#had this ready to make for a while but this morning I looked at my work schedule for later this week and I hate it so I decided to make this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangaveragewhitewine · 2 days ago

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⋆⁺₊❅ meet the parents

single dad Eddie Munson x single mom Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: For my fourth and final fic of @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas, I bring you a romcom-worthy meet cute! A one-night stand in a small town is always a dangerous game.

Content: Eddie and Reader are both single parents. Modern AU. P in V and oral sex. Too many feelings for a one-night stand. Reader’s shitty ex mention. Small town dynamics. Light on Christmas, heavy on Eddie being a sexy menace. If you see any typos/messy sentences lmk!!

Just an extra little note to say the biggest THANK YOU to @littlexdeaths for putting together these wonderful Promptmas ideas, and for just being completely lovely and amazing too. I have had such a fun few weeks working on writing again, it’s been a crazy few months for me personally so this has been the best way to get back into writing and feeling creative again!! I’ve loved every minute ❤️

✨bang average festive fics✨ Eddie Munson fics ✨Dividers by @strangergraphics✨

It has been quite a few years since you woke up in a stranger’s bed.

More used to the morning time routine of trying to get a sleepy six-year-old up and ready for the day, or the heartwarming feeling of said six-year-old making her way into your bed to cuddle on sleepy Sundays, you feel a little out of your depth this morning.

And some degree of hungover.

But it could be worse, you supposed. The stranger’s bed was comfy and he had plenty of pillows for you to sleep on. His sheets were clean and he had not totally smothered you like a limpet all night, nor had he expected you to get up and leave while you were still catching your breath. He was a fairer bedmate than your daughter, and it was pleasant to wake up with the warm weight of his inked arm around you rather than a kid’s-size-twelve foot digging into your ribs, or her hair in your mouth.

You sink into the comfort of it all, relishing that long-forgotten post-great-sex ache all over and the feeling of waking after a deep and dreamless sleep. You had not been this well-rested in almost seven years.

Next to you, he is asleep on his stomach with his arm across your middle. The room is dusky dark, but you can still make out the tattoos along his pale bare body and the glint of his nose ring, the spill of long dark hair piled up on his head. He is much softer now than when you met in the bar last night, no coy smirk or wolfish grin, no deep dimples on his cheeks. His whiskey eyes are still shut, and you feel warm all over when you remember how he had looked at you like you were the only woman in the bar, in the world, last night. How he had taken you home and taken you apart right here in his navy sheets.

Carefully, trying not to wake the man next to you, you ease yourself up to check your phone. It’s far too early to worry about picking Hazel up yet.

Not for the first time, you say a silent thanks to the universe for your neighbour for agreeing to babysit Hazel so that you could have a well-deserved Christmas night out with the friends you had made at work. You will bring her a nice hand-tied bouquet from the shop next week, just because. Without Claudia and her kindness to lean on, you know that going it alone in this small new town would so be much harder. It had been serendipitous really, moving in next door to an older and wiser woman who had been in the very same position as you when her son was not much older than Hazel. You begin piecing together the perfect bouquet for her, eucalyptus and rose and red ribbon, distracting yourself briefly from the dull ache in your head and the dry feeling on your tongue.

He brought you a glass of water before you fell asleep together. It’s cool in your throat, though it barely touches the sides of the discomfort pressing behind your brows. When the glass is mostly empty, you settle back next to him and let yourself doze for a little longer.

Eddie instinctively pulls you closer in his sleep, his warm morning breath tickling your shoulder and neck. You know it is just temporary, he is still a stranger, but let yourself enjoy the fleeting comfort while it lasts.

“Morning.”

His voice is rough and smoky, and there’s a tired smile waiting for you when you open your eyes a while later. You are struck by how pretty he is, handsome and hot but pretty with it; long dark lashes and doe-eyes, cheekbones to die for.

“Hi,” you whisper back. You feel yourself smiling back at him, feeling dreamy and oh-so-comfortable. You stretch your body out, relishing the rush of blood and oxygen to your muscles and your eyes drop closed again at that so-good feeling.

“Sleeping Beauty.”

When Eddie kisses your hair, you miss how he closes his eyes and savours the moment; you are too busy basking in the unexpected tenderness of this one-night stand, the easiness of waking up slow with a man you met less than twelve hours ago. Even if it is just for this morning, you soak it up.

“Mhmm. You have a comfy bed,” you whisper, looking up at him again.

You brush your fingertips along his silver chain before tracing up to his jaw, past the tendrils of hair escaping his scrunchie. You know the feeling of that dark grown-out and nicely-maintained stubble, how it brushed and burned so good on the inside of your thighs, how it feels against your lips.

Tentatively, bravely, you press your mouth against his and feel his smile. It’s sweet, slow. Intimate and lovely.

“Yeah? M’glad you think so,” he murmurs and steals one more kiss before pulling you against his body.

Last night as you basked in the afterglow, Eddie asked so quietly if he could hold you and you almost teared up about it. It had been a long time since anyone had held you like that, like he is holding you again this morning. It has been a long time since anyone has been sweet to you, shared closeness and intimacy like this. Not since the man you loved upped and left, leaving you and one-year-old Hazel with only each other to love.

You feel the strength of his arms and the softness of his belly. There’s a stirring, hardening interest against your thigh and yet he’s not being too forward or pushy. He’s just holding you, just ‘coz.

“I don’t… S’a while since I had a sleepover,” he admits, running his blunt nails over the small of your back. “You didn’t hog the covers, and you didn’t sneak off without saying bye…”

Eddie pulls back a little, wearing that small flirty smile that made you swoon last night. His voice is so playful, even though it is deep with morning huskiness.

“Still here,” you whisper back, “I… It’s been a while for me too. I don’t usually… Yeah.” You shrug, you know he gets it.

There is a glint of something in his eyes before he looks up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we did. I had fun.”

The dimple in his cheek is beautiful and bashful, and when he looks at you again his eyes go right to your lips.

“Me too.” You touch his chain again and tug gently to bring your lips together again, putting you both out of your misery.

No one has ever kissed you like Eddie did last night, with all-consuming lust that made you feel electric. He is a blend of rough and smooth, a firm guiding hand followed by a gentle caress. You have never felt so wanted, so craved.

The way he kisses you this morning pushes aside the thoughts of all you need to do today. All you know is want, the cloying feeling of wanting to touch and be touched, craving pleasure. With his hands to guide, you straddle his lap and lean into the feeling of his fingertips wandering past the hem of the t-shirt he loaned you last night.

Eddie looks up at you like you’re some sort of deity, his eyes and lips shining as you peel off the t-shirt and throw it behind you, leaving yourself bare in his lap. He was not put off by the stretch marks, or the Mom Body you felt so self-conscious about sometimes. Nor was he put off by the fact that you are a Mom. Eddie had simply smiled when you briefly mentioned your daughter, told you he had his own little girl without giving too much away. With that fresh layer of yourselves on show, you could understand each other just a little bit more without going full gushing-parent mode, sharing pictures of your little angels or ranting about who loved Bluey and loathed Peppa more.

His fingers run over the stretch marks on your hips, starting up a slow grind as he kisses your neck (remembering your ‘no marks’ rule). There is a slight chill in the air to remind you that beyond this liminal bliss, it is a frosty December morning, but Eddie warms you up and distracts you without second thought.

In the gauzy light, you see touches of fatherhood around his room, easily missed in the passion of last night - a framed drawing on his bedside table, a kiddie hair clip in his ring dish. You smile to yourself and shiver when his warm breath skates over the damp trail of kisses.

“Pretty smile,” he murmurs, needing to taste and feel it again.

Hands wander and squeeze and you get drunk on each other all over again in the cocoon of Eddie’s bed. You blindly follow his dark treasure trail before taking him in hand, hot and diamond-hard, and savour the taste and sound of his moan. Your aching need for him is tempered and satiated by his fingers and you flush hot all over when he encourages you to scoot up and let him taste you, almost begging for it. Dazed with want, you find yourself clinging to the headboard with white knuckles and his name spilling from your lips.

Eddie could die a happy man with your thighs bracketing his head. The taste of you makes him feel drunk as you take your pleasure from him; the needy roll of your hips is encouraged by his greedy hands in contrast to how cautious and careful you had been not to trap and tug his hair beneath your knees.

When you are sufficiently dumb with pleasure, he lays you back against the pillows and lays out his desire for you in between messy kisses, losing his train of thought when you get your hand back on him and whisper back your need for him to fuck you now. Eddie reaches blindly for the (blessedly still-in-date) box of foil-wrapped packets in his drawer, not wanting to look away from you for even a moment.

He holds your hand as he makes love to you and you have to remind yourself not to get too caught up in how sweet Eddie is, even when he his making you feel like you have never been so full; sweetness and filthy words wound together so sweetly. It’s overwhelming and he catches you fighting tears when you feel too good.

“Hey,” he whispers, wearing too much worry between his brows. “Do you want to stop, sweetheart? Am I hurting you?”

A guy being decent should not make your heart swell like this, and yet it does. You shake your head, tears spill over and he brushes them away with care.

“No, no. You’re not hurting me,” you promise. “I feel really good. S’just a lot.”

Your voice wobbles and he smiles fondly against your mouth, relieved and happy to be wanted in return.

Eddie has this magnetism, warm and cloying and a little mysterious; it makes you feel comfortable even when he’s teasing you and making you flush hot all over.

“Yeah, baby? That’s what I’m here for,” he whispers, and kisses you slowly, sweetly. “Let me make you feel good.” You feel like your heart could beat out of your chest. He can feel it hammering against him as he starts up a slow roll of his hips that fills you completely.

Your fingers clutch at the sheets as Eddie fucks you into his mattress. Nothing else matters in those moments, only pleasure. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into the meat and muscle of his arm, lick the drip of sweat from his neck. Instead, you taste the way he moans your name and cling to him when you come just moments apart - you first, then him.

He shares his water with you afterwards when he sees your empty glass; you are both damp with sweat and lying side by side with your heartbeats pounding in your ears, the lingering taste of each other on your tongues.

When he kisses you again, his lips are water-cooled and tender.

“Can I make you some coffee? I have to pick up my little terror in a bit…” he says, already cringing at himself. “She’s great, I swear. I promised her diner pancakes for brunch.”

Reality trickles back in, a not-unpleasant cooling off of your morning together.

“Yeah, I should probably not show up in last night’s clothes to pick my kid up. Coffee sounds good.”

There was always an expiry date on this; the boundaries of a one-night stand were set and familiar, despite how long it has been and despite how easy and intimate this morning has been. You’re both adults, both okay with it.

“Cool.” He smiles and hauls himself out of bed, stepping into his lost and found again boxers before he doubles back to kiss your cheek.

When your legs are steady enough he shows you how the shower works, leaving you to it with a new toothbrush, fresh towels and a familiar squeeze to your bare hip. There’s a little part of you that wants him to join you, waste hot water and let him press you against the cold tiles. Eddie wants that too, to delay your inevitable parting of ways and return to reality.

When you look in the mirror, you see a well-fucked woman; kiss-bitten lips and that long-lost post-sex glow.

“What the fuck,” you murmur to yourself, giggling a little when you think over the last twelve hours.

You had not gone out looking for a hookup last night, but you made the most of the festive excuse to go for drinks with the few friends you had made since moving to Hawkins six months ago. Catching Eddie’s eye at the bar had been a happy accident. A happy accident that lead to letting him buy you a drink, and then buying him one back. Your friends had wholeheartedly encouraged it, knew him to see around town and vouched for him as a mechanic. Good with his hands, they had teased. Oh, how right they had been.

The water is hot and Eddie’s shower gel is the typical ‘for men’ scented sort of thing. You feel fresh and clean when you step back into the bedroom, finding sweats and an Iron Maiden hoodie on the bed for you, alongside your clothes from last night (which Eddie has attempted to fold neatly, instead of leaving you to pick them up from the floor).

It should not make you smile so much, but your cheeks ache pleasantly as you dress yourself, opting for last night’s jeans with Eddie’s sweater. It’s washed-soft and smells like the detergent you have at home with a hint of his cologne.

You follow the scent of coffee and the sound of music downstairs, finding more traces of parenthood on your way - a purple fairy door on the baseboard, a washing basket full of clean kids' clothes outside a closed bedroom door, light-up Skechers and silver glitter rain boots in the hall. There is something familiar about them, but brush it aside as something Hazel probably asked for in Target.

Eddie’s unbuttoned jeans hang low on his hips as he makes coffee in mismatched mugs, his hair is down tickling against his bare shoulders and back. There are drawings on the fridge and a Christmas tree peeking out from the living room. It feels like a happy home.

His eyes light up when he sees you, looking as hungry and enamoured by you in his hoodie as he had been when you were wearing nothing at all.

“Do you take sugar, or are you sweet enough?” he asks, wearing a softer version of that panty-dropper smile from last night. He smells clean, minty and masculine, after a quick whore’s bath in the other bathroom.

“Just one,” you say, resting your hip against the kitchen island while you watch him fix up your coffee. “You’re smooth, huh?”

“You tell me.” He slides the mug across to you before blowing on his coffee, taking a still-too-hot sip that he tries and fails to cover. For a moment, you think he might be doing a bit, alas he is simply endearingly clumsy.

You feel bad laughing, but Eddie only pouts a little bit before grinning at you. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and he ducks his head to hide behind his hair.

“Real smooth.”

Exercising patience, you decide to let your coffee cool a little.

“I’ll give you a ride home if you like?” he says, hoping it’s not too forward.

He wants to be more forward, ask for your number and ask you out. He likes how his clothes fit your body, and how you looked blissed-out in his bed. While Eddie’s trying not to come off too strong, you appreciate his sweetness and fight your own internal battle of trying not to fall for your one-night stand.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Eddie. I’m over on Cornwallis, is that out of your way?”

He smiles a little, “I don’t mind a little detour, sweetheart.”

You pointedly blow on your coffee, learning from his mistake, and savour the made-just-right coffee in a Snoopy & Woodstock mug.

Over his shoulder, you spot a photo of a familiar man on the fridge, bookended by two heads of dark curly hair. There’s a handpainted fridge magnet with ‘Fae’ written in childishly charming pink writing, and you feel your cheeks flame.

He watches your face change, looks over his shoulder to see what you’re looking at.

“Ah. That’s my Uncle Wayne, and Fae. My daughter. she’s six.” He unpins the picture and thumbs over it gently before turning it around to you.

You know exactly who they are, but take it anyway.

When you moved your life to Hawkins, Indiana six months ago, you would never have believed that you would make friends with a grandfather in his sixties outside of Curtain Call Dance Studio while you waited for Hazel. Making friends as a single Mom in a new town was not easy, you had little time outside of work and parenting for yourself, let alone socialising (and god forbid, dating). And then you parked next to Wayne one Thursday. He was a little quiet but had warmed up more each week; now he smiled when he saw you, asked how your job at the florists was and how Hazel was doing in school.

Even though they were in different First Grade class groups at Hawkins Elementary, Hazel and Fae had become almost inseparable in their dance classes and on the playground.

You knew Fae’s dad worked late some evenings, so Wayne helped him out. Hazel had told you that she had seen Fae’s dad once when he picked her up early to go to the dentist, and that he had hair just like her friend.

“She looks just like me, it’s crazy - poor kid. I can’t believe she’s six. She’s supposed to be three, max. Y’know what I mean?” He says, showing you more of his proud Dad side before realising that your confusion is not because you’re looking at a picture of two clones. “You okay?”

“You’re Fae’s Dad? Fae Munson?” you ask, watching his shoulders tense a little as he nods. “Eddie. Our kids know each other. I’ve met Wayne.”

He scowls slightly beneath his bangs, confused and a little worried that he hooked up with the mother of one of the kids who was mean to Fae in school, who told the teacher when she was ‘too chatty’ or when she stood up for herself.

The words spill from you untempered, unrestrained to clear it all up. “They’re at dance class together. They’re in the same grade. Hazel and Fae are friends, Eddie…”

He visibly softens, drops his shoulders, and even though he still looks confused he melts even more when an involuntary nervous laugh bubbles from your chest.

“Seriously? No… You’re Hazel’s mom?” His eyes blow wide. “Fuck.”

Eddie puts his head on the counter with a thunk, and you’re left with the photo of three smiling Munsons. Fae has her Dad’s eyes and hair, his impish mischief that had endeared you to the little girl. They really are alike.

“Wayne was right,” he says, muffled beneath his hair before peeking at you, “You are cute.”

It makes you laugh more, though your cheeks feel like the surface of the sun.

“Wayne thinks I’m cute? Huh…”

“No. Nope,” he yelps, head flying up like a wild thing. “Oh my goddd.”

You feel a little spacey as the pieces fall into place. Wayne’s nephew Ed worked at Thatcher Tyre as a mechanic, and Fae had told Hazel her Dad looked like a rockstar. She wasn’t wrong…

“He was totally going to try and set us up or somethin’.”

“He did say I’d finally get to meet you at the Winter Performance…” you say, feeling fizzy-all-over as you come to terms with the shock of it all. “Guess we bet him to it.”

“Told me you were real sweet too.” Eddie smiles, his cheeks are pinker than ever.

Part of your brain berates you for hooking up with a stranger in a small town - a small town where everyone knows everyone else. But when Eddie reaches his hand out across the island and says, “Good to finally meet you, Hazel’s Mom,” with that flirty smile and his whiskey eyes, it melts away and you’re not really that sorry at all.

You take his hand, mug-warmed and adorned with silver rings.

“Nice to meet you at last, Fae’s Dad.”

Neither of you is too embarrassed by the revelation, though you both circle back to how fucking crazy it is at least twice. Even though you still feel gooey-warm under his attention, you don’t want anything to get in the way of your daughter’s friendship, of your new start in Hawkins, and feel selfish for wanting more than the taste you have already had of Eddie Munson. You both know your time together is drawing to an end, the bubble is about to burst, and a little part of you wishes that the illusion of being strangers could have lasted a little longer.

With your coffee consumed and your coats and boots on, Eddie takes your hand and pulls you against his body before you step outside of the door together.

“Hey, gorgeous. One more kiss?” he asks, head tilted to the side.

You don’t need to think about it, and take his stubbled jaw with both hands as he holds your hips. Kissing him makes all the tension roll away once more, and you hope it is enough to help him remember you as more than just some other Mom in the First Grade Parents Group Chat (which you both have muted). You have to savour it, remember his taste and touch.

Eddie is not shy about kissing you, he slides his tongue against yours and moans ever so quietly when you push your chest against his. He is also the one to slow it down, makes it sweet and tender and you would dare say romantic, even with his hands on your ass.

“Can I ask for one more thing?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours.

Right now, you would consider giving him a kidney or a blow job if he asked nicely.

“Mhm,” you whisper, giving nothing away just yet.

“Can I get your number? I wanna take you out properly,” he says, his thumbs play with the belt loop at the back of your jeans. “Like a date.”

Feeling hot all over, you try to play it cool and not nod so eagerly lest you headbutt him and leave him bloody-nosed.

“Yeah. That would be nice, Eddie.”

He watches how your teeth sink into your lip and has to kiss you once more, just because. You take his phone and add your number and name, adding a little sparkle emoji before deleting it. Then you add it again and hand it back before you can change your mind.

“Cool. And, um maybe the girls could have a play date sometime? I was gonna ask for your number anyway, so y’know. Two birds, one stone and all that. Silver linings?” Eddie does a jazz-hand-flourish thing before he shakes his head at himself and tucks his phone away. “I had a good time with you. A great time. And I know what you might be thinking, I don’t want this to get between the girls either. But I’d love to see you again.”

You are even more endeared by these glimpses of how sensible he is as well as his goofy awkwardness beneath the leather jacket and bad boy stare.

He is as gentlemanly as he had been last night, opening doors for you, though he is less handsy in the bright morning light (he does give your knee a squeeze at the stoplight). You feel safe with him as he navigates the frosty roads of Hawkins, talking about music, what concerts you had been to before becoming parents, and where to get the sparkly tutus for the Winter Performance.

All too soon he pulls up outside your house, spotting the red door with the handmade wreath that you had described.

“Next to Henderson’s?” he asks, brow raised.

“Yep. Do you know Claudia, or is this town just too small?”

He laughs, tilts his head against the headrest. “It’s way too small. Her son, Dustin? One of my best friends.”

You tip your head forward, smiling even as your head shakes. “I’ve heard so much about Dustin. We’re having Christmas dinner with them.”

Eddie's dimpled cheeks crease even more. “Damn. Well, I can’t wait to hear why you picked Hawkins of all places to move to. You can tell me on our date.”

Proud of how that flusters you, he presses a kiss to your hand and winks, “I’ll text you later, sweetheart.”

You want to kiss him again, but you manage to restrain yourself, remembering the nosy neighbours on Cornwallis. Instead, you let the flickering fire inside you flirt back, hoping to fluster him too.

You place your hand high on his thigh and squeeze. “You better, Eddie. Drive safe.”

You can feel him checking you out all over again, the weight and warmth of his gaze, as you make your way up the path to your door. Once your key is in the lock, you part ways with a wave and a wink, lingering just a moment more to watch his car peel away from the curb.

Left with a fluttering feeling in your tummy and warm cheeks that ache from smiling, you take a moment for yourself in your hallway.

It is time to go back to being Hazel’s mom. You can’t wait to hear about her sleepover with Ms. Claudia and the cats, bask in her brilliance and take every hug and smooch she will offer you (or let you take for yourself). Inspired by Eddie and Fae’s breakfast date, you think of taking your girl to the diner for dinner later on, maybe watching a Christmas movie before bed.

In the mirror above your sideboard, hanging above the key dish and the thrifted lamp and a photo of you and Hazel in matching sunglasses, you catch sight of your smiling reflection once more, enveloped in a dreamy daze and borrowed hoodie. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and your smile becomes bigger, brighter, brimming with hope.

What did you think? Do we want more of these two? 👀 Thank you so very very much for reading! Your comments, reblogs and likes are incredibly appreciated and adored!

Whether you're celebrating or not, I am wishing you the cosiest and most wonderful holiday season filled with peace and love and every good thing you deserve ✨

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covenofagatha · 2 days ago

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A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 1)

@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress

You are a profiler for the FBI when you get called to help catch a serial killer in Westview. (Killing Eve/Hannibal AU)

Word count: 4200

Warnings: descriptions of violence, fear

The phone rings at 7:30 in the morning on your day off and you want to throw it against the wall.

You had been sleeping – having a very good dream, actually – when the harsh ringtone roughly jolts you out of your slumber.

“Hello?” you answer groggily, rubbing your face with your hand. If it’s a spam call, you think you might lose your mind.

“Is this Agent Y/L/N?” A gruff voice asks and you shoot up out of bed into the sitting position.

You clear your throat and try to sound professional. “Um, yes, this is she. Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Director Hayward,” the man says, and your eyes widen. The head of the FBI is calling you. “Have you heard of the town of Westview?”

Your forehead wrinkles while you rack your brain for anything that sounds familiar. “No, sir, I don’t think so.”

There’s muffled sounds from the other side of the phone and then you can hear Director Hayward clearly. “It’s a small town in New Jersey. Nothing special, nothing too out of the ordinary.” He pauses like you’re supposed to recognize it, but after a moment of silence he sighs and continues. “About seven months ago, we believe a pair of serial killers moved into town. Bodies started piling up, seemingly no rhyme or reason to who was killed, only that the victims were all female.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, trying to wrap your head around all this. If it’s been going on for this long, why haven’t you heard about it? “Are we sure they’re connected if there’s no pattern of victim? Usually men have a type when they do this kind of thing; the women usually look like an ex-lover who broke their heart, or their mom.”

You can practically hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “They were all killed the same way: poison to sedate them and then their hearts were carved out. And there was a purple azalea left in every single one of the victims’ chest cavities. So we’re pretty sure they’re connected.” Sarcasm drips copiously from his tone and you wince. Way to make a good first impression on the director of the FBI. “And it’s not a man. It’s a woman.”

This makes you perk up with interest. “Oh?” As a profiler for a branch of the FBI in Miami, you’ve handled your fair share of serial killers. It may make you sound insensitive, but you were only really interested in the female ones. Men were so boring and predictable. Women knew how to make it a challenge, and there was always some deep, underlying motive for why they did it. There was nothing you enjoyed more than piecing together that puzzle.

“They’re calling her The Witch. The poison used on the victims is like nothing we’ve ever seen before, so we think she must be making it herself. But since female serial killers are kind of your thing–”

You cut him off before you can think twice, thoughts whirling through your head. “How do you know it’s a woman? Cutting out a heart, that takes a lot of strength. Most female serial killers tend to use gentler methods, like poison, so it makes sense that there’s at least one woman involved. Are you sure she isn’t working with someone though? Lavinia Fisher would poison her victims and then her husband would finish the job.”

“How quickly can you get to Westview?” He asks, completely ignoring your question.

“Oh, you want me to go there?”

He scoffs. “Yes, Agent, we want you to go there. I’ve already informed your boss and he’s given his approval. No one has been better at catching the female killers than you, so we really need you on this. You can take the Miami jet as soon as you’re ready, but they want you there as soon as possible.”

“Will I be working with the Trenton branch?”

“Just the Westview PD for now. They’ve assured us that they have their best detectives on the case. But if you need backup, let us know and we can send in some more profilers. Whatever it takes to bring this woman to justice.” He hangs up without another word and you grab your to-go suitcase that you keep packed for times like these. You throw in a few extra sets of clothes just in case it takes longer than expected, and then you’re out the door, driving to Headquarters.

You walk into your boss’s office and knock on the door. The director of the Miami branch, Tony Stark, looks up at you. “Hope you packed some warm clothes,” he says and you chuckle. You definitely did not.

“Hayward said I could take the jet?”

Tony nods. “It’s out back and already fueled up. Good luck, kid. Be careful, okay?”

You scoff. “Careful? I’m always careful.” He fixes you with a stern look and you acquiesce. “I promise.”

“I don’t need to remind you what happened last time you worked on a case like this, do I?”

It hits you like a punch to the gut and you shake your head. “No, sir, you do not.” But you know he’s going to tell you anyway.

“That woman destroyed you,” he hisses. “You got so focused on finding her that you stopped eating and sleeping. The obsession completely consumed you.”

“I caught her, didn’t I?” You mutter, knowing full well that isn’t his point. He slams his hands down on his desk and you jump.

“She almost killed you,” he almost yells and your face twists at the memory.

The Scarlet Killer terrorized Miami about three years ago before you finally brought her down. At first, she would sneak into houses of families with twins and slit the parents’ throats and kidnap the kids, but the twins would always resist so she would end up killing them too.

After a while, she stopped caring about the twin aspect and started killing anyone with children.

You had spent days in the office, pacing and pouring over the evidence board, trying to make sense of it. There was no DNA anywhere, but there was also no sign of forced entry, so you figured that she was invited into the house somehow. The hunt for children made you think she had lost her own, or had some sort of abusive childhood that made her want to protect kids. She was possibly a twin as well, and very amicable if people were having her over willingly.

It took two months before you figured out the perimeter of her murders. She was making a hexagon shape with the houses of the victims. Hexagons can represent balance, so you figured she felt as if she was balancing out some score with the universe for something that had happened to her.

And then one fateful night, you realized where her next target was. A family had just moved into a house perfectly on the border of the hex, as people around the office started calling it, and they had twins.

You spent almost an entire week camped out in front of their house waiting for the Scarlet Killer to strike. You think during that time, you slept a total of ten hours. Hallucinations plagued you and you would doze off and then wake up babbling something about catching her. Agents would bring food by your car and beg you to take a break, but you kept your eyes strained on the house, determined that you wouldn’t let her get away with it again, determined to prove that you were right about where she’d be.

And you were.

Except the knocking that should’ve been on the front door of the house, the knocking that would inevitably lead to more death, was on your car window.

You had jolted awake to find a redheaded woman standing there, looking worried. You opened the door and got out to help her when she had pulled a knife out and stabbed you in the stomach.

Thank god she didn’t go for her usual M.O. of slitting throats.

You were able to weakly unholster your gun and take a shot at her as she was running away and by the yelp, you knew you had hit her. A consolation prize as your vision faded to black.

Somehow, you woke up two days later in a hospital room, Director Tony Stark by your bedside. They had caught the killer a block away thanks to the appendix your bullet had ruptured that rendered her unconscious, a woman named Wanda Maximoff, who had lost her twins in a horrible house fire, and made it a mission to try and replace them.

And her knife had missed anything important, and all you had was a nasty scar and the weariness from everyone else whenever there was a new female serial killer to catch.

“She didn’t kill me though,” you tell Tony, who rolls his eyes. “I’ll be careful. I won’t get too involved this time.”

He slides open a drawer and takes out a file and a business card that he holds out to you. You reach across the desk to grab the two and you scan the card.

Rio Vidal, Therapist, Westview. With an email and phone number.

You hold it up and raise an eyebrow. “You want me to see a shrink?” You already completed your mandated fifteen hours of therapy after the Maximoff incident and you weren’t eager to go back.

“You don’t have to, it’s just so you have an option. In case you feel yourself becoming too ‘involved.’”

You purse your lips but you slip it into your pocket and tighten your grip on the file. “Guess I’ll see you whenever we catch her.”

He salutes you and you make your way to the jet out back.

It’s a three hour flight and you spend your entire time pouring over the case file. You know there’s still some information that you’ll have to get from the Westview PD, like witness statements and exclusive photos that haven’t been released yet, but what you do have is brutal.

Photos of shriveled up bodies with barely any skin still on their bones, their cheeks hollowed out, like something sucked the life out of them. Not to be sexist, but you can tell why Director Hayward thought it was a woman.

Although there’s a gaping hole in their chests where a heart used to be, the cuts are neat, precise. And the blood has been completely cleaned up. What should be the bloodiest crime scene you’ve ever seen is void of any fluid, like the killer methodically mopped and bleached and cleansed the scene of everything. But this also means that the victims are dead before the heart is cut out, from the poison.

The most chilling thing is the singular, perfect flower placed in the cavity of their chest.

You flip through the toxicology reports but can’t really make sense of anything. One report says one chemical was the cause of death, another report says another. The levels of chemicals in the bloodstream are also different from victim to victim.

It reminds you of Jolly Jane Toppan, who would experiment with different medicines and chemicals to murder patients at hospitals.

Is the killer a nurse? A chemist? You’re able to figure out why she’s called The Witch, because it’s like she’s brewing up potions of sorts, but you have no idea why she would bother cutting their hearts out if she’s killing them with poison.

The precision of the blade also means that her hands are steady. Another reason she could be a nurse.

You flip through the pictures of all the victims – eleven, so far – and the first victim’s cut is just as accurate as the last victim. This woman is either a natural, or this isn’t the first time she’s killed.

Pulling out your computer, you search the database for any serial killer cases that match this same type of crime, male or female. You’re still not entirely convinced she’s working alone.

But there’s nothing. No cold cases, no open cases. She has truly shown up out of nowhere.

You tap your fingers to the tray table, your mind trying to make sense of the details for the rest of the flight.

When the plane lands, you’re ushered into an uber and taken to the motel where you’ll be staying. Your rental car is already in the parking lot. Even though Westview is a small town, it means a lot that they’re giving you all these accommodations.

Your room is complete with a kitchenette, a queen sized bed, and a good sized bathroom. You drop the files on the table, throw your suitcase in the bedroom, and grab your work bag before locking the door behind you.

The rental car is a small sedan that has a strange smell, but it does the job and you drive through the quaint twisting roads to get to the police station. You park up front, take a deep breath, and walk in.

No one stops you or asks what you’re doing here (no wonder this case hasn’t been solved yet) so you make your way to the back where you find the Chief’s office.

He’s a skinny man with a mustache, spots of something that looks like mustard on his shirt, talking to a woman with her back to you. All you can tell is that she has long, dark hair that flows down your back.

“Hi, excuse me?” You say, knocking on the glass door. The Chief stops and the woman turns around to face you and you’re momentarily struck by how attractive she is. “I’m Agent Y/N? The, uh, criminal profiler from Miami? The FBI sent me to help with The Witch case.”

“Oh, shoot, that’s right,” the man says, wiping his hands on his jacket before standing up. “Chief Phil Jones. This is Detective Agatha Harkness–” He motions to the woman standing there who smiles knowingly, raking her eyes up and down your body. “– our best. She’s been working this case day and night.”

“Any leads so far?” You ask her.

“Why don’t I show you what we have so far?” She offers and you nod, following her out of the office and trying not to look at her ass. She takes you into a different room with a bulletin board filled with pictures and string and post-it notes. You squint at it, trying to take everything in, while you hear more people enter the room behind you.

“So, Miami, what do you think?” A man taunts and a few others snicker at him. You ignore him, you’ve been used to this your entire career.

You’re still scanning the board when something catches your eye. The witness statements. They don’t corroborate with each other. From the six people that have seen something, they all agree that the killer had dark hair. But some say it was long, others say just past her shoulders. Some think she was taller and lean, others say shorter and just a little more filled out. There’s a detail from two witnesses that gives you pause though: they say the woman had a mask of sorts on the bottom of her face, almost like a skeleton. The other witnesses make no mention of not being able to see the killer’s entire face.

You tap the papers. “Why don’t the statements line up?”

“Surely you know how unreliable eyewitness testimony is,” Agatha drawls, and when you turn around, she’s watching you carefully.

You frown. “I do know, but it seems like there’s two different people here. So either we have a copycat, which would be unlikely due to there being no change in the level of detailedness from murder to murder, or–” You trail off, chewing on your lip. You’re waiting for someone, Agatha maybe, to finish the sentence, or to tell you you’re being crazy.

“Or?” She prompts like she’s daring you to go on. There’s a look in her eyes, a look you don’t quite recognize.

You give the men in the room a glance. Will they laugh? “I really think we’re dealing with two killers here. Working together. One poisons the victims, the other cuts out the heart. I thought it was a man and a woman, but it seems like two women. They’re obviously very close to each other, and they’ve got it down to an easy routine.”

“Why hasn’t anyone seen two women then?” Agatha asks, but you feel like she’s just guiding you to a realization, rather than criticizing your theory.

You hum, tossing the question around in your head. “Maybe…maybe because they want us to think there’s only one killer? They’ve fooled everyone, even the FBI. Easy to chalk it up to faulty witness statements.”

“Why wouldn’t they try to look alike then?” Agatha presses, and your brow furrows. It’s a good point.

The pictures of the mutilated victims on the board stare back at you while you look for anything you could’ve missed. “Are they toying with us? Do they want us confused? The poison, the cut-out heart, the flower left behind, the different descriptions, it’s like this is a game to them. They’re cocky, they feel confident that they can’t get caught. Maybe both of them are narcissists, but definitely are on the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum.”

“Why do you think they do it?” Agatha says in a hushed voice. You can’t help but notice that she seems excited.

Is that because she finally might be getting a break in her case?

“I don’t know,” you admit and she looks disappointed. You spin to face the board again. “There’s no obvious connection or pattern between the victims, so it doesn’t seem like there’s a personal vendetta against them. Nothing stands out about the locations either. It seems like they’re just killing for fun, right now.”

“That’s pretty dangerous,” she says, and you can feel the front of her body brush against your back. You’ve been so entranced that you didn’t even hear her notice her coming over. “That means anyone could be next.”

Goosebumps spread over your body at her hot breath on your neck, but her words sober you up. She’s right. You’re not able to rule out potential victims based on how many kids they have or don’t have, like with Wanda, or what they look like or don’t look like.

“Okay,” you say, nodding your head. “We need to send out a BOLO for two women with dark hair now. Put these descriptions out, tell them to keep an eye out for a skeleton mask? Hopefully we can get some tips and put a stop to this before anyone else gets hurt.”

“What should we call the other woman?” One of the male officers speaks up and you’re surprised that it’s an actual question.

Agatha watches you with interest while you think about it. “How about…Lady Death?” You offer and she gives a nod of approval. “Put a BOLO out for Lady Death and The Witch.”

You make copies of everything that’s on the board and paper clip them together to put in your bag. As you’re packing everything up to go back and leave to the motel (Tony would be proud of you for leaving the station at an acceptable time), Agatha comes over and leans on the table.

“What do you think their relationship is? Lady Death and The Witch,” she says, amusement lacing her tone when she says their nicknames.

You shrug. “Sisters, friends, wives? Maybe they’re just two crazy people who met each other and want to kill people.” She chuckles and studies you curiously.

“You know, we’ve had some other profilers come in, but none of them have been like you. You know your stuff.”

“Female serial killers are kind of my thing,” you say. “There’s just something about untangling the mystery that’s so much sweeter. Makes me feel…alive. Which I know sounds bad, because so many people have died, and I’m sorry.”

Agatha looks like she knows exactly what you’re talking about. “No, don’t apologize. It’s exciting, isn’t it? The exhilaration, the moment when you finally get what you want, what you’ve been working toward.” Her voice is low and you nod, leaning in before you can realize what you’re doing. Your gaze drops down to her smirk and then back to her blown-out pupils. “Do you think you’ll be able to find them?”

“Yeah, I do,” you breathe, and she looks positively delighted. Out of nowhere, the scar on your stomach stings and you grimace. Agatha looks at you, concerned but you brush it off. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You ask, standing up and slinging your bag onto your shoulder.

“See you then, superstar,” she says with a grin and watches you leave.

When you get back to the motel, you spread all the pictures and notes out, trying to connect some dots. You scribble down Friends? Sisters? Lovers? on a sticky note and press it to the wall.

Why do you think they do it? Agatha’s question still haunts you. You don’t want to believe that it’s just for fun, there has to be some meaning, some motive for poisoning and then physically removing hearts. There has to be some significance to the flower left behind.

But what is it?

Your stomach grumbles so you decide to take a step back and go pick up food from a restaurant in town. As you’re pulling out of the parking lot to come back to the motel with wings and french fries, you get a call from Tony Stark. You accept it, taking a sip from your cup quickly.

“Hey, Director,” you say.

“There she is! How’s it going?”

You shrug even though he can’t see you. “Not too bad. Just went and got dinner. See, I’m taking care of myself.”

He laughs like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard. “Glad to hear it. Any new leads in the case?”

“There’s two women, not one. They’re working together.” There’s silence on his end of the line for a second and you wonder if he heard you. “Did you–?

“Yeah, I got that. Shit, so you think you’re looking for partners? I don’t like this,” he says.

“I’m okay, I promise. What happened with Wanda won’t happen this time,” you reassure him as you turn back into the motel lot. “I’ll check in with you whenever you want. I’ll go see that shrink. I’ll be careful.” You’re worried that he’ll pull you off the case if he thinks you’re too obsessed. Your hyperfixation tendencies almost cost you your life, and you know Tony doesn’t want that to happen to you again. He’s become somewhat of a father figure to you since you started working there, and it’s touching how much he cares.

He hums in satisfaction. “I expect you to eat three meals a day and get at least five hours of sleep.” Before you can protest, he continues. “And I want you to make an appointment with that therapist. Just get ahead of your spiral, maybe talking about the case with someone removed will help you be more level-headed.”

“I will,” you vow. “Okay, just got back to the motel, I’ll talk to you later.” He says goodbye and hangs up. When you get out of the car with your food, the hair on the back of your neck stands up and your scar tingles.

Something feels off.

You get to your door to find it slightly ajar and you frown. You remember locking it. Maybe room service cleans at night?

“Hello?” You call, pushing it open. Taking a few cautious steps into the room, you scan from wall to wall looking for anything or anyone.

There’s no one there, nothing seems out of place except for your suitcase that is now on your bed. You tentatively walk over to it and unzip it, jumping back like you’re expecting something to pop out. Inside, you find all the clothes you packed gone, and entirely replaced by a new wardrobe. Pulling them out, you gasp when you find cashmere sweaters and silky blouses and comfortable but professional looking pants. There’s a bottle of perfume with the word “Thanatos” printed in perfect calligraphy and you take a whiff. It smells like flowers and wood at the same time and it makes you think of a forest.

So someone broke into your motel room just to give you some new clothes and perfume? You rustle through the rest of the suitcase and a piece of paper flutters to the floor.

Heart pounding, you lean down to pick it up. It’s the same sticky note that you put on your wall before you left to get food.

Friends? Sisters? Lovers?

Only now, the word ‘lovers’ is circled, with a small heart drawn. You drop the paper like you’ve been burned and run over to where all your case information is and you feel nauseous.

Nothing has been touched. Nothing is out of place.

Except for the single purple azalea resting on the middle of the table.

They were here.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x you #agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario x reader #agathario #rio vidal x reader #rio x reader #rio vidal x agatha harkness

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pbaz7 · 2 days ago

Text

CROSSING THE LINE — PART FOUR ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 5.5k

A/N: Alright this chapter is a little shorter than the other one's but the next few will be longer! We finally get to see the outcome of Azzi leaving 🫣. Please keep leaving comments and live reactions, they seriously make my day.

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November 2023

Paige had tried calling Azzi that morning, her fingers hesitating over the screen before she finally pressed the call button. The phone didn’t even ring before going straight to voicemail. She frowned, trying again, only to be met with the same result.

Frustrated but not willing to give up just yet, Paige decided to try Caroline, figuring Azzi might have told her where she was or needed her help if she did go somewhere. But when Caroline answered, her tone was firm, almost apologetic. “Paige, I can’t tell you,” she said. “Azzi asked me not to.”

“Seriously, Caroline?” Paige snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

Caroline sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I can’t. You’ll have to wait until she’s ready to talk to you, she just told me she needed to get away.”

Paige ended the call feeling even more irritated, a bitterness creeping into her chest. So she moped around the suite for the rest of the day, her phone always in hand, checking it incessantly. Every notification made her heart jump, only to have her disappointment and hurt settle deeper when she realized it wasn’t Azzi. At one point, desperate to get her mind off of things, Paige tried going to the gym. She pushed herself through a far too intense workout, hoping the burn in her muscles with each set would drown out the ache she felt in her chest, but it barely made a dent in her mood.

By the next day, when she still hadn’t heard from Azzi, her frustration had morphed into something darker. She didn’t want to admit how much it hurt—how much Azzi’s absence left her feeling hollow and unsettled—so she did what she always did when she didn’t want to deal with her emotions.

She found someone else.

The girl showed up that evening, and while Paige went through the motions, it was different this time. Her actions were almost mechanical, her words borderline cold. She made it clear from the beginning that this was just for sex, no strings attached, and she stuck to it. When they were done, there was no lingering, no casual conversation, no pretending like she would call her. Paige stood up from the bed and handed the girl her clothes without hesitation.

“You can go now,” she said casually, her tone devoid of any warmth, of any emotion at all for that matter.

The girl looked taken aback, but Paige didn’t care. By the time the door clicked shut behind the stranger, Paige was already strolling into the common area, her expression unreadable, acting as if nothing had happened.

This pattern repeated over the next two days, Paige’s encounters becoming increasingly detached and transactional. She barely even looked at the girls as they left, her mind elsewhere entirely.

Wherever Azzi had gone, the damage would already be done by the time she got back. Paige’s hurt had hardened into something sharper, and she wasn’t sure if she was angrier at Azzi for leaving or at herself for caring so much that she did.

…

Azzi stepped into the suite late Monday night, three days after she had left, with her bag slung over one shoulder and a determined expression on her face. She was tired from traveling back from wherever she had been, but the weariness didn’t dill her resolve. She needed to talk to Paige.

The sound of buttons being furiously pressed drew her attention to the couch, where Ice sat with her headphones on, deeply engrossed in the game in front of her. Azzi gave her a small nod as Ice looked up.

“Hey,” Ice greeted, briefly pausing the game.

“Hey,” Azzi replied, as she glanced toward Paige’s closed door.

Ice noticed the look on Azzi’s face and raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything at first. Azzi turned away, heading straight for Paige’s door. Her hand was already on the knob, ready to open it without knocking—something she’d done a hundred times before.

“I wouldn’t,” Ice said kind of frantically, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Azzi paused, glancing over her shoulder with a confused frown. “What?”

Ice leaned back on the couch, her game forgotten for the moment, and gave Azzi a serious look. “Just… trust me. Knock.”

Azzi hesitated, the unfamiliar warning sending a feeling of unease through her. Still, she trusted Ice enough to take her advice. So with a quick exhale, she knocked on the door.

For a few moments, there was only silence as she waited. Then the door swung open abruptly, and Azzi found herself face-to-face with Paige for the first time in days.

Paige stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, almost stoic. The usual warmth in her blue eyes was replaced by a cold detachment that sent a pang of guilt through Azzi’s chest. Azzi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, her gaze shifted past Paige to the girl lying on her bed.

The girl was half-covered by a blanket, her hair messy and her body language far too comfortable. When the sight hit Azzi she immediately felt like she was about to throw up and whatever words she’d been about to say died in her throat as she just stood there.

Paige’s expression didn’t change, her blank eyes meeting Azzi’s as if daring her to react. “What?” Paige asked flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Azzi’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her hurt was too sharp, too raw to translate into words. Instead, she just stood there, stunned and speechless

Paige scoffed, the sound harsh and dismissive, and without waiting for a response, she slammed the door in Azzi’s face.

Azzi stared at the closed door, still lingering as if she could somehow push through the moment. But the sight of Paige's expression and the girl on her bed played on a loop in her mind, each replay cutting deeper.

Ice watched the whole thing but didn’t say a word. She just watched Azzi, her usually teasing demeanor replaced by quiet concern. As Azzi turned away from the door, Ice’s gaze followed her retreat, but she made no move to intervene.

Azzi walked past Ice without meeting her eyes, her shoulders stiff, her thoughts racing with everything she had planned to say but couldn’t. Ice let her go, sinking back into the couch with a sigh, silently bracing herself for whatever fallout was brewing between the two.

…

The tension that had settled between Paige and Azzi after that wasn’t just a passing thing. It was a slow burn, spreading through every practice and team event. For the past week and a half, everyone witnessed the shift. Nothing overly dramatic, nothing that caused an outright scene, but something was different. The chemistry that once seemed unshakable between Paige and Azzi had been replaced with an uncomfortable distance, one that made even the simplest things feel like obstacles.

Nika and Aubrey worked tirelessly with one another in practice to offset the forced movements, calling plays and adjusting to shifts in defense. But the connection between Paige and Azzi was broken. The fluidity they had once shared was absent, and the team could feel it.

It wasn’t just the lack of contact between them at practice; it was the silence that filled the space between each word they exchanged. When Geno called out instructions or made them do something together, their responses were clipped, their focus seemingly more on avoiding the other than executing the plays.

Some of the team tried to pry, casual questions about how things were going between them, but each attempt was quickly shut down. Paige would just brush it off clipped comments that were emotionless, and Azzi wouldn’t say anything, simply turning away, her usual warmth replaced with a wall that many of them hadn’t seen before.

It wasn’t that Paige didn’t care—it was that she cared too much. She just didn’t know how to express it. She couldn’t even look at Azzi without feeling the ache in her chest, the gnawing sense of loss that had taken root after that morning when she woke up alone with no explanation. So, she continued to fill the void, as she always had. She barely even noticed the girls anymore, but she kept bringing them around, hoping that doing something, anything, might help drown out the silence between her and Azzi and stop the thoughts from swirling in her head.

She couldn’t quite articulate why she did it to the few teammates that asked—it wasn’t because she was interested in any of them and she definitely didn’t get anything from the exchanges. It was just that they provided a brief distraction her mind clawed at in desperation to ease the dullness she was feeling through her entire body.

Each time Paige came home with a new girl in tow, Azzi’s irritation only deepened. She would be on the couch or in the kitchen, trying her best to remain composed, but the moment Paige walked through the door, it was as if the air shifted. Azzi’s eyes would narrow, her jaw tightening, and if she was already sitting, her posture would become rigid. Sometimes, if she was on the couch, she’d roll her eyes so dramatically that it seemed painful, the silent judgment lingering between them. She’d scoff under her breath, but never utter a word to Paige, as if silence alone could speak louder than anything she could say. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to confront Paige; it was just that the words never came.

The hurt was so clearly written on Azzi’s face every time, but Paige couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. Her own heart was in too much turmoil to even care about whatever Azzi was feeling. The silence, while deafening, was easier than facing the rawness of everything they’d both been avoiding.

One morning, after another night spent at a girl’s house—another night of doing absolutely nothing this time around—Paige walked back into the suite, hoping to slip in unnoticed. Azzi was already in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in hand. She didn’t look up when the door clicked open, but the second Paige stepped inside, Azzi’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Nice at least you had the decency to actually stay the night with this one.” Azzi’s words were sharp, her tone biting.

The comment hit Paige like a jab to the ribs, the weight of the unspoken accusation hanging in the air between them. She froze in the doorway for a moment, the anger building in her chest before she exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing.

Paige’s voice was cold, her usual tone with Azzi these days. “You don’t really get to speak about that, considering your history Azzi.”

Azzi’s eyes snapped up, her expression twisted in confusion and irritation. “What the hell are you talking about?” she shot back. “I’m not the one who’s sleeping with the entire campus.”

Paige scoffed, the sound bitter as she shook her head. “Niice let’s pull the whole Paige sleeps around card” she muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever Azzi.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked into her room, slamming the door behind her, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment.

The silence that followed was harsh, until the faint shuffle of footsteps broke it. Ice stepped out of her room, brow furrowed as she took in the tension that had been hanging in the air. She glanced between Azzi and the door to Paige’s room, clearly concerned.

“What happened?” Ice asked, her voice low, but carrying the weight of her worry.

Azzi didn’t even look up, her gaze fixed on the empty space in front of her. “Nothing. Just another day,” she said, brushing off Ice’s question, trying to sound indifferent.

Ice crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. “Azzi, come on. I heard the door slam. That’s not ‘nothing.’ What’s really going on?”

Azzi exhaled sharply. “Ice it’s nothing I want to talk about, alright? Just drop it.”

Ice, who had spent days walking on eggshells around the two of them, wasn’t having it this time. She stepped forward, her expression soft but firm. “Look, Azzi, I get it. You two are in a rough spot right now. But I’m telling you, whatever you did to her you need to fix it.”

Azzi’s chest tightened at the implied accusation. She lifted her head, her tone defensive. “Why are you assuming I’m the problem here? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ice’s gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. “Look, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. I’m just putting two and two together Az. Paige was the one drowning herself in drinks that night. I had to basically carry her up the stairs when we got here. The next morning she came looking for you and she’s been like this since then…so.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched as the words sank in, but she didn’t let herself show how much they were affecting her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ice,” she muttered, eyes diverting from Ice’s gaze.

Ice let out a soft sigh, her frustration giving way to genuine concern. “Azzi You might not see it because you’re pissed at her right now or whatever, but you know Paige is the sweetest most selfless person we know. But whatever happened that night... it turned her into someone I don’t even recognize anymore. She just looks so sad or angry all the time and the few times she does crack a smile at someone it seems forced and out of obligation. That’s bigger than whatever argument you two are having. So please just fix it.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at Ice’s words, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of guilt and doubt about what she should be feeling. But she quickly shut it down, unwilling to listen, unwilling to accept that maybe she had played a part in all of this. Her mind set on her version of events. “Like I said, it’s not my fault,” she said sharply, as though trying to convince herself.

Ice’s voice grew softer, really trying to get through to Azzi. “You know Paige would do anything for you. She’d turn the whole damn world upside down if it meant you would be happy, and I know you know that because you teased her about it all the damn time. But right now whatever is going on, whatever happened I can tell she feels like you’re just... another person she’s lost and you know how she gets in her head about stuff like that Azzi.”

Azzi froze at Ice’s words, her heart beating harder in her chest. A part of her wanted to believe it. A part of her knew just how much she meant to Paige, But the bitterness inside her that had to watch Paige go back to sleeping around with random girls like it was nothing refused to let go. So she shook her head, a hard look in her eyes. “Paige treats me like every other girl she gets bored with, Ice. I doubt she’s as broken up about us not talking as you think.”

Ice didn’t even react to Azzi’s words. She had seen enough to know that they weren’t true. “Come on, you don’t even believe that,” she said, her tone calm but pointed. “You know exactly how she feels–you’re just not ready to admit it.”

Azzi didn’t respond. Instead, she let out a small, frustrated sigh and walked toward her room, shutting the door behind her without another word.

…

Even though Paige and Azzi weren’t in the best place—both of them carrying an unmistakable anger toward one another—they still cared about each other more than anything in the world. It was like they were tethered by an invisible string, a constant pull that neither could escape. No matter how far they drifted, they always came back, surfacing for a quick breath of air when they knew the other needed it most before going back under.

That’s why, when Azzi’s birthday rolled around, Paige couldn’t bring herself to ignore it. She knew how much Azzi had been dreading this day. They spent hours talking about it one day during the summer, the time where they would spend everyday getting to know one another. Azzi was spending her birthday without her family for the first time. So it didn’t matter how hurt, angry, and confused Paige was; she couldn’t let the day pass without doing something.

Azzi stepped into her room, the quiet stillness pressing against her in a way she hadn’t expected. Birthdays had always been bittersweet, but this one felt heavier—emptier. She had tried not to think about it all day, pushing the pang of loneliness aside. No family. No big celebration. Just another busy day of her telling the team she didn't want to celebrate.

Her gaze drifted toward her bed, and she stopped in her tracks. Sitting squarely on her pillow was a small, carefully wrapped box. The wrapping paper—adorned with the smiling faces of Elsa and Olaf—brought an involuntary laugh to her lips, soft and tinged with nostalgia. She knew instantly who it was from.

The memory of forcing Paige to watch Frozen—not once, but maybe 10 or so times—brought a bittersweet ache to Azzi’s chest. With a shaky breath, she walked over, picking up the box. The wrapping wasn’t perfect, corners slightly crumpled, but it was clearly Paige’s best effort. Azzi ran her fingers over it, a sad smile creeping onto her face.

She sat down on the bed, careful as she tore open the paper. Inside was a small jewelry box. When she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. Nestled in the box was a beautiful silver heart pendant, simple yet elegant, glinting softly in the light from her room.

Azzi’s fingers traced the smooth surface of the heart, her thoughts inevitably drifting to Paige. The way she smiled, the way she laughed, even the way she annoyed her most days– every detail of the blonde seemed to live in this small necklace. But her attention was soon drawn to the card that also rested on her pillow. Her chest tightened as she opened it, already bracing herself for what was inside.

The handwriting was unmistakably Paige’s—slightly messy but deliberate ‘Happy Birthday Az.’ But what truly made her breath hitch were all the signatures and words around. They were all from every single member of her family.

Tears welled up in Azzi’s eyes as she read the words they had written, her vision blurring. Paige had somehow managed to reach out to Azzi’s family—miles away—and have them all sign the card. She couldn’t even fathom how much effort Paige must have put into this, knowing how much it would mean to her.

A single tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, until they came freely. She clutched the card to her chest, her emotions unraveling as she whispered into the empty room, “God, Paige… why can’t you just let me hate you for a minute.”

In that moment, all the pain, the distance, the walls they’d built between them seemed to crumble just a little. Even when they weren’t talking, Paige had cared enough to remind Azzi she wasn’t alone. With trembling hands, Azzi unclasped the necklace and slipped it around her neck, fastening it securely. The weight of it against her skin was both comforting and overwhelming. And that, more than anything, left Azzi completely destroyed.

Despite this, the silence that lingered between them stayed the same. Both of them were experiencing feelings they had never felt before and couldn't find it in themselves to talk to one another. No words seemed like enough to express just how broken each of them were, just how much they both felt.

There was a hesitance that lingered between them, like an invisible wall neither knew how to break down. Pride? Fear? Hurt? Maybe all of it at once. Conversations that used to flow so naturally now felt like a daunting task, weighed down by all the unsaid feelings and misunderstood actions.

So, Paige and Azzi continued to exist in the same space, but their silence had become the loudest thing between them. The atmosphere in the apartment wasn’t as heavy but it still lingered and they both bore it in their own way. Paige had stopped bringing girls home, though it wasn’t out of any sense of compromise—more like resignation. They didn’t hold her attention, and it was more draining than anything to sit there and pretend to listen to whatever it was they had to say. The season kept her occupied, and though UConn had won their first two games, the chemistry between the players was strained. And it was clear to everyone—especially Paige and Azzi—that they were capable of so much more.

Then came the third game.

Despite the fact that UConn had won, Azzi played a game far beneath her usual standard. Missed shots. Bad decisions. A lack of the confidence that had once been her trademark. It wasn’t a total collapse, but it was jarring to watch it unfold. And everyone could feel it. The team had pulled through, but Azzi’s performance lingered in the air, like an unspoken question no one could answer.

Back in their shared suite, Azzi was isolated. She’d retreated to her room after the game, a rare moment when she didn’t have the usual fire in her eyes. The slow loss of her confidence throughout the game had been too much to handle, and as she scrolled through social media, the criticism rained down on her. The comments, the posts, the critiques—they all hit harder than they should have. The self-doubt crept in, overwhelming her. She knew she was better than this. She knew she could do better—but tonight, it felt like the world was telling her she couldn’t.

Paige, knowing exactly how much Azzi struggled with this kind of pressure knew Azzi would internalize it all, even when she shouldn't. So Once again coming up for a breath of fresh air even with the silence that lingered between them, Paige silently made her way to Azzi’s room, her hand reaching to open the door.

When she stepped inside, the sight of Azzi laying on her bed with her phone in hand, eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears, knocked the air out of her chest. Paige didn’t say a word. She simply moved toward Azzi, gently taking the phone out of her hand. Azzi didn’t fight her, didn’t protest, her hands too weak to stop Paige’s gentle movements. Paige locked the phone and set it aside before crawling under the covers next to her.

Azzi didn’t immediately respond. She kept her distance, staring at the pillow, her breathing shallow. Paige hesitated for just a moment before she carefully pulled Azzi on top of her, guiding her head to her chest. It was an unfamiliar gesture—but the silent bond they shared, the deep connection that tethered them to one another, made it feel like home the moment Azzi rested her head on Paige’s chest. Paige rubbed slow, soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her hand tracing over the familiar patterns as Azzi finally gave in, burying her face deep against Paige’s chest as the tears began to flow freely.

The silence between them was thick, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with everything they couldn’t say. Azzi’s emotions—about the game, about herself, about everything she had been holding in—poured out in the form of quiet sobs. Paige didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just held her, feeling the warmth of Azzi’s body pressing against hers, reminding her of everything they still had, everything they could have.

As the time ticked by, Paige continued rubbing soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her touch slow and steady. The tension in Azzi’s body began to fade, her cries growing softer with each passing second. Paige could feel the weight lifting from Azzi’s shoulders, even if just a little, as she finally started to relax. Eventually, Azzi’s breathing evened out, slow and steady, and before long, the crying ceased altogether. The silence in the room deepened, and Paige felt Azzi’s body become still in her arms.

When Paige finally realized that Azzi had fallen asleep, her breath soft against Paige’s neck. Paige hesitated, a portion of her brain not wanting to disturb her, the other portion loving the way Azzi felt against her chest. But as much as she wanted to stay, to keep holding Azzi and never let go, she knew she had to leave. Slowly, carefully, Paige tried to extricate herself from Azzi’s grasp.

As she moved, Azzi, still in a deep sleep, unconsciously gripped onto Paige’s shirt, her hand clutching the fabric tightly, as if trying to keep her there. This made Paige’s heart ache. She could feel the pull of Azzi’s need, but as much as it hurt to tear herself away, Paige knew she couldn’t stay.

With a quiet sigh, Paige gently unwrapped Azzi’s hand from her shirt, and though every part of her wanted to stay in that bed, stay in that moment with Azzi, she slowly slipped out from under the covers. She stood beside the bed for a moment, looking down at Azzi’s peaceful face, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Azzi’s forehead. It was a kiss full of tenderness and care, an unspoken promise that, no matter how broken they were, there was still something between them that could be fixed.

She pulled away, her heart aching, and shut the door softly behind her.

As Paige walked toward her room, she caught sight of Ice standing in the hallway, her eyes immediately locking with Paige’s. The concern in Ice’s gaze was unmistakable, but it was the sadness in Paige’s blue eyes that struck her the hardest. Ice saw it. She saw how badly Paige was hurting, even if Paige was trying to hide it.

Without saying a word, Ice opened her arms, a silent offer of comfort. Paige hesitated for a moment, her chest tightening, before she reluctantly stepped into the embrace. She forced herself to hold it together, unwilling to break down in front of anyone. She stayed still, but her arms were stiff, her mind racing with all the things she wanted to say to Azzi, but couldn’t.

Eventually, Paige pulled back, the hug lingering just a moment longer than she wanted, and gave Ice a weak smile, barely more than a fleeting, pained expression. Without another word, she walked past Ice, retreating into the quiet of her room.

…

After that night, the silence between Paige and Azzi clearly wasn’t one of anger anymore. It was much softer, filled with longing, a quiet understanding that neither of them could fully name. They missed each other.

It started off slow. It went from both of them keeping their doors shut all day to them leaving them open. They would sit in the common area, not speaking, but neither one of them moving to leave. It was as if the space between them was hanging on a delicate balance, each of them too cautious to disturb it.

Paige would catch glimpses of Azzi absentmindedly playing with the necklace she had given her, the one she only took off for games and practices now. It was a small gesture that spoke volumes. Every time Paige saw it, a slight smile would tug at her lips.

They both had waved the white flag, they just didn’t know how to break the silence.

Paige now sat on the edge of Nika’s bed, her hands pressed into her lap, fingers twitching with restless energy. She couldn’t meet Nika’s eyes, even as her twin studied her with a knowing gaze as she was trying to get Paige to finally talk about what happened.

“Paige,” Nika said again softly, her voice a calm counterpoint to the hecticness that had been brewing inside of Paige. “I know something’s been bothering you. It’s been weeks, just talk to me so we can figure it out.”

Paige just shrugged, eyes flicking to the window as if the answer could be found in the dull gray light outside. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, Nika.”

But Nika wasn’t convinced. Besides Azzi she knew Paige better than anyone, knew the signs when Paige was holding something in. This wasn’t the usual “I’m fine.” This was different—subdued, like Paige was a thread stretched too thin, about to break.

“Paige,” Nika insisted, her voice softer now, “stop shutting me out. I can tell something’s been going on with you. We’ve been through too much together for you to hide it from me.”

Paige’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting to the floor. There was a tremor in her chest, and she fought to keep it contained. She wasn’t ready to talk, wasn’t ready to let anyone see the cracks in her armor just yet.

Nika didn’t push too hard, but she didn’t let up either. She sat down next to Paige, close enough that the warmth of her body was a quiet comfort. “Come on,” Nika coaxed, her voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you’re not fooling anyone anymore. Definitely even me.”

Paige exhaled sharply, then, almost as if the words had been building up in her chest for too long, she whispered, “We slept together.”

Nika blinked, not sure if she’d heard her correctly. She tilted her head, voice steady but curious. “What? Who?”

Paige’s gaze snapped to the floor, her throat tightening as she repeated it, a little louder this time. “Azzi. Me and Azzi…we slept together.”

Nika absorbed the words, the weight of them sinking in slowly. She had seen the chemistry between Paige and Azzi for a while now, had seen the way they glanced at each other, the quiet touches when they thought no one was watching. It wasn’t surprising, exactly, but hearing Paige admit it was different.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Nika said, voice soft but not judgmental. “Why is that a bad thing? It should be good, right?”

The question hung in the air, and that was when it happened. A single tear, slow and hesitant, escaped from Paige’s eye, tracing a path down her cheek; because yes, it should’ve been good. It should’ve been amazing. Paige’s hand instinctively went to her face, as if trying to catch the tear, but she couldn’t stop it. She felt it—felt everything—the confusion, the hurt, the abandonment all spilling over in that one small, silent tear.

Paige’s chest tightened, her breath catching as her walls finally crumbled in the quiet of Nika’s room. “She was gone the next day,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The words felt like rocks in her mouth, heavy and painful. “She... she just left me. When I woke up, she was gone.”

The floodgates opened then, the words pouring out faster than she could contain them. Her shoulders shook as another tear slipped free, and then another, until the tears were flowing in uninvited yet unstoppable. Paige’s chest heaved as the weight of it continued to press down on her, the pain she had been holding in finally spewing out.

Nika didn’t say anything at first. She simply reached out, pulling Paige into her arms with a tenderness that only she could offer.

“It’ll be okay, twin,” Nika whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’ll be okay.”

Paige couldn’t answer. She could only let herself break, the sobs wracking her body as Nika held her close, whispering assurances over and over again. The comfort of Nika’s arms right now was the only thing that kept Paige from completely losing herself to the turmoil inside her, she missed Azzi so much.

After a while she fell asleep in Nika’s bed, the weight of her emotions finally easing in the stillness of the room.

Nika didn’t disturb her. She let Paige sleep, knowing how much she needed the rest. After a few minutes, Nika gently moved away from the bed, making sure not to wake her. She grabbed a piece of paper from the nearby desk and scribbled down a quick note:

Wanted to let you sleep. Text me if you need anything. I'll be around. -Twin

With a soft sigh, Nika placed the note on the pillow next to Paige before she quietly exited the room.

The rest of the suite felt too quiet as Nika walked to the common area, her mind racing trying to figure out how to fix the situation. She needed to do something. There was only so much she could do by offering comfort. She needed to handle the bigger picture.

She pulled out her phone, her fingers moving with purpose. Within seconds, she created a group chat with the rest of the team, making sure Paige and Azzi weren’t included. The message was simple:

Team meeting in 20 minutes. Can’t be in my suite.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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lovesturni0l0s · 12 hours ago

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FLUFFMAS DAY 21/22: chris realizes he does want to get married

seeing his gf as a bridesmaid makes him realize that maybe getting married wouldn’t be so bad

wc: 1.1k

lmk if u wanna be tagged 🫶🏻

a/n: so sry this didn’t get out yesterday i was super busy 😭

dividers by the lovely @bernardsbendystraws

chris’s POV:

I had never understood the hype around weddings, or even the need for them honestly. It all seemed like too much fuss and stress for one day, and if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone I didn’t need to declare it in front of hundreds of people that I didn’t really like.

But when Y/N asked me to be her date to her friend’s wedding, where she was a bridesmaid, I couldn’t say no. Not to her. Even if I didn't enjoy weddings or having to get all dressed up I was gonna go and pretend to have fun because I knew it would make her happy.

On the day of the wedding I showed up to the venue a little early so I could find her before the ceremony began. I texted her telling her where I was so she could come find me, knowing I would get lost looking for her on my own.

“Chris!” I heard her call from behind me and when I turned to her my jaw fell in shock. I had seen her dressed up before but not like this and I was in awe of how gorgeous she looked. I stood frozen, staring at her as she walked up to me laughing, “Hi handsome” she smiled.

“I am the luckiest man alive” I smiled as I gently grabbed her waist, pulling her close to me, “You look absolutely stunning baby.” I smiled at her. “Thank you love” she blushed, “you clean up pretty nice handsome.” She said as she adjusted my tie. “Only for you” I winked, “As much as I would love to stay with your corny ass I do have bridesmaids duties I gotta get to so I’ll see you in a bit.” She said as she kissed me before heading off.

I managed to find a seat with some of Y/N’s friends that I had met a few times and caught up with them while we waited for the ceremony to start. Once the ceremony began my eyes were immediately locked on Y/N as she gracefully walked down the aisle with one of the groomsmen.

She was carrying a small bouquet of flowers in her hand and her smile brightened when we locked eyes across the rows of people. Throughout the entire ceremony my eyes never left her. In their vows the couple talked about their love for each other and how they couldn’t wait for the start of the rest of their lives.

Listening to their vows as I watched Y/N I knew she was it for me, as I saw her smile at her friend, her eyes flicking to mine for a moment, I wondered how I had ever not known I wanted to marry her. She could have a fancy castle wedding with a thousand people if she wanted, and I would be there with a smile on my face, grateful to be loved by her.

We spent the rest of the night dancing and laughing with her friends under twinkly lights that made her eyes glow. “You are so beautiful.” I said quietly as she wrapped her arms around my neck as we swayed to a slow song. “Thank you my love.” She smiled, kissing me gently. Her glowing presence captivated all of my attention.

The next day I found a jewelry store and with the help of her best friend I found a beautiful ring that I hoped she would love. When I came home, the ring tucked in my pocket, she was still asleep in bed. “Morning pretty” I whispered as I laid back down next to her, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Mhm, morning” she whispered, half asleep, “I brought you coffee and your favorite muffin” I smiled, knowing she’d wake up. “Food” she said as she stuck her hand out, eyes still shut, “kiss first” I teased as she slowly opened her eyes. “No gross I have morning breath” she groaned, hiding her face, “and I don’t give a flying fuck” I laughed as I leaned over, kissing her gently before handing her her food.

I laid with her as she slowly woke up, with the help of her coffee and muffin, “We got plans today, I need you to put on one of your pretty sundresses and be ready in two hours.” I told her, “What are we doing?” She asked, “that’s for me to know and you to find out baby.”

Once she was dressed and ready I took her to a secluded spot on the beach, “What are we doing Chris?” She asked, confused. “Well I know the beach is your favorite place so I figured this was the perfect spot” I smiled at her confusion, “perfect spot for what?” She asked, laughing.

“To ask you to spend forever with me” I smiled as I got on one knee, pulling the small velvet box out of my pocket. “Chris?” She said in shock, her hand flying to her face to cover her bright smile.

“Y/N, I have spent the last three years of my life having the pleasure of loving you and being loved by you. You have become my favorite person and everyday I learn something new about you that makes me fall even more in love with you. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out, and when I saw you standing at that altar yesterday I knew I would be an idiot if I didn’t marry you. Nothing in this world would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you so Y/N, will you marry me baby?” I asked, smiling up at her through tears.

“Yes! Oh my god! Yes I’ll marry you Chris!” She said as she choked through tears while I slid the ring on her finger, wrapping my arms around her waist as she clung to me. “Oh my god! I love you so much, holy shit!” She laughed in disbelief as I held her tight against me.

Nick, Matt, and her best friend burst into cheers, as she turned to them, smiling in shock. “I knew you wanted someone to take pictures and I figured who better than Nick?” I smiled as she wiped her tears. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you Chris.” She smiled as I kissed her, her lips pulled up into a smile against mine.

And even though I always said I would never cry at my wedding, when I watched her walk down the aisle towards me, I couldn’t help it .

tags🫶🏻: @bernardsbendystraws @colorthecosmos444 @sturnihoelooo @endereies @matts-myloverboy @hoes4matthew @sturniololuv08 @emely9274 @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @lovergirl4gracieabrams @conspiracy-ash @h3arts4harry @17twelch17 @iluvchriswglasses @prettyybunnyy

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #mathew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo

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lexirosewrites · 12 hours ago

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I look forward to slick Sunday every week it's always so fun! Had a fun little idea that's slightly different too!

O!Steve is known to be home alone a lot but what if it wasn't because both his parents were shitty, just his dad. People assume Steve is all alone but every year when December starts Steve gets to pick up his favorite woman in the world, next to his best friend Robin, from the airport and after months away he's holding his mom so so tight.

Mrs. Harrington comes home every year because she never wants her sweet sweet pup to be alone during their favorite holiday. They decorate, her inside and him out because he loves hanging the lights all over the house, they bake cookies and cakes and brownies and while she wraps presents and shops in the city he delivers them all around Hawkins. It's their little tradition but now tradition gets to be shared.

Steve invites B!Robin, A!Nancy, O!Jonathan, B!Argyle, the pups and of course A!Eddie and all their parents (except Argyle because they don't talk much anymore but he's chill with it, he loves Joyce and calls her mom) over for Christmas this year and everyone agrees because they don't ever want Steve to be alone. Eddie is the first to show up, he arrives early in the morning with Wayne because he's eager to see the omega who stole his heart and he's been trying to ask to court officially for a year now, and when they knock a sleepy, bleary Steve answers the door and he just smiles and says "My Eddie." He just woke up so he doesn't even notice he let his inner thoughts out instead of his normal response.

Eddie? Over the freaking moon. He knows Steve was probably trying to tell him good morning but he just smiles and purrs, stepping inside and Steve just falls into his chest because he's sleepy and happy and content because now not only is the Alpha he loves here, his pack will be around later AND his mom is home. It's shaping up to be the best Christmas ever. Wayne is just chuckling as he closes the door behind them and that's when a soft and sweet scent is noticable and voice calls out. "Steve? Pup who's at the door?"

"It's my Alpha Mom!"

Eddie. Is. Ecstatic. Steve thinks of him as his Alpha. Fuck. Yes! He can't resist covering Steve in his scent as the heel clicks get closer and Dahlia Harrington, her breakfast apron on and spatula in hand, comes to the foyer and is smiling so bright. "Hello sweetheart! Oh Stevie you know how to pick them, the handsome Munson Alpha? My lucky pup. Come now everyone, breakfast is almost ready and I'm making French toast. We have lots to do before the rest of the pack gets here!" She takes Wayne's hand and leads him away while Steve and Eddie are still curled around each other by the door.

And later that day when their pack arrives, everyone gets to meet Steve's mom and they all adore her. There's games, music, dancing, presents and so much good food. The Harrington house is full of love and laughter and joy and if that night when Steve is surrounded by all his pups in a big nest next to the Christmas tree, his mom asleep in their nest upstairs with the other parents of the pack, Eddie right against his back and the rest of his friends bracketed around the pups to protect them and their pack Omega he tells Eddie to bite him. He doesn't even care their courtship was never official, he doesn't need tradition when he has Eddie's love.

The best Christmas present of all that day? Having his family together and his Alpha's mark. He's so excited for next Christmas.

what if i cry🥲

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks #anon asks

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slut4b1ls · 1 day ago

Text

—NOTICED (part 2)

BILLIE EILISH X F!READER

summary: One morning you wake up to a mail from Billie Eilish’s manager asking you to star in her new music video..(continuation; check out the previous parts)

prologue part one part two part three (soon)

As the door to the garderobe opened, Billie took a step back and a blonde, middle-aged woman entered the room. "Hello, so sorry I’m late. I’ll be retouching your makeup" she said. "We need to be quick because the shooting starts in 30". It was the makeup artist you two had completely forgotten about. You glanced at Billie, but her eyes were still focused on the woman speaking. Had she really been flirting with you a moment ago?

After retouching Billie, the woman led you to a separate room. The entire time she was doing your make up, you remained quiet. Billie’s makeup was already finished, so they were just waiting for you.

When she finished, you thanked her and hurried to the main room where the shoot was taking place. As you entered, you immediately exchanged glances with Billie, but she simply smirked and looked down at her shoes. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t mad at how quiet she was now, but you’d also be lying if you said it didn’t drive you crazy in the best way possible.

"Okay, listen" the manager yelled so everyone in the room could hear. "As you know, the script for the video is simple. Everyone stick to the plan, and there will be no issues". Once she finished, everyone took their places and you started to walk toward Billie. "You ready, baby?" She asked as you got close enough. You were so stressed by the whole filming process that you didn’t even notice the nickname she called you. You were in the same white space where the mv for Lunch had been filmed, and the first scene required just a simple wooden chair.

As all the cameras were set up and ready, you did a test shoot where they walked you through the first scene. Billie was supposed to sit on the chair while you stood behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders, slowly leaning in closer, letting your hands linger on her further. The thoughts of it were so overwhelming for you, but you knew what you signed for, it was the thing that happened moments earlier that made you even more nervous to do the scene. You tried to shake off the thoughts and convice yourself that the whole situation wasn’t what you thought it was and get the job done.

When the actual filming of the scene began, you performed as you were told to. After repeating the scene multiple times, finally getting through, the team gathered around to see the final playback. Billie stood up from the chair and leaned toward you. "You did really good. Are you getting nervous again?" She said with a smirk "I can feel you’re tense." You ignored her comment, as you were already weak in your knees, and you went into doing the next scene.

Each scene was getting even more intense, especially with the comments Billie made during them. After some, it was finally a time for a lunch break. The team had ordered some food for you and Billie that you were supposed to eat in her garderobe. The two of you began walking toward the room in complete silence, the tension still present in the air.

As you entered the space, Billie grabbed the packed food that was waiting on her vanity table and opened it. It was a selection of veggie burgers she specifically asked for. Handing one to you, she took a seat at the couch, manspreading casually as she opened hers. "Hope you will like it. I picked them for us from my favorite spot." She said, glancing at you. "Oh I’m sure they are delicious" you replied shyly.

You two started eating, enjoying your food as Billie spoke. "I hope the filming isn’t too overwhelming for you. That’s the last thing I’d want" she said, her tone gentle. "You really seemed nervous while we were on the set. If you need help calming down, I’m sure we can work it out."

You stared at her as she smirked, choosing not to say anything. "Okay, just keep in mind that I’m open to help anytime." She added with a wink. You remained froozen, unsure of how to react.

The moment was inturrupted by the manager who came in to inform you both that the filming will resume in 20 minutes. Until then, you had some free time.

When the manager left, Billie stood up, leaving the empty food container behind, and walked over to her vanity to check her reflection in the mirror. As she looked at herself, you decided to speak up.

"Just so you know, I’m so thankful for this whole opportunity. This feels so unreal to me. You truly are an inspiration, and I have admired your work for so long now."

Billie turned her gaze toward you, soft laugh escaping her lips "Yeah?" she softly asked. "You are a fan of mine?"

"I guess you could say that." You replied, your tone softening. "You know what? I really insist on you trying my calming technique." Billie said with a playful smirk "I’m sure it will make the whole experience even better"

"Maybe it’s not such a bad idea, I will definitely think about it." You said with a smile. "Better think quick. We only have about 18 minutes left until someone will interrupt us again." Billie said as she walked toward you.

a/n: It’s here!! Sorry for keeping you waiting, hope you like it and as always let me know what you think. Next part will be probably the one you will like the most, be ready.. 👀💋

tags: @hkkuugu @certifiedwomenlover @hopingforgoodblogs @canthelpit0 @billiesbabygirll @mybluebossanova @slutforabbyanderson

if you would like to be added to my taglist to be updated when I post a new fic, let me know!!

masterlist.

#noticedseries #billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #billie x reader

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archivequinn · 17 hours ago

Note

I loved your breaking up angst fic! Can I request an angst with a happy ending fic.

Eddie and Reader get into an argument and he does a really sweet gesture to make up for it.

I love your fics and always look forward to reading them when they pop up on my dashboard 🥰

Hello lovely! I hope your day is going very well. Your kind words make me very happy and I'm glad you like my fic. I wish I was able to write a fic like you wanted and I hope you enjoy reading it. I look forward to your comments. 🩷

Summary: Eddie forgets about your anniversary and makes up the night for you after you argue with him. angst to happy ending, fluff.

credit for dividers: @saradika-graphics

While waiting for Eddie to come home, you excitedly rolled up your sleeves to prepare for a day that would make him feel how special it was to you. Since the morning, there had been only one thought on your mind: celebrating your anniversary perfectly. You decided to prepare everything with both great care and love to make it flawless.

First, you headed to the kitchen. You thought about Eddie's favorite dishes: maybe the creamy pasta he's loved since childhood, or that amazing dessert you both recently discovered together. You took out the ingredients from the fridge and carefully began the preparations. As the clinking sounds of pots and pans filled the kitchen, you imagined how the evening would unfold. Once the food was ready, you elegantly plated it—creating a meal Eddie could never say no to.

Afterward, you moved on to setting the dinner table. You chose a soft champagne-colored tablecloth, something both romantic and elegant. On top, you placed tall white candles. When the idea of decorating the candles with red rose petals crossed your mind, a sweet sparkle lit up in your eyes. Once the petals were scattered across the table, it transformed into a work of art. The plates and silverware were meticulously arranged—every detail thoughtfully designed so Eddie would notice how much effort you'd put into this.

Next, it was time to get yourself ready. You picked that stunning dress—the one you were sure Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of every time he saw you wearing it. A long, elegant gown... perhaps black satin or one with lace details in a deep burgundy—whatever you chose, you felt incredible in it. As the dress brushed lightly against the floor, you twirled in front of the mirror and smiled at your reflection.

You began applying your makeup. A subtle eyeliner to highlight your eyes, a warm pink blush on your cheeks, and that favorite lipstick you loved. Once your makeup was finished, the mirror didn't just reflect your image; it showed someone who would absolutely take Eddie’s breath away. You styled your hair the way Eddie always adored: maybe natural waves or an elegant updo—whichever you chose, you felt absolutely beautiful at that moment.

For the background music, you put on the playlist you and Eddie had created together. Your favorite songs as a couple brought back happy memories one by one. The metal riffs resonated with the energy Eddie always brought whenever he picked up his guitar. But the playlist also had one or two slow, romantic songs Eddie had sneakily added as a surprise for you. Remembering how Eddie had thought of you while making this playlist brought an uncontrollable smile to your face.

When everything was finally ready, you gave the living room one last glance. The table glowed in the candlelight, soft music played in the background, and the delicious aroma of food filled the air. And of course, there was you—prepared and brimming with excitement for this special moment. Thinking about the expression on Eddie’s face as he walked through the door helped calm your nerves just a little.

The hours ticked by, and Eddie’s arrival was drawing closer. Everything was set, and now all that was left was to wait for him. Before greeting him, you took a few deep breaths and checked your reflection in the mirror one last time. Tonight had to be unforgettable.

Hours had passed. At first, you eagerly waited for the moment Eddie would walk through the door, but over time, anticipation slowly turned into despair. You had meticulously prepared the meal, elegantly decorated the table, and considered every detail, yet Eddie was nowhere to be found. Your phone remained silent; no messages, no explanations. It silently tore at you.

Initially, you tried to console yourself. "Maybe he’s stuck in traffic," you thought. "Maybe work ran late, but he’ll definitely come." However, as the hours dragged on, disappointment began to set in. You were hungry but kept waiting for Eddie. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold out. Finally, letting go of your dream of sitting down and sharing the meal with him, you reached for the food on the table. The first bite felt like a lump stuck in your throat; this was a meal you were eating alone. The candles in the center of the table were still burning, but instead of a romantic ambiance, the flickering light filled the room with a melancholy loneliness.

When the meal was over, your hand reached for the wine bottle. "I’ll have a glass or two; it’ll help me relax," you thought. With the first sip, memories of clinking glasses with Eddie flashed before your eyes. Glass after glass, the wine bottle on the table was soon halfway empty.

The makeup on your face started to feel like a burden weighing on you. You hurried to the mirror and wiped it off. Staring at your bare face in the mirror, you noticed the disappointment etched into your eyes. The hair you had styled so carefully just hours ago was now disheveled, and your spirit was completely drained.

Now, you sat alone at the head of the table. Your eyes grew heavy with fatigue, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to give up waiting. "Maybe the door will open any moment now," you thought. Resting your head on the table, everything began to blur like a dream under the dim, flickering candlelight. The wine’s slight haze made your eyelids grow heavier.

At that moment, the lock on the door turned. Eddie stepped inside with his key, noticing the smell of wine that filled the room and the candles nearly burned out. As he took a step into the room, he saw the remains of the meal on the table, the wine bottle nearly empty, and you, with your head resting on the table, dozing off. His eyes scanned the details on the table in surprise: the elegant arrangement, the rose petals, the half-melted candles, and you sitting there in silence. Eddie’s expression changed rapidly—surprise, guilt, and a hint of panic flickered across his face.

He stepped quietly, trying not to disturb you, and approached you cautiously. "Sweetheart…?" he called softly, but as he saw your eyes fluttering open, he crouched down beside your chair. "What happened here? Are you… are you okay?" he asked, looking at you with concern.

You brought your hands to your face and groaned lightly, still groggy from sleep. For a brief moment, Eddie’s puzzled expression mingled with your own. But as the depth of your sadness and disappointment resurfaced in your mind, you let out a deep, sorrowful breath. "Why were you so late?" you murmured, your voice slightly cracked, tinged with a trace of reproach.

Eddie’s face grew more serious. "I’m sorry… work ran late, and I lost track of time," he explained, raising his hands in helplessness. "But… what’s all this? The table? The candles? What’s it for?"

Seeing how unaware he was only amplified the depth of your disappointment. You fixed your eyes on him, but for a while, no words came out. Eddie could sense that there was a storm brewing beneath your silence. "What’s wrong? Please, tell me," he said, more insistently this time, but still in a gentle tone.

Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke the truth. "Today was our anniversary, Eddie," you said, the words feeling as if they were stuck in your throat. "And you forgot." Your voice was calm, but the hurt it carried was enough to devastate Eddie. His eyes widened, his hands trembled for a moment, and deep regret etched itself onto his face.

“Oh… no,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead with one hand. When he raised his eyes from the table back to you, it seemed as though he finally understood all your preparations, your effort, and ultimately, your broken heart.

"Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I forgot… no, how could I forget something like this?" he muttered, his voice cracking. But you turned your head away, avoiding his gaze.

Eddie stood before you, his face filled with remorse. Meanwhile, you avoided his eyes with a look that was both hurt and a little angry. You glanced briefly at the melted candles on the table, the empty wine bottle, and the darkened plates, then turned back to Eddie. As you tried to suppress your disappointment, his guilt-ridden expression only hurt you more.

"How could you forget something like this, Eddie?" you said, your tone now unrestrained in its hurt. "I mean… our anniversary… It was something special. And you..." You had done everything for him, planned the entire evening, but he… he had forgotten. This reality made you feel worthless.

Eddie took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair as if trying to straighten his thoughts. "I know, you’re right. But work has been so busy, and I lost track of time. I could have called, yes. But—" he began, but you raised a hand to stop him.

"You lost track of time?" you snapped, your brows furrowed. "I planned the entire day, hour by hour. I set up the table, cooked the food, played your favorite playlist. But what did you do? You just showed up late. You didn’t even call to let me know." Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you didn’t want to appear weak in front of Eddie. So, you quickly wiped them away and took a deep breath.

Eddie spread his hands, his voice filled with regret but also tinged with helplessness. "Sweetheart, I didn’t realize how important this was. If I had known—"

"If you had known?" you interjected, your voice rising. Eddie, with his usual calm demeanor, tried to absorb your anger, but that only made you more furious. "Eddie, this is our anniversary! How many times did we talk about it? How many times did you say, ‘Let’s go all out this year’? And what happened?" By the time you finished your sentence, you were nearly out of breath.

Eddie lowered his head, his gaze falling to the floor. It was a gesture he always made when he felt guilty. But instead of calming you, it only fueled your frustration. "Yes, I forgot," he finally said, his tone quiet and subdued. "And it’s entirely my fault. But… please, try to understand. Work… my mind has been all over the place. There’s just been so much going on..."

"There’s always an excuse, isn’t there?" you said, getting up abruptly and pacing around the table. Eddie flinched slightly at your movement. "Eddie, just one day, just a few hours—was it so hard for me to be your top priority? Was it so impossible to set your work aside and put me first?"

Eddie’s eyes softened as he heard the slight tremor in your voice, but you were too angry to notice just yet. "I… I let you down, I know. But I don’t want to make you feel unimportant. Because to me, you’re… everything," he said. However, his words weren’t enough to soothe you in that moment.

"Yes, Eddie, and the person you call your 'everything' was left alone on an anniversary," you retorted. "How ironic, isn’t it?" Your eyes filled with tears again, but this time, you chose to stay silent, not wanting to say anything you might regret. You sat back down and moved away from Eddie as he tried to reach for you.

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded slightly. "Look, you’re right. You’re completely right. But please, give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you tonight. Just hear me out."

Eddie stepped closer. "I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t stand seeing you this upset," he said, placing his hands gently near yours.

In that moment, beneath your hurt, you still felt the love you had for Eddie. But you weren’t ready to show it to him just yet. "Let’s see what you’ll do, Eddie Munson," you murmured. "It’s going to take a real miracle to make up for tonight."

Eddie tried to smile, but the guilt was still evident on his face. "I’ll make that miracle happen," he said with determination.

He paused for a moment, and a familiar mischievous smile appeared on his face. As you raised an eyebrow and looked at him skeptically, Eddie had already started heading toward the kitchen.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" you asked, following after him. But he was already in the middle of the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and opening and closing the fridge. When you saw a plate of chocolate, some flour, and milk on the counter, your eyebrows arched even higher.

"I’m going to make something for you with my own hands. How about some chocolate pancakes?" he said, a hopeful expression in his eyes. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "Chocolate pancakes at midnight? Eddie, seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring your smile back," he said as he started organizing the kitchen like a professional chef. You watched him, trying to keep the serious expression on your face, but Eddie’s clumsiness was mildly amusing. When a bit of flour ended up in his hair, you struggled to suppress a small smile.

As Eddie mixed the ingredients, your playlist continued playing in the background. When one of your favorite songs came on, Eddie stopped stirring and turned to you. "Okay, wait, isn’t this our song?" he said excitedly, extending a hand toward you.

"What are you doing, Eddie?" you asked, trying to maintain your stern expression.

"There’s a way to make this better," he said, taking your hand. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, my lady? Let’s make the rest of this night a little brighter." "Eddie, weren’t you making pancakes?" you asked, but he had already pulled you into the middle of the kitchen. As the song continued to play, Eddie’s warm hands found their way around your waist. "A quick break, then the pancakes will be ready," he whispered, spinning you gently.

At first, you hesitated, but you couldn’t resist the affectionate look on Eddie’s face. Even the creaking sound of the old wooden floor beneath your feet as you moved to the rhythm somehow became endearing. "You can’t win me over that easily," you murmured, but the way Eddie held you close softened your heart.

As the final notes of the song played, Eddie rested his forehead against yours. In his eyes, you saw a mix of regret and love. "I’ll do better for you. I promise," he said softly.

In that moment, you felt that Eddie was truly trying, that he genuinely wanted to make things right. The anger within you started to melt away, though you weren’t ready to forgive him just yet. "If the pancakes are good, maybe I’ll consider it," you said with a small smile. Eddie immediately dashed back to the kitchen, grabbing the mixing bowl.

Five minutes later, Eddie returned to the table with a plate in hand. The pancakes weren’t exactly masterpieces—they were a bit uneven and slightly overcooked—but the chocolate sauce he had drizzled on top made them look sweet enough. As you sat down, you took the fork he offered you.

"This is the best I can do for now, but next time, I’ll whip up something worthy of a pastry chef. Promise," he said, watching intently as you took your first bite. Eddie’s eyes stayed on you, his expression a mix of nervousness and hope.

"They’re not bad," you said, taking another bite. Eddie exhaled deeply and burst out laughing. "Not bad? That’s the highest compliment I’ve ever received!"

As you chuckled lightly, Eddie walked around the table to sit beside you. "Seeing you smile like this… it’s worth the world to me," he said, taking a bite of his own pancake.

The night began to feel normal again. When Eddie offered his hand, you hesitated at first but then took it with a faint smile. "Eddie, you really are the most stubborn and sweetest man in the world, you know that, don’t you?" you said. Eddie winked and pulled you back toward the living room.

Another song started playing from the playlist in the background—this one from the first night you two had danced together. Eddie gave you his signature mischievous look and gently pulled you closer.

"This song," he whispered, "reminds me of you. Every time I hear it, I think of that first night on the dance floor. You, in that red dress… and me, with too much hairspray and maybe a little drunk…"

You chuckled softly at his words. “Don’t be so hard on yourself; you were amazing that night,” you said. Eddie spun you gently and pulled you back into his arms, his eyes locked on yours.

“Every night is amazing if it ends with you,” he added.

As you danced, Eddie’s hands moved from your waist to your back, drawing you closer to him. The intimacy of the moment slowly erased the tension left by your earlier argument. Near the end of the song, Eddie twirled you one last time but, instead of ending the dance, he did something unexpected: he took your hands and started leading you toward the front door.

“Eddie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice laced with both surprise and curiosity.

“Surprise,” was all he said, that familiar mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. Before you could press him for more answers, he grabbed your coat and handed it to you, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door.

The cold night air brushed against your face, making you instinctively move closer to Eddie for warmth. “Seriously, Eddie, where are we going at midnight?” you asked again. He just smiled, guiding you toward his van.

Soon, you were driving down a quiet road leading out of Hawkins. Eddie kept glancing at you with a playful smile, his hand occasionally tapping the steering wheel in time with the music. He’d restarted the playlist, making sure one of your favorite songs was playing to fill the silence.

Finally, he stopped the van near a small hillside. From there, the lights of Hawkins twinkled faintly in the distance like scattered stars. Eddie hopped out of the van, pulling a blanket from the back. Then, coming around to your side, he opened your door and held out his hand.

“This place…” you began, but Eddie interrupted immediately.

“Just wait, okay? Everything’s almost ready.” He spread the blanket on the ground and guided you to sit on it before returning to the van to grab a thermos and some snacks. Sitting down beside you, he handed you the thermos and gestured toward the view of the town below.

“So, this might not be a grand anniversary gift,” he said, a touch of nervousness in his voice. “But this place is special to me because, no matter how much I want to get out of this town, there’s always one thing keeping me here. You. And I might have forgotten about tonight, but I could never forget you.”

His words made your eyes glisten with unshed tears. As always, Eddie’s sweet and heartfelt way of expressing himself struck a chord deep within you.

“And also,” he continued, pulling a small box from his back pocket, “I thought this might help make up for it. It’s small, but it’s meaningful. I actually got it a while ago…”

When he opened the box, inside was a necklace that was unmistakably Eddie’s style. The chain was delicate but stylish, with a small guitar charm hanging from it.

“This represents us,” Eddie said as he carefully fastened the necklace around your neck. “Every note is you and me.”

Your eyes shifted from the necklace to Eddie. “You’re really going all out to make up for this, aren’t you?” you said with a smile.

Eddie nodded and whispered, “Because you’re worth it.” Under the lights of Hawkins, you stood beside Eddie, and the argument had melted into a warm harmony. “I think I can forgive you,” you finally said, resting your head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie pulled you into a tight hug and chuckled softly. “I knew it.” The night ended under the stars, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket and the peace Eddie brought to your heart.

taglist: @t-folklore13 @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl

#eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #angst to fluff #angst to comfort

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zosan-secondchances · 3 days ago

Text

The Pirate King of the North: Part 9

Bonus panels for some extra backstory.

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

That night, the swordsman makes a last minute decision to rectify things with the blonde. He figured that there's no point in delaying as this might be the only chance they get to talk one-on-one before they get stuck in Skypiea with Law for however long they need to be up there. Since his cocktail-making skills are apparently subpar at best, he thought he'd turn to doing something else that he hopes Sanji would like before he pops the question–about the name, he reminds himself. Whatever it is, it will need to be something incredible to make up for the shame of not knowing something so simple about the man after all the years they’ve known together.

He thinks about quickly jumping off to collect some flowers in Jaya’s South Grove, but he is met by Jean Bart who drags his sorry feet back inside. The large man assigned himself on “Zoro duty”, not wanting the Warlord to get lost the night before he needed to depart with their captain. Apparently they had pissed him off enough already that day.

Zoro turns to the kitchen to try and find Sanji's favourite snacks, and maybe sneak away with a couple bottles of wine to help set the mood. Unfortunately he bumped into Hakugan and Uni who are guarding the door, ready to strike him down should he set foot inside the room. They give him a powerful performance of their martial arts prowess as a gentle reminder that he's banned from the place, warning him that they’re not afraid to put their lives on the line to enforce Law’s rules. When he tried to ask for their assistance to go and fetch what he needed, they both turned him away, thinking that he's just trying to distract them so he can do whatever evil thing he apparently was set out to do.

His last option was the library. He’s not much of a reader but he figured he would try because he knew of Sanji’s love for knowledge and books. He wants to read a story or two with him to see if that’s something they would enjoy doing together. Sadly, when he arrives, he is met by the Grand Line’s most impatient doctor who is currently studying the Skypiea map with Bepo at the polar bear’s drafting table, trying to come up with a plan of action for when they get there in the morning. Not wanting to be distracted or have the library wrecked the way Zoro did with the kitchen, Law used his Room ability to teleport him out of there before he could even get a chance to grab something off the shelves.

Having no other options left, Zoro resorts to the idea of giving the blonde mind-blowing sex. He would worship him like the king he is and he would do it all night if the other man demanded it so. The swordsman figured it's probably the safest bet anyway while they’re in the early honeymoon phase of their relationship. Sanji is highly skilled in that area for a very good reason.

He makes his way to their bunkroom. Under the door, he sees that the dim light of the desk lamp is still on. Finally, things are looking up. He thinks to himself that now’s the perfect chance to make a move while Sanji is probably still up reading at this hour as usual.

Until he hears a couple of familiar voices on the other side of the door. They were muffled, but their identities were clear.

Sanji

…Are you sure that you're okay? I don't know how effective it is with the front broken like that.

Niji

Dunno. It's like…having mood swings. The sensation goes in and out. It's a bit weird.

Sanji

I need you to get it fixed first then. And while you're at it, drop off the new stones at the lab.

I'm not sending you in until you're all good.

Niji

I can still fight.

Sanji

I'm not letting you take the risk until your helmet’s fixed, Niji. That's my final word. You’re on your own with this next mission and I need you to be able to make good calls.

Another pang of guilt hits the swordsman–for not being careful enough and wrecking the commander’s helmet, and for eavesdropping for as long as he has so far. He starts walking backwards, and was about to turn his heel and move somewhere else to give them privacy when Sanji’s voice pierced through the door.

Sanji

Hey, Mosshead! Don't be a creep and get in here.

Zoro flinches, and silently curses the blonde’s mastery of his observation haki. He doesn't want to make things look worse than it already is so he opens the door awkwardly. He's met by two pairs of eyes.

Sanji is leaning with his palms against the desk while Niji is sitting on the chair, fiddling with the blonde's claw gauntlet on the table. It looks like there's two now. From afar, Zoro could tell that their blades are longer, sharper and more dangerous than the last. The metallic scale armour that covered the glove is a new addition, having only just durable leather holding everything together before.

Niji

Spying on us, are we?

Zoro grits his teeth, throwing the blue-haired man an annoyed look.

Sanji

This is also his room, Commander.

Niji tuts disapprovingly then resumes his work on the claw gauntlet.

Zoro

I didn't want to interrupt. I’ll just head out for some fresh air.

Sanji

You didn't interrupt anything. The commander was just showing me his handiwork. He’ll be done soon! I just needed a couple of fitting adjustments done and we’re all set.

Niji

Hmm… no. Now that I think about it, this will take a bit longer than I thought.

Sanji

What? But you said–

Niji

Whoops.

As if done on purpose, a buckle disassembles itself in Niji’s hands. Little bits of metal scatter on the desk.

Sanji

You’re such an ass. Fine. Stay here, hog the room. I don’t care. Let’s go, Marimo.

Niji

No, I need you to stay here so we can refit it. Because the buckle’s broken now.

Sanji

You broke it!

Niji

And I need to fix it but I can only do that if you’re here. So, stay.

Sanji

I will actually pluck your eyeballs out one of these days, Commander.

Sanji stomps out the door, grabbing Zoro’s arm along the way.

Niji

Where are you going? We need to get this done tonight before you head off first thing!

Sanji

I’ll be back!

Zoro and Sanji walk arm-in-arm quietly to the deck of the ship. They were met by Jean Bart who was about to tell off Zoro for being outside, but the blonde reassured the large man that he has eyes on him, promising to keep the grumbling swordsman out of trouble. Happy with the response, the Heart Pirate retires inside for the night.

Zoro

Isn’t the whole point of me being here is to keep an eye on you?

Sanji chuckled heartily–music to the swordsman’s ears.

Sanji

I know. What the hell happened to us?

They proceeded to the bow of the ship and settled themselves against the railing. It was quiet and serene. The crescent moon is up, revealing the dark silhouette of Jaya island on the horizon. Above, stars shone brightly across the span of the night sky–its reflections twinkled playfully on the still waters of the ocean below.

Sanji

You’re awfully quiet.

Zoro tears his gaze away from the scene. He looks next to him where the blonde has a hand wrapped around his arm and finishing a cigarette with the other.

Sanji

You usually are, but your silence is…louder somehow.

The swordsman rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Suddenly he’s not so sure what to say and how he’d ask the big question. He wanted to get this far tonight–tried many times to set up the scene better but to no avail. He also didn’t realise how he would feel right in the thick of things.

Zoro

There’s been a lot in my mind. Sorry.

Sanji

Never apologise for that…but whatever it is, I could tell that it’s eating you up.

Zoro sighs and returns his gaze to the island on the horizon.

Sanji

Is this because you had a fight with my brother?

Zoro’s eyebrows shoot up.

Zoro

Did he–?

Sanji

He didn’t have to. His helmet's busted and don’t think I haven’t noticed your little injury on your forehead, damn Mosshead. If you don’t take care of your head, how will you be able to photosynthesize?

Zoro scowls at the mockery.

Sanji laughs lightly, kissing the swordsman on the cheek as a way of reassuring him that it’s just a joke. After noticing that his attempt to release the tension didn’t work, he speaks in a slightly more serious tone.

Sanji

Did he try to scare you away? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all night?

Zoro shakes his head.

Sanji

Don’t freak out or anything but… you’re not the first that he’s done that to. I can tell him to back off if you want.

Zoro

No… it’ll take a lot more than that to get me to leave your side, Curls.

The blonde’s expression softens.

Zoro

Though, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to avoid you. I spent hours… ages… trying to plan this whole thing for us tonight but I feel like whatever I do…

The swordsman gets flashbacks of all the times he’d slashed and stabbed the man. He remembers cursing his way repeatedly for attempting to propose to him for the umpteenth time. He recalls their first kiss–how the first thing that came out of his mouth was to tell him to not kill the Celestial Dragon, and because of that, it nearly cost him his life. In fact, he might have permanently if not for their skillful doctor. He remembers the way the blonde held onto the liberated family from Sabaody. How, even in his critical condition, he fought from fully succumbing into sleep just to make sure that everyone was okay as they fled from the Pacifistas.

And now, with a seemingly easy task of organising a romantic night, the swordsman can’t even do such a simple thing for him.

Zoro clenches his fists against the wooden railing.

Zoro

I can’t seem to do anything right by you…. I just feel like everything that I do is not good enough–or just flat out hurts you. And right now, I have nothing but myself to offer. For whatever that's worth.

Sanji

Zoro…

Zoro shifts so he’s looking at Sanji face to face then holds both of his hands in his, making the other man drop his cigarette. The determined fiery look in his eye makes the blonde jump in surprise.

Zoro

Curls, I want to get to know you better.

Sanji

Uh–sure!

Zoro

What’s your favourite food?

Sanji

Uhm… let’s see…

Zoro

If you had all the money in the world, where would you go?

Sanji

Oh Mellorine, I do have all the mon–

Zoro

How long does it take to get there?

Is that where you want to go for our first date?

Is shopping your thing? I'm not good with that stuff but I could ask Nami or Robin for advice.

If we’re going on holiday, can we do it alone first or would you prefer bringing your family along?

How many kids do you want to have?

Sanji

MARIMO!

Sanji thinks that he’s about to go crazy. His face is all red, he feels hot up to his ears and his heart is pounding so much like it's going to burst out of his chest. The swordsman’s sweetness and thoughtfulness overwhelms him with joy. He starts laughing out loud–in a way that he’s never laughed before, ignoring the slight ache from his recent surgery. He thinks that if he breaks stitches this way, so be it, because he’s never felt his chest so light and heart so full. He felt so happy that he could fly.

The swordsman looked confused and offended from all the unhinged laughter like he was being made fun of.

Sanji cups Zoro’s face into his hands, trying his best to recover from his outburst.

Sanji

I didn’t realise that you needed to know everything now!

Zoro looks down to his lips, watching that attractive smile that he’s always drawn to.

Zoro

I just… I really wanted to… to…

Sanji pulls him in to claim his mouth with his. He pushes Zoro roughly against the railing, determined to show the swordsman how much he appreciates him at that very moment. He slides his hand up and down the man’s body, massaging, caressing and feeling everything that he could lay his hands on. He wants to show his love and admiration to the man by worshipping every part of him. Zoro was more than happy to reciprocate the affection.

They stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime. Regrettably, Sanji pulls himself away from the most passionate kiss he's ever had in his life so he could breathe. He kept his body close as he panted.

Zoro leans in and continues his assault on his lips–biting and sucking hard then giving them soothing licks to ease the arousing pain–not wanting for everything to stop so soon. Between breaths, the blonde speaks.

Sanji

We have our entire lives to get to know one another…. What’s your rush, Marimo?

Zoro freezes at that, blinking his eye. Then for the first time that night, he smiles his genuine toothy smile.

Zoro

I guess we do, don’t we?

Sanji scoops up one of his rough hands and gives it a tender kiss on the calloused knuckles.

Sanji

I want to savour every moment of this–of us, okay? Right now, it’s just you, me… and this.

Sanji gestures at the scene in front of them, then swings his hand around to point out the environment surrounding them–the bright moon, the calm waters and the clear starry skies.

Sanji

Nothing else matters.

Zoro looks into his wide blue eyes. They're positively glowing a lot more so than usual tonight. He wraps his arms around the man and leans his forehead on his, kissing the bridge of his nose. The blonde was correct–nothing else mattered. It felt right to be there. In his heart, he decides to make it a mission to spend every waking moment to prove that he's worthy of his trust, even if it takes a lifetime for him to open up and tell him his real name. He would not demand it that day. He thinks that if he truly deserved it, the blonde will share it to him in time at his own volition. They do have a lifetime to get to know one another, after all.

The swordsman had lost a gamble with Nami that night. He’ll have to remember to send the navigator a couple hundred Beri through the post somehow for betting on him falling in love that year.

—

At a far distance, hidden in the thick mist of the sea, a particularly tall and lanky Warlord watches the blonde and his green-haired companion through the lens of his spyglass. With a flick of his wrist, he retracts the telescope and tosses it to a dark silhouette of a man.

Stranger

Now's the perfect time. Let’s do it.

Doflamingo

Hmm…no. I want to savour… every… moment of this….

He lets out a deep chuckle.

Doflamingo

Besides, I have another job for you. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.

You are dismissed.

He waves off the man, and the figure walks off. Doflamingo stands from the comfort of his chair and takes a few long strides to the bow of the ship, never taking his eyes off the small dot on the horizon that is the Polar Tang.

Doflamingo

I’m grateful you showed us the way, Pirate King. You never fail me, do you?

…Sanji.

----------

I had way too much fun with those panel drawings. (Honestly part of it was me trying to find an excuse to draw more dofsan lol)

If it's not obvious yet, I try to line up certain things about this Sanji and canon Sanji. Instead of him being exclusively in love with mermaids, I like to think he loves all merfolk in this story.

Fukaboshi's always been the one on my mind as Sanji's "the one who got away" romance. I was rewatching Fish-man Island arc and I remembered how wise and noble he is, and has a great sense of responsibility to look after his family. I figured this Sanji would be attracted to those qualities.

Plus, you know, have you seen those big hands? Fwah~!

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voikiraz · 2 days ago

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— In 𐔌 𝓜y ͡꒱ eyes [ l.hs ]

Lovers . Bf!heeseung x fem!reader ⠀𝑤. Petnames, skinship, that's it i think step ? #885 M.recordings [ if this feels rushed or forced pls tell me, again this is part of @cupidhoons series ahhh, I can't believe I actually got both done, but hope you like it >< ]

Syn. Four times heeseung marked your moment as the most special and decided he wants to keep you next to him forever.

This is so silly but i think heeseung would have a photo binder full of polaroids of you, pictures of you guys on dates, his friends and family etc. And he definitely has one in his wallet too ( I'm indulging in lover ; heeseung )

𝑜𝑛𝑒

It was a random date night, but considering that you haven't had some time for yourselves in a while, it hit you differently, and you sure missed him, it was a day that you appreciated more each second the more you think about it.

Knowing that he put so much effort in taking you out every week even though you knew his days were jam packed.

“Thank you hee, I missed going out with you, I was starting to experience withdrawals” you say, twirling around the glass containing your drink while you waited for the food.

“Anything for you baby, plus you deserve it” he said, holding your hand and the night continued on, talking about your weeks and sharing each other's food (or stealing it ).

And by the end of the day, he had to pull out his polaroid camera, he genuinely had it with him all the time.

It was his way of keeping the moment with him for as long as he could.

He asked one of the waiters to take a picture of you two, and you displayed the bouquet of flowers he got you this morning, white and pure like the love he provides you.

𝑡𝑤𝑜

You were very tempted to ignore your friends and go back to sleep, why would they wake you up before sunrise just so you can enjoy the good weather?

But they drove a hard bargain the moment they told you heeseung was coming too, who were you to decline spending time with your boyfriend.

You got up and started getting ready at a speed that made your friends scoff at you at how fast you changed your mind.

As you walked around the empty streets near the river, all you could focus on was him, making you earn a few ( fake ) disappointed sighs from your friends, declaring that they hate couples ( even though they're your biggest supporters ).

The group stopped somewhere to decide where they should have breakfast before moving any further, forgetting the two love birds somewhere on the other side of the road.

And they stood there, sickeningly staring at each other as if they weren't capable of ever looking away.

And when heeseung decided that you look way too pretty to not snap a picture, he pulled out his camera, and so did jake, he thought this was the perfect moment to capture your intense love for each other.

“You're so gorgeous, my love” Jake heard heeseungs voice mumble those few words out and he wished he minded his own business.

“Okay enough please, never do that infront of us again” Jake complained in a whiney voice, brushing you off and walking further.

𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒

On a warm night, when your boyfriend decided that it's the perfect weather for a sleepover and some hot chocolate, the last thing you expected to do is let said boyfriend drag you out in the cold.

“Y/n come on there's shooting stars outside.” He said almost in a whiny voice, wearing his heavy jacket and waiting for you by the door.

You were contemplating, did you really want to get out from under the comfortable blankets to go see shooting stars?

Well, If he was asking so nicely, how cruel would you be if you denied him such a request?

“Fine, give me a second.” You said, running up the stairs to go get your jacket then beelining towards where he stood once more.

He threw a giddy smile on his face and a light kiss on your cheeks, one that appears with a chuu sound paired with it, making you giggle.

He pulled your wrist and in a second you were outside, enjoying the snow and the shooting stars, the cold breeze contrasting the warm toned living room that you were buried in a second before.

“Omg we should take a picture, come here” he pulled you close to him, holding the camera up and hiding his face in the warmth of his jacket.

‘Click’

“It's so pretty,” he said in awe, then looked at you in a swift motion “not as pretty as you though.” He paired his flirty line with a wink.

𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟

It was finally new years night, and you were excitedly waiting for the countdown to start, waiting for heeseung to claim you as his new years kiss.

And he delivered with no hesitation, making it feel like it'll never be the last time.

He gave you the world and more. And you were forever grateful for him, the way you could picture yourself living with him for as long as you'll breathe. Safe like you've never been before.

You love Lee Heeseung, and you dont remember what it feels like not to.

“Pose for the camera love birds,” you heard Giselle call for you two and you happily obliged, taking a few pictures on her phone, ( that she'll probably never send to you ).

But of course, you had to take your special polaroid picture with the person you'll want to engrave in your ribs forever.

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icanimagine08 · 3 days ago

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A Morning in Seoul

Summary: Jeonghan and reader both have a day off - what better way to spend it lounging around all day together?!

Warnings: None! Just fluff!

Word Count: 1345

Here is another Jeonghan fic!! I'm going to be on holiday for a couple of days so won't upload for a while! as always, feel free to send in any requests! Hope you're all having a lovely build up to Christmas! :)

It was a rare thing, this quiet morning in Seoul. The city was waking up, the streets outside still quiet, with only the occasional hum of distant traffic or a car honking in the distance. But inside the soft, dimly lit apartment, everything felt suspended in time, just for the two of you.

Yoon Jeonghan lay beside you, his arms wrapped lazily around your waist as the faint morning light filtered through the curtains. The comfort of his presence was something you’d never quite grown used to, not even after five years together. In a world that always seemed to rush forward, moments like these – simple, calm, and uninterrupted – felt like a little oasis.

His breathing was steady, warm against your skin. The rhythm of his chest rising and falling was comforting. You didn’t want to move. Not yet.

You shifted slightly, just enough to tuck your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin, a mixture of his cologne and the faint trace of his shampoo. His hand, which had been resting on your side, slid gently up to brush through your hair, the motion slow and tender, as though he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the stillness either.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the moment settle over you. For a few minutes, the world outside didn’t exist – just the warmth of Jeonghan’s body next to yours, the soft rustle of blankets, and the quiet murmurs of contentment that filled the space between you both.

"I can’t believe we’re both off today," Jeonghan murmured, his voice low, still heavy with sleep but also laced with that signature warmth of his. He pulled you closer, making sure your bodies were pressed together.

You smiled, your lips brushing against his collarbone. "I know. It’s been forever since we had a day like this."

He chuckled softly, a sound that always made your heart flutter. "I swear, you always say that. But it’s true. I forget how nice it is to just… be with you, you know?"

You nodded, looking up at him. His face was soft and unguarded, the morning light casting gentle shadows across his features. Even after all these years, there were still moments when you would find yourself gazing at him, thinking that he was more beautiful than you’d remembered.

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I forget sometimes too. It’s just... the two of us.”

Jeonghan's smile deepened, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, before he pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Are you saying you could live without my company?" he teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Of course not. You’re impossible to live without, Jeonghan."

He laughed at that, his entire face lighting up with the joy that he so effortlessly exuded. The sound of his laugh, genuine and carefree, always made your heart ache with affection.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He rested his forehead against yours, his fingers gently tracing circles on your arm. “I’ve missed this… us just being together without anyone else demanding our attention.”

It had been a while since you’d had a proper day off together. Between his packed schedule as a member of SEVENTEEN, the countless rehearsals, recordings, and the never-ending cycle of concerts and events, there was rarely any time just for the two of you. But this morning, here, in this little corner of Seoul, you had all the time in the world.

"Do you want to just stay here today?" you asked quietly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips.

"Why would I want to leave when I have you right here?" he responded, his voice thick with affection. He leaned down again, this time pressing his lips gently to yours. The kiss was slow at first, lingering as though neither of you wanted to pull away. When you finally did, your lips tingled from the closeness.

“Stay in bed all day?” you asked, your voice teasing now.

He chuckled softly. "Well, that sounds pretty perfect to me. But if you’re set on being productive, I guess I could find something to do… like maybe make us breakfast?"

You grinned, running your hand down the back of his neck, pulling him closer again. “You don’t need to do that. We could just stay in bed and order something.”

He looked at you with a mock expression of offense. “Are you saying I can’t cook?”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “I’ve never seen you cook.”

He grinned, nudging you with his elbow. “You’re missing out. But maybe you’re right, a lazy breakfast in bed does sound good.”

The thought of a cozy breakfast together, with the possibility of the two of you staying wrapped in your little bubble for a while longer, made your heart warm. You let yourself sink back into his embrace, savoring the comfort of his arms.

"Okay, okay," Jeonghan continued after a beat, his hand tracing the side of your face. "But only if you promise me one thing."

“What's that?” you asked, looking up at him curiously.

“That after breakfast, we don’t leave this bed for the rest of the day. We can just watch movies, or talk, or do nothing at all."

You chuckled, nodding. "Deal."

Jeonghan smiled, his eyes soft as he leaned in to kiss you once more. The kiss was sweet, languid, without any rush – just an expression of how much he adored you. You could feel the smile tugging at the corners of your lips even as you kissed him, and when you finally pulled back, your breath was shallow, as though the closeness between you both had stolen it.

"Okay," you murmured, "I think we should definitely stay here then."

He laughed softly, pulling the covers up over both of you and tucking you into his side. "Good. Because I’m not letting you go today."

As you both lay there, with the peaceful quiet of the morning surrounding you, there was a sense of comfort that settled between you both. The chaos of Jeonghan's world – the rehearsals, the fans, the busy schedules – seemed so far away now. Here, in this little apartment, it was just you two, sharing the simple joy of each other’s company.

You snuggled closer to him, letting your body relax against his. His fingers moved to your hair again, brushing it away from your face, before his lips pressed gently against the top of your head.

"How did I get so lucky to have you here with me?" Jeonghan asked softly, his voice full of affection and sincerity.

You smiled, your hand resting against his chest. "I should be the one asking that. But I think we’re both lucky."

He hummed contentedly, closing his eyes. "Maybe we should never leave this apartment," he whispered, half-seriously. "Just you and me, all the time."

"I wouldn’t mind that," you replied, your heart swelling at the thought. "But we both have lives outside of here. So, for now, we can just enjoy this morning together."

Jeonghan nodded, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer as though he could keep you in this bubble forever. And for that moment, you believed he might.

In that quiet, perfect morning, nothing else mattered. It was just you, him, and the peaceful serenity of a world that, for once, could wait.

---

The minutes ticked by slowly, and eventually, the faint aroma of coffee wafted into the room. Jeonghan, as promised, had gotten up to make breakfast. But as you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of the blankets and his presence, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed just yet.

#x reader #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #carat #svt #seventeen #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan fanfic #yoon jeonghan imagine #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic

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rootspiral · 7 hours ago

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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 9

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9])

knowing how ridiculous rio is, I fear she's going to make 'mourning agatha' her whole personality from now on

billy looking all chill like, so this is who agatha was boinking cool cool cool cool cool

and rio, honey. *deep sigh* you made a whole fucking deal about billy being an abomination. you can't just let him live now because you pinky promised your wife. especially bcs you're not even going to collect her. you're just going to be extremely emo about this whole thing, aren't you? MY BELOVED IS GONE SO I AM A SKULL NOW, I HAVE NO HUMANITY LEFT. babe. mourning is the most human thing you could do right now, who are we kidding.

(did they cgi the skull this time? it looks great tbh, that's what cgi should be used for, to enhance little things when it's needed, not to take over the whole process.)

this joke has been made a million times, but:

the Wanda Walk of Shame™

and yes while it is funny that he just gets in his subaru and leaves, what was he supposed to do?? just leave his car in westview? what if his mom and dad need it? how was he supposed to know he'd learn how to fly during the night?

how are we doing, bud? you've had a weird fucking day, haven't you

my parents were so worried!!! jeff and rebecca kaplan please adopt me

I love to snoop around billy's room. lorna wu and the wizard of oz, but also tarots, moon phases, astrology, esotericism and pride stickers galore. and jennifer's body!

now it's time for billy to do the math meme. the wicked witch is even wearing a brooch, it's not that hard to figure out

poltergeist II, haxan, buffy, rocky horror. does anyone know what's the poster on the right behind the lava lamp is, with the woman and the red devil?

AND. LAST BUT NOT LEAST. THE TRANS LIVES MATTERS FLAG.

carrie, the craft, saw. sindie and the spectres, never heard of that one. the incantations. evanescence, tove lo.

good morning, sleeping beauty!

agatha harkness: asshole, menace, toddler. now in ghost form!

eight episodes down, one to go. I'm not ready.

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #billy maximoff #rio vidal #character analysis

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ferrarifinnick · 2 days ago

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WHO WANTS TO BE A DADDY | THE HUNGER GAMES HEADCANON

didn’t think i would, but i absolutely loved thinking about this with thg boys. we only ever really see katniss’ opinion on parenthood in the books, and it was so much fun exploring other perspectives. i’d love to hear if you agree or if this feels all wrong, because there’s no right or wrong answer really! also, i know most of you dislike gale but i really enjoyed exploring him in this lol.

CW: set post-rebellion, when life is finally peaceful and full of possibility. small couple lines at the end of each section about: how many & genders i think suits them best, and why.

includes: gale, finnick, peeta

warnings: none

gale would absolutely want to be a father, but just not for some time after the rebellion is won and over. i can see him moving back to the new district 12, building a new house for you both to live in, far away from the ruins he watched go up in flames. i think this would be his project for a while. it would be his way to grieve the loss of his old life, while focussing on building a new one. with you. i can see this being therapeutic for him, and i can see his younger siblings helping him with painting the walls and his mother cooking a meal for you to eat together once the project is complete. and as gale is eating in your new home with his family, i think he would realise that he no longer has to provide for them like he has since his dad died. they will be alright without him now, and he can finally live a life of his own. after his family goes back to their new home, i think he would finally tell you that he’s ready and wants to start this new chapter right away. but most importantly, he wants to start it with you.

i think gale would shine best with two boys, partly because he can fill the void his father’s death left in him, and to turn them into better men than he was growing up.

i’m going to defy canon and say that finnick doesn’t really have a preference. i think his attitude would be that if it happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t, that’s fine too. it would be something he’d like fate to decide, i think. after all, finnick is much more interested in all things you than about what you can or can’t give him. but that’s not to say he wouldn’t be completely overcome with excitement if you did happen to fall pregnant. i think he would occasionally wonder what your baby would look like, if it would have your eyes or his smile, and he’d spend a lot of his free time thinking of names that incorporate your favourite flowers and colours, just in case. but if you didn’t ever fall pregnant, i can see him being equally content in taking the number one spot on the list of people that you love.

finnick is definitely great with kids. i think he’d shine best as a girl dad or as the fun uncle katniss and peeta’s kids see occasionally for holidays.

peeta has three priorities in life: propose to you, marry you, and then have beautiful babies with you. plural, because peeta has so much love for you that it couldn’t possibly be contained to just you. no, he needs extensions of you, so that he can share his love with them, too. i think peeta would take his role as a husband and father incredibly seriously, and that would include cooking every meal for your family, organising family game nights every week, etc. but he would even do little things like filling up a vase with fresh flowers every week for you, crafting his own stories to read to your kids every night (and he’d definitely make a picture book to go along with it), and really taking the time to meet the emotional needs of your family. most of all, he wants to make the kind of loving family that he wished for but never had.

he would do best as a father to at least one girl and one boy, if not more. he would definitely make saturday mornings a baking day, with you and the kids helping to bake some treats for game night later that day.

papa peeta makes my heart melt honestly. like, comment, reblog. love <3

#the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #peeta mellark x reader #gale hawthorne x reader #the hunger games x reader #thg x reader #finnick x reader #gale x reader #peeta x reader #thg #the hunger games headcanon #thg headcanon

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kaminocasey · 2 days ago

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Daddy's Home

Summary: Scar comes home late at night to you, after being out with the firelights.

Pairing: Scar x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut. A lot of smut. Rough sex, Scar likes to be called Daddy, unprotected p in v (wrap it up friends), Angst

WC: 2.4K

A/N: Ah, my first Scar fic lol. And the first smut I've written for any Arcane character so please be gentle with me lmao. I love this man so much it's insane, he makes me wanna get his name tattooed on my ass. (Kidding but lmao)

Taglist Form │ Arcane Masterlist │ Scar Playlist

The neon lights travel through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, casting a soft pink glow over everything. You’ve been awake for hours, waiting for Scar to come home to you. The baby is tucked against you, sleeping peacefully, not even realizing her father isn’t home right now.

You’ve known Scar for years, having become Eva’s babysitter for when Scar would go out with the Firelights, sometimes not coming home until the next morning. It never bothered you before. He was doing what needed to be done.

But now… it’s harder. His missions with the Firelights were becoming more and more dangerous that sometimes you can’t help but stay up and worry. And now that you two are together, finally, it makes things more difficult for sure.

A few hours later, you’re on the verge of sleep but get woken up by a set of hands scooping Eva up. Instinctively, you grab her and then raise your fist to fight off whoever just grabbed her. You’re not exactly the best fighter, but you’re almost certain you could hold your own in an emergency.

“Woah, relax, babygirl. It’s just me.” A deep familiar voice chuckles in a hushed tone.

You sit up, finding Scar taking Eva into her room and then returning a moment later, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Since when are you ready for a fight?” He teases, starting to strip his clothes.

“Since I became a mother.” You whisper.

Despite being frustrated, you can’t tear your eyes away from him when he peels his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. He lifts up off the bed momentarily to take off his pants and then slides next to you, pulling you against him.

His piercing green eyes that always manage to see into your soul meet yours and he sighs softly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart-”

You instantly feel bad, knowing he’s only doing what needs to be done.

“No, don’t be. I’m sorry. I know what you’re doing is more important in the grand scheme of things.” You murmur, kissing his chest.

He shakes his head, reaching underneath the hem of your shirt and trailing his sharpened nails lightly up and down your back. “Not more important than you and Eva. If you want me to stop-”

“You can’t. Ekko needs you too much.” You murmur, trailing your own fingers over his chest. “But thank you.”

He sighs, knowing you’re right, and grabs your hand, bringing up to his lips. It’s a silent agreement that you’ll just suck it up until this fight is over. If it’ll ever be over…

“Did everything go-” You start but he rolls over on top of you, silencing you by crushing his lips to yours.

Scar’s sudden roughness leads you to believe that maybe he had a close call with death tonight. While you try to push that to the back of your mind, his lips make their way down your neck, his sharp teeth lightly grazing over your skin. You melt as his hands travel down to your hip, gripping tightly.

“Scar-” You whimper softly.

He lets out a soft growl letting you know he’s got you… that he needs you. He looks down at you for permission and when you nod, he pulls you up quickly so he can pull your t-shirt off. Technically, it’s his but you wear it more than he does. It’s comforting to wear when he’s not around.

Before you can reach up to kiss him, he kisses you first, pushing you back down to the mattress with a slight force and you smirk up at him.

“Look so pretty like this for me.” He whispers softly as he drags one hand down your chest, palming your breast while the other hand holds you by the hip, keeping you anchored.

You let out a whine, making him smirk as he squeezes with more pressure, dragging a breathless moan from you.

“So needy for me aren’t you? That’s the real reason you needed me to come home, wasn’t it? Needed me to fill this sweet little pussy, huh?” He’s right there in your ear, licking a stripe up your neck and teasing the lobe of your ear.

“Fuck… Scar-” You try to roll your hips against him to let him know you need him now.

“What do you want first? Tongue or cock?” He purrs, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your covered clit making your underwear rub just right to make you gasp.

He starts to pull your underwear down, discarding them to the floor as you wonder why he’s making you decide? He knows how indecisive you are when you’re needy and desperate for him. What happened to the roughness?

You look up at him. “Tongue.”

It comes out like a desperate plea. But you know he doesn’t mind one bit.

“Tongue it is, sweetheart.” He winks and then rolls over onto his back. “Come have a seat.”

You let out a breathless laugh and then straddle Scar’s face, eagerly.

“My favorite view.” Scar murmurs before wrapping his long, strong arms around your thighs and anchoring you down to his face so you can’t go anywhere.

He licks a long stripe up your already soaked warmth and your hands fly to his hair with a gasp, gripping tightly, making him moan against you. You both live for this kind of intimacy. The kind where you have to be as close as possible when you’re together. Sex doesn’t even have to be involved.

But it’s always a plus, isn’t it?

His grip on your thighs tightens as he starts to eat you out like a man starved. The moans that leave your lips sound absolutely sinful to your own ears. His lips tighten around your clit, sucking enough that you can feel your release coming a little too soon.

“Fuck daddy…” You whimper.

He hums roughly and the sound reverberates throughout your entire lower half, making you squirm. You look down at him and he throws you a wink, making you shake your head at him, amused.

One of his hands leaves your thighs so that he can run it up your stomach and then

grope your breast again. Your hand falls to his, letting him know exactly how to touch you. He doesn’t need it, though. He always just knows how you need him. His grip tightens, making a breathless whimper leave your mouth.

Scar’s tongue slips back down to your entrance, making the grip you have in his hair tighten. You take the moment to reach behind you into his briefs, wrapping your hand around his hardened length. He groans into you and you tighten your grip with a needy gasp.

“Gods… babygirl… keep going.” He encourages you, letting go of your thigh for only a second while he pulls his briefs down further for you.

You smirk down at him, stroking him exactly how he likes, deep and slow. He groans again and you give a slight twist, making his hips buck against your hand.

“Good girl… always know exactly how to handle me, don’t you?” He asks, his voice rough with need.

Your head falls back as you writhe against his face, continuing to pump his length until you start to feel your edge nearing.

“Gonna…” You gasp. “Sc-”

“Fuck… do it, baby girl. Come on daddy’s face.” He groans, his grip on your body tightening.

All you can manage is a high pitched quiet whimper as you get thrown over your edge, your orgasm practically ripped from your body by Scar’s tongue. He doesn’t give you much time to come down from the high of it all before he pulls you off of his face and presses you into the bed, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist.

“Sorry baby… need to be inside you right now… that okay?” He pleads, and all you have to do is nod before he pushes into you fully.

He growls as you let out a breathless gasp. Your fingers press into his strong shoulders as he buries himself inside of you, unable to move for a moment.

“So fucking wet.” He whispers into your neck, licking and biting softly as one hand travels up to the back of your neck and the other tightens on your hip. “All for me, hm, pretty girl?”

You whimper with a nod, barely able to say anything more. He chuckles, understanding, as he presses a kiss to your jaw. He slowly pulls out, only to push back in just as slow. You pull away to look up into piercing green eyes and he grins as he drags his cock out only to push it in a little rougher, making your lips part as you gasp, clenching around him.

His cock drags in and out repeatedly, the wet sounds between the two of you filling the room sounding like music to both yours and Scar’s ears.

“Doing so good for me, baby girl. So fucking good.” He kisses your forehead gently. “Gods, I love you.”

“L-love you…” You whimper, digging your fingers into him even more.

Scar’s lips travel down your jaw to your neck, licking in a way that sends goosebumps down your body. His licks turn into sucking and you can’t help but clench around him, which makes him growl lowly, his grip on you tightening even more.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you, pretty girl?” He smirks with a darkened look while he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

You nod slowly and he glances down at your parted lips.

“That’s what I thought.” He nods, sitting up, pulling out of you suddenly, making you miss the full feeling he gives you.

“Wait-” You sit up with him. “I’m-”

Before you can even finish what you were trying to say, Scar pushes you down onto your front with a growl so that your face is buried in his pillow, forcing you to inhale the smell of him on his pillow. His foresty scent has always been intoxicating to you.

You moan softly while he trails his sharp nails down your back again, teasing you before placing a swift smack to your ass. You gasp, looking back at him with need in your eyes and then find him smirking down at your naked form.

“Tell me how much you missed me.” He whispers.

“I missed you…” You whimper. “So much… I always do.”

He leans down and places kisses down your spine before he retracts his nails, gripping your hip with one hand while guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance with the other.

“Scar… please.” You plead.

He pushes into you without another word. There’s no slowness to it this time as he pushes in fully, burying a soft growl in your neck as he leans over you, pushing you further into the mattress.

“Fuck, I missed you too, baby.” He whispers. “Couldn’t wait to come home and wrap my arms around you…”

You can hear the fear in his voice and you know right then that there was in fact a close call with death tonight.

“Use me…” You whisper, knowing he needs it.

He tilts his head for a moment before asking if you’re sure.

You nod. “Please.”

“I won’t be gentle…” He warns you.

“I know.” You’re betting on it.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, kissing your shoulder. “Tell me to stop if you need me to.”

You nod, understanding. “I will.”

“Good girl.” He gives your hip a squeeze and sits up on his knees, still buried inside of you.

As promised, he pulls out and then roughly pushes in with a dangerous growl. His hands move from the safety of your hips to the flesh of your ass, gripping so tightly you know there will be bruises in the morning. And that’s alright. You know he needs this.

He goes almost silent as he slams his hips against you repeatedly. The only sounds in the room are his growls, your whimpers, and the soaked sounds leaving your pussy.

One of his hands leaves your ass to trail up into your hair to grip tightly, pulling your head to the side so he can see your face. You look up at him as best as you can, your mouth open, practically drooling from how good he’s making you feel.

“Need to fill you…” He grunts, desperately.

You nod with a soft moan, clenching around him. He smirks again and slams against you roughly.

“You love it, don’t you?” He growls. ��Being full of my cum.”

“Y-yes… please…” You whimper.

He groans at the sound and you can tell he’s close by the way his head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut. You know he’s trying to savor the feel of you around him.

“Cum in me daddy…” Your voice sounds broken, desperate even…

But it works. His hips stutter and his hand on your hair releases as both hands grip your hips again, squeezing tightly as he falls on top of you, pressing you even more into the mattress. He groans as he paints your walls with himself, filling you as full as he possibly can.

He holds you there like that for a moment, holding it inside of you and you can’t help but smile.

“You okay?” You ask, softly, after a moment.

He nods and then slips out of you, falling to the bed as he pulls you into his arms, kissing your head. “Yeah… I’m alright. Are you?”

“I’m perfect.” You murmur, kissing his chest.

“That you definitely are, sweetheart.” He smirks.

“Do you want to talk about what happened while you were gone?” You ask, softly.

“Nah… Just had a close call, is all. Couldn’t wait to come home to you and Eva…” He mumbles, pressing his lips to your hair and holding them there.

You nod, understanding. “I’m glad you came home to us.”

“Me too.” He nods and then pulls you even tighter against him, needing your comfort.

You wrap your arms around his large frame as much as you can and squeeze. He lets out a content sigh.

“I hope you know I’ll always fight to come home to you.” He tells you in an apologetic tone. You nod. “I know that.”

“I love you…” He whispers, brushing his lips against yours. “More than you could ever know.”

“I love you too.” You whisper back, smiling against his lips.

A few moments later, he’s asleep in your arms and you don’t even care that you’re in an awkward position. All you care about is that for now, he’s home safe with you. Tags: @moonstrider9904 @justanothersadperson93 @idledreams

#Arcane Scar x reader #Arcane Scar/Reader #Arcane Scar #Arcane Scar fic #Scar Arcane

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xmads-omensx · 2 days ago

Note

Sorry if I'm overdoing it with yet another request.

Levi Ackerman x female reader

fluff/ one shot

Levi and Y/N are married and they have a 3 year old son. There is a visit from Santa Claus at the mall. The boy learned that his father's birthday is on the same day as Christmas. So, he demands two gifts from Santa Claus for Levi and also for himself. The boy says he also wants his birthday to be at Christmas too.

I don't know if I managed to make you understand. But the story would be fun too.

Thanks. I don't know if the same person can make another request.

DAY 21 - MALL SANTA VISIT

Word Count: 1,591

pairing: Levi Ackerman X wife!reader

content warnings: modern au, they have a child, fluff

Of course, you can send as many requests as you like! I really enjoy writing them so it's no problem at all!

Also sorry it took so long to post, I decided to use it as part of my 25 Days of Christmas <3

Hope you enjoy :)

Furlan was fascinated by the prospect of the shopping mall having a Santa Claus who could grant your Christmas wishes.

He thought Santa was only supposed to live in the North Pole, but his Aunt and Godmother, Hange had told him all about it.

She told him that Santa sometimes had to travel to shopping malls because then he could make sure he was getting everybody’s Christmas wish correct.

He couldn’t wait.

Levi was less than ecstatic when I told him about our weekend plans to visit the mall Santa that Saturday, but he went along with it to make Furlan happy.

That Saturday morning, we had been rudely awoken by Furlan’s excited shouts as he flung himself onto our bed giggling to himself.

Levi took him into his arms before placing a kiss on the top of his head and whispering a quick good morning to me.

Furlan had been counting down the days ever since Hange told him about the legendary mall Santa.

I got myself dressed whilst Levi got Furlan ready, then grabbed my handbag and jacket before heading down to the front door.

Levi had already strapped Furlan into his car seat and had opened the passenger door for me to climb into. As I got into my seat, I paced a chaste kiss on his cheek before he closed the car door behind me.

The entire drive was full of Furlan’s cheery voice singing his favourite Christmas songs.

“Hange!” Furlan shouted, pointing out the window as we pulled into the shopping mall car park. And sure enough, he was right. Next to her beat up pickup truck, Hange stood excitedly waving at us as we pulled into the parking space beside her in Levi’s sleek, black car.

Furlan wiggled with excitement in his seat as he anxiously waited for Levi to unstrap him so that he could rush to his Aunt.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Levi huffed, secretly glad to see his friend.

“Y/N here mentioned that you weren’t quite done Christmas shopping, so I figured I would come and keep her company whilst you and Erwin finished shopping.” She explained happily, hugging me tightly as we laughed.

“Erwin?” Levi questioned, his eyebrow raising.

“Yep!” Hange exclaimed with glee, pointing at the white range rover that had just pulled into the car park a few spaces along from them.

Erwin exited his car with a big wave as Furlan giggled in Hange’s arms at his Godfather.

“So what, you’re shipping Erwin and I off while you two go to visit Santa?” Levi asked with his usual frown.

“Yep!” I exclaimed, kissing his cheek.

Erwin walked over to the group and immediately began to usher Levi into the mall to “escape the wrath of Hange” as he put it, since he still hadn’t managed to bring a plus one to the annual Christmas party.

Hange and I entered the shopping mall shortly after Erwin and Levi.

The plan was to look in some of the shops before heading to the ‘North Pole’ that had been set up outside of one of the larger department stores in the mall.

We would meet Levi and Erwin there, as Levi still wanted to take his son to see Santa, despite the fact that he was never a huge fan of the holiday, or the excess decorations that looked messy and cluttered when they were hung up in the bust shopping mall.

“So, what have you gotten Levi? Because I have no idea.” Hange asked.

“For Christmas, or his birthday?” I replied.

“Christmas, you know he only lets you get him birthday gifts.” Hange replied.

“I got him a new winter coat that he asked for, and a new teacup for his collection.” I replied. The teacup was tradition, so there was very little point in me even telling Hange that I had purchased it for Levi.

“Ugh, that’s boring!” Hange complained.

“Hey, you asked.” I defended. “And besides, you know Levi only ever asks for practical things if he really needs them, and even then he only asks me to get them for him.” I finished with a laugh.

“But seriously, I want to get him something and you are literally his wife so give me answers!” She demanded, practically hanging off of my arm.

“Why don’t you get him some new gloves? He likes those leather ones but they have a hole in the pinkie.” I suggested, making Hange’s eyes roll. She never liked getting anyone practical gifts.

“But that’s boring.” She complained.

“But Levi will like it.” I mocked her tone.

“Ugh, why is your father so dull, Furlan?” Hange asked my son who clutched my hand tightly in his own.

“He’s not dull, he just has specific tastes.” Furlan recited to Hange what Levi often said to him when he didn’t want to get the pain sets out.

Hange and I both burst out laughing at my son’s robotic response, sounding exactly like his father.

“Okay, back to the topic at hand.” Hange began once again. “So I can’t get Levi anything for his birthday? Only Christmas?”

“Hange, you know the answer.” I began.

“I know! But I just figured that since they fall on the same day, it shouldn’t matter what I get him because they will blur together anyway.” She explained.

“You do have a point, but you know he doesn’t like his birthday.” I went on.

“I know. I guess I just keep hoping that one year he’ll change his mind and want to celebrate it.” Hange added with a sigh.

“What are you talking about mama?” Furlan asked.

“Your dad’s birthday.” I replied. I didn’t want to have to explain to Furlan why his father hated his birthday.

“Does daddy not like his birthday?” He asked. His large, round grey eyes staring back up at me.

“No, he doesn’t sweetie.” I replied with a smile.

“Why not?” He asked. Shit. There was that question that I didn’t want to ever have to answer.

“Well, kiddo, you know how I don’t like bananas?” Hange asked, leaning down to Furlan’s eye-level. He nodded his head. “Well, your dad just doesn’t like his birthday. He never has the whole time I’ve known him.” She finished, patting Furlan on the head and standing back up to her full height.

“Just get him the gloves so he can stop complaining about the hole in the pinkie finger.” I laughed after a brief moment of pause.

After much complaining from Hange, we managed to buy the gloves and head back to the agreed meeting spot.

Levi and Erwin stood next to one of the pillars by the makeshift ‘North Pole’, Erwin towering over Levi as usual.

“Daddy!” Furlan called as he let go of my hand and ran into his father’s arms.

“Are you excited to meet Santa bud?” Levi asked our son who beamed up at him, nodding his head frantically.

I took Furlan’s hand and led him over to the queue where he was to wait until it was his turn to sit on Santa’s lap.

The line went down quickly as each child took their turn to make their wish to Santa.

Suddenly, it was Furlan’s turn.

He walked up to Santa with a big smile on his face and giggled as Santa lifted him up onto his lap. I rejoined Levi and the others by the pillar.

“So, young man, what’s your name?” Santa asked Furlan.

“Furlan Ackerman!” He exclaimed with excitement, making Santa laugh.

“And what would you, Furlan Ackerman, like for Christmas?” He asked.

Furlan thought for a moment before answering.

“well… I have tow wishes.” He said timidly.

“Two!” Santa exclaimed. “Well, I suppose since you have been such a good boy this year, I can grant you two wishes.” Furlan smiled before answering.

“My Daddy’s birthday is on Christmas, but he doesn’t like his birthday, and I think that’s sad. So my first wish is that my Daddy likes his birthday again so we can all have fun and he can get even more presents!” I could feel Levi tense ever so slightly beside me.

“I see.” Santa paused for a second. “And what about your second wish?”

“I wish that my birthday was Christmas too, so that my Daddy and I can share a party and get more presents too!” Furlan exclaimed with excitement.

“Well.” Santa began. “I can’t change your birthday, but I’ll see if I can do anything about your father enjoying his birthday.”

Furlan beamed with joy at Santa’s words.

“Take this for yourself.” Santa held out a small wrapped package to Furlan, “ And take this for your father.”

Furlan took both gifts, thanked Santa before hurrying back to where we all waited beside the pillar.

As soon as he reached us, Furlan handed Levi the gift that Santa had given him.

“Open it.” Furlan demanded, sounding exactly like his father.

Levi hesitantly peeled back the red wrapping paper to reveal a small keyring with two wings on them. One of them blue, and the other white. It was an insignificant little keyring, but for some reason, it made Levi begin to tear up.

Then it hit you. Levi didn’t hate the idea of his birthday anymore, because he had his own family to re-write the past with.

Furlan’s wish to the mall Santa, made Levi realise how loved he truly was.

And that small, cheap keyring was a symbol of the love from a son to his father, which Levi would treasure forever.

#madsy says shit sometimes ig?#levi aot #levi ackerman #sanemi shinaguzawa #snk #captain levi ackerman #captain levi #levi snk #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman modern au #25 days of christmas

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