#which is to say it goes practically nowhere

[dragonsholygrail]

There were moments you could be paranoid. Who isn't sometimes? But when you swear there's a monster under your bed, everyone simply laughs and brushes off your concerns.

If only they knew, if only they understood. The way strange things kept happening in your bedroom. Your underwear you flicked off that was suddenly nowhere to be seen when you went to pick it up. The way your towel always seemed to fall off your body as soon as you pranced back into your room after a shower.

But every time you looked under your bed, you got no real proof. You narrow your eyes into the particularly dark corner of your bed, even swearing you see a few eyes peeking out. That wouldn't be enough. You needed undeniable proof and you wouldn't stop until you got it.

Your retaliation is swift and brutal. Teasing them mercilessly as you refuse to wear panties in your bedroom. Adorning new skimpy outfits, that way the monster can easily look up and see your glistening pussy. Can smell your arousal and know there’s nothing for your essence to catch onto. Yet they’re immobilized, not being able to steal your panties or reveal themselves to get to you.

You no longer bother putting on a towel after your showers. Leaving your wet body on full display. Taunting the monster under your bed and putting on a show for them as you slowly get dressed.

Making sure to find any excuse you can to bend over, letting the monster watch from afar as you present your body to them.

You can always feel its gaze on you. The way it’s many eyes lock onto your form, their focus unyielding as soon as you open the door to your room. The longer this goes on, the thicker the air in the bedroom grows. Tensions rising and sexual need growing. The frustration and restraint pushing and pulling to create an alluring atmosphere that slowly becomes irresistible.

Affecting not only the monster under your bed but you as well. Sensing such a strong desire from the monster has arousal coursing through you, your pussy getting wetter with each passing day. If their attentions rile you up this much, you start to wonder just how fucked you’ll be when they finally snap and take you like you’ve been waiting for them to.

It’s that same night when the monster under your bed can’t take it anymore. Your bare body squirming on the bed, blanket pushed aside. Their form rages with need, cock already dripping with pre-cum. Their tentacles snap out, not holding back as they spread your body for them and pin you down into the bed.

Tiny groans leave you as you wake up. Eyelashes fluttering open before a gasp rips from your throat at the sight of the monster at the end of the bed. Finally showing themself. Their slick yet soft tentacles tighten their grip in fear of an attempted escape and you moan softly.

“Finally…” you say breathlessly. The monster doesn’t wait a moment longer.

Their cock slides in with ease, which wasn’t surprising given has you had tortured the poor thing by touching yourself right before you slept. Hearing your moans but not being able to see was agony. But now that was all over. The monster growls and instantly starts pounding into your wet hole.

You remain practically still, no matter how much you try to writhe and twitch. So firmly enveloped in their tentacles that all you can do is take it and fall deeper into sensation as their cock savagely snaps into you, wrecking you and molding your body to fit their mindblowing girth.

They fuck into you like a beast, eyes roaming over your jolting form, ears picking up on the way your bodies clap together. All of this being so much better than either of you imagined. They can’t get enough of you, tentacles slipping into your mouth to which you immediately start sucking on them. Only heightening the pleasure for you both.

When your orgasm suddenly crashes into you without warning, you scream around their tentacles, pussy clenching down on their thick cock to milk it for all it’s worth. The monster from under your bed lets out a chilling roar that sends goosebumps down your spine before it shoots his seed deep inside your cunt.

You continue to soothingly suck on their tentacles, giggling as you feel it twitch in your mouth. Wondering how sensitive they are…Thinking you may need more forms of proof to really convince people they’re real.

The monster from under your bed growls once more at the sultry look in your eye. Their tentacles possessively clinging to every inch of you before they start rolling their hips back inside your needy cunt. Ready to fuck you all throughout the long night until they have to return back under your bed when the morning comes.

[hysteria-things]

can we have a fic where reader is innocent and mean dom!matt takes her card if ykyk🙏🙏🙏

BONUS!

NOT SO INNOCENT

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt figures out what game you’re playing; which your “innocence” is just an act.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, swearing, dry humping, degradation, pussy slapping, fingering, finger sucking, p in v, spanking, choking, corruption kink, faux-sympathy, crying, breeding, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,069

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’m sorry if the reader isn’t as innocent i’m too horny to write about innocence right now😪

MATT IS A MEANIE IN THIS! I’M WARNING YOU, THIS ONE IS A LITTLE MUCH! AS ALWAYS, BE AWARE THAT THIS IS FICTION! love you all :)

if innocent had a picture in the dictionary, it would be of you. Intimacy-wise, you’ve only held hands and kissed — not made out — kissed. you haven’t even been eaten out, let alone been fingered or fingered yourself. you’re a fucking virgin for crying out loud.

well… you have ridden your pillow before, thinking about your current boyfriend. especially when he’s sleeping next to you.

still being fully clothed, your clit rubs perfectly against the fabric while you rock your hips. you swallow every moan, instead choking out and breathing heavily. your pink bow lays haphazardly in your disheveled hair. looking at matt’s face, you lean forward to hit a different angle. you pout, shutting your eyes before the pillow disappears, and the ecstasy goes away. “stop acting like a slut and go the fuck to bed.” matt’s voice says, the pent-up orgasm fading away.

secretly, you’re a nymphomaniac. interesting. maybe you’re NOT SO INNOCENT after all.

most girls want their first time to be gentle and a night to remember, but you want it the opposite. you purposely want it rough. you want to cry out from how good it feels. you want to feel useless under matt’s weight.

wiping the sugar off of your hands, you finish your cookie, a smile of contentment on your face. you are leaning over the counter when you hear the front door of the home open. when the footsteps enter the kitchen, you bite your lip and wiggle your ass. you’re wearing a micro skirt, a lacy thong on full display.

“i’m so fucking sick of your shit,” he says suddenly, grasping your wrist and practically dragging you as you stumble up the stairs. you giggle to the bedroom. his hands push at your chest, causing you to fall back on the bed.

tearing your tights open, he rips off your panties. you wince, before squealing when he gives your pussy a slap. “you’re ready for me to fuck you dumb, huh?”

you nod frantically, earning another slap on your folds. “use your words.”

“y-yes.” you breathe out, eyes already watering. “yes, please.”

your heart beats fast in your chest, nervous but excited at the same time. you shiver once you feel fingertips graze your slit. collecting your slick, he inserts his pointer finger inside your hole. face scrunching up, you bite back a hiss.

torso lifting from the bed, he pins it back down with his hand on your stomach. another hand makes contact with the outside of your thigh. “relax. sit still for me, yeah?”

pumping slowly, you gasp softly into the air, before he adds his ring finger out of nowhere. “ah.” you moan painfully, the pressure feeling strange from his long digits moving in and out. his body shifts on top of you, lips hovering over yours.

right when matt kisses you longingly, he curls his fingers to get that spot nice and deep. because of how wet you are, it makes it easier for him to pump at a faster pace. you wiggle and squirm in his grasp, but there’s no point.

it’s embarrassing how quickly he pulls an orgasm out of you. you quiver underneath him nonetheless, a squelching noise heard once he takes his fingers out. he grips your jaw, taking you by surprise, and lifts his digits into your view.

they glisten in the moonlight, your release dripping down his knuckles. before being able to get out a breath, you choke instead when he shoves them into your mouth. you groan at the taste. “you like the way you taste?”

humming in a positive way, your eyes roll back when you suck the remaining liquid off. the flavor is sweet and salty at the same time. “slut’s getting turned on.” he says matter of factly, before gripping tight onto your waist to flip you over. he gives you a spank, groaning at the view.

soaking wet, arousal dripping down your inner thigh, he pulls down his pants. his eyes stay on the mess in front of him, pumping himself a few times before lining up to your entrance. his veiny hand takes your small ones and pins them behind your back. “come on.” you hear matt talk to himself, trying to push his tip inside of you. you arch your ass to him, crying out when there’s a stinging on your buttcheek. “greedy whore.” he mumbles.

“too big!” you whine, matt fucking only the tip in your needy cunt.

“too big.” he mocks with a scoff. “i’m not even close to halfway.”

pulling out, he laughs out loud. he’s fucking laughing at you. “i’ve been wanting to stretch out this pussy for months.”

biting the pillow your head is resting on, you scream when he suddenly bullies all of his cock into you. he moans, throwing his head back. this is better than he’s ever imagined. he wraps his hand around your neck.

that’s it. you’re officially under matt’s dominance.

sliding his dick in repeatedly, you moan uncontrollably in the pillow. “poor baby.” he coos in a faux tone. “not so goody-goody now, right?”

yeah, it’s painful, but it’s pleasurable at the time time. tears trickle down your face, your toes curling as his cock drills into you. your hands clench into fists, knuckles turning white. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” you whimper softly.

“god, you’re so fucking tight. my tight little pussy to use whenever i please,” he grunts, your body rocking to the point where the bed starts to squeak.

“it hurts!” you sob, rolling your eyes back when he hits your g-spot. “hurts too good!”

the same hot feeling as before forms in your abdomen. you clench around him, wanting to cum so badly on his shaft. “going to breed you real nice; fill you up to the brim so a part of me can be with you forever.”

a ring of white smears around his base, and you nod quickly. “i knew a slut like you would like that shit. you look so pretty cumming for me.”

body spent, you’re shaking as your brain feels empty. you can’t think straight anymore, only about how your boyfriend’s load paints your gummy walls. you try to catch your breath when he pulls out, still in position with a mixture of cum dripping from your cunt onto the comforter. you can’t help but smile sinisterly.

just like that, your innocence is gone.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe

꩜.ᐟ Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Notes: I've seen fics abt padawan reader and none can quench my thirst eugh😫pls note i have nooo idea what goes on in the star wars universe please don't come for me😣

"Hand me that one, fast" He gestured to the purple fruit just beside you, not daring to glance at you. "Yes, sir"

You curiously peeked over your master as you handed the fruit, what was so important it had him rushing like this?

"It's for Mae," he says, the squelching fruit making you frown, you forget he reads minds as easily as breathing. Your frown deepens as you remember. Mae. His acolyte, he took you in a few months before Mae came, that first few months felt like heaven, it was just you and him, in this unknown planet, training, practicing.

Yet, after Mae came, it almost felt like you were some kind of servant for the both of them, he trained with her day and night, leaving you to fend for yourself, he told you it's because you've already been trained by him, that you don't need to anymore, you didn't mind, you got along with Mae... on your perspective that is.

Mae was a fast learner, you were proud of her, now you have someone to share your training with, converse like a normal person, but later you realized that him and her were two sides of the same coin, quiet, mute, they don't like conversations, although you made an effort to be friends with Mae, than you ever did with your master since she was the lesser evil, you're quite proud of yourself when your conversations with her turned from smalls nods and no's to simple phrases.

You didn't care that your master had two Padawans under his belt, that is until he taught her some things he never even told you about, every now and then he would drop hints about what he would teach you next, to prepare you, but this one was unknown to you, you thought, maybe, maybe he forgot to tell you since he was so engrossed in trying to make Mae catch up to you, but Mae didn't just catch up to you, she had already passed way above you, while your stuck on the pedestal she was weeks ago.

"Something on your mind, little bee?" That nickname, he never once gave an explanation on why he calls you that. "No, uh, nothing.. master"

You focus on his muscles grinding the stone bowl.

"I don't think that's nothing"

"I'm fine, really." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Hm"

You blink, fiddling with the hem of your robes, you let a few seconds pass before speaking up.

"Why.. why does Mae need it?" He halted his movements, and right then and there you almost regretted asking, almost. "She's having nightmares"

He resumed his cooking, although his brief answer didn't provide you with anything, so what? You were having nightmares once too, and he told you to suck it up.

And as if he read your mind, which he did. "I don't want it to hinder her performance, we don't want any distractions during this time of her training."

What about my training? You wanted to yell at him, what about me? Why can't you make me one of your anti-nightmare potions too?

You could only clench your fists, making sure he doesn't hear some of your thoughts, which is hard considering he didn't teach you to, only Mae, along with healing your body by using the force, all her, and your left in the dust.

Your master said using negative emotions is the best fuel for people like them. Them. He told you, him and Mae obvi, you're nowhere near the equation, like an addition symbol in a multiplication question, makes no sense right? Because you make no sense being there when he clearly prioritizes Mae.

"—are you still listening?"

"I, huh," your eyes flutter up to him, frowning when he says nothing but look at you. A few seconds pass with only the both of you staring each other down, I mean, him staring you down with his creepy mask, he suddenly lets go of the pestle, the tool colliding with the mortar loudly.

He was now towering over you, and you realize then how big he was compared to you, it's like a dwarf next to a willow tree. (Guys no matter how big you think you are, Qimir is always bigger✋)

"I can't hear you, but I feel you" oh fuck, you forgot about that. "What is this plaguing your mind?"

Before you could answer, Mae comes running.

"You're back" He focuses on her, you let out a deep breath, for once your relieved Mae came in just a nick of time. "The ship's ready, master"

"Good, let's go" he grabs his robe from behind you. "Finish the potion before we come back"

"Whe, where are you guys going?"

"Nothing of importance, now go." He gestures to the stone bowl, his menacing helmet buzzing in your ears. "Yes, master.."

"Good girl." you couldn't hear his last few mumbles, only registering everything when they left the cave, leaving you alone.

-

You decided that you're gonna make an anti-nightmare potion for yourself too, because why does only Mae get it when you can make one in case you get nightmares?

And the best place to buy ingredients was with the best apothecary in town.

"Qimir?" You knock on the door. "I need to buy things for him, are you there?"

No answer.

"Hellooo?"

You pouted and turned around, now everyone's busy when you're not, you wanted to wait for a few more seconds but people might think you're crazy for trying to buy from an abandoned pharmacy, your master told you Qimir was there anytime you needed something to use for missions, but now that you don't go to missions, you love to annoy the clumsy pharmacy owner.

"Hey, wait!"

You tried to stop the smile creeping to your face when you hear the door bust open.

"I'm here!" He yelled, you turned around and waved, a big smile covering your face. "What took you so long?"

"What do you mean?" He playfully shrugged. "Been here since forever"

You felt more comfortable with him, you don't have to have to tiptoe around him unlike with the other, you liked to tease him about not taking a bath and for looking like a ragged hobo.

"What are you doing here though?" His eyebrows furrowed as you skip to him, you gave him a warm smile once again before making your way inside. "I need some things for him."

He frowned.

"Things? He didn't tell me he needed anything when they passed here."

"Well he told me, so go fetch it for me, servant" you chuckle and hit him on the bicep, he fakes a cry before hesitating to open the shelves.

"Here's the list of his majesty needs"

"His majesty?" He laughs, you just love making him laugh, maybe it's just you, or maybe you're just alone, but if there's anyone in the world you're going to survive an apocalypse with, it's Qimir.

"Uh huh, he keeps barking orders, finish this, finish that before we get home nyeh nyeh nyeh"

He chuckles once again. "Are you sure about telling me that? I might just snitch and get a promotion."

You feign an insulted look. "You don't dare"

"Oh but I do"

You both sat there laughing, forgetting about what you were here for. You clutch your tummy and struggle to inhale air.

"I can't— stop—" you burst out laughing once again, your face heating up, the tears in your eyes now brimming full.

"No no don't die on me" He jokes, you can see him staring, you wanted to look at him like that, shameless, but you can't stand looking at him for more than 3 seconds without blushing.

"Really?" He mumbles, but you heard him, clear as day. "What?"

"I, I mean, really h-huh? You can't stop laughing?" He waved both his hands in the air.

"You weirdo"

"Oh so now I'm the weirdo?"

"Uh huh"

"Since when?!"

"Since we met"

"Says the person who keeps barging in my shop"

"You like it though right?" You look up at him expectantly. "Like w-what?"

You gesture with your hands. "This?"

"This what?"

"You're always alone here, you must be grateful that I always visit."

"Yeah, always"

"What does that mean!" You put your hands on your waist. "It means you're always here, so you're like an everyday occurance by now"

You roll your eyes as he finishes up the list.

"Here's the last one—" you frown as he pauses. "What?"

"Isn't this," he picks up the list again. "It's for.."

You gulp, your fingers fumble with the wooden seat.

"N-no, no, it's not" you avert your eyes from him, the floor looking a little more interesting today.

"It's for nightmares isn't it?"

"I don't know, he only gave the list, nothing else."

"It is for nightmares, why do you need these?"

"I don't know, it's not for me." You clench your fists. "If it was for him he'd tell me himself"

Your eyes try to find something, anything, to tell him.

"I think it's for Mae okay? Maybe, maybe she's having nightmares and, and maybe he doesn't want it to distract her.."

"But I al—" he pauses, his jaw flexing. "I already gave him these."

His eyes narrow on you, like a deer in the headlights you could only look away.

"Tell me?" His soft voice lures you to him. "Are you having them?"

"No.." you sigh, do you tell him you're making the potion out of spite for your master? For making one for Mae and not for you, ugh it all sounds childish now, before you left you had a plan, and now you look like a child caught.

"Just—" you let out a deep breath. "Give it, and I'll be on my way"

He stares at you for a moment, before placing everything in a small pouch. You thanked him and left the credits on the table before hurriedly leaving, you could still feel his stare at the back of your head.

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 6th Prompt: Dizzy

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve stands up, and that’s where it all goes wrong.

His intent was to grab more drinks from the fridge, but when he stood, he blinked a few times. “Whoa,” he murmurs.

“Steve?” Robin asks. She sounds like she’s at the end of a long tunnel.

“Steve?” Eddie asks. He sounds closer, but not as close as he should.

“‘M fine,” he says, “jus’ dizzy.”

Then he’s waking up in the hospital. “What,” he asks, then doesn’t complete the thought because Robin and Eddie are both standing over him, one on each side, holding each of his hands, and he’d feel so much love if he could feel anything besides general panic because- “I can’t hear you,” he says, breathing picking up. “I can’t- please, I- I need-”

Eddie shuts up, staring at him with wide eyes, and after a second of hesitation, places Steve’s hand, palm down, on his chest. He takes deep, purposeful breaths, and Steve can feel his hand moving, feel the breaths, feel his heartbeat-

He takes a breath. Another. Another. By that time, Nancy had gotten a doctor.

Later, he’ll learn this is something they’d been watching for, but couldn’t be sure of until he woke up. Later, he’ll learn that Eddie lays awake at night, sometimes, hearing the sound Robin makes.

All he knows right now is how to keep breathing, how to keep holding Robin’s hand, how to believe he’ll be okay, because he has to.

He has to.

He stays with Eddie upon his release, because they’re together most days anyways, and it’s a certain kind of torture on Steve’s heart because Eddie’s started carrying around a notebook and a pen just to write to Steve whatever he was gonna say, and Steve doesn’t think he could love another person more than he did, but here’s the proof, apparently.

They’re sharing a bed, because Wayne had previously called their couch “older than Jesus,” and Steve lasted for all of an hour on it before slipping into Eddie’s room.

The good thing about sharing a room is it helps curb the nightmares for a time.

Eventually, though, they come back with a vengeance.

Steve’s laying in bed, like he does every night, when he rolls over to face Eddie. “Eddie?” He asks. Eddie’s always last to sleep, so Steve’s not hesitant about asking, except Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie?” He asks again, jostling Eddie’s shoulder a bit.

Suddenly he shoots up in the air, and Steve bites back a yell.

Suddenly there’s a voice that sounds like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating off the corners of the room, echoing louder and louder. You took everything from me. Eddie’s arms snap, and Steve yells, scrambles up, music, except what’s his favorite song—that puppet one, metal, come on brain, think—but there’s nothing here but country, bluegrass, stuff Wayne likes, and Steve turns to watch the blood drain from Eddie’s face as another gristly crunch echoes, louder than anything so far. So I’ll take everything from you!

Something reaches out for him, grabs his shoulder, and he yells, twists around, pushes away, hard enough he falls on the ground. He opens his eyes to see Eddie on his bed, Steve sitting just off it, eyes wide and hand reaching to help, stalled halfway. Illuminated by the lamp, too, which wasn’t on half a second ago.

Steve blinks at him, looks at the room. No floating Eddie in the middle of it.

“Dream?” He asks. Eddie nods. He stifles the sob and practically launches himself onto the bed, into Eddie’s arms, lets himself shake apart because he can.

Eventually he feels reverberating in Eddie’s chest that he knows means words, means speaking, so he looks up at Eddie, who’s looking at the door.

He turns to look, too, and sees Wayne. “S-sorry,” he tries, still sniffling.

Wayne shakes his head at him, walks into the room, sits on the edge of the bed. Offers his arms out in a hug.

Steve thought he was done crying. Trust Wayne to prove him wrong, because he’s tearing up all over again as he leans into Wayne.

His new position means he can see Eddie, who points at him, makes a talking motion with his hand, then points at himself and Wayne. Steve frowns. “You… want me to tell you?”

Eddie points at Steve again, insistently, and Steve understands: your choice.

“I can,” he agrees. “We were in bed and I was tryin’a talk to you, but you didn’t answer, and I kept trying to get your attention, but suddenly you- you were up in the air, and your arms and legs broke, and a voice—it was Vecna, I didn’t recognize it in the dream—said I’d taken everything from him so he was gonna take everything from me. And I was trying to find music, but I couldn’t remember the name of your favorite song, and the only stuff in here was Wayne’s stuff, country and bluegrass and stuff like that, and…” he sighs out a broken sob. “I couldn’t save you.”

Eddie reaches for his hand, but suddenly that’s not enough, he needs to be able to feel his heartbeat, have his breathing move Steve’s hand, so he tips over into Eddie again, gets his hand on his chest and his face in the side of his neck.

Eddie says something, but before Steve can move Wayne’s got a comforting hand on his back. He removes it after a minute, and Steve can feel the shift in the bed of him getting up, but before he can mourn the loss, Eddie’s got his arms wrapped around Steve as he carefully lowers them back down. He rubs a hand up and down Steve’s spine, slips the other into Steve’s hair.

Steve falls asleep like that.

He wakes up in almost the same position. He tries to apologize, but Eddie waves him off, hands him some clothes and points to the bathroom before pointing to himself and miming cooking.

Steve’s heart clenches at the thought. “Okay,” he whispers.

Robin comes over later, and they sit on the front steps as he recounts what had happened. “He’s just so sweet,” he sighs. “And I’m an idiot who’s letting my heart get involved.”

Robin wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple. It doesn’t help as much as he’d hoped it would, but he appreciates the gesture anyways.

Later she leaves, and Eddie pulls out his dedicated Steve Notebook.

I’ve got a friend in Indy who knows sign language. I could give her a call, if you want? He writes, and again Steve’s all but overcome with love for this man.

Instead of anything he wants to do, he just nods. Eddie grins and hops up to use the phone.

He’s back in a couple of minutes, collapses onto the couch with the notebook before furiously scribbling and handing it to Steve.

I spoke to my friend. She says sorry and it sucks, first of all. Steve snorts and nods. She’s willing to talk to you, get you started, maybe even get you some books. Does tomorrow work?

Steve gapes up at Eddie. “Tomorrow?”

Eddie nods and grins, then points at Steve in a gesture Steve knows has come to mean you decide.

“That would be great,” he says. “Seriously, I- thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie waves him off, but Steve can see the happy little blush on his cheeks.

They head out the next day. It’s probably twenty minutes into the drive, and even with Eddie sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, it feels lonely. He never realized how much he’d miss the sound of tires on asphalt. He wasn’t ever truly into music, like Eddie is, but he misses the radio. He misses the wind rushing past, the silence that’s possible to share when both people can hear-

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s pulled over, a hand on his cheek and a concerned expression on his face. “Sorry,” he tries. Eddie shakes his head, presses his palm more firmly to Steve’s cheek. “Fuck,” he mutters. “‘S stupid. Just… felt alone. I dunno. There’s, like, a million little things you hear every day that you don’t think about, like the way your hands tap the steering wheel when you turn, or the way your clothes shift and rub against each other, and it’s all silent now, and there’s not even music, and-” he takes a deep, shaky breath. Lets it out as evenly as he can. “I just… felt really alone all of a sudden.”

Eddie brushes his thumb along Steve’s cheekbone as he thinks. Suddenly, he grins and moves his hand, shoving a tape into the deck and cranking the sound. He demonstratively puts his hand on the door. Steve laughs and does the same, gasping when he feels the vibrations of the song move through him. He can’t tell notes, but it’s something, and then Eddie carefully reaches for his hand, keeps his grip relaxed until Steve smiles at him and tightens his own fingers around Eddie’s. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, nods, and gets back on the road.

They arrive at his friend’s apartment in no time, and Steve would be jealous at the length of the hug if Eddie didn’t immediately step back to grab Steve’s hand again. Based on his hand motions, he’s introducing Steve.

She asks Eddie something, and he turns bright red, pulling a strand of hair across his face as he glances at Steve before looking back at her and answering.

She invites them in, scribbles on a little chalkboard, and hands it to Steve with a smile. Hi, Steve! My name is Nicole. It’s nice to meet you.

He grins up at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

She takes the chalkboard back, scribbles something else. Eddie tells me you recently lost your hearing. Do you mind me asking about that?

“Not at all,” Steve says, then frowns, somehow just now realizing he doesn’t know the full extent of what happened. “Honestly, all I know is I stood up and got really dizzy, and then I was waking up in the hospital.” He shrugs. “I’ve had a couple of pretty bad concussions, and I guess whatever made me pass out also just… took my hearing.” He shrugs.

Eddie shakes his head, grabs for the chalkboard. Almost. He bites his lip. You passed out, and I wasn’t fast enough. You hit your head on the floor. He looks away, takes a deep breath. I’m sorry.

“That is not your fault, Eds,” Steve tells him firmly. Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, so Steve grabs his chin. “Hey, look at me. Not your fault. I don’t blame you. Okay?”

Eddie shrugs, pointing to himself with a self-deprecating smile, and Steve knows what he’s trying to say. I do.

“Well I don’t,” Steve says. “But if- if you need to hear it. I forgive you, okay?”

Eddie nods, eyes big and wet, and Steve pulls him into a hug.

Eddie suddenly laughs, pulling away to wipe his eyes before saying something to Nicole.

Right. They’re not alone. “Sorry,” he tells her, but she waves him off, handing over the chalkboard again. I think we’ll start on the alphabet today. That way you can at least finger spell what you need, even if it’s slow.

“Sounds good,” he says, and she nods, talking the chalkboard to write the alphabet.

Slowly but surely, she teaches Steve and Eddie the alphabet. They get a little tripped up on some of the letters, most noticeably p and q, until Nicole takes pity on them and makes a p. She uses her other hand to draw a line down both her extended fingers, then tracing her own legs. She taps her thumb, peeking out between the two, and with a mischievous grin, points between Steve and Eddie’s legs.

They share a look and burst out laughing, but they don’t forget those letters again.

By the end of the day, they’ve gotten through the alphabet with enough regularity that Nicole feels they can practice on each other.

Steve pauses before they leave. T-h-a-n-k, then a pause, then y-o-u.

Nicole smiles, presses her fingertips to her lips, then brings her hand down to chest height, palm up. She does the motion again, and Steve copies her, grinning when she nods excitedly.

“Thank you,” he signs and says, grinning even wider when she pulls him into a quick hug before waving at him and Eddie.

They wave back and pile into the van, Steve’s hand in Eddie’s before Steve can practically blink. He smiles, unbearably fond, and squeezes to get his attention before signing, “Thank you.”

Eddie just smiles back, throws the van into reverse, and starts home. 

They practice more while they make dinner, throwing words like spatula and stir and chop around, and Steve didn’t realize learning could be this fun.

He’s watching Eddie stir the broth, hips moving in a little dance to a song only Eddie knows, and his heart is so full, he has to say something before his heart bursts. “I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound incredibly sappy,” he says. “But just… please just listen until the end? And try not to tease me too much.”

Eddie just smiles, grabs his hand and squeezes, and Steve takes a breath before starting.

“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you were there that day, I’m glad you were there when I woke up at the hospital, I’m glad you were there when I realized going home meant being completely alone. I’m glad you made a complete fool of yourself in the hospital lobby, doing charades to let me know I could stay here.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad you have Nicole, because it lets me talk with you easier. I’m glad you never once let me feel like I’m alone, or like I’m going through this alone. I’m glad you’re learning with me. I’m glad you’re making this fun. I didn’t know learning could be fun, but it is with you, and I-” he takes a breath, swallows the three words that want to come out. “I’m glad it’s you,” Steve whispers, “here, at the end of all things.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s hands are cradling his cheeks, wiping away tears. Eddie’s just as teary-eyed, though, and he pulls away, looking for the notebook. Please don’t punch me.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed, to watch Eddie spell something. I l-o-v-

That’s as far as he gets before Steve gasps, understanding, or hoping he understands, and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

He pulls back almost immediately to check that’s correct, that that is what Eddie was trying to say, when Eddie pulls him back in, dinner be damned, crowding him in against the counter and doing his best to lick into Steve’s mouth.

Steve lets him, pulling away for a sharp inhale before diving right back in, fingers tight in Eddie’s hair and the back of his shirt, and there’s a sudden vibration that he just knows means Eddie moans, and suddenly he’s dizzy again, but this time he welcomes it, because this time he’s not passing out; this time, he’s dizzy because he’s drunk on love.

[inkonparchment]

Leon Kennedy x coworker!Reader.

Leon helps you avoid an unwanted date.

Leon is perplexed at the sight waiting for him in the break room.

After sitting crouched over his desk in his office for hours, pouring over the mounds of paperwork, his eyes had glazed over. He had dropped the pen, clattering unceremoniously on the wooden surface as he flexed his fingers to relieve some pain. Leon's headache had returned.

He reaches over to his mug, a dark blue thing with yellow stars dotted across it. A secret santa he got last year although there was nothing 'secret' about it; there was only one person who had a penchant for funky mugs. It's empty now so he pushes himself out of chair, beelining for the break room for a fresh batch of coffee.

And that's how he finds himself standing confused in front of the coffee machine with a steaming cup of coffee left abandoned on the counter. It's obviously your mug, all white with a small doodle of snoopy drinking coffee branded on its front. The creamer stands next to it, cap halfway done. And yet you're nowhere to be found.

He looks up, turns around and through the glass panelled walls that shows the rest of the office, various occupants in their cubicles. You're not amongst them. Maybe you left in a hurry? Leon shrugs, pouring himself a cup, knowing that you made it. Thank god. No one makes it like you do.

His hand reaches for the sugar packets and halts, seeing that the designated space is empty. Leon blows his bangs out of his hair in frustration. He walks over to the small walk-in pantry, twists the handle and opens the door. All of his training goes to hell at this moment as he nearly jumps out of his skin to see you standing inside the dark room.

Confusion etched so clearly on his face, he's only able to say your name incredulously before he's being unceremoniously pushed back with your firm hand against his chest. The door snaps shut and you're hidden again.

"Oh hey Leon." A gruff voice greets him.

Leon turns and is greeted by a huffing and puffing Billy. Oh. He knows Billy. A young, recently inducted agent in the DSO. All glittering smiles, bathed in cologne and the inability of taking a hint. At least that's what Hunnigan has told him.

The complaints about him had recently increased, putting Leon at the receiving end of Hunnigan's rants of how Billy had started to frequent the field support officers floor too much. He likes to camp at your desk. A lot. Which is funny to him since Billy coincidentally never seems to be around whenever Leon is at your desk.

And you locking yourself away in the small pantry suddenly makes sense.

"Billy," Leon says in greeting, nonchalantly moving to where your mug is, hiding it behind him. "Looking for someone?"

Billy pauses, fingers tugging the open collar of his shirt. "Uh yeah how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," Leon shrugged his shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Looking in the wrong place though aren't you?" He gestures around the empty room.

"I could've sworn she came in here," Billy frowns, striding inside and coming to a halt in front of the pantry door.

"I think she went up on the tenth floor," Leon says helpfully, "Something about a meeting."

"Oh." Billy perks up at the information, immediately shuffling out. "Thanks man, I owe you one!"

Leon has to stifle his laugh when he sees Billy practically run to the elevators, waiting to see him turn the corner before he pushes himself off the counter and striding to the pantry.

He opens the door, puts one hand against the frame and leans into it, teasing tone apparenton his tongue. "Avoiding someone, sweetheart?"

You poke your head out under his arm, quickly scanning the room. "Is he gone?"

He looks at you quite amused, "Yeah I sent him to the tenth floor so that should take him a while."

You breathe out a sigh of relief, ducking under his arm and finally walking back into the room, the aroma of coffee greeting you. You head to where your mug is, resuming your activity to when before you saw Billy marching on the floor, head swivelling around like a maniac.

Leon is still staring at you, eyebrows raised in question when you finally look at him.

"What?"

"So you wanna explain what just happened or...?"

You roll your eyes, putting the creamer away. "I'm avoiding him because apparently he's made up his mind that I'm going to be his date to the gala."

The Gala. Leon vaguely remembers Hunnigan mentioning it. It was a few days back when he had come up to the FSO floor, loitering around at your desk and finding himself feel a pang of disappointment when you weren't at your seat.

He must have looked very dejected because Hunnigan had fixed him with a look so knowing and scathing, it almost made him scuttle back off to his office. It didn't bode well for him that you two were desk neighbours. There had been no ounce of subtlety in her tone when she mentioned the upcoming gala and how he should find a date soon.

Leon had deflected, leaning against her desk with a smirk and asking Hunnigan if this was her way of wanting to be asked out by him.

Her aim with a pen to his forehead had been impeccable.

He brushes his bangs back from his eyes. "And I take it you don't want to go with him?"

You make a sour face, pouring coffee in Leon's mug. "I'd rather get over by ten trucks than go anywhere with Billy." You pluck out two sugar packets from the other end where Leon clearly did not look.

Leon is stunned as he watches you pour the two sugar packets in his mug, giving it a quick stir. He's only made his coffee once in front of you and yet you remember how he likes it.

It takes him a second to spur into action as you stand there holding out his mug to him. His fingers brush against yours, lingering for a moment before pulling away, realising he prefers the warmth of your hands than the warm beverage.

Leon chuckles at your words. "I'd say thats a bit much but knowing Billy, that's probably an understatement." He gets entranced by the smile you give him, mind going blank. "Come with me."

You miss the handle of your mug, hand bumping against the snoopy doodle causing some of the liquid to slosh out. Your eyes widen at his words, "What?"

He sips his coffee, hoping his words come out straight. "Would you like to go to the Gala with me?"

Leon holds his breath as your eyes search his face, "You want me...to go with you?"

"Yeah." He waits a beat. "I'll push Billy in the fountain for you."

That gets you to laugh, a loud hearty one, eyes crinkled in joy as Leon feels his stomach flip. So sweet.

You play with the handle of your mug, eyes flitting all over his face, "Yeah um, I'd really like that."

"Okay," He blinks, breaking out in a smile of his own. "I'll pick you up then."

You grab your mug, shyly walking towards the exit and just before you leave, you look over your shoulder, "If you whisper one bad joke during the night, I'll go straight home."

It's his turn to laugh. "I'm not making any promises, sweetheart."

[prettyboykatsuki]

I can just imagine fujo neet reader practicing different sex position with rin to make sure she gets the proportions right.

✮ tags ; fem!reader, sexual tension, rin's pov, RIN IS KIND OF MEAN TO HER BUT HE WANTS HER SO BAD FDKJJS, reader is a fujoshi and bl mangaka, pre-relationship, they work together, part of a ficverse i haven't written yet Sorry, ONE JOKE ABOUT RIN WANTING TO OFF HIMSELF, SUPER SUGGESTIVE LOL 18+

✮ wc ; 3.5k (WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!)

✮ a/n ; i had to do this for my sanity. i promise i will write them a proper fic with them i promise.

You never text Rin.

Not really. Not first at least. It's a new... friendship. Kind of. Sort of. Most of your communication thus far has been through meetings and random in-person chance encounters. Outside of that, Rin will call you since it's faster. If you do "text", it's mostly through twitter DM's.

There's a discord server your fans run, and you pop in there often enough. He's had the invitation extended but declined unilaterally, since he'd rather not see himself fucking Isagi anymore than he already has in his short, miserable career.

It surprised him this morning, seeing your message flash across the top of his screen. Asking, specifically, for him to come over and help you with something related to the new manga you were writing. He had it in his right mind to decline, but after learning it wasn't a doujin for him, he semi-reluctantly agreed.

Rin doesn't know when exactly your relationship to him grew this...comfortable. Inviting him over to your house, begging him for favors, not wincing every time he talks to you. Rin isn't an extrovert but compared to you he's a social butterfly. And your aversion to people in general, Rin thought, would prevent you from doing anything more than squeak at him forever just like you did when he met you.

(Though nothing in his life has been normal since your arrival in it. He's not sure why you would remain unchanged when he certainly hasn't.)

He doesn't know what to feel when you ask him for a favor, and he doesn't know what force of nature compels him to go. If it's morbid curiosity or annoyance or something else even worse.

It was compelling enough to take the train all the way out to Machida - an hour long trip from his own place. His manager hounded him to take you something, so he has a bag of ginseng energy drinks and snacks with him as a gift. He took the bus with his mask on, and then walked all the way to your building.

Your apartment is tucked somewhere classically suburban - attached at the far end of a residential street and behind concrete support beams for a highway just overhead. Cherry blossom trees and other shades of white flowers grow around it in thick patches, making the entrance hard to find. Rin would've had trouble if you didn’t give him details on exactly where to go.

It's an older building, stone walls worn and grass-stained from age. At the gate are groups of old people talking amongst each other as they sort through recycling and trash. All visor hats and sunspots, they fawn over Rin for a long while before he goes in and interrogates him with questions. None of them know him, which is relieving. It quickly graduates to them asking who he's there to visit, if he has a girlfriend or not.

All of them ooh and aah when he mentions your name, say something about being relieved she's found a man so handsome and that Rin should marry you because even though you're a little strange you're a good girl. Rin does not have the time nor energy to correct them - only nods and bows his head and leaves.

On the elevator ride up to your floor, he can't help but think repeatedly that this isn't the kind of place he'd expect you to live. He thought it'd be out in the middle of nowhere, maybe in a damp and broken building.

But this is a nice place with nice people, vibrant and colorful. Totally opposite from what he considers your personality.

Suitable or not, Rin manages to make it to your floor without a hitch.

He finds you, then, as he'd expect. Down a long hall, behind an unassuming white door. When you open it, you're a mess. Your hair completely unkempt, face greasy, a wild look in your eyes and complete surprise in your expression as if you didn't invite him over. You do, however, manage to invite him in without stuttering or stumbling over your words foolishly like you did the first time you spoke to him.

Another surprise is how... clean your living room is. It's lived in but he was expecting more mess in there. Your bedroom is in a similar state, undoubtedly messy but not terrible. Your NEET tendencies finally end up showing when you drag Rin into your office where you draw your manga.

It's not dirty but it's cluttered. There's a pull out sofa on one wall, with a blanket and pillow littered about and pages upon pages of paper sheets with scrapped panels about the floor. One wall has a bunch of post-its with several notes in both English and Japanese, and another has tacked up pieces of art. Both yours and other peoples. He chooses to ignore the ones of him and Isagi, The walls themselves are cream colored and uninteresting and the wood floors are slippery. At the far end of the room is a spread of desks, a PC set-up and a professional looking tablet among various art supplies in stacked boxes.

It's this room you bring Rin into without explaining yourself at all, mumbling and muttering as you give him a place to sit and go back to your work for fifteen silent minutes.

When you're finally finished doing whatever the fuck you were doing, you turn yourself back towards Rin. Bluelight glasses fall down the bridge of your nose as you swivel around in your chair - your sweatpants half pulled up your leg with the other pulled down. You're wearing fuzzy socks with Naruto characters on them.

You stare at him, pulling your glasses off and rubbing your eyes - dark circles under them.

"Uhm," Your voice is clipped and thick with exhaustion. "You came."

Rin deadpans. "You asked me to come."

"I thought you'd say no."

He did too. He doesn't respond back. You chew your lips, already anxious and Rin resists the urge to say something about it.

"Okay. Uhm. Please don't get mad," You start with and then explain, looking away. Your hands pull your sleeves over your palms. "So. Like. For my new series, I'm finally getting to the sex scene but I've never drawn characters with an intense height difference like this. And I need... new reference photos.... and uhm," You rub your feet together on your chair where you sit "Well our height differences and size is the exact one my characters have. So."

Rin stares at you. "So?"

"SoIwaswonderingifyou'dtakereferenceimagesforsexpositionswithme,"

Rin feels his jaw lock. "Slower."

You frown and look away, tucking your chin with embarrassment. "I was uhm, like, wondering if you'd take... take the uhm, sex position reference photos with me, please."

"What?"

You clasp your hands together, immediately prostrating yourself by throwing yourself down the ground. He flinches back, wondering if you're gonna hold onto his leg next.

"Please, please help me. You're the exact height of my seme and you uhm have similar builds and he's doing the most of the legwork. The poses are a little bit hard but I want them to look good or Minami-san will eat me and I'm scared of her, please help me."

"Who is Minami-san?"

You sniffle, on the verge of tears just thinking about it. "My editor. She used to be my fan. She's scary. Please, Rin-kun, please."

"What the hell did you do before?"

You frown at him, big wet puppy-dog eyes.

"It was hard. Sometimes I'd pose with my big stuffed animals and make up the proportions. Oh and usually watched porn and stuff. Sometimes I'd get lucky with stockphotos. But I don’t get the angle exactly right unless I have good references."

Rin wonders if anything you have ever said has processed in your mind before saying it. He doubts it for some reason.

"So," Rin pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes the image of you humping your stuffed animals out of his head. "You're asking me to.. pose with you?"

You nod and chew your lip. "Please, I promise I'd never ask you for this if I wasn't s-scared of Minami-san! Please?"

"I should make you pay me for this," He sneers. You flinch back and close your eyes.

"I'm sorry." You whine wetly, but then open your eyes again anyway. "Please help me."

Rin doesn't know why he helps you. Maybe you're just too pathetic for him to ignore. Maybe he's a masochist. Maybe inhaling the same air as Bachira last week turned him stupid.

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Fine."

__

If Rin didn't believe you before when you told him you make your own references, he'd definitely believe you after you take him to your bedroom.

Your bed is in the center of your room, instead of being pushed against a wall. Large stuffed animals laid in one corner. On both sides of the room, are makeshift digital camera stands and remote-controlled lighting among another remote for said cameras. There's about 4-6 angles from what you explained to Rin, and a few adjustable lights. It's an elaborate set-up and takes the kind of dedication Rin can only imagine a hardcore fujoshi freak like yourself thinking up.

All of this to mostly draw porn of him and his rival. He tries not to think about it too hard because he thinks it's going to give him an aneurysm. Rin sits at the edge of your bed as you adjust each of the cameras individually.

"What do you do if it's not on a bed?"

You flinch like you aren't expecting him to talk. "Uhm. I either simulate as best I can o-or move my things and bed around. It's why I moved my desk to my office."

Rin stares at you. "You take it seriously."

You nod meekly. "Producing high-quality doujin is what made me money, so I have to work hard. Being poor is tough."

If Rin didn't find you so unbearable he might find that awe-inspiring in his own fucked up way.

"Okay. Everything is set-up. Now for the poses," You say, suddenly sparking back to life. Rin sits and watches. "They're having sex on a public beach so the bed and the way the seme sort of sinks into the sand will be good... I think the bridge one is the one we'll do first."

"The bridge?"

You nod, talking in short sentences. But Rin can tell this is where you're comfortable, doing things for this... hobby. Your usual constant embarrassment and shame seem to disappear when it comes to it. It's fascinating like a car crash. "Uhm. You have to stand on your knees and then, I'll lay on my back and arch my back up to meet your... y'know. It'll emphasize the height difference."

Rin stares at you agape. You take the remote control for your cameras in your hands and look at him expectantly.

Rin doesn't know whats wrong with him. Why the hell did he agree to this?

"Do you want me to take my jacket off?"

You nod, surprised. He shrugs the thing off of his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor.

Rin, per your instruction, gets into the position in the middle of the bed. He stands on his knees waiting for you. You join him a minute after, squinting at your phone screen beforehand. He isn't sure what he's expecting as a result of your ask, but he sure is shocked when he finds you placing your feet flat on the bed next to his knees and pushing yourself up for your crotch to meet his.

He knows that’s what you said but your shamelessness proves to be… shocking.

He tries not to let it show. His jaw ticks. His face feels warm but his expression remains neutral all the same. You shift and adjust and don't seem concerned at all - like it doesn't occur to you that this is in any way socially unacceptable. Or it's unfathomable Rin would take advantage of this. That this is weird, or could be interpreted in less than innocent ways. Rin knows you're so out of touch that it probably isn't. That this is, to you, just considered a favor which is partially why he even agrees.

But you're mid-brushing up against his bulge. The angle of your back forms a triangle, your arms laid flat at your sides as you squirm and push. And your expression shifts, deep in thought.

"Uhm, like, would you mind p-putting your hands on my hips? Kind of squeezing tight like it's," You flush this time, but Rin harbors doubt it's about him. "Like it feels good I guess? Like hard, and stuff so you can see the indent."

He's so astonished, he does it on autopilot. Neutral and even. He lets his hands grab your hips and holds tight just as you ask. Your long, loose sweatshirt falls down revealing the soft skin of your tummy. He can see the tops of your underwear, the thin cotton kind that come in 6-packs with a single bow in the middle in a grey color.

You don't seem to care about it. Rin shouldn't either, but his body does seem to care. His brain does. Something is happening in his gut. Anger maybe. Some cheap, frustrated desire to make fun of you.

Instead the words he's been wanting to ask since you proposed this tumble out of his mouth. He stares at you.

"Is this the first time someone's done this with you?"

You jump with a start, but remain in position. You take the pictures first, six clicks in a row before answering.

"H-huh? Why-why are you asking that?"

He doesn't know. Really. And he knows how it sounds. Rin doesn't say anything and you fold under the immense pressure of his gaze.

"S-stop staring," You say, and take a few more pictures, lowering your back just a little but still staying up right. "And no. No one tall enough or with the right physique."

There is another gnawing question, another burning curiosity. He makes his voice as even and unaffected and apathetic as he can. As mean as possible.

"Have you ever even had sex?"

Your eyes blow wide, but you seem to fall for the persona of apathy, curious boredom and cruelty. Worse, you seem a little used to it. You squirm this time and Rin holds you firmly in place. Your voice is small.

"Uhm, like, once I guess. I-it was with a guy, I didn't really date him but he seemed interested in me and I didn't think I'd ever have the opportunity again s-so I did it and I didn't uhm, it wasn't very good or anything." You reply, and he can feel your toes curl in your socks next to him and his brain feels like it'll melt from out of his ears. "Sorry, I don't-don't think you care about that, just uhm, felt like I should explain."

"Yeah," Rin feels dizzy. "Do you need another pose?"

You blink and then nod. "Yeah! Another one kind of like this, but with the legs like uhm, on your chest and my feet closer to your head. With you leaned back a little. Does that make sense? The butterfly position, I think."

Rin swallows something at the back of throat.

He nods, pulling you into position so easily he can heard you gasp. Your legs straighten against his clothed chest, and your sweatshirt falls far enough to let him see your bra. A fabric sports kind, a little worn - just the logo visible. He doesn't say anything about it, your feet resting near his neck. You make a little soft noise.

"This feels a little difficult to be in. Poor uke. Sorry if this one is kind of weird, but can you put your hands, I dunno, on my ass, I guess? I know that's probably too much but I think it'll be a good detail, so please? I'll pay you"

Rin stares at you, teeth gritting so hard he feels the back of his skull throb. "Fine."

Rin, per your request, puts his hands on your ass. It's easy enough, and he doesn't hold too tight. But it's too intimate, too stupidly fucking intimate, and he can feel you. You're hardly paying attention, caught up in your own head with whatever else. Rin is paying too much attention. Like how your sweatpants aren't thick enough to cover the outline of your frumpy cotton panties and how your soft all over. He's going to kill someone. Maybe himself.

Six more clicks and a little noise of satisfaction.

"Okay!!! I think these will turn out so great, and I can use them later too. Just one more. I have a lot of refs for this position, but uhm - I want to see if I can get the proportions correct, so if you'd please lay down," You tell him with such genuine excitement he can't find it in himself to say anything horribly cruel. "I'll be doing most of the work this time. I just-just need to see how uke will compare..."

You mutter something to yourself as Rin lets you down and lays himself down on your bed. You sit next to him for a long while, squinting at your phone. Rin stares at you as you. Wonders if he's gone completely insane, and tries to ignore the doom of the impending hard-on cozying itself in his pants.

Unceremoniously, you find yourself perching over Rin's lap. Not bothering to give him any pretense, it's the one thing about today that's really getting him.

"Oh, I need my hands for this," You give him the remote and stare down at him wide-eyed, over his lap. This has to be hell. "Could you take the photos this time?"

He closes his eyes and counts to ten and wonders if a concussion has made him insane. "Hm."

You brighten and Rin feels his chest go tight. "Thanks!"

Rin just nods, his mouth drying as you start to move and pose. A picture with your hands next to his head, and anothe r where you're sat up - your hands at your sides. Rin obediently takes pictures when you ask, his entire body tensing every single time you move.

"Okay, last one," You say. This time, you put your hands on his chest. Just the one. You must have something specific in your head that you're wanting to recreate. You bend down close, looking down at him as you do - your other hand clenched.

Rin looks up at you. He should not be thinking about you in any way. He's looking at the way your lips curve and plump and at your bare skin and your dark circles and your stupid licensed anime hoodie. He just gapes at you in confusion and mystique. He's around so many weirdos. It's not like there's anything special about you. You’re just another freak who makes porn of him. Plenty of people do that.

A loser and an idiot with no sense of self-preservation. There's nothing special about this, but Rin hasn’t been able to convince himself of that.

You stare down at him.

"Take a picture?"

Rin looks at you. Studies your expression. You seem like you're thinking. It's the only oppurtunity he has to pry.

"Did you want to ask something?" He says first. “You’re not hard to read.”

You startle, then nod. Your hand is on his chest. It's warm, and smaller than his.

"Oh, I-I guess I was wondering about what you asked me earlier. And uhm, like, I don't know. If you ever did anything. Your relationships aren't in the media and fans speculate but," You fall flat on your words. "I guess I was just curious."

Rin hates this question. It's why he never answers it. Why he hates being called a hearthrob, always too shallow and too personal for his taste.

"Nothing long term or serious. It was most for physical relief." Rin says, almost on autopilot. “Not that’d you know what that’s like.”

Your eyes widen. Rin feels his hands twitch, watching your expression finally grown conscious of him. Lust spreads through you like honey and Rin can see it in how you look. You squirm in his lap. He's not usually so aggressive, not usually one to care about sex in any important way. Not one to brag about something so unbelievably inane and trivial.

But it's bothering him, just how much he's fighting the urge to pin you down and fuck you. You of all people. It's not like him. Rough sex is whatever, but it's bothering him how little any of it seems to register in your head anymore like it once did. You could barely breathe the first time you met.

He doesn't know why he cares that you don’t anymore. He doesn’t give a shit about anything related to you

But the thought nothing seems to bother you anymore bothers him.

"Oh... I see. That's uhm, interesting. I b-bet you have a lot more experience than me. Maybe it'd be a good thing to keep you around for that kind of refernce too," You joke.

Rin lets his hand slip up to your hips without asking, not bothering to hide it anymore. His head feels with nothing but stupid useless thoughts. Thoughts of fucking you in your old, worn clothes and stained shirts and comfortable cotton underwear. Thoughts of your hands clutching at his shoulder all weepy with desire and need and stupidity - your big wide eyes bleary and sensitive. It's cruel how relentlessly he thinks about taking advantage of all your differences. Of how unathletic and awkward and unused to everything you are.

It's horrible just how much he's staving off his own arousal about it. Maybe you're strange habits are infecting him, making him strange too strange. All Rin can think about uselessly is how easily he could put you in your place. Fix you in some strange way. You’d be his to fix and you’d cry and weep and want to run away. Rin wouldn’t let you, keep you pinned and caged like an animal.

His throat feels tight. What is fucking wrong with him today?

Is he that pent up? He stares at you, and gets some passing feeling that there is more to it than that. He closes his eyes.

"Whatever," He says, letting go. You don't seem to notice it again, how thick his voice is getting "Are you almost done?"

You nod and smile. "Yes. Thank you."

Rin feels his heart tug and seethes. “You're welcome."

[universalitgirlsblog2]

💗🌺YOU DON'T LIKE YOURSELF? CREATE A NEW VERSION OF YOURSELF💗🌺

💗INTRODUCTION

The world needs to accept as you are. no ! The world does not owe you anything. People do not owe you anything. We are changing everyday , we are always trying to improve ourselves. No person is the same person as he or she was from the day that they were born. Everything will be okay when you make it okay. Your life is in your hands. Nobody is coming to save you. Not your mom , your dad , your spouse , your children etc. You want your life to change? You have to change.

🌺CREATE ANOTHER VERSION OF YOURSELF ( ALTER EGO)

Beyonce says that whenever she goes on stage she is not Beyonce , she is Sasha Fierce. David Goggins grew up in poverty, gained alot of weight but then he lost weight and ran marathons. They all say to create a new version of yourself.

Liz said that she is lazy , doesn't like attention which comes from social media and stay her in bed all day but all this will get her nowhere so she created a new version. Somebody that is confident , uses her platform , goes after her goals , gets up and goes to gym and somebody with a very hard mindset and tough skin . You need to create a tough skin especially if you are an influencer or a celebrity.

If you start acting like your alter ego , you will become like her. Ask yourself . What does the higher version of yourself look like ? How does she / he look like ? What is she / he wearing ? Who do they date ? What is their career ? How do they spend their time ? What is their hairstyle ?

💗START TAKING SMALL STEPS TOWARDS GREATNESS

Before doing anything , ask yourself , will my highest version do this? If you are eating sugary food, ask yourself If your highest version would eat that dessert. If you don't feel like going to the gym , ask yourself If your highest version would skip gym or go to gym.

🌺WHAT'S YOUR PASSION/ BEST CAREER OPPORTUNITY?

Find your own passion . No one can tell you what your passion is , you need to find it .

God gives us passion because that's what we are supposed to do.

If you have no idea about your passion , what am I really good at ? Every single person is good at something . It might be as small as cooking, managing team or very much into social media.

💗GET HONEST WITH YOURSELF/ STOP SUGAR-COATING

You can't be always kind to yourself, sometimes you need a reality check . Also , ask yourself what your best version of yourself would do ? Go for walk. Listen to podcast.

🌺PRACTICE THE LAW OF ASSUMPTION AND TRUST GOD/THE UNIVERSE

Talk to God as if he is your best friend. Ask God and the universe for the things you want. Don't expect help if you don't ask for help. God puts people in our life to help us , to upgrade us.

💗LET GO OF TRYING TO CONTROL AND START TRUSTING THAT IT WILL HAPPEN.

Ask once , be specific and practice gratitude before asking. Start assuming like the world is designed for you to succeed .

🌺GET INTO THE MINDSET OF : WHAT WOULD THE HIGHEST VERSION OF MYSELF DO ?

You walk into a room , you have a meeting or a presentation. You feel nervous. Ask yourself : what would the highest version of myself do ? Shoulders back , walk into the room and start talking. Wherever you go , think that everyone is in love with you , it will make you confident.

You have to tell yourself affirmations . Look into the mirror and say " I am powerful . I am amazing. I am going to kill this day ." Ask God to help you and stand by me .

💗ACCEPT THAT RECOVERY IS NOT LINEAR AND BE GRATEFUL FOR THE BAD DAYS.

It takes accountability. Going through the progress of looking at yourself differently.

🌺FALL IN LOVE WITH THE PROGRESS , NOT THE GOAL.

Know that the bad day is a blessing. How will we appreciate good days if we have no bad days ?

If you want an expensive watch , the watch itself doesn't fulfill you , it's the process towards the watch & the anticipation. If you want to lose weight , going to gym regularly and seeing the scale going down, Feeling healthier and better. That is the process. That is happiness.

💗STOP TALKING ABOUT IT AND START ACTUALLY DOING IT

Do not tell anyone about your ambitions .Show them what you are doing .

If you tell big dreams to small minded people , they will never support you because they do not understand. They have not done it themselves

🌺DON'T TALK ABOUT IT UNTIL IT IS DONE.

The big issue with people is that they want to talk before it happened. Why are you putting evil eye on yourself?

" What people don't know they can't ruin "

Be private. You never know who is praying for your downfall.

Don't talk about things you want to accomplish before you accomplished them.

[surielstea]

Sneaking Away

Based off this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Vanserra!Reader

Summary: Reader sneaks from the forest house and goes to her mates for Starfall.

Warnings: Smut | 18+ only | p in v | cream pie | dirty talk | nipple play | wing play | slight bondage | exactly 2 uses of (Y/n)

A/N: so I kind of totally strayed from the original request but it was giving me writers block so I completely changed it— the element of sneaking out is still there, hope you guys still enjoy 💙

Starfall was just about to begin and I was horribly late to the party Rhysand had graciously invited me to.

My father had caught me in my most expensive dress and asked where I was going before I got the chance to sneak from the Forest house. I had to conjure up some lie he'd be happy to hear, which was harder than it seemed. I ended up telling him I was going out with a noble named Antony, a made-up male who wasn't Illyrian and definitely not one of the most dangerous men in Prythian, nowhere near someone like the Shadow Singer, who I was going to see in reality.

The High Lord of Autumn had practically demanded he met this male first but I managed to convince him that I was meeting him at a party that I was already late to.

Needless to say, it took me an hour to get out of the overbearing household, then another half hour to escape from my father's spies and maids constantly whispering in his ears.

Once I arrived at the House of Wind I felt the weight on my shoulders lift, and I was actually able to breathe. It was all so much simpler here, high in the sky with people who cared more about my wellbeing than how maidenly I was.

I had noticed the Shadow Singer across the room before he saw me, a rare occurrence that meant his mind was elsewhere. His back was turned to me but those wings were unmistakable. I approached him as silently as I could, my heels betraying me because as soon as I was only a yard away shadows curled around his ears and he whirled around, eyes immediately locking with mine.

I grinned wildly as he took in my appearance, my deep green dress with bedazzling emeralds cascading down the skirt, the fanned-out bottom of the gown morphing into a waterfall of jewels. The fit was tight around all the right places and the slit in the side revealed high up my bare thigh, his gaze not missing a fraction of the skin I exposed.

He didn't take a long time analyzing my dress before his gaze snapped back to my face, my smile, my eyes lined with kohl.

"You done staring?" I tease with a tilt of my head.

"No," He said and I giggled, closing the distance between us with a few strides and wrapping my arms around his torso, my head leaning against his chest as I hugged him tightly.

"I missed you," I murmur and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

"It's only been a few days," He reminds and I lift my head, looking up at him with a hurt expression. His smile turned soft. "I missed you too," He whispered and I leaned up, interlocking our lips for the first time in what felt like a year. My hold around him tightened and his hands came to my face, one on the nape of my neck and the other on my jaw, holding me so delicately like if he let me go I'd shatter.

"Y/n!" Cassian shouts from the distance and I pull away from Azriel, he's hesitant about letting me slip away but reluctantly he gives in and lets me turn to face the other Illyrian who was coming in from the deck with a bright grin on his face. "It's been years," He groans, approaching the two of us.

"It's been a month," I correct.

"Same thing," He grumbles, before wrapping his arms around my torso and hugging me tightly, I grin as he stands to his full height, my feet dangling off the ground as he squeezes me tight.

"Don't you look beautiful," He places me down and I do a small twirl, Azriel scowls at Cassian as if the male might steal me away, so silently I gravitate closer towards my mate and intertwine our hands.

"Why, thank you, my lord," I curtsy teasingly and he clicks his tongue, annoyed.

"You know I hate it when you call me that," He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and I only grin.

"Cass, come back—" A familiar voice shouts from outside and I perk up.

"Rhys!" I leave Azriel's side and rush towards the High Lord. His eyes lock on mine and a smile immediately comes across his features. I practically jump into his arms and he catches me with ease, spinning us around before placing me back down onto the ground. 

"I missed you so much," I tighten my hold around him. It's been fifty years since I've seen the male, fifty long tortuous years while he was stuck with that witch Under The Mountain.

"It's been too long," He sighs, hugging me back with the same tightness.

"When Az told me you were back I nearly grew a pair of wings and flew here myself," I confess and he chuckles, setting me down with a soft smile.

"You look ravishing, all this for me? I'm flattered" He smirks playfully and Azriel's hands come down onto my shoulders possessively.

"Fifty years really hasn't changed you," I sigh with a childlike smile.

"Careful Rhys, they're mated now. I already had a go at her and Az nearly bit my head off," Cassian intones from my side and Azriel all but growls at the red-siphoned male.

"Don't be ridiculous, she wouldn't come all the way from the Autumn Court for you, Cassian," A familiar voice chimes in and Morrigan appears at my other side. I squeal and wrap my arms around her shoulders as she hugs me back tightly. "I love this dress," She gasps as I back away, allowing her to take in my full outfit. "Mind if I take it off you later?" She winks and I flush.

"Gods, does everybody want you?" Azriel grumbled and I looked back at him with a sly smirk.

"Don't hate the player," I wink and he shakes his head in disbelief.

A giggle sounded and I had only just now realized there was someone I didn't recognize standing beside Rhys. My brows rose a fraction as I laid my eyes upon the female, she had light brown hair and eyes so blue they almost seemed lined with starlight. Her dress was gorgeous, and she was even prettier. But it wasn't her beauty that shocked me, it was the obvious thread between her and Rhysand, a golden tether intertwining their very souls. It seemed so clear they were mates, but the way she looked at him made it apparent she had no idea.

"You must be Feyre, Az mentioned a new female joining our male-centric group," I tease and the High Lord grumbles a curse beneath his breath, she smiles softly and takes my outstretched hand, shaking it. "I've heard plenty about you," I flash a polite smile and she returns it.

"Good things I hope," She says and my eyes flick to Rhys, then back to her.

"There's only good things to talk about," Morrigan intones and Feyre tosses her a grin.

"I'm Y/n, the High Lord of Autumn's daughter," I explain and her brows shoot up.

"You're Lucien's sister," She gasped and I nodded with a grin.

"You know Lu?" I tilt my head.

"He, he's my friend," She says her gaze flicking between me and Azriel, his hands on my shoulders, the invisible tether between us that I see between her and Rhysand.

"You guys are, connected," She murmurs and I chuckle.

"Mates, but yes," I correct and her eyes widened further.

"Azriel didn't mention anything," She mutters in apology and I wave her off.

"It's quite alright, he likes his secrets, and I'm technically not allowed to date outside of my court," I explain. "My father wants to keep the lineage, pristine," I huff and her brows twitch together, clearly concerned.

"But you're mates, isn't that an unbreakable bond?" She asked, the curiosity evident in her eyes.

"That's enough questions for now Feyre," Rhysand's hand tightens on her shoulder.

"But," She looked to me curiously then back to him.

"C'mon, Starfall's starting," He gestures her towards the balcony.

"It was nice meeting you," She gives me a small wave and I return it.

"You too," I grin.

Once she was gone I whirl around to face Azriel. "You didn't tell her about me?" I frown up at him. He shrugs.

"I figured the ring on my finger was enough to prove I'm yours," He said, leaning down and pecking my forehead. I melt into his touch, throwing my arms around his neck. "How long can you stay?" He murmurs and I sigh at the idea of leaving.

"Probably a few hours, Eris is covering for me until I get back," I explain and he scowls at the mention of my eldest brother.

"Tell him you're not coming back, just stay here forever," He groans into my shoulder and I smile at the idea, but my grin falters when I remember my mother and my brothers. They didn't deserve to suffer so greatly alone. When Amarantha had come to take over the Autumn Court, Azriel risked his life by showing up at the forest house and taking me to Velaris where she'd never find us. I hated myself for not thinking to warn Eris or at least my own mom. I felt as if I owed them for it because they endured tortures I could only imagine while I stayed safe with my mate for forty-nine long years.

"You know I can't," I sigh. "I love them, no matter how twisted my brothers are they're my family," I say, backing away and looking up at him.

"I'm your family too," He argues and a smirk graces my features.

"Whatever you say, Azriel Vanserra," I tease and his gaze hardens.

"If you call me that again I'm leaving you," He warns and I gasp dramatically before that expression of shock turns into a grin.

"You couldn't if you tried, connected for life remember?" I say, pulling at the bond between us and he groans as if it's a newfound sore on his heart. "I can't believe you fell in love with a Vanserra," I taunt, lifting up and pressing a kiss to his lips which he eagerly returns.

"You never shut up do you?" He grumbles. "You only have a few hours, do you want to watch the stars or find a better way to use that mouth of yours?" He asks and by the look in my eyes, he already knows the answer.

My dress falls to the ground with the clacking of jewels. I step out of the pool of silk now around my feet and look up at him with a smile. I watch as his throat bobs up and down with a thick swallow, his eyes taking in every bare inch of my skin that wasn't covered up by my lingerie the color of midnight. I rarely wore Night Court colors, so this, only for him to see, was a dream come true. "Like what you see?" I tease.

"Yes, I like it very much," He confesses in all seriousness, then, as if he can’t control himself any longer, he surges forward, crashing his lips onto mine. His lips were hungry, his hands coming to my jaw, his thumb pulling at my lower lip and forcing my mouth open for his tongue. I take everything he gives me greedily, my own tongue meeting his in a dance as his hands travel down my waist, my hips, all the way to the backs of my thighs where he finds purchase to hoist me up into his arms.

"You have no idea what you do to me," He confesses into my mouth while walking us towards his bed. I bring my hand down his chest to his hardened length straining against the fabric of his pants and I smile teasingly.

"I think I have some idea," I hum, rubbing down the budge and he grunts, I continue the movement, pressing harder each time until he got frustrated with how much I was teasing, practically throwing me down onto the bed and quickly mounting over me, his hand coming to the hem of my bra.

"As much as I love seeing you in this color, I need to rip it off you," He confesses and I smirk, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes. He mirrored it, then pressed his lips back to mine.

I was already unbuttoning his shirt while he settled between my open thighs. He had unclasped my bra and pulled it off, the lace being thrown onto the other side of the room. I free him from his button-up, pulling it off his muscular arms, his chest left bare.

I grin wildly into our kiss as rough, scarred hands stoke over every expanse of bare skin, my arms, my back, my waist, and finally my breasts. I sighed at the sensation, his callouses brushing over sensitive nipples. I moan as he rolls them between his fingers, flicking over them causing me to whimper into his mouth. He smiles at the discovery of my sensitivity and moves away from my lips and down my neck, my collarbone, then to my breast, taking it into his mouth while his other hand continues its work.

I arch into the intense pleasure as he swirls his tongue around the peaked bud, and when he lightly nips at it my breath hitches, arousal flooding my panties as he continues his sweet torture. "Az, it's too much," I murmur, my hands coming to his hair and attempting to pull him away but he only grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, rendering me tied down.

His tongue continues its wicked movements making me writhe beneath him pitifully, but he doesn't relent. "Az," I whimper, my words slowly turning into incoherent mumbles and moans. He softly bites at my nipple, pulling at it as he backs away and I'm forced to suppress a scream.

So slowly, he takes off my panties, pulling them down my thighs and off my ankles. I tug at my wrists but shadows cluster and tie them tight to the bed. He frees himself from his pants as well, wasting no time as he aligns his impressive member with my entrance.

"You're making such a mess baby." He swipes two fingers through my folds, gathering an embarrassing amount of arousal before smearing it down onto my clit, my breath hitching at the stimulation. A smirk curves his lips as he watches me lose myself after he's barely even touched me. He gathers more of my fluids and lathers his length with it, lubing his cock for an easy entrance. I clenched around nothing, the apex of my thighs pulsating with a need to be filled.

"Az, inside," I murmur, those are the only words I can manage, I was already too stimulated to form full sentences.

"Yeah? You want me to fill you up?" He asks and I nod helplessly.

"Please," I whine. His smirk turns predatory, his tip prodding at my entrance and my cunt twitched, aching to be driven into.

"This okay?" He looks down at me and I nod with a soft mumble. "Words, use your words," He encouraged but I was a mess of whines and tears.

"Yes, please, yes," I manage to get out and his eyes swap love with lust and suddenly he's pushing into me, stretching me out around him and hitting every spot, filling every crevice, pushing me to that edge.

"Az," I nearly scream, my nails digging hard into my palms as I arch, without the use of my hands, I'm left writhing and jolting like an injured animal, prey about to be consumed by its predator.

"Fuck you're so tight around my cock baby," He gritted out, going deeper and deeper while noises slip from my lips involuntarily the farther he goes.

"It's too much," I cry but he doesn't stop, no, he goes faster.

"You begged for this, remember?" He purrs into the shell of my ear. I release a lewd moan as he hits that familiar bundle of nerves that makes me feral. "There?" He hummed and I nodded eagerly. He took his chance and began to abuse that spot nestled so deep inside of me, his thrusts making my puffy, pink folds throb for more, craving that gratification.

He lifted one of my legs up, over his shoulder and met my silent wish, the new position creating an entirely new intense angle.

He continued to pound into my leaking pussy, fluids dripping down my thighs, transferring onto his cock, the wet slap of his balls against my ass making me mewl. "You're so, fuck, so big," I gripe and he smiles against my jaw, continuing his forceful injections as he says, "Poor girl, can only think about my cock, isn't that right?" His hand gropes at my breast before I can even reply, resulting in a guttural moan. He knocks into me deeper, father, harder and it felt so damned good, he was rewriting my definition of pleasure.

"Yeah? Just a mess for me aren’t you my good girl," He crooned, his lips so close to my ear I could feel his breath against it, his teeth lightly nipping at my earlobe.

His hand leaves my breast and travels the expanse of my stomach until eventually reaching my neglected clit, his thumb flicking over it and making gasps of both relief and pain. His thumb switched to tight, torturous circles and I lost all cognitive abilities, he left me defenseless.

"M'close," I warn with teary eyes, looking up at him with helpless devotion.

"Already?" He taunts as experienced hands continue their cruel work, my arousal drenching his fingers but he doesn't seem to care.

"Mhm," I nod with a pout.

"It's okay, come all over my cock," He impels and I was not going to disobey such an appealing demand. He leans down and his mouth returns to my breast, flicking his tongue over it in a similar way he's doing with my clit, creating an explosive feeling of passion.

I reach my climax with his name on my lips, white-hot ecstasy searing through me like a wave crashing, starting at my core and blooming through the rest of me with an unexplainable euphoria that ripped me into a haze of pleasure.

Once I came down from my high he didn't stop, he didn't even slow down. I bit into my lower lip at the intense pain, the overstimulation pushing me over my limit and he delighted in it, loved to see the way I squirmed beneath him. I pulsed around him, walls fluttering against his width as he moved past my perfect spot and bottomed out, his base pressing against mine. He groaned as I contracted around him, reveling in the way my tight cunt hugged his length like a perfect little sleeve.

"Fuck, love," He panted in a wolfish tone, losing himself in the pleasure of it all. "Touch my wings," He whispered and I regained a conscious at that, I had been wanting to forever but he never let me, always pinned down my wrists instead. Shadows slipped from my hands, showing he was serious.

I waste no time before brushing the back of my fingers against the thin membrane of his right wing, my other hand going into his hair. His cock twitches inside of me and his head falls onto my shoulder. I smile at my newfound power, trailing a feather-light touch over a long scar and he whimpers my name into my ear. I clench around him tightly at the sound, his thrusts turning slow and lazy as he approaches release.

I map my fingers closer to his back, finding a central vein that pulsed with life near where his wing began. I pressed my thumbpad to it and he groaned, his cock twitching. "Fuck, baby, let me come inside of you," He pleads.

"Please, fill me up Az," I whine and he meets my request quickly, his warm seed spurting into me, painting my walls white. He came for what felt like forever until he finally pulled out, laying down beside me with a huff. I curled into his side, clenching my legs together in order to keep his release inside of me, mixing with my own.

He turns on his side to look at me, gathering the blankets and throwing them over the both of us.

"I have to go soon," I whisper and he sadly smiles tiredly down at me.

“No, no let me live in denial until it’s time,” He pulls me closer to him, my chest pressing to his. I melt into him, leaning my head on his chest to hear his heart beating so softly against his ribs, a steady beat that oddly brought me comfort.

"I love you." His confession patches over whatever was broken before. I lean upward and press my lips to his, his arm slithering up my bare back and pushing me into him.

"I love you too, Az."

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[alwaysshallow]

@bunnyreaper's secret santa thing; I had the pleasure to write for @cooliofango ❤️ I hope you're gonna have the best time reading this, love.

AO3 VERSION

Simon isn't there—that's the first thing you notice, when you wake up.

You think it's odd; he always sticks around, especially in the morning. Either he is reading something in bed, a book or an article, or tries to wake you up, softly, kissing your arm, if it was past nine in the morning.

Right now, even his side of the bed is cold, so he had to leave at least an hour ago, maybe more. You get up with a slight frown on your face, multiple questions in the back of your mind, what possibly could bring Simon out of bed. There's many thoughts, and they aren't really positive; usually if he had to leave, it was something military related. A missile missing, someone to rescue, intel to get or secure.

Being with Riley made you realize how fucked up the world is and how many times it needs to be saved. This time though, in theory, he has vacations that he asked for. Holidays with his girlfriend, he said, which caused you to grin like crazy one, since you loved this term. His girlfriend, his significant other with whom he decided to spend time with, even if he doesn't like holidays.

It's main reason why you aren't really doing anything festive this year; out of respect to him. Sure, you spend more time together, you plan to watch movies tonight, make some food, but nothing really related to Christmas. No lights, no tree, nothing what could possibly trigger his memory with the holidays and make the time worse than it already was.

But now, your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, and your plans are under a big question mark. You don't even know where he is, if he is here, in your shared house that you've decided to buy a few months ago.

"Baby?" you call out, looking around. There's a few boxes laying on the ground, door is wide-open; if you wouldn't know any better, you'd assume that somebody broke in. Knowing your boyfriend though, how he secured the house... hell, it takes only one wrong move and alarm goes off, as Simon said once, shortly after he installed it.

So, door wide-open, bringing in the cold, clear indicator that he actually is here somewhere. And, sooner than later, you'll see him.

You prefer sooner than later, though, so you go through the door, just to see your man with a tree—Christmas tree, to be precise—with shocked expression on his face. Then, he puts it down, just to sneak his arms around you, tight. Just like he loved to do, practically from the start of your relationship.

For a military man, he is very touch starved, and you try every time to give him the love he deserves.

"You didn't wake me," you murmur into his broad chest, at which he chuckles. You look up at him, seeing his brown eyes sparkling.

"Sorry, love. Had to take care of some things," he says, his hand caressing your back delicately. "But 'm here now. Let's go to bed, yeah?"

"Oh, no, no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I want to know why there's a Christmas tree here. And those boxes? Seems like decorations to me, Mr. Riley."

He acts like you caught him red handed on something; Simon looks away and sighs, just to look at you a few seconds later with a semi-guilty look on his face. You have to hold back a laugh; he seems so stressed about something simple, it's adorable.

"I don't like Christmas," he starts, playing with your hair. "But I know you like 'em. Your eyes sparkle every time you see this shit, lights, trees, everythin' and—"

"—Simon, we don't have to—"

"—let me finish." He looks at you, a bit sternly, so you nod. You have to listen to him, especially if he asks you to. "And I just can't do this to you. Take it away from you. 'm a grown man, it's time to change some things. 'specially those hurtful ones."

You gnaw at your bottom lip, silent for a few seconds, as you try to collect your thoughts about this situation. It's hard not to cry right now, given how he overcomes his own weaknesses, just for you. Just for the both of you, so your future will be brighter.

"You are," you cup his cheeks into your hands, "the best man I've ever, ever met. I'm so lucky to have you, you know? A man that's willing to spend Christmas with me the traditional way, to

“You can't say this shit to me,” he warns, his voice almost a whisper. You raise your eyebrow, but you don't stop kissing his jaw, even when he sighs.

"Because that's so bad? Or because that's the truth and you'll blush any second?" you ask teasingly, at which he rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips. To see his smile, to see how happy you can make him... you cherish every moment like that, knowing his history. Knowing how hard it was, how hard it still is because demons doesn't go easily.

Yet, you see the progress. His battle, to be more open, to allow himself to be more vulnerable at least around you.

“You’re gonna make me even more addicted," he explains to you, kissing your face a few times. He bangs with his nose against your eyeglasses, but he doesn't really seem to mind. "And I’m already weak. It's like... you're something that I’m not immune to. Everyone will see that later, on that Christmas party.”

He doesn’t say he loves you. That would be crazy, he thinks; every time he told someone he loves them, they died. He doesn't want it to happen with you, not when he didn't think of an idea how to possibly save you, keep you safe and locked, close to his heart.

But he can’t deny that you have him wrapped around your finger and you always will. Task Force 141 knows about you, they even invited you two to the Christmas party later, but the l-word has to wait. You know that he loves you anyway; maybe he doesn't say it, but his actions shows you enough love. And, he has other words—be safe, you know I care about you.

It speaks louder than simple I love you but he knows he's gonna say it. He has to, even for your sake.

"That's good. I love you being addicted." You grin, hugging him even tighter. "Because I'm addicted to you as well. To my big, wonderful boyfriend. Now... about those Christmas decorations."

You wouldn't think that decorating your shared house with Simon would be so fun and chaotic in the same time. Your boyfriend does the lights—since his height abilities are just insane—and you are basically running around with snowmen, reindeers and other creatures that you somehow can associate with winter. Riley also gives you disapproval looks from time to time, telling you to dress yourself properly, as you're just on your pyjamas; it ends up in you being in his big, warm hoodie, since you don't listen.

It's like everything you dreamed for, in domestic matter.

The best is taking care of the tree, though. You two have different ideas—yours with doing it in two colors that compliment each other, red and gold for example, which would give the glamour vibe of the house. Or, Simon's idea which is complete chaos. He looks so happy with placing the ornaments, that you don't tell him about color theory, you don't suggest making it less colorful either.

You just put everything just like he is, with instinct, and when he asks about your opinion, you can't help but smile widely and praise him for being creative. His enjoyment gives you the time of your life, honestly.

"You do it like it's in your blood," you say, laughing happily when he gives your cheek a big, wet kiss. His arms locks around you automatically, his lips dropping a bit lower.

"'st because of you. My girl," he purrs. "Maybe we should take a break and eat somethin', eh? Something Christmas-y."

"Christmas-y?" you repeat, observing with a small smile stomach how he drags you over to the couch, towering over you. He has absolutely no problem with crashing you with his weight, which feels so good considering how warm he is. "What would you like?"

"Anything my woman wants, I'll eat. My civilian woman."

You can't help the sensation of your heart fluttering at this view; at Simon kissing your knuckles, at Simon being so affectionate. You are sure that you haven't seen him like this before, not this open with his feelings.

"Yours. That civilian woman, for a superordinary man," you say, quietly.

“My civilian woman.” Simon’s eyes shine as he repeats your words, a light smirk forming as he gazes down at you. You really are gorgeous, so beautiful as you're there in his arms. "'m not superordinary, but I guess I'll take it."

He reaches over to remote, turning off the light in the room. Now, all that’s illuminated is the moonlight and sparkling, multicolor Christmas lights, casting a pale ray of light in the darkness.

Before he loses himself in your eyes, he leans over and presses his mouth to yours. It’s a slow, quiet, yet passionate kiss—one that sparks a fire in both your souls.

"That sounds very dorky, if you think about it," you chuckle quietly, still keeping his gaze. His brown eyes are fixed on yours, glimmering so gently, you can't help but be lost in them. God, it's even better when he turned off the light. You don't see each other properly, but the dark figures are adding everything to your imagination, when you continue this slow kiss.

You can only hear your lips smacking against each other.

“You’re perfect to me,” he says, his voice husky as he gazes down at you. You make his heart flutter. You always do, but lately, those butterflies have turned into something else, as he told you a dew days ago. "The most perfect woman in the world. Even if it's cheesy, as you say."

"You're such a cheesy man, Riley," you whisper, as you smile at his sudden comment how you are perfect to him. Knowing that he's not the best with words, and still says something like this, was just the most important thing for you. "But I like that in you. Just as much as your soft spot for those romcoms we watch. Even if you call them sappy and cringe," you say, closing your eyes.

"They are sappy and cringe. But it's our type of sappy and cringe," he murmurs into your skin, burying his face in your neck. Right in this moment, he doesn't seem to care about anything else.

And you don't care about anything else either, when you have him right by your side. Safe and secure, far from deployment, far from all those dangerous things probably just waiting for him out there.

"I love you," he whispers.

And you know you have your gift.

[pileofboneswrites]

LOVER BOY_headcanons.strangerthings

dating eddie munson headcanons

SUMMARY — relationship eddie headcanons

A/N — i just wanna say a quick thank you to everyone who liked my other eddie headcanons post, i wasn't expecting all the love, but i appreciate it immensely :))

MASTERLIST | BACK

when he likes someone, he thinks he's being really subtle, but he's not

him, a stuttering, nervous wreck; "uh hey, cool shirt"

you, deadpan; "it's your shirt, that you gave me to wear, because you thought i'd look cute in it"

always tries to impress you in silly ways

"wanna see how fast i can run?"

"bet i can jump and hit that sign without running"

"i caught you a squirrel because you said they were cute that one time"

is touch starved

as such, he will always be touching you in some capacity; hand on your knee while in class, hand on your thigh or fingers interlaced with yours while driving, he will sit on you if there's nowhere for him.

when you hug him, kiss him, or cuddle with him he will hold on and refuse to let you go until you're late, like really late, you'd have to leave ten minutes ago late.

is big on pet names when you're alone, but mostly calls you by your last name or a shortened version of your name when in public

he's big on baby, sweetheart, dollface.

angel and prince/princess are reserved for when he's fucked up royally, or you're sad or sleepy.

will touch everything you own

perfume/cologne sitting on your dresser? sprayed himself in the face with it the first time he picked it up, but really liked how it smelled so he puts a spitz on every time you leave him alone in your room. just spent the day at the pool and he needs to shower at yours? he will use your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion and even your deodorant "do you want me to stink? :(". every time he comes in he finds something new to play with. old stuffie under your bed? he's carrying it around/hugging it/holding it until he leaves. trinkets on the top of your bed frame? he'll make them talk to each other when he's bored.

has a hard time sleeping when you're not close

he and sleep have rarely ever been on the same page, so he finds things to do to occupy his time, so when he's in a relationship that usually means he's dragging you along with him; be it going for a swim at 2am at lovers lake, a quick trip to the gas for snacks, or just straight up falling ungracefully through your window and crawling into bed with you to try and grab a couple hours of sleep (while simultaneously scaring the shit out of you because you were already sleeping).

because of the above, he will constantly nap around you while you're hanging out

you're his safe space, he spends most of his time in your presence passed out; laying on his back on the floor with his legs tossed over the side of your bed with his feet tucked under your thigh while you study, arms crossed over his chest while you're head's in his lap as you read out loud to him – he swears he's awake but every so often he lets out a soft snore, sitting on the couch watching a romcom with his head on your shoulder as he struggles to keep his eyes open, literally any time you touch his head/hair he's out like a light.

100% is glued to your side and tells everyone you're his best friend as well as his gf/bf

he goes on errands with you and spends 99% of his free time with you, he drags you along to band practice — which you usually use as an opportunity to feed baked goods to his bandmates (who absolutely adore you for it), when he's working you usually sit around with him passing him tools as he needs them — "uh need 9/16 wrench–" and it's already in your hand like you read his mind.

when you're not around, brags about you to anyone who will listen to him, and carries a picture (that he switches out for newer ones he takes) of you in his wallet that he shows off constantly — "look how cute they are" "my girlfriend/boyfriend is hotter".

writes songs about you

sometimes he'll write them just for himself, or for your ears only recording them on a tape just for you to have a reminder of how much he loves you.

you better believe that wayne loves you for being a good influence on him

you make him eat all breakfast, lunch & dinner — before you he would forget to eat and usually pumped himself full of caffeine only, you get him a reuseable water bottle (which you bribe him to carry it around and actually drink from it) — to his credit he now drinks at least one full bottle, you make him wear sunscreen & a hat on sunny days, waterproof footwear and jacket on rainy/snowy days (he's shocked when he doesn't get sick as often).

at first wayne was wary of you, unsure of whether your intentions were genuine or if you were going to pull one over on eddie — which disappeared the first time he came home from work and saw you too cuddled up on the couch watching one of eddie's favourite movies (it was the way you were staring at him as he shared his favourite parts or something he read about it, or a fact about the filming/production — wayne tells this story at your wedding all teary eyed about his eddie being all grown up and so very obviously loved).

takes photos of you all the time

cutesy date night photos, spicy half-naked photos (or just straight up naked naked), you sleeping, you making an ugly face, you mid-sneeze, you smiling, he has it all caught on film and he loves each and every photo so much.

total softie for you and you alone

you've gotten him to do things he's straight up refused to do for his friends, and even wayne

does literally anything you ask, and even sometimes you don't have to ask, he just does it because he knows it'll make you happy and that's all he strives for, you being happy.

[almondamaretto]

hii i loved ur crossfaded story, do u think u could do some stoner matt bf hcs? 🫶🫶

YESSSSS omg girl u have good taste

i was looking for an excuse to write ts. also not proofread!! and not good because i was high!!

stoner!matt x afab!reader

warnings: use of weed, smut

— ok lets get one thing straight, this man is one of those deep thought, random fact stoners that make you rethink everything about the world.

— "who decided that the alphabet was in alphabetical order? maybe we wanted e first, yknow?"

— always has at least one joint or the makings for one joint on him at all times. not as bad as chris who i would imagine carries around like 2-3 all the time.

— i would give anything to see this man rolling a fuckin joint.

— feels like an unpopular opinion i'm not sure, but he definitely thinks watching his girl roll one is hot. especially if you're not as experienced as him, yet still make an effort to try and impress him.

— if you're a stoner, he's buying you cute shit. cute papers, a cute grinder, lighters and stash boxes.

— is either non-verbal while high or actually yapping with no in between, but the simple truth his, he wants to be touching you at all times.

— imagine js sitting there, chatting his ear off, reflecting on your day n he's just staring, completely engrossed. meanwhile his fingers have been trailing up and down your thigh...

— or, he's running his mouth while taking a hold of your hand, leaving chaste kisses all over your hand, face, neck, and lips, only quiet whilst doing so.

— would def always be down to smoke w you, he could never say no to his sweet girl.

— loves to smoke in a group with his brothers, closest friends, and you cause he is a big quality time guy, but there is something so satisfying about being alone with you, watching the way you move through the haze filling the room.

— i think he would get more jealous while under the influence, you just look so good and he knows what every other guy is thinking.

— he is obviously very touchy and needy when he's high, but he also speaks in such an insatiable way, voicing all his dirty thoughts with no reserve.

— "and that's when- wow i can't shut up" "i could think of a few ways to shut you up."

— and you're gagged. figuratively and literally.

— one day, the friend group is at a party or some type of event. you and matt are nowhere to be found though, tucked away in some large room behind a locked door, the window cracked open.

— the roach of a used up joint was thrown onto the bedside table, hands now busy with pulling each other impossibly closer.

— he had pulled you up onto his lap, large hands gripping your ass as you pressed against his hard-on. your lips were quickly pressed together in sloppy kisses, your hands exploring his torso enthusiastically, his grazing up your sides and ass.

— "you were sittin' so pretty down there for me doll. did you really expect me to not pay attention?"

— he grumbles out while his lips ghost over your neck. you practically melt into his hands.

— chris came banging on the door, talking about something neither of you had interest in. matt never faltered in his movements, continue to squeeze your ass and nibble on your neck and chest.

— "matt!" "shh, stay quiet for me baby, he'll leave soon."

— when chris persists, he's groaning loudly and laying you gently on the bed, leaving a final kiss to your lips. he swings the door open to reveal only himself, blood-shot eyes and lip gloss smeared over his lips. his hair was jostled every which way, chest heaving slightly.

— chris just grins and shakes his head, mumbling something to matt that undoubtedly makes him roll his eyes.

— "nick and i wanna go to this other party madi's going to, you gotta drive us."

— he immediately refuses and goes to shut the door, but somehow chris convinces him with the reasoning of "less people means less chance someone tries to barge in."

— side note, you always get whichever seat you want and aux when matt's driving, it makes the other two go insane.

— mornings when you both don't have anything important to do or wake up a little earlier than usual, he wants to do two things.

— 1. wake and bake

— 2. morning sex.

— i mean seeing you first thing in the morning, getting high, and then fucking you dumb? thats his own personal heaven.

— it's doesn't take long for you to end up face down whimpering into a pillow while he drills into you from behind, senses heightened by the drug.

— he's struggling himself to keep quiet, opting to let out small grunts and whimpering into your ear, otherwise biting his lip to stay quiet.

— you fill all of his senses so well, your sounds sounding so heavenly to him, your walls squeezing him so well while he thrusts into your tight cunt.

— "doing so good for me mama, takin' me so well." he strains out as he gets close. you're both especially sensitive, highs coming all too soon.

so sorry if this is bad y'all 😭

[stvrchaser]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

( pairing ) : clarisse la rue x fem!reader

( words ) : 2000

( note ) : noticed that clarisse has her nails painted in the show and… well this came out of that. reader is heavily aphrodite coded but i don’t think it’s explicitly mentioned anywhere what cabin she’s actually from? only that she’s not from apollo’s and she’s on clarisse’s side for capture the flag

also don’t we just love that every fic i’ve ever published is literally 80% pining? honestly can’t tell you the last time one of my fics didn’t have a scene that goes on for like three paragraphs about how much admiration reader has for their love interest

oh and happy new year!!

Summer days can last for a lifetime and a fulfilling one at that. There’s so much to be done when the world wakes, engulfed in light and warmth, nurturing possibility. There’s so much to look forward to. But today, that anticipation has chosen to work against you.

The sun is setting now, approaching dinnertime, and Clarisse is nowhere to be found. For all of her spontaneity and occasional recklessness, it’s unlike her to abandon routines. That is, routines she shares with you. And walking to dinner together happens to be one of your longest-running practices.

You tried to ask around, careful not to sound too concerned so as not to spark rumors. See, Clarisse La Rue has never been publicly caught in a state that warrants concern. Clarisse La Rue is untouched by the fears that plague the rest of them. But you know better.

It isn’t until you come across a few Ares kids, very obviously overworked and looking nearly faint with exhaustion, that you come to your senses. It isn’t infrequent that Cabin 5 becomes victim to one of Clarisse’s drills, training until fatigue overpowers their fear of her authority. As predicted, you find her in a clear patch of the forest overlooking the strawberry fields. Some days she likes to train here, away from watchful eyes.

The setting sun casts her in golden light, bronze armor glistening alongside golden skin. Clarisse liked to train in full gear — a fruitful habit to get herself accustomed to the added weight of leather and metal. It allows her to move with ease, swinging her spear with grace despite the strength of her whole body being evident in every step. With her head held high, spear raised, and the incredible speed at which she moves, she doesn’t look even the slightest bit mortal, but rather a god amongst men. A warrior and hunter. She is the perfect picture of divinity if you’ve ever seen it.

You let your feet drag against the dirt, a fallen branch snapping beneath your weight. It informs Clarisse of your presence from a safe distance, although the remnants of her focused state aren’t any less intimidating. Her eyes burn bright like the electricity that charges the tip of her spear.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Clarisse realizes her error with a glance at the horizon where the sun is setting and you smile warmly, dismissing any indication of displeasure. You watch her demeanor change, the rigidity in her posture fading with an apologetic tip of her head. 

“I’ve been training. Those idiots would know that if they’d stuck around to join me.” Something tells you that that isn’t entirely true. Anyone could assume that she’d been training, but the matter of where was an entirely different question. As far as you know, this particular spot is something only the two of you are familiar with — a small refuge away from everyone else.  

“Well, we don’t all have your… passion for these things.”

“You think I’m ridiculous,” she says with a sigh. 

“Babe, you’re training for capture the flag. Not war.” Clarisse only shakes her head, knowing there’s no point in arguing. She thinks this is something the two of you might never see eye-to-eye on. While you like your fair bit of competition, Clarisse takes every victory with great significance. As she does with every loss.

“Here, I’ll help you,” you say, approaching to tuck a stray curl behind her ears. Your touch lingers at her cheeks, flushed from physical exertion and maybe something more by the way her gaze settles on your lips. Every intake of breath is louder now that you stand toe to toe and the adrenaline has started to wear off. She’s too worked up to have done this all for a game of capture the flag. “I hope you’re not doing all this to get back at Percy.” Her eyes still linger on your mouth and you think she might’ve not heard you until her brows furrow in confusion.

“Since when are you on a first-name basis?”

“Oh, come on,” you say with a disapproving shake of your head. “He’s just a kid.” You reach for the leather chord at the edge of her breastplate, undoing the knot with ease.

“He’s full of it.” She refuses to look at you now, her head turned upward as if she’d developed a sudden interest in trees. You can’t tell if she’s trying to maintain her composure to keep herself from saying something she’ll regret or if your gaze and proximity was distracting her from the discussion. Maybe a bit of both.

“He’s a baby. You could body-slam him into next Friday. It’s hardly a fair fight.” You untie the last knot keeping her breastplate in place, tugging upward to slip it over her head. Clarisse doesn’t even seem to realize that you’d freed her of her armor until the weight vanished from her body.

She looks at you then with an expression you can’t quite read. Something warm, like gratitude, but reluctant. When she speaks, it’s unexpectedly solemn.

“Do you really believe he killed The Minotaur? Him? Gods, everyone here trains themselves to death for that kind of stuff and he gets all the glory? He doesn’t even know how to shoot.” Now that you’ve been made aware of the gravity of the situation, it’s suddenly harder to find your words. This isn’t the petty rivalry you’d assumed it was, and you had to handle it as such.

“Well, I’m sure a few things have been exaggerated here and there, but that’s not his fault. People love to talk about him, but nobody’s really talking to him. I don’t think he’s had a say in anything that’s been said about him. You know how rumors spread around here.”

“But he’s—”

“Look,” you start, taking her hands into yours. “I’m not asking you to make him friendship bracelets. Just… try not to drown him in the lake, okay?”

You know the exact moment an idea hits her by the mischievous glimmer in her eye. It takes a lot of strength not to bury your face in your hands, afraid that you’ve now planted an idea that would get the poor boy killed. Or worse.

“Clarisse, please.” She surrenders, albeit reluctantly. 

“Fine,” she says. Still, you’re not entirely convinced.

“Good. Now say it.”

“What?”

“Say you won’t drown him in the lake.” Clarisse laughs, but it dies down when she realizes you don’t plan to join her.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m really not.”

“I swear not to drown Percy Jackson in the lake,” she agrees through gritted teeth. You don’t say anything about the way her hands tighten around yours as if it physically pained her to say the words.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” you tell her, ignoring that it did, in fact, seem hard. “Now, what are we gonna do with those nails?” Clarisse stares blankly at your joined hands. Chipped black nail polish alongside your perfectly pristine, perfectly preserved set of nails.

“Why do we need to do anything about my nails?”

“Honey, I painted these like two days ago. What do you even do to get them chipped like this? I mean, are you fighting with the back of your hand? I don’t understand.”

“I have to train, you know?” she says, like it’s meant to explain anything. You know better than to ask her to elaborate.

“Shame. You have very pretty nail beds. You should spend less time fighting puppy dog-eyed middle schoolers so you can actually keep them pretty.”

“You think I have pretty nail beds?” You shrug.

“Among other things.”

“Well, tell me about these other things.”

“Hm, and people think I’m vain.”

“Come on. What other things?”

You take a moment to look at her — to really look at her. To dissect every inch of her face and the features that create the picture of beauty you know and love. There are far too many pretty things to point out, but you find yourself drawn to one in particular.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Shut up. I’m not finished.”

“Of course. Don’t let me stop you.”

“And you have the most gorgeous smile.” Clarisse beams with pride. “Yeah, that one. And it doesn’t even matter if it looks like you’re just about ready to tear someone’s throat out with your teeth. I just like to see you happy. I like hearing you laugh even better.”

And laugh she does. Low but sweet, like honey. She looks like the teenage girl she is, deeply infatuated and with a capacity for love she has only ever shared with you. 

You indulge in the temporary amusement it brings you to think of how horrified Clarisse might be if anyone else were around to hear her giggle. Clarisse La Rue, Daughter of Ares, infamous for waging war on whichever unfortunate soul so much as breathes in her direction — producing a laugh so gentle and beautiful it could give Orpheus and his songs a run for his money. And you might be the happiest girl alive to have been the cause of it.

“You’re sure you’re not Apollo’s kid?”

“Are you calling me a talented poet?”

“I’m calling you a sap,” Clarisse insists with a sour expression, but her voice is saturated with mirth, eyes too bright, and you know she isn’t entirely opposed to your antics. 

“I think the term you’re looking for is romantic.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know I’m right, but thank you for the confirmation.”

“I know the nail polish fumes are getting to your head,” she mocks. You feign defeat, retreating with an exaggerated sigh.

“Maybe.” Two steps to your left and you’re concealed by a tree, its trunk twice as wide as either of you. You peak your head, locking eyes with Clarisse. “Or all that training is slowing you down. Honestly! If you’re gonna try to insult me, at least try to come up with something original.”

“Oh, you think I’m slow?” Clarisse asks, every word a thinly veiled threat — a challenge, and one you’re willing to accept.

“Unless you want to prove me wrong.” Clarisse lunges at you without warning, almost too fast, but you’re able to gather your senses. The tree had bought you just enough time to keep her whole body from slamming into yours, the force of it undoubtedly capable of launching you both to the ground. 

You dash through the woods as fast as your legs can carry you, your only advantage being that Clarisse must have tired herself out from training. But you know she’s hot on your trail.

From here, you can see the bonfire, flames burning high. You turn, prepared to declare that your victory is just seconds away. You’re tackled to the floor before a word can leave your mouth. 

“Oh, come on! That’s not fair, I was distracted!”

“Distracted by what?” Clarisse laughs hysterically although taking a much more graceful tumble to the floor than you had. She’s covered in fallen leaves and her jeans are brown at the knees where the denim fades.

“The pretty girl chasing me.” Clarisse is beside herself with joy, clutching at her stomach and close to tears, and it takes her a minute to calm herself. When the two of you have settled, she speaks again. Or tries to, that is.

“Oh, you are so—“ You place a kiss on her lips, short and sweet, but enough to leave her speechless. Clarisse turns a violent shade of red and you think she might need another minute to calm herself. You take that time to revel in your victory.

You stand, offering your hand to help her up. 

“Come on, let’s get dinner and you can rest for the game tomorrow. If you’re gonna lead us to victory, you’re gonna need your strength, captain.” She smiles, intertwining her hand with yours.

“You’re gonna be there? Right beside me?”

“La Rue, you’re crazy if you think there’s even a chance I’d ever leave your side.”

•°. *࿐

reader: pls don’t drown percy in the lake

clarisse: ok fine

clarisse: *tries to drown percy*

reader: what did i say about drowning people??

clarisse: …

clarisse: you never said the toilets were off-limits 

also i'm like brand new to the pjo fandom but i’ve been kindly informed of clarisse x silena (and their tragic ending but i turn a blind eye to that so i can preserve my sanity) but when i get there you WILL need to physically restrain me from writing fics about them

[tyunn1ngz]

hueningkai nsfw alphabet

cw: gn!reader i think ? to the best of my ability anyways and no gender is stated regardless

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

total softie!!!!!!:( wants to be held and wants to hold u and its just oh-so delicate and tender just two lovers in ur own little safety bubble— giggles w hushed pinky promises that u will meet in ur dreams that night

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself his lips and his fingers— his lips on urs, his fingers in u; his fingers in ur mouth, he’s obsessed w it all, he likes it so much

on u ur thighs and tummy!!! marking u up all over and squishing the skin under his fingertips, rubbing over ur tummy when hes inside u just to watch u squirm and gasp .. ( ；∀；)

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

his cock gets so wet when hes hard n he cums a lot its so cute really especially cuz he’d get so shy abt it <3

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

gets off to ur voice sometimes— like listens back to voice notes u’ll send him even if all u r doing is talking abt ur day and gets himself so hard out of nowhere he loves hearing u

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

a big virgin w no idea what hes doing before u but thats ok!!!!! thats what practice is all abt !!!!!!! more fun for u especially bc hes such an eager learner <3

f = favourite position (this goes without saying)

spooning or riding — spooning is so intimate and he can feel up ur thighs and tummy so nicely that way, or dip his hands to bring u more pleasure to ur sex; and u riding him means u can take the reins and he’s very into that! use him to get urself off honey!

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

silly for the most part, its more relaxing and comforting that way, sex isn’t some performance between u two. but sometimes it feels like his brain just melts and pours out his ears so thats when it’ll seem more serious, bc u’ll have just a soft big eager puppy on ur hands then :<

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

for my own personal bias. No shaving. all his body hair in tact. everyone listen to me bc that is SEXY. his happy trail ohhgod

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very intimate, has to be touching u at all times it’d be like chopping a limb off if u told him he wasnt allowed to touch u. loves rubbing his cheeks against urs idk thats just a thing in my head

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

cracks knuckles what do u guys know abt PLUSHIE HUMPER kai who steals sprays of ur perfume or lets u cuddle a specific one so it’ll smell like u when he fucks it later and cries ur name softly … what do u KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

nipple play. make this boy cum from just playing w his nipples i swear to god. and when hes more on the dominant sides of things definitely dacryphilia imo

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

just the bedroom !!! but maybe a quickie in the bathroom at a party could be up his alley too whos the say ;p

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

watching u get changed or get ready in general, defo also gets so hard when u do smth as simple as sit in his lap and move a little too much hes just too easy !!!!!!!!!!

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing too rough and violent, and not heavy on the degradation either. just a tiny bit sometimes but hes more abt praise!! dont b too mean to him he’ll get stuck in his head :( not too fond of too much degradation towards u for this reason too! just a little if its what ur into but he prefers being nice to u its just in his nature no matter how bratty u get w him </3

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

a giver, bc it means he can make u feel good and also be between ur thighs which make for great earmuffs! not very good at it sometimes but his eagerness makes up for it!!!! other times he’s absolutely expert w his tongue its insane

he does love receiving tho!!!!! as much as he won’t admit it bc he thinks it’ll make him selfish for some reason Σ('◉⌓◉’) loves when u take him especially deep— rly makes his thighs shake and u have to keep ur hands on his hips to keep him from practically fucking ur throat >_>

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

gentle but kinda fast ? he gets so desperate and pathetic that he needs it to be faster but he can’t hurt u so he’s gentle by nature. he’ll get a lil rougher when he’s closer to cumming tho or if u rly push for it<3

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

don’t happen often but when they do they’re the hottest thing in the world. he either goes so dumb hes basically melted into ur arms and pleading, almost in tears or! he’s finally treating u like u won’t break and just taking what he wants, whispering how good u feel and how a little part of him wants someone to walk in and see u breaking in his hold :3c

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

a little! nothing crazy but if theres a more tame fantasy u wanna try he’d defo be down, and he’s happy to tell u his own fantasies, even if his face burns up w embarrassment w every word. not too fond on risks, not big ones anyway but little thrills r always fun!!!! ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

doesnt last long the first round especially but he’ll go as many rounds as u want. obsessed w how u feel when u cum on his cock so if u orgasm once and its not w him inside u ur gonna be going again and even then it might not be enough he’ll be overstimulating the both of u to the heavens— just be aware of that !

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

lowk vibrator obsession, loves watching u use it, loves using it on himself, loves using it on u, u using it on him— u both using at the same time, pressed up against either side of it and crying into each others mouths .. could also see him loving the idea of having a fleshlight. Gulps. ＿|￣|○

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

teases u a lot when hes in charge just to see ur glassy eyes and pretty lips form a pout, but hes pretty hypocritical bc he doesnt like to be teased and he’ll get so pathetic when u do .. sigh

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

louder when hes closer to cumming, whimpers and gaspy moans that grow louder and higher in pitch the closer he gets, probably likes to stuff his face in a pillow or plushie to keep himself quiet bc he gets so embarrassed but he sounds so pretty :((((

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

never really puts u in ur place when u act bratty but one time he just snaps and ur legs were trembling for a good two days after; good thing he was back to his little angelic self and carried u everywhere

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

big hes hung asf. personally im a little more interested in the 50 pounds of ass he carries around but ig his cock is also important in this category

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH! .. once he gets a taste of sex— of you, he is insatiable woooo boy

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

hes not conking out until ur asleep first!!!!!!! so however long ur awake for after all is done, he’s up too!!!! no matter how hard his eyelids try to droop closed ok and if ur not sleepy hes not either (he is but just keep talking ok he’ll keep fighting it off)

[ruskaroma]

Absolutely fucking adore the idea of Constantine having a very talkative and energetic little human around that he calls “bunny” and treats you like one, treats you like a pet.

You really think that you’re Constantine’s sidekick because you follow him around everywhere he goes and you’re basically living in his apartment because you just – never – fucking – leave. No matter what Constantine does, no matter how mean he treats you, you just can’t bring yourself to hate him because he just might be the only light you have in your life – which is a weird thing to say considering Constantine probably possesses the most darkest mind in the world and you haven’t even seen half of it.

When he’s in a good mood, he’d treat you out for a dinner and actually conversates with you like a normal human being (even though nothing about him – or you – is normal) and tell demon and angel stories you’d always find yourself drawn into, chin on your palm, wide doe eyes while listening to his deep voice talk.

Most of the time you’d get very excited about something and very eager to learn that you’re practically vibrating in your seat. It’s such a normal occurrence to Constantine that he knows how to deal with you when you’re in that state of mind.

“Wait so – if demons and angels exist, is there a possibility that vampires are also true? Are they real? Please, tell me they’re real – I mean, have you ever met one before, John? God, that would be so freaking cool. I always wanted to be a vampire –”

Constantine lets you talk. Even though he wouldn’t quite grasp the other words that you’re saying because he really feels like you’re rapping instead of talking. Not to mention the hand movements you’d do while you spew random little facts out of nowhere, or when you’d remember a memory from childhood that you’ll end up telling him; Constantine really does find you quite adorable.

And you’re a bit energetic too. Well, a bit wouldn’t really cover it. You’re full blown energetic who sometimes acts like you drank five cans of caffeine the moment you open your eyes, but Constantine knows all your energy is natural and comes from your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to sit down next to him at a diner without your hands fiddling with something or when you just really… couldn’t keep your mouth shut. It’s a hard thing to do, really. 

Then there’s Constantine, who likes to take advantage of your behavior by saying something really perverted and inappropriate.

“Hey, bunny.”

“What?”

“Would my cock be enough to get you to stop talking?”

“Good one. But that would only make it a lot worse.”

“I know. I’ve heard it,” he’d snicker, then would press a kiss on your cheeks that would make you flutter and scoff in annoyance. He always smelled like cigarettes and something minty. “I’m joking, bun.”

“Yeah, it would be a joke if it wasn’t true,” you rolled your eyes. “You’ve witnessed my mouth doing a lot more work than usual when I’m sucking your dick.”

“Well, you should be proud of yourself, bun. Looks like your mouth got more talent other than talking.”

“Haha, very funny.”

His comments like that don’t really offend you or anything because you know he’s joking. You know he secretly loves your rambles despite being mean about it, because that’s just how he is.

But during sex, it’s a whole different story.

Constantine has a habit of making you cry on the bed by making your rambles even worse. He knows that you ramble when you’re either feeling flustered, nervous, or horny, and most of the time you get all those feelings at once when you’re in front of his cock, which means a sudden flip of the switch inside your brain just goes off and you start saying these deliciously filthy words that never fails to make Constantine hard.

“What’s that, little bun? I didn’t hear you,” Constantine smirked, voice teasing as his hand gripped the base of his thick cock, smearing the dripping tip all over your lips as you struggled to catch your breath after he fucked your throat. “Where did my little talkative bunny go, hm? Why is she not talking?”

“J–John–”

“Oh? What’s that? Is the little bunny speaking?” Constantine mocked, pulled his dick away from your mouth as he gripped your chin with one hand. “If my bunny wants my attention, that’s not the right name she should be addressing me, yeah? Already forgot our rules around here, bun? I let you get a taste of my cock and you’re already defying me?”

“No–no, no, d-daddy, that’s not–that’s not what I mean,” you sniffled, your eyes getting teary from your kneeling position as well as when you heard Constantine’s mocking voice above you. “Daddy, please–just want–just want your cock in my pussy again, p-please–”

“Oh, you do? Poor little bunny is so wet and horny now, hm? My little bunny is feeling so empty?”

“Y-yes, daddy, I–I feel so empty–”

“Look at you crying. You look so pathetic,” he grinned, grabbing you by the hair and throwing you on the bed. You were already naked, already covered in bruises from the makeout session earlier and the handprint on your ass was starting to become more evident and red as minutes went by. “Where does my bunny want daddy’s cock, huh? Where do you want it, bun, tell me.”

“I–In my–In my pussy, daddy, want it in my–my cunny–” you sniffled again, pawing at his shoulders as your tears were starting to blur your vision. “Daddy, please–please, I want you so bad–miss your cock so much, feel so empty and wet and I just wanna–”

“Shhh, bun, I know. I know what you want,” he petted your hair with one hand while his other was guiding his cock in your cunt, the fat tip circling teasingly on your already puffy pussy lips and not quite going in. “Wish I could record you like this and make you watch it after. Fucking show you how filthy you are while begging for my cock. All the dirty shit you say when you’re so desperate for me.”

You keened, nodding absentmindedly even though you didn’t understand a single word he said. Your mind was only focusing on the delicious feeling of his cock rubbing against your sloppy cunt.

“Yes–yes, please, daddy, d-do what you want–do want you want, I’m yours–bunny is all yours–”

“That’s right. That’s my little bunny, knowing her place and where she rightfully belongs,” Constantine grinned, and it was only then he slammed his cock all the way inside you, stretching your walls wide as you bite onto his shoulders to keep yourself from waking up the entire building. “I would choose this tight little pussy over entering the fucking gates of heaven.”

[phoenixyfriend]

Accountant of Theed

Read on AO3

After all is said and done, someone needs to balance these books, and nobody actually told the accounting department how they paid for this new hyperdrive. Mimi really hopes it's not a loan from the Hutts.

Disclaimer: I am not an accountant, but I work in an adjacent field (and have been considering getting a certification, but that's neither here nor there). While I did take some courses on it, I asked an Accounting Person to look over the excel sheet before I went forward with the rest of the fic to make sure it's internally consistent. Thank you to @gnomer-denois for confirming my balance on these works!

The reconciliation sheet does NOT follow contemporary guidelines in terms of format etc, but that is because it is:

In space! Standard practice differs from Modern United States or what have you.

Not the primary balance sheet, just the simplified version made to show to Queen Amidala.

If you'd prefer to view the Excel sheet in a more easily navigable form, there is a google drive link available. This is also your best option if using a screen reader.

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

Theed is safe. They are rebuilding. There is even financial support, aid, from the Republic.

It comes with strings attached. Oversight. Auditors.

Wouldn’t want Naboo to misuse funding after that nasty mistake with the Trade Federation, right? Sure, Naboo wasn’t the one at fault, but one can never be too careful...

Mimi, as an accountant for the government of Naboo, does not in fact want to commit fraud, or enable corruption, but the rolling audits do feel a little like the Republic is punishing them for getting invaded.

“Hey, boss?”

That tone. Mimi does not like that tone. “Please tell me it’s not another unauthorized purchase with a missing receipt. Which account did they pull from this time?”

“Um... we don’t know?”

Mimi gives them a moment. No elaboration is given.

“You don’t know?”

“We don’t know,” the younger employee repeats.

“What do you mean?” Mimi asks. “People charge things to accounts or cards. They forget to submit receipts. We hunt them down for receipts, and make sure nobody is skimming off the top. That’s how it goes. Unless this is a purchase on a personal and we need to reimburse—”

“Um, maybe?”

“In which—what? That’s just... okay. There’s a process for reimbursements. You aren’t following it, which means... what? What do you mean, you don’t know? Did they use cash, or pull from an account?”

The younger employee looks down at their datapad. Looks back up at her. Looks baffled and a little scared. “Um, it’s... we still don’t have a receipt, but we also don’t know where the money for it came from? But nobody’s put in a reimbursement request and I can’t imagine anyone on the mission had those funds on them, not even the Queen herself.”

“The money for what?”

“Um. It sort of just... showed up?”

“So, it’s some kind of gift?” Mimi presses.

“Too big,” the younger mumbles, refusing to meet her eyes. “It would have to be disclosed.”

“I am giving you five seconds—”

“It’s a hyperdrive!” they yelp.

“...Explain.”

“One of the mechanics was looking over the Royal Cruiser, and found that there was unrecorded repair work to the hyperdrive. The ship took enough damage during the escape that he wasn’t surprised, but then he noticed that it was from an earlier run of the part, and when he checked, the serial number was completely wrong. The hyperdrive was completely replaced.”

Mimi closes her eyes and takes a breath. “The mechanic doesn’t know?”

“He said there’s nothing in the records that matches it at all, and it’s a big enough part that there’s no way it would just slip through the cracks, not when it’s that expensive and going on the Royal Cruiser.”

“So,” Mimi says, “we have a part worth almost as much as the rest of the cruiser combined, that just... came out of nowhere, and nobody claiming for reimbursement.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s what it looks like.”

Mimi has no interest in fraud.

“Find out who was piloting when Queen Amidala escaped, and see if they have any answers,” Mimi tells them. “If we can keep it to just the hangar staff without drawing in the Royal Retinue, it’ll be easier on all of us.”

“Here’s hoping, ma’am.”

(Continue on AO3)