#like i was speaking about research to people and i was supposed to find like a cassette tape indexed as tape 1924 about a music topic

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.

“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”

Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.

The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.

“Are you sure?”

And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.

The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.

Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.

“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”

Not ominous at all.

Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 

He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.

Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.

The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)

He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.

One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.

Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.

Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.

It’s… nice. A good break if anything.

They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.

“Hi there! Is he yours?”

Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.

“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.

He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.

“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”

Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)

“Sure.”

Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.

“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”

Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.

“Grayson.”

Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.

Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.

Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.

“Funny guy, huh Dami?”

Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.

“Come here, little guy.”

He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.

“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.

Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.

That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.

“Damian,” Batman whispers.

“Bah-mun.”

The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.

Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.

Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.

Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.

“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”

Danny says it so plainly. So simple.

Batman straightens.

“He isn’t yours.”

He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.

Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.

So Damian says nothing.

“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.

“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”

“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.

They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.

“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”

When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.

The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.

[euthymiya]

for you, i’d do it all again — ft. alhaitham

the story of how you replace the acting grand sage as the permanent one. alternatively: three times alhaitham wanted to say i love you and one time he finally does

before you read: 6.2k word count ; fem reader ; friends to lovers ; former bimarstan nurse to grand sage reader (girlboss hours) ; reader is ambiguous but from the desert ; themes of prejudice against desert folks ; lovesick alhaitham ; nahida appearance (she’s very sweet) ; mentions of blood and injuries ; reader sits on his lap ; fingering ; semi public sex/office sex (the door is locked) ; slight hand jobs ; unprotected vaginal sex ; pulling out ; soft linguist alhaitham :(

His head is pounding. Hard.

Alhaitham fights mercenaries often—far too many of them are easy to run into deep into the desert. They tend to get territorial over ruins, too, not too keen on rainforest folk. Their teeth always grit, and their eyes always glare at him like he’s more than just an intruder.

He supposes he is.

For far too long, the desert population of Sumeru has been an afterthought. For far too long, they’ve fought tooth and nail for an opportunity—any opportunity. The desert ruins and their secrets are the few things that they have, the few things that they can cling to. The ruins are one of the rare things that are theirs to control.

Alhaitham doesn’t blame them for being hostile when he approaches. They scoff bitterly when he offers up his Akademiya-approved stamp on a paper to be there.

Get out, they grit, in their mother tongue.

It’s a language Alhaitham recognizes. Something entirely different from anything people speak in the rainforest. People in the city. But he knows what they say—he learned this particular tongue some years ago from a book in his father’s collection. This version is vaguely different, though, something of a dialect, he assumes.

I don’t mean harm, he says quietly, hand held up in surrender.

They pause. One of them, the leader, he deduces, steps up and chuckles.

“Fancy fer a little ‘ol scholar, ain’t ya?” He asks gruffly, “so ya know ta speak a few other languages. So what?”

His grammar is slightly off, Alhaitham notes. He must have picked up what he knows from traveling to and from Caravan Rivat. It’s impressive, Alhaitham thinks.

Only a sharp mind could pick up a language so easily just from hearing bits and pieces in a bustling place like the trading hub between the two borders. He imagines with proper education, this man could put even him to shame with how easily he picks up new tongues.

“I mean no harm,” he repeats. “I’m just here to explore these ruins for research.”

The words seem to do little to ease their minds. Instead, they draw their swords, and just like that, he prepares himself for another grueling fight.

As usual, Alhaitham wins in the end. Not without a good few hits landed on him, though—this particular bunch was a rough fight even for him. The blunt head of a sword handle hitting his head is particularly rough, hence why he lays in the bimarstan, eyes closed as he holds an ice pack to his temple.

“You don’t have to fight every person who picks one with your first,” you chastise, rolling bandages around his bicep where a small gash is littered on his skin.

He grunts, fighting through every pounding thump in his skull as he says hoarsely, “I don’t particularly have a choice. It’s either fight back or be killed.”

“You could always seduce them,” you tease, giggling when he opens a weary eye and gives you an unimpressed stare.

“I have my doubts about that plan,” he says dryly.

“They don’t mean any harm,” you hum quietly, tossing away the dirtied rags you’d used to clean his blood. “The desert folks aren’t exactly the happiest with Akademiya ones, you know.”

“I’d appreciate it if such grievances didn’t have to end with knife fights,” he says tiredly.

Alhaitham, no matter how bloodied or bruised he could show up to you in the hospital, finds that you always have a soft spot for those of the desert. It makes sense, he supposes, seeing as you come from there yourself—still, he’d really appreciate it if you could acknowledge that he’s been a victim of unwarranted violence.

It’s not that he particularly blames them for their actions. Researchers are quite pushy—too pushy, in fact. They take up room in villages they’re unwelcome in often times. They build institutions they’re not permitted to build. They claim ownership of ruins that aren’t theirs to claim.

Researchers like Alhaitham, who intend to observe and do nothing else, aren’t trusted, regardless of their intentions. The mercenaries have taken to force if that’s what it requires to keep the desert rightfully theirs.

“Akademiya-approved exploration permits mean little to them,” you shrug, “the only person I’m sure they’d make an exception for is Cyno—only because he’s one of them. But a lot of people have much to say about him too for leaving nowadays, anyway.”

“How would you know?”

“My mother writes to me,” you say, wrapping up the bandage around his bicep before pulling away. He misses the heat of your fingertips almost instantly, fighting back the urge to grab at your retreating hands.

“Lord Kusanali sent me,” he says quietly. “She…she was looking for something.”

You don’t press for more, thankfully. His vagueness is enough to tell you he probably can’t share much of what he was sent for, and you don’t seem offended even the slightest.

Alhaitham appreciates that. Not many of his friends (if he can call most of them that, anyway) are ever too pleased by his curt, dry answers. Perhaps Cyno is the exception, but the General Mahamatra is equally as curt as the scribe on most days. Kaveh is too nosey for his own good, Dehya is just as pushy for details, and the traveler wouldn’t be so bad if not for that irritating little pixie friend that floats by her head, always demanding for more information.

You never ask for more, though. He likes that about you.

He likes a lot about you. Alhaitham, as emotionally stunted as most people assume him to be, is aware of most of his feelings. Perhaps expressing them is a different story, but recognizing them for what they are is an easy enough step.

He knows early on that he’s deeply enamored by you. Later, he’s not too shocked to come to the realization he’s in love with you, either.

He comes close to saying it sometimes. It’s a dangerous, slippery slope to tread—sometimes whispering I love you feels as natural as saying thank you when you patch him up.

Probably because he says it so many times in his head.

I love you, he says in his mind when you laugh.

I love you, he thinks, when you worry over him.

I love you, he realizes, when you attach yourself to his side and accompany him to Puspa Cafe.

“Speaking of the Archon,” you perk up, excitedly putting away the medical equipment in a rush as you turn to him and add, “did you hear? Sumeru is finally expanding the Akademiya’s education to the desert!”

Alhaitham wants to tell you he’s one of the first to know. He was part of the operation that resolved conflicts and led to this evolvement, after all, but he doesn’t tell you that.

Instead, he nods and smiles softly at you. “I did, yes.”

“It’s wonderful,” you beam excitedly, “I’ve always felt guilty for leaving the desert. Not too many get the opportunities I had—it’ll be wonderful if the children there are granted the same ones, don’t you think?”

I love you, he wants to say when you’re so happy and thrilled by changes he had a hand in.

Pride swells itself into his chest at the look on your face. Alhaitham doesn’t help people for this sense of pride or self-fulfillment—it’s simply the right thing to do, and the course of action that leads to less catastrophe.

The lesser the catastrophe, the easier his life will be.

But for once, he’s proud to have done something for the greater good if it means painting a smile on your face like that.

“It’s great news, yes,” he confirms.

“You’ll have to tell me how you and the others pulled off such a grand scheme sometime,” you say casually, fighting off a knowing smile when he shoots his head up to look at you.

He groans at the sharp pain in his head at the action, rubbing his temple as you laugh.

“How—how did you—”

“I may be out of the loop, but I’m not clueless,” you snort.

You hand him a pill and a glass of water, making him stare up at you before he mumbles, “they’ve asked me to be acting grand sage. Just for the time being.”

“Will you accept?”

He swallows the pill down with a long sip of water before handing you the half-empty glass. With a slow nod, he sighs, “I don’t have too many options on this matter.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re more than capable, Haitham.”

I love you, he thinks, when you make it so apparent that you believe him like you breathe. So easy, so natural. So involuntary.

—————

Alhaitham is tired of being the acting grand sage. He doesn’t mind stepping up and doing something for the sake of his nation—especially when he’s one of the only seemingly capable individuals, too.

Lesser Lord Kusanali requests him to temporarily take the role until she finds someone suitable to take his place. Alhaitham is not one to put his faith blindly into divinity—he doesn’t care much for the divine as it is.

But Sumeru’s archon is one who loves her people. He can admire that much.

So, with a slightly mournful goodbye to his free time, he accepts.

“I’m tired of paperwork,” he grumbles. You giggle, earning a more sour look from him. “Glad you’re amused.”

“Sorry,” you clasp a hand over your mouth as you apologize through your fit of laughter, “it’s just funny to hear from the scribe of all people that paperwork is the main trouble of grand sage duty.”

“It’s an entirely separate realm of paperwork,” he scoffs. “It’s quite tiring.”

Alhaitham, on a normal day, would not accept an offer to stargaze in place of going home, taking a hot shower, and going to bed. Not before reading a few chapters of his book, of course, but that’s beside the point.

It’s a little different when the offer comes from you, though. If it’s you, he has a hard time declining. You don’t seem to notice that yet, which is a good sign, but it leaves him a bit painfully aware of just how much control you hold over his mind.

“I’d love to be grand sage one day,” you sigh, looking up at the stars as you admire them.

They’re not as nice here as they are in the desert, you’d told him one night. In the city, the lights make the stars hard to see. In the rainforest, the thick layer of leaves from the trees makes them nearly disappear. In the desert, however, where there’s nothing to block out the darkness and the fluorescence of the stars, you can see them clearly.

He grunts, hand itching to run a finger over your cheek as he stares at the shadow of your lashes against the swell of them.

“You would?” He raises a brow.

“Yeah,” you nod, humming as you let out a soft exhale. “It’s about time we get a grand sage that doesn’t just care about the rainforest, don’t you think?”

“It’s not easy work,” he responds flatly, “being a sage.”

“So?” You turn to him with furrowed brows, “I don’t mind.”

“Having the power isn’t as great as you might think.”

“I don’t want to be grand sage for the power,” you say through a clipped tone, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, “I want to be sage for the opportunity to make a decision. Not a lot of desert folks have that chance, you know.”

Alhaitham is silent.

Not many people can say they’ve left him with no retort or smart comment to throw back. It’s easy, he thinks, for someone like him to think of Akademiya work as a chore. So many rules and regulations to remember, so many demands people make that he has to keep up with. Request after request. Proposal after proposal. Decision after decision. This type of work seems like too much trouble than he can be bothered with.

Not for you, though. Someone like you has never had a chance to find a chore out of a job you’ve never been granted. Someone like you would never complain over an opportunity you’ve always dreamed of.

He’s quiet for a while longer before he finally murmurs, “you’d make an excellent grand sage. Better than me.”

“You think so?” You beam instantly—he’d chuckle at how easily a little praise brightens your earlier mood, but he’s too busy eyeing the dimple at the corner of your mouth. He aches to trace it with his thumb.

“Yes,” he says simply, “the Akademiya is extending opportunities and developments into the desert. You’d make an appropriate individual to oversee that.”

“Maybe one day,” you whisper, “for now, as long as we get some books for the kids out there, I’ll be happy.”

He loves you, he thinks. He loves you and your kindness, and your ambitions, and your dreams. They’re crystal clear, always so tangible, even if they used to be so far out of reach. He doesn’t think he’s ever had that.

When was the last time he dared to let himself dream? He’s never had any long-term goals that really mattered.

Graduate.

Get a stable job.

Live a peaceful life.

His goals have always been so dull compared to yours. Important things to achieve, nonetheless, but nothing worth remembering.

I love you, he wants to say.

Instead, he mumbles, “there are six libraries approved for construction as of now across a few villages.”

“Did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Approve of them. As grand sage.”

He doesn’t look over to meet your eyes; just nods before swallowing thickly as you grin. You reach over and give his hand a tight squeeze.

The words bubble up his throat once more before dying down from another heavy swallow.

—————

Lesser Lord Kusanali thinks it to be a great idea to allow people to apply to be grand sage instead of appointing someone. Something about getting to see the enthusiasm of the Akademiya and its scholars! as she says.

Alhaitham thinks it’s silly. Naturally, many people apply just for the ambitions of a high paying and largely powerful position. He couldn’t be bothered to glance through most of the applications. He declines half of them as they come—he recognizes enough names to know that none of these individuals have a place in the mechanics of running a nation.

Still, Lesser Lord Kusanali is hopeful. She’s certain there will be a promising applicant who can be relied on to carry the responsibility of leading a nation and its government on deft shoulders.

The only good thing about this system, however, is that Alhaitham gets to make his own suggestion for someone to take his place from the pool of applicants, seeing as he is, of course, the current grand sage. This means he can suggest you through your application—unsurprisingly, you do apply.

The Dendro Archon offers him this as a means of a truce.

He sifts through applications, and she considers his suggestion. It’s a fair trade, he thinks—especially because he can reject everyone who’s not you.

The only trouble is that he has to formally submit his proposal to the sages, too. Should all six approve of his recommendation, Lord Kusanali will accept his decision without any further action.

Should even one decline, you are to meet with the Archon herself alongside Alhaitham so he can defend his position.

That’s a problem—Alhaitham knows you won’t be too pleased to know your position was achieved through his influence, and even more, he doesn’t exactly want to explain all the reasons he admires you in front of not just you but the Archon herself.

He’d rather let a couple of mercenaries in the desert draw their blades on him again than go through that humiliating exchange.

For their own sakes, Alhaitham hopes the sages have accepted his proposition.

And then he sees it—your name on the paper. He stills, carefully plucking out the page and glazing his eyes over the words over and over again before he quickly stands and leaves his office.

“Grand sage Alhaitham, there’s a formal request submitted here for—”

“Not now,” he walks through the doors of the Akademiya in long strides, leaving the poor man to follow after him as best as he can.

“B-but it’s rather important—”

“Leave it on my desk for my return. I’ll look then.”

“It’s rather urgent, you see. We must—”

“I said not now.” He halts to a stop, eyeing the man with deadly, narrowed eyes as his voice comes out in something just short of a growl.

Alhaitham is known across the Akademiya for being dry. Blunt. Painfully stripped of any and all emotion. This sudden show of not just emotion, but pure rage has the man stunned to stiffness as he nods tensely and quickly walks away. He lets out a fuming sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Three out of six sages have declined.

Three. Out of six.

Alhaitham knows that at least two of them have made their decisions simply based on the fact that you come from the desert. He’s never been more certain of something in his life—the sages have yet to all be replaced themselves, and there are two that still remain from the original appointees from Azar himself.

There is no denying Azar’s distaste for those of the desert, and Alhaitham is certain the sages he once appointed years ago would be no different. How else would he hold onto such power all these years if they did not share similar views?

There’s a burning, unsettling rage simmering in his ribcage, pounding into his heart and pumping adrenaline into his veins.

With the power granted to him by the Dendro Archon herself, he’ll take matters into his own hands. (And no, this doesn’t mean his power as the grand sage. This means the much more powerful authority he holds as a vision wielder. A power that none of the sages seem to have acquired yet).

—————

“Lord Kusanali,” Alhaitham greets, bowing slightly as he walks up, noting as you fidget when he joins you to stand in front of the Archon herself. “You’ve summoned me?”

“Grand sage Alhaitham—”

“Acting grand sage—ow,” he hisses, glancing at you as you elbow him.

“Don’t correct the Archon,” you scold quietly. “Apologies, Lady Kusanali. Alhaitham tends to be…stubborn.”

The Archon smiles—it’s hard to think that someone as small and innocent-looking is meant to be the embodiment of wisdom. Divinity that is all-knowing.

Does she know that Alhaitham has made his decision solely based on his heart alone and nothing else? Sure, he thinks you’re very capable for the job—more capable than himself, in fact. And as much as he dislikes this position, Alhaitham will not deny that he does it quite well.

But this decision is based on his feelings. Not his logic. Something he doesn’t do often—if ever at all.

“The scribe and all of the sages have confirmed you to be a suitable candidate for the grand sage of Sumeru,” Lesser Lord Kusanali begins, “as such, I’ve summoned you both here to discuss this possibility.”

“I…oh,” you breathe, voice practically an inaudible gasp. “Me?”

You turn to Alhaitham, as if the idea of him accepting your application seems as something unlikely. He itches to poke your forehead and reprimand you for doubting yourself.

As thought she knows, like she can read his mind, Lord Kusanali eyes him with what almost seems like an amused stare.

“You’re very capable,” he nods, ignoring the Archon’s gaze, “your answers in the application, as well as your ideas, have merit to them. It would be wise for the benefit of all of Sumeru to put them into action.”

“All six of the sages? Approved of me?”

Something bitter bubbles in his chest at the sound of pure shock in your voice.

“Well,” the Dendro Archon hums, “interestingly enough, three of the six sages have decided to resign—it seems we have our work cut out for us to replace them, too. As it stands, we only have three sages—all three have approved of your application.”

“Looks like I’ll be demoting you of your job,” you glance over at Alhaitham. He smiles slightly, humming as he pulls out a book and opens it to his marked spot.

“My pay will remain the same, so I have no complaints. I much prefer the simplicity of the scribe’s role.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on making the scribe’s job too easy once I’m in office,” you tease.

I love you, he thinks, as you sit in awed shock, still processing your achievement.

Alhaitham is almost certain the Archon’s mouth twitches into a slightly wider grin as soon as the words materialize in his head, aching to exist between his lips as well.

———————

Sumeru, the nation of wisdom, is a land where the people are proud of who they are. It’s a nation rich in culture and heritage. There are so many traditions, that Alhaitham himself could never hope to learn of them all from his many, many books on history.

Still, in its surplus of years of being a proud, standing nation, it has never thrived like this before.

You are the answer to this recent development. Many older scholars in the Akademiya are unhappy with your presence at first. Slowly, one by one, they are relieved of their duties by the Dendro Archon herself.

Not many people give you trouble after that.

The first order of business you handle is allowing the Akademiya to grant new students. A good number of desert children and adults have been offered places to study here—more in the last few weeks than there have been in the last few decades. The children are bright, too. You’ve taken to scouting the most brilliant of minds. 

A number of them have even disproven the theses and dissertations of seasoned scholars regarding studies of desert ruins. (Alhaitham finds this slightly amusing, as do you. The irony is not lost on most that the same people who have been treated as lesser for decades have contributed more in just a few short weeks than some at the Akademiya have in years. The two of you have shared a good few laughs over the shame that one too many scholars must be facing right now).

Alhaitham has happily returned to being the scribe (with an added pay raise, of course). He’s back to his much smaller, much quieter office that is less akin to the door being knocked on (or being burst open) and intruding on his peace.

Except today. 

Today, the door is burst open in the middle of him examining files, making him look up unimpressed with an unsavory insult ready on his tongue. He quickly bites it back when he realizes it’s you. 

“Scribe,” you say simply.

“Grand sage,” he responds, raising a brow.

“A word, please,” you shuffle in, closing the door behind you before clicking it locked. If his eyebrow could raise any higher, it would—you’ve never needed to lock him in his own office to have a word with him before, no matter how private the matter. 

“Yes?” He asks smoothly, leaning back in his chair. 

“I’ve been looking to appoint new sages for the three we are missing,” you begin carefully. He stiffens slightly at the topics—he’s sure it doesn’t go unnoticed by you. It seems to be the confirmation you need. “I’ve heard a funny rumor.”

“And what would that be?” He shuffles his papers to seem uncaring, not meeting your eyes. “I don’t typically partake in Akademiya gossip. It’s a waste of my time.”

“Well this particular rumor is interesting—it might interest even you. There’s word that someone of a dendro vision user from the Akademiya has threatened the former sages to leave their positions. There is worry such events could repeat amongst potential candidates.”

“Interesting,” he says plainly as he nods. 

“There aren’t many dendro vision users I know of here,” you sigh. “Haitham, I’m not dense. I earned this position by having the approval of the only three remaining sages. After the other three quit. It wouldn’t take a particularly genius individual to assume what took place here.”

He swallows, taking a slow breath before he quietly murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows. “What are you apologizing for?”

“You’re upset, are you not?” Alhaitham blinks at you in confusion. It’s one of the rare times you get to see him unsure, so unlike the usual know-it-all self he always is. “That I interfered with your application?”

“I’m upset,” you confirm, stepping closer as you inspect him. He feels oddly seen under your gaze. “But not because you interfered. Because that was risky—you shouldn’t go that far for me, Haitham. Why in the gods’ names would you attempt such a ridiculous thing?”

It’s easy, he thinks. Because he loves you. Enough that it’s easy to risk his career and credibility at this institution if it means he can help your dreams become something more than just dreams. He’s come so close to saying it so many times—this time, it falls from his lips before he can stop himself.

He’s not so sure he wants to stop himself anymore. You should know—even if you don’t feel the same, even if you do, you should know.

“Because I love you,” he murmurs. “I’d go even further for you. I can’t help it.”

Your eyes soften. They don't widen in shock or recoil in distaste. Instead, they well with glossy, wet tears that alarm him slightly as he sits up straighter. You let out a light, watery laugh before he can apologize for unintentionally upsetting you with his confession.

“Oh, you fool,” you shake your head, “only you would sooner risk your entire livelihood before you simply admit your feelings.”

“I—”

He’s silenced by the touch of your palm on his cheek. Any words he’d like to say get cut off from his tongue. (He has none, really—as embarrassing as that is to admit for someone of linguist such as himself.) 

“Haitham,” you say gently.

“Yeah?” He croaks.

“Don’t risk your reputation for me again.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that,” he mumbles, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. You follow his tug, carefully seating yourself on his lap before you frown, opening your mouth to protest—but he cuts you off before you can. “But, lucky for me, the grand sage has a soft spot for the scribe. I think that’ll be helpful for any predicaments I might find myself in.”

“Are you saying you want to have the grand sage use her power for corrupted reasons?” You gasp, making him grin as he chuckles. “And after all the trouble you went through to overthrow a corrupt government, too.”

“Is it really corrupt if it’s the only two logical individuals of the nation? I’d say it’s simply an executive decision.”

“That’s not how that works,” you giggle fondly. And then you’re kissing him—Alhaitham has wondered how your lips would feel many times before, but he’s never been fully prepared to truly know. They’re softer, warmer, gentler than he imagined. “I love you too, by the way,” you murmur as you pull away for a moment.

That confession makes him desperately close the gap again, tugging you closer on his lap as he kisses you harder. Deeper. Alhaitham has always admired your goals, your dreams and ambitions. He realizes that maybe he has never given himself enough credit until now. 

His goals, his dreams and ambitions, have always been you. There has never been a more beautiful dream, he thinks—nothing is worthy of comparing to you. He thinks, by default, that makes his ambitions admirable, too. 

“Those sages could not know wisdom, talent, nor brilliance even if the Archon herself presented it before them. Otherwise,” he kisses down your neck, “otherwise they’d have understood it was you. They would have approved of your application. I did this nation yet another favor by ridding the Akademiya of them.”

“I suppose all of Sumeru owes you twice, then,” you hum, breathlessly gasping as he sucks lightly on your skin, right over your pulse point. 

Your hands travel to untuck his shirt from his pants, letting them wander under the fabric to feel over the hard planes of his abs. They’re as defined as they look through the skin-tight shirt he always wears. He groans into your neck as your touch sears into him, just as you gasp when his fingers slip past your waistband and tug down slightly. 

He stops before he can expose anything, however, pausing through a labored breath as he murmurs, “can I?”

“Yes,” you plead, lifting your hips slightly so he can pull the fabric down your thighs, your panties following before he pulls you back down to be seated on his lap. Your fingers tug at his hair when his fingers prod at your entrance. An exchange of sorts—a touch for a touch. 

You whine when his thumb circles your clit as his middle and ring fingers pump into your tight cunt, burying past your folds and finding a sensitive, spongy spot in your walls that makes you bite your lips and stifle a sob. 

“Well,” he says amusedly, “I suppose neither of us are very good models for grand sages if this is the sort of activity we partake in while in office.”

“It’s your fault,” you pant, rocking your hips to meet his fingers as they thrust into you, searching for more, for a deeper, harder pace. 

“Oh?” He laughs, a low chuckle that he sears into your skin with a kiss, working his way up your jaw, “I wasn’t the one who locked the door when I came in. I wonder if you had motives of your own when you came in.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Haitham,” you huff, “I just didn’t want someone to walk in when I yelled at you. I was doing your ego a favor.”

“Do my ego one more favor and cum for me,” he murmurs, pulling you into a kiss as you whine into his mouth and shiver. Your belly erupts with a warmth of pleasure, snapping the coil that sends shockwaves through your whole body. An ache that was building in your core seems to have reached the tipping point, making you quiver on his lap as you shatter from his touch.

He groans, just from the squeeze of your walls around his fingers alone—only Archons know how much he’s itching to feel you on his cock. (He hopes Lesser Lord Kusanali’s seemingly all-knowing wisdom doesn’t extend to this. Sometimes, it feels like she can read his mind—he sincerely hopes she doesn’t have the ability to read just what goes on in his head when he thinks of you.)

He’s hard—it almost hurts from just how much so. You’re kind enough to reach over and slowly work him free from the confinements, letting his erection breathe from the strain of his pants. He tries not to let out a shaky breath when you slowly trace a vein along the underside and study his cock. 

“It’s pretty,” you murmur, “you’re so pretty, Haitham.”

“Stop,” he pleads hoarsely, blush dusting over his cheeks, “don’t stare.”

“Shy?” You giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “C’mon, baby. It’s just me.”

And oh—he could cum from just that affectionate drawl of that pet name and that lingering sweet touch. He twitches in your delicate hold, making you hum in approval before you slowly stroke him, fist gliding up and down the thick girth of him. 

“F-fuck,” he hisses, bumping his forehead against yours gently. 

Finally, when your eyes meet, and you both seem to understand just what the other wants without an exchange of words, you lift your hips slightly, guiding him to your entrance. His hands settle on your waist, slowly helping you sink down on his length as you both gasp at the way he intrudes into your sweet, dripping cunt. 

You’re as tight as he is deep—it makes for a good connection. You squeeze around him the same way he rubs against you. Everything about both of your bodies joining feels like it’s meant to be this way. Him in you and you around him. 

“Fuck me, Haitham,” you whisper, cradling his face in your hands by his jaw. You feel it clench under your palms as he stifles a groan at your words.

“As you wish,” he murmurs. 

The first thrust of his hips upwards makes you collapse against his chest. The second makes you whimper as you cling to his muscled body. By the third and fourth, you’ve adjusted enough that you can slowly roll your own hips to match his rhythm and meet his pace. It makes him sink in even deeper, hit the right spots, and drag along every ridge. 

“S-so big,” you marvel, moaning as the fat tip of his cock brushes against that sweet, sensitive spot in your walls. “You fit me so well, Haitham.”

“And you take me so well,” he groans back, “so tight and wet. What if they’re looking for you right now? I wouldn’t be surprised if they were—imagine how surprised they’d be if they knew the grand sage was falling apart on the scribe’s cock. What would they say?”

“They’d think the scribe has some nerve distracting such an important figure for the nation,” you huff, biting your lip and whining his name when he sends a particularly sharp thrust into your walls. 

He chuckles, panting as he kisses your forehead. “Then I suppose it will be our secret. For the sake of peace.”

“Good idea,” you giggle breathlessly, pulling him into a passionate kiss. 

His hips drill into you, bullying his thick length into your tight cunt—splitting you open on him like you’re his to spread. You are. And he’s yours to have, too, as you pull on his hair and bring him closer, hands wandering over his body as you feel every tight, defined muscle. 

You breathe his name. He breathes yours. Somewhere in the mix, your thumb brushes over his nipples from under his shirt, and his finds your clit to rub teasing circles over. 

“I-I’ll cum,” you admit first, “again, Haitham.”

“Go ahead,” he groans, letting out a soft whine when you squeeze around him at the sound of his low, pleasure-hazed voice. “Cum for me, again. Cum around me so I can feel you this time.”

So you do, giving him what he wants. How could you not when he’s gone to such lengths to make sure you’ve gotten everything you want? You spasm around his throbbing length, squeezing around him and making it harder and harder to roll his hips and fuck into you. 

“Haitham,” you whine, a quiet, high-pitched sound that makes his eyes flutter shut, and his mouth hang open as he lets out a low moan. The sounds you make could be enough to send him over the edge. The soft “I love you,” that you whisper is what ends up really doing it, though.

He quickly grabs your hips, roughly lifting you up before he wraps his fist around his cock and strokes himself, pumping his aching length as thick, hot ropes of cum leak from his tip and drip onto your thighs. He groans, strangled and low, as he makes an effort not to be too loud. 

Your lips map along his jaw and cheeks, kissing soothingly as your fingers stroke through his sweaty hair, helping him work himself through his orgasm as he fucks his own fist. “F-fuck—I…I love you, too. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” 

He can’t stop saying it now that he finally can. So many times, the words have almost escaped from the safety of his mouth. So many times, he’s risked them out in the open air. Now that he knows it’s safe, he wants the words to permanently reside between your bodies, in the atmosphere between you and him, in the middle ground where your skin is separated from his. 

If there is space between the two of you, he only wants it to exist to house all the words he never had the nerve to say to you. All the words he’ll admit to you now. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, “so much. So, so much, Haitham.”

He pants as he calms down, uncaring of the mess for now. With his good hand, he grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before he pulls them both up. His lips press a delicate kiss to the back of your hand. You melt over him. 

“There is no brilliance like you, neither in the rainforest nor desert. I have searched everywhere.” 

Your eyes tear up, a breathy, watery laugh dancing from your wobbly lips as you whisper, “you’re incredibly cheesy for a Haravatat scholar, you know.”

He laughs brightly into your shoulder as he buries into the crook of your neck. 

I love you. He’s always wanted to say it. It feels good to finally be able to. Alhaitham will never take for granted the chance he now gets to say it as often as he wants. 

I would like my man who’s not really my man to defend my honor by threatening violence using power granted to him by divinity on a random Tuesday. That would be nice.

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[ickadori]

++ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

[summary] compared to zayne’s colleague’s accomplishments, as well as his own, you’re feeling sorely unequipped to stand by his side at the banquet.

[cws] fem reader -> hunter reader. bit suggestive at the end, but otherwise sfw. unedited.

You were completely out of your element.

The banquet that you had accompanied Zayne to was everything you thought it was going to be: Prestigious, elite, and entirely out of your league.

Zayne had assured you that you looked the part, and you supposed you did with the getup he had helped you pick out. A beautiful dress that clung to you like a second skin, accentuating all your good points and dolling up your bad ones (Zayne always told you that you had no bad points, and you always told him to get his glasses prescription doublechecked). Your hair was done nicely, tucked neatly with pins that you had nearly been too scared to use in fear of damaging them. A diamond necklace, gifted from none other than Zayne on Valentines night, rested against your skin with a matching set of earrings.

Your heels were from a designer whose name you had failed to properly pronounce repeatedly, and they were just as beautiful as the dress, the perfect color and style to tie the look together nicely.

You looked the part alright, but you felt nothing of the sort. Your nerves had been churning in your stomach the moment you two made it to the venue, and that churning had kicked into tenfold with each introduction.

You met esteemed doctors who you had seen in news articles dozens of times to celebrate their accomplishments, professors that taught at universities you couldn’t even dream of getting into, classmates that screamed money and class with their dazzling white smiles, sparkling jewelry, and bumptious way of speaking.

And they met you, a hunter who had a knack for getting herself injured on the job and making her boyfriend’s stress load even heavier.

You hadn’t gone to college, nor had you held any other job besides being a hunter. You had known what you wanted to do from an early age, and the moment you had turned old enough to join the Hunters Association you ran off to take your test and get the process started. You were proud to be a Hunter and you loved your job for the most part, but standing here now in a room filled with people far more accomplished than you in every way imaginable, you felt…inadequate.

You solemnly sip at your champagne flute as you stand by Zayne’s side, his arm wound around your waist as he talks with one of his old professors. You had tried to keep up with their conversation in the beginning, but once the topic of research came up and the medical jargon came out to play you had tuned the both of them out.

“…like I’ve bored your plus one half to death.” Laughter brings you out of your thoughts, and a sheepish smile takes over your face when you see two sets of eyes focused on you. “My apologies, Miss, this old man just doesn’t know when to shut his trap, it seems. I guess it’s time I find another ear to blab off.”

“Oh, no, please stay, you’re fine! I’m sorry, I was just.. lost in thought.” The man waves you off with a gentle smile.

“You two should enjoy each other’s company before someone else comes to hog his attention.” He jokes. “It was nice seeing you again, Zayne, and please do think about visiting the college sometime to talk with a few of the undergrads. A lot of them revere you, you know.”

“I’ll give it some consideration, Professor Grinley.” With a few more words, Grinley is making his way to the other side of the room and Zayne is letting out a heavy sigh. “Have I ever told you that I love the fact that you can’t hide your disinterest?” You throw a halfhearted thrown his way.

“I hope I didn’t offend him - he sounded so excited to talk with you, too. Oh, now I feel bad.” His arm around your waist tightens just a bit.

“Don’t. I was just about to make our exit anyways if you hadn’t done it first.” He steers the both of you to the outskirts of the crowd, and your shoulders lose a bit of their tension when you feel like there aren’t so many eyes on the both of you. “Something has been bothering you all night and I haven’t been able to figure out what.”

He moves to stand in front of you, head angled down as he catches your eye. “Would you care to tell me?”

“It’s something silly, hardly even worth talking about.” You take another sip of your champagne, this time longer, and Zayne patiently waits for you to swallow and lower your glass back down.

“It’s not silly if it’s upsetting you.” He softly says, pale hand raising to tuck away an errant piece of hair. “Are you—”

“Dr. Zayne!” A bright flash makes you squint your eyes, and you huff at the event photographer before plastering a smile on your face as the both of you turn to face him.

“I never want to see another camera after tonight.” You say through a practiced laugh, and Zayne places his hand on your hip and gives a comforting squeeze. After the photographer has had his fill he’s moving onto the next person, bright light flashing on welcoming parties.

“We can head outside for some fresh air, if you want. The speech isn’t for another hour.” You give a slow nod.

“Yeah, I think—”

“Dr. Zayne! Can you answer a few questions regarding your latest surgery?”

“Dr. Zayne! It’s been so long since our last banquet - how are you doing these days?”

“Dr. Zayne!”

Knowing he’d walk away from the forming crowd with nothing more than a mildly polite ‘excuse us’, you nudge him a bit and give a small smile.

“Go ahead. I needed to use the bathroom anyways.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, now go.” You shoo him to the crowd, not missing the way the corners of his mouth quirk down, and make your exit out of the hall. When the door shuts behind you, the noise goes down considerably, and you sigh as you lean back against it.

The walk to the bathroom is short, and you brace your hands on the sink’s counter as you stare at your reflection. You do look nice - well put together, which is a stark contrast to how you usually look when you’re out in the field with a blade in hand and muck on your clothes.

You’ve always felt like an outsider when it came to Zayne and his work, a little bit less than, and it had been one-sided issue on your part in the beginning of your relationship. There was always a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he could do so much better, and the media only enabled that voice to get louder and louder over time.

Zayne was a bit of a celebrity in his own right, so he often found himself on the topic line of some article or blog, and coupled with being attractive, his love life was usually always one of the main talking points.

You usually steered clear of those things, learning from the first time you had scrolled through an article featuring the both of you and saw many unsavory comments about you in particular, but words always had a way of getting back to you, no matter how much you ignored them.

You tried to pay it no mind -what did it matter that a bunch of strangers on the internet didn’t think you were good enough for Zayne- but it seemed like you couldn’t stop recalling all those things that had been said as you were forced to see just how big the gap was between the two of your worlds.

A sudden knock on the door makes you jump, and you call out a ‘just a second’ as you turn the water on to wash your hands. The sound of the knob turning makes you frown, and you turn your head to protest, only to stop when Zayne steps inside and closes the door behind himself.

“Zayne?”

“I believe I’ve finally figured out what has you upset.” You quirk a brow before pulling free a paper towel from the dispenser.

“Have you?”

“I have.” He takes slow steps towards you, head slightly angled to the side, and your hands fidget together as he gives you a slow appraisal. “And I’m here to tell you that it’s without merit.” He stops mere centimeters away, and you breathe in the scent of his signature cologne as you lean against the marbled counter. “That room full of, as you would say, snobby, elitist assholes—”

“—oh, I would never.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a ghost of a smile.

“—could never dream of holding a candle up to you and all that you’ve accomplished in your life.”

“That’s the thing, Zayne, I haven’t accomplished anything.” You stress. “All I’ve done is—”

“Save countless lives by exterminating Wanderers - likely far more than I have in all of my career.” Cold hands move to cup your cheeks. “I admire you deeply, truly. I’ll never know what I did to deserve someone as compassionate, brave, strong, smart, and as beautiful as you, but I’m eternally grateful.” His voice is low as he speaks, and you don’t miss the tinge of pink creeping into his ears and crawling up his neck.

Warmth blooms in your chest as he holds your gaze, and it quickly spreads throughout your whole body when cool lips press against your own. Your lids flutter shut as you arch into him, one of his hands flattening in the dip of your back to keep you pressed against him.

The kiss is much too frenzied for this public bathroom, and it seems that Zayne comes to the same conclusion as he reluctantly pulls away, but not before giving you another long, more chaste kiss.

The two of you part with a suctioned noise, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as the both of you struggle to catch your breath.

“Y’know,” you begin, “you’re awfully good at making me feel better.” An uncharacteristic glint sparkles in his eye, and you gasp when he tugs you even closer with a firm grip, his eyes locked onto yours as he lowers his voice.

“I assure you that this is nothing - just wait until I get you home.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Face Your Fears

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You get into a fight with your brothers, but your recklessness that follows creates problems for everyone.

“You were hunting before you were my age! I don’t get why—“

“It doesn’t matter if you get it or not! I said no!”

Sam rushed to the library when he heard his siblings’ voices raised in argument.

“What’s going on in here?” He asked, trying to keep a calm and neutral tone.

“She—“ Dean started, but you cut him off.

“Dean is being completely unfair!”

“Ok, ok, calm down,” Sam sighed.

“Calm down?! You two are off all the time, actually helping people, putting your lives on the line, and I’m—“

“Exactly! You don’t need to be putting yourself in danger like that!” Dean interrupted.

“It’s what you do! And I sit here and read books!”

“Don’t downplay what you do,” Sam said. “We need you here.”

“But I could do so much more out there with you!” You argued. “I’ve been training, I know I can help!”

“Yeah, or you’d screw it up and get killed, and I don’t need your blood on my hands!” Dean exploded.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Dean—“ Sam tried to speak up, but you interrupted him.

“So that’s it, really? You think I’m some kind of screw up?” You scoffed, and continued before Dean could speak. “It’s not like you’re perfect! You’ve screwed up the world before, and no one’s stopped you from going out to screw it up again!”

“Y/N—“ again Sam’s attempt to calm the situation was met with resistance.

“Well fine then, if I’m too much of a screw up for you, then I’ll get out of your way!” You shoved past your brothers and beelined for your room, slamming the door behind you.

…

Your brothers didn’t try to go after you. They were probably angry. You knew you went too far with what you said to Dean, but he called you a screw up; were you just supposed to take that and not say anything back?

It didn’t matter either way. You didn’t want them to try to talk to you, because you had something to do.

You had a hunt to go on.

You’d been researching one before you went to ask Dean about joining the next one; since he’d said no, you would take this one whether he liked it or not. And you were going alone.

…

It wasn’t hard to sneak out—back when you lived in motels, it would have been almost impossible to leave without one of your brothers waking up, but with the bunker it was easy.

You didn’t take the Impala—that would be too far, even for this rebellious streak. Instead, you took a cab to the next town over; you had struck gold, finding a hunt so close. It was pretty simple, too; three victims with hearts ripped out, definitely a werewolf. You had more silver bullets than you’d need packed up with a couple of guns in a duffel at your feet.

Dean was wrong about you, you could do this. After all, how hard could one little werewolf be?

…

Dean was right, and you were suffering the consequences of being wrong.

You struggled to pull your phone from your pocket, your fingers fumbling as your phone slipped around in your blood-soaked hands. Your breathing was labored, and every breath brought stabs of pain to your slashed-up abdomen.

You hadn’t noticed the signs of the second werewolf, so determined were you on taking the first one down. You hadn’t even seen him until he’d been right on you, ripping into your stomach. You’d had your gun in your hand, and by some miracle you’d managed to fire off a round into the werewolf on top of you, but not before he’d injured you pretty bad.

You finally got the phone in your hand, and you didn’t hesitate to press Dean’s number. You held the phone just slightly away from your face, wary of irritation the cuts on your cheek.

The phone barely had time to ring before Dean’s voice flooded your senses.

“Where are you?” His voice came out in a growl.

“D-De…” you hadn’t realized you were crying until you had to push your voice out past your tears.

“Sweetheart?” Dean’s anger was gone in a second when he heard your pained voice. “What’s going on?”

“I’m-I’m sorry, De,” you sobbed. “You were right, I’m-I’m sorry.”

“Shh shh, hey,” Dean soothed. “It’s alright sweetheart, I forgive you. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

“I-I turned on my phone’s location,” you said. “Ple-please hurry. It hurts…”

Dean tried to ask you more, but a bang from somewhere nearby had you flinching, and the phone slipped out of your soaked hands and shattered on the concrete floor. You realized it was only your own gun, slipping off the table you’d laid it on. But it was too late; your phone was broken, and you had no way to call Dean back.

You could only hope that the tracker would still work.

…

Dean broke both the law and probably some speed records getting to your location. Sam was in the passenger seat, a first aid kit in his lap as he held on for dear life.

“I should’ve known she’d do something stupid,” Dean grunted.

“Dean, you couldn’t have known,” Sam reasoned. “And blaming yourself isn’t going to help her.”

Dean didn’t speak, and the rest of the ride was tensely silent.

“Here,” Sam said as navigator. “Turn left here, and she should be close by.”

Dean swerved the Impala to the left and screeched to a halt in an empty parking lot near a warehouse. Sam was right at his heels as he burst into the warehouse.

“De?” Your pained voice echoed throughout the building, so that it took Dean a moment to find you. When he did, he swore his heart skipped three beats. You were sitting in a pool of your own blood, propped up against the wall. Dean rushed to you, kneeling next to you and almost slipping in your blood.

“Hey, hey,” his voice was a mixture of soothing and panic as he brushed your blood-stained hair away from your face. “Alright sweetheart, tell Doctor Dean where it hurts.”

It was a pathetic joke, but you laughed anyway; Dean’s jokes always made you laugh.

But your laugh sent you to a fit of coughing. Dean winced as he examined the long gashes on your stomach.

“Ok, you’re ok,” Dean leaned back in relief when he saw that it wasn’t too deep; you’d be ok. “But I’m gonna have to carry you to the car, ok? Brace yourself.”

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, but you still couldn’t hold back the cry of pain when Dean lifted you into his arms.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean cringed. “I’m sorry. You’re gonna be ok.”

Dean laid you on your back in the backseat of the Impala, before taking the first aid kit from Sam and retrieving a needle and thread.

“Can’t we just bandage it up?” You whimpered, already squirming away from the needle. Dean’s finger froze for a second before he shook his head, his features softening. Both brothers were very aware of your fear of needles, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

“Sorry sweetheart, it’s gotta be stitched. Just close your eyes, it’ll feel worse if you watch.”

You closed your eyes, trusting your brother completely. However, before he could make the first stitch, your eyes popped open and you grabbed into his wrist.

“Wait,” you said. “I-I…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Dean sighed. “I’m sorry too. I said some things that…that I didn’t mean. You aren’t a screw up, ok?”

“What do you call this?” You gestured to your own banged up body.

“Inexperience,” Dean answered. “And you never should’ve been out here alone. Going solo on your first hunt is never a good idea.”

“I’m sorry about that, too,” you mumbled.

“It’s ok, kiddo. Maybe later we…we can talk about you tagging along on one of our hunts.”

“Really?” You grinned.

“Later,” Dean said sternly. “After you’re all better. Now let me get to this.”

As Dean lifted the needle, you closed your eyes again. You felt Sam’s large hand grab onto yours, and you squeezed his hand gratefully, holding on as Dean started to stitch you up.

“I didn’t really think you would screw up the hunts,” Dean said as he worked. “I just…I don’t want you out there. It’s dangerous, and I…I’m scared something will happen to you. But I guess I can’t keep you from it if it’s what you really want.”

“It is,” you said. “I want to do what you guys do. I want to help people, and I wanna be with you guys.”

“Ok then,” Dean said, tying off the stitches and patting your side to let you know he was done. You opened your eyes, and he smiled at you.

“I guess I’ll just have to face my fears.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[cy-cyborg]

We have communities - Writing disability quick tips

So often, stories centred on disabled characters, especially in modern settings, emphasise how lonely or isolated the character is because of their disability, especially if it’s a newly acquired disability or one that non-disabled people assume would have a big impact on our ability to do “fun stuff”. This will often be accompanied by statements of “no-one understands what living with [insert disability here]” is like!

And while isolation and loneliness are things a lot of disabled people deal with, a lot of us are not completely alone either, especially in the modern day.

Just like any group of people with shared experiences, we find one another. Sometimes this is through formal systems; some spinal rehabilitation centres for example, will pair newly paralysed people up with a mentor who’s had a similar form of paralysis for much longer to help guide the person while the adjust to their new disability. Other more formal systems can look like disability sporting organisations - the one I used to work for used to specifically encourage very newly disabled people to join so they didn’t feel like the had to learn everything about their disability alone, or support groups.

Other times though, these communities are much less formal. They may look like online forums, such as the ones on Reddit, built by and for disabled people to talk about their experiences and seek recommendations from others in the same boat, or parts of larger social media sites. For example, on Tumblr, there aren’t really any formal groups, but thanks to the hashtags we use in our posts, we often find one another fairly quickly there. We sometimes also carve out our own little subsections of fandom or hobby spaces, brought together by the shared interest itself, how things like disability might impact the way you interpret or interact with it, and how we can modify it (in the case of hobbies) to make it work for us.

A lot of disability communities, formal or otherwise, also form out of necessity, such as advocacy groups run by and for disabled people, and those built around ensuring the rights of disabled people are protected.

Isolation and loneliness are problems within the disabled community that many of us deal with, but this tends to be more in the context of isolation from the wider public, exclusion from public spaces and events (despite there being laws that are supposed to stop this because they’re often not enforced), disconnect from non-disabled friends and family, etc, most of which are the result of systematic issues or the lack of understanding or care and support from non-disabled people in our lives. Not always, but often.

The communities made by and for disabled people though are often (at least in part) made to help make up for this, and they’re more common than you might think, you just have to know where to look. It would be nice to see more creators reflecting this in their work a bit more often, or at least acknowledging that they are there, even if your character chooses not to engage with them.

However, as a reminder to authors and creatives: These communities, especially the online ones, are for disabled people, they are not there for you to use as a reference as a creator. Some communities are ok with you being there to learn, so long as you listen and don’t try to speak over/bombard their members with questions. Others are not. The ones that are, typically will have something written somewhere if it’s online (e.g. subreddits that accept writers wanting to write disabled characters will often have it written in the “about” section or the rules). There are also dedicated groups and platforms for non-disabled people seeking to learn more about us and our communities, which can be excellent resources for creatives like writers. Just remember to be mindful of where you are and respectful of people’s spaces and boundaries when doing your research.

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable: Letters (Steddie X You)

A/N: I give you treat my dear friends. A glimpse into inmate Steddie. I'm going to write a full story but for some reason the idea of them writing back and forth burned into my brain. Think of this as a prequel so to speak.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, Everything is in letter format. Mentions of smut, some dirty talk, angst (because I'm me), both men were convicted even though they are innocent, near the end we get some glimpses of toxic behavior, Jealous Steddie <3, cliffhanger esc ending.

Word Count: 2918

"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)

July 1996

Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington, 

I know you don’t know me but my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m a student here at Hawkins University. I’m supposed to be doing a project for my criminal justice class and with your permission I’d like to do it on you. 

I’m working towards getting my law degree and so many kids in my class are doing theirs on people like Bundy or Gacy. How does that help teach them? I’ve done research on your case and I feel like you both are innocent. Add in the fact that the judge wanted to make “an example” out of you two… it’s ridiculous. 

Neither of you had a prior history of violence and Mr. Harrington, your parents are prominent members of Hawkins! UGH! I just don’t get it. 

Sorry. I went off on a bit of a tangent there… I just hate how you both were treated. 

If you don’t want me to utilize your case for my class I’ll completely understand. If you don’t respond I’ll take that as a no as well. 

Thank you,

--Y/N.

################

July 1996,

Sweetheart,

You have no idea how good it made us feel to have someone reach out to us, let alone agree that we are innocent. Society forgot about us a while ago but thankfully Steve and I have each other. 

And now you we hope : ). 

We have no problem with you doing your project on our case. What do you need from us? Details I imagine but what else? Are we allowed to know more about you? We know your name is Y/N, you’re a law student, and judging by the intoxicating scent that wafted when we opened your letter you smell really fucking good. 

Please feel free to be open with us.  We’re nice guys we swear.

-Eddie

Y/N,

I hope Eddie didn’t come off too strong with his letter. I told him we need to be respectful but like he said people kind of forgot about us. It’s nice to feel appreciated. 

We have no problem with you using us on your project and you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to. I understand that talking to someone in our circumstances can be a bit scary especially for a young lady like you. 

Are you only going to be speaking with us or do you need to talk to our families to? My parents gave up on me after I was found guilty so they probably won’t be much help. Eddie’s uncle Wayne Munson is a nice guy. You can tell him we sent you and he’ll answer your questions. We also have some friends people who were around the time we were arrested who can help to. 

We look forward to hearing from you, 

-Steve

P.S. You can call us Steve and Eddie. We already feel old enough : )

####################

July 1996

Eddie & Steve, 

Thank you so much! You have no idea how important this is to me. I don’t just want to do this for my class but I’d like to use this case for my graduation project as well. But we don’t have to think about that now. I barely like to think that far ahead so I use the excuse of that is two years away. 

Eddie didn’t come on too strong : ).

I AM a law student and a sophomore at Hawkins U. I’ll be 21 in a few months so I can finally move up to being a bartender at the restaurant I work at. College is expensive but soon it will be worth it. I’m attaching a picture with the letter just so you have an image of who you’re talking to. 

Growing up I heard all about you two. Hawkins High used to have your Hellfire Club, Eddie, but they disbanded it a couple of years before I graduated. The parents said they didn’t think it was right for their kids to belong to a club created by someone such as yourself. Since Dustin Henderson wasn’t there to advocate for you guys anymore…

I don’t have to reach out or talk to anyone you don’t want me to. I know most of the people involved in your case aren’t even in Hawkins anymore. 

I’m so sorry. It must be hard having everyone you know disappear. 

My parents aren’t exactly fans of my chosen profession. My mom hates lawyers since her divorce lawyer wasn’t able to get her more alimony from my father and my dad is cop so enough said hahaha!

I’ve been with my boyfriend for a few months. He’s a film major and keeps begging me to allow him to do an interview with you two. I keep telling him no. You’re people not circus animals. 

Let’s start with you two telling me whatever makes you comfortable in regard to your case!

-Y/N

####################

December 1996,

Sweetheart,

Merry Christmas! 

Did Wayne give you the presents we bought you? My uncle said it’s important for college girls especially soon to be lawyers to have tape recorders. I’d love to hear if you liked it and if you can use it in your classes. 

It’s been a couple of days since you called. I hope everything is alright. We miss the sound of your voice…

Y/N, I know I can come off a bit forward but I hope I didn’t scare you away by talking to you the way I did during our last conversation. I can’t help it, you know? You’re just so gorgeous and you’ve been so good to us that my brain promptly goes into flirtation mode. 

Anyway, yeah, I want to hear how your Christmas went and if Derek’s family was good to you.

-Eddie

Honey, 

Merry Christmas! 

Ed forgot to mention that we did get your gifts and are incredibly thankful for the books. Since I was arrested I’ve opened my mind when it comes to reading and Munson’s fantasy books at least take me away mentally to a different world. 

He’s right by the way… you are incredibly beautiful. 

Would you be open to seeing us in person? 

Just a nice friendly visit where we can talk about your project and get to know you more. 

If not we completely understand.

-Steve

##########################

February 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

I’m sorry I haven’t come by or answered the phone. After our last visit, I just…

I love Derek but I care about you both so much. When you kissed me We have to keep this professional. Not just because of my boyfriend but because I’m studying to be a lawyer. How would it look if I fell in love started a relationship with inmates I’m working with?

Please understand.

-Y/N

#######################

February 1997

Sweetheart,

We understand but you have to also understand that we’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so kind and beautiful. You listen to what we have to say and actually care about us. I can still feel your lips against mine and nothing in my life has ever tasted as sweet. 

Can you still feel me, princess?

For the first time in almost 11 years, I actually have some hope. 

Does he make you feel like we do, honey? Your heavy breath against my mouth when I kissed you tells me no. I know we’re trapped here for the next 14 years but, baby, we can still take care of you. We just have to be a bit imaginative with certain things but….

No one has to know, baby, not even Derek. 

-Steve & Eddie

#######################

February 1997

Baby, 

Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea how hearing you touch yourself over the phone got us going. If we could have private phones we would have stroked our cocks for you so you could hear how much you turn us on.

I can still hear your heavy pants in my ear while you fucked your fingers. 

I’m playing with myself right now at the thought of how tight that young little pussy is. Fuck… picturing those sexy hips slam against me as you ride my dick. Do you like it rough or nice and slow? Delicate, just like you, pretty girl. 

Shit. I just came so hard. 

Would you let Steve and I fill you up? Make you really ours?

I wish we could fall asleep with you between us. I’d give anything to hold you in my arms and play with your hair. 

Can’t wait to see you again, princess. 

-Eddie.

############################

April 1997

Honey, 

How did your test go for your class? I’m sorry we weren’t more helpful but I’m glad you brought your stuff to show us what you’ve been working on. It makes us so happy to see you working so hard and achieving your dreams. You deserve all the good things in this world. 

I’ve been thinking about you since we last saw you. Aren’t you glad now you wore that sexy skirt?

God, I can still smell you on my fingers. I loved feeling you cling to my arm as I thrust them into your tight little cunt. We have to work on silencing those moans a bit more : ).

I keep having dreams about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock just looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes while I fuck your throat. 

Do you think about us? Tell us all your fantasies, baby. 

We love you. 

-Steve

#######################

April 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

You are such bad boys, you know that? I like it though…

Sometimes when I’m writing to you, Derek will walk by and I feel naughty but giddy. I’m doing something I definitely shouldn’t be doing. When we have sex, I don’t see him anymore. 

I just see you two. 

I wish I could take care of you the way you do me. I want to feel you both inside of me, stretching me open. I want to choke on Steve’s cock and ride Eddie till I can’t walk. I want to feel you both cum inside me and make me yours. 

I love you to…so much… 

I hate to ask this after everything but Derek would like to film you guys for his project. I’ll be there to so you won’t be alone with him and I can use the footage when I start working on my graduation project later down the line. 

After everything, if you don’t want to I completely understand. 

I’ll call you both tomorrow. 

-Y/N

##########################

May 1997

Please, 

I’m so sorry! The prison said you aren’t allow visits for the next month after what happened and you aren’t taking my calls. 

I didn’t know those were the questions he was going to ask you, I swear. 

After the stupid bullshit he pulled, I broke up with him and kicked him out of our apartment. 

I know you both are innocent and I don’t feel the same way he does. 

I love you so much. 

-Y/N

################

May 1997,

Don’t break up with him. He’s right. We’re fucking criminals and—

Y/N,

Eddie is still upset but we do believe that you didn’t know he was going to blind side us. We just needed some time to compose ourselves. The questions Derek asked about those kids, Nancy, and then seeing him kissing you when we walked in just fucking… It was too much. 

Add in the fact that he made some points, you know?

By the time, we get out of here we’ll be in our late 40’s essentially starting over. It’s going to be so hard for us to get a job and other things like a house or a car. People will always look down on us for something we didn’t do but they believe we did. 

You’re going to be this badass attorney with men your age groveling at your high heeled feet to give you the world. 

We’re scared about dragging you down with us. You deserve the world, baby girl.

Just give us a bit more time, ok? During this time, I want you to think about if being with us is the life you really want. Really think about it, Y/N. 

We love you to… no matter what.

--Steve & Eddie

###########################

August 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

I’m sitting in my first class this semester and I am already exhausted. I started my new job at The Hideout and I left at like 3am. I got some good tips though so that will help with tuition. I can also send you guys anything if you need something. 

I heard your appeal was denied again. 

I’m so sorry.

With cases like yours, it’s so hard to get those pushed through and approved. 

I’m thinking about you two every minute. When I crashed, I kept wishing I had your arms around me. 

I’ll call you tonight before my shift. 

I love you!

-Y/N

########################

August 1997, 

Baby, 

Yeah, we’re kind of over it now. After so many denials, you just kind of give up trying. It was like that with my dad and his case. Then again he was just a repeat offender and I’m a murderer so.

You didn’t tell us you were working at The Hideout. I used to play my guitar there with my band when I thought I would be a rockstar. I’m not gonna be anything now.

I’m sorry, sweetheart. I guess we’re just a bit low right now. 

I wish we could be there with you to. I want to fall asleep to your voice talking to me about everything. I could listen to you talk for hours, babe. 

Don’t overwork yourself. 

Love you,

--Eddie 

Honey, 

You never have to worry about sending us anything in here. We make enough money and then Wayne gives Eddie some to get by. 

My mom was there at our appeal. It was nice seeing her face again after all this time even though she didn’t talk to me or stick around to meet with me at the prison. 

I imagine my father didn’t know she was there. 

I agree with Munson, don’t over work yourself. 

We miss you. 

--Steve

######################

October 1997,

Y/N, 

We didn’t mean to scare you, baby, when you came to visit. We just… you were supposed to come visit us last week and you didn’t. You don’t answer when we call. 

We get worried. 

Please, sweetheart, answer the phone so we can talk. 

We love you, pretty girl. 

--Eddie

#######################

October 1997,

FUCK YOU! 

You don’t get to treat me the way you did when I took time out of my day to come to see you! Steve, you have no right shouting at me and degrading me in front of all your cell block friends. Eddie, you don’t get to grab my wrist and command that I “Lower my voice” when you both are sitting there talking down to me. 

The three of us know you weren’t worried about me but fucking jealous I’ve been brushing you off for someone else! 

I have shown you both nothing but respect and opened my heart to you from day one!

I’m sorry your both in the situation you are in. I genuinely am but I have given you no reason to think I’d ever hurt you by fucking cheating on you. 

I wouldn’t put my career and heart on the line like I have just to fucking throw it away that way. 

--Y/N

######################

October 1997

Little girl, 

I know you get off on being a bad girl but we swear to God, Y/N. You don’t get to talk to us the way you did during our visit. We understand that you have a busy life but that doesn’t give you the right to not show up or not answer the phone when you say you will. 

We may be convicts but we still have feelings. 

Telling us to “fuck off” or saying that bratty shit you said like “I’m sorry I’m busy” is not ok. 

Respect is earned. 

Let’s also not forget, Y/N, that you cheated on your boyfriend with us. It’s not farfetched for us to think you may spread your legs for more tips at the bar you work at. 

Don’t play this game with us, princess. You won’t win. 

Eddie & Steve

#########################

October 1997

Edward Munson & Steven Harrington, 

I always win and I have more self-respect than you both seem to think I do. 

We’re done. 

--Y/N

#########################

October 1997

Ed and Stev, 

I hate you sooooooo much. I fell in love wit you and did things with u I’ve never done with ANYONE! Except fucking obviously : ). I never did get to feel those “big cocks” streting tearing me open. Why is that? Oh yeah…because youre in jail!

I was willing to wait bcause I loved you. I didn’t care if you’d be 40 someting when you got out. You will NEVER find someone like me again. 

I’ll move on though. Always do.

Hey check out this cute boy I met. I took a picture of him sucking my neck. I’m not drunk enough to send a video but you can use your imagination. 

You’re good at that especially when u r imagining me cheating on you with men like him. 

Assholes…

--Y/N

######################

October 30th, 1997

Trick or treat, little girl.

See you tonight. 

--Steve & Eddie

##########

Donate to me

@nailbatanddungeon @dashingdeb16 @hardladyheart @thwippyparker @micheledawn1975 @utterlyinsanity

[hurtspideyparker]

Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

[blues824]

I have read a lot of your scenario works, and I wanna know: How would the TWST Overblot react to a reader who has a service animal for something like Anxiety? Am curious on who sees the service animal as a good boi/girl lol

Gender-neutral reader who has anxiety and animal.

Riddle Rosehearts

He knows about service animals, and he knows about medical benefits that they can bring to a person

When he sees that you have a service animal, he knows not to touch it or speak to it without permission

That being said, the first time he saw your animal without you accompanying it, his mind leapt to the worst conclusion

He quickly followed to see you having a panic attack, and your animal had you lay down flat against the floor so that it could lie on top of you

Riddle quickly went to your side and started leading you in breathing exercises while taking your hand in his to help ground you.

When you had recovered a bit, Riddle was relieved that your animal was trained so well to handle your panic attacks

Leona Kingscholar

He definitely does not like that little mutt being so close to you, especially whenever you come over to Savanaclaw

Now, he has met people who require or have service animals, and he knows that he’s not supposed to touch them or speak to him, and it’s not even like he wants to in the first place

However, when your animal jumped through the mirror and ran towards him without you, he knew something was wrong

He ran after the canine, praying to whatever being was listening up in the heavens that you were alright, when he saw you curled up in the fetal position and hyperventilating

Your animal made you lay down flat and just plopped itself right on top of you, placing its head on the valley of your chest

Leona did not know what to do, so he kind of just sat next to you until you calmed down. You bet he took you to the infirmary once you recovered, though

Azul Ashengrotto

The entire trio had to take a few courses in order to open up the Mostro Lounge, and service animals were allowed in the establishment

There weren’t too many students who needed or had a service animal, so you will have to excuse the questions he has about the animal

Now, during one shift, your animal burst into his office and started tugging at his pant leg, and from what you had told him, his mind assumed the worst

He ran faster than he had ever run before just to get to Ramshackle and to see you hyperventilating and crying

Your canine companion went up to you and leaned against you so that you could cling to them, but when you saw that Azul sat next to you, you clung to him instead

It took a few moments to calm down, but when you did Azul did not think anything different of you. He has had a few panic attacks himself

Jamil Viper

He actually doesn’t know a lot about service animals, mainly because he has grown up around the Asim family and no one has a service animal in that household

But, he feels as though it’s rude to ask about it, so he does his own research at the library in his limited free time

That is how he knew to follow your animal when it showed up unaccompanied and seemingly worried

You were in the corner of the Ramshackle living room, curled up in a ball and crying while breathing rapidly

Jamil, being concerned, knelt down to your level and tried to get you to snap out of it and calm down by grabbing you by your shoulders and talking to you

When you were alright, he asked what happened and will then try and keep you away from what caused the attack to begin with

Vil Schoenheit

He knows a few things about service animals, as he has had co-stars who have one on-set for their stage-fright

When he sees that you have one, he is a bit curious as to why you have one, so he will politely ask questions about your animal

There was one day where he was in his room, making something for Epel to wear, when your animal opened the door and started tugging his dorm robe in a certain direction

Because he didn’t see you anywhere, he followed with haste to find you in your dormitory, holding your head in your hands and rocking back and forth

Vil was worried, kneeling down and taking your hand in his. Your animal had a similar idea as it went between your legs and laid its head on your stomach, looking up at you

Once you had recovered, Vil was angrily demanding the names of who set you off in such a frenzy

Idia Shroud

Bro knows nothing about service animals except for the fact that he is not supposed to touch or pet them without permission

When he discovers that you have one, he panics because he might have been offensive to you in your online calls with each other

He might benefit from a service animal with the way he is having a panic attack while you are trying to calm him down

One fateful day, your service animal came to him in a panic without you, and from what he learned on the internet, you could be in trouble, so he ran

You were in Ramshackle, in the living room, in the corner, crying and curled up into a ball like a roly poly

Idia had no idea what to do, opting to slap you to make you snap out of it. There must have been magic in that slap because it did get you to calm down a bit

Malleus Draconia

Also does not know about service animals, as no one in the palace ever required one, so pardon his curiosity

He asks questions to make sure that he doesn’t do anything to trigger your anxiety and so he is prepared for if your animal is trying to tell him something

That is how he knew to follow your animal when they came up to him in a hurry without you accompanying them

Come to find you in Ramshackle, curled up in the corner and hyperventilating while tears were streaming down your face

Malleus knelt down and pulled you into his chest while leading you in breathing exercises, using a calm tone

After a few moments, you were only sniffling and the panic attack was over, and Malleus felt as though he had aged 150 years

[vaultdwellerbarbie]

Juno

javier 'javi' rivera/f!reader (5.2k wc)

summary it really didn't take yourself and javi very long to fall in love. or to decide to get married... or to decide that you wanted children. nothing wrong with doing things a little unconventionally.

content warnings smut, unsafe sex (w/ the intention to get pregnant), slight breeding kink i guess, vaginal fingering, oral sex

she has risen babygirl!!!!!! i'm like kinda half asleep as i'm posting this so i'm so sorry about that but i hope you enjoy this! yes, it's just as horny as the song. please listen to the song juno by sabrina carpenter.

At some point, a point that felt like an eternity ago at this point, going to Oklahoma was just supposed to be a small trip. Your friend Kate had let you know that she was going back to the place where she was raised on a whim, and you offered to go with her because you were working on a work project that would probably look a lot better if you actually knew what a tornado looked like in person, rather than just having researched them. 

Kate had been apprehensive about the whole thing. She was dealing with a lot of unresolved trauma, she didn’t want to drag you into something like that. Plus, she knew that it could be a lot seeing a tornado for the first time, and she also knew that you really weren’t well versed in how to survive one. Sure, you’d researched them and you were interested in them, but no amount of research could give you that real world experience that someone who had experienced one had. She didn’t want you to be in danger. You, however, argued that you needing that real world experience was exactly why your work project was going to fail if you didn’t go with her. 

Ultimately, your argument that you’d just find another way to experience one even if she wasn’t there was what made her decide that she would ask her friend Javi if it was okay. Now, you knew of Javi. You’d never met him, and you knew Kate wasn’t speaking to him because of what all of them had been through. Still, she’d shown you minimal pictures and videos of him, and you’d always found him attractive even though you kept that fact to yourself. 

When he agreed, you both took the week to go to Oklahoma, and it was supposed to be just that: One week.

Technically, it was. 

But, in another sense, it was the beginning of a lot more than one week once you realized that you were absolutely miserable back home. 

There were a lot of factors in your decision to move to Oklahoma, and it wasn’t as though you just left everything behind and did it on a whim.

The first factor was just how much easier it felt to exist there, without the constant hustle and bustle. You didn’t feel like you were in as much of a continuous competition when you were there, especially since you had made quick friends with the people who you were surrounded by. It was nice to not feel like there was always someone there, waiting to one-up you and take away the promotion or praise that you were looking for. But, you also found that you weren’t just looking for praise. You were having genuine fun, and that was something that you hadn’t really had in a long time. 

The second factor, and the most important one really, was Javi. As much as you wanted to discuss the non-male reasons why you wanted to change your entire life around - such as the fact that Kate didn’t want to go back to New York, and the fact that she was seemingly starting something new that you would love to be a part of - it was difficult for you when you found being around him so easy. 

He was more attractive in person than he was in pictures, and you were pretty sure that was because you could actually see his freckles which was nice. But he was also nice to you. When he teased you, it was just him referring to you being from the North, or him making some comment about how scared you were about the tornado, or him just kind of acting very familiar with you. Certainly, he was acting the way that he was because he wanted you to feel more comfortable with him, and you did feel comfortable with him. More comfortable with him than you probably should have.

There was no debating that you fell hard and fast, but you still had a commitment to go back home. So even though you got attached, even though you gave him the tightest hug of your life when you both survived that massive tornado, even though you almost kissed him at the airport, and even though you promised to call him when you landed safely - you still went back even though you didn’t want to.

By the end of the week, you’d FaceTimed him at least as much as you did Kate, and by the second week, you wanted nothing more than to see him in person again. Truly, nothing seemed to matter more to you than being able to see Javi again, even though you had absolutely no idea when you were going to be able to do that.

It would be about two months before you finally had it in you (and had it in your bank account) to take Kate’s offer and stay at her farmhouse (really, it was her mom’s offer, but Kate was more than willing) until you found a place to stay. And, even if you didn’t find a place to stay, Kate’s mom seemed certain that something was going to come up (as it would so happen, both of them seemed intent on discussing your friendship with Javi and how it really didn’t seem like much of a friendship at all since you were both clearly enamored with each other). 

The plan was simple, you surprised Javi when you got back. Kate and her mom picked you up, helped you settle, and the next day you exacted the plan. You claimed that you needed to send something to Javi in the mail, so you asked for his address. Happily, he provided the address. The next day, to add to the convoluted plan, you took an Uber to his address because you didn’t want him to recognize a familiar car. Of course, there were a few flaws. 

You didn’t know if he was home, you didn’t want to freak him out, and you had to be dropped off at the end of the street because you didn’t want to startle him. Startling him really wasn’t something that you should have been worried about, because he lived in an apartment building it would seem (a much nicer one than the one that you could afford back in New York, but that didn’t surprise you). But, you still didn’t know if he was home, and you still didn’t want to freak him out. So, you were as gentle as you could when you knocked on the door, and you had confirmation that he was home from the way that his - clearly tired - voice shouted that he was on the way. 

When you saw Javi, you really realized that you should have considered coming later in the day. Whether it was because he was in his pajamas, because he had adorable bedhead, or because the first words out of his mouth happened to be ‘I thought you were DoorDash’ - you definitely should have remembered that Javi wasn’t a morning person.

Regardless, the moment he actually figured out that you were standing in front of him he pulled you inside, and you pulled him into a hug, and you spent the rest of the day… well, making out, mainly. 

Five months later, you’re both spending most of your time doing research. Storm season had calmed down, so you had some time in between to assess what it was that you were all going to be doing when it started up again. Since Javi was no longer working with Storm Par, and yourself, him, and Kate had begun working hand-in-hand with The Wranglers, things were going to be a bit different. The three of you were going to be added to a pre-existing team, you were going to be on camera, and Kate was going to be running her experiments to figure out if what she had done that day in El Reno had actually worked, or if it was the combination of the fire and the distance and every little other thing that had made that event so unique. 

But when you’re not doing that, you’re mainly with Javi. You don’t live with him, you’re still living with Kate and her mom, but you’re with Javi more than you’re with anyone else. You spend most nights at his house, or he comes over for dinner with Kate and her mom, or you both go out somewhere. There are rare instances in which you’re not with Javi, and despite the constant stream of time that you spend together, you just can’t get enough of each other. It’s almost suffocating when you’re not with Javi, and he seems to feel the same way. 

At least, you were pretty sure he did judging by the amount of texts that he had sent to you while you were on the way to his apartment this afternoon. 

The moment your shoes were set into the shoe rack, he was locking the door and pressing his lips against yours. Your fingers found his hair, kissing him just as intently. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours, especially since it had been probably almost twenty-four entire hours since you had last kissed him. He tugged you closer by the hips, your hand that wasn’t in his hair moving to rest on his warm cheek. 

Pulling away, your eyes were locked on his, moving down to look at those freckles that always made your stomach feel like it was in knots. The thing was, you just thought they were cute at first, but then you started wondering if his genes would really shine through and give a baby matching freckles, and then all you could really think about what how you would absolutely forget everything about working and settle down in the countryside with him and some freckled children. But… why were you thinking about that? 

“I missed you.” You complained, a smile tugging at his lips as he pressed another chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“I missed you too, I told you to spend the night.” He had told you to spend the night, but you simply didn’t have that option because yesterday was your laundry day and at least half of your laundry was at the place that you were actually, technically, living and not with Javi. Plus, you hated his dryer. 

“Get a new dryer, and I won’t have to burden myself with leaving you.” 

He hummed in response, moving away from you so he could move over to the couch - after all, he did invite you over to watch a movie. But, Javi took note of the way that you kept an arm securely around him, your head resting on his shoulder. You were always affectionate with each other, but tonight you just couldn’t shake the feeling that you wanted nothing other than Javi. 

“You okay, baby?” He didn’t seem to really mind, though. His hand moved down to capture yours, sitting down with you and instantly opening his stance so you could cuddle up to him before he put a blanket over you. 

“I’m good.” You replied, though the fact that you were halfway to sitting on him with your face resting just beside his was probably indication that you were not, in fact, good. 

“You know, you’re free to stay here as long as you like.”

“I know that.”

“And you also know that I never get tired of you, right?” He replied, tilting your chin up so you were looking him in the eyes.

“Pretty sure that’s why everyone gets so annoyed with us.” Everyone did get rather annoyed with you both once in a while since you could get a little bit overly affectionate, but you had been working on toning that down. “But I know that, and you know I never get tired of you, either.” 

Javi’s lips brushed against yours, his movements much more gentle than they had been earlier in the day. Something about the way that he kissed you, the way that he took his time to show you with his actions just how much he cared about you, made you feel like you were almost in a daze when he broke it. Javi didn’t go far, though, his forehead resting against yours as he looked at you. 

“You should move in with me,” He started, watching your eyes widen slightly and rubbing his thumb along your jawline. “You spend most of your time here, we both hate being apart. You should just be here.”

“I’ve gotta tell you, Kate and her mom have been holding bets about how long it’s going to take for me to move in with you since I mentioned wanting to come to Oklahoma.” You replied, a smile covering your lips as you looked into his eyes. There was a softness in them, a love that you were certain that you could never get from anyone else. But you didn’t want it from anyone else, you only wanted Javi. “I’d love to move in with you.” 

“Which one of them won?”

“I think Kate’s mom had under six months as her bet.” 

Javi’s smile widened before he kissed you again, and somehow, you tried to press closer to him even though you were certain that it wasn’t possible to get any closer to him than you already were. But there was still that feeling in your gut that you just… you weren’t sure. You wanted him closer, you wanted him to never not be close, and you weren’t sure how you had become to attached to another person but you were certain that it was an attachment that was reciprocated by the man who was pressing his hand on the small of your back to keep your body pressed firmly against his. 

“I love you so much, Javi.” You finally mumbled as you pulled away, his lips chasing yours for just a moment before he accepted the distance.

“I love you too, baby, so, so much.” 

Javi brought you back into a kiss, following your lead as you moved to lay against the couch. He moved his arms so he was caging you in underneath him, his lips not parting from yours for a second as he kept you close to him. Technically, you were supposed to be here to watch a movie with him. But, for some reason that didn’t seem to be something that either of you were really planning on doing right now. 

“Did you just come over to make out with me?” He teased, his hand pressed against your cheek as you looked up at him. A smile was still spread across his lips, and you were certain that your face matched his expression. 

“Maybe a little.” You replied, trailing a hand over his arm. You didn’t just come over to make out with him, you came over to spend time with him. You always wanted to spend time with him, though. “We could be doing more than making out, you know.”

“At least let me cook you dinner first.”

“Javi, that could take hours.” 

“So?” 

He gave in when you started pouting at him, his lips pressed against yours again as his hand slipped under your shirt for just a moment. The feeling of his hand against you caused you to arch against him, but he quickly pulled away from you and stood up. His outstretched hand told you that he was going to bring you to the bedroom, a place that you were more than happy to accompany him to. 

The thing was, you were both always very touchy with each other. The moment that you spent more than a few hours apart, you typically had to make up for it in some way. That way typically ended up being sex, if you were being honest, but it was still just some way for you to make up for the lost time. But, you’d both been a bit more reckless with sex as of recent. When you started sleeping with each other, which funnily enough somehow wasn’t even immediately, you were incredibly careful. There was always protection, even though you were taking a pill at the time. Recently, you’d both just kind of… forgotten… a lot of things. Javi was the one that drove you to the pharmacy to get your pills, but neither of you had really been reminding the other that you should probably been doing that. The last couple of times that you’d had sex, he had pulled out, but he certainly hadn’t used a condom. 

Truthfully, you were probably both pretty conscious about what you were doing. You were just not willing to actually speak about what you were doing which was for sure not the correct way to be handling things. But, how could you talk about it? Neither of you planned on quitting your dangerous careers, and even though you were more used to office work and you honestly would be fine with doing something less strenuous for a little while since you were certain that the team needed some more behind the scenes people since you currently, truthfully, didn’t really have many - you also new that Javi was going to be at risk. Ever since what happened to him and Kate, the idea of not being in the action has been an issue for him. Were either of you comfortable with having a child under that pressure? Especially since you’d only been together for like… five months? Maybe. You weren’t sure. But talking about it would be a good thing, probably. 

His hands against you distracted you from your disastrous train of thought, allowing him to pull the shirt that you were wearing up and over your head. 

It struck you, as you looked at him, that you really didn’t want anyone other than him. You’d been on numerous failed dates, gotten to know people who ended up being into you and even tried to see if that was something that you were interested in. You were never interested in anyone more than you were interested in him, and you had certainly never remained so invested in someone for as long as you did with him. 

“What’s that look on your face?” His tone was soft, his hand delicately running along your arm.

“I just really love you, I’ve never really felt this way about anyone else.” 

His eyes were just as soft as his tone was, watching you as he pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t rushed and sloppy like the ones that you’d been having with him. He took his time, and happily accepted you wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him closer. 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, either.” His admission was incredibly quiet, but you’d heard it since his forehead was pressed against yours. Some part of you wanted to have a deeper conversation about that, and you were certain that you would as soon as you left this room, but for the time being, you really just wanted to have him as close as possible. You had all the time in the world for talking, but right now you just kind of wanted to show him just how much you loved him. 

Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, and Javi got the message and removed it. You’d always loved running your fingers along his skin, feeling him below your finger tips. One of the things that struck you about Javi was that he looked so cute, but he really did keep up his physique. You sure that had something to do with the line of work, considering the fact that he needed to be pretty in shape to be constantly outrunning tornadoes and since he had been in the military before that. 

Javi didn’t waste much time in getting you on the bed, though you did stop him so you could quickly remove your pants - it was always easier than taking them off while you were in bed with him. He didn’t object to that, and decided that he would take things a step further and remove the bra that you were wearing as well. Before you could reach for his pants, he had his lips against your neck and you at the head on the bed. 

Typically, Javi took a lot more time than he was taking right now, but he wasted very little time in removing he panties that were on your hips. His lips trailed down your body, your eyes locked on him as he moved to part your legs. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head that you just wanted him inside of you, that you didn’t want him to spend any more time not being inside of you, but that nagging feeling was pretty effectively silenced by the feeling of his tongue against your clit. 

Javi always seemed to enjoy the feeling of your hands in his hair, and he always really did take his time - he liked to tease you, to warm you up before doing anything with you, mainly he just liked to make you needy; he really seemed to enjoy it when you begged for him. But right now, it was something entirely different. Maybe it was because you had agreed to move in with him, or maybe it was because you both knew that you were going to have a long conversation about things later, but all you knew was that he was being a lot quicker than he typically would be in a situation like this. 

That’s not to say that you were complaining, because you were thoroughly enjoying the way that he had two fingers pressed inside of you, his lips wrapped around your clit and his eyes periodically glancing up at you just to make sure that you were definitely enjoying yourself. He was a giving lover, you knew that from the moment that you started doing this with him. But, right now it just seemed like his sole motivation in life was making sure that you felt pleasure. Mainly, though, you were pretty sure it was showing you how much he cared about you. 

His fingers curled a bit inside of you, pressing against spot that made eyes fingers tighten in his soft hair. He knew how to bring you to the brink just as quickly as he brought you into his room. But right now, all you could really think about was how good he was making you feel, how good he always made you feel. How it felt when he made a slight noise against you, the reverberations sending shockwaves through - a reminder of who it was, and a reminder of just what kind of noises that you were going to hear coming out of him in just a few moments.

Ultimately, it didn’t take you very for your cunt to squeeze his fingers, for your orgasm to wash over you like it always did when you were with Javi. You always felt on top of the world, partly because you were convinced that he was the most beautiful man who you had ever seen. But, also because he really did have a way of playing your body like he was a genuine professional at pleasing you specifically. 

As you came down from your high, Javi slowly crawled up the bed to you. At some point, a point in which you must have not been paying very much attention, Javi had removed the rest of the clothing that kept you from seeing him fully. He let your hands trace his warm skin, his face level with yours and his curly hair hanging slightly in front of his face. His was a sight to behold, and sometimes you weren’t so sure how you got so lucky to be with him in the first place. You really couldn’t get enough of Javi, and you were certain that he knew that. 

“Do you want me to use a condom?” His voice was gentle, he did try to ask for your permission each time he chose not to. Typically, the only times you didn’t talk about it were when you were both desperate and in a time-crunch.

“I want you to cum inside of me.” You replied, not really thinking about what you were saying until it had come out of your mouth.

Javi’s eyes widened slightly, but a smile covered his lips as he looked down at you. “Oh, I can do that.” 

Javi pushed into you rather quickly, moving his head down so he could bring you into a bruising kiss. Your body arched into his, the warmth of his chest pressed against yours made you sigh. You loved having this close, you wanted to have him this close forever. You loved the way that he felt inside of you, the way that he fucked into you like he’d never have the opportunity to do so again, even though you were both well-aware that you were going to do this over and over again for as long as you possibly could. It wasn’t like you had a shortage of sex in your relationship, but it also certainly wasn’t the only thing that you had in your relationship.

Javi followed your lead as you softened the kiss, our fingers tangling in the back of his hair to keep him close. You couldn’t help but think about how much you loved him, how much more you loved him than you’d ever loved anyone else. It was honestly slightly concerning just how much you loved him, because you weren’t sure if it was even possible before him. But you knew that he felt the same way, and a large part of you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. 

“Javi?”

“Mhm?” 

“You should keep doing it inside of me.” 

His breath stuttered for a second, but his hips didn’t. You could feel his hand squeezing your hip, the way that he seemingly started pounding into you harder than he was before. There was a slight overwhelming quality to it, but it was overwhelming in the best way possible. He felt so good, and he always hit that spot inside of you over and over again as though your bodies were made to be together. 

“I-If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want something from me.”

“Yeah, your cum.”

“Mhm. Something more, though. Something… around here?” He trailed a hand to your stomach, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him making him let out a particularly vulgar moan following by a grin on his lips. “You want me to knock you up, hm? Is that what you want?” 

“Please-” Your request came out as more of a whine, your eyes locked on his for just a moment but trailing down his face. A baby with his freckles was all you could really think about, a life with him. Some part of it was about possessiveness, you wanted him to mark his territory, and you wanted to mark yours. To be with him, and he clearly wanted the same thing from how his forehead fell against yours as he brought his hand down from your stomach to trace circles around your clit. 

“Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want.” He always got a bit more vulgar with his language as he got closer, but he was always honest - Javi hadn’t done anything dishonest in the entire time that you’d known him once he stopped working with Storm Par. “Gonna put a ring on that fucking finger, you know that?”

That was what sent you over the edge, your brain turning into mush as you reached your peak. Javi wasn’t close behind, his hips stuttering as the feeling of his orgasm filling you made you let out a series of unintelligible words. You’d never felt fuller, but you’d also never felt better. The idea of being with him forever was definitely more than an idea, at this point, it just felt like a promise. But you wanted that with him, you wanted it with him more than anything you’d ever wanted before. 

When you had both come down from your high’s, Javi took the time to push his come back inside of you with his fingers, a whine leaving your throat upon feeling the slight overstimulation. 

It didn’t take you both very long to clean up and get back into the couch, the couch where you had started to begin with. But now, he just had you wrapped up with him in a blanket. The sound from the television was definitely hitting your ears, but it was going in one and out the other. All you could really think about was Javi, about what had just transpired - mainly, about how you didn’t regret any of it.

“Do you really want to get pregnant?” 

“Do you really want to put a ring on my finger?”

“That wasn’t how I meant to ask you.” He replied, his voice soft. He almost seemed embarrassed that it had come out that way. “If it’s alright with you, I want to wait to ask you for a little bit, just because I had a plan that… you deserve. You deserve a real engagement story. To, you know, tell our kids. Can’t really tell them that I proposed during sex.”

Just the idea of sitting around telling that kind of story with children, your children, made your heart feel a bit warm. “You know, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted that kind of life before I met you.” Your head was tilted up to fact him, the movie forgotten. “But I do, even if I have to take a break from the field.”

“And won’t you be worried about me?” These were all things that you needed to talk about, things that you probably should have talked about before you just decided to go ahead an do it. 

“I’m going to be worried about you anyway, Javi.” You replied, moving up so your head was resting in between his shoulder and his jaw. He simply held you tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “But, yes, I was serious. I think a kid with your freckles would be just about the cutest thing.” 

You could tell that made him a little sheepish from the way that his skin heated up, and it definitely worsened it when you moved to press a kiss to his cheek. But, he was only sheepish from the compliment, not from the nature of what you were saying to him. 

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’d love to see a mini-you running around.” He replied, resting his chin on your head as he turned back to watch the movie.

There were some logistical things to work out. Things regarding work, things regarding maybe getting married before having a baby just so it didn’t look like you were having a shotgun wedding. You knew that you were going to have to probably move into a house together at some point, rather than an apartment with only one bedroom. Those issues were going to become more pressing as time carried on, but for the time being, you both knew that what you wanted was either other - that all you truly wanted was each other and a life together. That was all you truly wanted - or needed - to worry about for the time being.

[fixfoxnox]

Okay but think about this, the cod boys' reaction to having a Barrack's Bunny with them.

(if you don't know, a Barrack's Bunny is usually a woman, but can also be a man, that sleeps around a lot with their colleagues)

Idk if you want to like do all of the fabfavorites, but I'ld be most interested in how König, Ghost and Keegan would react!!

While we're talking about König, I had a stroke of genius a few days back and decided that König to me looks like Lee Pace, so...yeah, I'm imagining Lee Pace as this man. Lee Pace is also my fc for Johnathan Sanderson but that less important rn also I'm assuming we want romance/spice here so:

COD Boys Reaction to Finding Out Reader is a Barrack's Bunny

Characters: Price, Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Roach, König, and Keegan

Warnings: Possessiveness, NSFW Implied, Minor NSFW, choking (light), mentions of STD's, reader is a barracks bunny (sleeps around essentially)

Price

Price sees you coming out of some new recruits room, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled

He's not an idiot, Price has been around, he's had people like you on teams that he's worked with before

Still, this is the first time he's actually felt tempted

Calls you into his office a week later, after he's done more research and watched you dissappear in and out of different bunks. He had to be sure before he could act.

Sits you down and tells you that he knows what you've been doing

You're in a panic, sure you've been enjoying yourself but its not worth losing your job over

Everything is made even worse to you by the fact that its Price speaking to you about it

Captain of the illustrious Taskforce 141, everyone knows him, everyone knows his skill

You, in particular, know how fucking attractive he is

So while Price is "scolding" you (literally just telling you the dangers of what you're doing) you're trying desperately to pretend you aren't losing your shit and horny as fuck.

Then, at the end, Price is tapping your papers together and tells you he wants you to stop sleeping around with other recruits

He tells you that he wants you to get tested weekly now, to make sure you don't have anything

You ask him in a meek voice why weekly, why weekly if you're supposed to stop?

He leans back in his seat, his eyes practically devouring you as he reminds you

"I said stop sleeping around with the other recruits"

Price gives a much better offer. If you want to fuck around, why not fuck around with his team rather than the typically less than stellar recruits you'd been sleeping with

It's really not much of a question for you

When you accept, you see just a hint of a smirk tug at his lips, not much but enough to have you going warm

If you're warm then, you're sure you'll combust when Price pushes his seat back just enough to motion to the floor in front of his chair, his legs spread

"Go on then, you can start with just your hands until we get everything else sorted."

He doesn't interact much with the new recruits outside of training, but he knows you

Ghost

Ghost learns about what you've been up to from Price

He's seen the way the other recruits flock to you and hang off of you, he knows several of them have crushes

He assumed, however, that you hadn't been giving any of them the time of day, so he's a little shocked to hear what you've actually been up to.

Maybe part of him is a little jealous, but the bigger part of him is excited.

If you're willing to fuck with recruits who barely know how to use their cock, surely you'd have no issue with him.

He waits for Price to talk to you and waits patiently for everything to go through before he makes his move

It's after training and he's just watched you the whole time, anticipation for whats coming

Ghost doesn't indulge often, but when you're so open and he's feeling more than a little desperate, its easier to wait for you outside of the locker room.

As soon as you step out he has you by the arm, pulling you somewhere quiet and secluded

He has you pressed against a wall, a thigh pressed up against you as he gets close.

He makes sure you know that Price has told him what you've been up to

He enjoys the embarrassment that flushes across your face, but doesn't let it last very long as he presses closer

Asks you if you've been satisfied with the recruits you've been fucking with. Asks you if they fuck you the way that you like.

He's right against you now, his entire body pressed against yours so all you can do is shake your head no, feeling flushed from head to toe

"Bad choice going for the recruits, if you're going to sleep around you can at least get something out of it. You want something out of it?"

Let's a hand land temptingly over your crotch as he waits for your response, his intentions are perfectly clear.

He waits for your permission before jumping you, but he certainly makes his point about those recruits

Its not hard for you to say you'll be aiming higher up from that point on

Gaz

Absolutely miffed when he finds out

He probably spends the most time around the recruits, so he definitely knows you

He never would have expected it from you

Never would have known if he hadn't overheard some recruit trying to brag about it

"You're not special, they're a bunny dude. They've had like half the people on our squad."

Has a whole moment™ because he knows he has to tell someone about this, like its part of his thing as a superior to you

But also 😏

Maybe he can handle it on his own

Bides his time, watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to approach

Ends up finding it when he sees one of the recruits yoinking you out of the cafe for a very clear purpose

Hustles through a short cut to be able to cut you guys off

Acts like he has no idea what you guys were about to do

"Oh, there you are. I've been searching up and down for you. Think I can borrow them for a sec?"

You're more than a little confused when Gaz takes you back to his room rather than any meeting room

The lock of the door clicks behind you and the two of you are left alone

Gaz starts with the professional side of things

"I know what you've been doing."

You run cold and rush to explain yourself, but Gaz stops you with a hand raised

"Listen, this can't be good for you, and its against regulation, so I really do need you to stop."

You nod your head rapidly, prepared to literally fall to your knees in thanks for him not ratting you out. That is until he steps into your space

"However, if you're careful, maybe have one person take care of you, maybe it'll be alright."

Your eyes widen and a part of you runs hot as Gaz reached forward to tuck a finger under your chin, guiding you closer with just a light touch.

You're literally helpless against him, unable to do anything but follow as he brings you closer

"I'd be willing to volunteer, if you'd like"

You do end up liking ;)

Soap

Soap barely knows the recruits, he hardly pays attention to them

However he does know you

Soap's had his fair share of flings and his fair share of run ins with Barrack Bunnies before, he knows the type.

And he sees you chatting it up with the recruits and his brain clicks into place immediately

Maybe he doesn't believe at first, but later he sees you sneaking out of someone's room and he knows his instincts were right.

A part of him is really excited

Since joining the 141 he's held out on enjoying any of the more risqué things that people get up to

And he's been a little too busy to actually seek anything out even if he'd wanted to

So to have you show up and fall right into his lap? He plans to take full advantage

Soap knows the game, he knows how this all works. You don't talk about it directly

So he starts by fully introducing himself, giving you his name with a joke and a little bit of flirtation attached to let you know he's interested.

Then comes the talking as he slowly hints at what he wants, what he knows that you do

You pick up on it all pretty quick, after all this is part of what you do

Still, to say you're surprised would be an understatement

A member of the famous taskforce 141 wanting to use you? Sign you tf up

When one of you finally cracks and invites the other back to your room/bunk, its a literal flurry of movement

You're both pretty much ready for this so it makes sense that you're both on the exact same page

Course he takes good care of you and you're more than pleased. He's easily the best you've had

Later when you're laying in bed together Soap tells you:

"As your superior, I am required to tell you that you need to stop this by the way. However as me?? Well, I'll find you again soon."

Roach

Roach is the unlucky one who doesn't realize what you get up to until he happens to walk by the wrong room at the wrong time

He's heading to a meeting with the rest of the team, completely oblivious to any of the people he passes or conversations going on

That is until he turns a corner and passes a room where he can very clearly hear moans echoing from

Stops in place, absolutely shocked because hey that's a fucking broom closet

Sticks around just long enough to hear whoever you're with moan out your name

Then he's scampering off to his meeting, his face red and his mind only focused on what he's heard

Thats when he starts paying more attention and, after walking by yet another one of your rendezvous a few days later, he realizes exactly what's going on

He's a little uncomfortable to be honest

He found you one of the more likable recruits and had been helping you with your weapons tests

He'd taught you how to line up your shots quicker with a sniper and the fastest way to reload a pistol

He'd been rooting for you and you knew it

So a part of him felt uncomfortable because, really, if you needed someone to take care of you, why would you not come to him?

What was so great about all those recruits you were fucking? What was so great about hopping between people?

He probably wouldn't have been so odd about the whole thing if he was one of the people you were seeing

He's a bit distant the next time he helps you, not talking as much and hardly meeting your eyes.

He's touchy though, constantly reaching out to correct your form and brush his fingers over your skin in a way that leaves shivers down your spine

When your session is over, he stops you

"Listen, I'm not going to make a big deal out of this because I don't see whats wrong with it, but if you're going to be with a new guy every night, you need to at least find somewhere better than a broom closet."

You go bright red, stuttering out apologies and excuses about sharing the bunks with others, all while he watches you with soft eyes

"Well, I guess you could always use my room."

You stop stuttering and for a moment you and Roach just stare at each other.

He seems a bit unsure of himself, but after you don't rebuff him, he continues

"But I'm the only person you're allowed to bring back there. How's that sound?"

That sounded just perfect to you.

König

The thing about König is that he's very possessive

Its hard to keep things and have a constant in life when you're in the military, so when König finds something constant that he enjoys, he gets attached

You become a constant in his life after joining KorTac and falling under his command

König likes the people under his command, but he really really likes you

A part of him views you as his already, even when he hasn't quite worked up the courage to tell you yet

It frustrated him more then he could explain

All that confidence on the field, but when it came to something as simple as confessing his feelings and that anxiety from when he was younger would bubble back up

But what frustrated him more was coming to the realization that you'd been bouncing around the various KorTac members practically since you'd joined

Well, the various members minus him

He'd spotted you sneaking off with Conor or Roze one too many times and he wasn't stupid, he could figure out what was going on, even if it had taken him longer than he wanted to admit

He would have to rectify this issue

He calls you to his office, declaring it a matter of utmost importance, of course you believe him

Its easier for him when he can slip into his work mask, using the title of colonel to shield him from his usual anxiety.

"I know what you've been doing."

He calls you on it. Wastes no time in telling you that he knows what you've been up to.

You panic, assuming you were on the chopping block for breaking regulation. Apologies spill from your lips.

König listens to them as he stands up and rounds the desk, getting closer and closer to you with each step.

Finally he leans over you, silencing you with his towering presence

"You should be sorry. The only person you should be pleasuring is me."

You're taken aback completely, but you can't deny the heat that comes with the possession

König makes sure that you understand who it is you'll be taking care of from then on out, all while wiping the remnants of the other members of KorTac away from your skin with his own heated touch

Keegan

It's hard for Keegan to admit that he feels jealous

Usually he's calm and cool about things, always keeping a level head even with a gun pressed to his temple

He knows it and everyone else around him knows it

So its hard to admit when he is losing his cool, especially when he's losing his cool over you enjoying yourself

There are really no regulations anymore. The military is barely a military, held together by a string in a wasteland

So there isn't even anything wrong with what you're doing.

He can't tell you to stop, he'll just look like an ass

So instead he has to sit and watch as you cycle your way through half of the fucking platoon.

It eats him up, drives him crazy

He'd had Hesh make fun of him several times, mocking him for wanting to be one of the people you brought home

Hesh didn't get it, Keegan didn't want to be one of the people, he wanted to be the person!

Since finding out what you'd been up to, it had been hell, and he finally decided that it was time to confront you.

He corners you in one of the weapons tents, has you pressed against some ammo boxes as he asks you what you were doing the night before

You stutter through your answer, a little embarassed to admit to it, even if there was nothing wrong with what you'd done.

Keegan lets you stumble over yourself, enjoying the fool that you make before he just comes out and says it

He's not kind with it, instead he offers a more vulgar explanation and you gape at him, unsure of what to say or do

"No more of that, doll. I'm tired of it."

You go to protest, prepared to point out that he couldn't really stop you

Thats when you've got a leg between your thighs and a hand pressed gently to the base of your throat

"I want you all to myself. I'll take you better than any of those fucking rookies could even dream of."

He makes good on his promise

[little-sleepy-owl]

𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫,

who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. gender neutral, not so much explicit, but still smutty, as usual. Alastor is his own warning. kinda.

this one took me a while for several reasons. mostly because life is a bitch, but also because it was a really hard piece to write. I'm asexual myself and this is heavily self-indulgent. I wanted to maintain this treat of his, but still explore the sexual aspect of the relationship and the way asexual people might participate in it. so... yeah. proceed with understanding of this.

oh? so, you're just like him.

the only one who is not surprised whatsoever. isn't it supposed to be that way?

though there are a lot of vulgar people around. he might even praise you for keeping your chastity for so long.

but… becoming your first?

“Truly, my dear? That's quite the favor to ask a gentleman!”

it's less about being repulsed by the idea of intimacy (it doesn't sound bad if it's with you) and more about not wanting to step into a completely uncharted territory.

that's a first for him too, after all.

give him time. he needs to research some things before he's ready to try.

a week or two later he suddenly appears out of the shadows in your room with loud static noises, scaring the shit out of you, and announces that he would be very pleased to take the offer!!

hooray..? (please come out from under the bed, darling.)

now, just like Husk, he is an old-fashioned man. for him, this could only happen after a nice date.

he prefers a simple stroll around the city arm in arm, and having some coffee with you.

you can sense that he's a tad nervous, but also deeply thrilled. his posture is a little stiff while walking, ears, usually unmoving, twitch slightly here and there. it's cute.

you also notice he's more physically intimate with you today than usual. sitting a bit closer to you and leaning in subtly, so you can feel his warmth. gently covering your hand with his own. reaching to fix your hair, touch feather-like and making your heart pound in your chest.

none of it is sexual in any way, but the difference in his demeanor doesn't let you forget your plans for the night even for a moment.

judging by the sly curve of his smile and very attentive gaze, this is one hundred percent intentional.

inclined to take you into his own room after the date. if you're not against the living forest in the background.

(I suggest you accept the offer. fireflies would be a very romantic addition to your night.)

he needs to talk things out first.

“Let's discuss some rules of our… little arrangement.”

the rules are quite simple, although you might find them odd.

he will not take all his clothes off. especially not the lower part. pants stay on no matter what.

his hands, his mouth? all for your pleasure, darling. no limitations here.

and maybe, if you behave yourself and ask nicely… his shadows, too, can participate.

he merrily refuses to elaborate on what “behaving” means for him exactly. it's simply more fun that way, isn't it?

jacket tossed inside, sleeves rolled up. honestly speaking, it already feels too revealing. you don't think you ever saw so much of his arms or his neck before.

he is in a white shirt today, clean and pure, like the snow on the mountaintop. pristine even.

you never saw this, either.

he follows your gaze and his smile turns a little unsettling. you shiver, suddenly feeling like you are the one who's exposed here, even though you haven't taken off anything yet.

“No blood to stain it today, my dear,” he coos, adjusting the shirt slightly. oh, so usually he wears red for–

you don't want to continue this thought right now.

he's very insistent on undressing you by himself.

he uncovers you like you're his birthday cake in a cute present box. slowly removing every ribbon, carefully taking off the wrapping, anticipating what's underneath.

his hands are cold, but his eyes are heated, even somewhat hungry. and so, so intent.

he drinks on your every shiver, on the way your lips parts ever so slightly to let out a small gasp, on the goosebumps that run on your skin, when he leans in to nibble on your pretty neck, right beside the quicked throbbing of your pulse.

he hums an old tune, seemingly lost in exploration of your body and the way you respond to his touch.

he's eager to learn and very observant. he changes the pace the moment he notices you feeling uncomfortable. he discovers what makes you respond well and uses the knowledge without any shame.

but he also does very much love you telling him what you want him to do with that cute trembling voice of yours.

that's what eventually earns you the shadows taking part in the whole fun. if this is something you desire.

if you weren't satisfied before, you most certainly are now.

expect him to restrain you. he likes to see you squirming under his touch, unable to set the pace. he does everything deliberately slow, so you would beg him to give you more and do it faster.

he's very controlling in general, and although he takes into account what you want, he will also act on his own whim.

it honestly seems that he likes teasing and tormenting you to see your reactions much more than the physical aspect of it all.

humor him, and he will reward you accordingly.

but don't let him get too lost in it. he has a tendency to forget that you're not merely a toy to play with.

set some boundaries and you'll be alright.

once you both decide it's enough, he's a thoughtful gentleman again, bringing a glass of water for you, and helping you clean yourself up.

will let you rest your head on his lap, gentle light of fireflies surrounding you.

he sings a shooting melody, letting you peacefully drift off to sleep.

[bellalove69420]

My main struggles with the percy jackson fandom, but its an ADHD rant, that ended up being wayyyy longer than i meant it too.

I can't wait for them to do a heroes of olympus show (I hope so), and most of these leo girls are so surprised when he isn't this super hot, conventionally attractive guy, because in the book he isn't supposed to be conventionally attractive. He's supposed to be kinda ugly, that's one of the reasons he's so jealous of Jason.

It's one of the things that frustrates me most about the percy jackson fandom, is some of the erasure that goes on, in lots of characters. I mean so many. Not only Leo, but also Nico, Piper, Hazel, and Frank. People think of these characters in such ways that are so base level.

There are probably many others, that is just off the top of my head. Now there is things that are understandable, like how Hazel is just a cutie pie, but even then, I feel like people erase how truly powerful she is.

Also, minus nico, this happens mostly to the characters that are people of color, and I'm white, so I don't want to speak to much on something I don't understand. But it is something that happens very much, is that people see these characters as what they are on a base level, but not on a deeper level. Whether that is Piper and how she is barely brought up to be Native American anymore, and Rick Riordan hasn't done this, but I feel like this fandom has majorly white washed her. This has also happened with Frank, who, yes, in the book he does say many times "I'm from Canada, I'm not really Chinese" but thay doesn't mean as a fandom we erase that from him entirely.

This also happens with LGBTQ+ characters, I STILL find people writing nico di angelo x FEMALE readers. Which is unexeptable and not okay. That man has been out as gay for 10 YEARS, and people are erasing that as such a huge part of his character. What is wrong with u, there is a whole chapter that made me SOB as a 13 year old, that you people are not going to take away from me. Especially from someone who was outed.

Also, there are so many fanfictions I read where I feel like everyone's ADHD is just gone, like not there at all. What happened to that? That's such a huge part of how people discovered they were demigods. That's coming from someone who struggles from ADHD, also, if you don't know how to write it, do research, Google is free, and easy to use, and there is many good resources for ADHD research.

So, yeah, as a whole for such a wildly inclusive book series, that I love so much, I feel like this fandom needs to work on the erasure of minorities, as a whole.

[appleblueberry-pie]

About Yanderes

Content Warning, obviously.

I keep seeing the same issue come up onto my timeline, so I'll speak on it once more.

If you simply search up on Google for the definition of what a Yandere is, it states, "A character, usually a girl, who has an obsessive and possessive side in regards to their crush, ready to use violent and murderous means to maintain an exclusive bond."

Can someone please tell me, what is so......difficult, for lack of a better word, about writing about someone who "is ready to use violent and murderous means to maintain an exclusive bond"?

If you keep scrolling to find more definitions of what a yandere is, you'll find a common theme amongst most.

"A yandere is a character, most often female and in anime, who become violently possessive of a love interest." Dictionary.com

"A person who will go to near-extreme to extreme lengths to be in or deepen a desired relationship, weather it be romantic, platonic, familial, etc." Urban Dictionary

"A yandere is a Japanese archetype used to define a character whose love, admiration, and devotion is so strong that it is expressed as an excessive obsession and..." The Dere Types Wiki

Some key words I would like to point out are crush, love interest, desired relationship, love, devotion.

The thing is, so, so, so, so, so, sooooo many people title the characters that they are writing for as a Yandere, but the behavior of said character is anything but what a Yandere actually is. I just read a short drabble of a Yandere character, and the only thing that happened in the story that stuck with me was straight up rape, sexual assault, force feeding and such. It was pretty disturbing and I definitely know that those are traits that a Yandere would ABSOLUTELY NOT have. There are different types of dere's. And I think people are used to calling everything that isn't the normal way a character behaves as Yandere tendencies.

Holding someone hostage and raping them isn't Yandere tendencies.

Killing a person and having no remorse for that person your character was a supposed Yandere for is not Yandere tendencies.

Killing a person and then your character mentioning if they can't have them, no one can and probably preserving a piece of them to cherish forever is some form of Yandere tendencies.

If you are going to write about Yandere's please check the definition before you write anything down. Because every time I see the word Yandere in front of a character's name, I expect to see them cherish the ground the reader walks on. Kill anyone who gets in their way of having the reader. Loving the reader. Wanting the reader. Wanting to please the reader. Wanting the reader so bad that they can't fucking breathe or live without them. This character should feel like they might fucking DIE without the reader. It's supposed to be a sick love story. But you're missing the love story part.

Please please please please please do your research. I'm very tired of reading about rape and abuse when it's not supposed to be that.

[lily-of-the-tardis]

*sigh* This article is actually not trying to ignore Doctor Who’s history so let’s take a look instead of screaming about a headline.

First of all the headline’s been changed on the actual website but it doesn’t seem that Twitter reflects that.

The lede has always been about how they’re talking specifically about the Doctor only as they are aware side characters have had same-sex kisses. I can’t verify for certain but I believe they added “explicitly romantic” to clarify things as this section always existed in the article:

They always meant to discuss what’s actually new here: a completely reciprocal same-sex romance for the Doctor onscreen. We can argue about whether Nine was interested in Jack, but I think we can agree there was far more interest displayed by the Doctor when it came to Rogue. But it’s perfectly fine that they wrote an article detailing what actually is a huge moment for the show and honestly that should be encouraged. I want to see more articles writing about queer parts of shows instead of ignoring them.

And yes, this whole thing is a side-effect of Disney but only because their licensing rights (they don't have any control over the show) have made Doctor Who far more accessible in the US. Plus, they're doing some pretty serious advertising to put the show on more people's radars, which is likely why anyone at Deadline Hollywood was even aware of Rogue and wrote this article. No one is pretending Disney has erased the show's past and is doing all these new "firsts".

The issue here is primarily that the headline is disingenuous. Their article has always been about the Doctor’s first explicitly romantic same-sex relationship, but they wanted clicks so they wrote the headline to be vaguer and imply something much more groundbreaking. Even saying “first romantic same-sex kiss” is a bit disingenuous, as it doesn’t clarify the kiss is referring to the title character. (Edit: I somehow missed that the updated headline actually does clarify they mean the Doctor by saying "time lord". This new headline very clearly previews what is discussed in the article and is no longer disingenuous.)

Thankfully they corrected the article after receiving feedback from the fans, which is great.

But they did their research, which y’all would’ve known if you bothered to look at the article (which isn’t actually behind a paywall! A rarity these days, though I can’t speak to access outside the US). If something seems informationally off to you, go to the source and actually look at what they're saying, then find the facts. We're not going to get anywhere if we just continue to yell about headlines without reading the actual article that, you know, expands upon the snapshot headline.

The topic of critique should be their poor headline, not the supposed lack of truth in their article. It's great to call them out for poor reporting, as they claim to be a news source and those should be factual, unbiased reporting as opposed to a tabloid. But the issue in their reporting here is simply their phrasing. Criticize them for misleading, not for an assumed lack of information that was actually acknowledged and present in the article. They need to improve but they won't until the real problem is highlighted for them.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Do you have any more stories like Cool Story, Bro? Not that stiles is a twin, but that he's pining and feels inferior and there's miscommunications? Or like, Derek is trying to date stiles, but it's a little difficult when stiles thinks it's only fuckbuddies?

Btw, should've lead with this, BUT Y'ALL ARE FREAKING AWESOME!!!

AND

Anonymous asked:

Can you reccomend some sterek fics where they're both head over heels for each other but are too dumb to notice its mutual

AND

Anonymous asked:

hi!! do you have any fic recs where stiles is oblivious to how attractive he is? it’s my absolute favorite trope when he has no idea the effect he’s got on people. thank you guys for all of the work you do it is insanely impressive!!!

Let's find out!

How To Make a Werewolf not Hate You (side affects may include love). by AlexTheShipper

(1/1 I 3,189 I Explicit)

Derek is trying to hold out for his soul mate Genim and refuses to fall for Stiles and his cute moles. Stiles thinks Derek hates him.

Are you in love or something? by yumelilo 

(1/1 I 4,489 I Teen)

Derek Hale was just chilling in his new apartment, minding his own business, when Stiles Stilinski decided to pay him a visit in his summer break from College.

- "Dude, seriously, The Weepies?", Stiles commented on the soft tones coming from Derek's sound system. "I always took you for the heavy metal and hard rock guy...", he mused. Derek huffed a laugh, but kept his face partially hidden. "What are you doing here Stiles?", he asked. The unspoken 'How the fuck did you get keys to my new place?' heavily implied. He heard the human sigh long and suffering, like the idea of answering Derek's question would physically hurt him in a way.

A Question of Pack by CawCawMF

(1/1 I 5,291 I Teen)

Stiles had always been sure of his place in the pack. That place being the absolute lowest tier in the hierarchy of werewolf pack dynamics, but he was sure of it all the same. He wasn’t necessary exactly, since just about anyone could conduct research on supernatural mythology, but his job was still important to the pack and he felt good about that. At least, that’s what he always thought. That all came crumbling down one sunny afternoon in the form of Jackson’s big mouth.

Give me a fucking break. Preferably yesterday. by KinimiB

(4/10 I 7,487 I Not Rated)

Stiles knew that if you asked who's easiest to repleace or most useless in pack, the answer would be quick and always the same. Stiles, ordinary, clumsy human. He knew that, everybody did, but it was just an unspoken rule not to say it out loud.

Until it wasn't.

You're It For Me by RageBiter

(1/1 I 7,960 I Mature)

Derek gets cursed by a witch so every time he's too far from Stiles he endures extreme amounts of pain, not that that's any different from usual. Stiles has to stay at Derek's loft and they get closer than Stiles ever though they'd be. Derek's forced to tell Stiles the secret he's been keeping from him since they met. He and Stiles are mates.

I'm a War of Head Versus Heart by NieR

(5/10 I 23,091 I Explicit)

Being FWB with Derek Hale is great. Awesome, even.

But somehow, somewhere along the way, Stiles thinks he might have fallen in love.

And, well, shit.

don't know what i'm supposed to do (haunted by the ghost of you) by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

(1/1 I 30,926 I Teen)

Stiles sees dead people. Yep. Seriously.

(He’s got this. He’s totally got this. So what if one of them is Derek’s mom?)

If You Wanna Be My Roomie (Lover) by orphan_account

(23/23 I 65,056 I Explicit)

Realistically, Stiles knew that the local University's popularity and commonality meant that many members of his graduating high school class would be starting the Fall 2016 semester alongside him, but he never expected his longtime crush to be one of them. Even more so, he never expected said crush to be assigned as his roommate...oh boy.

You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter

(15/15 I 234,195 I Not Rated)

The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.

Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!

My summaries are rubbish but I hope you'll still give it a chance!