'm not gonna freak out, if that makes you feel any better. Cross my heart." He draws an x on his bare chest. Steve's eyes follow the motion, and linger even after he's dropped his hand.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Lingering. Looking. It's...interesting. Exhilarating.

"This is a stupid idea," Steve says faintly.

"When has that ever stopped you?"

That gets a laugh out of Steve, the corner of his eyes crinkled as he scoffs and acts offended. "Whatever, man, just don't blame me if it gets infected."

They're doing this. They're fucking doing this. Billy's stomach swoops like a bird in flight.

This is such a dumb idea.

Billy doesn't care.

He sits on the coffee table, across from Steve, who's still half-lounging on the couch. Their knees brush, and Billy feels it everywhere. He's a live wire, tense and jittery as a current runs through him, tingling in his extremities and coiling in his guts. It takes more than a little effort just to keep still and appear unaffected.

Steve eyes him, his gaze wandering up and down. "So. I'm guessing you don't want it in your nose..."

Billy snickers at that, he can't help it. "Do you say that to all the girls?"

"Good idea, mock the guy who's about to poke holes in you."

"No, no, I'm being serious," Billy dissolves into further giggles, "If you haven't figured out where to stick it yet I'd like to know."

"Har har."

"I could give you some pointers."

"Are you done?" The question is punctuated by the elastic snap of Steve pulling on a latex glove. He's trying to keep his expression neutral, unimpressed and unamused, one eyebrow raised and his lips flat, but there's a hint of mirth glittering in his eye and the corner of his mouth keeps twitching. Overall the way he's watching Billy fall all over himself laughing is too fond, too warm to be convincingly annoyed.

That shuts Billy up faster than genuine annoyance would have. He rubs the back of his neck, like he can wipe away the hot flush with his hands, and he ducks his head to hide a dopey grin.

"Alright." There's a rustling noise as Steve digs through the bag. "Um. I gotta." He waves the wipe he retrieved, vaguely gesturing at Billy's chest with it. The kit is clutched in his other hand, wrinkled between his tense fingers.

"What are you waiting for."

Steve inspects him. Silently. Eyes skimming over his chest again, flicking up to his face nervously. "You're sure about this, right?"

"Yes."

"You're really—"

"Steve. I really want you to do it."

Steve lets out a slow, quiet breath. "Okay." He nods, his expression hardening into something more determined. Something that makes Billy want to kiss his stupid face even more than usual.

It doesn't help that the next thing Steve does is put his hands on Billy's chest. He only needed one. Two fingers separated from Billy's skin by cold, damp antiseptic. Two fingers circling the hard nub of his nipple while his thumb brushes sensitive skin underneath. That would have been overwhelming enough. But Steve shifts closer to him, perched on the edge of the couch, positioning himself between Billy's thighs, and skims his palm up Billy's side, over his ribs, for no goddamn reason.

He's not keeping Billy in place, his touch is too soft for that, he's just...holding him.

Billy's insides are mush. Hot syrupy goop.

And his dick is a hard line in his jeans, straining against his zipper.

He bites his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth to keep quiet. It feels wrong somehow, to look at Steve right now, while he's getting off on something that's...it's not the same for Steve. They're not on the same page, and he knows it. But he can't tear his eyes away. He's so close. And so pretty. Even more so when he's concentrating. Dark eyes focused only on Billy. Lips parted just a little.

"Okay, I gotta use the...this thing. Now." Steve tosses the wipe aside and picks up the clamp, clicking it a couple times and staring at it like it's a note written in a foreign language.

"Mhm." Billy does his best not to squirm.

See, the thing is, Billy's the only person who's ever done anything to his nipples. Like it's never occurred to the people he's slept with that he'd enjoy it. Maybe they just didn't care to ask. And maybe he was too embarrassed to bring it up. Chicks like getting their nipples played with, okay. It's...it's stupid that he can't get himself off without one pinched between his fingers. It's weird that sometimes he neglects his cock because he's got both hands up his shirt.

Turns out being touched by someone else is on a whole different level. Touched without a flimsy barrier between them. Touched firmly, with intention. 

He sways forward, jolting a little when Steve pinches, tugs, sending a bolt of heat right through him. He grips the edge of coffee table hard enough to hear it creak.

The clamp is colder than the wipe. Or maybe he's just warmer now. He can feel his pulse pounding, and he can almost hear the blood rushing south. 

"You're being really quiet," Steve says carefully. The clamp is securely in place, but Steve hasn't taken his hand off Billy's chest yet. His palm is a little sweaty, cupped under Billy's pec, his thumb moving absently in circles that make Billy shiver. 

"Is there something you'd like me to say?" Jesus, he didn't expect to sound so hoarse. 

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it again. "Um." He busies himself with rooting through the kit to fish out a needle. "Nope. Just. Usually I can't get you to shut up, so." 

He doesn't have a witty reply. Or even a fucking stupid one. There's nothing in his head but static and a silver gleam. 

"Last chance to back out."

Billy lets out an annoyed huff. 

"Okay. Well. Here we go." 

Here they go. 

Billy's breath catches when Steve unwraps the needle, his imagination already three steps ahead. The phantom sensation is enough to make his dick throb. 

He's as patient as he can be with Steve's hesitation. His lingering a hair's breadth from Billy with the needle's point. His shaky little breath to steel himself. Billy's about ready to crawl out of his own skin by the time Steve finally thrusts in and pierces him. 

As much as he was waiting and waiting and waiting for it, he wasn't fully expecting it when it happened, and it knocks the air from his lungs. One small point of contact is his whole world for the seconds it takes to pass through, one crystalized moment, sharp and shining. And then the rush. The blanket of warmth that settles over him afterwards. 

He doesn't realize his eyes have fallen shut until he opens them again, blinking until Steve's wide-eyed stare comes into focus. 

"I've got the, uh. Barbell. Gonna put that in now."

It's a tricky part. Billy wonders vaguely if Steve actually knows what he's doing, and he finds he doesn't care. He cares even less when he feels the needle move again, tugging, rubbing against sensitive skin. His gaze drops to the little bit of tongue poking out the corner of Steve's mouth, and everything else seems a little blurry. He shifts his hips, just a little, he can't help it. It's not a conscious thought, it's just friction; Steve's clever fingers and the warm scent of honey shampoo are making him dizzy. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, letting himself sink a little deeper into the haze of sensations. 

"There! Done," Steve says it, but he doesn't pull away. "Did you want the other one—"

"Yes."

Steve blinks at him. "You seem kinda…" His gaze wanders. Downward. A little more. And then his eyes widen. "Oh."

He doesn't sound as freaked out as Billy might've expected. He mostly sounds…curious. Which. Is very interesting. 

"Well. I guess I'll do you again then."

Holy shit. 

Okay.

It's different the second time. Steve's different. He teases, wiping Billy clean for much longer than he needs to, circling and circling 'til Billy's squirming, aching, wanting more but unwilling to beg. Every time he shifts his hips a shudder jitters up his spine. His briefs are wet and sticking to the tip of his dick, still uncomfortably trapped by denim.

It's also harder to keep track of Steve's individual movements. Getting the clamp, unwrapping the needle, putting the bag down, throwing the ripped packaging aside. The first time he was hyperaware of everything, anticipation clawing at his patience. Now, he's sinking into a warm bath, he's floating on a cloud, he's loose-limbed and more focused on the hot flush on his chest and the darkness of Steve's blown pupils than anything else.

There's just…moments. The surprised part of Steve's lips when Billy accidentally lets a whimper slip. The needle point piercing his skin. The sudden wave of heat that slams him in the gut when Steve brushes his knuckle over Billy's swollen nipple, the way his vision whites out and he trembles and he fucking cums in his jeans, while sitting on Steve's goddamn coffee table.

He's not sure when exactly Steve finished up, but suddenly he's all too aware that his chest hurts and his underwear is sticky and Steve is looking uncertain again, despite his hand resting on Billy's thigh.

"So…that was…" Steve flounders. Pauses. Opens his mouth to keep floundering.

Billy kisses him. It's one little peck on the mouth. Just one. It's two seconds of contact, and Billy's heart is only racing because he just had an orgasm, okay.

"Thanks," he says, his voice embarrassingly soft. Like that's gonna make everything less weird. 

But Steve smiles at him. Cracks a grin, and then snickers. Because, yeah, sure, it's weird, it was all weird, but…maybe that's fine.

tag list @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you 💕

[xreader-headcanons]

CG!Miguel O’Hara X Agere Reader

An extremely awkward caregiver.

He does a lot of arts and crafts stuff with you as well as those science toys.

He gives you a lot of praise for your art.

⬆️ “¡Vaya! Tu dibujo es realmente bueno, cariño.” (Woah! Your drawing looks really good, dear/general affectionate term)

Miguel isn’t quite as physically affectionate as other caregivers, but if both him and you are sleepy, he’s down for cuddles.

Miguel definitely prefers doing stuff and going on mini adventures with you.

If he gets called into a mission, Lyla will babysit the you.

Lyla also helps you with pranking Miguel, and she also makes stuff like ‘get out of trouble free’ passes and ‘potty mouth’ passes.

Miguel tries not to encourage your shenanigans by laughing, no matter how much he wants to.

He also gives you a lot of stuffed animals

Also, Miguel carries you.

He’s huge; so no matter what your size, you’re going to be carried.

Keeps a good eye on you and is extremely anxious that you’ll get hurt when you’re regressed.

“Be careful, bebé. Try not to run so fast.”

If you do get hurt, he has a bunch of Spider-Man bandaids to fix you up and you get to watch cartoons afterwards.

He also adores making food for you and loves having fun with it (think apple turtles, snail oranges, or dolphin bananas).

Sometimes, especially if it’s an anniversary of something related to Gabriella (birthday, death date, accomplishments, something like that), he’ll hold you close to make sure you’re safe.

⬆️ He makes sure to not show how sad he is during the moments, but he does noticeably cling closer to you.

[itsagrimm]

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 6 - Safekeeping

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN dead fish

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by @queenquazar. She is a writer as well and does amazing work which you should definitely check out.

2,3 k words

Masterlist

The water ran playfully past your bare feet dangling in the little stream. You had taken off your shoes, sitting at the grass covered bank while watching König fish. It was shallow, but you could not bring yourself to go deeper than this. König of course did not mind the water, hip deep, and comfortably towering as he straightened victoriously like a tree surviving the flood to pass you one sorry little flapping creature after another, asking you with much elation if that sorry thing would do for lunch.

“A Pike? Yummy.”

“No, not the Rodd. Too much bone.”

“Please don’t make me eat a snail.”

“Another Pike! How did you manage to catch a second one so quickly?”

As the caught fish collected in a basket next to you, waiting to be gutted and prepared, you leaned back on your elbows. It had been a… strange morning.

König had come inside your home for breakfast, only to reveal you might die due to the dangers of being his underwater queen. His words had felt like getting pushed back into a dark pit you had barely managed to crawl out of moments ago. Every time you gathered back your strength, something happened, and you were back where you started. But unlike you, König was not as quick to give up and dragged you back up once again from the pit.

 In fact, you wondered why he had not given up on you, just leaving you to find himself a better, more suitable, queen? No, König was bent on keeping you alive, jumping up from the kitchen table declaring ‘I have an idea’ and running out, shouting for the Heron. Confused, you had stayed where you were, only for König to run back in again, lifting you up in a surprising hug accompanied with a ‘you will live, you will live’-chant. You had squeaked in surprise, and he nearly dropped you on the floor, mumbling an excuse before running out again and returning what felt like no time with a bit of fresh birch bark, asking you for a knife.

“Why?”

“It is to write a letter.”

Confused, you passed him a kitchen knife and he started scratching symbols into the soft bark with it. The little blade looked so ridiculous in his large hands, like a dainty daisy in a bear’s claw. Despite it all, you laughed. A desperate little laugh fighting its way out of your lungs.

He looked up.

“What is it, Bride?”

“Nothing. Your hands are so big and the knife so small. That is all.”

He leaned back.

“Would you prefer to write yourself with this tiny knife in your tiny human hands?”

“I can’t,” you replied shortly, still giggling. What a stupid question.

“Why? Can you only use a knife to chop fish?”

“Yes,” You dead panned and smiled softly, the easing laughter helping you with your heavy mood, “I can’t read. Women do not read or write. Don’t you know? Only men can and Ivar, the village teacher, never allowed girls, despite my brother being a student of his and practising at this table next to me. I still was never allowed to attend.”

König frowned under all the messy tangled hair.

“We should change that. Downstream in the cities, everyone knows how to read and write - man, woman or whatever you humans can be. It would be good for you to learn it - but not today. The Heron will not be able to guard you. They have to deliver this letter and hopefully give us the help we need for you to stay alive.”

He paused, his eyes shifting from the pragmatic to a soft questioning gaze.

“Would you like to spend the day with me instead, Bride? I promise, I’ll keep you as safe as the Heron.”

And that was how you ended up wandering the forest with König. Watching him search for trees to fall for the palace with his big axe, while you followed collecting berries and harvesting herbs with your little, tiny kitchen knife until you grew tired and rested at this little stream.

A little splash of water to your face made you squeal in surprise, and you opened your eyes.

König stood before you, a huge catfish under his arm struggling to get free and splashing water everywhere.

“Don’t fall asleep in the sun, Bride,” König chided softly. “You will get a headache from it. The old man complained about it all the time.”

You giggled. “Yes, grandfather liked to have naps but never chose a good spot for it.”

You got up to move into the shadows of a willow for a quick nap.

König nodded approvingly, the catfish under his arm joining in in an attempt to get free.

“Can you make a fire before you nap? It is not my strong suit and, unlike me, you don’t eat raw fish.”

Surprised you turned to König. The man who appeared to be able to do anything – scare away Ivar, summon speaking animals and swamp lights, catch fish and lift heavy wood – did not know how to make a fire.

“No fire under the water, remember?”

You paused before nodding.

That made sense.

The catfish nodded too before finally wiggling out of König’s grip and slipping back into the water.

With a curse König dived after it, leaving you to make a fire.

With practised ease you build a little pile before lighting it up and feeding it more air and dried bark until it was big enough to sustain itself.

Casually you grabbed a few sticks, sharpened them with your knife, gutted and cleared the caught fish and skewered the pike meat wrapped in some of the herbs. It would make for a great meal and you felt your body going from tired to awake enough for food and an eventual nap afterward.

König emerged from the stream and stepped on land, his unhuman appearance mostly covered by a dripping cloak except for the shimmery wet skin from the water and the sunlight.

“No catfish?”

He grumbled something in defeat before sitting down next to the fire.

“You need to teach me how to do this fire and cooking thing, Bride. Could be useful.”

“Oh yes, I will,” You promised, “Who else is supposed to make meals while I sleep?”

He chuckled.

“You humans are so delicate – always needing rest, food, shelter, air, water – but only the clear sweet waters and none of the green or salty ones. I wonder how you make it through the day laughing. Your lives are so harsh.”

“It is pretty okay being a human.” A grin spread on your face as you shrugged. “Better than coming from the water and having to munch raw catfish. Oh wait, the catfish got away. Guess you’ll go hungry, love.”

The word slipped out of you before you could think - a little treacherous word telling of little, treacherous dreams in your little, hopeful heart.

Love.

You looked down, pretending to concentrate on the fire and picked up one of the sticks to grill the fish.

“Be kind and do not let me starve, maiden.” König called out playfully and picked up one of the prepared sticks. “How do you do this?”

You showed him how to hold the fish without burning it, reminding him he had to turn it once in a while, so the fish will be cooked from all sides, and explaining how you used the herbs on the meat.

“And no bark?” König asked after your explanations.

“No bark.”

“Hmpf.

You looked up at him, his features hidden by his hair and hood. Except for his mouth with gleaming sharp teeth turned down in an unhappy frown.

Very sharp teeth.

You shivered, the reality of your fiancé’s inhumanness hitting you in the face like water from the struggling catfish desperate for life.

“Humans do not eat bark but if you like it so much, do what you want.” Your voice went thin as you spoke, a strange lump of fear and worry weighted down deep in your gut.

“Say, König,” you started. “What exactly is so dangerous about me becoming your wife?”

There, the words were out.

Hanging in the air like the skewed fish over the fire, slowly burning and sizzling away skin – painful and inevitable, unless doing something to prevent it.

König sighed.

“My brother,” he explained with a defeated tone, “Can be very pessimistic. He said I might accidentally kill you by drowning. But,” He looked at you, his eyes clear as ice piercing through any doubt. “I will not do that. I promise you are safe with me and there might be someone who can help with removing that danger. Also,” He continued as a careful, toothy smile grew on his face. “So far I have at least somewhat succeeded in keeping you safe, right? You are here and not hurt or hidden away in the house. Not saying I’ve done it perfectly but…” His voice rippled off in waves, making your eye brows narrow slightly

“It is good enough for now… right?”

You stared into the fire, thinking about König’s words. Yes, you were afraid. His otherness sometimes confusing you, or making you withdraw from him in fear. But never had he done anything to harm you.

At least not willingly.

Yes, there were accidents and mistakes. But, he tried to keep you safe and looked out for you. You could not remember anyone being so honestly interested in you and your well-being. Not the villagers who dropped you the moment you became uncomfortable for them. Not the boys you had kissed in secret, or girlfriends who had stopped visiting you when you started to cry more than you laughed from all the death and misery in your life. And certainly not your family who loved you, but kept you as their obedient child to help at home and carry any expectations they placed on you without opposition. That included your beloved grandfather who promised you to someone without asking your permission, counting on you to just follow his command. Love was complicated. You missed your family, your friends and old life. But there was bitterness thinking about them now. The old house had become as much a sanctuary as it was a prison.

Being with König was not that different: like an axe to build a new palace or yield as a weapon.

Yes, it was unfortunate how you had come to be the Bride of the King from Under the Water.

And maybe it would be your death.

But so far, your engagement has come with much more grace than you had ever known.

“Do not worry, my love,” You whispered those words with a grim dedication to all that it might include. “I know you are keeping me safe, and I trust you will continue to do so.”

The silence of your words weighed heavy as you stared into the fire without seeing the flames.

A hand touched yours and you jerked up. König had moved closer, carefully lifting your hand with the skewered fish up and away from the heat.

“I am not much of an expert on fire but this looks like you could light yourself up like that,” He declared with a soft ring as if trying not to smile. “You said it yourself - ‘turn it so it does not burn’. I would do a poor job keeping my bride safe if I let you burn your fingers now.”

You blinked in confusion, before adjusting the grip on the stick in your hand under his large right palm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

He kept his hand around yours - warm, strong, pleasant - and you hummed in approval as his other wandered around your shoulder and pressed you closer to his side.

My bride. My bride.

That’s what he had said.

The words rang pleasantly in your ears as you nuzzled into Königs chest.

XXX

Cultural context notes:

König writes in Old Church Slavonic. Old Church Slavonic is the basis of many the Slavic languages written form. It was ‘created’ by two monks named Methodius and Cyril (That’s why the modern alphabet is now called Cyrillic) who were tasked with helping to convert the Byzantian Slavs in Moravia to Christianity. To do that they translated several religious texts, most importantly the Bible, into Old Church Slavonic which could be understood by the Slavs. Old church Slavonic is really cool and can still be understood by many modern speakers of Slavic languages despite coming from the 9th century. Also, the Polish band Batushka / БАТЮШКА sings in Old Church Slavonic if you want to know what it sounds like.

XXX

shoot me a message if you want to be tagged as well. (-:

@thesinsoflust @kdkj122920 @die-prophetin @lillianastuff @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @fatedeniedhope @queensidillasworld @agspgrwasb @silelda @unlikepoltergeist @matcha-flavored-cake @blvkwondaland @diamondnightdreamer @brooklyn-1918 @thorns-x @icepancakes

[arealphrooblem]

A Favor for a Favor Part One

This was written for an original exchange and it got way out of hand lol. The link to the full fic will be at the bottom but I thought it would be fun to throw it up here in parts. This does have named and gendered characters though

Synopsis:

When Roxanne -- Agent name Rocket -- is back-stabbed by a friend and given a serum that drains her of her powers and leaves her helpless, she has no choice but to turn to the one person she can't trust: Her nemesis -- a politician and king of the underworld. With her powerless and in the palm of his hand, what he decides to do with her is greatly influenced by their chance meeting as teenagers that neither of them have been able to forget.

When Roxanne turned 12, she kicked her soccer ball into a tree at the edge of the park. She’d done this many times before, because her aim was shit, which was probably why she never made the soccer team at her school. But this tree was different -- it had a hornet’s nest on the back. 

Roxanne had never actually seen a hornet before that day. Never in her life had she heard a sound more ominous, more terrifying than the buzz of hundreds of them, bigger than her thumb, rising like a dark cloud from behind the tree. 

She didn’t think. She just ran. 

And the whole world changed.   

It was like the entire city became a game of freeze tag or red light/green light. The entire population stood still while she dodged between them. And not just people. Cars stood still on the street, birds stopped mid flight in the air, a stream of pee froze between a dog and a fire hydrant. 

Maybe it was more accurate to say that the world became a photograph and only she could move around in it.

When she stopped, out of breath at her stoop, the world jumped back into motion again.  

Her power gave her freedom beyond anything she ever imagined as a child, and so she kept it a tightly guarded secret against her well meaning but overprotective parents. 

The loss of it now was excruciating. Her body moved like a drunk snail, even worse with her injuries.  The world crawled by at an agonizing pace. And she became so acutely aware of how helpless she was without it as she sat in the backseat of a car, blindfolded and trussed up like a pig at a luau, waiting to be delivered into the hands of her worst enemy. 

The Past

The first time they met, the biggest worry she had was completing her anatomy project. The deadline followed her like a shark’s fin, complete with the Jaws theme that played in her head. Any minute now the panic of her procrastination was going to rise from the depths and chomp her in half.

Which was how she found herself walking home from the public library far later than usual, guided only by dim streetlights.  Normally she would just run home  -- the distance from her front door to the library took fifteen seconds when she  used her super speed. But the sooner she got home, the sooner she had to start on her project, so tonight Roxanne took the normal, slow way back. 

Halfway home, a figure stumbled from an alleyway, colliding into her. Before she could right her balance, he quickly shoved her off of him, almost tumbling her into the street. 

“Hey!” she snapped, but he paid no attention to her, running crookedly down the sidewalk. 

He was probably drunk, trying to sneak home before his wife found out. Or maybe he was late for the subway train. Or maybe he was just an asshole.

The next streetlamp revealed a bloody hand print on her shoulder where he had pushed her. Alarm seized her, kept her frozen for long, excruciating seconds. 

Oh shit. 

Oh shit .

The revving of a car motor snapped her out of her panic induced haze. Roxanne lurched forward, becoming too fast for the human eye to track. The man had disappeared from the sidewalk, so she ducked into bodegas and side streets until she found him propped up behind a dumpster. 

Hiding. 

She crouched down before him. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

Which was a stupid question to ask; the answer was a glaringly obvious no. But she always rambled when she got nervous, which was why her presentations always went way over time. 

The man slurred something in response. She couldn’t understand a word of it. It didn’t sound like the kind of drunk slurring she heard at her friends’ parties. Maybe he’d been drugged. Did someone try to kidnap him?

“Where are you bleeding?” she asked again. “Can you point for me?”

He tried to wave her off, the hand in her face covered in blood from a cut on his upper forearm. There could be more, but he probably wasn’t even in his right mind to understand her. 

“We need to get you to a hospital,” she told him, pulling out her phone. 

He mumbled something at that, sounding panicked. It sounded like no .

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “They will take care of you. I’ll even go with you so you’re not alone.”

His slicked, bloody hand wrapped around her wrist , squeezing hard .

NO

She heard it and didn’t. The word echoed -- screamed -- around her, like the word of God. It blasted in her head. She felt it in her chest. 

He was Powered. That definitely complicated things, especially if he was unregistered like her. 

“Okay, okay,” she said. “No hospitals. No cops. But I can’t leave you here, so . . .I guess you’re coming with me.”

Before he could scream-think at her again, Roxanne pulled him up by his shirt and leaned him against the wall. He could barely stand. With some maneuvering and a few extra tries,s he managed to get him on her back. Then she blurred home. 

Thank God it was only a couple blocks away. He was heavy. 

The Present

She didn’t need her blindfold off to tell where they had stopped. The ocean lapping close by, the echo of pigeons above her, the smell of rust and dirt. The freezing cold air.

An empty warehouse by the docks. 

They had to carry her like a sack of potatoes because of how tightly they bound her legs and dropped her roughly onto a chair. 

“This is ridiculous,” she pouted. “I came willingly.”

“Our boss always made it clear never to take any chances with you,” replied one of the men with a snort. 

Well, she couldn’t blame him for that. Over the years, she’d been responsible for breaking a lot of his power in the city underworld and losing him a lot of money. Like a lot . 

Not to mention she needed the shadow that her power’s reputation cast to last as long as possible. Once the truth got out she was toast. 

He could have made her wait in that freezing warehouse as her limbs went slowly numb just to be a dick. She fully expected it. 

Instead, she heard the rumble of another car pull up just when her finger tips started to feel tingly. Then came the distinct sound of his slow, sure footsteps in his Italian leather loafers.

“An abandoned warehouse by the docks?” she complained. “Could you get any more cliched?”

“If it works, it works,” he replied. “I don’t try to reinvent the wheel.”

He stopped in front of her and she could feel the smirk on his face. 

“I should take a picture to immortalize this moment. I never thought I would see the Rocket so  . . .still.”

She’d squirm if she could move. Panic kicked at her chest like a wild horse. It took all her effort to contain it. 

Cool fingers pulled down the blindfold and her gaze met his dark eyes and yes, his smirk. 

“Hello, Roxanne.”

“Hello John,” she countered. 

“Please, I’m dying to know -- what on Earth drove you to offer yourself to me so . . .” he trailed off, his smirk disintegrating into shock. 

She could barely feel him this time. He glided into her mind like a canoe on a glassy river. 

“Oh Roxanne,” he breathed. “You are in trouble.”

Full story here:

Part 2 here

[chicoryglass]

genshin men at the beach!

characters: childe, itto + the arataki gang, thoma, xiao, zhongli

✦✦✦✦✦

childe

✦ this man wants to impress everyone, especially his siblings.

✦ lathered with sunscreen of the highest SPF he could find. he really hopes he didn't miss a spot.

✦ he takes to beach volleyball, definitely showing off and letting the competitive spirit get the better of him

✦ throws the ball up, runs up, jumps, BLASTS it his opponent's way. gets salty if they quit on him. (dude, no one wants to go to the ER over a beach ball 'accident')

✦ his demeanor changes dramatically if he's babysitting his younger siblings, though. becomes the coolest older brother – wanna gather crabs, or snails? he's already getting a bucket and scouring the beach for a perfect spot, playing it up for them like they're on a hunt. wanna build a sandcastle? he's helping them construct one that would put the best architect to shame.

arataki itto + the gang

✦ where do i even begin.

✦ itto's the one jacked guy wearing undies only, glistening with oil or sunscreen he made his gang apply onto him.

✦ does everything to impress his gang. constantly bothers shinobu, who's just trying to relax and sunbathe. she claims to not know any of them.

✦ at first he wants to surf, claiming that he's ridden waves at least three times larger than the ones he's about to.

✦ he does not, in fact, know how to surf.

✦ proceeds to make a fool of himself by spectacularly getting knocked off into the water, breaking one of the rentable surfboards in the process.

✦ doesn't want to tell shinobu, but to his demise, she's developed something of a sixth sense when it comes to the gang's troublemaking. and if she didn't, takuya or hanakado would inevitably tip her off.

✦ shinobu's wrath is inescapable. she pays for the broken surfboard out of her own pocket, seeing the gang's combined handful of mora on them. the gang is banned from surfing (or, rather, attempting to) until further notice.

✦ itto's plan B is to build sandcastles. a couple minutes later, he's challenged a group of kids to see who builds the best sandcastle. the arataki gang lost.

✦ in lieu of repaying the recent debt to shinobu, itto insists on earning some money on the beach.

✦ for a while, they set up fried lavender melon stands, courtesy of shinobu getting them a permit.

✦ archons forbid they somehow get their hands on a metal detector to try and sell some scrap. the beach becomes an excavation site, riddled with holes big enough to sit in. at least they're cleaning it up...?

thoma

✦ this man is too good for this world.

✦ probably checked if there's no crabs buried in the sand underneath the spot he picked, before settling down. if there are, he gently scoops them out and places them somewhere further away. manages to not get pinched like the chad he is.

✦ brought a picnic's worth of food, drinks and snacks to the beach.

✦ it is a picnic, actually.

✦ ayato didn't have the heart to tell him that this much food is unnecessary. thoma only just realized that, and laughed sheepishly.

✦ a solution presented itself when some kids caught a whiff of his amazing cooking and came by, asking if they could have some.

✦ he gladly shares with them, listening attentively as they tell him of their adventures on the beach, and all the cool things they found. he makes sure to pat each one on the head, praising them. in the end, this golden retriever of a man got adopted by a group of kids as their uncle lol

✦ cleans the beach as he goes, actually. notices how much trash there is, makes a mental note to himself to bring some proper equipment for it next time. thoma, please lie down, you're supposed to be relaxing :(((

xiao

✦ the actual cool guy itto and childe want to be.

✦ you know those mysterious, silent, brooding types of people, who capture your entire attention by just being there? yeah, that's him.

✦ he shows up at the beach with his surf board in hand, dressed in one those skin-tight black surf suits that cover his entire body nearly head to toe.

✦ turns a lot of people's heads, he's such a stark contrast to the casual, bright-colored aesthetic most beach-goers have.

✦ originally, he planned to surf in a different, much less populated spot - his go-to - yet sadly the waves were too small.

✦ lowkey annoyed at the large number of people on the beach, highkey annoyed at all the attention he's receiving.

✦ wastes no time getting into the water and onto an upcoming wave. he looks majestic, the way he's gliding through the waves. almost seems like he's flying.

✦ if he were to appear a couple more times, he'd definitely (to his dismay, should he learn about it) earn himself a corny-ass nickname from the regular beach-goers or stall owners, like "black angel" or "waveglider". and become somewhat of a local attraction, or a cryptid, even.

zhongli

✦ did... this man really bring a book to the beach? yes. yes he did.

✦ large straw hat, unbuttoned hawaiian shirt over a white tank top, shorts, and boom - you got yourself a grandpa Zhongli on the beach.

✦ he's also the type of person to wear flip flops to the beach.

✦ for a while he enjoyed the parasol's shade and the cool sea breeze, waves humming him to the state of drowsiness, despite the not-so occasional children's (and a particular oni's) excited yells.

✦ unfortunately, his would-be naptime was interrupted by a kid accidentally kicking a bunch of sand in his direction. at least it wasn't sea water :') with a deep sigh, he carefully shakes his book free of it, crosses his arms, and dozes off.

✦ takes long walks by the water, gathering pretty seashells, amber and seaglass. picks out pieces that remind him of his friends to give as gifts.

✦✦✦✦✦

[beanghostprincess]

(Trans women usopp has stolen my heart I think just love women in general ) Usopp Robin and Nami have a nice self care day with just the girls. (Chopper is invited too, they can't say no to him.) They stay in the shower room, they fill the bath and run the showers on hot. They play relaxing music, Nami bought lavender shower steamers, Robin lit candles. Usopp gets sanji to make hors d'oeuvres and fancy drinks he leaves them at the bathroom door. No peeking!

Chopper brought a video transponder snail to watch a movie. Usopp does their hair she's been practicing her braiding. She gave Robin a nice Dutch braid and Nami a mermaid tail. She also curled copper's little tuff of fur on his head, in return robin has been researching how to do textured hair and gave her a French braid and afro puff combo.

While they were relaxing and talking Luffy showed up asking what they were doing? Nami scolds him for coming in knowing that they're all naked and asks why is he even here? and close the door he knows how fast Brooke and Sanji are.

Luffy explained he only came into the bathroom because he needed to poop (no manners whatsoever) and Zoro was using the other bathroom to meditate. Robin and Usopp are not really affected by his antics and just enjoy Nami yelling at him. Luffy being unfazed by her tongue lashing casually sits down and eats the treats Sanji made for them. He doesn't get why it's such a big deal. Like you're just naked, plus chopper is here and he's not a girl and he's seen usopp naked before (granted this was pre-transition but I guess his point still stands)

Robin invites him to join them but lock the door. You may be the exception but the others are not. Despite Nami's protests Luffy has already stripped and jumped in slashing every one ( imagine getting so far in his journey to become the king of the pirates only to die in bathwater). She sighed in defeat and just accepted that he's here, could be worse.

They continue what they were talking about. Nami is learning how to make hail and she made a tornado by accident of course and she's still trying to recreate it.

Usopp learned how to crossbreed one of her poison pop seeds and her thorny pop seats and made a new weapon. She's also trying to make a pleasant smelling corpse plant. She tried roses, lavender and even sage. But nothing works. Nami suggests that maybe she should use tangerines to cross breed.

Robin has been researching about a vase she found, made of wood and clay. Apparently it's from an island that is isolated from the rest of the world. Everything is handmade or out of scratch, their recipes, their clothing even their soaps. All of their food is homegrown and their meat is known as the best meat in the world.

Luffy didn't need any more convincing he got out and commanded Franky to change course to go to find this island. (Sanji and Brooke tackled Luffy demanding every juicy detail of what he saw in there.) Of course everyone had to get out and get to their stations ruining their whole little spa day. Nami was specifically pissed because she's the navigator.

I love women too <- A lesbian.

This is such a cute and adorable idea!!! I love them!!! I've always thought Nami and Robin let Usopp join their girl nights even before coming out bc they've always felt safe around her, and when she came out it wasn't really a surprise to them tbh. Their spa day looks so cozy and relaxing (until they interrupt them)!! It sounds great. They'd do this 100%. And Luffy would stay bc Luffy is Luffy and the concept of intimacy for him isn't really a thing. Plus bold of you to assume he's a man. Non-binary king, that's what he is. Also Chopper staying with them also makes sense and it's extremely cute!!! Sanji is literally dying to go in there lmfao-- Not to make this about Sanuso but I think he waits by the bathroom door like a wet dog to see his girlfriend again. He misses her! Clingy golden retriever.

[the-common-cowgirl]

It’s Only Forever, Not Long at All…

Chapter 2: Magic Dance

Labyrinth AU Mini-Series.

Goblin King!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Teen

Summary: Aemond watches you try to solve the Labyrinth. He eases your sister’s unhappiness with a song, perhaps he can ease yours as well.

Warnings: Mentions of male arousal, one single swear word.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Hope y’all like this chapter. ❤️

Series Masterlist

Aemond sits upon his throne in the castle, high above the Goblin city. His long, lean legs carelessly thrown over the sides of the throne. His eye, his seeing eye, was cast upon the crystal orb dancing in his hand, the other, preoccupied hand thrummed across his leather-clad tights on thigh muscles. The crystal showed him you, wandering about his maze in search of the very room he sat in, with his goblins and your baby sister in her striped pajamas. 

The goblins play with the babe in his peripheral, showing her different sewn dolls, trying to get her to stop her incessant wailing. Eventually, her crying becomes so shrill it distracts Aemond and he straightens himself on the throne before standing and flicking the wrist of the hand the orb danced in, making it disappear out of the thinnest air. His gaze is dark, unyielding, yet unreadable. He saunters toward the child and the goblins look up to him, gulping in fear as they had failed in their attempts to quiet the child, fear of Aemond’s wrath.

 Aemond tilts his head, hovering, staring down at the girl who’s sitting on the stone floor, still crying aimlessly. He gently squats down, scooping her up, she’s in his arms as he holds her gently as he rises, kicking one of the three goblins that had tried to soothe her and failed. He settles the girl on his hip, holding her in one hand as he procures the crystal orb once again to show the child her sister who was trying to save her from the very man that held her. 

“Your sister,” Aemond begins to the babe who clearly does not understand, “is currently wandering around my Labyrinth trying to get to you.” The babe ceases crying but the stale tears still run. Aemond holds the crystal higher to Sarah’s face, showing her you, turning around a corner, the same corner you had been turning for the past half hour, though you hadn’t realized that. The Labyrinth was playing tricks on you, or was it Aemond? He smiled in amusement at your struggle as he watched you with your sister.

“You remind me of the babe,” Aemond sing-songed toward Sarah, trying to get her quiet crying to cease gently. 

What babe?

The goblins heard his voice, the start of the song and they began singing from there. Sarah looked around, tears cooling on her cheeks to the show in front of her, singing, strumming, and dancing goblins around the throne room. The goblins must have done this before, for it seemed well rehearsed, even to an infant who did not understand. 

Aemond brought his hand up, showing Sarah the crystal orb yet again, “What do you say Sarah? Shall we help your sister along?” Sarah began to giggle manically, seeing her elder sister once again in the glass ball. Aemond hummed, “I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could do,” sweetly and closely to your sister as he held her on his hip, still showing you to her through the crystal in his gloved hand. You were now sitting down on the stone ground of the Labyrinth, beginning to cry in failure as you had realized you were getting nowhere. 

Crying hard as babe could cry.

Aemond smirked at your tears, “What could I do?”

My baby’s love had gone, and left my baby blue.

The chorus of goblins erupted, “Nooooo-bodyyyyy kneeewwwww.”

Aemond pulled your baby sister closer to him, who had stopped crying in confusion, asking her in his sing-song voice, “What kind of magic spell to use?”

Slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder and lighting

Aemond smiled, asking your sister as she began to smile her toothy smile, “Then baby said…”

The crystal displaying you to your sister vanished, Aemond took your sister in both hands as he began to waltz around carefully with her on your hip. Sarah was laughing. 

Dance, magic dance.

The goblins had erupted into a cheerful chorus as they danced around the room and Aemond carefully spun slowly with your sister who had begun to laugh wildly at the scene and the movements in which Aemond was doing. Long had she forgotten why she was crying in the arms of this strange man. 

Since she had settled down, now happy and content in this strange place, Aemond set her in the middle of the room, in a blanketed pit where goblins were still dancing and singing, making Sarah laugh. 

Put that baby’s spell on me~

Aemond smiled at the scene before turning, his long silver hair swaying as he strode away in contemplation toward the hall to the throne room. Shutting the door behind him, the music of the goblins was muted slightly by the heavy wooden door. He procured the crystal orb yet again, watching as you were crying, much like your sister had just been - like a baby. A sad little girl, in over her head. 

As he walked down the hall toward his own chambers, he was in deep contemplation over what to do. He felt pulled to help you, to soothe your crying, as he had just done for your sister. A large portion of his conscience told him to let you fail, just as he had let hundreds of other girls before you who had spoken the words to summon him, take their burdens away. Why now did he feel a small, strange voice saying to help you along the Labyrinth, if only to stop your crying, to ease your sadness and hopelessness.

As he pushed the doors to his chamber open, he had internally decided then, to help you. “What trouble of mine is it to help her so early in this journey anyhow?” He spoke to himself, moreso, the strange small voice speaking to him. He sat on his lush, fabric coated bed that sunk heavily when his full weight was upon it. A hand on the crystal to watch you, another waving over the crystal, using the divine magic of the realm he created, to help you along the Labyrinth, if only for a short while.

As you sat on the dusty, stone ground of the Labyrinth, you heard something, like stone scraping, as you looked up from where your face was buried in your hands, wiping your eyes free of the hot tears to see clearly where the sound had come.

The stones had changed, red arrows every few tiles pointed a way for you to follow. You took in a deep breath, stilling your rapidly beating heart, contemplating if this was another one of the Labyrinth’s tricks. Then, realizing you had no other leads; no other option. You might as well investigate and see where these arrows led you.

Standing, you set off in the path the arrows take you. Around twists and corners, in areas you look like you’ve seen before and areas you definitely had not. You speed up and suddenly you’re moving almost too fast for the stone titles as you see them flipping and goblins underneath are the ones turning them. You slow down and wonder, as a path of arrows is laid before you, why are the goblins helping you? Did their king make them? A smile begins to creep upon your face. “Maybe he wants me to succeed…” 

Aemond watches you, sitting on his plush bed, and a smile begins to creep upon his own face for the mere fact that he was able to take your hopelessness away, dry your tears, and help you get a step closer to him. 

He wonders, gazing upon you making your way upon the path he sent you on, why this brought him joy. Why helping you made his heart warm and color appear on his porcelain cheeks. Then without warning, his body answers for him as he feels his aching cock twitch in his leather tights.

He takes a deep sigh, understanding now why he’s so enamored by your happiness.

Lust. Simply lust.

He gazes back into the crystal orb, silently wondering if you were the one. The one to ease this ache of loneliness he’s felt for a long time, a very long time.

“No,” he answers to himself, “Just another girl…in over her head.”

Although far away from it now, Aemond could still hear the goblins chanting the song he had started.

Dance, magic dance,

Dance, magic dance,

Dance magic dance…

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! As always, reblog, comments and likes are appreciated but not necessary! ❤️

Taglist: @sassysaxsolo @fan-goddess @helaenaluvr

[plainviewwelcomesyou]

Sit the closet one

You play it safe and just sit in the one closest to you.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Ya know what we like to do here, kid? We like to have ourselves a good load’a fun. And hey - what’s more fun than a lil’ game? So let’s play a lil’ game called “Who’s Who”. Need I explain more?

You shake your head ‘no’.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Good. Ya already know ya place.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Obviously -

He puts his hands on his chest.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: There’s me. Good ol’ Lucia Celebration, the one ‘n’ only Birthday King. When things get run, I’m the one runnin’ em. ‘Head honcho’, ‘big shot’, whateva’ words ya have to sum up “the guy in charge”.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: And over there,

He points to another member. This one bearing the resemblance of a three-headed fish.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Is-

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: HARK! FOR I AM IMAGIO DIATRIBE, ORDERER OF THE GUNCH!!! YOU, LOWLY RECRUIT, HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY STRIPPED OF INDIVIDUALITY, AND IT’S ALL THANKS TO ME!!!! ME AND THE GUNCH, OH THAT MAGNIFICENT MACHINE THAT I ALONE BUILT TO PEEL AT THE FREEDOM OF THE MIND - THAT’S RIGHT, THE GUNCH AND ME!!! SO TO HELL WITH THE TULSE AND HER INFERIOR ROBOT CREATIONS, WHO’S LAUGHING NOW YOU FUC-

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Imagio would you please get off of the table.

Imagio is, in fact, on the table.

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: OH.

Imagio is no longer on the table.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Now, for someone who actually knows how to ACT correctly - Mx. Adelias, would you do the honors?

The bird-like being closes the fan that had once been obscuring their face, revealing a suave, put-together appearance.

EIDELIAS ADELIAS: Charmed to. Hello, dear - you can call me Eidelias Adelias, or going by my title, ‘Official Birthday Party Supervisor of Spectacle’.

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: THERE THEY GO, “OFFICIAL BLEHBLEHBLEHBLEEEE”- WEAR IT OUT, WILL YOU?!

EIDELIAS ADELIAS: Imagio, for the self described ‘pillar of control’ you certainly don’t have the best grasp on controlling yourself~

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: I WILL RIP YOU APART YOU LITTL-

LUCIA CELEBRATION: MR. DIATRIBE I CAN AND WILL RETURN THAT PUNY LITTLE PIPE ORGAN OF YOURS IF YOU KEEP THIS UP!

Imagio gets teary in all three pairs of eyes.

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: MY ORGAN??? MY PRICELESS ORGAN?!

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: THE ONE BOUND OF PIXIE-SILVER AND THE FINEST BIRCH?!

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: I-I SWEAR UP AND DOWN ON MY LIFE, SIR, MOTHER GOSS FORGIVE MY SOUL, I’LL BEHAVE! I’LL BEHAVE!!!! I PROFUSELY APOLOGIZE FOR EEEEVERYTHING!!!!!!! I’M SO SORRY FOR EVER TORMENTING YOU WITH QUARELLSOME NOTHINGS!!!! I DIDN’T MEAAAAN ITTTTTT!!!!!

The fish - or fishes - turns into a shaky mess of incoherent tears. At least she’s not talking anymore, and that seems to be good enough for Lucia.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: B.B., would you-

EIDELIAS ADELIAS: I regret to inform you that it appears that B.B is absent from today’s gathering. In the Gauntlet, I presume.

Lucia looks over to an empty chair, the one meant for B.B.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: RIGHT. RUNNIN’ THE GAUNTLET. YEAH.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: PHINEAS GEARSHIFT?!

An elderly half-mechanized snail-man sitting across from you wakes up from somehow being able to sleep through all this.

PHINEAS GEARSHIFT: HUH? BWHUH? HUH?!!

LUCIA CELEBRATION: READ. WHAT’S ON. THE PAGE.

PHINEAS GEARSHIFT: Oh.

Mr. Gearshift shuffles paperwork around, before reading off one sheet in particular.

PHINEAS GEARSHIFT: ‘My name is Phineas Gearshift, owner of Gearshift Incorporated and a … gl…GLAD endorser of The Birthday Party. As the appointed Old Money Manager of this fine establishment of hardworking individuals, I proudly back the Birthday Party with…MILLIONS of my own dollars…each. Year.’ That good enough fer ‘ya?

LUCIA CELEBRATION: It works.

Little Man sits up from one of the member chairs - shocking you that he even has a chair at all. But, his name is on a plaque, so..?

LITTLE MAN: DHDHDGSGSGSHSSJAHSHSHSSHHSNSNSBSBSJSHSGSBSKSJSJSBJSSJHSHAHSJSJSSHHEBBEJESHSHJSJSJSSBSHSBSSBSISHSH

LUCIA CELEBRATION: …Wisely said, Lil’ guy.

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: WAIT WHY DOES HE HAVE A SEA-

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Shuttup AND LASTLY, THE STAR OF THE SHOW - CINNAFUN SWIRL HERSELF!

Cinnafun laughs and waves awkwardly, looking incredibly uncomfortable for such a confident pop star.

CINNAFUN SWIRL: Ummm. Hiii~iiii. I’m Cinnafun Swirl, and….I….I’m the appointed Diva of Doom, and….~ Ha. Yeah. That’s me. Hi.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: That’s ‘em all, then. Finally. New guy, is there ANYTHING you need me to repeat on that front?! ANYTHING AT ALL?!

(No, we… we can move on.)

(YOU PEOPLE HAVE PROBLEMS.)

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A continuation of this. Titling the written piece as "The Happy Human Meets The Winsome Witch" (get it lol) and deciding that it will definitely be a chapter in my full-length chapter story (I talk more about that here). "Clara" is my wittewife. Some things might not stay the same in the actual story, but this is what I have so far.

Enjoy! <3

"Alright, Syrup," Clara began, a bright and cheery smile on her face as she looked to the blue jay settled on her right shoulder. "You ready?"

Syrup, her palisman, responded with a small nod and a sweet tweet to the question.

Clara giggled at the cute chrip that left the bird's beak. "Same. Time to open the shop!"

As she sat on her stool, the witch used her magic to flip the 'closed' sign to 'open' and folded both of her hands together on the table.

Behind the witch was a sign in feminine lettering that was colored orange on a white background that read 'Clara's Charms'.

The tablecloth itself was decorated with an assortment of new, but also really random, knick knacks from the human world that she found during her trip to the shore.

Excitement started to fill her eyes.

She was so eager to sell them to some buyers who she hoped would be arriving soon to her stand.

The Bonesborough marketplace was always busy on midmorning weekends, which was beneficial for a saleswoman like Clara, but also disadvantageous because of all the other sellers.

The competition, while friendly at times, was also fierce, so she and Syrup had to ensure they were on their A game.

No messing around!

They've got this.

As the two waited patiently for a patron to approach their business, a demon dressed in a doublet walks by their display.

Clara's eyes instantly light up.

A possible customer, she thought to herself.

The witch was determined to seize this opportunity.

"Hello, sir!" She greeted cheerfully, grabbing his attention as he stopped and turned to see her.

"Oh, good morning, miss!" The demon greeted back with a smile, kindly lifting his hat some before setting it down.

"I have a question to ask. Would you be interested in buying this furry piece of fabric from the human world?" Clara asked, picking up a beaver pelt from her table to present to the man.

"It has a variety of uses! For example, you can use it as a scarf." Clara tied the pelt around her neck like a scarf as she flipped the longer end over her shoulder all sassy like.

As she untied the beaver skin, she continued her demonstration by balling it up before putting it on her head.

She then directed both her fingers at it. "A hat. Or..."

Clara removed the pelt from her head and put it back on the table, still in the shape of a ball, as she glanced at Syrup and gave her a nod.

Understanding the signal, the blue jay flew over to the pelt and nestled herself into it.

Jazz hands went to gesture gleefully at the new nest. "Ta-da! It can become a new bed for your palisman!" Clara exclaimed.

"So what do you think? Does this tickle your fancy? It can be all yours for only a total of ten sails!"

She made the material look intriguing enough for someone to be interested in buying it, right?

"That?" The man questioned. He shook his head, pulling out a beaver pelt of his own.

He shined her a somewhat sad smile.

"I'm really sorry, miss, but I had already purchased one from over there," He informed her, directing his finger at a stand that was a few stands away from hers.

It was being run by a literal piggy bank who sat on a stool with a sign above him that read "Mr. Piggy Bank's Human Collectibles".

As Mr. Piggy Bank finished selling a pelt to a customer, more customers came up to him with snails in their hands, eager to buy his items.

"He's selling them for only 5 snails."

Clara's expression slowly changed to sadness.

"Oh...," The witch went, her shoulders rounding forward as the man walked away.

Syrup flies over and settles on her owner's slump shoulder after seeing this, chirping some birdy encouragement in her pointed ear.

Her words would always match the sweetness of her name.

Clara let out a giggle and patted Syrup's head feathers with her index finger.

"You're right, Syrup," she told her blue jay companion, determination shining through in her small smile as she straightened her posture.

"We just have to keep trying."

Syrup tweeted again, giving a single nod of agreement.

A woman dressed regally in a red gown wearing a powdered wig and a fake mole passes by, which makes Clara grin excitedly as she greets her.

"Morning, madam." Clara cutely curtsied to the fanciful woman before continuing with a compliment.

"That red dress looks absolutely ravishing on you," she cheerfully states, finishing her sentence with a light hum.

Despite trying to make a sale to the woman, Clara genuinely meant her compliment.

The woman in red replied with a giggle, slight flush on her face from the polite praise. "Oh, why thank you," she said.

"You know what would go really well with your dress?"

With great elegance, Clara pulls from behind her a folded hand-held fan that is closed.

"This."

The fan is revealed to be the same color as the woman's dress when she opens it.

"It's a fan from the human realm!"

"Really?" the woman asked in amazement

Clara happily responded with a nod.

"Oh, say no more," the woman cheerfully states, reaching into her large, white wig to pull out two hand-held fans that are much more decorative than Clara's single fan.

The witch seller's smile starts to falter.

The woman starts to fan herself with both fans as she speaks.

"I just bought three from that stall there."

Her palisman, a white monkey, pops its head out of her wig and pulls out the third fan as they start fanning themselves gracefully.

The woman glances back at the stand where she had previously been, which was Mr. Piggy Bank's stand.

The pig was very prosperous as he stood silent on a large brown sack filled with snails, selling hand fans left and right to customers.

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but the woman was already walking away. "Thank you for the offer, though."

"You're...welcome," Clara whispered, gazing sadly at her booth table.

However, hearing nearby footsteps causes her to look up.

Clara quickly pulls out a silver coin (a quarter) from the human realm from inside her hair, hoping to sell it, only to see two potential buyers pass by with jars filled with the same coins from the direction of Mr. Piggy Bank's stand.

He now had two big sacks filled with snails sitting behind him, with two picture frames of his piggy bank kids being sent to one of the best colleges in Bonesborough standing on each sack.

When customers came to his stand, they would buy a jar from him, lift him, and shake out the silver coins that he kept inside his body into their jars before paying him in snails.

Clara sighed a second sad sigh, averting her gaze once more as Syrup quietly chriped, rubbing her beak against Clara's cheek.

The witch felt nothing but defeat wash over her.

"Why don't you turn that frown upside down and sell me some of your greatest charms?"

Clara was quick to look up when she heard the soft voice, which was full of happiness and kindness.

A stranger wearing a green cloak with his hood up caught her eye as he stood in front of her booth.

Clara was able to see a small part of his face, and he had the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen on a witch.

He also had an adorable blonde forelock sticking out of his hood.

"R-Really?" Clara sniffled in cute disbelief as she wiped away the start of tears from the corners of her hazel eyes.

The stranger nodded.

He saw how down she looked when he was leisurely walking through the marketplace and wanted to help her out.

Plus, her stand did look quite cute and unique.

"But don't you want to buy from him?" Clara asked, pointing at Mr. Piggy Bank's stand.

The stranger glances in the direction she's pointing and looks back at her.

"Despite the cuteness of that piggy bank, you're even cuter."

After receiving such a flirtatious response, Clara lets out a soft laugh and begins bagging her best items for the stranger, her cheeks becoming the lightest pink.

Her fondness for him was already starting to show.