#and still. he sees her crack the earth open with her first and just. smiles

[teamsasukes]

kishimoto: now we don't have time to unpack all of that

[hearts4renaa]

SO HIGHSCHOOL ~

summary: all the corny, cute, romcom type things you guys do that makes everyone at NRC swoon. featuring the dorm leaders. contains: 1.4k words in total of fluff fluff and more fluff. gn reader, one of the lyrics i reference uses "her" but that's it. a/n: inspired by 'so high school' by taylor swift! i might make this into a series.... lololol we'll see! please enjoyy

“’Cause I feel so high school, every time I look at you ~”

“You knew what you wanted, and boy, you got her ~”

Riddle went above and beyond while courting you, giving you flowers, remembering and celebrating basically every important date, and eventually officially asking you to be his.

You giggle and almost coo when you open your locker to yet another small bundle of roses. You gently grab the small bouquet, letting yourself relish in both the floral scent and the affection you feel by this gesture. Ace and Deuce groan from besides you, already knowing who they’re from. “Geez, that guy and his roses, hey?” Ace comments. “That’s the third one within the past four weeks!”

You shush Ace playfully, your fingers trailing over the little paper tag attached to the ribbon. Your brain recognizes the penmanship almost immediately, for this handwriting has expressed numerous words of love towards you countless times before. Your heart flutters as your eyes scan the paper.

I love you forever, dearest.

“Truth, dare, spin bottles. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle ~”

You go to all of Leona’s Spelldrive games! you show up in Savanaclaw colors, your hair styled like his, and the biggest smile on earth.

“And look at that!” the Spelldrive announcer exclaims. “Yet another goal from Savanaclaw’s very own Housewarden,” The camera captures Leona’s signature smirk as he high fives a nearby teammate, high off the adrenaline of the game. “He’s playing well tonight,” The announcer speaks. “And I think we all know why!”

The camera pans to your absolutely shining face, cheering from the stands with crinkled eyes and hands clapping. Leona pauses for a moment to look at you, his eyes locating you almost immediately. “I love you, you’re doing great!” You mouth to him in pure excitement. Leona cracks a small smile before getting his head back in the game. He scored six more times that night.

“Get my car door, isn’t that sweet? Then pull me to the backseat ~”

Azul gives you total gentleman treatment! You haven’t opened a door in ages and you completely forgot what carrying a bag feels like.

“Thanks for tonight, Azul.” You smile at him as the two of you begin to approach the entrance of the Ramshackle dorm building. “I had a great time, as always. You didn’t have to walk me home, again, though.” You chuckle lightly. Azul gives a small smirk back, but his eyes gleam at your comments. His hand squeeze yours just a little tighter, and a faint blush starts to creep up his face.

“I’m glad,” He says softly. “And you know I’d do almost anything to spend more time with you.” Your front door comes fully into view and you feel as if it’s ending all too fast. Despite how many dates you’ve gone on, the rush of being out with Azul is something you’ll never get fully used to. He always leaves you craving him and his company. The two of you come to a still at your porch, and he turns to face you. He whispers your name, bringing your hand to his mouth and lightly kissing your knuckles. You swear that no fairytale prince could ever compete against him.

“I’m high from smoking your jokes all damn night ~”

You’re the first person Kalim looks at when he tells a joke. Taking you to his family home proved that he was absolutely serious about you, and it’s so evident that his siblings can see how much he loves you too.

The group of younger siblings burst into another fit of laughter at Kalim’s joke, as if they had never heard anything funnier in their lives. “Again, Kalim,” One of his brothers tugs on his sleeve. “Tell another one!”

While Kalim’s jokes were inevitably corny, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as well. The smiles of the little children were infectious, their energy fueling your own joy. Kalim tells another joke, but his eyes weren’t focused on his siblings’ reactions. No, he wasn’t even looking at their faces at all. His eyes automatically find your figure with each joke he tells, and he feels his heart swell each time you laugh. With your head thrown back and your eyes wrinkled with giggles, he’s never seen a sight more beautiful.

“Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It’s just a game, but really, I’m betting on all three, for us two ~”

Vil likes to mention you in his interviews, and he does it almost unconsciously. Questions about his romantic life are inevitable with someone of his level of fame, but he handles each one with grace.

The studio lights would be blinding for most, but Vil’s been in this industry for so long that he’s gotten used to it. The questions from the interview have been rapid fire, and Vil responds to each one with a graceful, almost calculated response. He’s been running on autopilot the entire morning; well, until your name gets brought up.

“Now, I just have to ask,” The interviewer crosses her legs and leans in towards Vil, as if he was telling her a secret. “Kiss, marry, kill: Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, and your partner, Y/N?”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment before answering the question. “I wouldn’t kill any of them,” Vil responds with a small smirk. Kissing you is as easy as breathing to him, and the idea of marrying you sends a chill down his spine. He loves you like he was made for it, and his devotion shines like a glittering gem. Vil continues his response. “But the first two options are reserved for Y/N and Y/N only.”

“Brand new, full throttle. Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto ~”

Idia likes to have some sort of physical contact with you at all times. At first, he was really jumpy, but your touch has become a comfort to him.

You hum as you lean onto Idia, your head resting on his shoulder. The lights in his room are dim, save for the bright TV near the edge of his bed. Your left arm is linked with his right one and you nuzzle your cheek into the fabric of his sweater. The clicking sounds of Idia’s controller lull you into a drowsy state, the late hours starting to hit you.

Idia looks away from his game to gaze at your sleepy figure, and he feels his cheeks start to heat up. It’s definitely not the first time you’ve done this, but the intimacy of it all still brings a warm, fuzzy feeling into his chest. The idea that the two of you could simply link arms, sit in silence, and do your own things and be content astounds him just a little bit; He thought you would’ve gotten bored. Your affection for each other runs much deeper, but you can feel all of it in the form of linked arms.

“No one’s ever had me, not like you ~”

What’s there that Malleus doesn’t do for you? But seriously, one of his favorite things to do with you is stargaze at nighttime, where his affection for you is at an all time high.

The night air is soothing as the chill creeps up your skin, keeping you awake. Malleus sits next to you, his presence being a comfort. The moon is bright tonight, the field quiet, with the occasional chirp from the nearby birds. The stars in the sky create a masterpiece of little lights, and Malleus can’t help but stare at you like you’re a work of art.

Malleus rubs his thumb into the flesh of your hand, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. He feels the sudden need to ask a question that’s been weighing on him for a little while. His voice rings in your ears.

“You truly don’t fear me?”

You giggle lightly, letting go of his hand and turning to fully face him. Your fingers brush past his cheeks, cupping them gently and bringing your foreheads together. “I could never,” You whisper, smiling brightly. “Not when you love me so deeply.” His heart swells with affection. You open your mouth to continue, but his lips crash against yours before you can get another word out.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Working Late

Had this idea stuck in my head for past few days so had to write it up. Quick little oneshot, 1.6k words. Self inflicted birth denial, clothing birth, voyeurism, but soft fluffy ending. Enjoy.

You were working late again. The sun had set hours ago, the dark evening sky barely visible through the windows, the office an unusually quiet ghost town. Unfortunately the conference call with your American counterparts could not be moved and with the time difference you had to stay late, long after the rest of your company had gone home for the day. Well you weren’t entirely alone this evening; your wife, and joint business owner, also stayed late deciding to finish up some things before she went on maternity leave next week. It made sense to work the same hours and go home together.

When your meeting was finished, you packed up your things and headed down the corridor towards her office. The door was slightly ajar, you were just about to knock and enter when you heard a long quiet moaning sound.

You paused, putting an ear closer towards the crack in the door, a smile pulling at your lips realising what she was doing. The pregnancy had made her insatiably horny, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d relieved that itch here in this office. Though you were a little miffed she hadn’t invited you this time deciding to go at it solo.

“Mmmnggh- oh god!” Moaned your wife beyond the door.

The arousing sounds had an immediate effect on you, turning you on despite the late hour and the long work day. You quietly opened the door a little more, wanting to watch and catch her in the act. But instead of seeing her in her chair with one hand down her pants as you expected, she was standing, her back to the door, bracing the wooden desk and swaying her hips.

“Oooohhhh-…don’t come now…” she moaned quietly.

What on earth was she doing, you wondered. The question was soon answered when she grunted and slightly squatted in front of her desk.

Oh my god, she was in labour! Panic clenched your heart. You should rush into her office, to help and support her, but her continued moaning and grunting kept the arousal firm in your pants. You couldn’t go in there like this.

“Mmmmmffh- baby wait a bit longer please!” She panted and shifted around the room, unaware of your presence. “Your daddy is in an important m-meeting… mnnnnhh… when he’s finished he can - take us - to hospital… then you can come o-outtt… nnnnngghh”

You watched the way her hips circled in between each contraction, the way her knees dipped at every pain, the way her beautifully tight round stomach having dropped low on her hips a few days ago contracted visibly through her thin dress, the way her swollen breasts heaved with every laboured breath. The sight had you frozen, in fear and fascination and arousal, leaving you standing in the dark corridor watching her through the gap in the doorframe.

“Oooohhhh it’s so low…. Mnnnnghhh-oh god! I t-think..I need to p-push… hooohooohooohooo no! Not now… daddy isn’t here yet…”

Your labouring wife grasped the edge of her desk, moaning and whimpering. Her stance had widened, her knees were buckling, and yet you couldn’t move. Every sound escaping from her lips pumped more blood to your groin.

“Nnnnngghhhh!” She leant an elbow down on the desk, her other hand cupping the swell of her heavy stomach which just accentuated the size of her full term bump. It really was huge, you had no idea how she managed to carry the extra weight and still dress the way she did - in her staple black dress and heels. Even when heavily pregnant she was still every inch the successful corporate woman you fell in love with.

“Hooohooo- you can’t come out now baby…. Please. Oooohhhh…Don’t push… don’t push…”she panted a mantra to herself.

You were transfixed; watching her struggle and sweat and labour in the office where your baby was probably conceived.

Suddenly she grunted, a deep gravelly sound, and you nearly climaxed in your pants.

“Oh my god…was that- shit, my water just b-b-broke!” She looked past her swollen stomach to see her stiletto heels now soaked in amniotic fluid. “Ooooohhhhh… Y-you’re really coming n-now aren’t you little o-one? Hoooooo- where’s… where’s your dad?”

Rubbing her contracting stomach and raising her head, your wife looked towards the door. You had no idea why but you disappeared out of sight the second she looked up, concealing yourself behind the wooden door. You should go in, you should help her, she was having your baby. And yet, your legs didn’t move.

“Okay… okay baby. Looks like hooooo it’s just you and m-me…” You heard her say, still out of sight but well within earshot. You heard movement inside the room and took a chance peeking round the door.

She had kicked off her heels and lowered herself to the ground, kneeling beside her desk with her arms up gripping the edge. She hummed, rocking slightly back forth, clearly preparing herself for the next wave. Then suddenly she sucked in a gulp of air before letting out a long lowing sound, deep and primal, and sinking back on her heels as she pushed. Hard.

Your jaw slackened, watching fascinated from outside. This woman was incredible, absolutely beautiful, listening to her body and following her instincts, birthing your baby right here in her office. You fell more and more in love with her with every grunting sound she made.

“Mmnnnggghhhh!!!!!!!” She roared, “fuck…. The head… I can feel it coming….”

She let go of the desk, a little unsteady without the support, scrambling underneath her flowing dress. Oh my god, she was delivering your baby, right here right now.

“Oh oh oh no- I can’t…. get-them-off!!!!” She cried, and you realised she was still wearing her underwear and was struggling to get them past her hips with her widened knees.

“Hooooohoooo oh baby wait a second… need to make room… I’ve got to take them off… I’ve got to…. I’ve got to…. Oh shit I’ve gotta pushhhhhh-NNNNGGGGGH!”

Your wife growled again, bearing down with everything she had despite her underwear blocking the baby’s exit. It was the hottest sound you’d ever heard. She gasped in between pushes, trying to tug her knickers out of the way. But to no avail.

“Oohhhhhhh I can feel you…. Oh my god there’s your h-head-hoooohoooo.” Her dress was pulled up and you could see her cupping the bulge that was pushing against the fabric of her underwear.

You baby was crowning, but your wife was struggling. The fierce lioness from a moment ago, who was confidently delivering her baby unassisted, was starting to panic. The baby was coming out and she was pushing hard, but she couldn’t move to take off her underwear, the head retreating after every push by the restrictive fabric. You could see the panic gathering in her eyes as she failed to break free from her knickers and her body struggled to birth the head. Tears welled in her eyes and it broke your heart; the spell of your voyeurism vanished in a heartbeat.

You immediately threw open the door and rushed over to her.

“Oh sweetheart.” You whispered, kneeling down beside her.

“You- you made it. Hooooo The baby…. is coming….” She grasped on to your for dear life, pulling at the lapels on your suit jacket as she grunted and pushed again.

“You are doing amazing, darling.” You encouraged, supporting her weight under her arms.

“Get-my-pants-off-now!!!!” She growled against your chest.

“Okay, just hold on to me. I’ll get them off.” You assured, moving her trembling hands to your shoulders, freeing your own to help deliver this child.

The thin material stretched across her widened hips, you hooked your thumb on either side and pulled down but they would only go so far with her knees splayed.

“I need to you move a little bit-”

“Move?! Are you serious? I can’t move! Grrgghhh!”

“Just a little bit darling, I need your knees closer together so I can get these knickers off…”

“I can’t… this baby needs to come out now. Oh god I need to push!!!!! Just get them off-get them off!!!”

You tried to rip the fabric but it was stretched too tight you couldn’t break it. Frantically you looked around to see if anything else could help, and thankfully your eyes found the scissors on your wife’s desk. Grabbing them quickly, you carefully cut the fabric at one hip and they immediately fell to the floor.

“Oh thank fuck!” Your wife gasped, still clinging on to your shoulders she widened her legs and sank closer to the floor in a deep strong push. “Here it comes…. MNNNGGGHHHHH!”

Before you could react, the head popped out with another gush of fluid. Your wife eased her grip on you, panting heavily in relief.

“Hoooohoooo- oh my god… that’s our baby.” Her hand cupped the newly born head, and she looked up at you and smiled.

“You are incredible.” You kissed her sweat-dampened forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in labour?”

“I didn’t realise I was in labour, and when I did… hooooohoooo you were on your conference call. I knew it was important and I thought I had plenty of t-time… ooooohhhhhh god. I’m feeling pressure again….”

“Do you need to push? Is it time?”

“I think so… mmmnnnnh… are you ready to meet our b-baby?” You wife asked, a smile still tugging at her lips despite the rising pain.

“Of course, let’s meet our baby.”

Your wife shifted, stealing herself ready for the peak of the contraction that was building. Her hands braced against your shoulders, while your own were poised ready between her thighs.

Your beautiful wife grunted again, deep and long, as she pushed. You held her hips steady when she twitched and yelped as the shoulders stretched her wide, and a few seconds later your baby was born into your hands. A baby boy born at 8:56pm on the floor in your wife’s office at the company you’d build together.

[midascrow]

Lucifer x GN!Reader

A Fan of the Devil?

———————//————

synopsis: Charlie’s father is introduced to the hotels “Gardener”, and comes to find out that they’re a fallen soul from above. He’s also surprised to learn that they’re a fan of his.

warnings: religious pressure(?)

an: Part 1? If this is well received ofc. This is told from Lucifer’s perspective and therefore his view and inner thoughts regarding what’s going on around him. I also threw in the idea that he’s bad with names cuz that feels very accurate to me lol

—————————————————————-

He hadn’t expected his daughter’s friends to be so….eccentric, upon meeting them. Of course he knew Charlie’s heart bled gold for any sinner around, but he thought-, more so he hoped that she would keep somewhat better company.

Especially in the revelation of this “RaDiO DEmOn”.

Baggie- Mag- Vaggie, was alright he supposed. She loves his daughter, perhaps just as much as he does,that much he was sure. And while he was a bit disheartened by having not known of their relationship prior, he was still content and moved by the way the two leaned towards each others embrace as they spoke.

His heart ached. Just a bit.

“Are they up in their room again?”

“I think they’re in the Garden again, hon.”

Garden? The hotel had a garden?

“Oh! Oh maybe we could-“

“I don’t know…you know how they can be about us going in there..”

“Pshhhh! I’m sure it’ll be fine Vaggie! Plus remember how they always talked about meeting him??”

Meeting who? Who’s meeting who??

Was there some kind of owl in here?

“Dad!”

“Ah!”

Charlie blinked down at her father in an awkward beam, watching his red eyes dart around nervously, for a moment or two. “Who?!-“ His throat dried and swelled in embarrassment, cracking his voice as he fixed his pride with a dust off his hat. “Uhm…Yes? Char?” Nailed it. Totally. Very cool and suave of you big boss.

His daughter smiled, a crease in her brow before she clasped his arm and tugged him forward, away from the peering eyes of the others and down a long corridor. “There’s someone- Well-there’s someone who’s been dying to meet you! Yknow ever since they arrived here it’s just be non stop-“

Someone wanted to meet him? Why??

Surely they were a weirdo.

His grimace must’ve given him away, because Vaggie, who he hadnt noticed following them till the moment of, gave a small hum, to cut through her girlfriends words.

“They were a bit of a fanatic on earth apparently.”

He dead panned.

“A cultist.”

“No.”

“A satanist?”

“That’s not even what satanists do!”

“…..”

“….A banker-“

“Just-!….Wait and you’ll see.”

He fell silent at that, a frown pulled onto his pale lips as his feet dragged him towards wherever they were headed.

He was a bit stumped when they came upon two large doors, both decorated in shimmering glass mozaics, depicting two dividing scenes. An Angel; hands carefully cupped around a beautifully red apple, kneeled down towards the other mural, was depicted on the right. And on the Left, in the same position, with the same red apple, a demon.

He shifted uncomfortably.

“Wow Honey! I uh- Didn’t know this door even existed! It’s very cool, yes yes very cool- now let’s head back to the-!” He called nervously, a half witted laugh leaving his sharp tooth smile as Charlie nodded vigorously, shiney eyes aglow as she took hold of the golden handles of the ornate doors, pulling them open with a mighty huff as a golden light spilled from inside.

It was startling to say the least, fact proven by how Lucifer felt his wings practically shoot from his back in defense, feathers cascading down in time with the petals and leaves that followed an imaginary breeze through the threshold.

His ears strained to hear the quiet sound of rushing water and leaves shaking, birds chirping and insects buzzing quietly somewhere in the back.

His skin warmed. Not in the way it naturally did from hells weather, but as if the sun was beaming down on his skin for the first time in eons. Of course, he knew it was fake. But it was so close.

“Oh- shit! Charlie!” A voice barked beyond the golden glow of the garden, a figure stepping out from the shadows of a large bush, covered in leaves and flowers as they stumbled clumsily through, racing towards the door and slamming it shut, completely ignorant to the king beside their hip, who’s gaze pierced them in silent wonder.

He hadn’t felt that in a while.

“What did I tell you about coming in unannounced! You could throw off the entire ecosystem! The slightest temperature shift might make one of the flowers wilt or one of the fruits shrivel! At least warn me before-“

“Ahem.”

The sinner paused, shoulders jumping stiffly as they froze, finger pointed towards Charlie rudely from their rant before their gaze shifted to the side.

He heard the way their breath hitched, and his chest puffed slightly in pride, wings fluttering just slightly.

“Hello there.” He was being cheeky, he knew that, though his smile felt a tad too genuine, caused by the sheer awe that glimmered across the sinners face at the sight of him. “Lucifer Morningstar, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet.”

He couldn’t find it in himself to dislike that look. He was the avatar of pride after all.

And a small part of him took a rather large enjoyment in the stuttering and stumbling of the sinner before him.

“Y-Your highness! Oh my gosh-“ He grinned “I wasn’t expecting your company- I would’ve dressed more- well I-“ Vaggie coughed from the side, redirecting their attention as they picked the stray foliage form their hair and clothes in a frenzy, towards the garden around them.

With a startled gasp they quickly stepped to the side, nearly tumbling in their haste as they held their arm out, presenting the garden to the king. “It’s..it’s an honor to meet you Sir.” Your voice was steadier, but still thick with anxiety that stuck like molasses to your tongue.

He watched your hand tremble, just slightly. Like his.

His wings fluttered again. A warm feeling bursting through his chest and into his eyes, giving them that shine that reflected the faux golden glow of the sun in the large green room. “The pleasures all mine, My dear. Do you mind explaining what it is you have-.…here”

His smile faltered, gaze stuck on the tree that stood tall and proud in the center of the spacious garden. Its leaves and branches stretched far, each adorned by beautiful red..apples, that hung and shimmered in the light. He expected the familiar ache of guilt to swarm his heart, but was surprised when he found himself breathless instead.

“I hope it’s..somewhat accurate. I’ve only seen recreations of course, never the real thing..” Your voice was a bit muffled in his mind.

He felt you step cautiously beside him, as he continued to gaze reverently at the scene before him. Shadows and memories danced past his eyes and through the patches of sun that decorated the floor. He swore he could hear quiet calls and whispers mix with the rustling leaves.

“You made this?” It wasn’t really a question.

Plants weren’t common in hell. Especially none such as this. They simply couldn’t grow in the rotted soil that spread across his kingdom. And there was simply no pure water to be found that could sustain them. So how-

“I might’ve take a few things before I fell.” You laughed shyly, cheeks warmed under the sun and the intense gaze of the King that snapped towards you.

Lucifer finally got a proper look at you. At your eyes and your features. Your afflictions. There was no denying you were a human soul. It was clear as day and still beat deep in your being. But..

“You were in heaven?” He gasped, eyes wide, mouth agape as he turned fully towards you, the grip on his cane tight as he scanned over the few demonic markings that lined your body, and the big golden X that flashed across your entire being. For only his eyes to see.

A virtuous soul cast out? Was that even possible? To turn away a true, virtuous soul, one of the few who had made it into heavens gate from their life on earth-

“It’s safe to say I didn’t truly agree with heavens teachings. It was too…polished.” There was an easy going smile that matched your tone, as you let your eyes wander towards the tree that wisely outshined every other plant in the garden. You continued.

“Heaven wasn’t my first choice. Frankly I didnt believe in it to begin with. But my folks were..somewhat of zealots. They wanted the best for me, I know that. But I missed…” You paused, seemingly thoughtful as Lucifer watched you with rapt attention, you both becoming ignorant to the two lovers that slipped out.

Charlie smiled softly to herself. Her dad needed this.

“I missed the free will that their religion took away from me.” Your gaze was knowing, almost wise like the tree when it peered back into his own, and Lucifer swore he felt something crack. Something lift from his shoulders and pulled his wings away, letting them spread proudly, in a way he hadn’t felt or experienced in years. Possibly ever.

“You know….I always enjoyed the story of you they told on earth.” Lucifer grimaced again, the vision of you dimming for a moment as he glanced away.

“Is that so? I’m sure they’re singing my praises.” It was a dry laugh, his hands gesturing in a faux confidence, but his lips quirked when he heard your muffled one.

“No, many aren’t. Most seem to align themselves with Heavens view…” You hummed thoughtfully and stepped forwards into the soft grass that peaked through the cracks of brimstone. Lucifer followed, instinctively. He felt leashed by your presence, though not necessarily in a bad way.

“Though there are plenty, who think a little more like me. There’s many versions of your story. I always knew that the original couldn’t be the full story. Too..one sided. Time on earth taught me that there was always a second side. Someone’s else thoughts-, perspective. Falling only confirmed that.”

You words tangled with your fingers that fluttered across the branches of a close bush, caressing a small flower that curled into your touch. “The first thing I did was look for the story. Of the garden. I wanted to replicate it, though admittedly there was never much detail to go off!”

You laughed again and the sound was quickly becoming a favorite of his. It was gentle..understanding. It almost hurt.

“And when I read the story..it was different. More romantic for sure.” You flushed softly, cheeks warm again as you recalled the way the story of Lucifer and Lilith warmed your soul. “But..more honest. Heart breaking even. I couldn’t believe how horrible it was must’ve been…and never knowing how amazing your gift was..” you turned to him again, your gaze so earnest and true that it made him step back.

Lucifer couldn’t deny the warmth in his own cheeks. You were pretty..pretty? That felt mundane. You practically glowed in the garden. And while it wasn’t a perfect representation of what Eden had been, it was better.

Eden had always been..one dimensional. It lacked the depth and feeling that Lucifer had hoped to give humanity. It was gorgeous, there was no denying that. But it wasn’t real.

This…This, is what he had hoped for the garden to be. Alive. Truly alive.

And…you brought it life…because of him? It didn’t feel right in a way. Having spent so many years locked away by himself and mourning the sin and ruin he had created from his own selfish wish.

Selfish? Had it been selfish? At the time, when he had done it, it didn’t feel selfish. He wanted humanity to live. To be alive! Truly, and honestly alive.

And you were so Alive. You were dead here in hell and yet you were breathing life into this gorgeous scene because you chose to. You chose to fall too. You chose to be in hell.

Because of him? Because of his…gift?

It was ironic almost. Laughable even.

Your lips pursed, a worried sweat on your brow as you lost that roaring confidence that bled into your words prior. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to preach or anything-“ He stopped you.

“So-.…you’re a fan?” His lips screwed into a wobbly smile, embarrassment creeping up his neck at his less then poetic comment, though the laugh you graced him with almost made the shame worth it.

“You could say that. I personally think I hold the title of number one fan, but you know beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.” You gestured animatedly, a small smirk on your lips as you professed your..favor towards the king, and he gleamed.

“Well!” His hands flew to his suit, straightening it out and letting his chest puff out from its slumped frame. “May I know the name of my, alleged, number one fan?” His words were coy, smug as he gestured to you with a flourish that he had shown to the other residents. (Of course till you had so rudely stunned him to silence)

The smile you gifted him was holy.

“(Y/N)…Your highness.” Your bow was playful, a little awkward and strained, but it made him laugh.

“(Y/n), hm? I’ll be sure to remember that.” His throat cleared briefly, “I…hope you wouldn’t mind me stopping by sometime again soon..I’d like to hear a bit more about your garden.” He liked the way you looked at him in this moment. Disbelieving but so hopeful. Like he was something, someone to gaze at in such a way.

“I’d be honored.”

Maybe you had a fan of your own now, as well.

———————☆

[junkdrawerfics]

Game On

(one of my favorite clips, lowkey)

Jasper X Reader

Summary: A little snippet of wolf!reader playing baseball with the Cullens. You and Emmett have a little rivalry going, and you'll do anything for some Jasper scratches.

Word Count: 1021

---

“You sure you can keep up with us, wolfie?” Emmet calls from the batter’s box with an absolutely snarky grin.

You cock a brow at him, settling into a crouch with an equally vicious smile, “Just you watch me, Em, you won’t make it to first base.”

“I’d like to see that,” he taunts back, twisting his grip on the bat and posing it over his shoulder.

Jasper chuckles from across the field, the sound easily reaching your sensitive ears, “Take it easy on him, darlin’.”

“No can do, Jas.” Your friendly rivalry with Emmett started as soon as you and Jasper got together, only made worse by you being a shifter. Competitiveness runs deep in your blood. “Someone has to put him in his place, and you pansies sure aren’t going to.”

“Ooh-” Emmett hisses through his teeth dramatically. “-you gonna let her talk to you like that?”

“I’m not one to get offended by a few words,” Jasper shoots back, smirk all too cocky, “Not like when you whined a full week when she called you a cream puff.”

“Hey-”

“It’s time!” Alice chimes before Emmett can stand up for himself.

You snicker and he throws a glare your way.

Game on.

With your enhanced speed and strength, you put up a good fight against the vampires. It’s almost unfair, you and Jasper working perfectly in sync, getting them out one at a time. On your turn to bat, the feeling of smashing the ball, brutal and unrestrained, makes your whole body spark to life, driving you through the plates like a flash of lightning. It’s exhilarating.

Nearing the end of the thunderstorm, the game is close, your team up by one run. Emmett is back up to bat. Chest heaving, heart pounding, you make eye contact with him and, with the most wolfish smile, mouth a silent, ‘Bring it.’

Emmett scowls, eyes focusing back on Alice, and you hear Jasper chuckle softly.

Alice winds up, moving with practiced ease, and launches the baseball straight down the line. A crack of thunder overlaps the loud ring of the bat slamming into it, and it goes flying. You go flying after it.

You tear through the trees, eyes bright with glee as you follow the ball. The wind whips your hair around wildly, the damp ground giving way under your feet. You feel free. Out of breath, every muscle aching, but free. The moment right before your feet leave the ground, adrenaline surges through every cell of your body and you explode into a mess of fur and snapping teeth.

You jump, far too high, far too fast. But your teeth clamp down on the baseball, practically ripping through the leather, before you go crashing to the ground in a flurry of dirt and grass. The earth shakes at your impact, the sound louder than the storm’s thunder.

“(Y/n)!”

The family of vampires freeze, eyes wide. Jasper races after you. Worry burns through his veins as he comes to a stop at the crater’s edge. Gold eyes narrowed, he desperately searches through the haze of dirt for a sign that you’re okay.

Then you pop back up, and all his concern dissipates. You, in wolf form, look up at him with happy, squinted eyes, the ball still clamped firmly in your jaws. Your whole body practically shakes with how hard your tail is wagging.

“Well look at you,” the blond sighs, shaking his head, “I didn’t know wolves could fly, darlin’.”

Shaking off the dirt clinging to your fur, you scramble out of the hole you created. Without hesitation, you push into Jasper’s open arms. He chuckles as you wiggle in his grip, letting out little happy huffs as he scratches your head. You love it when he gives you scratches in wolf form, it’s like getting a massage in human form.

“You know-” You perk your ears and pause to look up at his slanted, mischievous grin. “-Emmett won’t like this.”

You let out a muffled ‘woof’. He better not like it, because he just signed his defeat. You won. The thought makes you growl happily as you adjust the ball in your mouth. Time to show off your victory.

Jasper sticks by your side and you trot back to the field. The moment you reach the tree line, Emmett lets out a loud, rumbling groan.

“That has to be cheating!”

“Umpire?”

Everyone turns to Esme. Emmett looks so hopeful, but then she looks at you and winks. You’ve never been so happy to see someone’s face plummet.

“You’re out, Emmett.”

You drop the ball and let out a small victorious howl. The man glares at you playfully, but you catch the smallest glimpse of a smile when you do a few happy stomps and throw yourself at Jasper. The blond grunts as your full weight takes you both to the ground. 

“Darlin’,” he wheezes out a bright laugh, “you’re crushing me.”

You huff, not caring even a bit as you drop your head on top of his chest. More scratches. You deserve more scratches, you won the game! Jasper can feel your insistence, having grown accustomed to reading your more chaotic emotions in this form, and gives in when you nudge him with your nose, licking his face. He curls his fingers through your thick fur, earning a happy grumble from you.

“We’re going to head back to the house,” Carlisle announces, voice ringing with amusement, “Feel free to join us when you would like to.”

Which ends up being far later in the night because there is something so lovely about just curling up with your vampire and watching the stars come out. He eventually goes and retrieves your extra clothes (he started keeping some with him after several phasing accidents) and you return to the Cullen household, where you mercilessly mock Emmett.

“How does it feel to lose to a wolf, cream puff?”

“(Y/n), I swear to God I’m gonna-”

You dash up the stairs, giggling wildly. Jasper follows behind slowly, tossing the bigger vampire a smug grin.

“Next time, you shouldn’t underestimate her.”

---

This idea came to me at like midnight and I wrote down the idea and I love it. I hope you guys enjoyed it too!

[alrtyhoney]

The rundown: You looked like someone Miguel terribly misses– his daughter. (FIRST PART)

Content: Miguel x Daughter!Reader (wc: 1359)

“Have you thought about it already?” 

The girl remains focused on her drawings, doodling away. “About what?” She mumbles a reply, without turning her gaze, still engrossed in her drawings. She knew what he was going to say anyway.

Miguel reaches forward and tenderly tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Your quinceanera, Gab.” He remarks warmly. 

She only laughs in return, shaking her head. It's silly, she thinks to herself. "I'm not even near being fifteen yet!" she protests in between fits of giggles. It occurred to Gabriella that his father had an ulterior motive from the sudden pique of interest in her hobbies and likes; he wasn’t particularly chatty, so the past few weeks had pushed her to finally ask him what he was trying to do. 

She didn’t understand at first. Miguel, very patiently, explained that a quinceanera was a special once-in-a-lifetime event for every girl. It was more than just a birthday celebration, it was an important milestone in her life. But she quickly discouraged the idea, not wanting to think about it so early. They had all of the time in the world, she thought, there was no reason to rush.

“I just want it to be special.” He says, “Your mother would’ve wanted that.” 

“No te preocupes, papá.” She reassures her with a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll make it special.” 

The clip ended, the screen slowly fading until only his reflection remained in the empty frame. All he could see now was a hollow shell of a man looking back at him; his expression blank and unflinching. Miguel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. That scene had etched itself into his mind, burning– mockingly so. 

Nothing could ever fill the hole that his daughter had left in his heart - like when he first held her in his arms so many years ago; her presence still obvious on his chest where her memories had imprinted themselves, a permanent reminder of the loss of a child. He trudged through life with heavy feet and an even heavier heart. 

He wonders if things could’ve been different or if he would always be incapable of keeping people in his life, always slipping from his fingers and out of his grasp.

“You’re watching it again,” Lyla appears on his shoulder, sitting there with her legs crossed. 

“What about it?” 

"That's the fourth time today," She says, her voice laced with a trace of worry that she was quick to try and disguise as part of her normal banter. It had become increasingly clear to her that something was amiss and although she was programmed to know anything, Lyla did not know much about Miguel. 

“What do you want?” 

“An anomaly is spotted in earth-829, a renaissance-like hawk wreaking havoc in a modern museum– yikes.” Lyla briefs him, “Jessica is already on standby.” 

Miguel shakes his head, sighing. “Shouldn’t she be on maternity leave already?” He asks, his suit already appearing and opening a file regarding the mission. A hologram opens in front of him, filling in the details. Vulture. “Tell her to go home. I’ll handle this one.” 

“I think you shouldn’t,” Lyla squeaks with a nervous smile on her face. “Think you really shouldn’t.”

Miguel taunts with an arrogant tilt of his head, matter-of-factly declaring, "And who's the one taking orders here?" His mask then slides firmly into place, and a portal opens beneath his feet as he steps through. Lyla knows too well by now that there isn't any room for negotiation. 

As he stepped into the unfamiliar environment, a chorus of cries and screams greeted him from the running crowd. They pushed each other to safety, a few staying to watch spider-man in action. Miguel sighs, cracking his neck as he prepares himself to step in.

However, he slightly flinches as the said hero narrowly avoids him, crashing into the wall behind him with a loud thud. She quickly scrambled back to her feet, dusting the bits of rubble from her suit. “Hello? Mascot-man? I’m kinda in the middle of something here–” 

“I’ll take it from here, kid.” If it wasn’t for the mask covering his face, his nonchalant tone would betray his expression. It was no surprise to him that someone as young as her had been bitten by a spider like so many others before her, but he knows damn well what awaits for her and that is what troubled him every time. 

“And who are you exactly?” She shouts, running towards the anomaly again. 

Miguel quickly binds the vulture's wings with his webs, allowing you to throw in a few punches before the bird regains its footing and takes off into flight. “I’m from another dimension.”

You audibly gasp, the eyes on your mask widening as you swing around, “I knew dimensions were real!” Completely unfocused, the anomaly narrows his eyes before charging towards you– before you could react to your senses tingling, you were sent tumbling to the ground, near the broken pile of rocks and other rubble. 

Miguel loudly groans, getting a hold of the enemy. “Kid, focus!” He barks out, and you immediately snap back to what you were doing, swinging enthusiastically towards him. 

“How did you do it? I mean– I tried to prove it all my life!” 

“Aren’t you 12?” He scoffs at your statement, clearly not a fan of exaggeration.

“14 – and that’s not the point, mascot-man!” 

The fight went on with you chatting and talking his ear off. Miguel had answered in dismissive grunts and his usual ‘it’s classified.’ remark, but he just couldn’t discourage your eagerness in any way. You had tired him out, more than the anomaly did.

Spider-society, magic watch, many more of you– you’ve basically summed up. 

“You should definitely let me join,” You offered cheerfully, cocking your head and wiggling your foot. The battle had finally come to a close, thanks in part to the arrival of a couple more spider-men who lent an extra hand. You had caught up to Miguel, basically begging him to let you in. “We made a great team back there old man!” 

“Old man?” 

“Okay, sensitive,” You muttered under your breath. “But seriously– I could learn more from you!” 

“Kid, listen–” 

You had cut him off again, seemingly not taking no as an answer as you tried to persuade him again. You continued to babble, not leaving any room for him to interrupt. Miguel rubbed a hand over his face, hidden beneath the fabric of his mask, as he groaned in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time today. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to you rambling on and on– patience nipping on itself from your lack of understanding with regards to the matter at hand. 

“First off, I did most of the work back there. If it weren’t for me calling for back-up, you could’ve been injured badly. This society isn’t some school club you can just sign yourself in,” He explained, already itching to return and leaving you in the dust. A liability is the last thing he needed. “You don’t have what it takes.”

You throw your head back, groaning. You take your mask off, revealing a busted lip and a frown. “Whatever, your club sounds stupid anyway.” You mumble under your breath, suddenly feeling worn out yourself. Of course what he said had stung– it had taken so much effort to learn how to control your powers over the past two months since you were bitten by that spider. It wasn’t like there was a manual or a book written for freaks that happened to have superhero powers under such circumstances. You had to learn on your own. 

Turning your back on him, you had fully expected him to disappear as well– but, to your surprise, he was totally motionless; a statue in solidarity unable to shift an inch. His stillness made the atmosphere unbearably tense and although you could not bring yourself to look back at him (well, you did call his club stupid.), you sensed his gaze upon you like a heavy weight pushing down on your shoulders. 

“Gabriella?” 

[yeonlogic]

★ baby be mine ⋆｡°✩

PAIRING bestfriend!gyu + f!reader GENRE/WARNINGS fluff, crack, friends to lovers au, gyu works in a vinyl shop, gyu gets friendzoned woopsies, mild swearing, semi smau reader is friends with chaewon & kazuha from lsrfm

SYNOPSIS you and gyu have been friends since you first saw each other at school and now your starting to develop feelings for him

wc: around 3k?

“are you done picking out a vinyl you want or what” beomgyu complained looking at you look through the compartment full of vinyls

“yeah yeah whatever, you work here anyway im sure the owner wont mind you closing up the shop late” you said as you took a look around the cd section thinking about whether you should get a cd or a vinyl.

“okay uhm I decided Im not getting anything” you chuckled nervously looking at beomgyu knowing he would say something about it

“yah you cant just spend hours looking at the shop for around 3hours and not picking anything!?” he frowned “okay okay Im sorry ill make it up to you and help you close down the shop.”

you two started closing down the shop together. as you two finished you took a look at the city in the night admiring how it looked.

“your still walking me home right..?” you said turning to him as he was locking up the shop door “yeah I always do cuz your scared of those weirdos who would come after you” he teased “well Its not my fault its scary, what if a random guy chases me or something” your voice had a hint of worry and nervousness as you said that, gyu walked up to you by your side “Its alright ill be your night and shining armor” beomgyu said jokingly “now come on its getting late.”

you two walked the streets together your hands shoved In the pocket of your hoodie, it was cold freezing cold.

“hey if you have the time you should teach me how to use the guitar” you nudged his shoulder with yours looking at him with a smile on your face, “how about tomorrow? If you can” he chuckled “also your shivering a lot.. is it that cold..?” he grabbed your wrist stopping you from walking away as he took his jacket off and draped It on your shoulders, your heart was beating from how close he was to you, you were so used to him being close to you all the time but why was this one different?

you felt your cheeks heat up a bit but you didnt worry about it too much. “thanks..” you murmured, his jacket was warm enough to block the cold, “dont mention it” he replied as you two continued to walk back to your home.

“thanks for walking me back home gyu” you smiled and gave him a hug, “also here you should take your jacket back” you took it off as beomgyu stopped you from doing it “no keep it, it looks better on you” he laughed softly “ill see you tomorrow?” “mhm” you replied as you entered your house going into your room.

you dropped onto your bed looking up at the ceiling confused about what you were feeling at that moment gyu gave you his jacket that was now wrapped around your torso.

you grabbed your phone from your pocket and opened the messages app.

you turned off your phone and placed it on your bedside table, you felt confused why were you feeling these random butterflies in your stomach whenever you think about beomgyu oh god “THE FUCKING HEART?!?!?” you screamed into your pillow “okay clam down maybe its just a platonic gesture calm down and just sleep this through.” you muttered to yourself as you layed down on your bed.

you were In a cafe with chaewon since everyone from school was on school break so you both decided to hang out today

“ugh Im so glad were on break right now i think I would’ve passed out if the teacher gave us any more test papers” she ranted and complained while you were zoned out lost in your thoughts about last night.

“y/n?, helloo earth to y/n!?, Y/N!!!” chae snapped at you “huh?” you replied “girl did you even listen to what I was saying” “uh yeah ofc”

“then what did I say?” one of her eyebrow was raised up “uhm that you wanted that bag you saw?” chaewon looked at you

“seriously y/n whats got you acting so weird this day” chaewon stared at you while sipping her iced coffee, “honestly I dont even know Its just something about last night..” you said nervously “tell me, maybe I can do something about it”

“promise me you wont laugh..?” “duhh.”

“Its just I never knew I’d look at my bestfriend differently, you know beomgyu right?” “yeah the one who works at the vinyl shop down town right” chaewon replied

“yeah.. well uhm I was with him last night and he walked me home but its something about the way he saw I was freezing and gave me his jacket— but I mean its not even that romantic Its the part where he put the jacket on me he was so..close something about that just felt so different to me because Im so used to being close with him all the time but it was just that one moment that made me realize maybe I have feelings for him..?” you sighed and covered your face with your hands “chaeeee what do I dooo” you pleaded feeling embarrassed to talk about this to your girl bestfriend

“Look as much as I dont know shit about love I can tell you definitely have feelings for him I mean.. you two were friends since 8th grade till now you two are technically inseparable” she shrugged “I guess..maybe If i just ignore him for the whole week maybe he wont notice that I have feelings for him??” “idk girl im sorry but I dont know what to do.”

6:22 PM

you arrived at the vinyl shop where you could see gyu standing at the cash register as you entered the shop and approached him.

“hey gyu um..we might have to cancel that guitar lesson since Im gonna be busy this day” you smiled nervously at him hoping he wouldn’t ask you why or what your gonna do. “oh alright..” he said, you could feel a bit of sadness from his voice and you felt bad because of it, “maybe next time?” you said as you left the shop feeling guilty.

beomgyu went home to his shared apartment with his friends as he saw soobin and hueningkai playing a videogame together on the couch, gyu approached them and grabbed the tv remote and turned It off and sat Inbetween the two boys “heyy I was about to beat soobin hyung” kai frowned “yah why are you so grumpy today” soobin side eyed him “its nothing..” gyu responded and sat up from the couch and went to his bedroom.

-

another day passes by and you and chaewon are together spending time at the arcade just chatting and playing some games, you havent chatted gyu ever since that night because of how scared you were for him to find out you have a crush on him.

“oh btw y/n I invited kazuha we havent seen her in so long and apparently shes taking a 1 week vacay here” chaewon was excited to see your guys friend that you havent seen from since she left the country.

“holy shit zuha Is taking a vacation here?!?!? why didn’t you tell me earlier!!” you were suprised as you saw kazuha enter the arcade from the entrance, you ran towards her so fast and engulfed her in your arms “zuhaaa you never told me you came heree you dont know how much i missed you” “im still here yk” chaewon pouted and crossed her arms looking at you

kazuha chuckles “I wanted it to be a suprise for you two, what are we waiting for? enough about me being here i still have to make it up to you two since i havent spent time with you guys ever since” she frowned as you and chaewon gave her a hug.

-

“taehyun you promised me your gonna win me a plushie from the claw machine right” kai giggled looking at tyun “yeah yeah whatever” taehyun responded.

“hey gyu isnt that y/n over there?” yeonjun looked at beomgyu, beomgyus gaze was on you. “be right back guys” he said and ran towards you but he overheard your convo with your friends.

“hey y/n have you and that guy bestfriend youve been friends for like what 5 years? what was his name..? oh beomgyu! have you two ever dated yet? you two were stuck together like glue.” kazuha asked you

you coughed “what? oh beomgyu! hes just a friend”

“friend, friend, friend”

was all that gyu heard from that convo, he immediately left and went to his friends and told them that he wasnt in the mood to play arcade games with them so he left early.

“why does it have to be the girl i like to friend zone me like that” gyu sighed as he slumped on his bed just thinking about you “agh fuck this is embarrassing beomgyu get yourself together” he murmured to himself.

-

same old day just beomgyu sitting on the couch with taehyun on his left and soobin on his right, “do you guys know if y/n likes anyone by any chance..” gyu asked “lol no.” soobin responded “wow thanks soobin” beomgyu scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“if i do remember her friend chaewon told me she liked someone but im just not sure who” taehyun said as he scrolled on his phone “did i hear gyu having a crush?” yeonjun teased.

“it just..pisses me off how she hasnt talked to me for 2days and now shes telling her friends that im just a friend to her..” he sighed laying his head back on the header of the couch “wait wait y/n friendzoning you?” kai chuckled “shes just saying that chaewon told me about it.”

“told you about what?” he says.

“that she likes you duhh” kai responded “come on gyu you needa step up your game its so obvious she likes you because of how shes ghosting you and saying your just a friend cause shes hiding the fact she likes you!?” kai chuckles looking at how dumbfounded beomgyu looked “OoOoo~ beomgyus inlove~” soobin and yeonjun teased him about it “shut up.” was gyus response.

beomgyu got up from the couch and went into his room opening the messages app from his phone and texted you.

“wanna meet up..? my treat :)” he sends the send button as he waits for your reply.

*buzz buzz*

his phone vibrated from your notification. “sure! what time??” you replied to his text msg “right now maybe?” gyu replied.

he got up from his bed and immediately grabbed his shoes and slipped them on and rushed out the door. “whats up with him?” taehyun said “inlove for sure” soobin added.

-

as he got In his car, he drove to your place and parked his car right infront of your house, as he gets out of the driver seat he goes up to your door *knock knock*

“coming!!” you rushed downstairs and answer the door to see beomgyu on your doorstep “hey uhm havent seen you in awhile whats the occasion for the hang out?” you smiled.

“just something i have something to tell you” gyu chuckled nervously as he opened the car door for the passenger seat for you.

you two went on a city night drive with snooze by sza playing on the radio everything was going chill and calm until gyu stopped at a park. “were here” he smiled and got out of the car to open the car door to the passenger seat.

- you two sat on a bench, silence filling up the air. “so..what were you gonna talk about?” you said breaking the silence “i’ve just been thinking..for the past few days you’ve been ignoring me and avoiding texting me which i kinda hated not gonna lie” “he giggled “but during those days I honestly realized i couldnt be myself without you talking to me for 2days i know call me dramatic but i cant live without talking to you y/n” he frowned, you honestly didnt know how to react about it.

“im sorry i havent talked to you..I- just was feeling things that i felt that was wrong i mean- ugh fuck am i really about to say this?, Im confused about my feelings gy-“ “I like you too dummy.” He responded before you could finish your sentence. you just sat there looking at him “dont look at me like that its true” he giggled “fine i admit it I like you- actually no I love you” you finally said it and oh how you felt so relieved to let those words slip out of your mouth knowing your best friend beomgyu felt the same way as you did.

“so if I like you and you like me..does that mean we’re a couple or?” gyu said as you just laughed “yes. yes gyu i would gladly be your girlfriend” you smiled at him as you gave a kiss on his cheek making his heart flutter.”

“well im glad because I love you too” he responded and kissed you, you felt a wave of shock from it and didnt know how to explain it but your lips just melted with his, his lips were soft and plush on yours. “Im so glad your mine now.” He whispered.

a/n: PHEEEEWWW I finally finished this my hands are lowkey sweating rn but I hope you guys enjoy this 🥹 I might make extra beomgyu bf texts for this later so ^^

heres sum extra gyu content added onto this ff I did!!

bf!gyu texts

[icarryitin]

Episode 22: Comeback Kid

spencer reid/gn!reader

and if i’ve also come back from the dead (purely out of guilt for missing last week)??? what then??

series masterlist

word count: 1.2k // warnings: a few swear words i think, grief, discussions re emily’s ‘death’, it’s not specifically referenced but you could read reader’s reaction as a panic attack

summary - Turns out the dead do walk amongst the living, not that anyone thought to tell you.

You’re pretty sure you’re going to be sick. Which would be a shame, because these are new shoes. And they’re cute, even if they still pinch your toes a little, that and you’d rather not vomit in front of everyone else. Though, they all look just as green as you feel.

Emily Prentiss is dead.

You know this.

Because you collapsed when you saw them carrying her out of the warehouse, the fresh scars on your knees where they split open on the concrete prove it. Because she never came out of the hospital. Because you went to her funeral, to her wake. Because you barely held back your tears as you shook her mother’s hand, and stammered through an apology for her loss. Because the person you trust most in this world retreated so far into himself, so far away from you, that you spent weeks worrying he’d never come back. You’ve only just stopped having nightmares. Of warehouses, red and blue lights, Morgan’s bloodied hands. You’re still getting back into the swing of things - Spencer cracked his first smile in months only last week.

You know this. And yet, there she is. Standing in front of you as if no time has passed, as if you’re supposed to just forget all of that. Your eyes peel themselves away from Emily in the doorway to find Hotch, to search for any indication of how you’re supposed to react. Except he’s not shocked, he’s apprehensive. He knew - he fucking knew. There’s a rational part of your brain that isn’t surprised, there’s very little that happens on this earth that Aaron Hotchner isn’t privy to. But you don’t expect JJ to have the same nervous look on her face. JJ, the one who told you all that Emily hadn’t made it. Who looked her own team, her own family, in the face and lied to you. They both did; for safety, for security. Sure. It still hurts like hell.

Spencer’s hand tenses in the corner of your eye, knuckles white where he grips the back of the chair he stands behind. You’re afraid to look closer. To see him pull back again, from everyone this time, maybe for good. Your own hands shake where they wring themselves in front of you - that’s where you choose to focus your gaze. You don’t want to watch Penelope cry in Emily’s arms, you don’t want to see everybody else forgive and forget. You don’t want to look at her just yet.

You’re not ready.

But then there are warm hands around yours, and you can’t delay it any more. God, you want to stay mad. You want to be aloof and cold and stubborn - but she’s back, and isn’t that what you’ve wanted for the last however many months?

Emily’s grip on your clasped hands is so gentle it threatens to break your resolve. You’re holding strong, averting your eyes to the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.

“Breathe.”

That’s what gets you.

It’s not the first time Emily Prentiss has held your hands in hers and reminded you to take a breath - it drags you right back into a younger version of yourself, just as distraught, just as tense. Her calm, even tone shatters you the same way it did back then. She catches you the same way too, squeezes you so tightly it hurts. You’re not any lighter in your grip around her shoulders. The familiarity of it is painful, almost as painful as it is to watch Spencer take half a step back when she pulls away from you to approach him. Her disappointment at his rejection is clear on her face, although it disappears as quickly as it came - schooled into a tight-eyed smile instead. She’s not angry at him, you don’t think, she understands the hesitation.

It’s like an itch you can’t reach from the word go. Hyper-aware of every movement you make, every twitch from your teammates, every breath. The hammer will fall eventually, and the longer it takes the more mess it’ll make. It’s fairly easy, given the stakes, to skirt around Emily’s return for the time being - although it looms like a thundercloud. And then Ian Doyle is dead, and there’s no avoiding it anymore.

Spencer is the first one to leave the office, unsurprisingly. You’re next, only a minute later, the churning in your stomach far too strong to ignore. Now that there’s no case to distract you? Your anger is starting to build, it wouldn’t be fair to let everyone get swept up in the shockwave of it. The rational part of your brain knows that it was a necessary evil - that Hotch and JJ keeping this from you was for the safety of Emily and the team. The less rational part wants to throw a tantrum like a toddler. And if you don’t take the time to get yourself together, the toddler will win.

You’re sure Spencer had the same idea, when you exit the building to find him kicking stray pebbles back into the gravel surrounding the paving stones. So you don’t say anything as you pass, you leave him to his stewing. He doesn’t extend you the same courtesy.

“Where do you land on this?” His eyes are wide, earnest, he’s genuinely curious. He’s not looking for an argument or an excuse to rant about it all, he’s unsure.

“I feel sick,” You can’t be anything but honest, “I know why they did it, but I don’t have to like it.”

Spencer says nothing, just looks back at the pebbles on the ground.

“Neither do you.” You double down - he gives reassurance so freely, but so rarely asks for it himself. He’s allowed to feel whichever way he wants for however long he wants to feel it, you’re sure Emily would say the same. Though he only shrugs when you tell him so.

There’s not a lot anyone could say to dig him out of the hole he’s sinking back into, but you’re stubborn when it comes to your friends. Spencer, a little more so maybe than the others. He’d do it for you. The offer of pizza, via the library that stays open late, is enough to raise his head from the pebbles by his shoes.

A book, dinner, and absolutely no expectation of conversation. You’re not all that up to talking things over either, parallel dissociation in a public space might just be exactly what the doctor ordered. Pun half-intended. It doesn’t quite tug a smile out of him, though you’re not expecting it to. His careful footsteps on the pavement, just behind yours, are a comfort. He’s not pulling away like before.

Whether or not Spencer will ever address that is a different question - those weeks where he barely existed to himself, let alone anybody else. Much less you, who would have unraveled his careful shield of apathy with one look. It had been better, safer, to pull back entirely. He’d put it all on JJ, and she’d known the whole time. There’s a wave of fresh anger that crests in his chest when he remembers. The fury dulls the further you lead him away from the building, further into town, towards the safety of bookshelves and cheap Italian food. He wants to apologise for it all, but words fail him. They do more often than not when it comes to you, a superpower you seem to use for evil whether you know it or not. But tonight, he’ll take it. The silence. Because it’ll all be there in the morning, all the complicated feelings and confusion, he doesn’t have to say a single thing for the rest of the night if he doesn’t want to.

For now, he can rest with you.

i didn’t know how to wrap this one up and it SHOWS wow😬😬 i may or may not come back to revisit this…

[thyras]

→ a gift

PAIRING → halbrand (sauron) x f!númenórean!reader

WORD COUNT → 1.7k words

WARNINGS → flirting, gifts, manipulation, just reader trying to fight the darkness she is slowly succumbing to 🤭

SUMMARY → reader has a meeting with Queen Míriel, Galadriel, and Halbrand about the future of the Southlands, and reader is bestowed a fine gift.

FIC MASTERLIST → NEXT PART

The throbbing in your head subsided as you sat up in your crisp sheets. The tolling of the morning bell sounded through your chamber. Your head turned to see that the window had been cracked open, and the salty air flowed in. You rubbed your eyes and tried to smear the sleep off your face.

For the first time in a long time, your nights were not sleepless and only filled with the gentle quiet of the rolling ocean. You could not help but smile as the sun started peaking through the window, its rays reflecting off the tiny droplets of dew forming on the window sill. Your mind pulled at them, and to your surprise, they lifted off the window sill much like they would when you were younger, creating beautiful sun-catchers for you to twist and mold for your mother's enjoyment.

Letting out the deeply rooted magicks again felt good—almost freeing. Like in the old days, the tantalizing taste of freedom surged through your veins as you molded rivers and streams against their new banks. The power was so intoxicating that even now, you could taste the freshness of the water on your tongue and feel the sun's heat on your skin as a light breeze rippled your strands.

But as soon you lifted the droplets enough, a knock was on your door. The droplets fell to the floor, and you quickly gathered your skirt up and scrambled out of bed towards the door. You reached the door and opened it to find a fellow maiden.

"My lady, the Queen wishes to speak with you," you nod.

"Let me dress, and I will be there momentarily." The maiden nodded and backed away from the door before you reached your chest and grabbed your gown and robes. Your eyes returned to the droplets of dew lying on the tiles just before the window. A smile crept up on your lips as your fingers touched the blue jewel around your neck.

There was something freeing about finally not being the only person burdened by carrying this secret anymore. Your shackles felt loosened, and you could breathe easier again, knowing the shadows appeared to be gone.

You dressed quickly and moved with haste as you and the other maiden made your way into the upper conference room. There, you were met with guards positioned at the entrance. You nodded to them and they parted.

Three figures stood at the map table, Míriel at the head, Galadriel to her left, and, to your mild surprise, Halbrand. You were unaware he still wanted to give counsel to the queen. His dark green eyes sparkled slightly when he saw you. The thoughts of last night were probably still on his mind.

You had wanted to lose yourself in him, in his dark, fiery scent. Feel his hands on your ignited skin as he buried himself in you, taking you and ravaging you. But he had been a kingly man and took utter care in not prolonging your kiss, respecting this virtuous facade you had masked yourself with.

When you were all but virtuous.

Míriel greeted you, bringing you out of your less-than-innocent thoughts. You bowed slightly to her in response before making your way over to the table.

"You called for me, my Queen," You glanced at the other two briefly. Galadriel looked warily at you. Suspicion crossed her face as you placed your fingers on the table. She did not understand why a mere maiden would be summoned to a meeting about battle plans.

"Yes, how would you feel about returning to Middle-Earth with me?" You feel your face prickle in surprise as you take in Míriel's words. "I may require a maiden with your skill set." You swallowed hard and looked at Galadriel in your periphery, her brow raised in question.

"I am at your behest, my queen," you bow your head again. Over the centuries, you had to learn how to protect yourself without using those magicks you shoved down in protection. You became proficient with a blade and became quite the swordswoman. The skills Míriel was talking about.

"Good. We leave in two days," she said softly as another maiden entered the room.

"My lady, your father wishes to see you in the tower." Míriel nodded and took her leave as you, Halbrand, and Galadriel remained. Your pulse quickened as the silence grew until Halbrand spoke, his voice aimed at Galadriel, but you tuned him out as your mind grew heavy.

You had left Middle-Earth years ago, never to return when you could finally get transport here to Númenor, where you wished to settle and learn more about your mother's family. But you found yourself so enamored with this place that you decided to make it your home, traveling every hundred years. Start a new life with a new identity, as if not to raise suspicion of your heritage. It had been a somber life until you got your present position in Míriel's service.

You had purpose again. One you had believed you would never find again.

"Lady..." Galadriel said softly, breaking you out of your thoughts as you turned your head to her. "You should join me as I look over the troops and give my counsel on fighting Orcs today so I can see if you are up to the challenge."

"Yes, of course, I would be glad, too." You looked at Halbrand, who was watching you closely, as a smile rose from your lips.

"Would you like to join us?" A thin smile rose on his lips; his earlier foul mood was gone as you met his gaze. He inclined his head to you.

"I would be honored, but before that, could I borrow you for a moment."

"Of course," You said as you felt Galadriel's searing gaze on you. Halbrand motioned for you to follow him, and you accepted the invitation.

You both had a pleasant enough conversation as you walked from the palace toward where he was taking you. He was rather interested in how you spent so many years without being tempted to use your divine gifts. You happily answered his questions. However, as you both ended up at a blacksmith's shop, you could not help but look up at it with confusion.

"I hope you do not plan for me to advise you on a craft I know nothing about." A playful smile filled his lips, and he shook his head before moving to grab a cloth-wrapped object underneath the table.

"I would not ask a mere queen's maiden on something such as this." He motioned to the long, cloth-covered object as he softly sat it on the table. "Though I think the owner would not be pleased for me using materials without asking, but I got inspired." Your brow raised as you made your way over to the table.

"Inspired how?" You asked, raising your brow at him.

"I was thinking about what you said about your background. While on that raft, I met with a sea serpent and its strength. It sunk my ship, and I could not help but feel the irony of meeting you." Your face warmed against his words. He motioned to the cloth, and you moved over, taking the fabric into your finger and unwrapping the object.

What you were met with could not be put into words. A blade fit for a woman's hand. It's silver, vibrant, and bright against the afternoon light. Your eyes traveled down to the fuller to see the sea serpent engraved there, a finger traced across it, and a smile filled your lips at the craftsmanship.

The hilt was equally as beautiful. It was wrapped with gold and silver ores twined and twisted to create the grip. The end of the hilt held a similar blue jewel, much like the one that hung around your neck.

You were utterly lost for words at the beauty of the blade. "Lingwilókë," his silvery tongue released in Quenya.

"Sea-Serpent," You looked up at him in surprise. Your times among the elves on the western shores had given you a firm grip on the language. His eyes darkened, and he nodded.

"Go on," He motioned for you to take it. Your hand moved to hover over the hilt. Anticipation nearly took over you, but that suspicion that had saved you for many years rang out. A tingle filled your fingertips as you felt the dark shadows of your past rise on your spine.

It ran its claws across your shoulders before whispering in your ear softly, tempting you to grab the blade into your fingers. It tasted good, just like how his kiss had tasted—the soft yet primal kiss that he gave you underneath those stars, the feeling of his hand caressing her chin, thumb running across your bottom lip as he gave you a dark smile.

Your fingers finally gripped the blade, and you felt the darkness sigh in relief that seemed almost completely satisfied by the fact that you had given in to that desire to feel the beautiful blade underneath your fingertips.

You held it up to the light and twisted the blade. It was light; clearly, he knew how to craft weapons for a woman properly. You stepped out of his way and twisted the sword in a few movements to see how it felt. Electrifying was enough of a descriptor for how it felt to feel the blade in your fingers.

"It's a beautiful blade," you said, laying it in your fingers and trying to return it to him. "Fit for a queen," Halbrand held up his hand to stop your movements. You raised your brow at him, clearly concerned that you were trying to hand him the blade.

"It's yours," You swallowed hard and looked down at the sword in your fingers. "Forged for a woman with the ferocity of that sea serpent that attacked me." He paused, looked down, and chuckled to himself. "Call it a gift,"

Your heart clenched, and your face warmed as his eyes darkened. That smile rose on his lips as he strode over to you. His hand gripped your chin, and you could feel words trying to leave his lips, but that black shadow took this chance to return, its words wrapping around your ear like the sweetest of liquors.

Fit for my queen.

[moonstruckme]

Hi my love!! I just reread your bodyguard tasm!peter parker blurb and it was so cute 😭I loved the original premise where peters spider senses got distracted because of her!! You wrote it so beautifully.

I'd love to request a part two (If you're open to that?) where he's guarding her again and we see their relationship develop a little more??

i read your requests rules and couldn't find anything about you not writing part twos, but feel free to ignore if you'd rather not! lots of love <3 <3

Hi sweetheart, thank you thank you!!

bodyguard!(tasm)Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter’s staying on the ground for your sake, but he doesn’t love it. 

You’re relaxed as can be, lounging on your bed while he paces your unfairly giant room from end to end. This, he thinks, is why people hate politicians. You’ve got an ensuite bathroom the size of his apartment, and on the taxpayer’s dime. He gets it now. If you and your dad were living in a shoebox like every other self-respecting New Yorker, maybe the guy wouldn’t get so many death threats. 

“You don’t have to be all vigilant,” you say. “My dad’s not here. So long as I don’t get actually kidnapped or killed while you’re here, sitting down isn’t going to affect your performance evaluation.” 

Peter looks at you. “I’m getting a performance evaluation?” 

Your smile is lopsided and goofy. It’s humiliating how much it affects him. “No. Who would he send it to? Your employer?” 

“Oh.” He feels stupid. “Good point.” 

“Come here,” you laugh. “I got us coffee.” 

He goes to sit on your bed, mostly because he’ll do anything you ask him to. After spending a few hours hugging you on a roof, Peter’s found that he actually likes you. You’re not snooty or spoiled like he might have expected, friendly to him even though he’s technically working for you. You seem oddly down-to-earth for someone with your upbringing, funny and smart. (Smarter than him, maybe. You turn him into a blundering idiot every time he sees you, though, so it’s hard to say.) You’re surprisingly fun to be around. 

You lean over, grabbing two disposable coffee cups from your nightstand. “Do you want peppermint or caramel?” 

“Which one do you want?” 

“No way. You’re my guest, you get first pick.” 

Peter’s here on a job, but he likes your version of the story better. That you’d think of him as your guest, someone invited in whom you want to please, makes an affectionate warmth unfurl in his gut. 

“You should probably have the one you want, because the other one’s going to get cold,” he says, an apology in his tone. Your brows wrinkle. “I can’t really drink through the mask…” 

“Oh.” You close your eyes, expression clearing. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about that.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Peter’s smiling under the mask. He wonders if you can hear it in his voice. “Enjoy yours. I’ll live vicariously.” 

“You couldn’t just lift it up enough to drink?” 

“Uh, no. The whole secret identity thing is…kind of important to the job.” 

You smile guiltily, lifting one of the cups to your lips. “Fair enough.” 

You’re silent for a minute, watching him as you sip at your coffee. Once again, making it nearly impossible for Peter to do what he’s being paid to do. He should be keeping his senses alert, watching the windows, surveilling the perimeter or whatever. Not looking into your clever, narrowed eyes and thinking about how your whole room smells like you. 

“Okay,” you say, still scrutinizing him like you’re trying to count the threads in his suit, “now I’m dying to know what’s under the mask.” 

Peter sits very still. He’s had people—fans and foes alike—try to tear it off him before, but he doesn’t think you’re like that. 

“I mean, obviously you’re tall,” you lean back on the bed, mouth pursed in contemplation, “so you’re not, like, twelve. You sound about my age…” 

“I what?” 

“Your voice.” 

“What—” He clears his throat. Tries to sound more generationally ambiguous. “What would make you think that?” 

You crack another one of those sweet, silly smiles. “Well, you’re not going to fool me now,” you say. “I’ve heard you talk. You can’t be more than thirty. Plus, when you got here, you said ‘yo’.” 

Peter really needs to stop saying that. He doesn’t even know when he started. 

“You’ve got stitches all over your suit…” you go on. “What neighborhood are you from again?” 

“I’m not telling you that,” he laughs. 

“Oh, come on.” You scooch a little on the bed, tucking one leg under you to face him more fully. Your eyes pierce his like knives. Very pretty knives. “There’s almost ten million people in New York. You really think I’m going to track you down?” 

“Your dad is the mayor…” 

“Stop.” You give his shoulder a playful shove. Peter’s mask feels suddenly warm. “Those surveillance rumors weren’t true, the tabloids made that up to mess with his re-election campaign.”

“Okay, okay. I’m from Queens.” 

You lean back on your hands, and he can’t decide if the way you’re looking at him is analyzing or flirting. “Interesting,” you say slowly. “So you’re, like, a real man of the people. Not the Bruce Wayne type.” 

“Hey,” he teases, “Bruce Wayne could’ve lived in Queens. It’s nice.” 

“But Bruce Wayne wouldn’t have to sew his own suits,” you point out. 

Peter tilts his head, blows a breath out the side of his mouth. You’ve got him there. 

“And you’re tall, clearly pretty strong, you seem smart…” You nod, seeming to have come to a decision. “I think you’re handsome under there.” 

A laugh startles out of him. He hopes it sounds casual, like it came from someone cool, whose heart isn’t galloping in his chest. Peter really shouldn’t care if you think he has the potential to be handsome under his mask. It’s not like you’ll ever find out. Still, it feels weirdly nice. 

He makes his voice light and playful. “Well, it’s good to have your approval. Now we can pretend that I’m almost in your league.” 

For the first time since he’s gotten here, you look genuinely caught offguard. “Me?” 

“Yeah, you.” Peter grins. It feels good to have flustered you. He’s missed doing that. “Who else?” 

You look away from him as you laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you say, “but you’re a superhero. You’re not the one who should be worried about leagues.” 

You’re cute. Peter makes a bold move, scooting an inch closer to you, into your space. He’s glad you can’t see that under the mask, his face is just as flushed as yours. “I’m not a superhero,” he says, keeping his voice light as meringue. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” 

You roll your eyes. “Humble, too. Points in your favor.” 

A laugh rumbles through his chest. Someday, he’s gonna have to get Peter Parker in your orbit somehow. He wants to meet you—more than that, he wants you to meet him. He’s not sure how long he can wait. 

He decides to let you off the hook. Slightly. He reaches across you, taking the unused cup from your nightstand. “Thanks for this,” he says. “Once you don’t need me here anymore, I’m gonna take it home and heat it back up.” He grins even though you can’t see it. “Maybe I’ll swing by and return the favor sometime.”

[redheadspark]

Hawuuuu can I request 8. thinking of their s/o's needs before their own with Druig

A/N - HAWUU! I think this is great for Druig, thanks for requesting this, friend!

Darlin'

Summary - Druig tends to you after the near Emergence

Warnings - a mix of angst and fluff together :)

You heard a gentle rap of knuckle on your door, having you perk your head up and hear the door open very slightly.  

“Come I come in?”

You knew the voice far too well, having you slightly smile though squint in pain from the soreness in your ribs.  

“Yes,” was the only thing you could muster, seeing Druig poke his head in and see the sight of you. You were curled up under one of Ajak’s massive quilts in her spare room, the window still shut with the sun rays peering through the bright linen curtains that were over the windows.  Although you were grateful you were alive, a lot thanks to Ikaris and the massive fight that broke out on the beach hours before, you were in a lot of pain.  You took a heavy beating from the fight, Ikaris knowing you were a fierce fighter and you two squared off for a few long moments.  Ikaris was just as strong as you were, but in the end, he got a few good licks in and you were covered in bruises and scabs because of him.  In the end, you all saved the work but lost some friends along the way including Ajak and Gilgamesh.  Now you all were resting and healing at Ajak’s old farm in South Dakota, the quiet open field seemed to be a bit haunting as you were still licking your wounds and trying to gain your strength again. 

Druig, though hurt himself thanks to Ikaris and his personal vendetta against the Mind Controller, was still worried about you and how you were holding up.  You two have been lovers for centuries, staying together through the thick and thin of life.  You two never once left each other’s side since you two got together so long ago, and to think for a split moment that he was going to be taken from you placed you in such a fragile mindset.  You had no idea that Druig was thinking the same, that he too was beyond petrified of losing you and being on Earth without you there.  

“Darlin’,” he said in worry, coming in with a tray filled with medicine and snacks. He immediately placed the tray on the dresser by the door, closing the door within a second to give you two privacy as he glided over to you and sat next to you on the bed.  Carefully, he pulled the quilt down, seeing your body was still etched in bruises and scabs under your thin shirt and sweatpants, “What hurts?”

“It’s not as bad as before,” You reassured him In a breath, though Druig could hear it in your tone that you were still in some pain.  You were about to get up, possibly to stretch out your back, but Druig placed his hands on your arms to usher you back onto the bed, “Sweetheart, I’m fine—“

“You don’t look it,” He mumbled, his blue eyes scanning your wounds and you could see the pain there. Both were protective of one another, far too protective which seemed strange since you both were powerful Eternals that could defend yourselves.  Still, you both looked out for one another and to see you now still in pain brought Druig pain. 

He hummed, reached over to push the hair out of your eyes as you smiled fondly at him, “Although I hate seein’ you like this, you are still as beautiful as I day I saw ya for the first time on the Domo,”

“Sap,” You hummed as you were flushed in your cheeks, seeing him crack a grin finally and then look over at the tray he abandoned earlier. You raised a brow at him, “What did you get?”

“Oh!” Druig said, moving away from you and walking back to the tray instantly. You watched in intrigue as he held the tray carefully in his two hands and walked back over to where you were. Perching himself on the side of the bed with the tray placed in his lap, you finally saw what he had.

Medicine and aspirin, some gauze that was still wrapped in a tight ball, an ointment container, and a few snacks.  But you saw that they were hearty snacks: nuts and some fruits as well.  You realized that they were your favorite snacks and fruits, making your eyes mist as Druig tapped the tray with his thumbs nervously.

“Phastos told me which medicine to get ya to make ya feel better,” Druig explained, sounding a bit nervous, “And Ajak had some fruit in her fridge that didn’t go bad yet—“

“Honey,” You breathed, reaching her to place your hand on his.  Your scarred hands on top of his porcelain ones, such a contrast, and how Druig’s eyes instantly locked in yours.  You saw love in his eyes, the love that he would pour into you every day and with every ounce of himself. No matter when he had a rough day or was exhausted working in the village from sunrise to sunset, he made sure to always show you he loved you. He was a giver, knowing what you needed before you knew it yourself.  It was a trait that no one else saw, not even Makkari or Ajak.

“I love you,” You said to him, seeing the love pour over him on his face and in how he breathed out a long exhale.  Like he was holding it in and finally able to let the weight on his shoulders go.  He placed the tray on the side and leaned over, pressing his head to yours and kissing your cheeks soundly and then your lips. He was soft with you when no one else was around, and he wanted it that way. With the rest of the world carrying on, your own little world together was all he ever wanted or craved.

“I love you more than life,” he breathed as he cradled your face in his palms, “I’m so fucking glad you’re here with me,”  

“Me too, sweetheart,” you agreed, letting him nuzzle his nose against yours and breathe you in to recenter himself again.  You both have been through so much, too much for two people in love to endure.  But in the end, you both maddest out alive with a future ahead of you.  But you weren’t thinking about the future, you were only thinking about the boy who was loving you in that bed, who was tending to you like you were the only person on the planet.

The boy who considered you his equal, if not more than.

The End

May Prompt Session

[lets-try-some-writing]

Anon angst! May I request some Smokescreen being a prime angst? More likely, what would the team think that Smokescreen is the new prime and OP's death? :3

Anon, you know EXACTLY what to ask me for. *cracks knuckles*

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Optimus's vitals were completely untraceable. That could have meant he had been offline since the blast from the Nemesis or that he was hiding somewhere. Logically, Ratchet was inclined to believe in the former of the two scenarios. No mech, not even a Prime, could walk away from such devastation unscathed. Even Prima himself fell before the might of enough blasters and bolter shells.

Even still, the small hope that Optimus still lived kept Ratchet moving. There was no body yet. There was no Matrix. No confirmation that his Prime was gone. There was still time, and while there was still time, Megatron had to be stopped. His rulership of Earth could not be allowed to continue.

And so Ratchet handled the groundbridge while the team and Ultra Magnus went to war. Smokescreen was unaccounted for, but his groundbridge had also been rather unstable. His signal was, much like Optimus's, similarly untraceable. The rookie was too energetic to die. Yet another reason Ratchet wanted to believe that Optimus was still functioning, if only in some dark hole in the ground. He had to believe in something, and so he believed in his Prime as he guided the team in their work.

The battle began to spiral quickly. Their numbers were too few and even with Ratchet and Rafael throwing themselves into coordination, there was little that could be done. Their hope was dwindling, and as it did so, Ratchet found himself praying to a god that may or may not have even been real, begging for Optimus to again rise from the ash and smoke as he had done countless times before.

"Ratchet! Look!" Rafael pointed to the screen frantically, and within moments, Ratchet was speaking to the entire team with disbelief and fearful hope.

"It's an Autobot signal, but its... airborne." The signal was strange and largely unrecognizable. It had no ID attached, but its size specs fell well within Optimus's range. With Ultra Magnus fighting for his life, Ratchet could only come to the conclusion that his Prime had, again, somehow wormed his way out of death.

He smiled and his spark sang as he watched the signal. He had no video feed of the events playing out, but he could hear the sounds of exclamation from the team. He could hear Optimus's weapons firing through the team's open comm links and he could hear Megatron's scream of rage. Optimus was back. He was alive-

"Soldier... what is your designation?" Ultra Magnus's voice broke through the blur of joy and relief that flooded Ratchet's mind as the battle drew to a close and the team gathered to begin the trip back. The children sat a little closer to the screen, watching the Autobot signals clumped together as they listened to the audio coming through.

Did Ultra Magnus really not recognize his brother in arms after so long? Perhaps time and the damage from the blast were merely making things difficult for him to see-

"Nebulous Prime. The inheritor of the title Last of the Primes." The voice that came through the link was deep and baritone just like Optimus's. But there was a youthful lightness to it, a sweetness and silky sound that came from those who had not yet spent millennia screaming orders on the battlefield. There was no rattle or gruffness to his tone, whoever this Nebulous might be.

Ice cold fear shot into Ratchet's spark as he fell silent. He stopped listening to the audio and paced frantically as he waited for the team to arrive. It couldn't be possible. This wasn't possible. Optimus ALWAYS came back. Even from the brink of death. There was no way there was a new Prime. This had to be a mistake.

Optimus would never die. Not to Megatron.

"Ratchet, I'm sorry." Arcee came forward first. She looked tired on a spark deep level. The rest of the team followed her as she entered the hangar that Ratchet had moved everything to. The children watched with nervous eyes, their gazes uncertain as Bumblebee stepped forward next. His doorwings were dipped and he merely shook his helm, dried coolant streaks staining his face. Bulkhead and Wheeljack were came after him. Neither were pleased and both seemed grim.

"What happened? Where is Optimus?" Desperation laced his voice, and he was sure he sounded a moment away from breaking down into tears. He frantically scanned each of the team, silently assessing their minor wounds while he searched for familiar red and blue paint. Ultra Magnus was the last to come forward, and he held himself with as much grace as was possible considering the damage he had sustained.

Ultra Magnus opened his intake to speak, but his vocalizer halted. He looked to the ground, seemingly trying to come up with the words he wanted to say. Ratchet shook ever so slightly, his usually steady servos twitching erratically as he fought against his growing fears. Optimus couldn't be gone. Not for good.

"Step aside Commander." The command echoed in the hangar, and everyone froze as a mech stepped in with imposing but soft pedesteps. He was tall, just as tall as Optimus, if not slightly shorter. He strode forward with grace that was unnatural, seemingly new to the mech as he focused on his steps. Most of his frame was obscured in shadow as he approached Ratchet and the team. But for the briefest of moments, Ratchet saw familiar blue optics cycling wide in greeting.

He almost believed his faulty vision. But then the mech stepped into the light, and Ratchet's entire world came crumbling down.

"I am Nebulous Prime... I am sorry that this is how we have to meet again." Blue, yellow, and white. The colors were wrong, the frame shape was wrong. The new and deadly weapons weren't of the right caliber. The doorwings now made flight capable were nothing like the smokestacks that Ratchet knew and familiarized himself with. The face that greeted him was too young, even with the new and very clearly Primely classical additions.

This was not Optimus. This was not his Prime.

"No... Optimus always comes back." His whispered denial echoed in the silent base. Ratchet could feel his systems heaving in panic and grief, and yet he was helpless to stop it as the Prime before him frowned in that all familiar and yet entirely new manner Ratchet found dooming above all else.

"Optimus Prime became one with the allspark roughly six hours ago. The damage he sustained was too great, and he refused to use the Forge of Solus Prime when I brought it to him." The mech who was once Smokescreen shifted on his pedes. He looked like Orion just after he returned from Primus's core. Uncertain and confused.

Ratchet could not find it in himself to have any sympathy.

"He told me to restore the Omega Lock and Cybertron." Nebulous spoke with a commanding air that even he seemed unsettled by. The team looked to him instinctually, watching his every word and action as they once did for Optimus. Ratchet merely seethed.

What had Smokescreen done to be worthy? What had he done to warrant his life being preserved over Optimus's?

"YOU SHOULD HAVE RESTORED HIM INSTEAD!" A venomous cry escaped him before he could stop it. His plating flared, his fists shook, and never more in his life did he wish he had a valid reason to strike a mech.

"Despite his shortcomings, he always found a way! He, WE would have found some way to fix the Omega Lock without the Forge!" Nebulous watched him with tired optics that were unfitting of his youth. He frowned and seemed to watch Ratchet with a vague sense of detachment. The team refused to meet Ratchet's gaze as he tried to vent.

"Cybertron and our people take priority over any one mech. Even if that mech is a Prime." Nebulous declared softly. Ratchet almost saw red as he reached up and grabbed the new Prime by his neck guard, forcing to Ratchet's level.

"That mech was YOUR PRIME!" He could feel coolant begin to gather in his optics. He ignored his blurring vision in favor of watching in hatred as Nebulous remained still.

"He led us through the darkness!" He remembered Orion Pax and how he had gathered armies to lead forth to war. He was still just an archivist. He was no warframe, and he had never raised a weapon with intention to kill. Despite his fears and insecurities, he guided them all the same.

"He fought until the bitter end against every foe!" He remembered Optimus Prime, fresh from Primus's core and unsteady on his pedes. He had been so full of life then. So eager to throw himself into combat in order to preserve even one more life. Optimus's frame had been covered in so many scars by the time they left their world.

"He deserved to see our home restored!" He remembered his Prime, the mech he had dutifully stood beside until the very end. Optimus didn't smile often anymore, but when he did, it was full of fond affection. They had been through everything together, and Ratchet had been of the belief that they would remain companions until the end.

Looking at Nebulous, he saw that familiar depth in the Prime's optics. But it was that wealth of hidden knowledge that left Ratchet reeling in the truth.

"He did. And if I could have changed things, I would have. I never wanted to be a Prime, but this is the burden that was given to me." Nebulous slowly removed Ratchet's servo and held it softly, kindly even. It was not how Optimus held his servo on those rare occasions where Ratchet's oldest friend felt the need to show his affection. Optimus liked to cling to one or two digits at a time, a soft brush that would not be noticeable to any watchers. Nebulous held his whole servo firmly, and yet with enough ease that Ratchet could easily break away.

"I am not Optimus. I do not have his skill or his experience. All I have are echoes of knowledge that I do not know how to find or apply." Meeting the new Prime's gaze, Ratchet's anger began to fade. In Nebulous's optics, there was indeed the knowledge of the Primes. But lingering in his optics was also fear. Primal and deep fear of the unknown just like Orion when he took on the mantle.

He looked so much like the scared archivist Ratchet had spent vorns upon vorns comforting as he grew into his station. It was painfully familiar, but also saddening. Just a cycle ago, Smokescreen had stood before him, eager and willing to jest and fight at a moment's notice. Now a terrified youngling held himself with as much strength as he was able, desperately trying to not show his terror.

"I am not used to this frame. I am not used to this weight on my mind and spark." He shifted on his pedes, and only then did Ratchet see the way his new wings dipped to the ground, a form of communication any mech could easily read as distress. Nebulous's kibble was heavy and while he had been reformed to handle the weight, his unused arm hung limply at his side. Guns and other weapons seemed to crush him.

He was used to speed, but now he was a proper weapon of war. Just as Optimus had changed, Nebulous would as well. Given time, his frame would continue to shift until the Matrix was settled. But until then, he would continue to carry weight that Optimus had been comfortable with, but Smokescreen likely never would find himself at ease with.

"I am not Optimus." A tremor rang out in Nebulous's voice. For a moment, he looked like Smokescreen again. He looked scared and lost without his idol to lead him. Ratchet wanted to be upset, but the longer he watched, the more he found himself easing into his new and unspoken role.

Nebulous was lost. He bore the burden well enough for now, but he was grieving and enduring the weight of the Primacy all at once. Ratchet could weep later, in private. For now, he had work to do.

"But I will finish what he started, if only to honor him." Nebulous looked defeated even with his proud statement. The team looked to him in concern and then to Ratchet for guidance. Ratchet was the eldest amongst them. They needed a leader.

"We will finish what he started." Nebulous startled, his optics wide and his wings perking up. He must have expected Ratchet to decide to leave or possibly defect.

Maybe he would have if Nebulous didn't look so much like Orion Pax. Maybe he would have joined Megatron in order to kill him from the inside.

But not now. Not when Optimus's legacy stood on the brink of collapse.

"We will end this war." He clasped Nebulous's servo and hastily schooled his expression. Optimus would be avenged. But in the meantime, Nebulous needed all the help he could get.

Just as Ratchet had been a friend to Optimus Prime, he would be a guide to Nebulous, the Last of the line of Primes.

[spikedsoul]

A Different Ending

(source: taka on twitter, 18+ only! seriously!)

here we are, the first of several writings for the 400-500 follower celebration! a new chapter of mwn is also coming out within the next day or so, followed with one more short and a request someone made ages ago!

Bowser heaved a deep, heartbroken sigh as he gazed down at the quiet piranha plant clutched between his claws; he was yet again sitting alone on a bench after a failed marriage attempt, which usually wasn't a big deal, but this one had stung much more than anything else in the past. He was in one of the most romantic places there was - behind a beautiful chapel on the fucking moon with the Earth twinkling in the sky above - dressed to the nines in a fancy white and purple tuxedo and his mane meticulously styled, as requested, and yet he still sat alone, which he'd been promised wouldn't happen. Or at least, he wasn't supposed to be sitting alone with only a broken promise for company.

Peach had lied to him.

Again.

He suddenly chucked the piranha plant away from him with a deep growl, his frustration with himself mounting as he watched the poor plant land on top of his discarded jacket. One day he needed to learn to just quit her entirely, and honestly this seemed like a fantastic last straw. The final offense to crack his shell.

She'd come to him so sweetly, as always. "Oh, Bowser, can you help me get Mario to chase me again? But this time let's make it a wedding!"

He'd thought she was mocking him at first until she went out of her way to get him a custom suit and everything. More than that, though, she swore up and down she'd give him something he'd always wanted - provided he knew it didn't mean she was suddenly changing her mind about him.

Bowser groaned and leaned forward on the bench, putting his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He was so fucking dumb! And now there was a chapel full of people thinking the worst of him, again, when really the whole scheme was Peach's idea.

He'd sold himself out for the promise of a kiss he was never going to get.

The only small solace he had was that she actually turned Mario down too when the idiot plumber had gotten a little too aggressive trying to give her flowers… but honestly, that didn’t help heal the rage beginning to bubble in his heart.

“Excuse me…”

Bowser’s head jerked up, his lip curled back over a fang to warn off whoever dared interrupt him - only to see you standing there, giving him a sympathetic, dare he think it, pitying smile. He recognized you from the few times you’d gotten caught up in some of the shenanigans between him and those plumbers.

He switched his snarl to a scowl rather quickly and looked away. “What.”

In his peripherals, he saw you point at the piranha flower bouquet; he braced himself for a teasing remark about the only things willing to sit near him being aggressive plants. He didn’t have a reason to suspect that from you, at all, but that didn’t stop him from assuming. It was suspicious enough you left the “reception” to walk around and find him.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” you asked softly.

He whipped his head around in surprise as he fixed his wary gaze on you. His brain thoroughly scrambled, he first nodded, then shook his head, and finally winced at himself.

“You - you can sit,” he finally managed, scooting over just a bit to make room for you.

You gave him a suspiciously warm smile and reached to pick up the bouquet so you could sit. You were so gentle that the quiet plants didn’t start snapping, even as you settled them back on your lap - and that was oddly intriguing to him. He shifted to face you a little more, his thick arm draping over the back of a bench as he forced a scowl.

“What do you want, woman?” he growled when you didn’t immediately speak.

You were quiet for a moment, focused on the ribbon on the bouquet, then looked up at him. “I’m sorry she did this to you.”

He inhaled sharply, his eyes going wide in surprise. His mouth fell open like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out even after a few tries. Just how much did you know?

You looked back down at the bouquet as you smiled again; there was something sad about it this time that made his stomach feel like it flipped over. His stunned silence clearly betrayed just how shocked he was that you know.

“I heard her talking about it when I visited the palace,” you explained softly. “She was actually sort of laughing about it. And then knowing she’s happy to let you take the fall, despite all this being her plan…” You shook your head, looking up at him again. “I just thought I’d come check on you.”

“Me–?!”

“Yes, you.” You didn’t give him time to say anything else before you cut him off with a resolute nod. “You’re the fall guy, always, but from the few times I’ve interacted with you, you don’t seem like such a terrible guy to me.”

He growled quietly, immediately on the defensive that anyone could possibly see him as decent… despite desperately wanting exactly that. But who even were you, exactly? Yes, he could read the little nametag pinned to your dress, and as he mulled it over in his mind, he could remember Greenie and Red Idiot calling you that several times. But who were you to them? And how in the hell did you end up involved in their shit sometimes?

“What are you to them?” he demanded. Instead of flinching at either the growl or his demand, you just smiled a little bit, catching him off guard, and he blinked.

“The brothers, I assume you mean. I’m supposed to be their secretary for their plumbing business, but it seems like I get dragged into unwanted adventures by sheer association with them… and their shop has been closed since the last time a certain someone decided to try and raid it.” You raised both of your eyebrows at him in an unimpressed manner, clearly indicating his recent attempt to kidnap one of the brothers directly.

Bowser rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, pouting a bit. He… sort of liked how you were so boldly challenging him, if  he was honest. You weren’t being abrasive about it, but you were letting him know that you honestly weren’t afraid of him.

“Look,” he muttered, “they just get on my fuckin’ nerves, okay? Didn’t mean to put you outta a job…”

“Well, I’m still getting paid, so it’s not such a big deal. Anyway, I also wanted to let you know that you look dashing in your tux… I’m not sure if anyone bothered to mention that, something else I think is a little unfair.” You sighed softly, like you really believed what you were telling him.

Maybe he could take advantage of the situation? Why not? He hadn’t self-sabotaged in fifteen minutes at least.

He pressed his lips together as he glanced back at you thoughtfully. You tilted your head to the side curiously, like an adorable, confused chain chomp pup.

Here went everything.

“Since you seem to be so concerned about me, li’l lady,” he started slowly, rubbing his chin in thought, “how ‘bout I take you out on a date, and I’ll tell you anything you’re curious about. How’s that sound?” He smirked a bit.

His smirk slowly faded as you seemed to actually consider his offer. After a moment or two, you smiled, stood, and gently set the bouquet back down in its spot. He watched as you stood in front of him; your hands came up to cup his cleft chin and his heart jumped at your gentle touch, his eyes widening at the bold move.

This wasn’t even remotely what he expected.

You smiled oh so sweetly at him, warm and inviting and completely unafraid. “Counter offer,” you murmured. He nodded dumbly. “I’m gonna go back inside, but if you follow me in I’ll call this a first date, and I’ll consider letting you take me on a second one.”

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t, too utterly shocked by this. You giggled softly when he didn’t respond.

“No pressure,” you said softly. “Not like you don’t know where to find me.” And then you made things a million times worse by kissing the side of his muzzle before promptly turning and strutting back toward the front of the chapel. His jaw dropped as he watched you go; behind him, his tail was wagging something fierce, knocking moon dust around.

That just happened. That really just happened, without him making a deal for it or anything. You willingly kissed him of your own volition. But now you were walking away…

Wait. No. You weren’t Peach - you had left the invitation open. He was letting you walk away.

…Was he fucking stupid?!

By the time he fully registered everything, you had disappeared around the front of the building. In an instant, he was on his feet and sprinting toward the front of the chapel in pursuit, skidding around the corner and bounding up the steps a few at a time. He ignored the stares he got from the few beings in the foyer, but it was hard to ignore the startled yelps from people when he rather violently slammed the door open with more strength than he meant to.

When he glanced around, all eyes were on him. “Uh… sorry,” he muttered. Maybe this had been a bad id–

“Bowser!”

His head whipped around shamefully fast at the sound of your bright voice and he locked his eyes on your smiling face at the far end of the chapel. For the first time in his life, he suddenly felt rather self conscious, but he slowly made his way toward you when you beckoned him over. His shoulders hunched, he held his arms close to his body, and his tail curled around his legs as he picked his way between the tables and guests; as he moved, though, a bashful smile settled on his maw, the tip of his tail flicking despite being wrapped around his leg.

You held your hand out to him when he got closer, smiling warmly at him. He was acutely aware of just how small your hand was compared to his as he took hold of it, but you didn’t look bothered in the least. In fact, there was genuine excitement in your eyes as you looked up at him. It made him duck his head in embarrassment.

“People are starin’,” he mumbled as he got himself sat beside you. His smile hadn’t faded, though.

“If I cared what people thought about me, you might never have met me,” you chuckled softly. “They can stare all they want; I’m delighted you decided to come join me.” You used your free hand to push a loaded plate of food at him, but he ignored it for now.

He gazed down at you; his tail slowly uncurled from his legs and began to sway a little behind him. “You really mean that, don’tcha,” he stated softly.

You nodded and your smile became softer, but more serious. “I do. Sometimes I’m a little too honest, but at least that means you’ll know I’m not lying to you. But I won’t just say mean things to be mean, either… just to clear that up.”

For the first time all day, Bowser chuckled. “I appreciate the honesty,” he rumbled. “This also means if you feel like things ain’t gonna work out that you’ll say somethin’, right?”

“Of course. Unlike some people-” you coughed softly and shot a glance toward a portrait of Princess Peach hanging near the altar “-I don’t enjoy playing with people’s feelings. Everyone deserves a chance, and I believe that firmly, but if it looks like we aren’t compatible long term I’ll say something.” You blushed a little as you finally took your hand back to start eating.

He laughed softly at the contemptuous look you’d sent Peach’s portrait. You really were something else, and though he wouldn’t mention it to you, he felt like already there was a sort of connection that he never had with Peach. He could easily see you turning out to be the one for him - but he wouldn’t hold his breath, just in case.

“I guess that means I’ll just have to enjoy every single moment with ya, just in case,” he purred smoothly, watching as your face reddened. Good, that meant he was back in his groove, and you were squarely in his sights.

To your credit, though, you kept your composure, sending him a sweet smile. “Well, aren’t you a smooth operator,” you chimed. “I kinda like that… confidence looks good on you.”

A shiver threatened to crawl up his spine, but luckily he managed to suppress it by the time it got to the base of his tail; he couldn’t stop the heat that rushed to his cheeks, unfortunately. Not only had you gone out of your way to check on him after this fucking catastrophe, but you also appreciated his lines and said it even suited him… he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect (given he’d only tried for Princess Peach before now) but he was starting to get pretty excited.

He leaned in closer to you with a quiet purr. “Well, how about we blow this joint and I’ll show you just how confident I can be, hm?”

You giggled softly in surprise, your face still flushed a lovely shade even as you tried to hide your fluster behind your hand.

“What, eager to get to date number two?” you teased.

“Or maybe I was hopin’ we could prolong date number one.”

You pursed your lips in thought as you regarded him, but after a few heart-pounding moments, you nodded, that beautiful, bashful smile never leaving you. “Alright, that actually sounds nice; did you have something in mind?”

What did he have in mind? Honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d expected you to agree so readily, despite all the signs you were genuinely interested in him. But he didn’t want to run you off already by being too aggressive or forward, or anything like that even though you just said you liked his confidence. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do something a little more lowkey this first time…

He pressed his lips together briefly in thought before a wide grin pulled his lips back. Of course! It was so simple!

“Well,” he hummed, “how ‘bout some sky gazin’? I know a nice little place ‘round the back of this chapel, once we’re done here… We could talk and get to know each other a bit more before the second date?”

You reached over with a warm smile, resting your hand on his forearm. “You know, I think that sounds lovely. It’ll be nice getting to know the real you, the ones most others don’t get to see.”

Bowser’s tail felt like it was about to break the confines of the little foldable chair, it was wagging so hard. His heart was already threatening to break the confines of his chest just from your willing touch, but the gentle rub that followed practically made him swoon. If you kissed his snout again he just might faint.

Briefly, his mind tried to convince him that this was all some sick joke - but his gut told him you really were being genuine.

People were staring, not snickering, and there hadn’t been anyone outside to see you be so sweet. Nor would there be anyone to witness the second half of this date.

“Do you wanna head out already?”

The sound of your voice had him blinking back into the present. He had enough presence of mind to reply, “Thought you were hungry?”

You chuckled softly, smiling up at him. “I’ve eaten a little bit. If I’m still hungry later, we can go get something, how’s that sound?” You rubbed his forearm again, though did take the chance to get another bite in.

He nodded too eagerly as he put way too much effort into standing up like a calm, collected adult, forced to hold his tail with one hand to keep it from knocking anything over due to his excitement. His other hand extended to you, palm up in an invitation.

“Shall we, beautiful?” he rumbled, smiling warmly at you.

You placed your hand in his, a quiet, pleased hum escaping you as you allowed him to help you to your feet. Your eyes met his, and in a soft but earnest voice, you replied, “Lead the way, handsome.”

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 7.2: Lando's First Time

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: Title feels explanatory enough

Warnings: talks of sex, Dom/Sub dynamics, no actual sex occurs, this is a crack fic, lots of communication, talks of kinks

Notes: the start of Lando and his chaos

Masterlist

When Lando woke up this morning, he didn't think that he'd be spending breakfeast talking with Max about Sex.

His cereal had gone soggy. The shock of it all making it difficult to eat.

The worst part was that this seemed so easy for him. Sure, he'd taught the female about most sexual things she knows now, and he'd been through this with Charles. But this was completely new to Lando, and he didn't like that it was so... casual.

"-Again, I know this is probably a lot and of you don't want to-."

"I want to." The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than he could think about them. He could actively feel the blush on his cheeks growing.

"Okay then." Max smiles. "Let me go grab something, and you should probably get new cereal."

Lando decided it would be better to just wait until after this talk.

~

Max came back into the room with a notebook, a green colored pen, and Charles. "I was going to give you orange, but it doesn't show up well enough for me to read."

"Is y/n still asleep?"

"No, she's eating and cuddling with the cats. These conversations tend to... not embarrass her, but it definitely puts her in a place I don't want her in."

The two join him on the couch. Lando just looks at them with pure confusion. Lost in what Max is attempting to tell him.

Thankfully, Charles explains. "She's a pleaser and is still learning how to set boundaries. She will say yes to everything even if she doesn't want to."

"Why on earth would she do that?" Lando grimaces at his words. That sounded meaner than he was intending. The older boys exchange a look, and Max shrugs his shoulders.

"Well mate, as you will come to find out, the overwhelming urge to be praised makes it difficult for her to say no." Charles finishes woth a wink.

Lando's mouth falls open in an 'O' shape. Suddenly, everything clicked.

They'd gotten themselves into a sexually charged situation. It could and, probably would, have gone further if Max hadn't stopped them.

He'd dragged Lando out and sat him down for a talk. It was at this point that Lando agreed to add his blood panel to their ever expanding collection of them. Lando also learned at this point that Max is in charge and he quite likes the Dutch telling him what to do.

He'd also had to trade places with Charles because the girl in the room where he'd been dragged from was crying. Charles didn't tell Lando why as he sat in what used to be Max's chair. Just that she was feeling insecure after watching Max pull Lando off of her.

He'd also taken the time to explain that he didn't do anything wrong. Max is just fiercely protective and knows she will push her limits.

Now he's sitting between Max in Charles with a green pen in hand, looking at a list.

The notebook was filled with different things regarding their sex life. Again, Lando could see his blood work had been added to the list at the front along with the other two.

"No blood work for her?"

"I'd be surprised if it came back normal. Also, I took her virginity, and Charles is the only other persona she's had besides that."

Lando wasn't shocked, but hearing it aloud was still a little surprising. "Did she like... do other things?"

"I'm promise I'm not lying when I tell you she'd never been touched there before. At least that she remembers."

It's Charles turn to look at Max with confusion. "What? She said she'd never touched, non?"

Max sighs with a heavy sadness. "Her dreams and how her body reacts... I think there may have been things that happened that she didn't remember or was unconscious for."

"She did say she was drugged and unconscious a lot." Charles considers.

Lando didn't know what to think. His brain couldn't function, and the older boys beside him were incredibly normal about this. He was beginning to feel the insecurity creep up his throat.

"That's a discussion for another time, though." Max smiles at Lando again and snage the journal back from him. "Don't laugh, but this is how we keep track of things." Max turned the page to a list of names with various information beneath. "Mind if I ask a few questions?"

"Uh- no. It's a little odd that you think I would say no now that we're already here."

"Fair." Max simply shrugs again. Lando is grateful Charles is here. He loves Max, but sometimes he explains things in a way that makes his brain do cartwheels. He's also grateful because Charles lets him play with his rings. "Remember, there is no judgment. We have to be honest to make this work."

"What if I say something weird?"

"I said my first experience with a guy was at a sex party. If you can top that, I'd be impressed." Charles chuckles a little. He thinks fondly of that memory now, but at the time, he'd been miserable.

"First question: dom or sub? Or neither."

Lando blinks at him. "Bottom?"

"Not what I asked."

Lando inhales through his teeth. "Sub." His eyes immediately find the floor. Not for long, though. Max grabs his chin and gently brings his gaze back to his.

"Need to see your eyes. You've got nothing to be ashamed of." The gentle voice Max uses throws his head into a tizzy.

"Again, Lan, if it makes you feel any better, I've been the dom in most my previous relationships, and then Max had me screaming daddy for the neighbors to hear."

"Don't be fooled, though. Charlie still knows how to take control when I let him." Max winks, and Landos feels as if he's gotten in the middle of something.

"Next question: have you used the stop light safe words?"

Lando just shakes his head. "Isn't that universal?"

"Yes, which makes it easy to use and remember."

"We have a list of hard pass kinks. I'll let you look at it, and you can add any to the list." Max flips the page again and hands the book to Lando. He reads through it and ponders for a moment. The things they have written are anything super harmful or just unsanitary. A few others scattered in between that have their own categories. He hands the book to Max when he feels satisfied.

"Great! Now the fun part." Max wiggles his eyebrows, and Charles wheezes because of how comical it looks.

"Mon amour, please- your going to scare him!"

"Rude. But anyway." Max flips again to the page they were on previously. "Okay, a couple of things to go over and some rules. Do you like being praised or degraded?"

"...Both." Lando tries to move back to looking at the floor, but Max catches him and tuts. He moves his gaze once again, and Lando is forced to look at the memorizing blue.

"Any positions you either don't like or haven't tried?"

For fucks sake. He sounds like such a slut right now. Is it bad that he likes this? "Pretty sure I've tried everything, but I'm always open to new things anyway." This time, he doesn't look away.

Charles leans back a little amused. Watching the two go back and forth in discussion. The obvious hard-on that Lando has dragging his attention away. The Brit can see him staring. He finds it somewhat like a compliment.

"Rules time."

"I struggle to remember, so please be patient."

"No worries, Lan. That's what the book is for." Now Max actually closes the book. All of Lando's information has been jot down. All of his kinks are now documented.

"So for Charles, he is a switch. But like... a dom leaning switch, if that makes sense." Lando shakes his head, and Max hums in approval. "Obviously, I'm in charge, and I like it that way." Max winks horribly at him, and Lando can't help but chuckle at his attempt to keep him comfortable. "She is a sub. She will slip into a subspace within five minutes of any sexual scenario. It's a given. That's why we have to be a little cautious."

Lando cocks his head to the side. His questioning eyes find the Monegasque again. "There are times her mind puts her there because she thinks we're upset with her, and it's how she can fix it even if she didn't do anything. If she's on her knees, it's usually a tell tale sign. Her father used to put her there when he wasn't happy with her. Basically, if she's on her knees, then don't go any further. It's not her consenting, it's her mind telling her she needs to fix things and we don't want to take advantage of that."

Lando's heart hurts at the statement. It's terrible that she ever had to do that. He nods in understanding and appreciation of charles' explanation.

"On that not also, because she can go crazy far into sub space, she can drop hard. One minute, we're starting aftercare, and the next, she can't fathom being in her own skin. Like she did something wrong or wasn't enough or going as far as to hate that she went there in the first place."

"Lan, please be honest. Do you get deep in the headspace and drop?" Charles' voice is so nice that he almost whimpers at it.

"Yes, but I also do other things." Max and Charles eye each other for a moment. It would make sense why, they just listed all his kinks. "I find it fun not to do as told and rile people up."

Max looks at him with something mischievous. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun."

Charles leans in to Lando. His breath hot on his ear. "I tried it once. Never again. This is the time I cried daddy for the entire building to hear."

Lando looks directly at Max. "I like a challenge."

Max is breathing heavier now. Lando is now joined in his predicament.

"I think we should give him something to help his little issue. Don't you think cher?" The hot breath and low voice of the Monegasque does nothing to help him.

~

Charles had been sitting on the bed with her. She was lost in the sound of his voice telling her everything about Lando. What he likes, what he doesn't, the important things.

She's already fading, and she knows it. It's not just because of the soothing voice of a certain Monegasque, but also because she can clearly hear Lando whimpering.

Charles runs his fingers along her body. "Are you feeling fuzzy already?" She nods and curls up into him. "We don't have to join. I can take care of you here if you think joining them will be too much."

She shakes her head no and quickly stands from the bed to emphasize her point.

They completely disregard the fact that she's in nothing but one of Max's oversized hoodies. It's all just going to come off again regardless, and she completely trusts Lando anyway.

The sight on the couch is nothing that she was expecting. Why does Max have Lando over his knee already?

"I brought someone to join." Charles strokes her cheek, and she leans into the soothing touch. Any touch right now feels like heaven in her eyes.

Max manhandles Lando off of him and into a kneeling position. This is also new. They never let her stay on her knees.

Max gets off the couch and pointedly looks at Lando. "Stay put."

Max caresses the other side of her face when he reaches her. "Things are going to be different again because Lando is here now. Do you understand?"

She'd already learned that when Charles came along. But he is similar to Max in a way. Lando is very new. "Yes."

"Yes who?"

"Yes, sir."

Her words make Max smile. But it goes away as soon as he turns around and sees Lando sitting on the floor instead of kneeling. "Technically speaking, I stayed put!"

She looks to Charles for some sort of explanation. "Lando likes to misbehave."

Misbehave? That's an option? She'd always done as told without questions. Though she'd gotten punished before. It's not in the sex part. It's with the life part.

Max had started it after her unhealthy habits started getting worse. It helped her to break them. Even if they cone through because she gets in her head, Max and Charles have been there to pull her back with their bedroom tactics. The way the two tag team is terrifying sometimes.

Charles guides her to the sofa and Max is quickly back to manhandling Lando. The Brit is smiling like an idiot and she thinks for a moment that this will be interesting to watch.

She leans into Charles as they sit down. “why does he like it? I thought that misbehaving is a bad thing?”

“To you, yes. You like it when we tell you you’re doing a good job.” Charles points to where Max is teasing Lando. The Brits body being pinned exactly where Max wants him. “He likes making people lose patience and then people calling him, uh, degrading things.”

“Like the words we use only in scenes?” Charles hums a confirmation. the vibration tickling her skin.

"I'm shocked we haven't corrupted you you yet chéri. You're still so parfaite, so innocent." His voice sends a shudder down her spine. His finger still brushing the spots along her body that make her mind spin.

Their moment is interrupted by Lando, again, being tossed onto the couch. Effectively startling the two out of their moment.

“Max, amour, must you throw him around?”

“Better work out then just lifting in my opinion.” Max shrugs and laughs.

Lando readjusts himself, throwing his legs over the other two. “I think this I gonna be fun.” He smirks.

~

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[002yb]

"It's too big."

The way Kory titters gives him butterflies even after all these years. From where she stands in front of him, Dick watches fondly as her shoulders tremble from her giggles, as she looks over her shoulder at him with an easy smile and bright eyes.

"I believe the saying goes, 'That's what she said,' yes?" Kory says, out-of-pocket. It makes Dick snicker, unabashed as he presses an adoring kiss to Kory's shoulder. She hums at the affection, sighing pleasantly. When she reaches behind her to drag her fingertips high up Dick's thigh, Dick jolts from surprise, barking out a short laugh when she teases, "I don't mind though."

Dick loves her.

"The corset." He says, disappointed if only because it's fun when Kory wants to dress up and even better when she wants Dick's help. With all the excess to the garment though, there's no way for Dick to lace her into it. Not in the way it was intended, at least. Not in the way Kory was hopeful for. She had been so excited about it, too.

He wonders if the shop Kory went to earlier that day is still open and if he ran like a fool, Dick could make it and charm his way into an exchange. He'd be willing to try, if nothing else.

"You're supposed to tighten it." Kory tells him, the cheeky minx.

With the same cheek, Dick tugs at the excess corset. Pulling Kory back into him with a surprised 'oh!' before she laughs and, 'oh,' indeed. Butterflies again - just like that.

She pulls at the corset, too, for the first time noticing that it's looser than all her others and likely not the same as what she'd meant to buy at the shops. A shame, but they can always have their fun without it, too—

"This must be Jason's." Kory explains, far too casual for such a bold, earth-shattering statement. Though she goes on to talk about how she must have grabbed the wrong bag when they were checking out, Dick's thoughts are still caught on: this must be Jason's.

Meaning... the corset Dick has in his hands - the one he'd been lacing up and cinching tight; all pretty boning and alluring mesh and delicate appliques actually belongs to... for Jason to... oh. Oh.

The visual is there before Dick can stop it and, try as he might, he can't make it go away. He stands there, stupefied and actually stupid, because oh. Oh, no. His thoughts race faster than he can keep up with, that image of Jason inappropriately at the forefront of it all.

He knew that Jason and Kory went out earlier. They go shopping together often. Is the lingerie shopping a part of their thing? Do they always buy the same pieces?

Oh, Dick thinks again, helpless as a flush warms his cheeks and stings his ears because the implications are damning: his girlfriend and his little wing have matching sets of lingerie.

Whoah. Wow.

Lost in his thoughts of being pressed between two corseted beauties with their bolstered racks, Dick is oblivious to how Kory turns to face him, her hand holding loosely to the ill-fitting bodice. It gives Dick a blessed view of her chest, but before it has a chance to distract him Kory is laughing at him, giggling with a fond endearment. Tickled, she calls him out, "You're fantasizing it!"

Dick startles to attention, wide eyed, overheated, and utterly exposed. "I'm not!" He sputters, but his voice cracks and Kory is delighted by it.

"I know this blush," She says as she pinches Dick's reddened ears, gaze softening as she looks him over - takes him in. She smiles warmly at him even as she teases him and makes him blush worse, "You are flustered. Imagine how I was feeling, to see him!"

"I'm really not," Dick insists half heartedly around embarrassed laughter.

"Lies, I see you." Kory laughs, too. Not so much embarrassed as she is zealous to be able to share this with him, now that she's found Dick out for the truly degenerate man he is, "Don't leave me alone with these feelings!"

Not for the first time that day, that evening, that very hour - Dick is taken by how truly beautiful Kory is. She stands in front of him, holding the too-loose corset up, and reenacting her afternoon spent out with one of her dear friends. Gesturing to her own chest, pressing her breasts together so that Dick can have a proper visual and understanding of just how bewitching Jason's cleavage is.

"I understand now why you always want to smother yourself in mine."

She's teasing him again, but alongside it is a cute comprehension. Dick laughs when Kory tells him her love for him is second to none, but his chest —and she feels him up then with her hand to his pec, pressing her fingers into muscle while hmm'ing and haa'ing— is too firm; it's not soft. The gesture she makes, the grabby hands, disarms Dick. It's too sweet, but Kory is as enthralled as Dick by the majesty of Jason's chest.

"Don't change this though," She warns Dick, tapping Dick's chest. Dragging her nail down his abdomen, finger catching at the waistline of his pants and smiling over how Dick shivers, melts.

Kory raises both her hands then, catching the corset awkwardly with her elbows. When she grazes her thumbs over Dick's cheeks, Dick raises his hand to hold her. Turns his head to kiss the heel of her palm and smiles soft when she flusters, too.

Dick loves her so much it takes his own breath away. He feels tongue tied. Bashful in a way he hasn't been since Kory and he were young. To love and be loved by someone so warm and wild and wonderful — Dick kisses her hand again, the tips of her fingers.

=====

@alexandraisapenguin — alpengu somehow, someway I lost your ask, but this is based off of what you sent me most recently! With Jason wearing something more fem + Dick and Kory and ahhhhhh somehow it became entirely dickory being cute and appreciating hot toddies, whoops. At the same time, I can't be sorry because they're so freaking cute?? ;U;

Here are some additional thoughts to bring it around to something that involves Jason a little more:

A no-cheating!AU where it's actually Kory that puts all the depraved thoughts of Jason in Dick’s head hahahahahaha. Because 1) Kory is interested and 2) it flusters Dick so easily and that's cute

Dick, taking the hint and having that conversation like:

'You want him to...' and Kory is like, no.

And Dick pales because while he'd suffer through it for Kory, Dick isn't the most keen on the alternative: 'oh, you want him...to me...?' and Kory laughs because again, no. The opposite!

Which, oh.

All in all Kory wants the both of them to fuck Jason and Dick just about passes out because oh my god

Just Dick, scandalized but also so completely understood by his partner hahaha

But yes, there being a joint effort to pursue Jason. And Kory already loves him, but Dick falls just as hard as he comes to really know his little wing and it's beautiful and ahhhhhhhh <3

Okay here's a dickjay bit since that was supposed to be the ask:

Something with Dick happening on Jason trying to tie his own corset. Maybe he seeks Jason out for intel or a mission or because there was another family falling out, but Jason isn't expecting him.

And Jason feels so humiliated and exposed because the delicate clothes are too big a vulnerability. Especially since they're 'ill fitting' and 'wrong' for someone like him

Cue some fights and scrapping because Jason lashes out in his embarrassment until Dick gets Jason pinned, front against a wall, and he pulls the corset tight and Jason just sort of ohs

Or! Dick gets Jason pinned with Jason's back to the wall, instead. And they're pressed close, chest to chest. And Dick gets distracted in an instant because Jason's heaving bosom ohhhhhhh hello

Regardless, Dick telling Jason, 'Let me.' and Jason relenting and it's just this quiet, intimate thing

And Dick marvels at all of Jason, fingers trailing along the cut of his waist

Ugh, Dick smiling that heart stopping smile and telling Jason that he looks really nice. And that soft/delicate/beautiful things suit him ;A; Which sort of devastates Jason in the softest of ways

And it's because the corset is too tight that he loses his breath, not because of Dick

Another potential scene, where Dick and Kory have successfully wooed Jason into their lives and while Kory is chill, Dick is very much not, never:

Dick is always nestled in Kory's chest. And constantly peeks at Jason to test the waters there. And Jason stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest because no, not a chance

Until one day (among way too many) Dick is again staring at Jason's toddies and Jason heaves the greatest of sighs before clicking his tongue and telling Dick to just do it - he's so damn embarrassing

And Dick dives right in, face first into Jason's chest before choking out the most sinful of sounds and Jason startles because omfg, stooooooop

Also, Dick and Kory taking one toddy each to rest on ahahaha. Meanwhile Jason stares deadpan into the void because what's happening? How did this become his life?

========

Thank you to anyone who has read this far! And to alpengu, thank you very much for the ask again (and tags on some of your reblogs - I see you lol). Quiet as I've been lately, I really do appreciate all the support from everyone. //U///

But yes, ngl I miss posting a lot too and hope to be able to write more again ahahaha. More often than not the thoughts are rough/disjointed, but I'm happy with how the drabble portion of this turned out!

[pedroshotwifey]

Ok, random idea for drabble:

Overprotective girldad! Frankie

He and the guys get together to size up/intimidate the guy coming by to pick up his daughter for a date. 😅

Okay I'm really kind of loving this idea 🤣

Think I had way too much fun with it!

W/C: 660

Overprotective girldad!Frankie (G)

They could be doing anything right now. Bowling, flying, fishing, hiking, shooting pool, drinking—well, you get the idea. They could be doing anything on this cool Friday night, but the former Delta Team boys are sitting around the island in Frankie’s cramped kitchen, waiting for his daughter’s date to show up. 

“Frankie,” Benny speaks up for the group. “You have got to give her some slack, dude.” 

The glare Frankie sends the younger man’s way makes the rest of the guys glad Benny said it first. Benny—being Benny—doesn’t get the hint. 

“I mean, c’mon, she’s nineteen.” He tosses another handful of peanuts into his mouth, continuing his risky  and unwanted opinion with a mouth full of food. “And a grown adult.” 

For the sake of his good friend, Frankie pretends not to hear and goes back to scoping out his front lawn through the living room window. He peers out the temporary crack he’s made in the blinds for another couple of minutes, and then suddenly jumps away. 

“Little shit’s finally here,” Frankie grumbles as he walks past the group, glancing at his watch. “Minute and a half late.” He marches to the front door. 

Knowing that’s their queue to follow, the men eye each other before sliding off the barstools and gathering around their paranoid friend. It would be comical to see Frankie so worked up over this kid if he weren’t so serious about it. He’s absolutely convinced that there is no boy out there good enough for his little girl, and there is not a breathing soul on this earth that could change his mind. 

So they huddle up in their most intimidating stance, Santi to the left of Frankie, Benny to the right, and Will behind and between Frankie and Ben. If for no other reason than to make sure Frankie doesn’t give off “Little Man Syndrome” energy all by himself, they puff their chests, stand tall, and put on stern faces. 

The poor kid doesn’t even get to knock before Frankie pulls the door open. One glance at the guys, and he looks about ready to piss his pants—which really only proves Frankie’s point. 

“M-Mr. Morales?” The kid squeaks, doing his damndest to only focus on Frankie, and holds his hand out to shake. “I’m Tyler, here to pick your daughter up for—” he stutters when Frankie raises a brow— “for our date.” 

Frankie stares for a second, and the kid—Tyler—just about breaks down. 

“I-I mean, not our date, but y-your daughter’s. O-obviously. And mine—me and your daughter, our date.” 

Santi glances at Will, who is already side-eyeing Santi. That look conveys exactly what they’re both thinking: someone should really put this guy out of his misery. Luckily, Charlotte appears at the top of the stairs at that exact moment. 

“Oh my god, Dad!” She bursts out. “Stop making Tyler feel weird!” 

And it’s like a switch is flipped in Frankie. He turns around, smile bright on his face for his daughter. None of the guys are phased—this is how these things usually go. 

“Of course I’m not, sweetheart! Tyler and I actually just finished up a great conversation.” He turns back to the boy, still cheery. “Isn’t that right, sport?” 

Tyler, who looks like he should probably drink some water, quickly nods. “Yes, absolutely,” he agrees. 

Charlotte scoffs, not totally buying it, and quickly hurries the rest of the way downstairs. Before she reaches the torture circle at the front doorway, Frankie smiles one last time at Tyler. 

“Hurt her, and see what happens,” he says, just loudly enough for the kid to hear, and in a tone that would sound joking to anybody else. 

A hug for his daughter and a (possibly too aggressive) pat on the shoulder for Tyler later, the kids are headed down the driveway, one a tad more stiff than the other. 

“Be back by nine,” Frankie calls after them. 

Will glances at the clock and sighs. It’s 8:12pm.