#x fn reader

[b-lairington]

virgin! mike schmidt who's absolutely losing it the first time you give him a blowjob!

content: mommy kink, blowjob, cum swallowing, virgin! mike, some little praises for mike, he calls her mommy

After the events of what went down that night at the pizzeria, he's been stressed and dealing with newfound revelations. Vanessa had taken notice and offered to care for Abby for a few days while he took time for himself.

He found himself sleeping almost entire days. He was so exhausted and happy he finally found time for himself.

He just never expected for his hot neighbor to be on her knees before him, lips wrapped around his cock.

His inexperience shined.

His body quivers in bliss at even the idea of touching you, so it's not so surprising that he's shaking and whimpering when your spit covers his member, tip so pink and aching. His cock is throbbing in your mouth as you're deepthroating his size. His thighs are shaking almost violently every time you give him small sucks. The tip of his dick oozes precum, and his eyes roll to the back of his skull when he sees you licking him clean.

He isn't going seconds without moaning, his groaning and crying in pleasure as his stomach forms knots, knots waiting to snap. You pull away, using your hand to jerk him off. While doing this, you take the opportunity to talk.

"Mikey... you're so big..." You say, "How have you never fucked before?" You suck his tip.

"Mm... so good..." you moan as you take him all in. Mike can't answer, he's too busy indulging in the pleasure that you are bringing him.

"fucckk... mommy..." He cries quietly, his breathing pace starting to pick up. The name catches you off guard, though you aren't going to be making fun of him for it. You think it's cute he trusts you enough.

"Feels so good doesn't it? You're so big..." You tell him before taking him in again, you tongue traces the veins on his cock, your sucks are a little more hard.

"so good for me.."

Mike moans at the praises. "need to cum... please.. I'm gon-.. gonna cum .."

"Do it, baby.." you encourage him, licking the underside of his size, teasing his balls. And that's the last thing he needs to feel before his cum is shooting down your throat.

[blxkstar]

Come join the Rebellion against the empire!!!

I made a playlist for the Star Wars Rebellion! Please come check it out!

[bunny-lily]

Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending

Fluff for our broken fluffed-out hearts Dedicated to @bunny584 because ow. I promised fluff, so I’m delivering fluff

Pairing: Satoru x piano teacher!fem!reader

CW: just some fluff, man. We all need some happy, sappy moments in our lives with our beloved dumbass boy. 

You taught piano. Plain, simple, easy. At least, you thought so, before meeting an enigmatic man as your newest student. He played a little too well for a beginner, and seemed a little too familiar.

AN: I chose to post this on my side acc since this one was technically made for the exact purpose of writing JJK fics (same with the Ao3 acc (milk_bunny/chimeric-dreams for that one)). So, cheers to the first fic on this blog!

This was honestly scribbled down in a single sitting between 1-5 am. Please don’t judge any mistakes too harshly, I wanted to post it ASAP and not subject it to my endless course of corrections and re-writing.

This is also very short (lmao 6.7k words) for how my work is normally. Again, I just wanted to get it out as fast as I could ;w;

smol update: this has been (minorly) edited! nothing big, I mostly just went in and fixed up a couple mistakes + summoned my dearly beloved thesaurus. Otherwise, it's basically 98% the same as before!

Music sheets laid scattered around you, annotated in messy scribbles in various colors, fonts, and sizes. A scratched out row of bars here, corrected or adjusted notes there, mindless rambles stuffed into the margins as you tried desperately to figure out which key to put your song into so that it matched the exact tone you were going for.

Not like you were some well renowned artist whose career rode on their sole ability to create magical orchestrations. No, you had barely any presence at all. The videos of your songs you posted on YouTube hardly scratched a couple hundred viewers at most, with the occasional comment from a bot or scammer getting your hopes up, only for them to go crashing back down. 

You weren’t some notable figure in the music industry, you were just a white-collar worker that taught piano from your tiny home part-time.

It suited you, you supposed, as bitter as you could feel at times. You were just a normie, a casual passerby who liked having your fingers spring and jump across the keys of your instrument. It was one you inherited from your grandmother. She was the one that taught you how to play when you were little, while your parents were busy working and couldn’t sit and entertain you all day like she could.

She taught you some essentials, too, like how to tune the spinet – ‘It’ll save you big bucks, bunny,’ she insisted – and how to detect even the slightest issue it might have. She was correct about it saving you big bucks.

As shabby as the thing looked, with peeling white paint and floral designs chipping off the sides, the cover scraped to hell and back, and the brassy pedals having long lost their glossy sheen, it was in perfect shape.

In your expert opinion, anyway. You were biased, so what? You had every right to be.

Granny had left the world a while ago, her ashes situated on the short mantel of your tiny fireplace. You lit the candles every day, rested two softly smoking incense sticks on the shallow bowl to catch their cinders, and gave her a swift good-morning before you raced out your door, inevitably arriving at work with only minutes to spare.

In the evenings, you’d teach, then ramble to her about your day, wish her a loving goodnight, and go pass the fuck out. Rinse and repeat, except weekends, where you were teaching all day.

It was tiring, working two jobs like this, especially when some of the kids you taught were insufferable, but music was your passion. At the end of the day, you viewed it as worth every minute spent doing something you loved.

You liked to think she would have been proud of you.

A light tapping sound, a knuckle rapping against the wood of your open front door, caught your attention. It was a warm day, one that was too good to spend with the doors and windows closed. Natural light flooded in, casting the figure standing at the entrance in a brilliant glow that hid their features from you.

You glanced at the clock on the wall to your left, then leapt up from the floor in front of your coffee table, hurriedly and messily stuffing your music sheets into a folder. “Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn’t see the time, I’m so sorry about that. Are you the two o’clock?”

Today was a surprisingly free day for you. You only had one appointment, with a new student, if you remembered correctly. You must have gotten so ingrained in your rapid-fire notations that you lost track of time.

While you weren’t expecting an adult, since the email sounded like it was from a teenager, it wasn’t uncommon. You had students of all varying ages, anyways. It was a nice change, too; you found that adults tended to listen better than children.

A smooth laugh greeted your ears, the sound impossibly pleasant to your ears. “It’s fine,” the man said as he stepped into your home, breaking from the prison of light holding him. His stark-white hair caught you off guard first, followed by his height, and then the round shades resting low on the bridge of his nose. “That’s me.”

Eyes as blue as the most vivid summer sky peered straight through yours and into your soul, his hues almost appearing to shine in the tranquil environment of your living room, without the help of the overhead lamp you had turned off. His lips curled into a sparkling grin, giving him this sort of youthful luminance that had your heart skipping beats.

You swallowed and looked away before his gleaming smile blinded you, striding over to your upright eighty-eight, using it as an excuse to busy yourself and avoid eye contact with him before he made you stop breathing just by fluttering his lashes.

“Come on in,” you responded stiffly, clearing your throat to ease off the tenseness in your muscles. Why were you getting so worked up over him? Sure, he was pretty, but you’d barely spoken two sentences to him. How had he managed to get you in such a tizzy so easily, where your tongue felt tied and your pulse raced in your wrists? “How much do you know about piano?”

“Uhh,” he set down his briefcase against the wall beside your door, slipped off his shoes, and met you next to the instrument. “I know a bit.”

“Alright,” you nodded and patted the bench, then paused to think if it would be too low for him. What intensely long legs. “Do you need me to get a different stool?”

He shook his head, sliding into the seat like it was second nature to him. “Nope, this is just fine.”

“Great,” you smiled at him and tucked your skirt under your hands as you sat down on the other end. “Let’s get started, then! Are you familiar with the different notes?”

His hands took place over the ivories and he slowly pressed each one down as he labeled them. “C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C.”

“Excellent, that’s awesome! You’re already a few steps ahead of other beginners,” you nodded approvingly and retrieved the thin booklet you had laid on top of the upper panel. You opened it and sifted through a few of the jingle options, picking out something a bit more intermediate for him.

It was still simple, but definitely more advanced than nursery rhymes. You found teens and adults had a more enjoyable time learning when they didn’t feel like they were being patronized. Teens especially, fickle little creatures, those ones.

“Let’s start with this one, then,” you said as you set it against the music rack in front of him. “It’s pretty easy, I think you’ll pick it up quickly.”

The piece consisted of quarter-note half steps that ignored the sharp and flat keys for now. You had placed a piece of tape over the tempo indicator, finding that it put your students under too much pressure and made them stumble in their rush to follow the pacing they thought was right when they didn’t know what tempo was to begin with.

The man took a few seconds to study the sheet, then placed his fingers on the corresponding keys and began playing. 

He was a bit slow, holding some notes too long and others not long enough, but you were correct in thinking he’d get the hang of it fast. After a few runs, he was playing it decently well, and confidently, too.

“Perfect! I knew you’d get it like that,” you snapped your fingers, then picked up the booklet again, flipping the pages in search of something a little more challenging. You probably wouldn’t find it in a kiddie book like this one, so you placed it down and got up, grabbing a more advanced one from the side table nearby. “What got you wanting to learn how to play?”

“Ah,” he scratched the back of his head. “My dad always wanted me to learn as a kid. I finally caved in, if only to make him stop yapping in my ear during family dinners. I’m just twenty years late to the party.”

You burst into giggles as you returned to your place on the bench, placing the new song you had chosen out for him where the previous one had been. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. You’d be surprised how many later bloomers there are.”

He chuckled along with you. “Well, that’s a relief. Had me fearing I was the only fully grown student you’d see in your life.”

“Far from it,” you shook your head. “I teach a grandfather that wants to play for his grandson at his graduation next year. It’s never too late to learn.”

When you looked up at him, you found him already peering at you with those intensely cerulean irises, his sunglasses folded neatly into the collar of his shirt. You twitched, startled by his stare. He had you locked in his gaze, captivated as he observed you and you observed him.

You noticed with wonder and fascination that his lashes were as milky white as the tresses on his head.

He really was beautiful. Those same lashes were long and soft, brushing his high cheeks whenever he blinked. His lips were plush and pink, seemingly always curled up into a permanent smile regardless of size. Life and boyish playfulness darted in those mesmerizing oases that refused to shake their hold on you, and you wouldn’t wish them to.

They were the breath of fresh air you never knew you were deprived of, the nectar of life that was water to your parched throat, the flickering mirage that came to life before your very being.

You felt drawn to him, inexplicably. There was something so… familiar about him, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Like you’d seen him before, across the metro platform, or walking into the store you were just leaving, or someone walking the opposite direction as you on the crosswalk.

Where have I seen you before?

You blinked yourself out of the illusion, your lips parting, closing, then parting again before you finally managed to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot your name, could…could you remind me?”

“Ah,” he shook his head, forgiving your forgetfulness. “Just call me Satoru.”

Just Satoru? Is that really okay?

It doesn’t sound like a name I’ve heard before.

“Alright,” you agreed regardless. “Satoru it is. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you murmured your own name in return, dipping your head down in a mini bow. You returned your attention to the music sheet, lightly tapping the back of his hand with your pointer finger. “Let’s continue, shall we?”

You noted how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. It was hard not to see it, your index finger would likely barely reach the topmost joint of his if you pressed your palms together.

Your hands tingled at the thought. You quickly shoved it aside, focusing on being a good instructor. 

Satoru continued to surprise and impress you as he mastered the tunes you chose for him after trying them out a few times. Each time he made a mistake, he listened attentively as you corrected it, laying your hands over his as you adjusted the positioning of his fingers.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” you snickered. “I’m a bit jealous. It’s hard for me to reach those far keys sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned cockily, flashing you a sultry glance between chords. “They can reach a lot of things very easily.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you stuttered, whipping your head away and acting as if he hadn’t completely flustered you.

Truthfully, the session was only supposed to last an hour and a half, but when you looked up at the clock, you were shocked to see you were nearing an hour longer than expected. It didn’t feel like much time had passed at all, maybe thirty minutes at maximum. Had it really been that long?

You pushed yourself up, stretching your legs as you felt pins and needles spark up in them. “Seems I got distracted twice today. I’ve kept you for an hour longer than I intended, I’m sorry,” you laughed meekly. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge extra for that, that’s on me.”

“It’s no worry,” Satoru reassured you as he got to his feet as well, delicately closing the fallboard with a careful hand. “Are you sure, though? I don’t mind paying for it, I did take up your time.”

He made something warm form in your chest.

“It’s fine, I love teaching. It’s not my main job, anyway, don’t stress,” you brushed away his concern. “You’re a prodigy, y’know,” you told him as you walked him to the still open door. “It’s no wonder your dad wanted you to learn how to play. I’m sure he’s proud.”

He let out a chuckle that sounded maybe a little forced. “Yeah, hope so,” he responded as he eased his shoes back on and bent down to grab his briefcase. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Thank you,” you brushed your hair behind your ear, blushing. “Ah– when would you want to see me again? I-If you do, I mean.”

The odd firmness he had a moment ago melted away, once more replaced by that handsome smirk of his. “Same time next week? Ah, hang on, why don’t I get your number, just in case? I have a bit of an unpredictable schedule.”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” you assented, taking his phone after he unlocked it and passed it to you. “You don’t like using email?”

He shook his head, watching you punch in your number into a new contact, add your name, then hand it back. “Nah, texting is easier for me. I’ll message you later tonight, yeah?”

“Alright,” you acquiesced.

“Oh, right, how much do I owe you?”

You blinked a few times before recalling that it was technically a paid session, though it didn’t feel like that to you. You murmured out the cost, and he gave you an odd look for a brief second. He pulled out his wallet, counted out a few bills, and folded them in half neatly before passing them off to you.

“Thanks for the lesson,” he grinned and waved goodbye, promising to text you later as he headed down your walkway, turned the corner, and vanished from sight.

You closed the door with a quiet poompf, staring blankly at your piano as you tried to remember how to function again. You glanced down at the bundle of money in your hand when you thought it felt a little too thick, brow furrowing as you unfolded it and counted and holy shit that’s way too fucking much–

You rushed out of your house, down the pathway to the sidewalk, and looked for him, though you knew it was futile. He was already gone.

You tried to think of how you were going to slip the excess money back into his pocket next time you saw him, but as soon as you were inside, you raced to the folder you left on your coffee table, practically ripping it apart as you pulled out all the papers, aggressively uncapped a pen, and got to writing at light speed.

That man, whoever he was, infected you with a painful shot of inspiration that you needed to get off your chest right then and there. Your hand flew across the pages, revising entire sections you had been stuck on for weeks in the blink of an eye. Messy verses were refined, the missing notes floated into place, and by the time the moon had risen high and the timid breeze had turned cold, you had finished your song.

You looked it over one last time, a disbelieving giggle escaping you. You finished it. You finished it. This damned piece had been giving you restless nights, a broken loop in your brain that kept skipping over the unwritten parts, but one session with Satoru had seemingly given you the one push you were missing all along.

Your phone buzzed.

You opened it and tapped on the messages icon to find a text from an unknown number.

Unknown, 9:17 PM Hey! Sorry for texting so late. It’s Satoru. Does next week still work for you, same time?

What divine timing on his end. Right as he entered your thoughts, he slid into your DMs. 

Your fingers practically trembled with giddy excitement as you texted back instantly to confirm the time, uncaring of what kind of impression that was making on him. You were elated, feeling like you could exhale in peace at last. You gave a little victory cheer as you went about closing and locking all the windows and doors, pulling the curtains shut with so much energy, you questioned if you’d be able to sleep.

The answer was yes. After you had gotten all ready, having pampered yourself as a small reward for yourself, you fell onto your bed and passed out mere minutes later. For once, everything seemed to be going right.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

“How’d you learn how to play?” He asked one day as he sipped at the tea you prepared for him. He was right about his schedule being hectic at times, but he somehow managed to fit himself into having lessons with you a few times a week, rather than just the standard one.

It surprised you, but pleasantly so. He was eager to learn and improve, and you were more than happy to teach him. He made for fantastic company, too, and you found you enjoyed spending time chatting lazily with him just as much as you did instructing him.

“My grandma taught me,” you told him with a smile. “She passed away a while ago, but I like to think I’m keeping her legacy alive like this, by teaching others, and keeping that old lil’ thing alive.”

Satoru nodded in understanding. “You’re amazing at playing,” he complimented sweetly. “She did a great job.”

“Thank you,” you answered bashfully, hiding your blush behind your own mug of tea.

“What was she like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His smile felt like the sun kissing the apples of your cheeks on a perfect spring day. Him wanting to know more about you had your heartbeat picking up in speed, chirping a new, happy melody like a canary.

You deliberated before replying. “She was a very shrewd woman, stern in her teaching, but very gentle at the same time. She was the kind of granny that snuck me pieces of candy when my parents weren’t looking. She let me stay up late playing music whenever I was staying at her place. I probably bugged my parents to let me stay there every weekend, just so I could play it and learn from her.”

“So you got into music young?”

You bobbed your head. “I fell in love the first time I heard her playing when I was a toddler. I had woken up from a nap one day, somehow escaped my crib, and crawled to the living room to watch her play for…man, I don’t even know how long. I was just…hypnotized.”

“She sounds like she was a maestro,” he snickered airily, though you knew he meant it.

You grinned widely, resting your chin on the curved cup of your palm. “She really was. I can show you some videos of her playing sometime, if you’d like to see,” you offered.

“I’d love to.”

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Satoru had been your student for a while now. 

He zoomed through the intermediate pieces into the advanced-amateur category easily, though seemed to plateau around there. Despite this, he was a wonderful student, always trying to improve himself and his skill. You knew he had it in him, he was only missing a little something he needed to tip him to the next level.

At one point, you had joked that he must have been purposefully holding himself back just so he could keep studying under you.

He laughed, and said nothing more.

By now, he reached a point where he would come in with a pep in his step, claiming he had perfected a lullaby he wanted to play for you before you started the session. You’d find yourself (politely) seated on your couch nearby, and would watch with a fond expression you didn’t know was there as he treated your piano with a touch more tender than even your own.

And you’d listen. He’d choose some of the prettiest, albeit not complicated, arrangements to play for you, and you’d find yourself slipping into a state of blissful peace. All your thoughts would drift away, and you’d absorb yourself in the music he played. 

A few sessions had been spent just like that, with him as your personal musician, and you couldn’t figure out why you felt so…happy.

You liked the emotion a lot, though, and found yourself looking forward to his every visit, anticipating the full body chills you’d get whenever he lulled you into that state of delighted serenity. You didn’t remember when you stopped charging him, and when you let him come in without knocking anymore. 

You also didn’t remember when having tea after each session became tradition, but you were grateful for the joy he brought you with his presence alone.

In fact, you decided to get him a small gift as thanks. For what exactly? His company? Patience? Entertainment? Whatever it was didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything big, either. It was a record you stumbled across while visiting a thrift shop recently.

You picked it up for two reasons. First, he divulged he had a hobby of collecting old vinyls. Second, he mentioned he had been searching for that specific record for a few years with no luck, saying it was the last one he needed to complete his collection from that particular brand. The moment you spotted it, you grabbed it and practically bolted to the cashier, uncaring of the price.

There was no way you were leaving it there for someone else to nab it before he could. It was the most reasonable option.

Which was why you were extra giddy to see him again.

You opened the door in the middle of him reaching for the handle, stunning him for a second. That bewilderment was quickly wiped away by an excited grin that surely matched your own.

“If I knew you’d be this enthusiastic to see me, I would have worn something better,” he quipped.

You snorted and waved your hand, stepping back so he could come in. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see my favorite student? You look good no matter what you’re wearing, anyway.”

“Favorite, eh?” He teased as he closed the door behind him, leaning down to give you a quick hug. “Now I really feel like I should have worn something fancy.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” you giggled, leading him to the usual spot.

“I dunno,” he hummed, a sly expression crossing his face. “Pretty big deal to hear that from my favorite teacher,” You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest weakly, to which he laughed openly. “Ready to get started, teach?”

What a gorgeous sound his laughter was.

“Actually,” you said, “I got something for you. Wait here a moment, lemme go grab it.”

He raised a brow but didn’t raise any objections as he sat down and tugged his tie to loosen it a few inches, saying that he’d be right there.

You had to resist the urge to skip to your room to locate the record and retrieve it from the drawer you had safely stored it in. It was your sock drawer, actually. You wanted to keep it somewhere protected while it tarried for its new owner. You sang the melody of your newest single quietly as you picked it up, inspecting the album cover for any indication that it had been touched since you last put it in there.

Pristine. Obviously aged, but in flawless condition otherwise.

Sounds from your living room brought pause to your actions right as you closed the drawer after dumping all your socks back into it.

…Was that music?

Frowning, you picked up the record and crept towards the source of the noise. You recognized it instantly – it was the most notable piece written by the notorious Gojo Saichi. It was considered the most difficult composition created within the last century or so. You’d listened to it on repeat occasionally, attempted it dozens of times, though you always fell short before the second movement started, which came early on.

Was Satoru watching a video? No, the melody was too clear and full to sound like it was coming out of a phone speaker.

Then…

You froze in the entrance to the hallway, stuck in place as you watched Satoru play the oeuvre flawlessly. From where you were standing, at an angle, you could see his precise actions and motions. Every note came to him as naturally as air, each shift in tempo as easy as blinking, down to the fragile, silk-like contrast that made the instrument sound as if it was a weeping widow, sitting on a window sill as she descanted to the moon, alone. 

His digits knew exactly where to go, when, how deeply to press, how to shift between fierce and floaty as if he was born to do exactly this.

As your eyes flickered from his hands to his face, you saw that his eyes were closed. He was doing what some musicians could only ever dream of achieving in their careers; he was uniting with the music, playing as one, letting it fill his heart, then pour out with every throb like the very blood in his veins.

The most complicated, difficult, astronomical concerto known to man in the modern age, and he was playing it like it was nothing.

Satoru must have sensed your burning gaping as his hues flickered open and his hands stilled over the claviature. He looked over towards you, his mien morphing into something resembling embarrassment.

You staggered closer. “That…that’s…that piece was…written by Gojo Saichi…” You mumbled, barely able to get the words out. You set down the record onto the coffee table, already having forgotten about it.

You were flabbergasted, rattled as you came to a stop at the side of the piano. He…how could he have played that so well? Wasn’t he barely in the advanced category? That was…that was professional, grade A, genius level music he played.

“Yeah,” he grinned, and you would have believed his show of being sheepish if the gleam in his eyes didn’t give him away. “He’s my dad.”

You sluggishly dropped onto your spot on the bench, peering at the keys but seeing nothing as you unpacked the bombardment of information you witnessed.

“That’s…the– that’s the hardest piece…even I can’t…”

“I know,” he rubbed his nape. “He basically forced me to stay up day and night playing it until I got it right.”

“But…how?” You tilted your head, peering up at him from the corner of your eye.

Satoru shrugged like he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bombshell on you. “I asked him to teach me when I was a teen,” You heard him say. “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” he apologized, not sounding very sorry at all.

“I…” You labored to find the right words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly?” He asked. You nodded, and he let out a heavy sigh. 

Instead of answering immediately, he stood up and pulled you to your feet as well, pulling you into the kitchen, where he filled your kettle with water and put it to heat up.

You desperately wanted to know what exactly was going on, but couldn’t find it in yourself to rush him. He went about methodically picking out both your mugs from your cupboard, tossing a bag of tea into both, grabbing the bowl of sugar on the counter, and setting it all down on the table while he waited for the kettle to whistle. He seemed lost in thought, while you had many and none at all at the same time.

You could only observe him as he picked his words carefully.

He finally began when the shrill noise of boiling water filled the room. “I don’t know if you remember – probably not, since you didn’t recognize me – but we actually did meet a while ago. I was a lot different back then,” he said as he poured the water into both mugs, afterwards placing it back on the stove and holding his hand sideways at roughly chest level. “Maybe this high, scrawny, kind of a douchebag,” he admitted with a chuckle.

You were still in shock over the whole situation. All you could do was silently urge him to continue by leaning closer, accepting the cup when he passed it to you. Heat spread through your fingertips, easing away the frosty feeling you didn’t notice set in.

“You were playing the piano in the music room at the school we went to together. It was…honestly, beautiful. I grew up with a famous pianist for a dad, but even he can’t make music sound as alluring and gentle as you can,” he continued, awkwardly holding his own mug. “So, when I saw you again a few months ago, I couldn’t believe it was you. I always wanted to ask you to play something for me when we were younger, but could never get the nerve to.”

As he spoke, the memories were beginning to filter in through the thick haze in your brain. 

You were so focused on writing music and learning to be a great musician like your grandmother that you never really paid attention to your surroundings or the people around you if they weren’t your granny, parents, direct friends, or music teacher.

From what you did remember, Satoru was always a confident, cocky boy, shameless and loud. To hear he was…shy about asking you to play for him was hard to believe.

“So, I finally let my dad start teaching me,” he rambled on when you didn’t respond. “I’ve tried so many times to replicate the song you played, but I could never get it right. I know it’s probably a long shot, but you don’t happen to remember what song that was, do you?”

You thought back, scraping the dust off your highschool recollections. There was one piece you had hyperfocused on perfecting during the last year there, determined to play it exactly as your grandmother had.

You never did manage to master it.

You set down the tea you had only sipped at twice and walked past him into the living room, heading to your piano in a sort of trance. You slid onto the bench, and set your fingers on the keys. Muscle memory took over, the gentle tune coming to life in…how long had it been since you last played this?

You let the music flow through you, gave it access to your heart, allowed it to peer into the deepest parts of your soul, and simply followed the path it created.

“Was it this one?” You asked quietly.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were wide, lips parted as he stared at you with nothing less than amazement. “That– that’s the one. Which– what’s it called?”

“It’s a piece my grandma wrote for my parent’s wedding,” you answered. “She didn’t tell me what it’s called. I’m not sure if it has a name to begin with. She played it for me once, and I,” you huffed out a short, choked chuckle, “I became obsessed. I spent every day as a senior trying to get it right, to play it like she did, but…”

Your fingers slowed into a stop as you looked at them blankly, recalling your attempts, and the disappointment that followed each failure. You memorized it after playing it just twice, but it didn’t help you reach your goal in the end.

You startled when his hand rested lightly atop of yours, his body partially leaned over your shoulder so he could look you directly in the eye. This close, you felt his light breaths as they brushed your cheek. You could see the exact shade and hue of the teal composing his striking irises, match the exact pace of his heartbeat to a sonata, hear him swallow nervously.

“Keep playing,” he rasped, sounding almost desperate. “Please.”

You obliged. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? When he requested it so feebly in a trembling voice that was close to cracking? How could you say no when you saw and felt firsthand how his body relaxed when you filled the room with the lilting melody once again?

The music hopped and glided, playful in some parts, somber and tranquil in others. He stayed right where he was, the heat of his stomach resting against your upper back, thawing the tension in your shoulders as his hands held them gently, thumbs rubbing circles into your tight trapezius.

In every way, the ballad reminded you of your grandma, of your parents, of your childhood spent trying to reach a point where you were truly happy with how you played each note.

But, if that was the case…

How come you saw Satoru’s eyes when you closed yours and listened to your own hands dance across the keys? 

Why did his smile, his laugh, his touch, his voice, his everything, come to mind when you picked apart every stanza and bar? If you put together all the notes a specific way and decoded them, you swore they’d spell his name.

Your hands drifted and halted as you reached the end of the lilt.

Or, rather, the end as you knew it.

There was a brief pause, then he mumbled, barely above a hum, “is that it?”

“Grandma never showed me how it ended,” you told him morosely. “She said she’d tell me ‘when the time is right’, but…she died before she could.”

He sat beside you and took your right hand into his. His fingers massaged meaningless shapes into the creases of your palm and the smooth plane of the dorsum. Neither of you dared break the silence, mulling in your own worlds.

Satoru was the one to cautiously cross the line of quiet, doing his best to not disturb it. He wrapped his left arm around your back, pulling you into his side while continuing to toy with your dainty digits.

“We’ll find it together,” he whispered.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Truth be told, you never imagined you’d find yourself in this kind of place before – especially not in this position. 

Your hand hovered over your brow, shading your eyes from the brilliant sun as it shined low in the sky, kissing the horizon. Though it was setting, the approaching night was warm as ever. A pleasant breeze ruffled the fabric of your dress and caught the strands of your hair that managed to slip loose from the style your mother put them in. 

Stars were already beginning to dot the expanse above, glittering and so, so crystalline when you were this far outside the city. You never thought you’d get to see them so clearly, enough to point out individual constellations, and even identify Jupiter and Venus. 

You never had a reason to leave the bounds of the city before, so all this was a distant dream you might have had once when you were a teenager. 

But here you were, outside a lovely villa, surrounded by friends, family, and loved ones, miles away from where light pollution would dare to touch. The buzzing, lively chatter of dozens of guests filled the air; the clinks of glasses, the clacks of forks and knives on plates, all of it was so animated. You felt like you were in a sort of daze, overwhelmed with happiness to the point that it almost didn’t feel real.

A pair of soft lips pressed against your temple, drawing your attention to radiant, minty-ocean hues.

Satoru gazed at you with nothing short of pure, raw, true adoration. Like every fiber in his body, each and every singular cell, was dedicated to loving you.

“I have one more present left for you,” he murmured against your lips, giving you a chaste kiss right after before he stood up and raised his glass. He tapped the back of his knife gently on the side, creating a chiming noise that settled the ongoing conversations with ease.

Once all the attention was on him, he set both objects down and began speaking.

“I know we’ve already said it a lot, but I wanted to thank you all again for coming here to celebrate this day with us,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “This is truly the happiest day of my life – so far,” he added cheekily, earning him a laugh from the crowd. “So, before all the festivities end tonight, I wanted to do one last thing, if you’d all be so kind as to grant me this moment.”

Of course they would. Satoru was just that type of person. Charisma poured off him in waterfalls, charming anyone he spoke to without effort – you included.

He pushed back his chair, moving to leave. Confused, you grasped his arm and called his name.

There was a glint of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t identify, not with the light tingle of wine sitting in the back of your mind and the overstimulation of the grand day.

“Just listen, baby,” he whispered to you, then he was weaving through the guests, snaking his way to the grand piano situated off to the side of where everyone was situated. “This is a little song I heard many, many years ago, and fell in love with from the first few notes. I’d like to dedicate it to my mother-in-law, father-in-law, their late mother, and I would like to especially dedicate it to my lovely wife.”

Your mother gasped, grabbing your arm as soon as Satoru began playing the familiar melody of the diapason you had been taught ages in the past. It was the one your grandmother played for you, just once. It was the one she played for your mother and father for their wedding. It was the one you played for Satoru, once unknowingly, and every time after that intentionally.

The one he was playing for you now.

Your mother teared up faster than you did, reaching for a clean napkin to dab her eyes with while she waved her free hand at her face, trying to stave off the tears so that they didn’t smear her mascara, though she wasn’t succeeding. Your father was gently shushing her, rubbing her shoulder while he looked between you and Satoru with pride, and you…

You recalled the first time you heard him play the composition his father had written, when you still believed he was just an advanced player. Back then, you felt entranced.

Now, you felt completely spellbound.

You lifted yourself, carefully making your way between the enchanted spectators. Some clutched and squeezed your hand as you passed, and a few others breathed out little congratulations to you, not risking breaking the delicate atmosphere. 

By the time you made it to him, your vision was blurry, and he was playing the last line of bars.

The arrangement floated into the placid, halcyon evening, each individual note rising like a star to join the thousands that looked on with bated breath, protecting this little moment of clement apotheosis.

His hands swept across the final few steps, barely touching the keys at all. The concluding tone resounded, fragile and silk-like, followed by a second of calm silence before the crowd erupted with cheers, hoots, and deafening applause.

Satoru rose from the bench, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you in for a deep kiss. It echoed in you, the sweetest lullaby, the happiest composition that could never be written down identically. It was one only the two of you could hear and feel, one only the two of you could dance, live, cry, laugh, breathe, and love to.

Of all the endings you ever tried to give that precious lullaby your grandmother had written so long ago, the one Satoru created was perfect.

Because you created it together.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

banner by cafekitsune ♥

[rookthorne]

Spooky Season is upon us! What is a better way to celebrate the spooks of Halloween then to imagine all the mischief we could make?

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑺

―  BUCKY BARNES  ―

֎  Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes + Bodyguard!Winter Soldier  —  Staya Volkov ֎  Farmer!Bucky Barnes  —  Peaches ‘n Cream Ranch ֎  Incubus!Bucky Barnes  —  Depths of Pleasure ֎  Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes  —  Sturdy Roots, Strong Hearts ֎  Monster!Bucky Barnes  —  Keeper ֎  Nurse!Bucky Barnes  —  A Hero ֎  Witcher!Bucky Barnes  —  Fate’s Gift

―  STUCKY  ―

֎  Firemen!Stucky  —  Built Differently

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑭𝑰𝑪 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻

10

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻

36,538

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺

—  The AO3 SERIES can be found HERE.

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺

This event is split into TWO sections. The first part is for the multichapter fic — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 — and the second part is for fics that belong in my collections.

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

— 𝐀  = angst — 𝐖  = whump — 𝐈 = sick fic — 𝐃  = dark — 𝐃² = dead dove — 𝐏 = poly — 𝐊 = kid fic — 𝐅  = fluff — 𝐒  = smut

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫 》 3 / 3

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 》 Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑺 》 Fluff, spicy tension/implied spice, consensual stalking, primal, knife play 》 Friends to lovers, first dates, Modern/Halloween AU

𝑩𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝑩𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

𝐅 • 3.6k

Rumours and tales had been spread of a character at the local Halloween Park that painted them in such a haunting light – they were a predator that even the bravest spook and adrenaline seekers feared, always alluding that he was far too ‘hardcore’ to trifle with.   Luckily for you, a target had been painted on your back, and you were about to experience one of the hardest escapes of your life.

𝑩𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒌

𝐅 • 5.0k

The mask that covered the Soldat both embodied the character and hid the man behind it, the cloak of his character so effective it was a shock when he cornered and isolated you, to ask you out on a date. Stranger things had happened, that you were sure of.

𝑨 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆

𝐅 • 3.2k

It had come time for the final chase. Halloween had loomed in the back of your mind, until the night finally came. The Soldat’s promise from your first encounter rang true as you prepared – a promise that terrified and excited you in equal measure.  Time would only tell, and you had to hope you were ready for the final hunt.

𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅, 𝑨𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅

Serial Killer AU 🕸 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐃 + 𝐃² 🕸 5.1k

PAIRING 》 Serial Killer!Winter Soldier x F!Reader WARNINGS 》 Swearing, angst, dark themes, DEAD DOVE, pet names, degradation and humiliation, depersonalisation, stalking/predatory behaviour, graphic depiction of background/side character death, gore and violence, panic attacks, physical violence and threats, coercion, choking, gagging/use of restraints, implied stockholm syndrome, ambiguous ending

The night from hell had only begun when you started seeing a shadow observing you; appearing in the corner of your vision as you partied and rounded up the stragglers to herd them out the door. You didn’t know that what lay ahead was a nightmare dreamed up from the depths of your worst fears, nor did you know that the night would be stained red by the hands of someone you couldn’t even fathom could stalk the earth.  You weren’t sure what would be better — becoming one of the fallen that painted the walls red to escape what awaited you, or rolling over and baring your throat in a plea for mercy.  There were no Gods to save you, nor knights in shining armour — if you were going to make it out alive, you would for damn sure have to fight for it.

𝑨 𝑹𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅

Witcher AU | 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 🕸 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐃 + 𝐃² 🕸 3.8k

It had been an ordinary day — nothing amiss, nor a cause for concern, not even the sudden appearance of soldiers in the local tavern. You should have known better, however, for fate had never left you in peace.

𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒏

Monster AU | 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 🕸 𝐀 + 𝐅 🕸 2.5k

The longing for home, for the traditions you had cultivated as you grew into the young woman that you were today, made you troubled. You were confused for how you had missed such a mundane existence, when you had started anew with the monster that lurked in the shadows. It was just lucky, however, that this monster – the one you loved with all of your heart — was a crafty trickster, and he knew just how to bring you cheer on the Eve of Samhain.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

Farmer AU | 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 ‘𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡 🕸 𝐅 🕸 1.2k

Bessie and Bubba, the centrepieces to your masterful plan, enjoyed the limelight and the pampering of your affections and attention on any normal day. Though, this once, it seemed the two of them sensed the importance of this singular occasion, and they were determined to give you a run for your money. 

𝑩𝒊𝒈 𝑩𝒂𝒅 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇

Incubus AU | 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 🕸 𝐒 🕸 3.4k

Little Red Riding Hood never stood a chance against the Big Bad Wolf, not when the wolf was a honed predator with skills he’d perfected over the centuries. A little game of chase would bring out the beast in your Incubus, and you just had to hope he’d kept some semblance of his charming self.

𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

Bodyguard AU | 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯 🕸 𝐅 🕸 1.2k

Bucky was a known troublemaker — he made it a habit to stir and cause mischief whenever it was possible. It was also known that the number one victim of such atrocities was James, the ever-stoic shadow of a man that put up with far too much, and then there was you; a hopeless bystander to the crimes that Bucky committed.  

𝑭𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑭𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔

Firefighter AU | 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 🕸 𝐅 🕸 2.5k

It was always a rocky road, establishing new traditions within a family. Naturally, the two men wouldn’t make it that hard, but they wouldn’t make it so easy, either — that did not mean that it would be any less fun, or any less messy, that was for sure.

𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒇𝒖𝒍

Lumberjack AU | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 🕸 𝐅 🕸 1.0k

You had always had the biggest Halloween and spooky spirit — every fall was a haven for you, and this year, you had the opportunity to harness the ultimate joy of surprising James when he came home after a long day. His reaction, however, left you speechless and stunned; wishing for every season to become fall. 

𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅

Nurse AU | 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 🕸 𝐅 + 𝐒 🕸 3.2k

Novelties came and went as the years passed — the phases of costumes and trends passed you by with as little care as the last, but not this year. You were determined to make this a surprise that would take Bucky by storm, especially if you reaped the rewards of it. 

[dogflowerz]

derek danforth the typa guy to listen to start listening to lady gaga because of fortnite festival

[mikodrawnnarratives]

I will have to get to other stuff as soon as I post this but I really wanted to post a few updates for the two main animatic projects I'm doing

@naffeclipse are you prepared? It's a lot

Cryptid Sightings Animation Meme: Other Stuff hehe

Sleuth Jesters Marriage Material:

HoO! Thats a lot. And I have more but for now I'll give you this as little hint of what I'm working on in my free time

[substantial-exposure]

-From the Desk of Phaedra Taraay -

The Tortured Sith'ari Department

[captainsophiestark]

The Best of the Best

Finn x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Star Wars

Day 26 Prompt: "Honestly, why would I care?"

Summary: Finn's not the first member of the First Order to defect, although he is the first Storm Trooper. An unexpected happy reunion comes when he first lands on a Resistance base.

Word Count: 1,475

Category: Fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst?

A/N: Disclaimer, I have not seen the Force Awakens in literal years

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"The Millennium Falcon just landed outside!"

"General Solo is on it, from the Rebellion!"

"It's got an ex-Storm Trooper on it!"

The shouts of my fellow Resistance members echoed around me as they shouted and gossiped about the recent touchdown of a ship. I wove my way through the crowd, keeping one hand on my blaster. I needed to be ready.

A few years ago, I'd been part of the First Order. More than that, I'd been responsible for training the Storm Troopers we took from birth, helping indoctrinate them into the system. I'd been younger or the same age as most of them, and watching them go off to die in a pointless war had jump started my realization that we were the bad guys.

Once the realization had fully settled in, I'd up and left without looking back. I found the Resistance through my now best friend Poe Dameron, and I'd had a lot of valuable information to share with them. I'd been here for almost four years now, and not once had I seen a Storm Trooper defect. So, when I heard everyone whispering in the hallways about one stepping on base, I went into immediate red alert.

I made it out to the tarmac and immediately I noticed the Falcon. The ship was impossible to miss. I quickly scanned the crowd between me and the ship, and my best friend's signature jacket jumped out at me amidst everything else. But Poe had lost that jacket on Jakku in the process of his escape from the First Order.

The guy with Poe's jacket had his back to me, but as I approached, he turned around. I froze in my tracks, my mouth dropping open a little.

FN-2187 stared back at me. I barely remembered most of the people who'd come through the ranks of the First Order under my training. They all blurred together, and the guilt over everything I'd done to uphold the dictatorship was too much for me to look back on all I'd done with any kind of regularity. But I knew the man standing a few yards from me, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I'd know him anywhere.

He was one of the first people I'd been completely responsible for training without supervision, when I was around the same age as the classes I trained. He'd been the first one I'd ever felt a connection with, the first one I'd ever let myself get close to. We'd been friendly, we'd been supportive and understanding of each others' mistakes despite the First Order trying to make us be anything but. Before Poe, he'd been the closest I'd ever come to a best friend.

Unfortunately for both of us, the First Order had noticed how close we'd been getting. We'd been ripped apart immediately, and I learned quickly not to get attached to any more of my trainees. I'd never seen my friend again.

Until now. Now, we were face to face again, on a Resistance base free from the reach of the First Order. The side of my mouth quirked up in a small smile, he beamed back at me, and that was all it took to have me running across the tarmac to him.

I jumped up and wrapped him in a tackle-hug, which he quickly returned. He wrapped his arms around me tight and spun me around, then buried his face in my neck as we came to a stop. I squeezed him tight, not wanting to let go lest this all turn out to be a dream. From the way he held me, I could tell he felt the same.

"Is this real?" he breathed. I huffed a hysterical laugh, a few tears sliding down my face.

"I sure hope so."

If both of us had had our way, I don't think either of us would've moved again for at least a few hours. But a certain pilot popped into my line of sight, a confused look on his face.

"Do you and Finn... know each other?"

"Finn!" I said, breathlessly happy as I pulled back to smile at the former Storm Trooper. "That's a great name."

"I think so too," he said, matching my smile. "Poe gave it to me."

I looked at Poe. He still seemed a little confused, but he had a proud look on his face all the same.

"You're really the top recruiter of defectors, aren't you?" I mused. He shot me a wink.

"Don't you forget it. Now come on, we have a fascist dictatorship to take down."

Finn and I shared a smile as Poe headed off into the crowd of the base. I sighed.

"We probably should follow him, huh?"

"I guess so. How long have you been here, though?"

"A few years," I replied. Finn looked shocked, so I continued. "I... couldn't stand watching the people I'd trained go off and die, killing a bunch of people in the process."

Finn nodded, sagging a little, shoulders slumping as he looked away for the first time since we'd found each other. I nudged him with my arm, suddenly insanely worried about him.

"Hey. What's wrong?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light. He huffed a humorless laugh and shook his head.

"It's nothing. It's just... I can't believe you've been here for so long. It took you a lot less time to realize how wrong we were than it took me."

My eyes went wide, shock nearly rocking me off my feet at his revelation. I quickly grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face me.

"Finn! Are you kidding me? I understand the guilt over our past, seriously, I do. But the fact that it took you a little longer than it took me means nothing. You were literally brainwashed from birth, something I was a part of! I didn't have that excuse, and I still served them for years."

Finn didn't look totally convinced, although his posture wasn't quite as slumped as before. I continued.

"Finn, I spent years convincing myself not to leave. I convinced myself not to care. Honestly, why would I care? It was all part of a righteous cause, canon fodder being expended killing bad guys trying to take down the government." I shook my head at myself in disgust. The fact that I'd ever believed that nonsense, that damaging propaganda, would haunt me for the rest of my life. Finn let his hand rest on my waist, giving it a gentle squeeze to comfort me, and I took a deep breath before continuing. "The realization that I was on the wrong side started long before I left, and I'll always regret the extra damage I did to the galaxy before listening to what I knew was right.

"But Finn, I went through all that as someone who grew up with a family, in school, with some varied viewpoints, although not many. You were told from birth that the First Order's morals, politics, and methods of enforcement were the one and only right way from almost the day you were born. And still you came to your own, different conclusion and left those sons of bitches behind, because you are that good of a person, Finn. That's... amazing."

I'd caught myself rambling, saying more than I'd maybe initially intended to, but I couldn't bring myself to regret it. I loved Finn, and the last thing I wanted was for him to put himself through any more pain than he'd already survived.

Finn laughed, a disbelieving sound, and the smile he gave me felt as bright and warm as the sun. I wasn't sure what I expected him to say, but I got a pleasant surprise when he finally did speak up.

"...Can I kiss you?"

"Hell yes."

We shared a beaming, happy smile, our first free smile, and then Finn leaned down and kissed me. He wrapped his arms around my waist again, pulling me to him as I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing in the middle of the runway without a care in the world who saw us. It didn't matter who saw us now. No one here would exploit us, or use one of us to hurt the other. We were free, together.

"Hey! I'm happy to see my two best friends making out and all, but we actually have things to do today, remember?"

Finn and I broke apart reluctantly, still smiling even as we turned to Poe, the interruption. He was right, unfortunately. In order to take the First Order down for good, to free the rest of the galaxy, we had a lot of work to do. But it didn't seem quite as daunting now that I had Finn.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

[helpinghanikan]

Star Wars: Kinktober

Day 29: Nudes (Finn)

Kinktober Masterlist

It took some time for Finn to get a handle on Resistance level technology. He was used to the old-world tech used by the First Order. With that older kind of codes and monitors that have to be smacked every now and then.

The Resistance had contacts within the republic, General Organa personally knew a few executives within tech industries. You and Poe had spent a little over an hour with both Finn and Rey going over everything. It was frustrating for everyone but, in the end, it was worth it.

Ping-ping

A subtle sound playing from your pad is always a nice distraction. It turns your eyes away from the miles of code you needed to decipher. If it weren’t for that little noise you probably would have gone absolutely bonkers by now.

‘I have about half an hour, and I miss you.’ The message from Finn read.

You’ve been at the code for awhile now, you might as well take a break too.

‘How much?’ You send back, leaving your desk for a bathroom break.

It took a personal class to teach Finn about nudes and sexting. Poe giving his own pointers to his best bud.

Ping-ping

Finn had gone back to his room. On the floor length mirror he’s taken off his shirt. Looking down to the pad he holds in front of himself. His nice smile more distracting than the healthy amount of abs and fat on his torso.

When he first escaped the first order Finn was raw muscle and was on the line of malnourishment. Real meals, good sleep, and people who actually care resulted in a healthy body and healthier mind. Now he was warmer to cuddle up to, stronger than before, and had an endurance the First order couldn’t make with their hatred.

Finn had yet to really learn the art of the tease. But teaching was half the fun.

Pulling up your shirt past your bra you take your own picture. Holding your shirt between your teeth and snapping the picture.

‘Feelings mutual, but you know what else I want.’

It’s an awkward few minutes waiting for him to respond. Just hanging out in a stall, waiting for a more proactive picture to help you get through the day.

Ping-ping

The next picture from Finn is exactly what you wanted. Him, lay back on his bed, pants open and pushed down past his thighs. The hard outline of his cock emphasized by his gray underclothes. The picture is taken from above him. It probably took a second for Finn to be able to get a proper picture with a pad.

That forces you to up your own game. Shirt completely removed, your own pants down to your ankles and an upward shot to show your entire body.

‘The day can’t end soon enough.’ You write. ‘Your room or mine?’

Ping-ping

The picture he send is tame as can be but is better than the others sent. He’s smiling in it, sitting up and emphasizing some liquor bought off of Rey the last time she had gone on a mission.

‘Mine, see you soon.’ He sends.

Your work has never been done faster.

[psychosith]

💜-hcs

💔-angst

💗-fluff

❤️‍🔥-smut

rey skywalker

nothing yet!

kylo ren

nothing yet!

armitage hux

nothing yet!

poe dameron

Just Admiring💗

finn

nothing yet!

[spamtondoingthings]

spamton clearing his throat instead of saying something to get your attention because he got stuck in the air vents and he’s embarrassed about it

[did-i-mention-the-shirt]

what if,,, the duckbook,,, came on wednesday's instead,,,

y'all will get part 1 in two days :)

(read the last tag)

[ad0rechuu]

۪ ᝰ ۫ MY OH MY ୨୧

based on my oh my by girls' generation

SYNOPSIS. ━━━━━ Yn finds out that her whole relationship has been a bet. To get over her heartache her best friend Sunwoo convinces her to take revenge.

How you might ask? By breaking the culprits heart right back of course!

10jun23 | st. 31/12/23 ━ fn. 01/07/24

pairing. ━━━━━ Best Friend! Kim Sunwoo x Fem! reader (x Choi Yeonjun)

featuring. ━━━━━ the boyz members, kim chaewon, txt members + mentions of other idols

genre. ━━━━━ smau + written: humor/crack / fluff / angst / suggestive / childhood friends to lovers / college au / revenge relationship / relationship based on bet / slight slow burn

warnings. ━━━━━ timestamps/sm numbers/hair colors mean nothing, sexism/slutshaming, crude humor (kys jokes), mentions of & illusions to of food/sex/drugs/alcohol/cheating/mental illness, use of pictures of yn but only for reference, yn is a sone (snsd fan). more thorough warnings in the actual chapters, please let me know if missed something. this story doesn’t describe the idols in real life and is written with a dark skinned poc in mind!

notes. ━━━━━ the taglist is open, send an ask to be added. spam likes are fine but consider reblogging with comments of ur thoughts (not only on my work but on other authors work too! credits to the rightful owners of all the graphics. i’m not a native english speaker! and thank you to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <3

( please give this story lots of love & check out my masterlist )

PROFILES. ━━━━━ SONES INCORPORATED ᜊ DA HOMIEZ ᜊ MORE COOL KIDS ᜊ THE PLAYLIST

STEP 1. GET OVER HIM ›

ᝰ CH 000. prologue: THE NEXT BET

ᝰ CH 001. I H8 MEN

ᝰ CH 002. DON’T BREAK UP WITH THAT LOSER

ᝰ CH 003. THE PLAN

ᝰ CH 004. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

ᝰ CH 005. *INSERT EVIL LAUGHTER*

ᝰ CH 006. ANNOYING BRAT FOR SALE

ᝰ CH 007. DON'T WORRY YOUR PRETTY BIG HEAD

ᝰ CH 008. NOT OVER HIM

ᝰ CH 009. CLASSIC SUNWOO-YN-BFF-DATE

ᝰ CH 010. THE NERVE AND THE AUDACITY

STEP 2. MAKE HIM FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU ›

ᝰ CH 011. STEP UP MY GAME

ᝰ CH 012. SASSY CAT EMOJI

ᝰ CH 013. A NIGHT ON THE TOWN W/ YN & WOO

ᝰ CH 014. GOOD NIGHT

ᝰ CH 015. HOBBIES FOR SUNWOO

ᝰ CH 016. GRAND DISCOVERY (YN HAS AN IDEA)

ᝰ CH 017. JUNS UNAPPROACHABLE AND COLD GF

ᝰ CH 018. HANGING OUT WITH MY BFS FRIENDS

ᝰ CH 019. BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF

ᝰ CH 020. DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME

STEP 3. BREAK HIS HEART ›

ᝰ CH 021. CODE ORANGE

ᝰ CH 022. I FUCKED UP

ᝰ CH 023. HITCH IN THE ROAD

ᝰ CH 024. CONSIDER AND MAKE SURE

ᝰ CH 025. WHAT MAKES THE HEART GROW WHAT?

ᝰ CH 026. BALLOON FLOWERS

ᝰ CH 027. REJECTION + ANEURYSM = WENT WELL

ᝰ CH 028. MAKEUP

ᝰ CH 029. BALLOON FLOWERS VERSUS ROSES

ᝰ CH 030. MINE (HIS)

ᝰ CH 00I. epilogue: A PEAK IN SUNYN’S LOVE

ᝰ CH 0II. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT

ᝰ AFTER WORD

special thanks (& follow these awesome ppl). ━━━━━ to @yuyusuyu @kodzumo @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @seonghwaddict @felixsramen : i have to give you six an extra special thanks because you all motivated and supported me so much while i was stressing and being annoying, just so you know guys are my motivation! (the other message is also to you all ofc)

and to @yunstarz @nyukyujs @rieuvie @thelargefrye @i-luvsang @cybrsan @gyumibear @pocketjoong @jaehunnyy @nebulousbrainsoup @justhere4kpop @xpixie @atinycafe @brrrkdslek @phantom-webber @a1sh1teruu @starryunho @aestheticsluut @end0rchans @yourfatherlucifer @alixnsuperstxr @girls4cheol @cheollipop @mintgki @aoi-turtle @renstears @42e15 @alixnsuperstxr @mrowwww @hwaightme @paradiqms @starrysvn @tubatu-wari-wari @kitten4sannie @chokchokk @hee0soo @joong-of-gold @armysantiny @evilsailorsenshi @mundayoonimnida @aapplepii @juhakutie : first of all i don’t expect you to read or interact with this fic, you might not even stan the boyz or like this sorta thing but i tagged you all because of one reason and one reason only; to tell you that you all make tumblr such a lovely and inspirational place for me, whenever i see ur accs it brightens my day because i know what great ppl are behind them, i just wanted to say that i think that you are amazing and i want to use this post to thank you! happy new years and i love you everyone (and you who’s reading this)

my oh my © ad0rechuu, 2023. do not copy/repost.

[msschemmenti]

Blabbermouth Junior

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Prompt: Reader is Henry’s Fifth Grade teacher and at his graduation he puts a little plan into action

JJ smiled softly as she smoothed the tiny gown over her son’s shoulders. She really couldn’t believe her first kid was heading to middle school. It felt like just yesterday a nurse had handed him over in a hospital room. Time flew, and she was honestly just so grateful to experience these moments with him. After ensuring the team wouldn’t have any cases this weekend, she and the team were all piling into the Elementary school gymnasium to watch one of their BAU kids move on to their next step.

“Oh Henry, you look so cute. I can’t believe you’re going to middle school. My baby.” JJ pouted as she smoothed her hands over the boy’s head. 

“Mom,” Henry whined but allowed his mom the freedom to fawn over her son. He looked around at his classmates a bit self-consciously but secretly loved having his mother there with him on such a big day. 

“Alright, friends! Let’s tell our families ‘see you later’ and start lining up.” A cheery voice called over the room, drawing everyone’s attention. JJ followed the sound of the voice and was shocked to see a young woman dressed in yellow at the end of the hallway. Her arms were extended toward the children in the hall and she had the kindest smile JJ had ever seen. All the other children hurried down the hallway toward the gym and as much as Henry wanted to follow, JJ’s hands had yet to leave his face. 

Garcia, who’d come to the back to snap pictures of her godson, studied JJ closely. She watched how the blondes eyes shifted from the woman’s face to her legs and quickly back. She definitely didn’t miss the way she was still holding Henry’s face either. With a knowing smirk she nudged JJ and looked down at Henry with a smile. “Hen, is that your teacher?” 

“Yeah, Ms. Y/Ln is the best.” Henry grinned up at Penelope before looking over his shoulder to the smiling teacher. 

“I bet so. Sweet, you’ve gotta stop staring at the cute teacher so the boy can go line up.” Garcia grinned, practically shoving JJ out of admiration. She scoffed indignantly before smoothing her hands over Henry’s hair one last time and letting him go. 

“I wasn’t staring at the cute teacher. I just can’t believe my baby is growing up.” JJ fumbled for words. Garcia rolled her eyes in disbelief but pinched Henry’s cheek affectionately. 

“Henry? You ready, bud?” Ms.Y/Ln asked as she sidled up to the three blondes left in the hallway. 

“Yes ma’am, if my mom is ready to let me go…” Henry teased causing JJ to roll her eyes and the other two women to laugh. 

“Awe, Henry be nice to your mom. Graduating fifth grade is a big deal. Pretty soon you’ll be off to college.” Ms. Y/Ln spoke pulling the graduation hat from her side on Henry’s head and allowing him to sprint down the hall toward the other students.. 

“Oh don’t remind me, I’m going to be even worse then.” JJ whined, placing her hand over her heart. 

“Let’s take it one day at a time sweet. I’ll take the emotional mother out to the gym so we can watch our little man walk the stage. So sorry for the hold up, Miss?” Garcia asked sweetly. 

“Oh where are my manners, I’m Ms. Y/Ln, Y/Fn Y/Ln.” The teacher smiled extending her hand briefly toward the tech analyst. 

“Penelope Garcia, the Godmother of all Godmothers. And this is Jennifer Jareau, Henry’s super mom.” 

“It’s great to meet you both. I’ve heard quite a bit about you Mrs. Jareau, Henry’s very fond of you.” Y/n smiled, sending JJ a wink. 

“Miss,” JJ corrected unconsciously. “And I can say the same about you. He’s been raving about you all year long, it’s really nice to finally put a face to a name.” 

Y/n smiled sweetly in thanks before looking to her watch for the time, “That warms my heart. We’re gonna get started in about a minute and I don’t want y’all to miss anything. I’ll remind Henry to smile real big when he walks.” 

“That would be great, come on Jayje I need to make sure Morgan got us good seats. Nice chatting with ya Teach!” Garcia called over her shoulder pulling JJ down the hall and toward the gym. JJ sent the teacher an apologetic smile before allowing Garcia to lead her to the ceremony. Both women squeezed through the other parents and family members to sit in their seats between the team. 

“There you guys are, what took so long?” Emily asked leaning over to look at the two women. 

“JJ was ogling Henry’s teacher.” Garcia answered. All heads turned to face the mother in a combination of shock and intrigue. 

“I was not ogling.” JJ protested. 

“Oh she so was. Just wait until you see her, you’ll all understand.” Garcia grinned as everyone chuckled at JJ’s expense. 

-

“Congratulations Henry!” Y/n smiled down at the boy as he rushed into the classroom. 

“Thank you Ms. Y/Ln.” Henry grinned up at the teacher. He’d always been pretty fond of his teacher. She really made the transition to fifth grade so easy for him and he was surely gonna miss her. 

“Are you excited to be going to middle school?” Y/n asked as she watched and waved at parents and children exiting the room.

“Yeah, I guess.” Henry answered. 

“You don’t sound too sure bud. What’s up?” Y/n asked squatting next to the the desk the boy was sitting on. 

“I’m just gonna miss having you as my teacher.” Henry confessed. 

“Well I get that kid, they probably won’t be as cool as me. But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I’ll have any students as cool as you either.” Y/n teased ruffling his blonde hair maternally. Henry grinned at the praise and kicked his feet from the desk. 

“There’s our graduate!” Morgan called entering into the classroom. The remaining children and parents turned to watch as the team of Profilers filed in with gifts. They all scooped up the young boy with congratulations flying around. Y/n slowly floated over to her desk to give the group some privacy. 

As the team fawned over Henry, JJ found herself searching for Ms. Y/Ln unconsciously. As subtle as she thought she was being, she knew she was caught when Emily siddled up next to her sporting a knowing smirk. “She is pretty cute. I see why you were ogling.” 

“Oh God, not you too.” JJ groaned turning away from the teacher. 

“I’m just saying, she’s no longer Henry’s teacher and from what I’ve heard– Henry is pretty fond of her as well. Wouldn’t hurt to at least talk to her.” Emily encouraged. 

Before JJ could even respond, Henry was at her feet with a smile on his face. “Mom can I give Ms. Y/Ln the gift I got her before we leave?” 

“Of course honey,” JJ smiled fishing the card and candy out of her purse and handing it to Henry. 

“I’ll be quick.” He promised and then made a beeline for the teacher’s desk. “Ms. Y/Ln, I got you this gift and just wanted to give it to you before I left.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in glee as she took the card and candy from one of her favorite students, “Oh Henry, that’s so sweet. Thank you so much and you remembered my favorite candy.”  

“Yeah my mom let me buy it.” Henry answered. By now JJ had turned her attention to the two and was making her way over to them slowly. 

“Well that’s very sweet of her.” Y/n said catching JJ’s movement in her peripheral. 

“She also thinks you’re cute.” Henry threw in causing both Y/n’s and JJ’s eyes to widen comically. JJ was so shocked she even stopped walking briefly. 

Y/n blushed and giggled, “Oh?” 

JJ jumped into action and placed her hands on Henry’s shoulders before he could continue speaking. JJ and Y/n’s eyes locked and the embarrassment was burning behind both of their eyes. “Henry…” JJ sighed with a grimace. She went to deny and save face but she could hear Emily’s voice in the back of her head. It was already out, what was the harm in at least talking to her? “Well, I’d hoped I could tell you myself but Henry seems to have beat me to it.”

“Someone had to say it.” Garcia piped in from the group now listening. 

“Shut up Garcia.” JJ grumbled. “Henry go hang with the team.” 

“Of course mom.” Henry grinned going over to stand with Penelope, who highfived him in triumph. 

“Well Ms. Jareau, I’m extremely flattered. Even if Henry told me first.” Y/n smiled and leaned her head on her fist. 

JJ blushed a bit and ducked her head, “God I love that kid.” 

“He is rather special. Oh and if it wasn’t clear, I find you pretty cute as well.” JJ’s head popped up in shock and the blush returned with a vengeance. Y/n grabbed a sticky note from her desk and scribbled her number down. “Summers here and from what I’ve heard you’re pretty busy. How bout you give me a call when your free? I’d love to get to know you a bit better.” 

The group of profilers very childishly whistles and ‘oooo’ at the interaction and JJ could only roll her eyes before accepting the number with a promise to use it. They all said their goodbyes and just as they were about to exit the school JJ pulled her son into her side. 

“You don’t mind any of that with Ms. Y/Ln right? Cause if you do I won’t–” Before she could finish Henry wrapped her arm around her waist. 

“Oh I’m excited. I thought of the plan before the graduation started but I didn’t know if it’d work.” Henry grinned. 

“God I love you kid.” JJ sighed  and pulled him toward the car. Middle School is not ready for her boy.

[delulu-baddie]

too sorry too late

A/N This is part 2 to girl in the mirror so if you haven't read that yet, make sure to check it out. Thank you guys so much for all of the positive feedback I got on the first part. I hope you enjoy.

Summary Paige comes back to make things right before realizing she's too late

Warnings Lots of swearing

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Paige’s POV

 I don’t know why I've been acting this way, I just want everything to go back to how it was in the beginning, when we were planning our future together and genuinely happy. I went to the gym to go shoot some baskets to cool off some after walking out after that fight. I don't know what I was thinking, I know that those things aren't true about y/n and I also know that she's been going through a hard time recently and here I am putting her down even more. I love her really, but I've been doing a shitty job of showing it. Spending nights partying with friends after promising her I would spend time with her and refusing to talk to her when she would bring up the things I did that was hurting her. I would never cheat on her and I know I shouldn’t have taken that receipt, I was well aware of what that waitress was trying to do, I just didn’t know how to react to it so I just crumbled it up and threw it in my pocket completely forgetting about it.  I never had any intentions on calling her but when y/n started making assumptions about my intentions I just added more fuel to the fire. I need to go back home and fix this right now, fix us right now before it's too late. 

Before heading back I stopped at the store and picked up some of her favorite flowers. It's something small but I need her to know that I'm trying. I think the store owner could tell that I was going through it because she ended up giving me a discount on the bouquet which doesn't usually happen. I hopped back in the car and sped back home to make this right with my girl and let her know how much I love and appreciate her. She's been there for me through it all. When I got hurt sophomore year she sat there with me through my whole recovery time period, came to all of my physical therapy appointments, just to show me that she's here to support me, and here I was not even giving her the reassurance that she's the only girl that I want, the one that I8 want to spend the rest of my life with. 

I park the car and walk up to the front door taking a deep breath before walking in. I noticed that all of the lights were off, so I'm assuming that she fell asleep after I left. I quietly make my way to the room and quickly notice that she's not there. Maybe she was on the couch and I missed her, I think to myself. I walk back over to the living room and realize she's not there. I walk back to our bedroom to see if she's in the bathroom and quickly notice the necklace I gave her tonight sitting neatly on my nightstand. That was enough to make my heart drop to my stomach. I quickly grab my phone and dial her number, but I get sent straight to voicemail, I call six times, and get sent to voicemail every time. I decided to text her to make sure she's okay and immediately noticed the text bubble turned green. “SHIT” I yell out, not caring if my neighbors hear. I fucked up badly this time and I need to figure out a way to bring her back.

It’s almost midnight and I should give her some time but I can't let her leave. I quickly grab my keys and make my way to my car, figuring she's at her best friend y/fn’s house and make my way over there. The drive is short, mainly due to the fact of me speeding well over the limit trying to get there as quickly as possible. My heart is racing and I have tears running down my face just trying to figure out how I could let things get this bad.I see her car parked outside, which is a good sign, at least I know she okay and  I make my way out of the car and knock on the door which gets opened my y/f/n. “What do you want, Paige?” she asked me with a clearly annoyed look on her face. “ I just want to speak to her” I say to her  “please” I beg, my voice cracking slightly. “She doesn't want to sp-” she starts before getting cut off by y/n “Its fine, just give me a minute, i'll be right back” y/n says before stepping outside shutting the door behind her. I take a good look at her, her eyes are puffy signifying she had been crying. 

 “So?” she asks with no expression on her face. “ Look, I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, I know what I said hurt you and I also know that none of it is true” I begin “ you should be able to come to me with your problems and I should be there to comfort you, not bring you down like I have been. I miss us, the real us, the ones that would stay up well past the time we should be awake, just talking and sharing small kisses. I'm aware that I messed up, and you don't have to accept my apology, but I need to get it out before I lose you for good. I promise you I'll change, I'll do better and I'll treat you how you should be treated. I love you, I have for the past two years, I want to marry you some day and start a little family together. Please just give me the chance to make things right.” I ramble, grabbing her hand. “Paige, I appreciate the apology, but it's already too late. These last few months have been miserable for me, and it was because of you.” she says starting to tear up “I would give anything to go back to the way we were, but I can't take anymore. I've changed, I barely look like myself anymore. I'm constantly getting torn down by you, we can't even have a conversation without it turning into some sort of altercation. I'm sorry but I don't see myself being with someone who acts like this, let alone having children with them.”

I looked at her hoping she would see in my face how sorry I was. After a minute of silence I break down, sitting on the curb crying into my hands. She sits down next to me, putting her hand on my back. “You're not a bad person Paige, you just started going down the wrong path, and I know one day you're going to find someone that you can love and treat right, but I can't sit here waiting for you to become that person.” she says looking over at me. I lift my head and wrap my arms around her crying into her shoulder “I'm so sorry” I sob into her shoulder. “I know you are, but this is for the best, I need to learn to love myself before I can love someone else, and I have you to thank for making me realize that.” she says lifting my  head off her shoulder to make me look at her. “This is for the best. I can't love you more than I love myself, not anymore” she says with a frown on her face. I've always hated seeing her sad, which is why any time we fought I would leave, because I couldn't cope with the fact that I was causing the love of my life to experience pain, but now I've lost her for good and there's nothing else that I can do about it.

“I love you” I say to her, grabbing her and pulling her into one last hug with a kiss on her forehead. “I love you too” she says before separating away and walking back into the house, giving me a small wave and closing the door. I run my hands down my face walking back towards my car, taking in what just happened. I lost the best person to come in my life, I ruined her and made her feel like she didn’t matter to me. I'm not sure how I'm going to get over this, and I hope that one day we can at least be friends, but I need to give her space and allow her to grow without me, and hopefully find someone who appreciates her the way that I should have.

[lazypanartist]

Hobie Brown x Artistic/DIY Reader

I love him 💙

pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Warnings: maybe spoilers for ATSV, IDK. Reader's in the punk scene and from Hobie's universe. Whole lotta projection. Canon-typical injuries

Features info dumping and personal Hobie HCs I guess. It's long ASF. And just self indulgent

Please RB, likes alone don't do anything for the algorithm!

-----

DIY/punk Hobie Brown

If you're in the scene, you know the basics

Patches?

Hand-Stitched

Usually with dental floss for durability/cost efficiency

And originally painted with white-out for the same reasons

Spikes or studs?

Cheap, bulk buy, screw em on yourself

Or just make em out of cans

Hobie's fit looks like it fits the bill

Old leather or denim jacket with the sleeves cut off

FN/SM painted on the back

Shirt's kinda tattered iirc

Spiked collars are easy

Same with the wristbands

When he meets you?

Whoo boy

It was one of his shows he was putting on

New songs, new faces in the crowd

He spots you from a distance at first

Little sketchbook in hand

You stay through his whole performance

When he's chatting up the crowd afterwards, though?

You're already gone

(Bitch writes a song about the pretty thing watching from afar, bc ofc he does)

He next sees you during one of President Osborne's speeches

Standing in the front row of a gathered crowd, shaking your head at the screen

He drops down after a few minutes, hanging upside down and blocking the less-than-pleasant view

He takes a few moments between questions from others

Little explanations

A promise to do what he can

Takes just a glimpse to look you over

You have a similar touch to the rest of the crowd

Worn out boots, tattered clothes, hand-sewn and painted patches

And your sketchbook still in hand

It's a little peculiar for the crowd

But he doesn't question it

What he does question is where you've gone after he turns to look at you

He only took a second for more reassurances

But when he goes to see you again

You're gone, just like the first time you caught his eye

He realizes then

That he's intrigued

He doesn't know what it is about you

Until he keeps seeing you pop up again

Riots

Concerts

Shows

Speeches

His immaterial object of interest

He finally starts actually talking to you the third or fourth time he sees you

At another of Osborne's liefests

An ambassador on a stage, surrounded by punks

Speaking of the President's virtues

Yeah

Spider-Punk shows up pretty quickly to run him off

And gets to chatting with you

When he first approaches, you ask for his opinion on a patch idea

And turn your sketchbook to show him the page

His spider symbol backpiece

But instead of FN/SM, it simply states

"Down With President Osborne"

He takes your pen and signs as a seal of approval before swinging away

Sure, it was a short interaction

But it led to even more meaningful ones

Like, say..

Him practically dropping out of the sky into a park

You were just minding your business, sketching the scenery

When he almost fell on top of you.

Covered in injuries

He laughs when he looks up and sees that it's you

Because of course it's you

Tries to resist when you start futzing over him

If you're the parent friend like me?

Patch him up

PLEASE

Even if you can't see him back together

Just

Bandaids and gauze pads

And maybe some candy

Bc suckers help with creativity

Or it's just my neurodivergence? Idk

Just. Offer him one in case he needs to bite on something while you're putting alcohol on his injuries

When you're done he looks them over

Promptly winces when he twists his arm 🙄

But then thanks you for your help and swings off

Again

These kinds of interactions become common

He'll find you hanging around the city

Either doodling or just vibing

And drops down to talk for a bit

Or get patched up

Loves when you offer to fix his costume

Bc it looks just as nice & homemade as the rest of your/his fits

Grins under his mask when he sees a new patch or two

And starts snickering if you deny their application

He really appreciates everything you do for him

And figures he should prove it

Sure, he's saved you

But he's saved a lot of people..

He wants this to be special

Unique

And he thinks he knows how to do that..

---

Click for next part