#i feel like i need a tag specifically for complaining about work because i sure do do that a lot

[account-name]

this shift feels like it's taking forever ughhhhhh i'm only halfway

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[ashwhowrites]

hi! Can I request older Eddie and student reader?

They met in coffee shop he's working in and since then they're dating.

One time he hears two student talking about reader (they said her name and ginger hair color) and one student's complaining how he flirt all the time with her but she doesn't even see it. All she talks is her boyfriend

And Eddie has been feeling insecure in this relationship because he thinks he's too old for her and she can do better than him but he's not jealous. He knows she would never cheat on him.

But hearing this conversation he became so self confident and appreciated and when she visited him after closing coffee shop, he literally can't stop himself from showing her his love. They have the most passionate sex in the back of the coffee shop. His main mission became making her feel so good so she can't think about anything else than him

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 I didn't include the specific hair color since I never go into specifics with how the reader looks so it's open to everyone.

⚠️SMUT, I wrote it high so I'm not even sure what I wrote

College boys

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She was near graduation, ready to be handed her degree. She had a small waitressing job to make quick money, and she had the perfect boyfriend.

She met him at the coffee shop he worked at. He was older, roughly in his thirties. He worked at the coffee shop for extra money, his main career being in mechanics. His rough hands traced delicate shapes on her skin. His mature eyes captured her perfectly in every moment.

She felt like she could remember every detail no matter how much time passed.

~

She walked into the shop, a laptop in her arm as she searched the menu. It was a new coffee place and she wasn't sure what to get. She felt nervous as she realized she was next and had no idea what to get.

"What can I get you?"

She opened her mouth to speak and looked down. She was at a loss for words as she looked into the most beautiful brown eyes she'd ever seen. He was gorgeous.

He had dark curly brown hair, thrown into a low bun. A t-shirt underneath his apron that made his arms look defined. She read his name tag, Eddie. She tasted the name on her tongue as she stared at him like he was God himself.

"I uh, I don't even know." she laughed, looking back up at the menu

"Hot or cold, girl?" Eddie asked, a twinkle in his eyes as he smiled.

"Cold," she answered

"I'll surprise you," he said as he punched in something on the register.

She smiled and walked off to the pickup counter. She couldn't help but sneak a look at him as he moved around and made the drink. She felt her cheeks heat up when he caught her. He'd smile to the floor and look back to the drink.

"Here you are," he smiled as he placed the drink on the counter. She thanked him and grabbed the drink. She walked out and got in her car.

She went to take a sip when she noticed ink on the cup

She smiled as she read his handwriting with his number below it.

~

And ever since then, they've been together. She called him and they went on a date. They instantly connected and the attraction was strong. The age difference didn't bother either of them. She was mature and so was he. She enjoyed their dates at his apartment. She loved it when she got to spend the night with him instead of her small dorm.

Eddie wishes he felt their relationship was as strong as she did. He couldn't help but feel like he needed to always prove himself. He felt insecure compared to all the guys he saw on her campus. Their muscular bodies as they threw footballs and ran on the fields. He met a few of her guy friends and felt intimated by a few. It was easy to tell they were interested in her. But he knew she'd never go for them or hurt Eddie in any type of way. He didn't trust the boys. No one ever trusts young guys, especially college boys.

~~~

"Thank you for dropping me off," Y/N said, she leaned over her seat and pressed her lips against Eddie's lips.

He smiled into the kiss and kissed her back. He couldn't help but deepen the kiss and move his tongue against hers. She felt her head spinning as he pulled away.

"My pleasure," he teased, loving the lost look on her face as she floated down to reality. "Better go, Lexi is waiting."

"Right!" Y/N said as she snapped out of her daydream. The taste of Eddie was still on her tongue as she got out of the car. She waved goodbye as she walked over to Lexi. Eddie drove off with a honk.

"I wish I had an older boyfriend to eat my face off in the parking lot," Lexi groaned, with a teasing smile.

"He's the best isn't he?" Y/N gushed

"He's yummy," Lexi giggled

"Who is?" Tommy asked as he slid in next to Y/N. The three walked into the building.

"Eddie," Y/N said. Tommy was a good friend of hers so he knew all about Eddie.

"Oh cool, Well tonight is the big game. Can I count on you to be my cheerleader?" Tommy flirted. Lexi rolled her eyes at his comment but didn't say anything.

"Of course. Eddie and I will be front row." Y/N smiled

Tommy felt his smile drop at the sound of Eddie's name once again. But he shook it off.

"Are you coming to the after-party? We are pretty sure we are going to win." Tommy said, "But it's just for the students."

"I'm not sure, parties aren't really my thing. And not sure if I'll feel comfortable going alone without Eds" Y/N shrugged, plus she wanted to spend the night with Eddie.

"I'll take care of you, and be next to you the whole time." Tommy offered.

"But then you can't enjoy the party," Y/N said confused, the three made it into class

"You are all I need to have a good time," Tommy smiled.

"I'll think about it." Y/N smiled, they repeated as they took their seats.

Tommy sat next to his friend Luke with a smirk

"I'd wipe that smirk off. No way she's coming." Luke laughed

"Why not?" Tommy asked, his smirk dropping

"It's only students. And no way she's gonna ditch her boyfriend for you."

"We'll see,"

~~~

Eddie leaned against the fence as he waited for Y/N. He looked at the group of students and the players on the field. He wasn't big on football but he'd go anywhere she asked him to.

"...Y/N's here."

Eddie's ears perked at the sound of his girlfriend's name. He looked on the field, where the sound came from.

He noticed Tommy with his helmet in his hands as he stood in his jersey. He rolled his eyes, he wasn't surprised he was focused on his girlfriend. Tommy was the main guy Eddie worried about.

"Here, babe," Y/N said as she handed Eddie his pretzel. Her other hand holding a drink. Eddie looked back at her with a smile, he could feel Tommy's eyes burning into them.

Feeling a bit jealous, Eddie threw his arm over her shoulder and walked to their seats on the bleachers.

~

Throughout the whole game, Tommy's eyes kept looking at her.

After he scored a touchdown, he winked right at her as she cheered. Granted, she's cheering for a friend but he thinks she's cheering as a crush. Eddie was older and wasn't going to dabble in games. But he wanted to snap that bitch in half.

"You seem tense. You okay?" Y/N asked, her hand landed on Eddie's knee. The game in the background as she focused on him.

Eddie smiled and nodded. He felt at ease whenever she looked at him. The crowd cheered and they both looked to see what they missed.

Tommy growled as she missed his touchdown, too locked on Eddie.

~~~

Eddie was closing the Cafe, sweeping underneath the tables as he waited for the remaining customers to leave.

He whistled a song as he walked and swept. He almost felt like he was crazy when he heard his girlfriend's name. He stopped whistling and looked up. But he didn't recognize any of them.

Must be from school?

"dude, you can't ask Y/N out. Tommy has tried a thousand times."

Eddie felt a twisting in his gut as he walked closer.

"Yeah, but that's Tommy. I'm better than him in every way possible." The random blonde said. Which made Eddie want to laugh. Y/N was obsessed with Eddie's dark curls.

"Being better than Tommy isn't what you have to worry about." The other boy snickered.

"What that old boyfriend of hers? One night with me between those legs, she'd have him out of her head."

Eddie's growl slipped and the boys looked at him. "We're closed. Time to go." He snapped.

"Chill dude. We'll go." The blonde said, the boys slipped out of the small booth and walked out the door.

Eddie felt anger pumping through his veins. Eddie looked up when the door jingled. His anger turned to lust as Y/N walked in.

Her long legs were in her shorts, the way she looked flawless in his band T-shirt. Sunglasses pulling back her hair as she smiled at him.

"Missed you, handsome." She said as she slid her arms around his neck. He dropped the broom and immediately shoved his lips on hers.

She was taken aback by the passion and desperation in his kiss. It turned her knees weak. She whimpered against his lips as he pushed his lips so hard into hers that her back was forced to arch.

His tongue was gentle and warm in her mouth. She felt like he wanted to be gentle but craved to tear her apart with his tongue and teeth. He was mature and practiced in the way he knew how to handle her body. His muscular arms held the weight of her body and his kiss held the weight of her heart.

"Fuck, wow," she gasped as Eddie pulled away.

"Remember that office in the back I showed you?" Eddie panted.

Y/N was lost for words as she panted, and nodded.

"I want you to strip down, nice and naked for me," his hand wrapped around her neck, "then sit on that desk, spread these legs open, and drip all down the desk until I come in there. Got it?"

Y/N shivered at his words as the image was painted in her head. She whimpered and nodded. He let go of her neck, his dark eyes watching her. She started to walk off, jumping as he landed a smack on her ass.

~

Eddie waited a few seconds, just to give her time to follow his demands.

Eddie slowly walked to the office, stripping down. He removed his apron, then his shirt, and his shoes. By the time he made it to the room, he was left in nothing but his boxers.

A big smirk on his face as she sat on the desk, her legs spread wide open, and her glistening pussy shined for his eyes. He could feel his cock suffocating in his boxers as he licked his lips. He walked towards her, and she shook as his eyes never moved from her cunt.

"Gonna cum just from the way you are looking at me." She moaned, Eddie chucked darkly as her cunt clenched.

"Oh, I bet. See you pulsing from here, pretty thing." He smirked. She wasn't sure what got into him but she wasn't going to distract him now.

"Gonna be a good girl and let me do whatever I want with you?" He asked, he yanked her hair so her chin was shot into the air.

"Fuck yes."

"Try again" he warned

"Yes, sir. Best girl for you." She moaned. Apparently, she said the right thing because Eddie sunk his three fingers inside her soaked cunt. Her walls instantly clamped around his long fingers as she shook.

Everything felt like it was buzzing. His hand yanks her hair and his fingers knuckle deep inside of her. She clawed at his bare chest as she was gasping for air. He loved watching her. The way her naked body shook, the sweat building on her sweet skin. How she bit so hard on her lip that blood began to leak, yet did nothing to stop the screams from leaving her lips.

"Loud girl today, huh?" He teased

He stared at her neck as a trail of sweat traveled down. His cock twitched at the idea in his head, and he leaned forward. His eyes stared straight into her heavy ones as he stuck out his tongue and licked up the traveling sweat.

She swore he was going to ruin her

She clamped around him as she felt herself getting close. The ecstasy burned in her stomach. He removed his hand from her hair, now moving his attention to her clit.

She let her body drop, going slump against his. He let his body catch hers as he circled her clit as fast as he could.

She tried to speak but couldn't get anything out. Her eyes asked and he answered. She let herself cum all over his fingers. He worked her through it, fingering her softly as she began to shake.

"Amazing job, sweet girl." He praised. She smiled at the compliment. Still barely awake as she panted.

"You take my breath away, Jesus fuck." She laughed, Eddie held her tired body and kissed her forehead.

"I know I pulled a big one out of you, think you can give me one more? Maybe on my tongue?" He asked. And how could she say no to that?

She didn't say anything, just pushed his head down. He laughed but easily let himself be pushed down to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her until his fingers were gripping into her ass.

She let out a gasp as he yanked her to the edge of the desk, his mouth immediately on her cunt.

She felt her jaw pop open and silent screams left her throat as Eddie slurped her up like a dog with a bowl.

She was embarrassed by how much sound came from her wetness.

But the sound seemed to edge Eddie more and more.

She felt his tongue everywhere. Inside of her, up and down, side to side. Then outside of her, sucking and biting.

She swore she could feel him writing his name with his tongue against her clit.

That same feeling was building and building until... He stopped.

She didn't have time to whine when he slammed his cock inside of her. It was so fast that she didn't see him take his boxers off.

He pounded into her like he wanted to bruise the shape of him inside of her.

He wasn't jealous, just simply making sure her brain was so fucked out that she couldn't form a possible thought that wasn't him.

The desk squeaked beneath them as he fucked himself inside of her. He was so lost inside of her, that he didn't bother to care about the cameras recording their every move. Hell, he wanted a tape of it just so he could send it to all those college boys who think they have a shot.

Eddie may not have a college degree or scholarship in football. But he owned her pussy and knew just how to fuck it.

She swore she had nothing left in her body to give him, but she wanted to give him it all. He felt amazing inside of her. The way his tip perfectly hit that sweet spot inside of her made her legs shake.

His fingers were back on her clit, she whimpered as he rolled her sensitive clit between his finger and thumb. Then whined louder when he pinched it, pushing down on her clit and pulling. His eyes watched as it snapped back into its perfect shape. Then he softly began to rub circles.

She lost her vision, eyes closed as her body felt everything. She never forgot the way Eddie fucked her, but this was definitely something she'd think about in her dorm. When she's alone at night and fucking herself. Moaning his name as she coated her toys in her sticky cum.

The harder she breathed, the faster Eddie rubbed her clit. His cock pushed inside of her, her pussy happily sucking him in. She was jealous of anyone he practiced with over his years, but she was damn pleased with the results.

She clawed at his chest again and he knew what it meant. He slid his left hand into hers, lacing their fingers intertwined. Then his right hand slid up her jaw, cupping it as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

They kissed passionately. The feeling of love somehow gained a taste as they passed it back and forth.

She came all over him as he filled her.

"I love you," she whined as she pulled back. That was exactly what Eddie needed to hear.

"I love you," he smiled, softly kissing her lips again as he slowly slid out of her. Their hands were still laced together.

"What was all that?" She asked, a glimmer in her eye.

"Just wanted to show I loved you," Eddie shrugged

"Goal achieved," she winked.

He chuckled and kissed her softly.

He had nothing to worry about, she was locked in on him and that's all he wanted.

~~~

"Thank you for dropping me off," she said as she leaned over and kissed Eddie's lips.

He kissed her back, making sure to nibble a little on her bottom lip.

She shook, still sensitive from the night before.

"Always my pleasure," Eddie smirked.

He watched as she got out of the car. Lexi waited for her as she waved to Eddie.

Y/N took a deep breath and began to walk to her, noticeably limping.

Eddie felt the smirk get bigger on his face

Lexi gasped as she looked between the embarrassed look on Y/N's face and the cocky look on Eddie's.

"Don't say a thing," Y/N warned as she made it to Lexi.

"About what?" Tommy asked as he walked up.

Eddie's prayers were answered when the blonde kid showed up as well. Eddie watched from his car in amusement, no rush to pull away.

"Y/N totally got laid last night. Poor girl can't even walk." Lexi bragged for her, and an impressed look sent Eddie's way.

Eddie enjoyed the way Tommy and the random kid grew annoyed.

Y/N covered her face in her hands embarrassed. The boys looked behind her to Eddie's car.

He smirked as he lifted his hand and flipped them off.

Eddie's girl doesn't fuck around with college boys

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[lizzieisright]

omega abs ? 😣

oh my fucking god yes

female alpha!reader x omega!abby

Palestine: what can you do

Summary: Abby is sure she will never meet her dream alpha after what happened with Owen. And then she meets you.

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, descriptions of smut (heats/ruts), Owen is a piece of shit, reader is a sweetheart. Also I'll always make Ellie and Abby friends because their dynamic cracks me up every time.

Notes: this one is genuinely weird in terms of my writing style. It's 6k long for no reason except that I wanted to see how everything will play out and build some kind of omega!abby lore. Also it was meant as a bullet point thingy like hcs, but then it got too long, so the sentences might sound weird.

If you guys want something specific with omega!abby, reqs are open.

Me: *slaps the title of the fic* this bad boy can fit a whole multichapter in it.

/-/-/-/-/-/-

There's one thing Abby knows for certain when she turns 19: she is not a typical omega.

Abby's scent is not too sweet: she smells more like fresh roses than vanilla. All other omegas have more prominent scents, and Abby sees how alphas favour them. She is insecure about her scent, and she is not too prideful to admit she wants alphas to like her. Like any other omega Abby feels pressured by society to look a certain way - and she is already tall, so she starts going to the gym to get fit, to look more attractive, to grow that bubble butt everyone's talking about. She just started university and she wants to be cool.

(Ellie tells her it's all bullshit. Ellie is her biggest supporter and she is the one who growls at other alphas when it's needed. It's hilarious, because Ellie is fucking tiny. "I'm still an alpha, Anderson!" Ellie whines usually and Abby flicks her forehead.)

The gym works: she gets more attractive. Her butt is round, her arms are toned and her shoulders balance her hips, making her waist look thinner. Abby meets Owen and she thinks he is the one. He is the first alpha she spends her heat with. And well, maybe it's not how she imagined it would be, but Abby doesn't complain. After all, perfect alphas only exist in books and movies, not in reality.

(she dreamt about feeling safe and protected with her alpha, feeling loved and taken care of. Owen is all growls and bruises.)

Ellie hates Owen's guts. There's always some sick smell when they're in the same room, and Abby is doing all she can to manage it and make two of the most important alphas in her life like each other. Owen tries to convince Abby that alphas and omegas can't be friends - and it works. Abby stops spending too much time with Ellie, tricked into thinking that Ellie actually has feelings for her. Ellie lets it happen.

(Owen is so much more violent during ruts. Abby knew this too: alphas are ruthless in ruts, but she didn't expect being borderline assaulted. Again, she doesn't complain. She is in love, and Owen knows better.)

Abby keeps going to the gym, and in time her muscles grow and show more. Abby is happy - she put so much work into her body and it shows now! She is so much stronger now, and she doesn't mind that her waist is not so tiny anymore. Abby feels powerful.

Owen, however, gets grumpier with every pound of muscle on Abby's body: he doesn't like it. He doesn't support her when she shows how much progress she made.

Then he starts joking about it. He tells her it makes her look less like omega. That she is almost as big as he is. That people won't be able to tell who is the alpha in their relationship. Abby swallows everything and starts doing more cardio. She wants Owen to be happy. She wants to be his mate one day.

And then one day Abby catches Owen with another omega.

She is small and smells like coconut, she is everything Abby isn't.

Abby wants to die.

Abby calls Ellie for the first time in months, sobbing violently. Ellie picks her up and spends the night soothing Abby, and the next day beating the shit out of Owen. Yes, she is tiny, but alpha strength is alpha strength, and Ellie is furious.

Abby doesn't really recover from this. She thought Owen would be her first and her last, but now her dreams and her self-esteem are in ruins.

Abby blames herself for Owen's cheating. She blames herself for building her body, for not being omegy enough, for having a weak scent, for not being what he wanted. 

So Abby grows distant, believing she has no worth as an omega. She avoids alphas, she doesn't recognize when someone's interested. She doesn't let herself smell other people. The only alpha she still talks to is Ellie, because Ellie is Ellie. Her best goblin friend who doesn't even react to her heats, because she is so used to Abby.

(it actually breaks Abby's heart a little: is her scent so weak it doesn't affect alphas at all?)

Her younger brother, Lev, moves to the city for university when Abby is in her graduation year, and Abby puts her energy into taking care of him. She comes to his place from time to time, bringing food or snacks for him. They have movie nights as well. It makes Abby feel less alone. Less useless.

One day Lev asks her to come to the party with him: it's his first time going to a party and he has no idea what to do, especially since there'd be really cool people who are his seniors and he doesn't want to have an egg on his face. 

"Can you ask Ellie to come as well? Please? I need more cool people on my side."

Abby laughs and makes sure Ellie is going to come. Ellie adores Lev, so she agrees immediately.

This party is on another level, Abby thinks. It's not frat bros and awful alphas like it was when Abby went to parties with Owen. This party looks like all smart and successful people in the uni decided to get piss drunk, and it is as cool as it is hilarious. Abby knows some of them - she waves at Nora and hugs Manny when he sees her: they're only people Abby kept in contact with after breaking up with Owen. They stopped being friends with him the moment they found out what happened.

Lev is very nervous. He clings to Abby's arm and she laughs kindly.

"Hey, relax. You're supposed to have fun."

"Yeah, I know." Lev says, a little irritated, but it makes Abby and Ellie laugh again.

Ellie takes everything in her hands and comes back with three beers, opening them for Lev and Abby. Abby chuckles at her typical alpha behaviour, but doesn't tease her. They share a drink, and Lev is still nervous, so Ellie takes him to the dance floor and he finally relaxes next to his second favourite person and his first favourite alpha.

Or so Abby thinks.

She watches another person come to them, and by the way Ellie tenses Abby guesses it's an alpha. Abby tenses too: the protectiveness kicks in.

But the alpha smiles and hugs Lev like Abby does: like if this alpha was Lev's older sister. They talk for a bit and then Lev points in Abby's direction. The alpha nods and waves at Abby. She waves back, confused.

And then this alpha makes her way to Abby.

Abby is caught off guard: the alpha is hot. She is also friendly judging by the smile and the way she treated Lev, and Abby can’t decide how to behave around her. She is not bitter after what happened with Owen, but she is definitely out of practice of talking with hot alphas.

You watch Lev's sister's face go through a variety of emotions, and it makes you chuckle - you too would be confused. But you want to meet her and make sure she knows Lev is taken care of: he is under your wing. He is a sweet kid, shy one, and you know how nervous he is about everything, so you want him to have this safety net.

"Hi!" You say cheerfully and give your hand for a handshake. You try not to think of how beautiful Lev's sister is, how much her blue eyes hypnotise you. She is fucking adorable, that what she is. 

"Hi?" And her voice is soft too. You blink to clear your mind and tell her your name. You can’t smell her, but you’re pulled to her like a magnet.

"I'm Lev's student guide." Abby nods, not sure if she is okay with an alpha around her baby brother.

"I'm Abby, Lev's sister." You beam at Abby and she feels her stomach flutter. Abby quickly tries to kill the butterflies, but you seem so genuine. She can't smell you when there's so many people around, and maybe it's a good thing.

“Lev gave me your number as an emergency contact, and I just wanted you to know if an unknown number texts you that Lev is puking after doing beer pong, it will be me.” Abby can't help her chuckle: you do sound genuine. Abby feels like you really care about her brother and it makes her feel better. 

Lev and Ellie come back and Abby looks at how Lev's face lights up when you smile at him. Oh no. He has a crush on you. It breaks Abby’s heart: she sees how you treat him like a baby brother, and Abby knows Lev has no chance. She also thinks if she looked like this when she met Owen, all star-struck and hopeful. At least you look like a better person.

Abby also feels how tense Ellie is around you. Another alpha thing, but this one is annoying - Ellie’s protectiveness is borderline territorial, so Abby glares at her. Ellie glares back, but some of the tension goes away.

You ruffle Lev’s hair and ask him to enjoy the party and find you if they need anything. Ellie only fully relaxes when you’re lost in the crowd.

“She is the coolest.” Lev tells them and Ellie huffs. “She always helps me around. Saved my ass a few times as well.”

“Well, kid, I don’t want you to get hurt by her, okay?” Ellie says and Lev blushes. 

“Don’t worry, Ellie. I know nothing will happen.” Lev smiles. “She likes people on her level. Someone like you, Abby.”

Abby’s heart skips a beat in pain. There's no way an alpha like you would like an omega like her. 

Or if there is, then there's something wrong with you and you shouldn't be around her brother. 

“She doesn't seem too bad.” Ellie says almost through her teeth; she is as annoyed at her nature as Abby is, but she tries to have a clear head. “But if she hurts you, I'll kill her.” 

Abby would laugh, but the image of Owen's bloody face and a broken wrist don't let her. It's a good thing he didn't press charges, too humiliated to admit he got his ass kicked for cheating. 

Abby forgets about you until she is getting ready to sleep tonight. She puts her palm under her cheek, blissfully unaware, and takes a breath that is full of your scent. It shakes her, having an alpha scent on her, and Abby can't control herself.

Abby's cheeks burn, her heart picks up speed. Her cunt throbs. 

You smell amazing. It has an edge, like any other alpha’s scent, but it's not suffocating. Well no. It is, but it doesn't feel bad, it makes Abby bury her nose in her palm and take a deep sniff. It makes her feel safe. 

And Abby is terrified. She can't like your scent. It's dangerous, she can't risk herself like this, it's stupid. Lev has a crush on you, for god's sake! And even if she could, you'd never look her way. You're a good alpha and good alphas like pretty, small, sweet smelling omegas. Not Abby. 

She doesn’t know that she also left some of her scent on your palm. She doesn’t know you’ve been smelling it the whole night, addicted to the smell of fresh roses and memory of pretty blue eyes. She doesn't know that you struggle to control your eyes from changing to alpha red the whole time. 

You're ready to claw walls after meeting the prettiest omega of your life that you know is sweet and kind and smart: Lev really can't shut up about his sister. It's fucking eating you alive. 

And you have no idea when you'll meet her again, but then you remember that both of you are in the same university. So you start trying to figure out her schedule. You know she is a med student, so you take a chance at going to the library. 

And you're not wrong: Abby is there, looking miserable as she takes her notes. Your instincts kick in and you try to think of a way to make her feel better, but you get your shit together: it would be creepy. 

So you just walk over and ask to sit next to her. Abby is surprised, but she lets you anyway. 

It's awkward. You both are trying to not inhale too much, but the scents are respectively addictive: you smell her fresh roses and she smells your spice and safety. You want to bury yourself in her neck and mark her, scent her, make her yours, but you push these thoughts away.

“How's Lev doing?” Abby asks, not being able to concentrate anymore. It's even more embarrassing that you both smell of attraction, but it doesn't really mean anything: it was proven to be an instinct thing, therefore not reliable in human society. It just makes everything awkward for everyone.

“He is excellent, honestly. He got interested in charity work and I think he will soon be cleared to volunteer at animal shelters.” 

“Good. Thanks for looking after him. I don't want him to get hurt, you know?” Abby didn't mean to say this, but you catch the meaning of her words anyway. She can smell a faint hurt coming from you, but it's not big enough. 

“I'll do whatever I can to make sure he is safe.” You promise Abby and her attraction grows. You blink, but get back into conversation, trying to find more about Abby. 

Abby is.. reluctant. She is polite, but her answers are short, and you're not an idiot, you can take a hint, so you apologise for taking her time and go. 

Abby watches you go and gets filled with sorrow. You seem so sweet, and it scares her. She can't understand what is your angle and why are you bothered with her. She is sad because she wants you to be bothered with her. She wants you to like her; but Abby's brain doesn't even entertain the idea of it. Plus, Lev is crushing on you, it would be absolutely unfair of her to like you. 

The sour smell of sadness makes Ellie restless when she gets to the library half an hour later for their study session. She looks Abby over and tries to piece together what's wrong. 

“Did something happen?” 

Abby is also reluctant to tell Ellie, but she does it anyway. Ellie frowns the whole time, not pleased with another alpha upsetting her baby. Abby is quick to defend you and say that it's she who is the problem. Ellie kicks her under the table. 

“You are not a problem. It's Owen in your head again! Let go of this asshole. There are better alphas than him, fuck, any decent alpha is better than him. Don't assume shit.” Ellie tells her and Abby nods. 

Abby decides to try. Maybe at least she can make a friend. So the next time you see her in the library, she actually smiles at you. 

You swallow. Hard. Abby is gorgeous. 

So you sit next to her and surprisingly, the conversation flows so much better than the last time. You think she was just super busy back then.

Abby is so fucking oblivious it's not funny. She talks to you like she'd talk to Ellie: she doesn't believe your scent, convinced it's just nature and alphas are like this sometimes, so she is relaxed. You can be friends, she thinks. You're great and smell amazing, so you can be friends. 

You're almost salivating the whole time. Abby is cute as fuck, and she is hot as fuck: she takes her hoodie off and stays in a tight crop top, and you ogle at her arms and shoulders. She is incredible. 

“I know we've just met, but I can't leave without asking. Would you go on a date with me?” 

Abby's scent spikes in surprise, and then anxiety. An awful, sick smell that makes you back off. 

“Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.” You tell her, eager to get rid of this stench, to keep Abby calm and safe. 

“Are you sure?” Abby asks, not really believing her ears. 

“I mean, I really want to get to know you better.” You admit. 

“Lev has a crush on you.” Abby blurts and you laugh kindly. 

“I know. We talked about it with him. I don't let this stuff slide when it happens.” It makes Abby feel a little easier. “But if you're uncomfortable, I totally get it. I'd love to be your friend as well.” 

“...I need to talk to Lev first.” Abby admits, her cheeks feel hot. 

“Of course. Let me know then.” You smile sweetly, your scent is so full of attraction it's hard to find an excuse for it, so Abby just ignores it. 

She smells excited now and you beam. “You’re so pretty.” You blurt before you can stop yourself, but Abby starts to smell so sweetly and her cheeks are rosy now, you feel on cloud nine. 

“Thanks, I guess.” She says, shy, and you nod. You say your goodbyes and leave Abby to study. 

Abby thinks she's gone insane. Or you've gone insane. There's no way you actually asked her on a date. 

But Abby wants to go so much. She didn't admit it, but she was getting lonely, and then suddenly you came along and made her heart beat faster. 

So she gains courage and talks to Lev. He gets sad, but not the sour kind, the faint lavender of regret. 

“I told you she would like you.” Lev smiles and Abby hugs him, trying to comfort him. “She is good, I promise.” 

“I'm sorry, Lev.” 

“Don't be.” Lev chuckles and they spend the evening watching the movie. 

Next day you text Abby to find out if everything worked out and she gives you a positive. You grin like an idiot the whole day and plan the date.

You don't get all romantic on your first date, since you feel like Abby might get anxious, so you two just go to a bar and have a game of pool. 

It's perfect: you both are competitive, you get to see Abby bend down and you get to flirt a lot after a drink. Abby is wearing high waisted jeans and her bubble butt looks amazing in them. You don't know this, but Abby was desperate to make herself look more like an omega, and even if she couldn't hide her shoulders and biceps, she wanted to compensate for it, showing off her butt. 

Abby is oblivious to your hungry eyes when she takes a hit, but you're struggling. Abby is sweet and she smells so fucking good. You're itching to touch her, but you keep yourself in check. So instead you compliment her. A lot. 

Abby is flustered: no one ever talked to her like this. No alpha made it clear to her that they found her this attractive. But you keep your mouth running. “Your shirt looks so good on you.” “Sorry, I can't stop staring at your shoulders. They're very nice.”

Abby laughs at this one and feels more comfortable in her own skin. So she opens up. “My ex didn't like that I work out so much.” She chuckles, and you look at her in mock offence. It makes her laugh. 

“What a fucking idiot. Only cowards don't appreciate muscle mommies.” You scrunch your nose and Abby laughs harder. 

“God, what is this nickname?”

You get flustered and Abby feels all giddy. She didn't expect any alpha to get flustered, especially not because of her. “You know. When girls, especially omegas, build up a lot of muscles? People really dig it.” 

“Do you?” Abby asks, coy, and she sees the red flash in your eyes. It makes her press her thighs together. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” You say and there's a hint of an alpha voice. Abby's chest is going to explode. 

You don't kiss Abby properly tonight, instead opting to kiss her hand: you like her, and you don't want to rush it. Abby gets flustered and you can't help the spike in your scent that makes Abby's cheeks red. 

(No, you don't get off on her scent when you come home.) 

(No, Abby doesn't fuck herself on her fingers when she comes home, burying her nose into her palm where she can catch your scent.) 

You both take it slow. You kiss her for the first time on your third date and Abby folds in your hands while you purr and knead her sides. 

Abby starts spending more time at your place, where you just cuddle and watch something. You start catching her scent all around your apartment, and it's driving you crazy. You want Abby to be yours so desperately, but you make yourself think with your head and not with your dick, so you don't rush.

You're in your class when you get a call from Lev. You don't pick up the first one, but when he calls for the second time, you walk out of the class and take the call. 

Lev is crying. 

Turns out his heat came during his class and now he is scared of going home on his own. Your instincts kick in and you grab your shit at a lighting speed before storming to Lev. You text Abby while you're running, and then your mind shifts into protective mode. 

It's hard being around an omega in heat: it's hard for the both of you. Lev clings to you while you wrap your arm around his shoulders and walk him from campus to his place. You know your eyes are red and you're low-key growling, but you keep comforting Lev. 

“It's okay. I'll get you home, and Abby is going to be here, okay? I'll keep you safe, don't worry. You're doing great, just a little more, can you walk a little more for me?”

Your voice soothes Lev and you make it to his place where Abby is already pacing in worry. 

She takes a look at you and her breath hitches. Your eyes are red and so hungry, Abby feels horny and sorry for you: she doesn't know how much willpower you need to keep your head straight when there's an omega in distress and in heat. 

You both get Lev inside his apartment and you retreat to the kitchen while Abby takes care of Lev. She fusses around, gives him pills and sends him to take a shower. You sit straight, your firsts tight as you watch your girlfriend being all motherly. This mixed with the smell of heat makes you feral. It gets harder to control, especially when Abby stands in front of you, her gorgeous scent in your nose. 

“How are you?” She asks, compassionately. And you grit your teeth. 

“Can you-” You start with a growl and you smell Abby's arousal. “Fuck. Can you come here?” You pat your lap.

The moment Abby sits down you grab her and bury your nose in her neck, your arms are tight around her back. Abby yelps when you press her closer and her scent spikes with arousal, making you growl. 

“I'm not- I'm not going to do anything. I just need a moment.” You growl and Abby swallows. Her arousal tickles your nose and you growl louder, pressing your nose closer to her scent glands.

Abby is so wet in her pants she is afraid she will leak on you, but she can't help it: you're usually so sweet, hiding your nature, and now you're acting so alpha-like, and it does things to her.

“Shit. We can't-” Abby's arousal gets mixed with anxiety and you want to sneeze to get it out of your nose. 

“We're not doing anything. Not like this. I just need a redirection.”  You take a deep inhale full of Abby's scent and you finally settle down. Your voice returns and you feel like you can control your eyes again. You ease your hold on Abby and the anxiety goes away. “Did I scare you?” 

Abby is baffled. It's such a big contrast to how Owen treated her before, she is lost for words. You're worried if you sniffing her scared her while Owen didn't care if he left bruises.

The air gets filled with the smell of fresh bakery - the scent of love and affection - and you almost tremble under Abby in excitement.

“A little. I was worried if you'd stop.”

“I have excellent self-control, baby.” You wink at Abby and she slaps your bicep.

She moves a certain way that makes her pelvis move against yours and you grunt: the scent of Abby's arousal got you half-hard already, and you're kinda sensitive now. 

Abby also feels it. She grows red and you giggle, kissing her cheek. 

“Lev is going to be out of the shower soon, I should go.”

“Okay.” Abby gets up from her seat on your lap and you pout. “Do you want-” Abby shakes her head. It's a stupid idea. 

“Do I want what?”

“Something with my scent?” 

You swallow and nod. Abby stands for a second, thinking, and then just takes her shirt off, letting you see her in a bra. You see her small tits covered by her lacy bra and adjust your pants. She is so fucking hot and this is so not the time, but your cock twitches and gets harder with every second while you stare at the most beautiful omega in your life. 

“You're a fucking menace.” You growl again and kiss Abby with hunger, the rumbling in your chest resonating in hers. Abby goes pliant and kisses you back. 

It takes you two tries to get away from her, but Abby is so delicious it's insane. 

You spend the evening in your apartment, getting off on Abby's shirt, fantasising about her going into heat and how you would take care of her and how good you would make her feel. 

You're together for a few months now when Abby's heat comes. You can smell it on her the day before, when she is all whiny and tired, sleeping for the bigger part of the movie on top of you. Her usual rose scent is getting stronger. 

“Are you close to your heat?” Abby hums in agreement and you swallow, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I can smell it.” 

“Oh.” Abby is surprised. She doesn't have a very prominent scent so she didn't expect you to notice. “Oh I didn't think you'd smell it.”

“Your scent is my fucking heaven, of course I would.”

Abby blushes. Deeply. And you feel her press her thighs together. It makes your dick twitch. 

“I think it'll start tomorrow.” 

“Do you want me to be with you?” You ask innocently and Abby chuckles. “I mean, we haven't done anything yet and I understand if you want to wait and have normal sex first. Well, if you even want to have se-”

Abby cuts you off with a kiss and you relax. “We can try normal sex now.”

And you do. It's slow and sweet and you both laugh when you bump heads and knees and when you have to fumble around for lube since you're messy, but it's perfect. 

You're not aggressive, but you still growl and claw at Abby's soft thighs, and it's a perfect balance of care and pure animalistic want, and Abby feels wanted. She kinda wants to see your control break. 

And then you dip down between her thighs and Abby yelps and pushes your head away, shy. “You don't have to-”

“I really fucking want to. But if you don't want me to, it's okay. I won't.”

“I've never done it before.” Abby admits, embarrassed. She asked Owen to do it once but he looked weirded out by her ask, so Abby felt ashamed to ask again. You stare at her in shock - a good-natured one - and Abby hides her face. 

You slow down and get on her level again, gently moving her hand away. “Hey, it's cool. I didn't mean to belittle you, I just- you're so pretty and so gorgeous, who wouldn't want to go down on you?” Abby looks at you, so deeply touched by your care she feels her eyes water. She smells of love again and you giggle, burying your nose in her neck. “We don't have to do it.”

“I kinda wanna try.” Abby murmurs, smiling, and you beam at her. 

“I'll go slow, okay? Tell me what feels good and what's not, yeah?”

That's how Abby ends up being eaten out for the first time. She loves the feeling of your mouth on her and how your fingers curl inside her. She loves how your eyes gradually become alpha red the closer she is to cumming. 

She comes down from her high and looks at you, half naked and red-eyed, like a predator you're meant to be, and her cunt throbs. 

Abby rides you until you're a grunting mess under her as she massages your tits and clenches around you. You growl, but you don't grab her or hurt her, just let her have fun, and Abby is so fucking happy. 

“I can't wait to spend my heat with you.” Abby moans and you cum immediately, filling her up. 

This time Abby gets to feel safe and taken care of during her heat as you attend her every whim, every request, from “cum inside me” to “I really want some chocolate ice-cream”. You do everything, and Abby can't be happier. She texts Ellie as much when you're out to get her ice-cream and Ellie just sends vomiting emojis. 

Of course then she tells Abby she is happy for her and that she is going to be a best woman at your wedding. 

Abby doesn't want to admit, it scares her, but she wants to be your mate one day. 

You come back not only with chocolate ice-cream, but with some junk food as well. Abby can't help but to drop to her knees right in the hallway. 

You also help Abby recover after the heat, bringing her snacks and letting her nap every chance you can, and Abby knows she is in love with you. She doesn't even need to tell you: she constantly smells of love and lust around you now, but she decides to do it anyway.

You're balls deep in her while she pinches your nipples and nibbles at your scent glands, making you whimper in her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”

“I love you.” Abby says sweetly and you shudder on top of her, and Abby feels how your cock twitches when you cum. Abby feels your fangs scraping her scent glands and she cums too, milking you. 

“Fuck, baby, shit! I love you too, I love you so fucking much, shit-” You pant and Abby grins. 

Abby likes making a mess out of you. 

For some insane reason, Abby's excited for your rut. She didn't like spending ruts with Owen, but you're so gentle and patient, Abby is sure she'll be okay. 

Your rut comes after a month after Abby's heat. Abby likes how possessive you get in pre-rut, even though you start growling at Ellie, which doesn't end well with Ellie's explosive temper. You get along well any other time, but the constant stare down irritates Ellie to the point when she tells Abby, “go fuck the crazy out of your alpha, she is so fucking annoying. Yeah, you.” Ellie stares at you while you tug Abby closer on your lap, scenting her. “Oh my god, get a fucking room. I know Abby is like, your Jesus or whatever, but it's too much.”

Abby just giggles and enjoys how your growling changes to purring. Abby turns to you and cradles your face. “My alpha.” She murmurs and Ellie groans.

“I fucking hate you guys.”

“Not our fault you fell in love with another alpha, Ellie.” You chuckle. 

“Fuck off.” She growls and two if you laugh. 

Abby stays at your place and you get to fall asleep with her in your arms.

On the next day you wake up with a heavy head. You're already hard and Abby is right there, soft and sleeping. You think about how her wet hot pussy feels around your cock and your pheromones spike up so high Abby wakes up. 

She can tell right away that you're in rut. Your scent is suffocating. It's not soft, safe suffocating scent that Abby likes, it's the one that gets stuck in her nose and makes her cunt clench around nothing. She wants nothing more than to get on her fours and present herself for you - this is how much power you have over her. 

“My rut-”

“Yes, I-”

“If you don't want to be here, I think I can hold off for 10 minutes and let you leave.” You growl and it only turns Abby on. 

So she does what she wants - she gets on her knees, her cunt right in front of your face, and arches her back. 

“Knot me, baby.” 

All your restraints break. You're rough and you make Abby take everything: if she is not cumming on your cock, she is cumming on your fingers as you fuck your cum back into her, or she is sitting on your face. Abby struggles to keep up with you, since she is not in heat, but she can't wait to take your knot, and she tells you as much. You growl and fuck her harder, feeling your release building up. Abby is so pretty under you, covered in marks, her tits red from your mouth. She spreads her legs and you pin her thighs by her sides, watching your cock disappear in her pretty little pussy. You finally push your knot into Abby and she whimpers, tries to adjust to your size, but you rub her clit and she clamps on you.

“Mine. My omega. My girl.” You growl loudly while Abby clenches around your knot, thrashing on the bed. It's too much pleasure and she knows you're far from done.

And Abby is right. You make her cum on your knot four other times, and only after she makes you cum again - which means she cums st least three times more - you give her a break. You're still sweet, but now it's possessive sweetness. You don't let her do anything, bathing and feeding her, but she is so exhausted she doesn't even notice. 

“I wanna nap.” Abby tells you when she is snuggled against your chest. It's a small break before you would get horny again. 

“You should. You did so well.” Abby giggles and nuzzles your neck. 

“Don't wait if you get horny again. It would be a nice way to wake up.”

“I fucking love you.”

“You better. You're my alpha. It's a requirement.”

“You call me your alpha again and you're not napping, babe. Go the fuck to sleep.” You kiss her forehead and Abby laughs.

Abby doesn't know if it's luck or destiny, but this time she is sure: you are the one for her.

(and she is right.)

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

You're feeling ill: COD headcanons

[MY MASTERLIST]

Rating: G Words: 600~ Pairing: none tags: SFW!, fluff, gn!reader, recovering from sickness, comfort. a/n: I'm feeling **so** sick (have a migraine) and decided to write these while waiting for my sleep aids to kick in.

Ghost: He's very caretaking-oriented and less so comforting. Clogged nose? He gets you a nasal spray and tissues. Hungry? Have some soup. Nauseous? Tea and saltines. Migraine? Turns off the lights and tells you to sleep. It sucks if you wanna cuddle and bask in his warmth because he will make you have the bed all for yourself so you can get better. Nonetheless, he's very efficient at taking care of you.

Price: This man is chronically sick. Not a day goes by where he's not nauseous or got a headache. (He joked about it in MW3, but frankly sounds accurate considering his high-stress job). This means that his perspective is a bit skewed. Will probably ask you "Are you sick enough that it's affecting your ability to work/study?" and when you say yes, will make sure to get you to bed and put a few meds, tissues, water bottles within your reach. Probably won't cuddle or coddle you, but will check in on you periodically and tuck you into bed with forehead kisses and words of encouragement.

Soap: (Is probably the reason you're sick in the first place) Will be miserable with you in bed. Everytime you sniffle or complain, he'll be right there with you, holding you close and grumbling "I ken, bonnie lass" in your ear. Will likely be all over you, hesitant to leave your side for longer than to get you things you need. Doesn't mind that you're sweaty/feverish/weak, he's rubbing himself on you like a puppy that's trying to lick you better.

Gaz: The man is a saint. He'll wrap his arms around you and kiss your forehead and rock you a little bit side to side until you fall asleep on top of him. Won't even complain about your bad breath when you have to mouthbreathe because of your clogged nose. Won't complain when you need to be away because you're overheating. Won't complain when you need all the lights off or the room to be cold either.

Alejandro: Remembers all the home remedies his mama used to use when he was little. 7Up for upset tummies, Caldo de Pollo for colds, loads of herbal tea, and Vicks VapoRub for literally any and every ailment. Will also hold you close, probably sit by your side and hold your hand and kiss the back of it while you groggily complain about how bad you feel.

Rodolfo: Also uses home remedies ^ but is a lot more likely to rush off to the pharmacy (even if it's the middle of the night!) to get you actual medication, especially when you're complaining about something specific like a headache or sore muscles. Will bathe you if you have a fever and feel gross and sweaty. Will spoon you from behind and play with your hair until you doze off.

Graves: Will let you groan and huff about how sick you feel. Probably teases you a bit when your voice gets nasally or hoarse, but will proceed to take care of you. Also whenever you get light-headed, he finds it to be hilarious. He parks you on the living room couch with blankets and pillows, tells you to tell him what you need and gets it for you. Also purposely makes you take copious amounts of Nyquil to knock you out.

König: Subscribes to the German (yes, I know he's Austrian) way of thinking that fresh air (and water) fixes everything!. Your head hurts? "Here, drink Wasser". You have a fever? "You need Lüften, I will open the window". You have cramps/nausea? "You need fresh air. Let's go for a walk. It will make you teel better." He means well and, granted, most of it works!! But my God, man, you don't want to go for a 3km hike when you feel like you're going to vomit.

[anystalker707]

When he's a damn tease (Sanji version)

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Check out: (Roronoa Zoro's version) Summary: Headcanons about him teasing you because he knows you secretly like him (there are two versions) Tags: version 1 has gentleman sanji treating you like a royalty while you're shy / in version 2, he is that too, but you make him flustered

A/N: anon requested something regarding giving sanji a silent treatment--gonna work on this next

MASTERLIST

• Maybe it’s just immense luck, because Sanji apparently just started to be more lovesick at your sight after he caught onto some of your comments, such as “I feel like it’d be safer if Sanji joined our group” or “probably the best cook out there, really”, which aren’t even too different from what the others comment, but the fact that it was you saying it had him swooning and nose-bleeding more than usual

• You don’t really know how to deal with it, so your reaction most of the time is to look down and turn your head away whenever he is being that extra

• “Oh, you’re so cute when you’re shy, (y/n)-swan!” he says with heart eyes and hand clasped over his chest

• Sanji always has that stupid grin on his face whenever you watch him fight, making sure to you’re watching him while he puts on his best show—if it’s a difficult opponent, he’ll start ranting about how he can’t lose because he needs you back home and whole

• If you’re fighting with him, he’ll do his best to help you out and be the most perfect pair, very sweet, actually

• The others are worried, at some point, that you might not really return his feelings since he is extremely invested in you—Sanji does love cooking and fighting, but it seems to gain a completely different tone when it comes to you—and you don’t respond a lot, however, the worry fades away once they notice you keep every single note that Sanji leaves for you with the dishes and how you’ll even eat whatever he prepares you slowly to appreciate every bite of it

• Sanji doesn’t stop treating Nami, Robin and the other ladies well or fancing them, it just becomes different. It’s clear by the way he starts wearing that specific shirt just because you commented how nice it suits him, and the way he doesn’t start complaining when you walk into the kitchen during his alone hours—he actually likes having your company while he cooks

• Then, he wants more attention from you, what leads to the actual teasing

• Sanji will be seeking your approval almost the whole time just to make you react and, of course, because he loves your company and pretty much anything about you. It might be the simplest thing, but he will be there helping you out because you deserve it

• “Sanji, we need you to go buy stuff, we can’t have you watching the ship!” “...Only if I get to go with (y/n)-swan.” Sanji crosses his arms with a pout. At first, he was worried he would put negative pressure on you by saying that just to find out how amusing you thought it to be after he made a joke with it

• “You’re still here?” Zoro raised an eyebrow seeing Sanji still hadn’t left after the crew split up to gather what they needed in the new island; he was staying to watch the ship, so there was no reason for Sanji to be there, unless, of course... “Only with (y/n)-swan!” Sanji grinned in a smug manner that immediately turned into a mess the moment he saw you.

• And of course you go, trying to hide how flustered you are because you will hear a thousand comments like “oh, it’s a beautiful city! Such a beautiful view, but not as beautiful as you” before his eyes turn into hearts and he’s melting again because it ends up getting you shy

• Prepares every single dish you want. Once, he sits down next to you with your dessert in hand, but refuses to let you hold it. “You seem so tired, do you mind if I help you out?” He holds a spoonful of it in front of your lips, and despite how it makes your cheeks burn, you find yourself accepting it, much to his happiness

• Sanji may put on a serious and smooth posture to impress you, but he’ll either be a mess in seconds—like when the two of you are hanging out—or just internally, keeping that face when he’s confronting any enemy or scaring off someone who shouldn’t be too close to you

• He will hold your hand because it seems fit, always saying stuff like “I’m afraid you’ll get lost,” or just keeping it in his grasp after he holds it just to inspect “how lovely it is” and press a kiss to your knuckles—really just treating you like a royalty because he loves it even when you’re too flustered to even hold his gaze

• Also, Sanji might find out about it if you have a weak spot for him speaking French, so he will always be slipping some words in French in whatever he says to you. It might be the simplest thing said in the right way, just a “here’s your food, mon amour,” with a soft wink, and you’ll already be dying internally

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

• Another version in which Sanji is all over you, but doesn’t know how to deal with it because your reactions aren’t that easy to read, then you actually crack a genuine smile once in a while whenever he does something and you’re the owner of all of his attention

• He might be swooning over Robin and Nami that he’ll just stop and come right to you the moment you show up, asking if you need something

• Sanji is walking around with the first buttons of his shirt undone and handing out drinks until he puts on the best grin he can to hand you yours. “Even on such a hot day, you manage to be as beautiful as always, (y/n)-swan,” he comments while you get the cold glass from the tray he holds out. You smile in response. “Ah, true? It might be your eyes, Sanji! You seem to be handling it much better than me.” “Maybe, but my eyes are never mistaken, that’s for sure.” You let him win just that one time, eyeing his proud posture with a soft smirk

• Will do anything for you, whatever you want or think about (he may notice you’re bored and kick Zoro just because you think it’s funny when the two argue). You do recognize what he does, of course, but it’s fun to play around for a little, right? Tease him back

• Unlike Sanji’s teasing, yours will just lead him into situations that will actually fluster him to no end and/or never give him what he want, but it seems more like another reason for him to keep trying and trying, as if he will come up with the right response at the right time, even if you never let that happen

• “How does my dessert taste, (y/n)-swan? Probably very sweet, but not as sweet as you!” As much as you want to let yourself get lost in his compliments and just give up already, you’re not ready to give up on playing with him just yet. “Maybe as sweet as your lips, then?” It’s loud enough for him to understand, but not to make sure it’s exactly what you said. “Wh... What, (y/n)-san?” he mumbles, uncertain and with red cheeks, growing even more out of place when you just chuckle, never answering it

• He will get really jealous when he sees someone else hitting on you. Once, Nami decides to present you someone else so you can hang out with just to reach Sanji indirectly and you play along with it, pretending you don’t see him biting his shirt and dying in silence behind you until you question “how could I want someone else with Mr. Prince right there?” and he miserably tries to play it cool after that

• Sanji will get a little too frustrated at some point and try to make you jealous as well, but it doesn’t really go well because he thinks his flirting just doesn’t work if it isn’t with you, then he notices you’re observing him from the corner of the club and things just get worse, to the point he can barely face anyone when he’s walking away from whoever he tried to use to get to you

• You chuckle as you follow him, pulling him by the arm just close enough to whisper into his ear, “don’t play around, you know that when I catch you, there will be nothing left of you”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

i recently had a thought about the reader's online friend!josh futterman, like if these two actually KNOW each other irl but have no idea about it because they use nicknames

i'd really appreciate it if you'd write something like this and I hope my description of it makes sense i used a translator for this lol

in love with your writing btw !!! <3

Bbgirl I gotCHUUUUU

Familiar Strangers

A Josh Futturman x Gender Neutral! Reader Series

Summery: They always say you never know when you'll meet Mister Right. But damn. This is a new level.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, coffee shop AU, Josh never wins 'Biotic Wars' AU, fluff, meet cute, online friends who don't realize they're friends irl as well, brief mentions of smut, otherwise SFW.

Notes: Alright, first actually planned series! Is it gonna be a slowburn with twenty parts? A mini series? Who the fuck knows! Not me! Let's pray, mfers.

                                 ¤•1•¤

                    °☆>》Maggie's《<☆°

"Please tell me there's a chance for us," she says with baited breath. "Don't tell me you're walking away."

The atmosphere of the small, brick walled coffee shop is calm for 10 o'clock in the morning, but I'm not complaining. God knows I prefer this over the alternative anyways.

"You know that I can't answer that," Oshua says to Tiger, agitated.

This guy, always trying to be mysterious.

"I've waited for you my whole life. You could give me a goddamn-"

The ring of the shop bell tears me from my reading, my head darting up to see who has come to disturb my morning of peace and fiction.

"Hi!" The customer says in overly bright voice. One look at the man and I already know he's the chatty type, not willing to just duck in and out, keys jingling from the black belt on his hip as he flashes a bright, genuine smile, waving his hand enthusiastically while keeping the other in his pants pocket.

Motherfucker.

"Hi!" I try to return with the same bright smile and tone, but I feel irritation spike into my chest as I hear the soft 'click' of my phone shutting off. "Welcome to Maggie's, what can I get you?"

Gentle sunlight streams in through the permanently clouded bay windows of the shop, illuminating the store in its warm glow that just makes a morning feel particularly peaceful. There isn't much foot at this point in the morning, most people already having arrived to work an hour or so earlier, myself included. It was a busy enough part of town, a good location for a coffee shop to thrive, especially with the loyal flow of customers from Kronish Laboratory, a tall, dull building dedicated to scientific research, and the little coffee shop that signs my checks often had the pleasures (read: irritations) of dealing with said researchers and keeping them alive while they work on the miracle cure for herpes. Most of them being particularly rude and short about their orders, usually in a rush for a regular cup of black coffee and swiping it from my hand before storming out to resume their endless work typing away at a computer to log their samples after what must be their too short lunch break. Or maybe too long. Can never tell with those assholes. Most of which I know through mental nicknames. It's partially because I'm no good at actual names. And partially my own form of disrespect and entertainment. Come on, you do it too.

"I don't know," the unfamiliar man says brightly, placing his hands on his hips as he looks at the chalkboard sign hanging behind my head. "What do you like?"

'Whatever gets you out of here the fastest,' I think. But instead I say "Well, what exactly are you looking for? Tea, coffee," the door, "smoothies?"

"Hit me-" gladly. "-with a tea," the bright man says just so... brightly.

Thank you for being so descriptive. "What kind?" I ask, trying to keep my smile sweet.

"Whatever you like," he says with a shrug.

"Vanilla chai?"

"Sure!"

I need to stop being so irritable when someone interrupts my reading. I'm not even allowed to be on my phone at work technically, except the manager generally doesn't care so long as I at least make half an effort to hide it and don't do it in front of customers. And maybe I wouldn't even really care about the interruption except I've been waiting for the release of this part for two weeks, and Nick had been so secretive about the ending he didn't even let me beta read the work before posting.

"What's got you in such a mood?" I ask the smiling man, turning to begin making the drink. Oh, size.

"What do you mean?" He asks, raising his brows, still smiling. Brightly.

"You're like a big... ball of sunshine," I say, gesturing towards him before holding up a small and large cup, now gesturing the two like they were on scales to silently ask his preference.

"Oh, I'm just excited this morning. I'm not usually like this," he says, laughing a little as a small blush grows on his nose, glancing down at the floor before returning his gaze to the cups, pointing at the small.

"Yeah?" I ask, putting the large cup away.

"Yeah. Finished a big project this morning, so I'm like," he shrugs, now scratching the back of his head as he tries to subdue his smile, pressing his lips together and now crossing his subtly built arms across his chest.

"Well, congrats," I say. There's a small moment of slightly awkward silence as the tea quickly brews, both of us not really sure what to say next. This is the part I hate about customer service. I feel bad if I'm not constantly keeping them engaged, but if they're constantly talking I wish they would shut the fuck up. I already can't read regular conversation cues, there's just no winning with this shit.

"I like your uh..." the man I've decided will henceforth be known as Sunshine drawls. "Apron."

I look down at myself, taking note of the dandelion yellow cloth stained with coffee at the bottom from an hour ago when it accidently dipped into a puddle of the stuff while I was cleaning up a spill someone hadn't even told me about only half an hour after opening.

"Thanks," I say, looking back up. "Company issued."

"Oh, we match!" Sunshine jokes, pointing at his grey jumpsuit. Alright, the man may be way too energetic for the morning, but at least he's entertaining about it. I take an actual look at his attire now, a janitors outfit with what I should've expected to be a Kronish Laboratory logo right above his name sewn onto the suit.

"That we do..." I glance at his nametag. "Futturman."

"Fut-turman, not Foot-turman," Sunshine corrects me.

"Oh shit. Shoot. Sorry, man," I laugh awkwardly, offering an apologetic smile as I pour the warm, steeped tea over the ice.

"Iced in Febuary?" He asks, giving me enough grace to not focus on the subject.

I feel my own blush creep onto my skin, a side effect from the name jumble and realizing I hadn't asked his preference. Get your head in the game, idiot.

"I can make you another, if you'd like," I offer sheepishly.

"No!" He blurts, straightening his posture and leaning against the counter. "I mean-" he coughs awkwardly, glancing away. "No, iced is good. I like iced, just uh- figured you... wouldn't have the same preference."

Please, God. It's too early for this.

"I don't like the hot to room temperature texture," I say awkwardly, searching for a lid. "Too... I don't know. Iced to room temperature is better."

"Totally agree," Sunshine says quickly.

Glad to know neither of us can interact with humans properly.

Another moment of awkward silence, except I know what to say this time.

"So, you work at the lab?" I ask. For the small moment I didn't have his attention, he seemed to be surveying the small cakes on display inside the counter beside me, looking at a little white cake with strawberry coating on top before turning back to me.

"Oh! Yeah, no, I just- Carl told me about the place, said I had to try it out," he says, shifting his weight as he stands. "Good vibes and all that."

"Carl..." I say, trying to remember if I've known a Carl.

"Big, like," he gestures his hands long then wide. "Works security, looks like," he makes a sort of stern, almost mean mug face. At that it clicks.

"Oh! Carl!" Deftones Guy. "Yeah, I know him," I say with a more relaxed smile, chuckling a little.

"Yeah, said you guys discuss music sometimes," he says, nodding enthusiastically like he's glad we know the same person.

"A little," I say, placing the drink on the counter. "Alright, Mr. Futturman. $6.70 is your total."

The dark haired man nods, pulling out a green wallet with an emblem on the front from one of his deep pockets. I try to get a clear look simply out of curiosity, but his large, tanned hand covers it too much for me to see what it is.

"Here you are," he says, handing me his card. There's more silence, this time comfortable as I swipe it, our machine beeping twice in decline. At the third beep, Sunshine begins to shift his weight again, licking and biting his bottom lip nervously.

"There should be money on there," he says with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh, it's the machine. It doesn't like working," I clarify. "One sec."

Quickly, I pound my palm into the righthand top corner of the device, right under the chip reader before inserting the blue, cloud covered card once more and waiting for the transaction to clear. At the much more calm, non-nuclear level beep we both breathe a sigh of relief as I return the card to him with a smile.

"Alright," he says with that bright tone to his voice once more. "Now I can see what's up."

We both can.

"I hope you have a good day, Mr. Futturman," I say brightly, still a tad pink from leftover embarrassment.

Sunshine nods and smiles at me, toasting his drink before turning from me and beginning to walk away, taking a sip of his drink and humming in approval, turning quickly and giving me a thumbs up before tripping over his own foot and stumbling into the door like a bit of an idiot, making me giggle slightly before I make myself look away to give him the same grace he'd given me earlier. And with that last exchange he's gone, and I'm free to return to my art.

The tall man looked sadly at- ah shit, I jumped ahead.

"I've waited for you my whole life. You could give me a goddamn answer, Future Man!" Tiger spat in anger and frustration, forcing the emotions she could barely even allow herself to feel overwhelm her in her attempts to communicate.

Emotional angst for my bright morning. God bless, Nick.

-

As I push open the door to my apartment, my phone is buzzing with still silent notifications of what I can guarantee are Tumblr sourced. More specifically, Tumblr messaging sourced. As I push the door shut with my foot, one glance at my old, outdated phone confirms my thoughts.

felinehusband: Okay, give it to me straight.

I smile at the notification, allowing my oversized bag filled with too many items to clatter to the ground loudly, unlocking my phone and responding quickly.

icanfixhimdotorg: Dude.

I walk as I type, entering the kitchen and opening the door to the small freezer to see which cheap meal I'll try not to nuke tonight.

felinehusband: Dude? ,:)

I smile at the message, picking out chicken teriyaki as I hit send.

icanfixhimdotorg: Worth. The. Wait.

I cross to the beaten microwave, the appliance cheap and secondhand from Facebook marketplace. It's honestly a miracle the thing hasn't blown up in my face or given me detectable cancer, but despite the large dent on the side, still usable. Google said if the door still seals and there's no opening, it was safe. And it got that dent from me dropping it on the way inside the apartment on move in day after I already paid $50 for it after getting it from some overworked mom who hardly wanted to even charge that low. I sure as hell wasn't gonna get a refund, or anything functional for cheaper.

I leave my phone on the counter as I open the frozen meal, vent the film and slap it inside. Now to wait for seven minutes.

felinehusband: Oh thank GOD. I've been anxious all day.

I chuckle softly, smiling as I lean against the permanently grimy counter.

icanfixhimdotorg: I don't know why!! You always post such good work :)

felinehusband: Well, I post work that always has good reception.

icanfixhimdotorg: The difference?

felinehusband: ... I'll get back to you on that one lol

I tap my foot against the floor, listening to the muffled echo mix with the loud hum of the microwave as I stare ahead at the mint green, poorly painted wall in front of me.

icanfixhimdotorg: No cervix penetration?

There's plenty of ways to meet friends. I didn't not bank on responding to a request for beta readers for fanfiction for some moderate, slowly dying game fandom to be one of them.

felinehusband: ONE TIME!

The quick response makes me laugh, clicking off my phone as I turn my attention now to my waiting meal that I'm going to devour much too quickly while working lines for my production.

Nick and I started chatting about six months ago. I had already been following him for some of his shit posts, midnight blogging, and when he started posting fanfiction I was one of his first readers.

'Biotic Wars' doesn't have a particularly big following on Tumblr as it used to. When the game first came out, people were going insane over how to beat the final level. The community thrived from memes, overly elaborate theories, fanfiction, you name it. It helped that there was a huge boost in the gaming community in general around the time it came out, what with 'Five Nights at Freddy's' cranking out sequels faster than anyone could keep up with, 'Undertale' breaking out onto the scene a little bit later. The gaming side of Tumblr was alive and thriving, and the amount of overlapping there was between fandoms only made it bigger. That was how I found the fandom personally. That and binging several different speed-running videos.

At the point Nick came onto the scene, most had generally lost their interest in the unbeatable 'Biotic Wars.' The fans that remained did so out of genuine interest or hyperfixation instead of temporary trends, and while good work was still being posted, everyone had at that point either begun to shift their own writing focuses, lost time to post frequently, or shifted to other platforms such as Archive of Our Own and had stopped crossposting to their Tumblr. So a decent, well paced, new angst fic following a lone Wolf and Tiger reminiscing on their old journies together as they attempted to survive a bitter winter night without any supplies other than an old tarp being used as their only attempt of shelter as they attempt to ride out a storm after a mission gone wrong popped onto the scene, people were immediately captivated. And even though it was a one-shot, the work received enough attention that a spin-off fic was posted within the following 48 hours. And once those two had blown up, Nick was quickly recognized in the community for his content, shitposts and fics alike. And he was very lucky to have overwhelming positive feedback. Until his first smut, that is.

icanfixhimdotorg: Nico, baby. It's an important first step for every smut writer.

Oh, it was brutal. First, he decided to go off the deep end by just jumping straight into some tenticle situation for poor Tiger. Now, granted, he did post a poll before hand asking if we readers would enjoy the consumption of some outrageous shit, to which 78.8% of voters said yes, myself included. But when reading a 'baby's first smut' fic, one doesn't really expect... that. But I'll admit, it was surprisingly good quality. Until the cervix penetration.

"Coiling in her womb." Yeah, Tumblr had a fun day with that one.

It took less than a day for him to post that he was searching for smut consultants and beta readers, to which I responded both out of genuine interest and a bit of pity since I was sure his ask box was filling with several new comments. No one was surprised when he ended up turning off anon for a few days. And since I had responded to quite a few of his works/posts already, I was one of the lucky few selected for such a job since he recognized me. And once the doorway was opened for casual chatter, both of us just kind of never stopped. Either by constantly responding to each others posts, automatic reblogs at each notification of a new post, or messaging each other about our days kept us both sane as we tried to just survive each new day as adults.

I look up from my notebook where my tragic script is scratched across the $0.75 college notebook as I lazily attempt to memorize my lines while mostly keeping my eyes trained on the old TV in front of me to check the buzz from my phone, swiping it open to read the new message.

felinehusband: So how's season four going?

icanfixhimdotorg: Dude.

I watch the screen until I feel the phone buzz once more in my hand.

felinehusband: No spoilers!! I'm still trying to push through season three for you ;)

Nick was sweet. Good for a joke, claims he's a little awkward, but a good friend. Sweet enough that about two months ago he'd let it slip he'd begun watching my favorite show simply because "If I have to see you go insane over animated anthropomorphic animals interacting with humans again without context, I'm gonna lose it."

icanfixhimdotorg: Binge it!! You're gonna lose your mind!!

felinehusband: You're gonna delay part 10 lmao

As I take the last bite of my meal, I realize the time, sighing as I begin to do the mental math of how long I have until practice tonight. Knowing how little time I have to prepare, I pause the episode and type one last quick text.

icanfixhimdotorg: If it does, it's worth it honestly. You won't believe this shit, Nick.

As I stand from the sagging, horrendously textured couch I catch his parting message while I stretch, popping about five different spots in my back.

felinehusband: Okayokay, if it means I can read your over the top rants again, it's worth it :)

icanfixhimdotorg: Excellent. Got to go, showering for practice tonight.

I trail quickly through the small apartment, grabbing whatever clothes are passable in public while remaining comfortable enough to sleep in when I immediately collapse into my bed around 11 tonight, an old, tattered, turquoise towel I'd stolen from my parents when I moved out, and grabbing my soap from the kitchen sink before making my way to the bathroom. Listen, Seventh Generation is cheap and works just as good on the human body as it does on dishes, alright? I'm trying to get a mortgage one day.

As I wait for the water to shift from its arctic temperature to something more bearable, I check my phone one more time to quickly reblog a gifset and read Nick's departing message.

felinehusband: Knock 'em dead, Mercutio :)

felinehusband: Also, I need some input later tonight for this like. Slowburn thing. May be an AU. Not sure, we'll see. I'm thinking coffee shop

Ah, yes.

icanfixhimdotorg: A classic.

                             >¤》○《¤<

I'm making no current promises on how frequently I update this series. Hopefully it'll be something I can work on while working and such, but we'll see what happens. My current hope is to post at minimum one request and hopefully one part for this series per week. However I will warn one of my current projects is about to wrap up, meaning I'm going to have to focus on that next week as much as possible, meaning I probably won't get anything done writing wise next week unless I aim for a drabble or headcanons. And even then I'm not sure I'll have time for actually editing and such, so don't be surprised if the only content you get next week is some rambles like I've been doing for Peeta lately or nothing at all. Alright, love y'all!! Stay safe, stay healthy <33 see you next time.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[thatfreshi]

Ok so... Idea for Astorian? What if the reader was some form of Flamenco dancer? Or something of the sorts, who acts like a bard, but instead of using an instrument they dance to perform magic. Not forced at all ofcorse!! I love the way you write him, it feels like you've nailed his character!

Uhm... if you guys want a part two... yeah. Let me know LMAO

TW - general horniness, reader is threatened at dagger-point

Recommended Song: Shirt - SZA

"Yeah, I just dance and then... magic."

The way Astarion first narrowed his eyes at you when you expressed that you couldn't really do anything else, he thought it was laughable.

"So you don't really fight, you just have fun while everyone else is actually doing things?"

"No, I have to actually be good at it! That's like saying you just open doors."

"Well that would be extremely rude because these hands do much more than open doors my dear."

You rolled your eyes, and he smirked. Now, this was before the two of you even slept together, let alone become an item. Over time Astarion has come to understand just how important of an asset you are to the group, but more specifically how he can't keep his eyes off of you on the battlefield. Whenever you can, the two of you find some time alone in the city to find you the most gorgeous flowy outfits, partially because they're easier to move in, but he also loves spoiling you, especially if he benefits from the view. He likes stitching little messages into the loose pieces of fabric, anything in between love notes and threats to people who have even thought about hurting you. The most recent one reads 'If the person wearing this is dead, you're next.'

Somehow, you and your rag-tag group have ended up being tasked with a group of bandits outside of Baldur's Gate. Does it have anything to do with the tadpoles or anything else important? No, of course not, but you have a hard time not helping people in need.

When you come across the group of bandits, it's apparent that they're not going to be a problem. While you're staking out their camp, Astarion comes behind you, whispering in your ear.

"If we make quick work of this, I'm sure we could find somewhere afterwards, for the two of us."

It sends a shiver up your spine, but you laugh it off, turning to look at him.

"You think you're funny, huh? Come on, we have work to do."

"Oh trust me, I know."

Maybe you should find a new way to cast magic, because it cannot be good for him to be horny mid-fight. Then again, it never seems to be a problem, so maybe it doesn't matter? Astarion certainly is an odd specimen, but you love him anyways.

"I am begging the two of you to stop flirting on the battlefield, please."

Gale pleads, wishing the two of you could keep it in your pants for once.

"Listen, once you find someone who completes your heart like Tav completes mine, you will understand. Until then, I'd stop complaining."

You nudge him and then whisper.

"Aster, you are talking to the guy who had sex with Mystra, and then became a literal bomb to try and win her approval."

"Damnit, I always forget about that! Fine, whatever. If Mystra were here, you would be just as lustful as I am, no matter the circumstances."

Gale grumbles to himself and walks off to the others, as Karlach prepares to make the first strike. She makes the signal, and you all take your positions. Astarion always insists on staying close to you, taking you with him on the flank if he has to. No one tries to argue, because he doesn't trust anyone else to keep you safe.

"Damnit, ambush!"

One of the bandits calls out, a tiefling. Gale casts grease, making their camp light up in flames from the campfire. Karlach strikes one of the bandits from behind, knocking them into the fire, effectively killing them. You don't realize though that one of the bandits had taken a trip to the forest to relieve himself, and he comes up behind you. Suddenly, you're swallowing fear with a dagger to your throat.

"Cease fire! Or the pretty one gets it."

As soon as the others look over in concern, the man's throat has been pierced, some of the blood splattering onto your face. Astarion drinks until your attacker hits the ground, the dagger falling out of a bloodless hand. You catch sight of Shadowheart, who is in close-quarters combat with a drow, and you turn to your lover.

"Come here!"

He doesn't ask questions, and he grabs your hands, spinning you out towards the fight as you send a fire bolt the drow's way. She falls quickly. Soon enough, Lae'zel finishes off the last of them, and Shadowheart casts water across the flames, making sure nothing else is burnt down. You try to catch your breath with the rest of the group, and you realize Wyll is injured, a gash across his shoulder. Normally Halsin or Shadowheart would deal with such a wound, but it's been a long day, and you're the only one with any healing magic left in you. With a few moves of your hips, you send out a healing ward, patching him up rather quickly.

"Thank you Tav."

Astarion comes to your side immediately after, almost as if he's jealous, wrapping an arm around your waist. As the others start going through the bandits' treasure, your lover wipes the blood off of your face.

"Surprised you didn't lick it off."

"I'm sure his blood was rancid, I much prefer yours."

If someone told you a year ago that someone saying they want to drink your blood was a turn-on, you would've laughed them all the way to Waterdeep. Now, you struggle to stand properly, holding your thighs together. He keeps his hand on your face, grip a little tenser than before.

"You need to be more careful when we're out there. I know these people were practically dead already, but some people won't try to trade you off like a token."

Normally you'd roll your eyes, tell him you obviously know that, but you just nod, and his thumb creeps over to your bottom lip.

"Astarion, we can't get this thing open!"

You're interrupted by a shout from Karlach, and Astarion kisses your cheek.

"I'll finish this later I suppose. Come my love, time to loot these insolent fools."

It's as if he set up the scenario perfectly, like he wanted the two of you to be interrupted. Hopefully he keeps his word.

[lokisgoodgirl]

hiiiii do you have any tips for someone who is just starting to post fics?? I'm an author but haven't posted ff in literal years and never on Tumblr, so I want to make sure I don't step on any toes or break some kind of fic etiquette first!!! <3 tia

Hey sweet!😍 How exciting that you're dipping your toe in the tumblrsphere!!!

Since you're a seasoned writer, here are some tips about other things:

No.1 Piece of Advice - Talk to people!!!!!! Be nice!!!! Let your freak flag fly!!! You sent me an ask apologising for being all over my posts ATM...DON'T!!! That is literally the best thing you could do. It's how you get to know other users, how you recognise each other, how you build little in jokes and suss out your people. Please please involve yourself in your fandom. Fics, silly things. Exposing yourself (careful...) and getting to know writers is honestly the best thing. Results will vary depending on other users you approach, but it's the best way to feel like you're not posting into a void. And reblog things you read, or that make you laugh! Especially if you're a writer, and you read fics... do unto others as you would have done unto you or naff off with the right to complain when people don't share yours, is my view (not you personally, just in general) (If you weren't aware, on Tumblr, reblogs are the best way to show appreciation/ share work - but comments are also great.) The read more button. You need to insert this on your fics (it's what causes the 'read more' line to appear at a certain point you choose.) A couple of paragraphs/lines/whatever in, press enter and this button will appear on the bar

It's the black squiggly one at the far right. This means that your post won't be 3 miles long and is more shareable - and also it means anyone who shares it won't have a huge long post on their dash :)

Tags/Warnings As well as your fandom # tags a lot of people add warnings at the top of the fics (for things ranging from smut, to various kinks, to anything triggering) Approaches to this vary, no ones perfect - but especially where things are obviously sensitive topics, include these to avoid upsetting people.

Headcanon Etiquette If someone's thought/headcanon they've posted inspires you, and it's very specific and inspires an idea - drop them a message to ask if they mind you writing something about it and credit them in the post because I've seen some absolute audacity in my time and it's never ok. I'm in no way saying you'd do this, but it's my biggest pet peeve. Just be respectful of other people's imaginations, basically. It's literally all we have here 🤣

Feel free to pop me a message if you think there's anything I can help with and I'll do my best 💖

[spyroforlife]

not gonna reblog the actual post I saw because I don't feel like derailing and I will always just give people room to be haters on their own blogs, I understand the venting, I do. But it's always so funny to me when I see posts like "just let this ace/aro character be ace/aro you weird fuckin shippers!!"

because like

babes

they still are

they literally are whatever they are in canon. That is always gonna be the same. The representation is not being taken away from you in any way whatsoever because other fans are doing what fans do and making silly lil shipping drawings and fics, because they just personally find shipping fun and will do it to literally whoever they find interesting and want to imagine in situationships

The creator of your fav ace blorbo is not gonna go on Tumblr.com and look in the fandom tags and see a drawing of them making out with another character and go "hmm you know what. I dig that more actually. So asexuality retconned, he's gonna fuck (character) on screen now <3"

That doesn't happen. Can seeing the ship art be off-putting if you can't see the character being like that? Of course! Yes! Not denying it! But like. They're not changing anything about the character in canon. It's not some kind of problem in fandom that needs to be fixed. Shipping just happens, pretty sure it's a goddamn rule of the Internet.

But I promise you, there is still gonna be a variety of fans who would MUCH RATHER actually focus on that asexuality and/or aromanticism and discuss that, and portray it in their works. You can follow those people specifically, and join in their discussions! And who knows, it might get more people talking about it, so you'll see more of what you actually wanna see with the character.

It's just like. Idk. I get complaining but I just start feeling itchy as soon as it takes a turn into any sort of "so other people SHOULDN'T do x/y/z with blorbo actually" because okay hit the brakes, fandom is just for fun, it's a hobby, shipping is just playing around in imagination land and who cares if people do dumb or impossible things. You can dislike it, you can want to avoid it, but trying to tell other people what they can and can't do with fictional characters??

idk man. just rubs me the wrong way I guess. And in the end I'm just ALSO bitching about a fandom thing on my own blog and this ultimately doesn't matter too much to me because I DO have a job and fandom is just a hobby for me.

But I guess I just really don't see people shipping aroace characters as a big deal, because let's be real shipping has ALWAYS been about ignoring canon sexualities, this is nothing new. People will literally just smash together whoever they find hottest, or the most fascinating, or the most fucked up, or whatever tickles their fancy. And what's happening in some weird lil corner of fandom just isn't gonna have any impact on what actually happens with the canon character relationships, and it was never about that anyway, so. who cares and let people have fun. I promise when you go back to whatever media your blorbo is from, they're still gonna be their cool asexual/aromantic selves, because canon isn't fanon

signed, an asexual who gets amusement from dumb ships because I know I personally would never do this stuff but it's fun living it through random fictional characters <3

[kamastar39]

Remote Job Search

Okay so I know this might be an insane place to ask… but who’s hiring for fully remote roles. I am trained in PR, visual art, and international relations and of course graphic design and have worked as a flight attendant. I have plenty of transferable skills and like most young people around my age who have graduated college, the job search market is trash. From the online search engines (linkedin, indeed, etc…) I always either 1. Hear that the role was filled months later, 2. Hear that the role was taken down, 3. (And this one usually takes some digging) find that the roles was filled in house. I always see posts talking about nepotism in the entertainment industry but no one wants to speak about it on a small scale, like the local restaurant who hires their kids as the chef, the principal who hires their nephew as a teacher. I don’t mean to complain about fairness, because if my parents handed me an opportunity I wanted i absolutely would take it, but I’d fight to make sure that I was capable and worthy of it.

I am well aware that we do not live in a meritocracy, but that does not mean I do not have the merit. I hate to complain here as this account is supposed to be my escape, but I know plenty of professionals have accounts here as well. I have had comments off for the sake of my mental health but reblog and I’ll check your tags. Believe me if I am turning to TUMBLR of all places for job search I have EXHAUSTED my options.

And I know I am not alone in my search. I am specifically searching for fully remote roles for personal reasons but you guys feel free to reblog with new info and tag! If this post can help any of us get what we need then my job here is done ✅

So as of right now…

Support a small artist

[part-time-zombie]

What's Bugging You

pairings: platonic dukexiety

summary: virgil usually spends time online when he's bored/stressed, and he never really expects anyone to take an interest in spending time with him. remus shows up to prove him wrong.

tags/warnings: crude language, but it's remus and virgil, so that's par for the course lol

word count: 836

Virgil was feeling overwhelmed again. He had been worked up all day what with everything that had been going on in Thomas’ life, and he really needed to take his mind off things. The others were all busy either arguing or working, otherwise he might have gone to them for a distraction in the form of a movie or even just a lighthearted talk. Today however, it looked like he had to busy himself with doomscrolling alone again.

He had gotten used to dealing with his problems by himself; he had done so plenty of times before the others accepted him and even afterwards every now and then. No one really seemed to actively like him, the best he got was begrudging toleration or respectful appreciation, but when it came to just sitting down and spending time together after a long day the other sides generally didn’t seek him out specifically. He usually just sat by himself and stared at whatever his computer screen offered as a viable distraction from whatever it was that was troubling him.

That was exactly what he was doing now, curled up on the couch and slouched over his laptop while he tried to focus on the murder mystery video he had pulled up. He could vaguely see one of the others enter the kitchen just out of his peripheral, but he didn’t want to take his focus away from the video so he didn’t pay it any mind. Virgil eventually felt the couch dip beside him, and he turned to see Remus staring over at his computer screen as he chewed on a cold pizza slice.

"What’cha watchin’ there?” he asked, leering over Virgil’s shoulder to get a better look.

"Nothing,” Virgil responded, a bit faster than necessary.

“Porn?”

“What? No, it’s just about an unsolved case,” he explained, hurriedly trying to move the computer screen away from Remus’ prying eyes.

“Oh, really? That sounds fucking cool! Is it about a murder? Can I see?” he asked, flashing him an excited smile as he scooted closer.

Virgil hesitated, one hand frozen from where it was moving to close the laptop. Remus actually wanted to spend time with him? That was new. They weren’t exactly close, at least not anymore, and most of the time when Remus was around it was because he had some prank or plot he was putting in motion. Virgil honestly didn’t think anyone liked the things he was interested in; Roman and Patton were unnerved by the spiders and horror stories he showed them, while Logan and Janus were polite but dismissive of anything he shared.

“You… you actually wanna watch this with me?” he asked.

"Hell yeah! If it’s got mutilated bodies or creepy cryptids you can count me in!” he cheered.

“… okay, then. Sure, I guess,” Virgil said, angling the screen for them both to watch.

The two sat together in silence, letting the video play in the otherwise empty living room. He didn’t think Remus would really enjoy his company all that much yet here he was, watching a disturbing video about a brutal unsolved murder case with an eager grin. He supposed it did make some sense. Remus usually showed an appreciation for the morbid and the macabre, but to think that he liked spending time with him was honestly kind of hard to wrap his head around. Not like he was complaining. It was weird but still kind of nice spending time with Remus like this, where he could almost let himself relax in the company of the demented side.

"You’re shrimping,” Remus blurted out, pulling Virgil out of his thoughts.

Virgil looked over at him, not quite sure what he was saying. “What?”

“You’re shrimping. You know, all curled up and hunched over yourself until you look like a fucking shrimp. It’s like you’re trying to bend yourself in half and suck your own dick or something,” he said with a chuckle, eyes never leaving the screen.

 “Oh. Okay, what about it?” Virgil asked, shifting his posture slightly at the observation.

“Well, you know if you keep doing that you’ll probably end up looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame. There’s a photo of this one guy, he was leaning forward in his chair until his face was like an inch from the screen all the time, and then his neck stretched out over the years and he looks like a fucking giraffe now. It’s honestly kind of funny.” Remus chuckled to himself at the visual.

Virgil sat up in the couch at that, straightening his posture and wincing slightly at the ache it caused him. He really had been slouching an awful lot, hadn’t he? How long would he have kept sitting like that had Remus not said anything? Probably too long to be healthy for him.

 “Whatever. Thanks for the info, I guess,” he grumbled, not looking up at him.

“Sure thing, emo.”

Virgil smiled to himself, already planning on which video they would watch together next.

@keitaisghost @yuckypuppie @britt-ish123 @nico-the-overlord @rougeside4 @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @new-zee-land @new-zee-land @can-i-take-a-stab

[fortune-maiden]

Stuck in traffic and bored so resurrected TGCF AU of the Day…

I’m not sure I ever detailed this one outside of some tags but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately especially now that my friend read the QuanYin backstory

So. Quan Yizhen. Martial God of the West who does not have any deputies appointed and beats up his followers sometimes but is still popular enough to be in the Top 10 and the West is probably doing fine

I’d like to think at least some of that is also Ling Wen delegating other gods on occasion, specifically Pei Xiu, who just feels like the designated grunt of the three tumors

Pei Ming allows it. Pei Xiu does his job and this allows him to some kind of foothold in the West. Not enough to dethrone QYZ and they’re not gunning for it, but if PX can get some credit for the work he’s doing, PM certainly isn’t complaining

Cue Qi Rong with the rumors.

No ones paying attention to him and no one know exactly how the whispers start. But suddenly it’s an open secret that PM wants to dethrone QYZ and set up PX in his place and the other juniors at Ming Guang Palace are pretty gung ho about it. People who don’t like QYZ are also pretty interested in watching this situation develop. People who don’t like PM are tutting but can’t really say much against him.

PM, PX, and QYZ are ignoring this as much as possible. It’s unknown if QYZ even heard the rumors.

But what starts as rumors eventually escalates and leads to several Ming Guang Temples getting trashed. The Palace of Ming Guang is furious - they believe QYZ instigated or trashed the temples himself and they’re not about to let this go.

Pity they choose a very nice garden party to confront him land start a brawl before PX is able to do anything about it.

Enter SQX, who is about to do something about it.

SQX drags all the culprits, PX and QYZ before the emperor. He has been watching this unfold and tutting and now things have reached a point where someone needs to do something - preferably PM gets censured but PX maintains that Ming Guang Palace is innocent.

The Emperor agrees - and puts SQX in charge of investigating

No one is happy about this situation. Not PM who is tearing his juniors a new one. Not SWD who does not want SQX getting mixed up in these things.

And definitely not PX and QYZ who are being dragged along with SQX to make up and help find the real culprits.

Or in which, SQX investigates the rumors QR started with a reluctant PX and QYZ in tow

Other plans in this AU:

- SQX meets a cheerful stranger who seems very interested in this incident. PX meanwhile senses a murderous intent from someone and finds himself constantly under attack. (This is Rong Guang watching the situation unfold and deciding what to do about it, aside from kill PX to make PM suffer)

- Yin Yu is also in the area looking into it for Hua Cheng. He is doing everything in his power to avoid QYZ and the rest… he is also probably the most competent detective here and is really torn about helping his former colleagues (or at least SQX) out

- Absolutely no one has faith in SQX as the investigator. PM pulls PX aside and effectively tells him to play babysitter/bodyguard and let SQX do whatever while he investigates separately

- the Three Tumors are making their own plans in the background. SWD is worried about his brother and Ling Wen feels partially responsible for all the odd jobs she dumped on Pei Xiu in the past. Pei Ming just wants the kids to come home in one piece.

- Everyone keeps underestimating QYZ who is actually paying very close attention to things and not saying anything because he’s annoyed and just wants to skip to the part where he can’t beat up the bad guys and go home

[m-jelly]

Hi! Hi!

Just wanted to start off by saying you’re my favourite writer that does levi x tall! reader works. So many people make levi taller than the reader when for me his face just reaches my chest.

That being said!

Could you do a levi x tall! slightly curvy! reader where they work in a plus size store but bc they can only wear the smallest size, customers constantly point it out and it makes them feel insecure about themselves. (i.e. they come home feeling down and not good about themselves etc.)

This may or may not happen to me often…

Anyway, tysm, bye!!

So, reason why I make Levi taller is because I don't do Canon as a main writing thing. I do AUs a lot and for me, in modern or other, Levi would not be deprived of the essential things to help him grow properly. So, he'll have all the food he needs and will be in the sun. Therefore, he wouldn't be 5ft3 but much taller around 5ft6-5ft8 because it was mentioned his father was short.

Now I don't normally do body-specific readers because I like everyone to be able to put themselves into the role of reader. However, because this involves needing Levi to reassure you about your body, then I am happy to make it because Levi loves you for you.

@kenkopanda-art <3

Don't listen

Pairing: Levi x Tall! Slightly curvy! Fem! Reader

Genre and tags: Specific reader, modern AU, being a couple, emotional comfort, body issues, comforting Levi.

Concept: You come home feeling like crap and Levi provides you with comfort to your troubled mind.

Warnings: Body image issues are talked about in this fic. Please avoid if this makes you uncomfortable. Please also note the reader has a specific appearance as well.

Levi looked over at you in the car and noticed you had a troubled look on your face. He gripped the wheel as he drove and thought about what he could say, but he wasn't sure. He wanted you to talk first instead of pushing and pulling at the subject.

He perked up when he saw a coffee place you liked. "You want a coffee?"

You gripped your skin a bit. "I shouldn't."

"Says who?"

You whined. "I just...I shouldn't."

"Talk to me."

"You'll think I'm silly."

He glanced over at you. "I love you, so anything you say to me isn't silly."

You rubbed the back of your neck. "A customer complained today about me."

"Oh?"

You nodded. "She didn't like that someone my size worked there. I do shop there, but I have the smallest size they have and well...she didn't like that. She said she believed that people should be bigger than me if they're going to work there."

"Right."

"I don't know what to do. I'm too big for some people and too small for others. I feel like I'm trapped in the middle. I try and lose weight, but it's just not shifting. I try and love myself as much as possible and I get so close to being happy with my body, but then someone makes a comment and I feel like shit."

Levi turned the car and pulled up to a parking spot at the coffee place. He leaned his head back against the seat. "Don't listen to them, okay? You are incredible." He looked over at you and smiled. "I know no matter how many times I say it, or how much I shower you in love and praise you won't always believe it. I know I cannot fix the damage in your head that years upon years of disgusting people have done."

"Levi..."

He turned his body to you and smiled. "I love you with everything inside me. You are my world and my life. I love you just the way you are. Don't listen to those shitheads, okay? Those that lash out at you for your body do it because they too are hurting. They attack because deep inside they are hurting and damaged. They think that hurting others will make them feel better, but it doesn't. They will keep hurting others until they face themselves."

You smiled a little. "You're right."

He caressed your cheek as he smiled softly. "I love you so much. You're an incredible woman. You are my precious goddess and I love worshipping your breathtaking body." He pulled you closer and kissed you. He said your name against your lips. "I love you."

"I love you so much, Levi. Thank you."

He kissed you again and hummed. "So, what would you like from the coffee place?"

You blushed a bit and mumbled. "My usual."

He smiled. "Great." He got out of the car and helped you out. He held your hand and looked up at you. "Don't worry, okay?" He leaned up and kissed you. "You can always go for another job. Want me to help you look?"

You smiled a little. "Sure, yeah I'd like that. Be nice to be somewhere where people don't judge me."

Levi hummed. "I think that's impossible, my love. There are a lot of nasty people out there. No matter where you work or go, you will always encounter horrible people. All you can do is spread kindness. Your kindness can make someone's day, just like a mean person can ruin another person's day."

You hugged Levi tightly causing his face to be pressed into your breasts, which made him rather happy. "You're so smart and amazing."

"Mm, thank you."

"For the hug or the words?"

He looked up at you. "Both. Now, let me spoil you."

"Okay!"

[cafeseoulmate]

baby bear

established relationship au; Why We (Don’t) Work standalone bonus; wc: 773

If there is one habit that Beomgyu brought from your childhood to adulthood, from your years of strictly platonic friendship to almost a month of officially dating now, it’s the way he would not hesitate to trade you to Satan if it means getting your old teddy bear, Ms. Fluffy.

The little white and red teddy was actually a gift from his mom to you back when your respective parents were still the ones picking out your gifts for your schoolmates and writing the gift tags as if you were the ones who prepared them. You were in kindergarten back then and though you weren’t in the same section, little Beomgyu still insisted to Mrs. Choi that they buy you something, anything to show you that he considered you close enough to buy you a holiday gift.

Mrs. Choi ended up picking out Ms. Fluffy for you when Beomgyu then mentioned how you sometimes complained about having trouble sleeping during class nap times, something you’d scold him for later because you thought that was embarrassing (regardless of how much he reassured you that it isn’t).

Then the name Ms. Fluffy, proudly given by your six-year-old self way back then, is from the fact that her fur is exceptionally soft and her ears stick out from all the times you’ve picked on them nervously. Beomgyu used to teased you for it during sleepovers but you always manage to eavesdrop on him affectionately calling the teddy bear by its name with a higher-pitched voice when he thinks you’re not in the room or not paying attention.

Though it’s a gift from him to you, it does often feel like he just had his mom buy it for you to have an excuse to have a teddy bear. You’re pretty sure if your boyfriend were to choose between saving you and Ms. Fluffy from drowning, he’s probably going after your teddy bear first.

He always moves her little arms and legs to imitate walking and dancing, conjures up a specific high-pitched voice as if to make her talk, hugs her to his chest whenever he’s in your dorm or at your house, and shamelesslt borrows and steals her before you could leave for a trip.

And, naturally, since you started dating officially last Christmas break, Beomgyu’s obsession with Ms. Fluffy has grown exponentially worse.

You don’t know if you’re going to be endeared or annoyed specifically with how he always places the teddy bear either between the two of you or on your laps during movie nights, calling the teddy bear your baby and treating her like she’s actually your child accompanying you on your stay-home dates.

It makes your heart flutter, of course, but when you do actually want to hug Ms. Fluffy, Beomgyu’s somehow always objecting to it.

“She’s my kid originally, why can’t I hug my own kid?” You pout, playing along to Beomgyu’s antics in the hopes that he would give in this time. Tonight, Insidious is streaming on Beomgyu’s laptop because you both thought that your respective cowardice would cancel each other out. “Let me have Ms. Fluffy, Gyu!”

Beomgyu, however, stubborn as he is, pouts back even harder while keeping Ms. Fluffy in place between the two of you. “Uh, no, she stays in the middle.” He insists for the second time, patting Ms. Fluffy’s head. “Let her watch the movie in peace, Y/N. What if she wants to actually sit through a horror movie?”

“What if she gets scared like me, though? Look at her, she’ll need hugs too!”

“Then I’ll hug you both like this!” Your boyfriend then circles his arms over you, his hoodie sleeves covering Ms. Fluffy just as the doorbell starts ringing in the movie. “See? I’ll just protect you both!”

You scoff teasingly, though you do already feel your insides melting at the gesture. “I want to hug just Ms. Fluffy, though.”

He glares down at you immediately in response. “I’ll divorce you and take custody of Ms. Fluffy.” He threatens, making you stifle a giggle. “I’m being serious, Y/N!”

Serious Beomgyu, however, is always an adorable sight to see with his pout and his furrowed brows, so much so that you easily break character after this and reach a hand up to pinch his cheeks. “You’re so cute.”

“Hug me back, then! I’m not waiting all day!”

“Fine, fine, you grumpy baby.” You roll your eyes, picking up Ms. Fluffy from between the two of you and directing her arms to Beomgyu’s neck before hugging the two. “Better?”

“Suddenly, I’m not in the mood to watch a movie anymore. Let’s just cuddle, I think Ms. Fluffy would also agree.”

“Agreed.”

barista’s notes: merry christmas everyone! 💗🎄

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: ptsd, death, blood, implied gore, descriptions of dead bodies, choking, murder, abuse, manipulation, conditioning, implied sa references, trafficking references, implied violence, imprisonment, and reference to human experimentation (kind of a minor spoiler for this chpater but not really - this last point is regarding the abuse Jeluna suffered, so it's mostly events that have already been established but they actually get labelled as experimentation in this chapter)

AO3 link

Chapter 47 - Kaz

Kaz marched back to East Stave with fire in his throat, his cane crashing against the cobbles like he was trying to break them in half. The sun was still trying to make an appearance between the clouds but the air was damp and Kaz’s leg was screaming its complaints; the rain would start soon, he was sure. 

The Slat came into view ahead of him, a welcome sight even if he wasn’t staying long - he had too much work to do for that, Layla had made sure of it. It wasn’t just about finding someone to cover the tables, it was that no-one could work the tables like Layla did; really Elodie would have been a terrible second option, she was too quiet, too mousy, but Kaz had thought she must have at least some sort of mask to put on if she’d been waiting on customers at the White Rose. Still, he knew really she wouldn’t have been able to draw anything out of these high rollers the way that Layla always did. 

“They make it easy,” she’s said once, years ago now, after more than enough glasses of whatever cheap as shit wine Haskell had wrangled that week, “It’s like once they see me all other thoughts - oh, whoops - all other thoughts go pshhhh,”

She mimicked, waving a hand from her head up towards the ceiling, and almost threw her glass across the room. Kaz took it off her, unamused. 

“Right outta their heads. Just bam,” she clapped her hands together, “And s’all gone,”

Layla was quite possibly mad, but she was damn good at her job and for as long as it stayed that way Kaz wasn’t going to complain. Except for today, he conceded, because she wasn’t going to show up. Inej had been frustratingly correct; if Layla wasn’t coming to work, it had to be serious enough that they didn’t want her there. Though Kaz also couldn’t rule out the possibility that she’d spent the years he’d known her cultivating a very specific reputation, just so that when she did finally bunk off - or double cross him - no-one saw it coming, no matter how unlikely that was. After all, nobody had seen her today. She hadn’t sent someone in on her behalf to tell Kaz that she was ill, just a rough little note. 

He was overthinking this. Besides, no-one was committed enough to a cover that they intentionally came to work with firepox, were they? 

Kaz decided to send someone to cover her door at the Slat once he got inside, just to be safe.

It wasn’t until Kaz had almost reached the front door that Jesper and Wylan appeared around the corner, seemingly on the way back from West Stave. Kaz’s first thought was that Nina hadn’t been exaggerating about Wylan’s scars; they couldn’t exactly have been described as subtle - but did that dissuade him from the belief that Wylan could see more than he was letting on? The cloudiness over his irises had vanished. It was hard to argue that the scars didn’t look realistic, certainly, but Kaz didn’t feel immediately convinced. He was rarely immediately convinced of anything. 

His second thought was that Wylan did not look well. Despite not having used a cane since coming to Barrel he seemed to get around reasonably well, often using tactile aids around him or the company of someone sighted, but now he was unsteady on his feet and the arm he’d hooked round Jesper’s elbow was clearly taking more weight than he wanted to admit to either of them. He was paler than usual, noticeably so even as they approached each other, his pupils were dilated, and the dark shadows under his eyes were emphasised. 

“You passed out again,” said Kaz, by way of greeting. 

“I- how-?”

“Well, hello to you too, Kaz,” Jesper gave him a cheery wave, and Kaz ignored him. 

“Roeder said this has happened before,” he continued, adjusting his weight against his cane as halted, “How often?”

Wylan’s cheeks heated in indignation; he more than knew by now, of course, that Kaz had sent someone to watch him and Kaz knew that Roeder had fought off more than one idiot who either didn’t know Wylan was under Dregs’ protection or had been stupid enough to take a try anyway, but every time it happened to come up in conversation Wylan responded the same way. 

“Not often,” he just about managed, after a moment of hesitation, “This was- this was the first time in a while,”

Kaz didn’t protest, but he wasn’t entirely convinced - and he needed to know if this was a growing issue. He couldn’t afford for Wylan to collapse with a bomb in his hand, and definitely not if it happened at the workshop. There was far too much money wrapped up in there. He said nothing, turning to the front door of the Slat and paying little attention to the pair once they were out of his eyeline, but still made a mental note to speak to Nina - she might be able to find the cause and monitor things, at least, if there was no way of stopping them. 

“Anika,”

Kaz moved his hand in a short, deliberate beckon and Anika stood to follow him towards the stairs. 

“Layla can’t work tonight, I need you to-”

“I can wait on tables, Kaz,” Anika shook her head, apparently missing Kaz’s bristle at being cut off, “But I can’t control an audience like she can, and I definitely won’t be-”

No, Kaz thought, and we definitely need that tonight. One in particular, he noted, had connections to Councilman Hoede and, no matter how tenuous they might be, Kaz was sure as hell going to make use of them. No, Anika could not do what Layla did. But I’m sure I know somebody who can.

“You don’t need to,” he said tightly, “As I was saying, I need you upstairs to watch her door - and keep someone on Pietro as well, Bieren maybe. Someone else is going to cover the game,”

“Why do you-?” Anika looked up through her yellow lashes to lock eyes with Kaz, and swallowed her original question to replace it with: “Who’s covering?”

“Guess,”

Anika smiled. 

“I’ll send a message,” she said, “If that’s all?”

“Tell her to get here an hour early. She’ll need time to learn information on the marks. I want you to stay on Layla all day and night - don’t hide that you’re there, but don’t let her know that I sent you. You’re the closest thing we have to half-competent-”

“You flatter me,”

“-so it shouldn’t be suspicious if you decided to check in. She does anything suspicious then let me know, other than that… well, as I said, you’re the closest she’s getting to a half-competent Medik around here,”

“There are so many problems with this plan that I don’t know where to start,”

“Bite your tongue, Anika, and just do your damn job,”

Anika gave him a mock salute before she sauntered off, her thumb hooked through the belt loop of her trousers as she shouted for Bieren across the room. Kaz paced upstairs, his mind whirring through everything that needed to be done for tonight - and everything they might be able to garner from it. He was only becoming more certain that Jeluna was somehow linked to the reports of unusual activity across the Geldstraat these past few months - but did that mean that Tara and Amethyst were somehow related to it all as well? It seemed unlikely that Councilman Hoede was the one who’d murdered them. Well, it wouldn’t have been unreasonable to suspect him after Tara’s death, but after what had been done to Amethyst… no, there was something different there. And anyway, it seemed that it was only Jeluna whose time had been paid for - but was that because Hoede was getting smarter? He could have had Tara and Amethyst abducted, thinking that no-one would notice their absence the same way no-one noticed the girl he took the previous month and been caught off-guard when they were reported missing. So instead of abducting Jeluna he made a deal with Kaatje de Waal to keep her for two weeks; maybe Jeluna really had managed an escape but if she had - 

No, that didn’t make sense. If Jeluna knew that he’d paid Kaatje for her to stay there, it would take a hell of a lot to make her run. And the lack of memory; Kaz assumed it was from some kind of drugs, and if that was the case - for what else could it be? - then running would only be farther from the realm of possibility. Then what? Kaz tried to think through the facts, to summarise them in his head. 

A girl was abducted from a pleasure house on West Stave and showed up dead over a week later. A month after that, Tara went missing from the Menagerie and returned in much the same manner. At a much sooner interval Amethyst was taken from the Sweet Shoppe, and rediscovered in a far more gruesome death. There were efforts to make them all look like crimes of passion; the first two girls were choked, the last stripped of her silks, all of them missing for some time before their unpleasant reappearance. Tara’s body had been returned to the Menagerie; Amethyst was found on the steps outside the Exchange; Kaz didn’t know much about the first girl’s discovery, barring the reported cause of death. There had been a pause - maybe the violence of Amethyst’s death had gotten out of hand? They weren’t expecting it, and had to lie low for a while? - before Nina spoke to a girl at the Willow Switch and learned that Jeluna Kir-Mai was missing. And that was strange as well, wasn’t it? Whatever her name was - Kheja? - had insistently told Nina that Jeluna was unavailable and then proceeded to slip her a note that said they took her. But it wasn’t until two weeks later that Jeluna was considered missing. 

Kaz was missing something. He had to be. 

Was it at all possible that Tara’s death had been more than it seemed? After all, bruising wasn’t difficult for a Corporalnik to invent, was it? Maybe whatever the cause was had actually been more similar to Amethyst’s than he had realised, just more subtle. And if so, could Jeluna’s memory loss be linked back to the same trigger? 

Some Grisha can do that, can’t they? Jesper had asked, when Kaz told him about Amethyst’s body, They say the Darkling could.

Kaz had dismissed it - what he understood of the Cut meant it would be cleaner than what he’d seen at the Exchange, a different kind of precision to its power. This had been messy, frenzied even. Passionate - but what if there was more behind the theory than he’d considered? His first thought had been that Amethyst had been the victim of some kind of weapons testing, and he’d disregarded it because Tara didn’t seem to fit the image. But what if both things were true? If there was really more to Tara’s death than it had seemed, if something unnatural had been done to all of them… was there some way of harnessing Grisha power to create a weapon? Kaz had no idea. Nothing of the sort had ever been done before, nothing of the sort could even have been considered possible before - and even if that was the case, it hardly solved this mystery. 

Kaz could not keep track of the threads that were weaving around each other now, too many to count and too closely wound to find and undo their knots. But he thought that solving the question of Councilman Hoede may very well be a good start. 

The rain began whilst Kaz sat at his desk, working on a ledger for the Crow Club, and quickly thickened to heavy tears streaking down the window panes and hammering on the roof. By the time Inej climbed through the window it was probably wet enough to call a storm, and Inej was dripping. Kaz looked up at her, studying the loose pieces of hair that had become plastered to her forehead. For one small, inane moment he almost offered her a towel, and had to resist physically shaking himself free of the thought. 

“You’re late,” he said, looking back to his books. 

He could picture Inej’s face without turning his gaze to her, could practically hear her bristling from across the room.

“It took a long time to settle Jeluna,” she said.

Kaz nodded, still not looking up, and tapped his pen against the page. 

“Well?”

He’d expected - maybe even hoped - that Inej would return to her usual perch on the windowsill as she gave him her report. He had found himself craving the normalcy, the comfort of their routine. Maybe it was better that she just stood there, eyes cold, and spoke to him like she was reading off a script. Maybe he could shatter whatever illusion he’d been constructing between them, and let them both get on with their jobs. 

Inej rattled through her usual report, the Black Tips and the Dime Lions mostly, and then:

“Oh, and Councilman Hoede’s house has been shut off,”

Kaz looked up. 

“The whole place was crawling with stadwatch, but they’re saying it’s going under quarantine for a firepos outbreak. I couldn’t get close enough to find out if it was family or staff, the barriers…”

She kept talking, but Kaz had stopped hearing anything she said. His first, very brief thought, was that if there were no abductions for the next month or so it would go a long way in confirming whether it was Hoede himself behind them. His next, much longer and much more in the foreground thought was that of ten thousand screaming alarm bells ringing in his head. 

There could be a firepox outbreak. The last time Layla hadn’t come into work she’d had firepox - it was more than possible to contract it twice, and Kaz didn’t know of anyone who’d survived long enough after that to get it a third. If Layla had firepox there was a high chance Pietro did as well - and he had Anika and Bieren with them both. Fuck. 

He could do this. He could think his way out of this. It was the one thing he was always only halfway committed to being prepared for; trapped somewhere in between the need to know they had systems in place and the inability to let a single thought pass through his head when it came to plague. He had to think. 

They could close off a floor of the Slat - or even just the back rooms, so no-one would even have to share a staircase with anyone who might be infected - and quarantine people in there. He could get Nina to run through any possible treatments or preventative measures, he could limit staff at the Crow Club, he could open up one of their safehouses as a temporary replacement for home instead of the Slat if he needed to. It would be fine; he could work this out. He would just have to think his way out of it, like he did everything else. 

“Kaz?”

Kaz turned his head sharply back to Inej, his fists tightening, his fingers pressing against each other to find the reassuring feel of leather between his palms. 

“Did you pick up any chatter?”

Inej frowned and he cursed internally as he realised she must have already told him this, but she said nothing except:

“I couldn’t get close; they’re putting barriers up around the house, and the Geldstraat in broad daylight is an easy place to get caught. I’ll go back tonight, see if I can’t find anything out from the staff at any of the other houses,”

Kaz nodded. 

“Good. But steer clear as you can from the Hoede house itself,” there was a pause and Kaz scrambled for a plausible reason that wouldn’t raise her suspicions anymore than he surely already had, “There’ll probably still be stadwatch there,”

A long quiet settled over them, nothing but the hammering rain and the tense stare of Inej’s dark, endless eyes. Usually Kaz wouldn’t have minded, but there was something unnerving about the way that Inej could make you feel her quiet - and about the impatient gaze that he could feel over him even as he turned back to his ledger. He listened to the rain for a moment, felt the scent of it and the damp, fresh earth that had drifted through the open window on a quiet, cool breeze. His door was closed. Maybe if Kaz stood and slammed the window shut Inej would leave. He didn’t. 

“Spit it out, Wraith,”

“Why did you push her like that?” she whispered, “Why would you do that to her?”

Kaz turned the page of his notebook. 

“I’m not here to protect her,” he said, like they were talking about any regular business venture, “I need her to understand what has actually happened to her, because for as long as she doesn’t she’s going to keep defending Kaatje, and she’s going to keep protecting Kaatje from anything we might be able to find out about her. We won’t get anywhere if she won’t talk to us, and in that case,” he looked up with cold eyes, blatantly aware of how cruel his words were about to be and telling himself that he did not care, “she doesn’t have much use to me, so why would I keep her around?”

Inej’s jaw twitched. 

“You shouldn’t have done it,” she said, and then - after a long pause and in a quieter voice: “She did open up a little,”

Kaz resisted the urge to smile. 

“Go on,”

“She talked to us about arriving at the Willow Switch; said she supposed she knew that it was a long time ago really, but she didn’t understand how she hadn’t known any of it for this long. She was never allowed to talk about how long she’d been there and she says she can’t remember seeing that many seasons - but with how much you said about Kaatje keeping her indoors…” Inej trailed away for a moment, then added: “I went to the Willow Switch before I came here,”

Kaz raised an eyebrow, but he kept quiet. 

“It’s not easy to get in; most of the rooms don’t have windows. And…” she swallowed, “A similar set up to the Menagerie, below,”

A basement. Rare for most Kerch buildings, but not particularly unusual for the pleasure houses. 

“Anything worth reporting on?”

“Jeluna isn’t the only one,” Inej said, after a beat, “But she was the first,”

Kaz stood up and began to slowly make his way towards the basin that lay just past the divider that separated his sleeping quarters from his office; the attic space at the Slat was essentially one large room but Kaz didn’t need everyone who came to his office being able to see his bed beyond. 

“She was an experiment,” he said, and from the corner of his eye he saw Inej nod. 

He leant his cane against the wall and stripped his gloves off slowly, flexing his fingers in and out of fists before plunging them into the cold water. In the peripherals of his vision, Inej moved silently to seat herself beneath the open window. Her clothes were still damp from the rain, the loose wet hairs at the front of her face tracing patterns over her skin and the end of her braid, though no longer dripping, curled and was in place by the water. She studied the grey sky, fingertips dancing over the lowest edge of the glass. Kaz had not missed the way she’d hooked a hand beneath her injured leg to pull it up to herself the last time she sat here, something she never used to do before, but she didn’t seem to have done so now. He hoped that meant it was improving, and not that she was lying to him. 

He waited for the easy silence to slip over them as he dried his hands, slipped his gloves back on, collected his cane. The rain had become a light patter now, but the sky was still dark and the threat of thunder did not seem to have dissipated. 

“So,” he said, as he stepped forwards, “What do you think of this situation with the Zemeni trade ambassador?”

When Inej looked up, she might have almost smiled.