#Cheer!evelyn

[cheerleaderman]

Evelyn Franklin

Basic info

Age: 16

She/her

Height: 165 cm

Birthday: October 25th

Hometown: ???

Class: 1-C

Dorm: Diasomnia

Dominant hand: Left

Nickname: zombie, Eve, patches, viperfish (Floyd)

Favorite food: lollipops, gummy worms, pudding

Like/hobbies: walking, sewing, dogs, abandoned places, fun patterns, dolls , books , horror stories

Dislike: bitter medicine, pranks that go to far

Family: Father

Best subject: Alchemy

Talent: sewing, finding the right parts for stuff , sneaking out

(more under cut)

More info

Her mother left when she was 2 leaving her with her controlling father who usually keeps her in the house. She spend most of her time playing with dolls and reading books. He father would also make her study a lot of things pertaining to science and medicine

Her only friend was the family dog named Ghost he was supposed to be more like a guard dog but her father saw him as to friendly.Ghost sadly passed away when she was 14

When she got older she was allowed a little bit more freedom and would walk around the neighborhood but was kind a wary about talking to others until she met someone who would become her best friend. She would start sneaking out when ever she could sometimes giving her father sleep medicine

Her scars are due to an accident that happened when she was 12

Others think she’s kinda weird giving that it looks like she’s zoned out when very focused but others don’t know she has been listening to everything

she doesn’t talk much about her family and taking the opportunity to learn about the world at NRC

Has a soft voice

A future friend of Flori

[fleuraimer]

hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.

wc: 1.6k

cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.

Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…

They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.

Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.

Well, maybe a few things.

Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).

They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.

One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.

Two, he loved to take care of her.

So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.

It was fucking perfect.

One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.

Like now.

The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.

So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).

———

Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.

As if anyone else could do what he does for her.

“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.

Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.

She needed a good cry.

“My little pillow princess, yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”

She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).

Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.

Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).

The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?

Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.

She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.

Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.

“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.

Oh? She wanted to order him around?

“Please.”

Oh. Guess not.

“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.

She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.

“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”

“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.

How precious.

“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”

She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.

“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”

Y/N does not need to be told twice.

One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.

They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.

He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.

And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.

“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.

He gives her one, anyway.

“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.

“Huh?”

“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”

Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.

“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.

It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.

…Oh well.

So be it.

“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.

“Daddy’ll make it take.”

[arrowheadedbitch]

I'm watching Three Cheers For Evil with my gf, and when Benny recognizes the magic symbol for immortality in Grandma's yearbook, I pointed out to her how it was ridiculous that *she* never noticed it yet Benny knew it from memory already and she shot back with a take that made me gasp holy shit,

Benny recognizes the symbol because he WANTS to be immortal and his grandma doesn't really think of it that much so she hasn't really looked at it twice

Aajdjdhajfjjrjdufjsjfkdjdkdj omg such a good take @mac-cheez I love you

[cafemilk-tea]

Mingyu ripping evies tights and fucking her hard and slow

ANON???????!/!$-$/&/&&/&/&/&/!:!/$/&/&;$!,!;&:@/@;&,!:&&:!,!:&:!,&:&:

‼️nsfw under the cut 🔞 minors dni ‼️

alright gather round and listen up 🤭🤭 he has her laid out on the kitchen table, skirt left on and they just go to town. evie’s whining bc those were a pair of her favorite tights and gyu’s promises of him buying all the tights in the world and he fucks her so slow they’re both feeling like they’re in absolute heaven …. that is until one particular word evie mutters flips the switch and the rest is history….

[tired-reader-writer]

Doctor Elise: The Mystery of the Dead Prince

So, in Doctor Elise, Minchester de Romanoff actually had one daughter and three sons, not two.

But one of them died, fairly recently, at that. The way he's referred to as “the first royal prince” would suggest that he's the eldest, because Mikhail who was the youngest of the three is the third prince. So wouldn't this guy have been the heir to the throne before he died?

Also, why would the Emperor need to mourn in secret. It's his son. His eldest. Why wouldn't he be allowed to mourn.

The four imperial children in their childhood. The girl is Evelyn,

To contextualize the family situation, Minchester has two wives. Rebecca (a commoner) and Marianne (a noble, who is also the aunt of Yulian and Albert). Marianne, who was jealous of Rebecca, used her faction to frame the latter for a crime she didn't commit, and Rebecca was imprisoned while Minchester scrambled to clear her name. For some reason Evelyn, an entire CHILD, was also imprisoned alongside her mother. They committed suicide after an unspecified amount of time, giving into despair. It couldn't have been that long though, since they look the same age as when they were first imprisoned.

Linden wants revenge towards Marianne and her faction for this, because he'd witnessed them jump to their deaths.

So, what does that have to do with anything?

Well, take a look at this family.

This is the father, Minchester. Blond hair, golden eyes.

This is Marianne, Mikhail's mother. Blond hair, violet eyes. (Also how she ended up in this state, no explanation is given in the narrative, which unfortunately would become a trend.)

We know Mikhail has blond hair and golden eyes.

Rebecca. Black hair, blue eyes.

Evelyn. Black hair, golden eyes.

We know Linden has black hair and golden eyes.

Take a look at this mysterious unnamed son. Eye color unknown, but he has black hair.

So he can't be Marianne's son.

That means he's Rebecca's son.

What does he think of his mother and sister's death? What was his relationship with Linden after the incident? What sort of role does he play in Linden's revenge plan? Does he support it? Condemn it? Who even knows! He's mentioned One (1) time, cameos in the background a little bit, and never impacts Linden's character or the story as a whole.

What about your brother, Linden????

Like, you could cut this character out of the story with zero loss. Zero! Nada! None! Why did the author plunk him in in the first place??? What does he contribute??? Linden never thinks of his brother, Mikhail never thinks of his half-brother, Minchester never thinks of his son, wtf is this!!!! He doesn't even have the excuse of having died too long ago— not that it's a good exfuse and it's not like Rebecca and Evelyn suffer from this problem— he died literally two years ago.

Elise never thinks of him. Nobody anywhere at any time ever thinks of him. Why is he even here??? What is his purpose???????

[lozerzeno]

Why is Caleb and Evelyn so Three cheers for sweet revenge coded

[totaleclipse573]

First of all Total, let me make it 100% crystal clear that YOU ARE LOVED!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you feel better soon, so I am here to offer my services to talk. :) Here's a few questions for ya.

What are the favorite foods of your OCs?

In the Clone AU, does anyone else besides Shadow and Tails (I think) know Eclipse is a Clone?

Do you have any headcanons about Starline and his past? :]

🥺This made me smile <3 Thanks sm

The favorite foods for each of them? That's quite the list...

Terios - Loves both mac n cheese and cookies. Not at the same time though....possibly

Doleon? Hmm...he'd like meaty stuff, of course. Not sure what specifically...he also just eats rocks /gen

The Chaos Sibs (who I need to talk about more) are all different. Sky likes biscuits, Rose loves cupcakes (specifically chili chocolate cupcakes, pyrokinesis gives her a reaaaally high spice tolerance level in general,) Zoom is a simple boy. Peanut butter sandwich.

Penny loves pizza, Evelyn probably likes poundcakes with whipped cream, and I think Pollux would try those mini zebra cakes and go starry eyed (possibly literally)

2nd question? Yeah, others know. Rouge and Omega, of course, maybe Sonic? At one point? Remember how Clip hadn't gotten to meet anyone in this au. He wasn't redeemed, so for example, if Sonic were to find out, he'd know from others that this was a clone, but uh. What's up with the original you speak of. There was one, apparently! (Also, if we're counting the au of the au, then Starline, too. Bc ofc that happened 🤭)

And the last one. Ohhhhh yes I do. A few silly and one not so silly.

I'm going to assume that by "past," you mean when he was younger, hopefully I'm right 😅

The obvious theatre kid headcanon that is basically canon by this point

Starline isn't his name. It's his last name. He's called Dr. STARLINE. That means its his last name and I will not be changing my mind. What is his first name, I have to know. Give me answers Sega, before I headcanon Perry (this is relevant I promise look : it's probably something he hated so much that he went to great lengths to never reference it ever again in adulthood)

He wasn't really.....cared about. Didn't get much attention. Ever. And it lead him to, in the future, do anything to get the approval of his idol. He's so dedicated to prove that he can and WILL succeed, by any means possible. He HAS potential, and NOBODY CARES. (When character no backstory or explanation for their actions, I give backstory and explanation for their actions. Simple as that.)

He was 100% The Weird Kid™

I've seen most of the interpretations of his past have him come from a wealthy family. I like to think they were literally just normal, and his eggman fanboy-ism happened after witnessing an attack nearby. He's totally normal guys. The place is on fire yeah yeah whatever but look at the TECH on those things

Haven't thought about it much since the single brainburst all of this came from, but there you go!

[legendaryevokercupcake]

Evelyn Bright, to David Blindman: *Points to plate* Isn’t that your third plate?

Jack Bright, choosing violence: *Points to Prometheus* Isn’t that your third husband?

[evelyn-the-archivist]

🕸Click.

ARCHIVIST

Do I read it out loud, or is it fine to just read it in my head?

JULIA

In your head? Why would that do anything?

ARCHIVIST

Mh. Some books are more powerful than others.

TREVOR

I mean, I'd consider this one pretty powerful.

ARCHIVIST

Fair point. Different kind of powerful, then.

JULIA

Yeah. Definitely feels like a separate thing from Trevor's vampires, or your knowledgey whatever.

ARCHIVIST

It is.

[BRIEF SILENCE]

JULIA

Ah, just give us a knock when you're done.

ARCHIVIST

Of course.

[DEPARTING FOOTSTEPS]

Ahem.

"His-"

[INCREDULOUS] His? Damn it, Gertrude. At least use the right pronouns for them when you inscribe their death onto a page made of their own skin in a cursed book.

"His consciousness faded in and out like the tide. He tried to refuse their drugs, though for what purpose even he could not have said. Perhaps he was simply trying to push away the smell of disinfectant and grief that rose from his hospital bed. She was there sometimes, the one he had followed around the world. There was almost sadness in her eyes. He felt himself begin to slip, the icy certainty of what was happening seeping through his flesh, and as he fell away for the final time, he felt that all-consuming fear. And his only thought was to cry out for his mother. But with the last vestige of his stubborn will, he refused. She would not claim his last moment. He was silent.

[OMINOUS RUMBLE WITH A SIDE OF CRACKLING RISES TO CRESCENDO]

And so Gerard Keay ended.”

GERARD

Evelyn? The hell?

ARCHIVIST

[SOFTLY] Hi, Gerry. Been a while, huh?

GERARD

[SURPRISED] Yeah. It- it has. Did you know?

ARCHIVIST

About what she did to you? Of course I didn't. I would've stopped her, which is probably why she didn't tell me.

GERARD

How is the old hag, anyhow?

ARCHIVIST

Well, she's gotten pretty well acquainted with Terminus in the past year, I'd say.

GERARD

Damn. What finally did her in?

ARCHIVIST

I think... Elias?

GERARD

[LAUGHS INSINCERELY] Fucking perfect. That's a satisfying conclusion if there ever was one.

ARCHIVIST

A satisfying conclusion, hm?

GERARD

Who's her replacement, then? Sasha?

ARCHIVIST

[QUIETLY] No. It's- it's me.

GERARD

...Oh.

ARCHIVIST

I wasn't the first pick, though. Some skeptic named Jon Sims was put in before me and lasted all of seven months.

GERARD

Wow. Elias really dropped the ball on that one, huh?

ARCHIVIST

Who knows? Maybe it was on purpose. Elias may not be a Weaver, but he definitely has his plots.

GERARD

I hated that bastard. It's not enough to be evil, he has to be a smug dickhead about it.

ARCHIVIST

Careful, wouldn't want him to see you saying that.

Er- as nice as it is to catch up, I actually wanted to talk to you about something important.

GERARD

Big surprise.

ARCHIVIST

You worked a lot closer with Gertrude than I did, right? Is there anything you can tell me about the Unknowing that I wouldn't already know?

GERARD

[SIGHS] Straight to business, huh?

ARCHIVIST

I'm sorry, Gerry. You know that's just how our lives are.

GERARD

You call this a life? Not only does being a part of a damn Leitner hurt like hell, I get the fucking pleasure of being a bloody monster manual for the Van Helsings out there.

ARCHIVIST

Is there... is there anything I can do?

GERARD

Rip me out of the book. I'll tell you what I can about the Unknowing, then when you get back to the Institute you burn my page.

[SOUND OF PAPER RIPPING]

[GERARD INHALES SHARPLY]

ARCHIVIST

Done.

GERARD

[CHUCKLES] No hesitation at all, huh?

ARCHIVIST

Not for a friend.

GERARD

...Thank you.

Alright, so Gertrude and I did a lot of busywork trying to figure it out. She figured that since so many aspects of it were replaceable, it couldn't actually be stopped beforehand, just delayed. But once it actually started, it could be vulnerable.

ARCHIVIST

To?

GERARD

Dunno. But she thought she had something that could do it.

ARCHIVIST

Do you know where I could find it?

GERARD

Not long before I ended up in the hospital, she told me that if something got her first, I was… There’s a storage unit on an industrial estate up near Hainault. She said she rented it under the name Jan Kelly, and hid a key for it somewhere in the Archives.

ARCHIVIST

[TO HERSELF] Storage unit near Hainault. Rented to Jan Kelly. Key hidden in Archives.

And she didn't tell you what it was?

GERARD

No. When I asked her, she said she’d show me when we got back to London. Mind you, she had this weird look in her eyes, like it was some kind of a joke.

ARCHIVIST

Oh. That's, hm. Not very funny?

GERARD

Eh, she didn't really tell jokes, so I'm not surprised it fell flat.

ARCHIVIST

Heh. Is there anything else you can tell me about the Unknowing?

GERARD

Don't think so. I can't even guess where or when it'll be. Gertrude only told me about the things I could help her with.

ARCHIVIST

That's alright. You've done more than enough, Gerry.

Wish we'd had a chance to just, hang out at some point.

GERARD

You said it yourself, it's just how our lives are.

ARCHIVIST

Yeah...

Do you think, before I burn you, I could summon you one last time and we can do a proper catch-up? It'd be nice to talk to you without any of the usual stakes.

GERARD

That sounds nice. And you promise it'll just be a chat between friends? No apocalypse talk?

ARCHIVIST

Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.

GERARD

Can't believe you still say that, Evelyn.

Alright, talk to you later.

ARCHIVIST.

Later, Gerry.

I dismiss you.

[STATIC]

[BOOK CLOSES]

[A RUSTLING SOUND, LIKE A SHEET OF PAPER BEING TUCKED INTO A BAG]

[THE ARCHIVIST KNOCKS ON THE DOOR]

I'm done.

[FOOTSTEPS AND DOOR OPENS]

TREVOR

How'd it go?

ARCHIVIST

[NOT FINE] Fine.

TREVOR

I'll get the book back in its box, then?

ARCHIVIST

Yeah.

[FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING WITH BOOK]

JULIA

So. Did he tell you what you needed to know?

ARCHIVIST

As much as they could.

JULIA

They?

Ohhh.

So, you knew them before, huh? How tear-filled was the reunion?

ARCHIVIST

Don't be a dick. We were colleagues who got along.

JULIA

[TEASING] 'Got along'?

ARCHIVIST

[UNAMUSED] I'm aroace.

JULIA

Oh. Uh, sorry.

Want a drink to make up for it?

ARCHIVIST

Please.

[FOOTSTEPS]

JULIA

How'd an American get to be the Archivist of an Institute in London, anyway?

ARCHIVIST

Moved from DC to London in my twenties.

[LIQUID SLOSHING]

JULIA

Which one's better in your opinion, the US or Britain?

ARCHIVIST

The flight in between.

JULIA

[LAUGHS]

Well, if you're heading back up there, Trevor and I won't be able to join you to help with the Unknowing.

ARCHIVIST

I figured as much. You've already done plenty to help, though.

JULIA

And you brought us Max Mustermann's head. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun with that. Plus, if you do save the world…

ARCHIVIST

No 'if'.

[JULIA LAUGHS]

ARCHIVIST

Really though, thank you, Julia. I've actually made some progress thanks to you and Trevor.

JULIA

Well, it’s just killing monsters really, isn’t it?

[THE ARCHIVIST IS SILENT]

[LIQUID SLOSHES]

JULIA

You wanna find an actual pub, instead of mooching off my flask?

ARCHIVIST

Definitely.

Click.

Click.

ARCHIVIST

I don't remember having a tape recorder with me when I talked to Gerry. Are those things just following me around now?

At least they're not trying to kill me.

Yet.

Recording ends.

Click.🕸

[hiitsm]

A Family's Vacation

Your four year old daughter has vacation plans in mind.

Pure Fluff.

-

"Mamá, come sit!" Aubrey squealed as soon as you and your six-month-old daughter Evelyn stepped inside the house. Her tiny hand reached eagerly for yours, her excitement palpable.

Evelyn noticed the cheerful expression on her older sister's face and responded with her own gummy smiles, which made you chuckle softly. "Your big sister seems excited to show us something. Let's go see," you whispered, kissing Evelyn's head tenderly as Aubrey eagerly pulled you along, leading the way.

As the three of you made your way to the living room, you were struck by the cozy setup. The mattress from your bedroom had been brought downstairs, adorned with flickering cozy lights and a spread of snacks, mostly chosen by Aubrey.

It was clear that Alexia had orchestrated everything with Aubrey's eager assistance, directing where each item should go. The scene painted a vivid picture in your mind and brought a soft chuckle to your lips. You noticed your wife still adjusting one of the lights, her attention focused on getting it just right.

"No mami, it's good," Aubrey quickly assured your wife, gently nudging her away from the lights.

"So, what have the two of you been up to?" you asked teasingly, narrowing your eyes playfully. Before anyone could respond, your baby in your arms let out a giggle, clearly amused by the scene unfolding before her, her mami and sister caught in the act.

"¡Hola, mi pequeña hermosa!" Alexia walked up to the two of you and showered little Evelyn with kisses all over her face.

Alexia's tenderness always shone through when she was with you and her daughters, but it was especially evident whenever one of her babies laughed. She would melt into a puddle of affection.

"What about me?" you pouted slightly, earning a chuckle from your wife. "Hola, mi bella esposa," she grinned, giving you a soft kiss.

"And what about me?" Aubrey chimed in mischievously, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"No, you let me carry the mattress all alone!" Alexia playfully scolded Aubrey, swiftly lifting her into her arms and over her shoulder before darting away. "You'll sleep in the doghouse tonight," she teased lightly.

"No, mami, no mami! I'll help make up Mama's mind, remember?" Aubrey's giggles made it hard to understand her words, but you managed to catch a hint.

"What's she changing her mind about?" you asked innocently.

"We've prepared a presentation! Go sit!" Aubrey exclaimed, pushing you towards the mattress. You settled down comfortably and placed little Evelyn in front of you so she could see too.

"Mami, you go sit too, I can do this myself," Aubrey insisted, gently shuffling Alexia towards the mattress. Alexia pretended to be hurt. "But I carried it all downstairs," she protested, though you couldn't help but giggle at their playful interaction.

Alexia always found ways to light up your daughters' lives in every possible way.

"Sí, you are the strength, I am the talking," Aubrey grinned mischievously, giving Alexia another push towards the mattress.

"So, mamá, we have prepared this for you because of the vacation," Aubrey announced confidently. Despite being small for her age, her eloquence always filled you with pride.

"The vacation, mi vida," Alexia whispered in your ear, raising her eyebrows playfully.

You already knew where this was going. It was one of those playful discussions that neither your wife nor your daughter could quite let go of. They were so alike in that way. You found it incredibly cute.

Aubrey hesitated for a moment to figure out how to advance to the next slide of the PowerPoint, but she soon managed it confidently, showing her independent streak, a trait she undoubtedly inherited from your wife too. The PowerPoint was beautifully done, and you knew Alexia had put in the effort.

"Nice PowerPoint, amor," you chuckled softly, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"You know how hard that was? Took me more than an hour," Alexia huffed in mock annoyance, which only made you laugh.

"So, mamá, you want to go to Ibiza for our summer vacation," Aubrey concluded confidently, echoing a sentiment you've expressed countless times before. It wasn't a long flight, which was perfect with a 6-month-old in tow. You knew the language, you knew the place, a perfect destination for a relaxing family vacation.

But deep down, you knew both your wife and daughter had other plans in mind.

Aubrey clicked to the next slide, revealing the word "Boring!" in large letters, which made her exclamation of "Boring!" even funnier. "It's boring because we've been there so many times before," your daughter declared with determination.

"It's boring, amor," Alexia chimed in with a grin, glancing at you. You playfully rolled your eyes at her.

Little Evelyn squealed with her hands up, a huge grin on her face. "See, even our amorcita pequeña finds it boring," Alexia explained in the softest voice as she picked up your baby daughter and cuddled her close.

"Sí, mamá, Evelyn finds it boring already and she hasn't even been there before," your daughter chimed in mischievously, that familiar naughty glint sparkling in her eyes. It was so adorable that you couldn't help but smile.

Aubrey clicked to the next slide, revealing a huge image of Colombia.

Your wife had fallen in love with the country during your vacation and her foundation work there a few years ago. Since then, she couldn't stop talking about it. Alexia always shared stories with your daughters about your trip to Colombia, which had sparked Aubrey's desire to visit the country too.

You couldn't help but smile as you thought about how much Alexia's passion had influenced Aubrey's curiosity and enthusiasm. Yet, at the same time, you knew the challenges of such a long flight, dealing with jet lag, and managing a baby and a spirited but determined daughter.

It was a dilemma you'd have to navigate carefully.

It was the reason you had been hesitant and kept saying no.

"We should go to Colombia!" Aubrey exclaimed with a big, enthusiastic squeal. "It's beautiful! You both have been there before so you know the way," she added, determined, her thinking face on as she pondered her next words.

"It's true, mi esposa, we do know the way," your wife replied cheekily, facing you again.

"Karol G is from Colombia!" Aubrey's voice was filled with excitement as she started humming one of her favorite Karol G songs.

"Karol G is amazing, you know that, mi vida," your wife chimed in, waving her hands in the air with a dreamy expression.

You knew how much your wife adored Karol G, and while you found the singer pretty amazing yourself, your wife's enthusiasm was just a bit over the top. It made you chuckle to think she had told your daughter that this would be one of the arguments that could win the "case." This earned her one of your famous playful eyerolls, once again.

"The flight is long, but I'll be sleeping and you can give Evelyn her milkies," Aubrey confidently continued her argument. "Just give your milkies to Evelyn, mi amorcita," Alexia added with a grin, looking up at you.

"And mami will take care of everything," Aubrey said cheekily, struggling to hold back her laughter. "And mami will take care of—" your wife began to respond playfully to you, but then she suddenly realized what Aubrey had implied.

"What?!" Alexia exclaimed in such a funny way that set both you and your daughter laughing uncontrollably on the ground.

"No, you will help me pack and carry the suitcases," Alexia declared, gently placing Evelyn back in your arms and tickling Aubrey as if her life depended on it.

"Mami, stop! We have to ask if mamá is okay with this now," Aubrey managed to say in between giggles.

"Okay, fine," your wife huffed playfully.

"So, mamá, what do you think?" Aubrey crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow, just like Alexia did when trying to persuade you about something.

"Okay, fine, but—" you began, but before you could finish, both your daughter and Alexia erupted in screams of happiness, so dramatic that Alexia spun Aubrey around in exhilaration. It felt like they had just won the Women's Champions League Title.

You looked down at your 6-month-old daughter with a soft smile. "What have we gotten ourselves into?" you asked her with a gentle sigh. Evelyn grinned up at you, her eyes sparkling.

"Oh no, you were in on the plot too!" you exclaimed, laughing softly.

"She was!" your wife chimed in enthusiastically before scooping Evelyn up and tossing her gently in the air, catching her to celebrate.

Chuckles and giggles filled the room as your wife and daughter continued their lively celebration.

You watched the scene unfold before you with a heart full of love. Gosh, you loved your family so much.

-

Note: this was just fun to write. Soft Alexia is my fave.

[luvzpagie]

DEAD TO ME!

series masterlist

may 15, 2019

“are you serious paige, you want to reschedule again?” your face was contoured with confusion and irritation, your girlfriend had been putting you off for a couple weeks now.

“i’m sorry baby, i just been busy with basketball and shit” paige sighs, leaning back into the gym wall behind her.

“but i’ve been planning this for so long” you cross your arms, you were beyond fed up with the excuses paige gave you.

“and plus you know i move in a week, i wanna spend as much time as you.” you whined.

paige looks down at her phone, smiling at whatever was the screen.

everyone had her attention but you, and it hurt. you were obviously the last thing on her mind, you just didn’t understand it.

“i’m so sick of being your last priority!” your voice slightly raised, catching the few people around you attention.

paige scratches at the her neck awkwardly, looking up from her phone. “can you not yell? people are staring” she talks in a low tone.

“the fuck? so me yelling is what you care about right now?” your voice cracking, as tears begin to well up in your eyes. you quickly pack up your things.

“y/n- baby please” paige grabs at ur hand trying to stop you.

“no i’m done with you, fuck you paige.” you spat at her, your voice filled with anger and hurt. you snatch you hand away from her storming out of the gymnasium.

leaving her there to soak in what just happened.

august 6 2020

it’s been a year since you broken up with paige. you almost forget her, enjoying your “new” life in cali. but the way things ended wonders in your head, you cringe at it.

“hellooo, earth to y/n”

you were quickly snapped out of your thoughts as your best friend evelyn called out for you, swatting her hand in your face.

“did you even hear what i said” she sassed while passing you a box of your belongings.

“yes ev.” you sigh.

“jeez, no need for the sass” you roll your eyes as you walk her past her to the elevator.

it dings as the doors, a few seconds past waiting for it to get you the level your dorm was on.

as you leave the elevator, you walk to your room.

“ev where’s the room keys?” you watch the girl pat herself down, searching for them.

“shit! i left downstairs!” she yelp, she quickly rushed down to get them.

you put the last bit of clothes away in the mini dresser, you fall back onto your bed sighing from exhaustion.

“finally”

“i’m so glad we getting to share a dorm!” ev clapped, you smiled, it was so long since you had seen her. you felt a sense of peace knowing you guys were together again.

the dorm goes quiet for a while, leaving you in your thoughts again.

“you hungry?” you squint your eyes at ev.

“how’d you know?” the curly head girl looks almost as if your dumb. “im your best friend duhh! i know everything”

“okay weirdo”

“cmon!” she said grabbing her keys off the desk.

august 8 2020

it’s been two days since you’ve moved in, it was the first meeting of your cheer team. you nervous yet excited, hoping to make good friends.

one problem— you were lost, completely unaware of this new place. you try to look around searching for where dance room was.

“where the hell is it” you mumble to yourself. you flatten out the clothes you were wearing, trying to make you look less pathetic.

“yo, are you supposed to over here?” a kinda raspy voice spoke, it sounded familiar yet you couldn’t make out who.

“i’m not even sure, i’m looking for the dance room” you chuckled. “you apart of the cheer team or somethin?” the unknown person said.

“yeah, do you know where that is-” your eyes widened as you turn around, heart dropping at the tall figure in front of you. you were stunned, no words could come out of your mouth.

you were not prepared to see her.

“y/n?”

[bellaxgiornata]

A Favor from the Devil |Chapter Two|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 3.4k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)

a/n: Throwing the second chapter at y'all because I can and I feel like y'all needed some Matt. You get his POV in this chapter, too! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @danzer8705 @scriptedmoon @flowher @wanda-maxamommy @guccicloudz

Making your way through the crowded streets of Hell’s Kitchen, you guided Evelyn back towards your apartment. Both of her small hands clung tight to yours as she walked in silence beside you. Every time someone stepped a little too near to the pair of you, you felt her draw herself in closer to your legs, her fingers squeezing tighter around yours. In your opposite hand you carried a grocery bag that held a single container of vanilla moose track ice cream for tonight–Evie’s favorite flavor. Unfortunately purchasing the ice cream meant you’d had less money to spend on groceries for next week, but you’d happily eat another cheap packet of ramen for dinner and skip lunches at work if the frozen treat could manage to put a smile on her face this evening.

Evie had been silent ever since you’d picked her up after work from her first day of preschool. She hadn’t said a single word, not even when you’d taken her to pick out the ice cream. All she’d done was stand in front of the row of freezers at the store and quietly point to the flavor she’d wanted. You’d tried asking her how her day had gone, what she’d done in class, or if she’d made any friends, but instead of a response you’d only seen her lips draw into a thin line.    

So you’d done what you usually did when Evelyn drew into herself and stopped talking–you talked about your day. Which in all honesty had been horrible because the job you’d managed to acquire was a tedious desk job in which you sat in the tiny confines of a cubicle staring at a computer screen for hours on end. Your boss wasn't great, either. He was always in a bad mood, often making rude comments to you if he wasn't finding a reason to criticize your work. Dealing with his attitude daily for a salary that you could barely survive on usually soured your mood the moment you stepped into the building, but at least your coworker, Amira, made the days bearable. You’d been there for barely two months, but she’d taken one look at you and seen your past written on your face. After that, you’d grown comfortable around her, slowly opening up about your personal life–but not quite all of it.

But of course, you didn’t tell Evie about the bleak and depressing parts of your days at work. You’d always done your best to make it sound like you enjoyed your time there. And even though you didn’t, you were still grateful that you'd found a way to somewhat financially support the two of you.

“Look at that!” you said, gesturing a hand towards your apartment building with the one not currently being crushed in both of Evie’s. “We’re home already!”

Evie remained silent, not expressing a single emotion as to whether she was excited to be back or not. Wordlessly she followed you through the building’s main doors and into the lobby. Once the doors had shut behind you, the sound of the city just a little quieter now that you were off the streets, she seemed to relax. No longer on the crowded sidewalk, Evie’s hands somewhat loosened their grip on yours as you led her over towards the elevators. 

You tried to think of a way that you could cheer her up tonight, hoping to pull her out of her nonverbal phase before it really took hold, but considering your limited funds, you didn’t have many options. The best you could think of was a movie night, though all you had to watch movies on was the cheap cell phone you'd purchased once you'd gotten Evie and yourself out of your previous situation. 

As you pushed the call button for the elevator and waited for it to appear, you did your best to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. If only you could afford to purchase more toys for her to play with. A television and a couch for the pair of you to cozy up on at night. Anything . But all you had was each other. 

The familiar weight of your guilt that permanently sat heavy like a stone in your stomach reared its head. Once more you felt like a shitty mother, failing to provide all the things you wished you could for your child. But yet you refused to break down–at least, not here in front of Evie. You'd wait for the opportunity later tonight when you were certain she was asleep. Right now your priority was cheering her up and turning her day around, not wallowing in your own feelings.

She was the priority, not you.

The elevator doors opened and you forced a smile onto your face, blinking hard a couple of times. You gently pulled Evie along with you, stepping onto the elevator before pushing the button for the sixth floor.

“How about we reheat last night’s pizza and watch a movie on my phone tonight, cricket?” you asked, glancing down at your daughter as the elevator doors closed. “We can cuddle in your sleeping bag and pretend we’re camping. And then we can eat ice cream out of the container for dessert,” you suggested, knowing full well that you didn’t have any bowls in the kitchen yet. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Evie’s attention shifted towards you, her expression remaining neutral and impossible to read. She didn’t respond and her continued silence caused the smile on your face to become strained as you fought to keep it there. Your eyes traveled to the numbers above the elevator doors, watching as they changed from a five to a six. At least you’d be back in your apartment soon.

“What’s mute?”

The sound of Evie’s quiet, small voice startled you. As the doors of the elevator slowly rolled open with a ding , you glanced down at your daughter beside you. She was staring up at you with that still hard to read expression on her face. 

“Mute?” you asked, stepping out of the elevator with her. “What do you mean, cricket? Where’d you hear that?”

“School,” she answered. 

A frown settled onto your lips. Had the children there been teasing her? Or worse–the teachers?

“It just means that you–” 

You’d been about to explain the meaning of the word until you’d noticed a man at the far end of the hallway. The unexpected sight of him caused you to instantly grow quiet even though he was just standing outside of the apartment directly across the hall from yours seemingly attempting to unlock his front door. 

Your pace slowed as you observed him, your brain immediately screaming threat at the sight of him. Beneath that tight blue dress shirt he wore you could see that he was broad and muscular, the material pulled taut in various places along his torso. With the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, they revealed his thick forearms which hinted at even thicker biceps. Even his thighs filled out the dark slacks he wore, suggesting a strength about him that you couldn’t deny.

He looked intimidating and dangerous. 

You then noticed the cane in his left hand and the dark glasses currently sitting on his nose despite the fact that he wasn’t outside. Watching how he used his hands as he attempted to guide his key into the lock, you quickly pieced things together. Blind, you assumed. He was blind. But his disability didn't matter; he still looked like he could throw a solid punch and that alone had you on edge in his presence. 

Your mouth went dry as you stepped ahead of Evie, somewhat placing your body in front of hers as you both continued down the hallway. Of course you knew this man was most likely going to ignore you both even if he somehow noticed you. He was probably just getting home from work, too. More than likely he just wanted to eat dinner and relax like everyone else in the city. And the likelihood of him being a violent individual seemed slim–because logically you knew that not every man was–but for some reason something about him had put you on alert.

As you neared closer, your heart pounding heavily as the hair prickled along the back of your neck, you caught the way his hands stopped what they were doing. Briefly your feet faltered when you saw his head turn just a fraction over his shoulder in your direction as if he'd somehow picked up on the fact that he wasn't alone in the hallway. 

In that moment, you didn't remotely care if you were being rude or not, you practically dragged Evie the rest of the way towards your door in silence. Already having pulled your apartment key out of your pocket before you'd reached it, you unlocked the door swiftly before ushering your daughter inside. In a panicked rush, you darted after her before shutting and locking the door behind you without a backwards glance at the man.

Standing in front of the door for a moment, you paused to release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. Rude or not, you weren't going to offer him help or introduce yourself. Something about him had triggered your instincts to run and that had been reason enough to avoid him.

You felt a tug at your hand and you snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes dropping down towards your daughter. Evie was staring up at you with wide, worried eyes.

“You okay, mama?” she asked.

Nodding in response, you blew out a rough breath and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze in return. “Yeah, cricket,” you answered, still feeling a little on edge. “Yeah, I'm good.” Clearing your throat, you held up the bag with the ice cream in it and tried to smile back at her. “Maybe I should put this in the freezer before it melts on us after that long walk in the heat, huh?”

Evie gave you a single nod in response before she released your hand. 

Turning towards the kitchen, you made your way over to the fridge and opened the freezer. You frowned at the sole bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets sitting on a shelf by itself. They'd thankfully been on sale the other day–another of Evie’s favorites–but that was all you currently had in the freezer at the moment. 

“What movie do you want to watch tonight?” you asked Evie, placing the ice cream on a shelf.

“Little Mermaid,” she answered softly. 

It wasn't a stretch for you to understand why that movie was often her favorite choice lately. 

“Alright, cricket,” you said, closing the freezer door to open the door to the fridge next. “Why don't you get cozy in some pajamas and I'll start reheating the pizza in the oven? You and Barnabas can get settled in the sleeping bag and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

You weren’t surprised when Evie didn't respond, but the soft padding of her feet through the apartment and to her bedroom behind you was answer enough. 

Launching himself up onto the platform of the fire escape, Matt began his usual ascent up the neighboring building beside his own apartment building. As he scaled his way upwards, heading towards the roof now that his night was over, Matt's mind was busy working over the information that he'd uncovered as Daredevil tonight. Information he hoped to find ways to use as Matt Murdock this week with Foggy and Karen.

But as he climbed his way up fire escape after fire escape, he couldn't help but feel the exhaustion from the night settling into his body. He'd been running himself ragged all week trying to juggle both halves of his life and tonight he was admittedly feeling the repercussions of it. He needed a good night's sleep, but judging by the sounds of the city, it was probably somewhere around two or three in the morning. If he was lucky, he'd manage to get three or four hours before dragging his tired and battered body back out of bed to get to work.

Finally reaching the topmost fire escape, Matt grabbed ahold of his usual footholds on the side of the building and began pulling himself the rest of the way onto the roof. He let out a soft groan when he lifted himself up and over the railing and onto the rooftop. Briefly collapsing onto his knees, he took a minute to catch his breath. It was hot out this evening and his suit wasn't making him any less warm.

After his short break, Matt forced himself back up and onto his feet before jogging across the top of the building towards his own. He was ready to peel off his sweaty suit and be home for the evening, already looking forward to stepping into his shower and washing off his long day. 

With practiced ease he flung himself between the gaps of both buildings and landed with a sharp jolt. He grit his teeth at the impact, taking a moment to recover before rising to his feet and striding over to the roof access door which led back to his place. But he managed to take all of two steps before his tired ears caught something he hadn't expected.

Crying. Soft, muffled sobs coming from just below where he stood.

Matt hesitated, his eyes narrowing behind his mask as he tried to figure out who would’ve been awake and crying at this hour. The only other people who lived on the sixth floor with him were the long since widowed Mrs. Henderson–who definitely didn't spend her evenings crying–and his new neighbors that had moved in just last night.

The strange and short encounter he'd had with you earlier this evening resurfaced in Matt's mind. He'd been coming home from the office and was busy thinking about what he was hoping to accomplish in the city this evening as Daredevil, barely paying attention to much else. But somehow the immediate and overpowering scent of absolute fear he'd been slammed with had managed to break through his distracted thoughts. He'd felt that overwhelming fear from both you and the young girl which he'd assumed was your daughter from the moment you'd left the elevator and noticed him.

The acrid scent of it had instantly given Matt pause. At first he'd wondered if you both had somehow recognized him as Daredevil. But he'd quickly realized that seemed a stupid and impossible thought the moment he'd had it. But why else would you both become so quiet and fearful of him when he was just unlocking his apartment door? The feeling of your combined emotions had deeply unsettled him. No one had ever reacted to him like that before, certainly not as Matthew Murdock, the friendly, blind lawyer.

Matt had considered trying to turn around and introduce himself to you both, hoping that maybe he would appear far less terrifying to you if he’d flashed a charming smile and given you his name, but you'd grabbed your daughter and darted inside your apartment so fast that Matt hadn't had the opportunity.

It had been…odd. You both had been odd. And admittedly your reaction to him had piqued his curiosity. 

Turning around on the rooftop, Matt casually strode away from the door that led to his apartment and over towards the side of the building near your fire escape instead. Curiosity had won out over a shower and sleep for now. He wanted to make sense of that unsettling experience he'd had with you in the hallway. He hadn't liked scaring you both, feeling like he was some sort of dangerous monster.

Tossing himself over the side of the building, he landed softly onto the fire escape below. He stayed low in a crouch, throwing his senses out into your apartment to make sure he hadn't been seen when he’d dropped down. If you'd reacted the way you had earlier to just Matt Murdock, he could only imagine the reaction Daredevil would receive standing on your fire escape in the middle of the night. 

A minute passed and when no one shrieked or otherwise alerted Matt to having been noticed, he slowly rose to his full height. As he stood there, he could still hear the quiet, muffled crying that he'd caught on the roof continuing from inside. Paying close attention to it, it sounded like the sound was coming from just outside of the door of the bedroom who’s window he was standing at. 

Head tilting curiously to the side, he began examining your apartment as best as he could from the outside. And what he found easily surprised him.

Nothing. There was hardly anything in your apartment at all. He didn’t hear the usual buzz of electronics that he often did–like televisions or computers or even toasters. Focusing even closer, it sounded like the air from the air conditioning unit blowing in your apartment was moving with hardly any interruptions. As if you didn’t even have furniture. And judging from the placement of the crying and the sound of what seemed like your daughter’s even breaths as she slept, both of you appeared to be quite low on the ground. Like you were both lying on the floor instead of on beds.

Matt’s head tilted further to the side, a frown pulling his lips downwards beneath his mask. How strange. Had the pair of you not finished fully moving in yet? Or…did you really not have any furniture? 

Something stirred in Matt’s chest as another one of your sobs hit his ears. There was something going on here, there had to be. People didn’t usually react that way to strangers without cause–he would know because he’d never experienced that level of fear from someone outside of his Daredevil suit before. And there was the fact that you were laying on the floor in front of your daughter’s bedroom instead of laying in the second bedroom that he knew was in the apartment. There was only one reason he could imagine a mother doing that–you were protecting your daughter.

But why? And from who?

Matt reached a gloved hand up and gently rested it onto the glass of the window carefully, trying to focus his senses even more closely inside. He found himself desperately wanting answers about his new neighbors, but just as he leaned forward and turned his head to listen better, he heard a rustling inside the room–distinctly that of a sleeping bag. Terrified of being caught, Matt pushed himself roughly away from the window before beginning to quickly pull himself back up onto the roof. 

“Mama?”

Your daughter had definitely woken, Matt realized. He could hear her pulse steadily increasing now that she was awake. There were only a few seconds that passed before he heard a frantic tossing of a blanket onto the floor before the bedroom door had flung open.

“What’s wrong, Evie? Are you okay? Did you have another bad dream?”

There was a faint shift of air that Matt caught–like your daughter shaking her head–before he heard the scared, small voice again.

“Someone’s here.”

Your body immediately went straight into fight or flight and Matt curiously noted the intensity of it.

“Where, cricket?”

“Outside.”

Matt winced, running a gloved hand over his mouth as he stood there on the roof. So your daughter had noticed something. He needed to be more careful. Hopefully she hadn't seen his very recognizable costume. 

“No one’s there, Evie,” came your reassuring voice, though Matt could hear that your body was still panicked. “You’re safe, I promise. Okay? We’re both safe here.”

Shaking his head, he pulled his senses away from your apartment. That was enough eavesdropping on your place for the night. He had a few ideas about what might’ve been going on with you both now, a sick feeling bubbling in his gut at all of the dark scenarios racing through his mind. He hoped he wasn’t right about any of them, but if he was, he’d now become personally determined to make sure you both remained safe here. Because even though he didn’t actually know either of you, you were a part of Hell's Kitchen–the city he loved deeply. His city. And that was more than enough reason for Matt to find himself suddenly caring about the both of you.

[emlovessid]

@jegulus-microfic december 25, ideology, 449 words

James is in the middle of writing times tables on the board when Evelyn says, “Mr Potter! You have a visitor.”

He glances to the door of his classroom, trying to hide his smile when he finds Regulus leaning in the doorway watching him. “Oh, good afternoon, Mr Black. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I was just wondering if you had any laminating sheets I could borrow? I’m out,” Regulus says.

James doesn’t point out that there was no need for Regulus to cross campus to his second grade classroom just for laminating sheets; he’s pretty certain the senior school has laminators. But he’s not mad about the interruption.

“Yeah of course, they’re in my office,” he says, gesturing to the door at the back of the room. A little pointless; Regulus is not a stranger in James’ classroom and knows exactly where his office is. “Help yourself.”

The entire class, James included, watches Regulus as he crosses the room, only returning to their lesson once Regulus has left the classroom with a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Mr Potter,” Bernie calls out. “Do you have a crush on Mr Black?”

James deliberates for a moment, before sitting on the edge of his desk and whispering, “I do. But it’s a secret, so you can’t tell anyone.”

The class breaks out in a chorus of giggling ooh’s and teasing aah’s.

“But Mr Potter, he always looks so serious!”

“Well, Roland. That’s because Mr Black teaches boring things like civics and political ideology.”

“You mean he doesn’t get to do any arts and crafts?” Lizzie asks, a horrified look on her face.

James shakes his head, putting on his saddest expression as he says, “Never.”

The kids become a bit obsessed with Regulus after that, asking about him almost daily, breaking into a chorus of giggles any time Regulus comes by the classroom. Regulus has clearly caught on, dropping by more and more frequently, asking to borrow anything from a stapler to sometimes something as ridiculous as a piece of paper.

One day, just as Regulus is about to walk out of the classroom with a wave, Lacey calls out, “Mr Black! Do you have a crush on Mr Potter?”

He stops in the doorway, corner of his lips lifted in a smirk as he replies, “Why do you ask that?”

“Because he has a crush on you, obviously.”

James buries his face in his hands for a moment, shoulders shaking with laughter, looking up as Regulus says, “Oh, I definitely have a crush on him, that’s why I married him.”

He’s pretty sure the entire school would be able to hear the way his classroom screams and cheers in celebration.

[smolvenger]

It's Christmas, After All (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: It seems you are spending Christmas alone...until Loki joins you.

Word Count: 4987

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ (Thigh riding, blowjobs, sex on a chair and table, doggy style, p in v sex, orgasm denial), Spoilers for Loki season 2, lots of angst in the beginning with loneliness until it becomes tooth rotting mega indulgent fluff. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, y'all!

DICK-Tionary: Smut starts at "Gladly" and ends at "Panting, you held onto each other as he helped you down."

A/N: Hi there @loz-3!! I am your Secret Santa for @fictive-sl0th's event! Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy it and don't mind how super indulgent and wild it gets! Happiest of holidays to you!!! :) I hope it makes you happy this season and all year around!!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @loz-3

It should be a special day. 

But here you were. Doing the same things as normal. Your same coffee. Your same breakfast. Your same place. Scrolling the same apps on the same phone. The same sky. The same weather. Only with some festive decorations around the place. Once it had cheered you up to see lights amid the gloomy weather. Now it made the place seem gaudy.

Social media was all the same. Smiling, happy people with their families and significant others and friends. How was it that people had big friend groups in real life as adults and did things together constantly? It felt like no matter how hard you reached out at work….they weren’t interested. You saw one girl from college with her husband and two little kids all in matching pajamas. You wished partly to get one of those pajamas. Because no matter what tacky red plaid set you got, you at least belonged to a group that all wore the same set. That you were included. One of something.

It didn’t feel like a holiday or a special day. Especially not Christmas- the day that was supposed to be the best of the year. To think you didn’t have work. Then at least you would have something to do, to get your mind off everything. 

But no. Only quiet, lonely, long hours on a day of gathering and joy. Only there was no one to gather with. And the joy you were trying to make yourself feel…was nothing.

You were living on your own with a roommate. And she was off with her boyfriend to be all heart eyes and then eat casseroles with his family.

Your parents had booked a trip. They said they were sorry but next time they would bring you. And off they were at some tourist spot. You wished you could go- as tacky as the place was, as much as you had seen it top to bottom… it meant you could at least play cards and drink wine and cook meals with them on this holiday.

All of your friends lived far away in other places. Some were doing amazing things. Incredible jobs and opportunities. Greatness was reached for them…..but not for you. Some lived in town but grew apart- getting married. Or onto their own lives. Regularly posting pictures about their own “best friends.” Best friends who weren’t you.

You had befriended the Avengers, but off they went to either save the world or to their own families to celebrate. You knew Thor and Loki would go to Asgard for a feast with their family to commemorate Yule. Much less Loki- the handsome, charming trickster god probably had better things to you than deal with you...at least any more than friendship. A tiny one began between you two as you talked. But no…you were overthinking. What would he even see in you? You likely weren’t even his type! At least he didn’t notice your ogling when he was in the room. But…he was a god. He could have whoever he wanted….and not likely you. 

You looked down at the texts you sent over to your sister and her husband. They were the only true, close friends in town you had. 

“Hi there Sydney! I'm just asking- could I come over for Christmas? I want to just hang out!”

It was sent and Read on December 20th. No reply.

Then at the text over with your brother-in-law.

“Hey, there Sam! Can I come over and celebrate with you guys? I can bake something and bring it over! Plus I can’t wait to see your faces when you open my gifts!”

Sent December 22nd. No reply.

Once you have done everything together with your sister. Then she got married and suddenly…she had someone else. And you had no one. You then still tried to reach out to them. Going to movies, enjoying little family dinners, hanging out, and even sleeping over at each others’ houses. 

Now…nothing. You looked at another text you sent them.

“Hey, Sydney! I’m free tomorrow- want to watch that movie we both discussed for the longest time seeing?”

Sent on December 18th. Read. No response. 

It was like you no longer mattered to them anymore.

You wanted to yell at them. You wanted to march over to their place, open the door, and scream at both of them. Throw an angry tantrum like a child. How dare they ignore you. Leave you alone- they were all you had. The only live friends they had outside of a bunch of superheroes and gods who were always busy. You wanted to throw something at them. Yell that they never replied to your messages. That suddenly you were ignored and unimportant. That they were all you had and accusing them of treating you like dirt. Call them out for their shortcomings as you cursed and called them harsh words. You wanted to tear them both apart. 

But…that was Destroying what good relationships you had with your sister and your brother-in-law. At least that’s what your mother would say. 

But…you knew there was a chance they were both working on Christmas with their jobs. They worked night jobs and slept all day. They refused to go to things you planned to do with them due to “needing to sleep.” They had to make ends meet and It wasn’t fair on their end.

Yet on Christmas, it wasn’t fair on their end. 

You ruminated more on them. Sydney and Sam, spend their days sleepily cuddling, binging streaming shows, cooking, and working nights. Discussing baby names and having one when they clearly couldn’t afford the rent increase. Their impracticality and sometimes immaturity. yet you loved them. But it was like they were in a bubble. Wrapped up in their little world. At least, Happy and in love. You wanted to be in love, to be loved, wanted, included….and here you were…alone.

Unloved. Unwanted. Unincluded. 

You knew if you watched any Christmas movies, you would be surrounded by images of people smiling in groups. People were with their spouses, lovers, friends, and families all smiling and happy. Even if there was conflict like in any movie and someone was left in solitude…later they would all hurry in full of chatter and laughter and smiles.  Because belonging, being wanted, was now just a fantasy.

You sat down on the couch and cried. What was worst of all - It was your favorite holiday. The lights, decorations, hope, music, food, beauty, joy- yet you were spending it alone. 

Because you weren’t wanted anywhere by anyone. 

You were spending it and closing the year as a failure. A lonely, awful failure. 

The tears rolled down, making you gasp for breath and continue to sob. Curling up in the fetal position on the couch, crying, crying away until you were gasping for breath and snot running down your nose.

You heard some talking outside. It was colder- though a couple you knew, Mr. and Mrs. Malloy, was walking around. They lived in the big house across the road. They were dressed in their designer furs holding portable cups that you knew were homemade chocolate-peppermint espresso. Mr. Malloy with his brown hair, sharp green eyes, and a face that looked more like Handsome Squidward than an actual person. Mrs. Malloy with long, shiny red hair that was soft and full of products and curled to perfection, and her face was perfectly done with makeup products that were three times your car insurance. You could already smell the cologne and perfume from in your house. They smelled of money and loved to flaunt it to everyone. 

As they strutted, a stranger walked by. Hands in pockets. A tall man in a big red puffer winter jacket with a black beanie hat that hid the top of his head walked by. It was hard to make out his face. They accidentally bumped into him.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” barked Mrs. Malloy, gripping her cup with her designer gloves. “I almost got coffee on me!”

“I’m sorry,” voiced the stranger. He bowed his head down, genuinely ashamed.

A decent person in the Malloy’s position would have acknowledged and accepted the apology. Perhaps even laugh it off- the coffee was still untouched and their clothes intact. Assure the stranger it was alright.

The Malloy’s were not decent people. 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it! Just leave!” sneered Mr. Malloy.

The couple huffed and walked away past him. Taking sips from their drinks. Their noses up in the air. 

The stranger behind lifted an ungloved, white hand towards them. His fingers swirled in the air. Then he fled to the far corner to watch.

 Then as Mr. and Mrs. Malloy looked down their cups, sensing something was off. When they did, they let out a scream.

Out of the lid, instead of steaming espresso were a lot of tiny brown snakes that slithered out of the cup and down onto the ground. You let out a gasp where you stood watching. 

The couple tried to stomp at them, but in vain- the tiny snakes were as invincible as cockroaches. Mr. and Mrs. Malloy screamed and ran away to their three-story house in fear.

You burst into laughter so much your cheeks hurt and your face felt warm.

It then hit you- you knew only one person even capable of that.

The man returned from his corner, his face turning to see you. He gave you a wink. You gave him a smile and a wave. 

With a tilt of his head, the jacket turned to a dark brown peacoat and his hair was long, dark, and curly. An ivory face with cheekbones that could cut steel and sweet blue eyes. Hands casually in his pockets. The most beautiful man in all the realms you had ever seen.

At once, you threw on a jacket. You hurried to open the door. Loki walked to you with a smile.

“You’re here?!” you asked.

He gave a shrug

“If I have to tolerate my father’s Yule feast for one more minute, I was going to go mad,” Loki announced.

You took a step closer to him. The air was chilly, though not cold enough for snow.

“But why here? Why me? You could go anywhere….” you mused.

He let in a tight breath, raising a hand to brush through his curls.

“I may be a god of lies and deceit…but I…I didn’t want you to be alone today, my dear,” said. “And you, a great beauty of Midgard, alone on an auspicious day- it didn’t seem right.”

Chest fluttering from the complement. You…in just your sweater and jeans, a great beauty?! Yes, he could flirt and charm a statue to blush. That was his nature. Compliments rolled off him like his magic. You better not think any more of it.

Your whole self was bursting with gratitude and happiness. To have company, especially on Christmas of all days. To not be alone anymore.

Wiping off a few stray tears, you ran forth and tackled him in a hug, crying and laughing as he hugged you back. Accepting it. You were both lonely souls, not wanted, not chosen. So it was fate that a god should cross paths with a mortal with whom he shared so much of his pain. 

“Come inside and get warm,” you offered.

He smiled, looking at the grey sky. The ground was grey with gravel and green from the grass.

“Let’s make something to get warm from,” he suggested. 

With a flick of his hand, the temperature shot down. You shivered further into your coat. Then it began to snow down big, white puffs. You smiled, letting a hand out to feel them. How soft they were! Their tiny, intricate patterns where none were the same. A small laugh came out despite you. 

“It’s beautiful! Now it really feels like Christmas!” you praised. 

You didn’t realize the god of mischief looking at you, the white flakes falling on his dark hair and the rims of his long eyelashes. A softness on his features. His own heart picked up at the happy look on your face. His smile was soft.

“Alright- now let’s go inside,” you offered.

His hand reached up magic pouring through and around.

 His magic went around in little golden slivers that went around the place. You gasped as it transformed everything it touched. Your jaw dropped at the transformation.

 It was turned into a perfect Christmas home- a crackling fireplace grew from the wall with two green stockings. A turkey dinner complete with every side dish you could name was served on the table. Its delectable smell made your mouth water. A record player opened with the overture of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker ballet, the beautiful, playful, and mischievous music ringing through and sounding better than any ho-hum Christmas song the radio blasted ten billion times. Because it was from him. From Loki.  And as you looked at the tree, with even more glittering gold decorations around it, a few resembling the horns on his helmet, a beautiful star sparkled on top. You gasped when you saw the skirt- there were piles of presents in green wrapping paper with gold ribbons. They weren’t there before. 

You went to one like a little child full of both innocent greed and wide-eyed curiosity. You picked it up and shook it, feeling something in there. 

“Are the gifts…real?” you asked.

“Of course- and a good portion of them are for you!” he replied.

The music moved onto the second part of the ballet’s first act- “Un fete du noel.” Soft strings and flutes over repeating lower strings full of anticipation and joy. 

“Oh, but Loki…I..this is…so much, I-”

“If it weren’t for you, I’m sure I’d be either strangled to death or stuck in a tree of my creation! And I promise you they aren’t all pranks. Only one-quarter of them.”

“Thank you!” you gasped.

You went up and hugged him. So overjoyed, you pecked him on the cheek. He blinked in surprise. As you turned around, the god himself blushed pink. 

Giggling, you picked up a present. The pranks were ones that were empty until the ribbons became little sparkling fireworks that made you laugh. 

Then there was one that was empty when suddenly your clothes were transformed from your plain sweater and jeans to the fancy Christmas outfit of your dreams. It was a deep green dress made of velvet with a fitted waist and a long skirt, like something the ladies of White Christmas would wear. You felt….felt beautiful in it.  You smiled at him in thanks. 

They own were things you long craved for, and wanted. Beautiful things. And practical things. Things outside of your budget. Things that would help make life easier. Or a little beautiful. The very things you wanted. If you wanted it desperately there it would be laid. Lovely, lovely things. You were crying- but tears of happiness. 

Loki merely sat on the couch, smiling at you. Beneath his peacoat was his average Midgard wear. A shirt and brown khakis that were both deliciously tight. A tie that made him seem like a professional office worker. As he eventually took off the coat and rolled up his sleeves, you stifled the urge to gawk at him.

“Oh, and your presents!” you gasped to Loki.

“I’m out of my father’s palace, what more could I need?’ he asked smoothly.

You felt warm and tingly inside but ignored it.

“Oh no! You deserve something too! I…I got you two gifts! They were on sale and I couldn’t pick just one.  I hope it’s…it’s alright!” you offered. 

You ran into your room. The music still tinkling, moving onto the Dance of the Snowflakes. He used his magic to open the curtains to see the window. The beautiful snowy day. People ran out to play, children giggling. To think…though he was a Frost Giant and feared, his magic could do a little good.

 You emerged out with two boxes. One small and one big in red wrapping paper. He opened up the smaller box and found a set of fine brushes and combs. He grinned at them, testing the bristled with one of his beautiful, long fingers. 

“I didn’t know how you cared for your hair- I always thought it looked nice- I thought you could use some!” you suggested.

He gave a small laugh looking at them. 

“They’re perfect! I could always use them- Mother used to scold me for not tending to my hair! These I will treasure,” he assured you.

He then began to open the second bigger one. His eyebrows lifted as he got to the box and removed the lid. Inside was a thick, knitted black scarf. He smiled at it, testing it by wrapping it around him. It fit around him like it was made for him.

“You know me well, my dear. Thank you,” he replied. 

With grumbling stomachs, you went over to the table. He conjured black cloth napkins and had one placed delicately on your lap. It was like being at a much fancier restaurant than being at your apartment. 

You sat down and enjoyed the dinner- the meat was tender and full of flavor. The sides were all of your favorites, hot and freshly made. The desserts and sweets were full of powdered sugar that melts in your mouth. You had to suppress the sounds you made at tasting them. Loki had to remind you to slow down and taste it, enjoying it.

You showed one of your favorite Christmas movies. He asked questions and you laughed and explained everything. He looked at the commercials that played on the TV and then one featured Santa Claus. He tilted his head at it.

“Hmm, he looks like my father. Father was one of the inspirations for this Claus figure- did you know that?” he commented.

“Really! Though- Santa Claus is much nicer! I assure you!” you promised him.

The fire roared and it was quiet. He conjured two mugs of mulled wine. You sipped and smiled at the hot, spicy drink. The alcohol burning you a little, but relaxing you. You both let out a cheer for the holidays. The sun outside began to set early as it always does on a winter day. You both chatted- about Thor, your family and work, about the Avengers, the gifts, all sorts of things. He then looked around the place, finishing the wine with a last sip as he sat on the chair. 

“Loki…I cannot thank you enough. I know I said thank you a hundred times today- but…why did you do all of this….for me? Not just to get away from Odin, but…you didn’t have to give me all of these gifts and a nice meal and make my place pretty…”

He cupped his mulled wine mug with both hands.

“Because…because…my dear, because….” he began to stutter.

He paused. His blue eyes were big, but never left yours. A god full of magic…and he was nervous!

“I really don’t know how to say this,” he continued. 

Your throat went tight and your heart raced wildly. Wondering if this was a dream.

“But I feel sometimes…you and I…are tied together. No matter how hard I try to stop, you always appear there in my head. At every time of the day. You….you who have stayed by my side. Listened to me. Cared for me…And I find I want to return to you. Even if I had to crawl on my knees to get to you, I would. Because, my dear, I…I have…soft feelings for you, my dear…tender feelings…”

Unable to take it, you set down your mug and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. were on him like an animal. His hands reached over to your waist. You kissed him- tasting the hot spiced wine he had been drinking. His hand went to you.

It wasn’t long until he had backed up. He sat on a chair and at once you straddled him. 

His breath hitched- he was getting hard and you felt him right on your pants. You held his face and kissed him. He was groaning as you did. There were wet noises from the kissing.

“Dear girl, darling, sweet girl…I want to take you on each surface and ruin you in every way,” he said.

“Then start here- with this one,” you offered with the chair. “Ruin me then.”

With a flick of magic, your clothes changed. You were in deep green lingerie of a babydoll and high lace stockings and a lace thong you were certain was green too. He was only in black pants and a santa shirt that was wide open, showing his delicious wide chest with black chest hair and six-pack.

He smirked at you and said one word.

“Gladly.”

Holding onto him, you ground against him as you kept kissing his neck, his shoulders over his shirt. He moaned at the touch. You went to his neck-sucking on as you touched each bit of him. His large, delicious hands feel the lingerie on your mid body and your legs. You heard him chuckle. 

“I see my little pet is eager,” he began.

He set you on his thigh and you gasped.

“Here you go- ride this first. Get yourself ready- and I want those sounds of yours loud. So I know what pleasure I can give you.”

You began to roll your hips. He moved it up and down, eyes brimmed with lust as he watched you.

You let out one moan- his leg hitting your thin panties, already getting wet. Then as you grinded on his leg again, you let out another louder one like he commanded. You saw his erection even on the darkness of his pants as you did. His hands touched your body beneath the babydoll, squeezing your hips. Then going up, holding both of your breasts, squeezing and feeling them.

His chest was revealed- wide and strong pectorals, with a little hair. Abdominal muscles with a six-pack made of ivory. You rode his thigh for another minute, letting your thong get ruined with how soaked you became. Then you leaned forward, grinning. You began to kiss his chest. Then you used your tongue and licked it. The hot skin beneath you, a little salty from his sweat. He moaned in turn.

“Yes…I like that…that too, my dear- keep…keep going…”

You then stopped, smiling at him.

“I have to thank you first…for everything you did today,” you giggled.

At once you got on your knees, eagerly finding the zipper of his pants and undoing it. Out sprang his large cock, white pearls dripping off of the tip. So hard it was touching his stomach.

“See…see what effect you have on me, pet? What you do to me- even when you just smile at me…we need to take care of that…”

“Yes…let me….” you grinned.

You set your lips around his cock and began to suck at it. He let out a groan. His hands find the top of your head. You sucked at it like it was candy, as saltier than the rest of his skin. As you did, you swirled your tongue over the tip and he hissed out your name. He began to experimentally thrust a little inside you. Though your eyes burnt, you took as much of it as you could- for he was a god even with the size of his length. His shudders through him.

“Yes…good girl, my good, good little mortal- taking your god's cock in your pretty lips, on your knees- yes-good fucking girl,” he voiced out. 

You felt him tense up, a small release as he gasped. You then went up, wiping off his cum that dripped down from your mouth. At once you got up and had him watch as you swallowed. His own body stilled. His cock still raging hard. One of the benefits of being a god- he was always horny and ready and didn’t take long to want more after he came.

“Norns,” he voiced in awe.

Then you mounted him, still hard.

You kept at it, lapping up his skin- kissing him on that delicious chest and on his shoulders. You could feel yourself get even wetter as he did.

“My darling-I-I cannot take it-I- have to be inside of you…” he breathed out, his voice raspy. 

His hands gathered your skirt to your waist and he ripped apart the thong of your own creation. Your wetness cold from the sudden exposure. You wrapped your legs on the couch to mount him. At once you plunged inside. You let out a cry from the size as you adjusted. You began to ride him- your breasts bouncing. 

“Ah- ah!oh-oh-Loki- fuck, yes- there-yes, I love-I love you-fuck!” you were moaning’

“Yes-yes-take your god like a good girl- all of it-all of me-”

He groaned and made a small sound. As he pounded away. You felt yourself speeding up, the high, about to reach bliss when….when he stopped. His hands are on your waist.

“I want to take you like a whore now,” he said. “Would you like that?”

“Yes…yes please,” you said. 

He picked you up, legs around. He kissed you, still tasting himself on your lips and breath. Your hands still fisted around his curls. still around and brought you to the table. The plates and silverware made a sound like a crash as they fell to the floor as he shoved them aside. 

He had you bend down over it. He let out a guttural breath with a smile at the sight of your bare ass over it for him. He gave you a strong spank and you let out a small yelp. Gripping the table on the other end for what was about to happen. 

“Who is your god?” he asked.

“L-Loki is.”

He spanked you again. You let out a cry.

“Who gave you all of this-?”

“Loki did!”

“And you will pay back by being my obedient little girl, will you?” he asked.

“Yes, yes please-”

He thrust inside you from behind. You let out a cry. His breaths were low pants. He pounded in, the table shaking. What plates and silverware and food there was shaking with it. Your hand became a tight fist as he pounded on. It was so rough, hard, and filthy, you couldn’t help but love it. 

He pulled you roughly up, your own moans with each filthy thrust of his.

“Yes-even here- you will take…take your god's cock in every way. Yes- yes, there-fuck-norns-what you-you do to me-your god,” he hissed out, his breath right behind you.

You felt it bubble up again. You let out another moan as you tilted your neck behind him, feeling it.

“Yes-yes Loki- Loki-please…please- I’m about to-to cum, please, let me-let me cum-” you pleaded. Your own folds inside shaking from the power.

“No…wait…”

He pulled out of you. You let out a small sigh. Your body shaking. Taking so much. Desperate for release.

“When you cum, I want to see it,” he breathed out.

He flipped you around and positioned you to wrap your legs around him. You embraced him. At once he entered again. Then thrust into you, slow at first. 

“Eyes on me. No one else- watch me. I want you-want you to look me in the eye when you cum. So no man. No god- no one can give you this pleasure-”

He began to pound into you again on the table, you bounced Your breath was hitching in high gasps.

“Ah- oh- hmm-yes-yes there-oh gods-Loki-”

“Eyes on me, darling-look at me-”

His hands then wandered to your clit. So powerful and large, they began to strum it. You let out another moan.

“Look- at-me,” he commanded.

You were so hazed you forgot- his voice commanding-your had your eyes focused on him. His jaw tightened, fighting his own release too.

“Eyes. On. Me- who gives you pleasure?”

“You do!” you cried out.

“Say my name, darling-”

He fiddled with your clitoris faster, you fought it, it was finally going to break at this rate.

 You let out a shout. It was building up in you. He pounded you into a fury. So many quick deep thrusts, the table going wild.

“Yes- say it darling- say it, I’m cumming- yes- cum with me- look at me- look at me- yes, I feel it- I’m going to-going to cum- I command you- say it- say my-say my name!!”

You let out a breathy cry of “Loki!” as it broke on you and you climaxed so hard his face and the room spun.

Panting, you held onto each other as he helped you down. He conjured you a glass of water to sip on. 

“Are you ok?” he asked. “It was a lot.”

“It was perfect. Presents, a meal, and an orgasms- you’re spoiling me rotten already,” you teased.

He smiled and chuckled at the phrase. You both got in blankets snuggling before the fire.

So much time had passed it didn’t occur to you that your phone dinged with an alert. You picked it up. An hour ago, your sister and her husband sent a reply saying they were sorry since they fell asleep and now saw you and that you were welcome to see them. You let out a laugh.

“Would you like to, my dear?” he asked.

“Not in this…” you gestured to the babydoll. “But I do want to keep it…I have my favorite gift to enjoy tonight?”

“The ravishing little number you have on?” he asked.

“Oh no…it’s a handsome gift, tall, dark hair, blue eyes,” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Merry Christmas, pet,” he whispered.

It was indeed.

[msbigredmachine]

You Again - Flashback

A/N: A snippet of Evelyn and Joe in high school. I'm still completing Part 2 which hopefully should be up soon.

Warning: Themes of bullying

Word Count: 1.1k

READ PART 1 HERE

Escambia High School, October 2000

“Hey Evie!”

She is so startled she collides with her locker door, her books nearly flying out of her hands. It takes a couple of seconds to regain her bearings and realize who is standing in front of her, and it’s not anyone she’s expecting, certainly not the captain of the cheer team.

“Ayesha,” Evie straightens, awkwardly shoving her books back inside her locker and adjusting her skewed glasses. “Umm, did you…did you want something?” she asks, her arms crossed protectively over herself. They’re not friends - Ayesha has never hesitated to remind her of this - so she wonders why she is here, flashing a megawatt smile that one could mistake to be amiable. 

“So…don’t trip,” Ayesha begins, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “but I found your note in History class.”

For a second she’s confused, and then it hits her. Oh no. Oh god. She tries to play dumb, fighting the urge to look into her History textbook where she’d thought she’d tucked her little, ill-advised daydream away in one of its pages, safe from the prying eyes of the queen of the mean girls. “W-What? What note?” 

“The note you wrote, silly. I think you dropped it on the floor, you really need to be more careful, girl,” Ayesha giggles.

It’s a lie and they both know it. Evie wouldn’t be so stupid as to expose such damning evidence, let alone discard it haphazardly in class of all places. Her brain is working frantically, trying to figure out how on earth Ayesha got hold of it to begin with. Each student had to present their History paper in front of the entire class, and she suspects Ayesha swiped the note from her desk when it was her turn. It’s not hard to imagine the malicious glee in her eyes as she read the contents, not too different from the one she is trying and failing to hide right this moment:

Dear Joe, Would you like to go to the Fall Ball with me? YES   NO

“Okay,” Evie starts tentatively, treading lightly. “So can I have the note back? Please?”

Ayesha’s eyes widen dramatically. “Oh! I gave it to Joe. I saw his name on it. The note was for him, right?”

Evie feels her heart sink to Titanic depths, her insides heavy from the weight of this shattering news. The magnitude of the trouble she's put herself in brings tears to her eyes but she quickly blinks them away before Ayesha adds it to her ammunition. “Oh…I, uh…it wasn’t for…You’re mistaken, the note was for another Joe-” she starts to backtrack.

“Oh girl, there’s only one Joe in this school who matters and we all know who he is,” Ayesha dismisses flippantly. “Why you so worried anyway? I come bearing good news. He asked me to give you this.” She extends her hand, a piece of paper that looked torn out of a legal pad tucked between her fingers. Eyeing her skeptically, Evie takes it, her anxiety rising as she unfolds it and reads the familiar scribble:

Dear Evie,

Meet me under the bleachers at lunch.

Joe.

Against her better judgment, her heart flutters at his invitation, excitement bubbling inside her just knowing he responded to her. But common sense swoops in, and she stammers, shaking her head, “Look, I don’t…this isn’t necessary at all…Please, let’s just forget that any of this happened-”

“Girl, are you seriously chickening out on Joe Anoa’i?” Ayesha counters. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you and you’re turning it down?”

Evie makes one last throw of the dice, desperate to get out of this predicament. "But why are you doing this? Isn't he your boyfriend?"

"It's...complicated," Ayesha answers easily, placing a hand on Evie's shoulder. “Sweetie, any girl would kill to be in your shoes right now. Who knows, he might say yes. Are you really gonna throw that away because you’re scared?”

Terrified, actually. Not much good comes out of interacting with Joe Anoa’i when you’re not a member of his precious clique. But Ayesha is right. A private meeting with the most popular boy in school is too enticing to pass up, if only this once. So Evie forces herself to wait through the agonizing hour and a half before lunchtime, embroiled in thoughts of how their conversation will go. 

It turns out she should have trusted her gut, because the minute she steps onto the field, something feels off. 

Joe is not here. Outside is eerily quiet save for the muted bustling inside the cafeteria a few feet away. Chalking it up to him standing her up, Evie permits herself to exhale a huge sigh of relief and spins back towards the building, eager to forget all about the mess she almost made.

Then, it happens. Out of the shadows, they step out, seemingly from every corner of the stands. Jon. Josh. Ayesha and her lackeys, Kelli and Chichi. All of them emerging one by one until she is surrounded by his entire posse.

And last but not least, Joe appears like some kind of video game final boss. He steps between the twins, both of whom stare her down with the same demeanor as vultures circling over a carcass. He twirls her letter between his long fingers, his handsome face wearing a sugary sweet smile and a spiteful glint in his eye that strikes terror in Evie.

“So, Evie…I read your little message to me. It was…sweet. Real cute,” he says, coming closer to her, humored by the way she tenses as he towers over her. “I just have one question…” 

He gently trails the corner of the note along her cheek. The gesture would be considered as intimate if his eyes didn't harbor so much malevolence. “Did you really think my answer would be yes?”

The group bursts into laughter, the sounds cruel and taunting. Joe circles around her, regarding her with the same countenance as a piece of gum stuck underneath his Air Max sneakers. “What makes you think I’d ever wanna go to the dance with a nobody like you? Huh?” He throws an arm around Ayesha and kisses her cheek. "Babe, didn't you tell her you were going with me?"

Ayesha crosses her arms and shrugs with fake nonchalance, an even faker smile on her pretty face. "I wanted to...but it was much more fun fuckin' with her head."

She should have known better. Better than to write that shit in the first place. Known that Ayesha was setting her up from the start; known that standing her up or simply ignoring her was too merciful, too tame for Joe and his coven.

It’s beyond humiliating, and all Evie wants is for the ground to swallow her whole.

Ayesha steps up to her, angling her head low enough to catch Evie’s teary-eyed expression. “Awww, are you gonna cry? You gon’ cry bitch? You thirsty-ass pathetic loser?”

Ayesha's arms shoot out, shoving Evie so hard that she falls over, crying out as her knees collide painfully with the ground. Her glasses slip off her face and onto the cold dewy grass and dirt. Her tears splash onto the cracked lenses as they all step past her fallen frame, their cackles echoing in her ears long after they are gone.

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

Fun fact: A version of this incident happened to me in high school in real life. Only difference is I wasn't pushed. 😭😭😭

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[mariasont]

Our Minds Entwined------------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3

Aaron Hotchner x Original Character x Spencer Reid

in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest youngest member

Chapter Two:

Evelyn glided into the BAU office like the first breath of spring, her heels tapping a confident rhythm against the gleaming floor--a drummer setting the beat for a new day. The sun peaked shyly above the horizon, casting a soft glow that seemed to dance with the spark in her eyes. With a tray of meticulously chosen coffee cups cradled in her hands, she was the portrait of preparedness, memorizing everyone's order--or so she thought.

Her arrival was like a ripple in a still pond, drawing the gaze of every agent in the room. They couldn't help but be captivated by the way her hair cascaded in perfect waves, each strand catching the light as if spun from chestnut threads. Her nails, painted a shade of pink, spoke of a meticulous nature, each tip polished to a flawless finish. The air shifted around her, sweetened by the subtle hint of vanilla that trailed in her wake. She moved with a grace that belied the steel in her spine.

"Good morning, everyone!" Evelyn chirps, her voice a cheerful melody that fills the BAU conference room. She flutters to the table, her movements light. "Your caffeine fix, courtesy of the new girl," she announced with a wink, her words wrapped in warmth.

Each cup finds its way into the hands of colleagues, a personal touch from the newest member. Hotchner's eyebrow arches in silent question as he brings the cup to his lips, the familiar comfort of his morning ritual poised at the edge of disruption.

The first sip is a surprise, a cascade of caramel where stark bitterness usually resides. "This is... different," he remarks, the dryness of his tone belting out a hint of amusement that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Yet, in the curve of his mouth, there's a shadow of a smile, a rare crack in the facade of the ever-serious unit chief.

Reid's curiosity piqued as he approached his coffee with caution. The liquid was dark and unadulterated, a stark contrast to the usual sugary coffee. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, a silent nod to Evelyn's thoughtful gesture. "Actually, this is exactly how I like it," he said, the lie as transparent as glass, accompanied by an awkward sweep of his hand through his hair. "Thank you, Evelyn."

The room fills with soft laughter. It was a rare sound, one that seemed to wrap around the room like a comforting blanket. Rossi, who had just walked in, couldn't but chuckle as he reached for his expresso, served just the way he liked it.

"You'll fit right in, kid," Rossi said, his voice rich with approval as he gave Evelyn a gentle pat on the shoulder.

Evelyn's cheeks flushed with a cocktail of embarrassment and delight, a rosy hue that matched the sunrise peeking through the blinds. "I'll get it right next time, promise," she chirped, her voice a tender mix of hope and humility.

As the room settled into the rhythm of the morning briefing, Evelyn found herself perched next to Reid, her pulse dancing to a nervous beat. "So, I heard you're going to be my mentor," she blurted out, her words tumbling faster than her mind could keep up. "I'm really looking forward to learning from you, Dr. Reid. I mean, your analysis on the last case was just--wow!"

Reid's gaze lingered on her, a silent enigma before his lips curled into a smile that could put the stars to shame. "I'm looking forward to working with you too, Evelyn. And please, call me Spencer."

The name rolled off her tongue, a sweet note in her mouth. "Spencer," she echoed, savoring the familiarity it promised. A shadow of a memory flickered--the bar incident--and her smile wavered, a ripple of uncertainty. Had he heard what she said that night? She prayed not.

The conference room, usually a crucible of tension and intellect, shifted into a training exercise as Hotchner laid out the case before Evelyn. "Evelyn, we have a mock case for you," he declared, his voice a beacon of authority. "We need a profile for a suspect based on the evidence provided. Let's see what you've got."

Evelyn stood, her notes clutched in her hands like a shield, her smile a bright flag of enthusiasm. "Thank you, sir," she said, her voice ringing with the clear tones of determination. "Okay, based on the behavioral patterns and crime scene photos, I'd say our suspect is a male in his late thirties, likely works in a managerial position--someone who's used to being in control."

From the sidelines, Reid observed, his mentor's eyes sharp yet encouraging. As Evelyn unfolded her thoughts, he found himself quietly impressed by the clarity of her intuition and solidity of her logic. She was a natural, her talent shining through like a lighthouse in the fog.

"Also," Evelyn pressed on, her confidence swelling, "he's meticulous, organized. The way the scene is arranged, it's almost ritualistic. This isn't his first rodeo."

Hotchner absorbed her words, his face a mask of neutrality. When she concluded, he gave a slow nod. "Impressive, Evelyn. Very thorough analysis."

Reid leaned in, his gaze locking with Evelyn's. "You're right about the control aspect," he offered softly, his voice a harmonious contrast to Hotchner's commanding tone. "But consider this--the suspect might also crave recognition. The 'ritualistic' aspect could be a signature, a way to stand out."

Evelyn's eyes stayed on Reid; her respect evident. "That's a really good point, thank you, Dr. Reid--Spencer," she corrected, a blush coloring her cheeks.

A hush fell over the room, all eyes drawn to the pair. Then, like a burst of sunlight through clouds, Garcia tumbled into the room, her arms laden with case files and her attire a splash of color. "Sorry, I'm late, traffic was a nightmare!" she announced, but her tone softened as she caught sight of Evelyn. "Oh, you're doing the mock case today! You go, girl!"

Evelyn's smile returned, buoyed by Garcia's infectious cheer. The room came alive with a fresh vigor, the team converging to weave their insights on Evelyn's building profile.

As the discussion continues, Spencer leaned in, his voice a low murmur meant only for Evelyn. "You have a good instinct for this," he murmured, his eyes twinkling with pride.

The moment shattered as JJ burst through the door, her breaths quick and sharp, cutting through the quiet. "Sorry to interrupt," she gasped, "But we've got a situation. The 'Charleston Choker'--he's active again."

A heavy silence fell, the team's focus coalescing into a sharp point. Hotchner's nod was silent, a nonverbal command that set the wheels in motion. "Go ahead, JJ."

With a sense of solemnity, JJ unfurled the folder, her fingers tracing the outline of a lily in a crime scene photo. "Two hours ago, a jogger found a body in the woods outside of Charleston. Strangulation, posed, and..." Her voice faltered, the weight of the words heavy on her tongue, "...a lily placed in the victim's hands."

Reid's mind was a whirl with patterns and profiles, his thoughts racing ahead. "That's the third this month. The escalation is consistent with his pattern."

Evelyn's response with a bright flame of determination, tinged with a concern of the uninitiated. "What's our timeline looking like? How fast is he moving now?"

"Faster," JJ returned, her gaze locking with Evelyn's, a silent exchange of resolve. "Days instead of weeks."

Garcia chimed in from her nest of monitors, "And I just cross-referenced florists in the area. There's a purchase that stands out--cash, large quantities. It could be our guy."

Evelyn's eyes shone, the thrill of her first case igniting a spark within. "That's something! Can we get a location?"

Reid's smile was tinged with pride and a hint of concern. "We can, and we will. But we need to be careful. This unsub is cautious; he's been evading us for a reason."

Hotchner rose, his very stance a commandment. "Wheels up in 30. JJ, brief us on the way. Garcia, send everything you have to the tablets."

The team began to mobilize, the urgency palpable. As they walked out, Evelyn turned to Reid, her voice a mix of excitement and naivety. "This is it, huh? The real deal?"

Reid nodded, the protective edge in his voice unmistakable. "It is. And remember, it's not about just catching him--it's about saving the next potential victim."

--

Evelyn's first step onto the BAU jet was like stepping into another world--one where the grim realities of their job were momentarily eclipsed by the sheer luxury of federal funding. The plush leather seats, the soft hum of the engines, it was all so... cinematic.

As she settled into the seat beside Hotchner, the reality of her situation began to sink in. She was here, really here, on the jet she'd seen countless times from her father, now filled with the tangible presence of her new colleagues--legends in their own right. And then there was Hotchner, the epitome of stoic leadership, his profile as he reviewed case files was a study in concentration. Evelyn couldn't help but steal glances, each one leaving her more awestruck than the last.

Hothcner's brow raised as his focus stayed on the case file. "Something on your mind, Evelyn?" he inquired, his voice steady.

Evelyn's cheeks were a canvas of emotion, painted with the embarrassment of being caught ogling as she averted her eyes. "Just... taking it all in. It's a lot to process," she said, her voice a whisper of excitement against the backdrop of her new reality.

A smile, rare and fleeting, graced Hotchner's lips. "It can be overwhelming at first," he acknowledged, his words a gentle nudge of encouragement.

The jet engines roared to life, and as they ascended, Evelyn felt the weight of her new reality. She was flying high, both literally and metaphorically on the wings of her dreams and the gravity of their mission. The juxtaposition was dizzying.

JJ commanded the room from the head of the plane, her laser pointer a wand of urgency as she traced the geography of the investigation. "This is where the last body was found," she intoned, each word heavy with the gravity of their task. "And here, and here. All within a ten-mile radius."

Morgan's posture was that of a statue, contemplative and still. "He's got a comfort zone. He's not taking any chances, staying close to what he knows," he mused, his thoughts a fortress around the profile they were building.

"Which means he's likely a local. Someone who blends in, who wouldn't raise suspicion," Reid contributes, his voice a sound of reason.

Evelyn observed with the intensity of a hawk. Her notes were a flurry of ink and paper, a physical manifestation of her fervor to contribute.

"So, we're looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least we know which haystack," she offered, her optimism a beacon in the fog of uncertainty.

Garcia's voice, a familiar melody, filled the space from the screen. "And I'm sifting through it as we speak, my doves. I'll find that needle," she promised, her determination a tangible force even through the digital divide.

Hotchner's nod was a silent decree, a sign of approval and command. "Good. Keep us updated, Garcia," he directed.

The team continues to brainstorm, throwing out theories and ideas. Evelyn sat amidst the seasoned agents; her eyes wide with a childlike wonder. Her enthusiasm was infectious, a palpable energy that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her heartbeat--fast, eager, alive. Hotchner watched her, his gaze the steady flame in her excitement.

There was a softness there, a rare glimpse of approval that softened the hard lines of his face. He saw in her the spark that had once driven him, the unquenchable thirst for justice that was the lifeblood of their work.

Evelyn's idea cut through the hum of the plane's descent. "What if we set up a roadblock? Check vehicles coming in and out of the area?" Her voice a symphony of eagerness.

Rossi smirks at her words. "Not a bad idea for a rookie," he mused, his words a gentle tease wrapped in the velvet of experience.

As the plane continues to descend, the team starts to pack up their gear. Hotchner remained seated, his gaze anchoring Evelyn in place.

"Listen, Evelyn," he said, his tone even, "I know this is exciting for you, your first real case. But remember, this job... it can take a lot out of you. It can change you."

Evelyn nodded, her shine not dimming. "I know. But I'm ready."

Hotchner's expression softened just a touch. "Just don't lose that optimism. It's rare in this line of work, and it's... refreshing."

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