#me: drops four (4) stitches

[downtowonderland]

call me moses at the yarn store cause i’m raining down a plague of frogs

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |5|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.1k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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

You leaned back in the steel chair, tapping your fingers on the metal table, as you stared blankly at the giant mirror taking up the wall across from you. You knew it was a two-way mirror and even though you only had the brief interaction with defective Bailey you were sure he was on the other side. Cops like him liked to toss someone in an interrogation room and then leave them for anywhere from ten minutes to over an hour, just to see how they would react. You weren’t being charged with anything, it’s not like they had anything on you, but you stayed seated because you just wanted to get this over with.

You tried not to shift too much, every movement pulled at your stitches. It wasn’t the worst injury you had gotten in your life; you had most definitely experienced a lot worse. The issue was it was in an annoying spot. The bastard had stabbed you right between the ribs, you knew you were lucky, if it had gone any deeper or had been at a different angle it would be a different scenario, you would have still been at the hospital and probably had surgery. None of that stopped the fact that because of where it was any time your ribs moved, therefore anytime you breathed, it pulled at your stitches. Your therapist wouldn’t like it, but you would be more than happy to point out this exact situation is why being used to pain was beneficial.

“Sorry for the wait,” Bailey said, entering the interrogation room with a thick file, stuffed so full, papers were sticking out of the top of it.

You had to give him credit, he even managed to make himself breathless as if he had been running here. The giveaway though was that there wasn’t a drop of sweat on him, meaning he was most likely on the other side of the mirror in the cool air-conditioned room, that was if the interrogation room was anything to go by, they had the AC cranked up.

“No worries,” you said, giving him a small smile.

Bailey gave a little awkward smile as he sat in the steel seat across from you, sitting the file on the table between the two of you. He wasn’t trying to let it show but it was clear he wasn’t thrilled about your nonchalant attitude. If he had made anyone else wait over half an hour just for a questioning, they would have surely thrown a fit, almost everyone at least.

“Shall we get started?” He asked.

“You’re the one with the questions,” you said, giving him a little shrug.

“What were you doing at the gym so late?”

“Working out. It’s a twenty-four gym.”

“Do you always workout so late?”

“Preferably. Less distractions.”

“But you were at the gym the day before,” Bailey flipped a paper up, as if he were referencing his notes. “But much earlier.”

“Sometime workouts require a partner. I go earlier when I meet up with friends.”

“But you usually prefer to work out alone.” It didn’t come off as a question, but you nodded anyway. “And you just happen to cross paths with Samantha Carpenter that night.”

You shrugged. “We overlap a lot; guess we have similar schedules.”

“So, it’s just a coincidence, you being at the gym the same time Sam is attacked by Ghostface?”

“Guess I was in the right place.” You knew you shouldn’t, but you gave him a little smirk. He had nothing on you, you were at the gym, that wasn’t a crime, and you happened to save Sam from a psycho, which was usually a good thing.

Bailey breathed out a little chuckle. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“Believe what you want.”

Bailey quietly chuckled to himself before leaning back in his chair, flipping the file closed. “Fine,” he shrugged. “Let’s say you’re telling the truth.” You had to suppress an eye roll, but you were willing to see where Bailey was going with this. “Tell me what happened.”

You let out a sigh and leaned back in your own chair, shifting when your wound started to ache at the previous angle. “I went to the gym, did my workout, I was finishing up in the showers and as soon as I turned off the water I heard a struggle,” you began to explain calmly. “I walked back into the gym to see some freak in a mask standing over Sam with a knife, I just reacted.”

Bailey let out an amused hum. “Just reacted,” he mumbled more to himself than you. “That reaction,” he said the word like he didn’t believe it. “Involved you holding your own against the attacker, taking their knife from them, getting stabbed, and still managing to continue trying to fight back.”

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “It’s not in me to just sit back and do nothing. I wasn’t about to let Sam get hurt and I wasn’t about to just lay down and die.”

“And all this is with what, no training?” Bailey raised an eyebrow. You couldn’t help the way your lips twitched up ever so slightly, Bailey had absolutely no idea who you were and what you were capable of, it was honestly amusing. “No one is that good just from boxing a few days a week at the gym.”

“They are,” a new voice came. You and Bailey both turned to see a blonde woman had interrupted the interrogation. She held a file of her own as she stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut, then she leaned back against it with her arms crossed. “Though, it’s not from boxing.”

You tilted your head, taking in the new arrival. She wore a leather jacket and jeans; her overall look was much more casual than Bailey with his collared shirt and tie. Even without the look, you were certain this woman wasn’t a detective, but she was definitely someone, the way she carried herself, just waltzing into the interrogation showed what sort of power she had. Bailey didn’t seem to recognize her, which meant she didn’t work at this station, meaning she wasn’t his captain or an immediate superior of his. You were actually willing to bet she wasn’t a cop at all, she held more authority than a cop or a detective, you were going to guess she was federal.

“Who the hell are you?” Bailey asked, shooting forward in his chair.

You glanced back and forth from Bailey to the woman. Bailey was fuming, even more than when he was first talking to you. The woman didn’t even look at him though, her eyes hadn’t left you and there was a slight smirk on her lips. She knew something Bailey didn’t, something about you. You figured you knew what she knew, meaning she was definitely federal.

“Agent Kirby Reed,” the woman now known as Kirby introduced herself. She held your gaze for a minute before finally looking at Bailey. “FBI.” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face, you called it.

Bailey just scoffed at that. “You’re taking over my case?”

“Look, I have information you clearly don’t.” Kirby held out her hands as if to show Bailey she wasn’t a threat. “I’d rather work together than this become a power struggle,” she gestured between herself and Bailey.

Bailey clenched and unclenched his jaw, tapping his fingers on the table as he mulled over Kirby’s offer. Kirby might not have wanted a power struggle, but you were still enjoying the show.

“What do you got?” Bailey finally sighed.

Kirby turned to you with a small smirk. She dropped her file in front of herself down on the table, then leaned forward as she rested both hands on said table. “Y/N here is special forces,” Kirby said.

You couldn’t help but return her smirk, she was already so much more fun than Bailey. “Still active,” Kirby added.

“Who cares!” Bailey rolled his eyes. “If anything, that just makes them more likely to be Ghostface.”

You ignored Bailey, as much as you wanted to shoot him a glare you opted for continuing your staring contest with Kirby. She had the same thought it seemed, because Kirby’s gaze never wavered. “What are you doing in New York?”

“Vacation,” you said simply, even adding a little shrug and smile.

Kirby pushed off the desk and nodded as she crossed her arms again. “Mind if I question them for a bit?” she still didn’t bother looking at Bailey as she asked the question.

Bailey sighed as he stood up and grabbed his file without a word. He didn’t stop and look back at you until his hand was on the door handle. “Goodluck,” he flicked a glance at Kirby. “This one isn’t much of a talker.” Without waiting for a response, he turned the knob and left the room. You were sure he was going to the room right next door so he could watch through the mirror as Kirby questioned you now.

“That’s not a surprise,” Kirby sighed as she moved around the table. She dragged the folder she had brought in, so it was in front of the chair as she pulled out the chair to sit down. “It is how you were trained,” she flicked a glance up at you.

You only smiled at her comment. You weren’t much of a talker, you could talk, it was actually part of your job when on missions but sitting and waiting was also a part of said job. You were trained to remain strong, to not show fear, and to keep your mouth shut when captured though. You knew you weren’t captured; you could walk out the door any time, the mentality of not telling these people anything was still there though.

“You have quite the resume,” Kirby mumbled. She flipped open her file and began flipping through the various pages. You didn’t bother trying to sneak a peek, you knew what was in there, it was your life after all. “I assume,” Kirby gave a little shrug. “It’s a little hard to tell,” she continued to flip through the papers. “There’s a lot of black.”

She turned the file around and held it up for you to see. You chuckled quietly at the file. Kirby clearly did her research, she got various papers and reports on you but every single paper she flipped through was blacked out. There were a few words here and there, usually your name, that weren’t blacked out. Kirby was FBI but even she didn’t have clearance to see your profile or your missions.

Kirby turned the file back around. “How is your address confidential?” Kirby asked more to herself than you, letting the papers flop back down. She glanced up at you and you just shrugged. “Why are you really here?” she asked again.

“I live here.”

“Awfully far from North Carolina.”

“I’m on leave.” You readjusted in your seat again, no matter what position you were in, eventually the stab wound started to hurt. “Decided to spend it at home.”

“You just happened to take your time off when Sam and the others all moved to town?” Kirby leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms as if she were having the most casual conversation in the world.

“Can’t really control when you’re injured,” you snapped.

“How were you injured?”

“Classified.”

“Where were you injured?”

“Classified.”

“On a mission?”

“Classified.”

“What is it you do exactly?” Kirby whispered, leaning forward as if she were asking you to share a secret between just the two of you and not in a room in a police station where everything you said and did was being watched and recorded.

You leaned forward, close enough to Kirby as if you were going to whisper in her ear. “Classified.”

Kirby slumped back in her chair. “You are no fun,” she grumbled.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Kirby seemed to agree with Bailey but neither of them was the first to say such a thing to you. You heard how you were always too serious all the time. It wasn’t true though the only people who seemed to learn just how much fun you could be was your friends who were also in the military.

Kirby tapped her fingers on the table as she stared at you. You just stared back, keeping your hands nicely folded on your lap. “You’re free to go,” Kirby said.

You gave Kirby a tight-lipped smile and got up from your seat, not wasting anymore time as you flung the door open. You bushed past Bailey, barely sparing him a glance as he came out of the room next door. “You’re just letting them go?” you heard him whisper harshly at Kirby.

“There’s nothing to hold them on,” Kirby sighed.

You didn’t bother looking back at them as you made your way through the precinct and to the front lobby. Your movements faltered when you saw Sam and her sister sitting in a couple of chairs in the lobby. Sam looked up and had to do a double take when she seemed to notice you, almost instantly jumping to her feet.

“Are you okay?” she asked, coming to stand in front of you.

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging off the question. “What are you doing here?” you tilted your head. You figured you wouldn’t see Sam again if you were being honest, except maybe at the gym, assuming everyone made it out of this whole psycho killer thing.

Sam opened her mouth to answer you, but it snapped closed when she looked at something past your shoulder. “Kirby?” she asked. You furrowed your brow; you definitely didn’t expect that.

“Sergeant,” Kirby called, making you turn your attention back to her. “Don’t leave town.” You nodded; it wasn’t like you had anywhere else to go anyway.

“Sergeant?” you caught Sam whisper.

“Sam,” Kirby sighed, when she finally got to your side. “It’s good to see you, wish it were under better circumstances.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, pulling Kirby into a hug.

“I’ve been investigating Ghostface killings all over the country, this is the first time one actually seems real.”

“You two know each other?” Detective Bailey asked, coming up behind Kirby.

“We went to high school together,” Sam answered.

“We have a shared history,” Kirby said at the same time.

You tilted your head, there definitely seemed more to it than just going to high school together. Not that you cared, all you wanted to do was go home, which is exactly what you planned on doing.

“Wait,” Sam said, reaching out to grab your arm almost as soon as you moved to brush past her. “Come back to our apartment.” You were taken aback, there wasn’t a lot that could catch you off guard.

“Sam,” her sister whispered harshly, grabbing Sam by the arm and forcing her to turn around. Her sister was short, but it was clear she had a lot of fire in her. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah, are you sure about that?” Kirby questioned. “You know how these things go,” she leaned to whisper in Sam’s ear but spoke loud enough for you to hear.

“Yes,” Sam confirmed. “I’m sorry but you’re involved in this now. It’s safer if we all stick together.”

“I can take care of myself,” you said, moving to turn back around.

“Please,” Sam reached out, gently resting a hand on your arm and stopping you in your tracks once again. “I’d feel better if you were there. You got stabbed for me, I wouldn’t be able to handle it if we left you on your own and Ghostface got you.” You tilted your head as your eyes searched hers. She wasn’t lying to you, but you could tell there was more, there was another reason she wanted you to join them, you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Bailey said, cutting through whatever was going on between you and Sam. “We still can’t rule them out as a suspect.” You flicked a glare at Bailey. “And they’re practically a trained killer.” You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at Bailey for a moment before looking back at Sam.

Your eyes instantly softened when they landed on her. “Okay,” you rasped out. “But I need to stop at my place first.” Sam opened her mouth, most likely argue against that, but you gave her a look, telling her you were going back to your place, or you wouldn’t be joining them at all.

“Fine,” Sam sighed. “But I’m going with you.” You paused as you thought about it for a moment, it had been a long time since you had anyone besides your army buddies over at your place. After a moment of consideration you nodded, it wasn’t like you would be there long anyway. You just had a couple things to grab and take care of, you had a feeling whatever you got dragged into wasn’t going to be wrapped up within a day. “Kirby, can you take Tara back to our apartment?”

“What?” Tara snapped, cutting off whatever Kirby was about to say. “No! I’m going with you. We stick together, remember?”

“Not this time,” Sam shook her head. “I’m not brining you to an unknown location at a strangers house.” You couldn’t help but shrug, it was a good idea, despite inviting you over to their apartment for all they knew you could be involved with the masked psychos.

Tara stared up at her sister, clearly trying to will her to change her mind. It obviously didn’t work, and Tara rolled her eyes as she finally conceded. “I’ll get her home safe,” Kirby said, resting an arm on Sam’s shoulder.

Kirby nodded to the front door and Tara began to follow but not before Sam pulled her in for a tight hug. “Nothing better happen to my sister,” Tara warned as she walked past you. You had stared down plenty of killers, war lords, the worst the world had to offer, but you couldn’t deny Tara’s look was intimidating. You didn’t know what she was capable of, but you didn’t have a doubt in your mind that if anything happened to Sam Tara would have no problem killing someone over it.

“Shall we?” Sam asked once, Tara and Kirby had walked out the front door. You gave a nod and gestured for Sam to lead the way out of the building. You just wanted to go home and rest, now you were in for what surely would be a long weekend.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

[jetii]

Too Sweet

Part One | Part Three | Part Four

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 6,162/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, lots of awkward flirting in this part, smut in part 4

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: Okay, I think I have the rest of this fic pretty much set, except for the final edits to the smut. Part 3 will be up on Wednesday and part 4 next Sunday!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

A week passes, and the wound in his shoulder heals without any complications. There's no need to see you again, and Fox is relieved. The more time that passes, the easier it is to forget about the interaction, and he soon manages to put it out of his mind entirely. He’s far too busy to dwell on things that don’t matter, and he has better things to focus on.

He still thinks about you, though.

It’s hard not to. He passes GMF every day, and sometimes he finds himself staring at the building wondering if you're working. You'd seemed to enjoy your job, and he finds himself hoping that you're doing okay. But then he reminds himself that it's none of his business, and he walks away.

Another week goes by, and the stitches dissolve, leaving nothing but a faint scar. Fox isn't sure how to feel about it. It's not the first scar he's gotten, and he doubts it'll be the last, but for some reason, he can't stop looking at it. It's strange. The wound was minor, and the injury is no longer bothering him, but there's something about the scar that intrigues him.

He doesn't like it.

It's a reminder of his failure, and the fact that he had been injured by a common criminal. It was embarrassing, and the fact that he still remembers your smile only makes it worse. It shouldn't have happened, and he was supposed to be better than that. He was supposed to be the best, and a scratch like this should have never occurred.

He spends his days obsessing over the incident, trying to figure out where he went wrong. There had to be a way to avoid a repeat performance, and he's determined to find it. The new security system has arrived, and he throws himself into his work, spending hours studying the plans and the documentation. He ignores his brothers' concerns and pushes himself harder than ever before, refusing to accept anything less than perfection.

After a week, he's finally satisfied, and he announces the changes to the Senate guards. He receives several confused looks, but no one questions his orders. He's the commander, after all, and if he wants things a certain way, that's the way they're going to be. It doesn't matter what the others think, as long as the job gets done.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" Fox asks, looking up from his datapad to find Thorn standing in the doorway, a scowl on his face.

"Don't give me that."

"What's the problem?"

"The problem is you," Thorn says, pointing at him. "You've turned the Senate building into a fortress."

"So?"

"You've doubled the number of guard patrols," Thorn continues. "We've already had to reroute half the traffic, and people are getting mad. You can't just keep making these changes without talking to us first."

"It's my job," Fox says, his voice cold. "And you're not in charge, I am."

"Don't pull rank on me," Thorn snaps.

"Then don't question my decisions."

Thorn glares at him, his expression hard. He's clearly angry, but Fox doesn't care. He's doing his job, and his brother doesn't have the right to tell him how to do it. He's the one who has to answer for the safety of the Chancellor, and he's not about to let Thorn interfere.

"What's gotten into you?" he asks, his shoulders dropping, and the anger in his voice is tempered by concern. "You're acting weird."

"I'm not," Fox says, frowning.

"You are," Thorn insists. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. "I know we don't see eye-to-eye all the time, but something's up with you."

"There's nothing wrong," Fox says, his tone flat. He looks back down at the datapad, hoping that Thorn will take the hint and leave. There’s already a new message from the Chancellor, and he wants to get started on his report.

"You've been acting weird ever since that incident," Thorn says.

"What incident?" Fox asks, not looking up.

"The knife attack.”

"There were lots of knife attacks," Fox says, his voice flat. "You're going to have to be more specific."

“The one where you got stabbed, di’kut. It was two weeks ago, remember? When we had to go to GMF—“ Thorn stops abruptly, his eyes widening.

"What?" Fox snaps. He doesn't like the look on Thorn's face. It's the same expression he gets when he's solved a case, and it never means anything good. "What is it?"

"I just realized something."

"Realized what?" Fox asks, his patience running thin. He's tired and hungry, and the last thing he wants to deal with is another of Thorn's conspiracy theories.

"Why didn't I think of this sooner?" Thorn says, ignoring him, and he chuckles to himself. He walks over to the window and looks out, his expression thoughtful. "It's so obvious."

"Thorn—"

“This is about the doctor, isn’t it?”

Fox stiffens, and he stares at Thorn, his mouth falling open. He hadn't expected his brother to be so blunt, and the question catches him off guard.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb," Thorn says, giving him a look. "You've been obsessed with that incident ever since it happened, and I know for a fact that you've been avoiding the medical center."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have," Thorn counters. "I've seen you turn around three times when we've walked past it, and you keep finding excuses not to go there."

"I'm not avoiding anything," Fox grumbles. He knows that Thorn isn't going to drop the subject until he answers, and he lets out a sigh, setting down his datapad. "It's not about the doctor. It's about the injury."

"I don't buy it."

"You don't have to."

"Fine," Thorn says, crossing his arms. He looks at Fox for a moment, his gaze scrutinizing, and then lets out a breath. "But for the record, I think you're being an idiot."

"So you've said."

"Yeah, well, maybe you'll listen this time."

"I doubt it," Fox mutters, and he picks up the datapad again. The screen is blank, and he taps at the controls, trying to remember where he'd left off.

"Why are you so set on torturing yourself?" Thorn asks. His voice is quiet, and the question takes Fox by surprise. He looks up at his brother, frowning, and he sees that Thorn is watching him with a worried expression. "You can't keep going like this, Fox."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Thorn says. He walks over to the desk and sits down in the chair across from Fox, his elbows resting on the surface. "You're working yourself to death, and it's not going to make a difference."

"It will," Fox insists. "If we can—"

"It won't," Thorn interrupts. "I know you're worried about the Chancellor, but he's not going to disappear overnight. He's not in any more danger now than he was a week ago."

"We can't afford to let our guard down," Fox says, his voice strained. "You know that."

"I do." Thorn nods. "But you can't keep going like this. At least take a break. Go to a bar. Relax."

"There's too much work to do."

"I'll cover for you."

Fox sighs and looks down at the datapad again, the words blurring together. He can't focus, and the report isn't going to get done anytime soon. Thorn is right, as much as he hates to admit it. He's been working too hard, and it's starting to take a toll. But the thought of stopping makes his chest tighten, and he feels a surge of anxiety. If he stops, what's going to happen? What if something goes wrong, and he's not there to stop it? What if—

"Fox."

"Yeah," he says, letting out a shaky breath.

"Just take the rest of the night off." Thorn leans forward and gently pries the datapad from Fox's fingers. "You need to rest."

"Fine," Fox says, and he feels his shoulders slump.

"Good."

"But not a word of this to the others," he warns.

"I won't." Thorn smirks and stands up, walking over to the door. "Just promise me you'll try and have a little fun, okay? No matter how boring you think it is."

"Yeah, yeah."

Thorn leaves, and Fox lets out a sigh, sinking into his chair. He rests his head in his hands, rubbing his temples, and closes his eyes. The darkness is soothing, and he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his nerves.

He's been feeling off for a while now, and the conversation with Thorn had only made things worse. The stress is starting to get to him, and he knows that he needs a break. But the thought of stepping away from the office, even for a moment, fills him with a sense of dread. He's afraid that something will happen, and he'll be too far away to stop it. But deep down, he knows that Thorn is right. He can't keep going like this. Something's got to give.

Fox’s stomach growls, painfully reminding him that he hasn't eaten all day. The sound snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, blinking. He's been sitting here for hours, and the sun has gone down. It's late, and his body is screaming for food and sleep.

He stands up and stretches, his back popping, and heads for the door. The mess hall at the barracks has long since closed, and his stomach grumbles again, louder this time. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, wondering if there's a ration bar left in his locker. Probably not. Maybe if he takes a walk, he can find something. There's bound to be a 24-hour café open somewhere, and if he’s lucky, they'll have something edible. He hasn't eaten actual food in weeks, and the thought of having something hot and fresh is almost too tempting to resist.

He steps out of his office and makes his way down the corridor, passing the rows of empty desks and abandoned terminals. Thorn’s office light is still on, and when Fox passes by, his brother gives him a thumbs up and a smile. Fox rolls his eyes, and he keeps walking, his feet carrying him down the stairs and towards the exit.

The night air is cool and refreshing, and he takes a deep breath, letting the chill seep into his bones. The streetlights are on, and the traffic has thinned, but the city is still bustling with activity. People are milling about, and he can see a few clusters of troopers on patrol. It's a familiar sight, and it brings him some comfort. At least here, he knows what to expect.

He walks for a few blocks, keeping his head down and his eyes forward. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, and the last thing he needs is another confrontation with a citizen. He's tired, and the thought of having to explain himself is enough to make him cringe. It's better to just avoid it altogether.

Fox rounds a corner and pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd. There's a small diner tucked away between two buildings, and the smell of spices wafts out from the doorway. His stomach growls again, and he walks towards the entrance, pushing the doors open.

The diner is small and cozy, and there's only a handful of people inside. They're scattered throughout the room, and most are seated at the counter, chatting with the droid serving them. Fox takes a seat near the door, as far away from the other customers as possible, and pulls off his helmet. His hair is sticking up, and he quickly runs his fingers through it, trying to smooth it down. He's not sure why, but he suddenly feels self-conscious, and the feeling unsettles him. He's usually more composed, but today has been rough, and he doesn't want anyone to see him like this.

He orders a cup of caf, and as soon as it’s placed in front of him, he downs it in a single gulp. It's strong and bitter, and the warmth spreads through his chest, calming him. The exhaustion is still there, but at least the headache was starting to fade. He orders a second cup, and he sips it slowly, letting the steam warm his face as he turns his attention to the menu. 

Most of the dishes listed are foreign to him, and he’s so absorbed in trying to decipher the strange names that he doesn't notice someone settling one stool over from him. The smell of lavender is subtle, but unmistakable, and a flash of white has him turning his head before he can stop himself.

It’s you.

Fox nearly inhales his caf, and you look up from your datapad, startled.

"Commander?" You blink a few times, seemingly as surprised to see him as he was to see you. The surprise on your face quickly morphs into concern, and you frown. "Is everything alright?”

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Fox says, taking another sip of caf to cover up his embarrassment.

"Are you sure? You look a bit...frazzled," you say, eyeing his hair.

He winces, and his free hand shoots up to smooth down his unruly curls again. Your gaze follows his movements, and then you smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut.

"Just a long day," Fox mutters, glancing away. He stares down at his cup, tracing the rim with a gloved finger, and tries not to think about the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t believe that of all the places in the city, you’re here, and the realization that you'd seen him make a fool of himself again has him wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

"I understand that," you say. Your smile fades, and you let out a sigh, tapping the datapad. "Unfortunately."

He glances over, curious, and sees that the screen is filled with rows of data. There are charts and graphs, and what appears to be an inventory list. It doesn't look like anything fun, and the thought that you might have a stressful job, too, intrigues him.

“What brings you out this late?” he asks.

You look at him, your eyebrows raised. For a moment, he worries that he's overstepped, but then you smile, and his worry melts away.

"Same as you, I suppose," you say, and he can hear the exhaustion in your voice. You sigh and set down your datapad. “My shift doesn’t end until 0400, but I needed a break from the medical wing. Sometimes, the smell of bacta gets to me."

Against his will, a laugh bubbles up from his chest. It’s short and rough, like gravel under his boots, but he can’t help it. He tries to cover it up by taking another sip of his caf, but you don't seem offended, and when he looks at you again, you're smiling.

"I hear that," Fox says, his lips twitching. "Something about it just..." He shudders, the thought of the thick, gel-like substance making him gag.

"Exactly," you say, nodding. "It's like melting plastic."

"Or glue," Fox says. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing, and he shakes his head. "Actually, maybe it is glue."

You laugh, and the sound is so bright and clear that it startles him. He didn’t think he was capable of making anyone laugh, and the fact that he had made you do so twice is baffling.

"Oh, stars, don't remind me.” Your nose scrunches up, and you let out a soft groan. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to peel my scrubs off and throw them away after a long day."

"I can only imagine," Fox muses, trying to picture you without the scrubs. His mind goes to a place h didn’t expect, and his cheeks heat up. He looks away, suddenly fascinated by the pattern on the countertop.

"I suppose it’s not so bad," you continue, oblivious to his distress. You tap your fingers on the counter, and then turn towards him. "You know, I heard a rumor that you were afraid of medics."

"I am not," Fox scoffs, frowning. He looks at you, and your expression is serious, but there's a twinkle in your eyes that tells him you're not entirely sincere. "I just have a healthy respect for those who can take me apart and put me back together again.”

"A healthy respect," you echo, grinning.

"Yes."

"Is that why you ran out of GMF like you were being chased by a Nexu the other day?" you ask, and there's a teasing note in your voice that makes his stomach flip.

"No," he mutters, looking away. 

He can feel his face burning, and his embarrassment is only making it worse. You'd noticed. Of course you had. And the fact that you'd actually thought about it, that you'd cared enough to bring it up, is both flattering and mortifying. He'd been hoping that you would just forget the entire incident, but apparently, you were more perceptive than he'd realized.

"Right," you chuckle. "Well, you're braver than most, I'll give you that. Most troopers don't set foot in the med center unless they're dragged there by their brothers."

He can't help but chuckle a little at that. If only you knew how close to the truth you were.

"So, if you're not afraid, do you mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing toward the empty seat between you. “I promise not to dissect you, Commander."

Fox hesitates, his stomach clenching. You're asking to sit next to him. Why? It doesn't make any sense, and he's not sure what to say. It's a simple question, but it feels like there's a hidden meaning behind it, and he can't figure out what it is. But, the hopeful look on your face and the inexplicable need to please you is making it hard for him to say no.

You must mistake his silence for refusal, because your smile fades, and you pull back a little.

"It's okay if you don't want to," you say, and your tone is apologetic. "I just figured, since we're both here..."

"No, no, I'd like that," Fox says quickly, scooping up his helmet and setting it on the counter beside him. He gives you a small smile, and you beam back at him.

"Great!"

You stand and move to the seat between you, and Fox finds himself leaning back a little, not wanting to be too close. But when you settle into the stool, the scent of lavender is stronger, and he relaxes, allowing himself to enjoy it.

"I thought maybe I was bothering you," you admit.

"You’re not," Fox says, and he means it. Your presence is actually calming, and he feels the tension in his shoulders ease a little. He takes a deep breath, savoring the smell, and then realizes what he's doing and quickly stops. He picks up the menu and studies it intently, trying to distract himself.

You don't say anything, and he can feel you watching him. It's unnerving, but the feeling isn't entirely unpleasant, and he allows himself a few more seconds before he looks up at you again. When he does, you quickly turn away, a light flush dusting your cheeks. It's oddly endearing, and Fox has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

The waitress droid returns and pours you a cup of caf before refilling his. You thank her as she leaves, and you pick up the cup, taking a sip. You let out a sigh, and your eyes close, a satisfied smile forming on your lips.

"This is perfect," you murmur, taking another sip. "I needed this."

"It's a necessity in my line of work," he says, his tone dry. "I'd be dead without it."

"You're telling me," you say, smiling at him, and you rest your chin on your hand. "I had to get three cups before my shift started just to feel human again."

"Three?"

"Don't judge," you say, laughing. "It's been a rough week."

"I wasn't judging," Fox smirks. "Those are rookie numbers, doctor."

“Rookie, huh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And how many cups would you say a seasoned pro could drink, Commander?"

"At least four." His smirk widens, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. But your smile never falters, and Fox feels a little surge of pride. 

The way you seem so relaxed around him is surprising. Most civilians are put off by his presence, his harsh demeanor and stoicism, the fact that you aren't afraid of him makes him happy, and the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, filling him with a strange sort of euphoria.

"Well, I think we've established who's the true caffeine addict here," you tease. “You better eat something, or your heart is going to explode."

“Is that your official medical opinion, doctor?" he asks, his tone dry.

"It is," you say, giving him a pointed look.

He can't help but chuckle at your seriousness, and the way your brow furrows as you pretend to scold him. It's cute, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he should. 

He shouldn't be so comfortable around you, and yet he can't seem to stop himself. Something about you just draws him in, and the longer he spends in your company, the less he wants to leave.

"Then, I guess I'd better order something," Fox says, smiling.

“You better," you say, and the sternness in your voice is ruined by the way your eyes sparkle.

The two of you lapse into silence, and Fox takes the opportunity to study you. Your eyes are fixed on the menu, and you’re chewing on your bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Your hair falls around your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand behind your ear. You're beautiful, and the thought comes unbidden, but Fox doesn't try to fight it. It's true. You are beautiful. And you're talking to him, of all people, even after how he treated you.

It's surreal, and the fact that you seem so content, so happy, to be in his company is baffling. He can’t stop the questions from swirling through his mind. Why would someone like you want to spend time with him? What could you possibly get out of it? Surely, there had to be some sort of ulterior motive, some scheme or plan. Maybe you were spying for the Separatists, or working with the Black Sun, or—

"Have you eaten here before?" you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

"No, I haven't," Fox admits. "I don't really eat out much."

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” you say, and you grin at him. The gesture is so sincere, so full of warmth and joy, that his heart skips a beat. "They have the best seallia sandwich here. I've been coming here since I started working at the GMF."

"I'll have to try it, then," Fox says, returning your smile.

The droid returns, and the two of you place your orders. When she leaves, the silence settles over the table again, and Fox fidgets, not sure what to do. He’s not normally one for small talk, or any talk, really, but something about your presence makes him want to reach out, and the fact that he doesn't know what to say is frustrating.

He glances over, and the look on your face is thoughtful, almost sad. You're staring at the counter, your chin resting in the palm of your hand, and the corners of your mouth are turned down. 

You look exhausted, and the sudden realization that you're probably as tired as he is hits him like a bolt of lightning. He has no idea how much longer your shift lasts, or how long it's been since you've gotten a decent night's sleep, and the thought of you suffering fills him with a strange sort of guilt.

"Long day?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yeah," you sigh. "I've been trying to get this grant application finished, but it's not going very well."

"Why not?"

"Well, the money is for a new surgical wing," you say, and you shrug. "But the bureaucrats at the hospital board don't seem to think it's worth the effort."

"What's wrong with the old wing?" Fox asks, frowning. He's familiar with the building, and the idea that it might not be up to par is unsettling. If it's not safe, then the lives of his men could be at risk. "Is it not up to code?"

“No, no, nothing like that," you assure him, and he lets out a relieved breath. "It's just...not very modern."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the equipment is outdated, and the space is cramped," you explain. “With the amount of refugees flooding the planet, we're already at capacity. It's only a matter of time before we hit a breaking point, and if we're not prepared..." You trail off, a frown on your face, and you shake your head. "I don't even want to think about it."

"I see," Fox says, and his stomach twists into knots. He's seen the crowds of refugees, the lines of injured people waiting outside the medical centers, and the thought of what would happen if things got any worse is terrifying. There’d already been one riot, and the city was becoming increasingly unstable. It was only a matter of time before something snapped.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be complaining," you say, giving him a small smile. "I know you've got a lot on your plate."

"It's alright," Fox says, his voice soft. The guilt he feels whenever someone mentions the state of the planet is starting to build, and he has to resist the urge to apologize. He knows it’s not his responsibility alone, and yet, the burden is his to carry.

"Thanks," you murmur, and the gratitude in your voice is startling. You offer him a warm smile, and the knot in his stomach loosens, and the guilt recedes. "I'm sorry, I don't usually get to talk about this stuff."

"Why not?"

"My co-workers aren't really interested in listening to me complain about the state of the medical system. They think I’m being paranoid." You sigh and run a hand through your hair. "And they're probably right. We're doing everything we can, and there's only so much we can do with what we have."

"No, I understand," Fox says. His own brothers aren't much better, and he can't count the number of times he's had to deal with their complaints and gripes. The fact that they can't see the bigger picture, the danger lurking just beneath the surface, frustrates him. "Trust me."

"It's nice to hear someone else agree," you say, and there's a wistful note in your voice that makes his heart ache. You sound lonely, and the urge to reach out, to comfort you, is nearly overwhelming. But before he can do anything, the droid returns with your food, and you sit up, smiling. "Thank you."

The food is placed in front of them, and Fox stares at his plate, a little taken aback. The sandwich is massive, and it smells amazing. His stomach growls, and he takes a large bite, closing his eyes as the flavors explode in his mouth.

"Good, right?" you ask, grinning.

"Yes," he says, and he lets out a sigh. The sandwich is the most delicious thing he's ever eaten, and he quickly devours it, savoring every bite. You seem amused, and you watch him with a faint smile on your lips, eating your own food much slower.

The silence between the two of you is comfortable, and Fox is surprised by how easy it is to just sit and enjoy the moment. Every once in a while, you look over at him, and the way your gaze lingers sends shivers down his spine. He can't help but stare back, and the two of you exchange small smiles before returning to your meals.

It's silly, and a little childish, but the warmth in his chest grows with every glance, and soon, he's actively trying not to grin like an idiot.

"So," you say, wiping your mouth. "How's the arm feeling?"

"It's fine." He glances down at his pauldron, and then back at you. "You did a good job."

"That's what I'm here for," you say, laughing.

"I'm sorry I didn't stick around," Fox says, wincing internally at the memory. "Things were pretty hectic that day."

"Don't worry about it," you say, waving him off. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Fox looks at you, his eyebrows raised. You're staring at him, and your expression is genuine. There's no anger or resentment in your eyes, only concern, and his throat tightens. No one's ever looked at him like that before, and the thought that you care so much about his wellbeing is shocking.

"I appreciate it," Fox says, his voice low. He pauses for a moment, and then adds, "And thank you, again, for not dissecting me."

The words sound ridiculous, even to his ears, but the joke seems to work. You snort, and the sound is so unexpected that he has to bite back a laugh.

"Well, I did promise," you tease, grinning.

"That you did."

The two of you fall silent again, and this time, it's more noticeable. The noise of the diner fades, and the sounds of traffic from outside are replaced by the pounding of his heart in his ears. The warmth in his chest is still there, and he tries to ignore it, focusing on his meal instead.

He's almost finished when a thought occurs to him, and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

"I could help you.”

You look up at him, confusion written on your face.

"With the grant," Fox continues, his voice growing strained. He hadn't meant to offer his assistance, but now that he's started, he can't seem to stop. The ideas are pouring out of him, and the need to please you is making his skin prickle. "I know some people, I could put in a word for you."

"Commander—"

"Fox."

"Sorry, Fox." You let out a nervous laugh and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "That's very kind of you, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking," Fox points out.

"True, but..." You trail off, and a crease forms between your brows. He can tell that you're hesitant, and he wonders if perhaps he'd crossed a line.

"Forget it," he mutters. "I shouldn't have—"

"No, no, it's not that," you interrupt, shaking your head. "I just don't want to take advantage of you. You have a lot on your plate, and I don't want to add to your workload."

"It's not a problem," he assures you. "My duty is to the people of Coruscant, and if there's something I can do to help, I should do it. It's my responsibility."

"You're not responsible for the whole city, Fox," you say softly. Your brows knit together, and you look so sincere, so earnest, that he can't stop the wave of affection that crashes over him. "You can't fix everything."

"I can try," he shrugs. "And I think the Chancellor would agree with me. It's a good cause, and it could benefit a lot of people."

"The Chancellor?" you ask, blinking. "You'd talk to the Chancellor?"

Fox tries not to scoff. Of course, he'd talk to the Chancellor. He talked to him every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes, it seemed like the only thing he ever did was talk to him.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear about the medical center's needs," Fox says, his voice flat.

"That's..." You pause, and the look of surprise on your face melts into something else, something softer, and his chest tightens. "You're sweet."

"I'm not," he mutters, his face heating up. Sweet? What did that mean?

"Yes, you are." You laugh and lean forward, a playful smirk on your face. "And if you insist, I'll take you up on your offer."

"Okay," he says, nodding. He picks up his cup and takes a sip of his caf, hoping that it will hide his blush.

"I'll send you my contact info," you say, smiling at him. "And maybe we can get dinner sometime. To discuss the proposal, of course."

"Of course."

"You pick the place," you add, your eyes sparkling. "And this time, don't run off."

"I promise," he says, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.

The two of you exchange frequencies, and the conversation quickly turns to lighter topics. The stress of the day, the exhaustion, and the anxiety seems to fade away, and Fox finds himself relaxing. He's actually enjoying himself, and the knowledge that it's because of you is both comforting and frightening.

It's late by the time you finish eating, and the streets have emptied. You pay for your meal, despite his protests, and the two of you step out into the cool night air. The moon is high in the sky, and the traffic has quieted, but the city is far from silent.

"I guess I should be going," you say, letting out a sigh. "I need to get back."

"Right," Fox says.

The two of you stand in front of the entrance, and Fox fidgets, his hands gripping the edges of his helmet. He's not sure what to do, and he's surprised by the sudden reluctance he feels. The thought of saying goodbye, of walking away, and not seeing you again for who knows how long, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Let me escort you," he blurts out.

"I...what?"

"It's not safe for you to walk alone this late," Fox explains. He gestures towards the street, and the faint shadows between the street lamps. “The city is dangerous at night."

"Fox," you say, a slight smile tugging at your lips. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I know," he says, his voice soft. “But it would make me feel better."

"If you insist," you chuckle.

"I do."

"Well, how can I refuse, when you ask so nicely," you tease, and he gives you a small smile.

The two of you walk side by side, and Fox's eyes are drawn to you. The streetlights catch in your hair, and the faint glow highlights your face, casting shadows on your features. You look radiant, and the urge to reach out and touch you, to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheek, is nearly overpowering.

But he doesn't. Instead, he tucks his hands behind his back and follows along, trying to memorize every detail.

The GMF isn't far. Soon, the two of you are standing outside the entrance, and he's almost disappointed. The walk had gone by too fast, and the thought of going back to the barracks alone, back to his empty room and his empty life, makes his chest ache.

"Well," you say, and he's startled to find that the two of you have stopped. "I guess this is where we part ways."

"Looks like it."

You turn towards him, and his breath catches in his throat.

"I had fun tonight," you say, smiling up at him.

"So did I," Fox admits. He hesitates, and then adds, "I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. It's not often that civilians are so...welcoming."

"Well, it's a shame," you murmur. You step closer, and the smell of lavender surrounds him. His heartbeat picks up, and he's suddenly acutely aware of how close you are. "They're missing out."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he says, his tone dry.

"I would," you say firmly. You reach out and touch his arm, your hand warm even through his armor, and the contact sends a shock through his system. "Thank you, Fox."

He swallows thickly and nods. "Anytime."

"I'll comm you about the grant," you promise, and you squeeze his arm. "Have a good night, Commander."

"You, too," he manages, and then you turn, and disappear through the doors.

He stands there for a moment, watching the door, and a strange sense of longing fills him. It's not the first time he's felt lonely, and the feeling is familiar, but there's something else, something new, that accompanies it. He can't quite name it, but the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.

Maybe Thorn was right. Maybe he'd just needed to take a break. But the way you'd made him feel, the warmth and joy, was something that had never happened before, and it's a feeling that he can't let go.

Maybe things are starting to change.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

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@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently

[kinardsevan]

I wanna see both 4 and 6 but my first choice is 4

Tommy is pissed. He and Evan had plans to spend a week off in Florida, hitting up all the parks at Disney World. The tickets have been bought, the bags are packed, and they’re supposed to be leaving in twenty-four hours. 

Which is why he can’t understand why Eddie called him from the ER. 

Last he’d heard from his boyfriend and their mutual best friend, they’d been planning to take a bike ride through the park. Evan just got a new mountain bike that he’s been using pretty regularly on his days off. Tommy has joined him on several of the rides,  but he’d been finishing up a 12 that he’d picked up off of one of his coworkers to help add to their vacation fund. 

When he walks into the trauma bay, Evan is on the gurney and Eddie seated in the chair beside him, arms crossed. 

“What in the fuck happened,” he asks, taking in Evan’s obvious injuries. He’s managed to scrape up half his face, there’s a nasty cut on his knee that probably needs stitches, and Evan is holding his left arm pretty tightly to his body in a way that has Tommy thinking it’s probably pretty injured. Eddie isn’t unscathed either; he has scrape on both calves and forearms, but he’s far less beat up than Evan is. 

“We were just fucking around and finding out,” Evan replies, keeping his gaze low. “And we ended up finding out a little too hard.” 

Eddie snorts. 

“Evan.” 

“He went over this thing that looked like a half-pipe,” Eddie states. 

“Edmundo!” Evan whines. Tommy glares at him. 

“Which one of you is in the hospital bed right now, Evan,” he chides. The blonde flinches at the statement. 

“Anyway,” Eddie continues. “Turns out it was a wall, not a halfpipe.” 

Tommy’s gaze zeroes in entirely on Evan than. 

“What in the actual fuck?” He asks. He’s laughing, and he’s not even sure why, because he’s definitely not amused. “Baby,” he comments incredulously. 

Evan presses his lips together in a thin line, eyes darting back and forth away from both Eddie and Tommy’s gaze. 

“Oops?” he finally comments after a silence that’s drug on far too long. 

Tommy just shakes his head, and he laughs again, mostly because he both can’t and can believe this is the life he signed up for when he and Evan started dating exclusively eight months ago. 

“You’re an absolute shit head,” he tells him, crossing the room and perching on the bed, resting a hand on Evan’s thigh, away from the blood. “And you’re lucky I love you.” 

Evan blushes then, looks up at him, a small smile on his face. “Still?” 

Tommy tilts his head at him. “Yes, still.” 

Eddie gags obnoxiously then, pushing himself up from his chair. 

“I’m gonna go find the vending machines,” he states. “Let me know when we’re leaving.” 

He walks out of the room, leaving Evan and Tommy alone. Tommy shifts into the empty chair, leans his head against his hand with his elbow on the arm of the chair. 

“So what’s the worst of it,” he asks. Evan gets that inconspicuous look on his face again, looks away. He scrunches his face, like he’s trying to make less of the moment. 

“Just a small, minor…dislocation.” 

Tommy groans then, dropping his head back on the chair. After a beat, he lifts it back up, looking over at his boyfriend. 

“Still going to Disney World tomorrow?” He asks. 

Evan grins. “Oh fuck yes. Try and stop me.” 

[be-missed]

Not Strong Enough (Chap 5)

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.

Warning: curse words.

A/N: 5th chapter, thank you for waiting. I'll be using a different POV her, please tell me if this is better or no. Also, I think if I start using this POV, y'all need to be guessing what's inside of Jenna's (in the story) mind.

Masterlist

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 6

______________________________________________________________

Chap 5

"Hey, thanks for today, I really enjoyed the concert. See you around!"

You kept on reading the last text message that Jenna sent you after the concert. In the past few days, you are trying to keep your distance from the girl that you have been liking for some quite time now. After the concert, listening to the songs, it feels like you are having a revelation; you can't and you won't be the love of her life you thought.

So what you did was to be more productive than you are to stop yourself from thinking of the other girl and checking your phone. In the hospital when Jenna visits, you try to lessen your interaction and dismisses her telling that you are busy and needed in the surgery room. But one time, Jenna caught you seating in the chairs and watching a video on your phone. You didn't know that she'll go visit and unfortunately she asked around and asked what time is your break.

You were watching Melissa Barrera's 'Get To Bed With Me' YouTube video for Harper's Bazaar. "So, you are on a break, right?" You heard from your side and that got you surprised, it is Jenna's voice and you answered "Hey, I didn't know you were coming." and she chuckles and said "I came to surprise you, you were always on the go when I visit" she said and sat beside you.

You look at her whole figure intently, nothing has change, still the same chipped nail polish from the concert, same chuck taylors that she loves to wear, her headphone hanging around her neck, that necklace she wears sometimes when she is in the mood and a few rings.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry... there's a lot that's been going around here" you said with a sad smile and Jenna answered "No worries, I'm just glad I get to talk to you." and smiled at you.

Why does she need to smile like you are the softest thing that she have ever seen. "So, I just noticed, I mean I don't want to assume, because like, you know, it's not good, but I would like t you know, ask maybe, or like no, I've been meaning to tell you-" Jenna started to rumble but you held her hand and squeezed it and said "Hey you're rambling, it's ok breathe."

"Okay, I noticed that you are kinda ignoring me. You haven't replied to my message last last week, you have been ignoring me when I go here, I mean yes, we talk in facetime but you end it so quickly. I just... I miss you." Those words came out of Jenna's mouth.

She misses you. SHE MISSES YOU.

"Oh..." You started "I'm sorry if you feel like that, but I have been really really busy." You ended. But you feel like Jenna knows that you are lying to her.

"Sure, I mean, I'm sorry to bother you." Jenna said and went up to stand but you stopped her "Hey, please don't think that you're bothering me, that can never happen" and you smiled at her.

"Okay..." Jenna said and accepted your answer "So, do you have any plans for Halloween?" she asked and you answered "Yes, actually My friends and I are having a Halloween Party, just the four of us since we can't handle big events" and ended with a laugh.

"That sounds really nice, what are you dressing up?" Jenna asked you with such curiosity and you answered "Well, I'll be dressing up as Mavis from Hotel Transylvania."

Jenna took a mental note on that. The both of you heard a blaring sound and a voice said "Code Blue" and that alerted you.

"Hey, I'll be calling you, I am needed, duty calls." You said and kissed Jenna's cheeks and hugs her and you bolted out.

---

"Y/N please stop walking around, please" Ava stated while you pace around the break room with you friends watching you like you were in a loop. Beatrice enters the room, kissed her wife and looked at you weirdly.

"What is happening here?" Bea asked and her wife answered, "Well your friend here kissed her little princess, IN THE CHEEK." Ava exaggerated the last words that made Bea chuckle and said "Wow, a kiss on the cheek made you like that, how about when you get to kiss her." and the wives made fun of you that made you stop from pacing.

"GUYS! This isn't even funny!" You said that made the both of them laugh even more, "Chill down Y/N, girl friends kiss each other in the cheek." Beatrice emphasize the space between girl and friends "And please calm your thoughts down, try to stay in the present and no overthink yeah." Beatrice added.

"Okay, sure sure, I will try" you sat beside them and drink your water.

"So are you ready for our Halloween Party?" Ava asked and you just nodded "Okay, I can't wait to see you in your costume."

---

"TRICK OR TREAT" Those are the three words that the four of them hearing while they are having a dinner and playing monopoly.

"Damn, it's so late and there are kids outside." Ava stated as you went up and opened the door to give them candies and give them compliments for the effort that they did for their costume.

As you take your seat again "You can't blame them. I'd be walking the whole neighborhood just to get lots of candies" and rolled the dice, you moved your character that landed on boardwalk. You hollered and celebrated as you got the most expensive property in the game.

"That's not fair Y/N, you need to leave some property for us." Camila exclaimed while pouting like a little kid, "Oh stop it, you almost owned all of the land on the other side."

Beatrice gave you a house and the card for the boardwalk. Another knock on the door and a "Trick or Treat" can be heard, with a happy feeling, knowing that you'll be crashing Ava and Camila in the game, you happily get the bucket of candy and opened the door, and it stunned you.

Jenna was the one that is in front of the door, with her little cousins.

As you scanned her face, you could also see a surprised look, she probably doesn't assume that you will be the one opening the door and will be giving them the treats.

"Hey..." you said with the brightest smile, feeling like a fucking winner even if the game hasn't ended, but looking at Jenna with her orange long sleeve under a yellow jersey T-shirt, cargo shirt, and on her adidas rubber shoes. You intake in everything that is on her and she replied back with a smirk on her face "Hey back to you beautiful."

"Can I get my candies now?" You hear a littlw voice and you looked down and answered "Sure sweetie, here get anything you want" and almost gave all of the candies to Jenna's cousin.

"Whoa there, that's a lot for you miss." Jenna exclaimed seeing that you almost empty the candy bucket that you have.

"Didn't know you live around our block?" Jenna said and you answered "Oh no, this is not mine, this is actually where Ava and Beatrice lives" and scratched your head, "You wanna join our party?" you asked Jenna and she answered "Oh I would like to, but as you can see I'm tasked to bring the kids to trick or treat"

That made you sad because you won't be hanging with Jenna.

"But... I can come after we round the whole block if that's alright?" She asked and that made you smile and you answered "Sure, that's great" and you watched them walking away. The both of you shared a small wave.

As you went back to the table, you said to the group " I hope it's okay that I invited someone later?" and that made them look at you "It's just Jenna, so I hope you don't mind?"

"Wow, so now you got the guts to invite her huh? But yeah, it's okay for me, how about you my love?" Bea said and Ava nodded because her mouth is currently full with m&m.

"It's about damn time I get to meet her. I'll show her how I fucking nailed Wednesday's dance" Camila exclaimed and both you and Beatrice said "Please no."

---

An hour passed and the four of you are just watching a horror film when the doorbell rang. When you opened the door, you saw Jenna standing with a wine on her hand.

"Hey you didn't need to bring something" you said and Jenna answered "I think it's good to impress your friends" and the both of you entered the living room that made the other three stare at you.

Beatrice paused the movie and Camila said "Wow, you got your whole costume planned huh?" and that made you look at her questionly.

You then scanned Jenna's costume, orange long sleeves under a yellow jersey T-Shirt, a cargo short, and a rubber shoes. That's where it clicked, SHE WAS DRESS AS JOHNNY, Mavis' husband.

"Surprise" Jenna said in a little voice and looked at you worriedly.

You bit your lips and said "Well good to see you husband." You kissed her cheeks again and pull her to the sofa to the spot where you were seated earlier and the movie continued.

"I hope it's okay" Jenna whispered and that made you look at her, you were so close to her face, the lights of the TV illuminated her face, and that just took your breath away.

"What do you mean?" You asked, a bit of perplexed on what she's asking. "I dressed up as Johnny" she said.

You thought, why would she feel sorry for dressing up as your husband, as Mavis' husband? Because what she just did for her costume, being in a couple costume with you, sent you heart beating impossibly fast that you fear it will just stop and Jenna will be seeing you body lying on the floor while your three friends are trying to perform a cpr on you.

"No worries, I kinda like how you played it off, it looks good on you." You said and if the lights were on, you will notice how the blush on Jenna's face creeps in. "You are beautiful as well Y/N" Jenna said.

"Can we please now watch" Camila said to the both of you because she is just literally seating close to the both of you, which made the both of you said your apologise quietly and sat comfortably beside each other.

The night went on, and the five of you finished two movies. Beatrice and Ava are now cleaning the living room while you clean the dining room which leaves Camila and Jenna in the living room.

Camila broke the silence and said "I really liked you on Wednesday." and that made Jenna smile and said a thank you, Camila then continued "You know, if I may, I can show you how I perfected the dance you did in the ball" Camila stands up in the middle of the living room and within a second you tackled Camila into the floor, not wanting to make Jenna feel uncomfortable since you have watched a lot of her interviews about the Wednesday dance and also you are concerned about your friend who can't really dance to save her life.

"WHAT THE FUCK Y/N" Camila exclaimed and pushed you off of her "I'm sorry, I just missed you" you answered while you are still lying on the floor.

Jenna went to you and helped you up "Are you okay?" she asked and you just nodded.

"That was not fair Y/N, I was about to show Jenna my dancing skills" Camila said with a pout on her lips, and that just made you giggle.

Jenna buts in and said "Maybe you can show me next time when we meet each other again."

But that just made your head shakes for a no, earning a few "no" that can be heard from Bea and Ava.

Finishing up and gathering your things, you said your goodbye to Ava, Bea, and Camila. Jenna by your side walking towards the street.

"Thanks for inviting me tonight" Jenna said kicking stones that got in her way.

You looked at her like a little kid, thinking it was fun to see her like this, enjoying herself and being young & free. "No problem, I love having you around and the girls have been wanting to meet you since they only got to greet you in the hospital" you said.

"Really? I'm glad to hear that. I also enjoyed spending time with them" She said.

Walking a few more streets and you were nearing Jenna's house. No small talks were made, only the noise of the neighborhood can be heard and your small hums.

Jenna the breaks the silence "I just noticed that you always invite me to do something while I just go and say yes."

"Well, I like hanging out with you" you answered, because it is true. You know for yourself that even if you don't have any feelings for Jenna, you would enjoy her company.

"How about if you come to our Family dinner next time, sounds good?" Jenna suggested and it surprised you. How come you got invited to a Family Dinner and that made you super shy because you will gonna be surrounded with Jenna's family and you were scared that they will not like you. But then you reminded yourself to calm down and live on the now.

"Uhmm sure, if that's okay with your family, I don't want to intrude" you answered and Jenna smiled and said "Oh trust me they would love you there, my mom was also planning in inviting you, she said you are like a daughter to her"

Wow, Natalie has plans on inviting you, that was the first time you heard that. You know that you and Natalie have this bond and you feel so treasured and loved, thinking that Natalie thought of you more like her daughter.

Stepping in front of the Ortega's front door, you and Jenna faced each other earning a sweet smile on both of your faces.

"Thank you for tonight" Jenna said.

That moment, this moment, you were so sure that you wanted to kiss Jenna, you are thinking, you have stopped yourself many times to not kiss her so maybe this is a good chance to let go and just kiss her. Live on the now, you think. Your heart beating loud and you try to block the negative thoughts.

So one of your hand went into Jenna's side, you were slowly leaning in, waiting for a movement from the other girl to pull away and you felt none, so you persisted and you felt that Jenna was also leaning in, placing her hands into your shoulder.

A flashing of lights and a honk is heard that broke you apart. The windows rolled down and you saw Jenna's dad waving, getting down the car and going towards the both of you.

"Hey girls, hope I'm not interrupting something?" said and hugged Jenna and looked at you.

You introduced yourself "Good evening Sir, I'M Y/N, Jenna's friend and Natalie's co-worker.' and stretched your hand to shake his hand which he did shake and exclaimed "So you are who's Jenna is talking about, huh?"

Jenna nudged her father "Dad, please stop" which made her father laugh and said "Well, if you are hungry you can go inside and dig in." and leave the both of you outside again.

You broke the silence and said "Well, I'm gonna go home" you take Jenna's hand and kissed the back of it, "Good night my husband" You said with a teasing smile referring to Jenna's costume and you started to walk down their front yard.

Jenna then said "Good night to you my wife, call me when you're home" and blow you a kiss which you catch and kept it in your pocket that made Jenna laugh.

And that maybe was the greatest Halloween that you could have ever have in you whole life.

______________________________________________________________

Chap 6

A/N: an update, hope this was good. Thanks for reading!

[fili-urzudel]

Engagement and Marriage Headcanons - Elrond x Reader

Just something to tide you over until I'm active again :) I wrote this a while ago so don't judge me

Warnings: none

- Elrond knew from the time he decided to ask you out that he wanted to marry you - he just... Has a different perception of time - so when one day you offhandedly mention that you've been dating/courting for 4 years it hits him that he might like to just take his time in this phase, but oh my GOD you don't HAVE that much time - so even though he tries to spend at LEAST 2 hours a day with you, you notice a complete absence for a few days - you start to worry that you scared him away or he finally realized that four years was enough time to waste on a human - but then one of the servants that assists the king's court comes and informs you that your presence has been requested by him in the courtyard - "And he would like you to wear this," she says, holding up a garment bag - when you take the dress out, you can't help an overdramatic gasp, because it's seriously gorgeous - It's the softest silk you've ever laid eyes on, a color that compliments your skin and a drape that compliments your figure with almost barely-there gemstones stitched in strategic places - The note in the garment bag reads: This dress can hardly sparkle as brightly as your eyes. However, I hope it will be a sufficient container of your beauty. - It's more than sufficient. - For Christ's sake, he's the one that picked the dress and he's still struck speechless at the sight of you - He decided to keep the proposal simple and more suited to human customs--the elven custom could stand a bit of rearranging. - He dropped to one knee in front of you, holding both of your hands gently in his. "Melethrilen, from the time I met you, I knew that you were special. In all my years in this land, no one has made me feel as you have. Your eyes are more radiant than the Evenstar, your hair is like the shining sea, and your heart," he said, voice only a little tight. "Your heart is a treasure chest of ever-increasing value. I am honored to be the object of your affections, and should you accept this ring," he withdrew his hand from yours to produce a golden band of twisting vines, "I would be all too proud to boast that I was chosen by you for marriage." - You're crying - Like, bad - But you manage to squeak out, "Of course" and the rest is history - He can't really be any more gentlemanly during your engagement when he was already a peak gentleman before, but he does show a lot of interest in getting the venue and catering (old world version of catering?) set up and studies human wedding tradition - You definitely lost count of how many dresses you wore to various dinners and congratulatory parties during your engagement and even your wedding (there were at least 3 dress changes) - It was a honking big deal - Partially because even by elf standards, Elrond should've been married a long time ago, so everyone is either very happy for him or a bit confused by his logic but sticking around for the spectacle of it all - You're convinced that Elrond set up some kind of elite guard because you didn't even have anyone making passive-aggressive comments toward you at all, when that was usually the case (something along the lines of a "pampered pet of Elrond's" or "he'll outgrow her before he outlives her") - During your engagement, he was also heavily involved in the design of your new home together - He lived pretty close to the city center at the time, but he decided to move closer to the outskirts away from the front gates when you two got married. - You were noticing little details that you loved about the house for months - And every time you pointed one out, he would just beam proudly - It's positively lovely

[candycandy00]

The Offering - A Sukuna x Reader Fic Part 3

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a human man, albeit a monstrously cruel and powerful one. Villages across the land worshipped him as a living deity. One such village holds a festival for seven nights in his honor every year, and on each night they make generous offerings to him, including women who are never seen again. On the fifth night, you are selected to be the offering.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

If you’d like to be tagged when I post another part, comment to let me know. You must have your age in your bio or pinned post and be 18+ to be tagged.  

Feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated!

Smut. 18+. Sukuna is a human (my theory is that he got his four-armed body by modifying himself with jujutsu fuckery later in life). Dubcon. Mentions of rape that happened “off screen”. Very rough sex. Blood. Sukuna just generally being a sadistic monster. F!Reader. This is dark and quite intense!

Extra Note: I usually hate dropping random Japanese into a fanfic but I just had to incorporate his “Gambare, Gambare” line because I ascend to a higher plane of existence every time he says it in the anime (there is literally nothing I wouldn’t let Junichi Suwabe do to me). Also this chapter is entirely from Sukuna’s perspective.

It was nearly sundown when one of the shrine maidens reported to Sukuna that the offering was awake. They had cleaned her up and bandaged her wounds while she slept, and now she was in one of the side rooms, eating. 

He was lounging on a pile of pillows on the dais, absently looking through some of the material offerings that had just started to arrive at the shrine’s doors. He held up a beautiful silk robe that had been stitched with an intricate cherry blossom pattern, and found himself imagining the offering wearing it. 

He could see the pale pink color of the robe against the girl’s flushed skin, could see how the silk would glide across her body and cling to the wetness between her legs. He could see himself ripping it off her, could see her crying because she’d never worn something so fine in her miserable little life and now it was in tatters. He even imagined spreading it on the floor and fucking her on top of it, staining it with her blood and a mixture of their cum, then making her wear it again. 

“Lord Sukuna?”

The shrine maiden’s uneasy voice interrupted his daydream. He looked down at the bowing figure before him and said, “Yes? What is it?”

“I asked where you would like us to take the offering once she is finished eating,” she replied, never looking up. 

He rubbed the silk between his fingers and said, “Take her back to the bed.”

“Yes, Lord Sukuna,” the woman replied, getting to her feet without ever raising her eyes. 

“And have her wear this,” he said, tossing the lovely pink robe to the shrine maiden. 

She caught it deftly and gave another bow before leaving. 

Sukuna stood up and made his way to the bedroom, trying to decide what he would do to the offering tonight. He had plenty of ideas, ways to make her cry and scream in agony, ways to make her moan and cling to him as pleasure wracked her fragile body, ways to get any sort of reaction he wanted out of her. But something had occurred to him this afternoon and it had filled him with irrational annoyance. 

The offering had only climaxed when he used his mouth or fingers to stimulate her, never from being fucked by him. It shouldn’t have bothered him. After all he’d never cared the slightest bit about such things before, but he couldn’t help feeling irritated. So he decided: tonight she would cum on his cock. Multiple times. He would make certain of it. 

Once in his bedroom, he removed his own robe and climbed onto his bed, where he sat with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. While waiting for the offering to appear, his mind wandered back to the fantasy he’d been imagining on the dais. His hand moved down to his cock and began lightly stroking while he pictured the offering in all sorts erotic or horrifying situations. 

By the time the shrine maidens announced their presence, he was rock hard and ready. 

They stepped into the room with their faces lowered, and behind them came the offering, wearing the pink cherry blossom robe. She got down on her knees and bowed as low as possible, and Sukuna dismissed the shrine maidens immediately. 

From the bed, he stared at her submissive form. While seeing her bow to him was pleasing, he wanted to see her whole body. “Stand,” he told her, and she did as he commanded. 

Now getting a good view of her in the robe, his breath almost caught in his throat. She looked so delicate and innocent in the robe, he wasn’t sure he’d have the patience to stick to his own plan for the night. 

Her eyes were instantly drawn to the raging erection he was still idly stroking. Like always, her eyes were glossy and frightened, but also unmistakably aroused. He still couldn’t quite grasp why she was so horny for him at all times, even when he hurt her, even when she was terrified. But that mystery was a part of why he found her so entertaining. 

“Th-thank you for the robe, Lord Sukuna,” she stammered out in that sweet voice. “I’ve never worn something so beautiful before.” 

Ahhh, there it was. Now he wanted to destroy it in front of her, to ruin it in some disgusting way and then tell her that’s all she deserves to wear and-

His eyes met her face, and she was smiling. It was the first time he’d seen her full, joyful smile, and it was far more lovely than he expected, so lovely that it derailed his train of thought entirely. 

He stopped stroking himself. He didn’t need to anymore. Her presence in the room, the smell of her skin, the certainty that beneath that fine robe her succulent little pussy was wet and needy for him, was more than enough to keep him hard. 

“Open the robe,” he told her, “but keep it on.”

That smile slowly slipped from her face, her cheeks reddening as she untied the sash and pulled the robe open. She was bandaged from her chest to right above her navel. There were a few faint red spots here and there to mark where she had been cut. 

“Come closer,” he commanded, and she stepped over to the bed. When she was within reach, he extended one arm and touched her bandaged breasts. With his fingers, he parted the white strips of cloth so that her pretty nipples stuck out between them, exposed, then he looked her over again. The bandages with their small blood stains, the way they squeezed and shaped her breasts, the hardening nipples peeking out, all made a very lurid sight. Then his eyes shifted down to her pussy, glistening with arousal, clear fluid already beginning to drip down her thighs. 

He used one finger to rub up her inner thigh, collecting a sticky drop. She flinched and tried to press her thighs together, obviously embarrassed. He licked the finger clean and wondered why she still felt shame over this. Did she not realize how pleasing it was for him to know he had this effect on her? 

“Climb onto me,” he said, and she blinked in surprise, then looked at his erection and seemed to understand what was happening. 

There was terror in her eyes, but also desire. She hesitated, then very carefully climbed onto the bed beside him. “How should I-“

“Face me,” he told her, and pulled her into his lap. With his height, they were at eye level with each other even with her sitting on him. She was a grown woman, but to someone as monstrously strong as him, she was practically weightless and had no more strength than a young bird. Her knees were on either side of his lap, her bottom resting on him, her slick pussy pressing against the underside of his cock, which was pointing at the ceiling. 

For a moment they just stared at each other. She was blushing again, probably intimidated by the extremely intimate position. Their faces were inches apart, and she had no choice but to look him in the eyes. Then he leaned even closer and said in his lowest, sexiest voice, “Get on my cock and fuck me until you cum.”

She drew back from him as if she’d been slapped, but his firm hands on her hips kept her in place. Her face was red as blood, her lips parted, her eyes becoming even more shiny and moist. Again, that glorious battle between fear and lust, all playing out on her face. 

He gave her hip a quick, light slap that made her cry out in surprise, and said, “You heard me.”

She looked so uncertain, so deliciously naive, that he couldn’t suppress a laugh at her expense. 

Her eyes darted back to his face. Was that… a hint of annoyance? At him? The audacity of it made him laugh again. “I’ll help you get the tip in, then it’s all you,” he told her. 

She nodded, then placed her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up. He positioned his tip in the right place, just barely going inside her, then moved his hands back to her hips and waited. 

After several seconds of looking like she might faint from sheer panic, she finally began to ease herself down. After he was only halfway in, she winced and halted, her knees holding her up. She stayed that way, seemingly frozen, until he sighed and said, “You’re going to have to move at some point. Or can you really cum like this?”

She closed her eyes, her hands gripping his shoulders so tightly they might have hurt a normal man, her legs quivering on either side of him. And then she moved, just slightly, making shallow little thrusts. They were wholly unsatisfying to him, but watching her clumsy attempts to fuck him were amusing nonetheless. 

He spoke into her ear, “I hope you have a lot of stamina. It’s going to take you all night to cum like this, and you’re not getting off me until you do.” 

Upon hearing that, she took one hand off his shoulder and reached down, tentatively touching her swollen clit with her fingertips. 

He immediately grabbed her wrist and pulled it away. “No, you’re not allowed to touch your clit. Cum only from the feeling of my cock inside you.”

She made a pitiful whining sound and returned the offending hand to his shoulder, her eyes still closed. 

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he said, and she obeyed. While maintaining eye contact, he asked, “You’re always drenched for me, so why can’t you cum when I fuck you?”

She had tears in her eyes as she kept trying to move up and down on his shaft. “Because you’re so rough with me, Lord Sukuna. It hurts too bad.”

“Then you should thank me. In my infinite kindness, I’m allowing you to control how deep and how hard you get fucked.” 

She said nothing more, but he felt her slide down a little further, her movements increasing in speed. She had nearly found a rhythm. She moved in a circular motion, and he felt his tip hit a spongey spot that caused her to release one of those little moans that he loved so much. 

Her hands slid from his shoulders to press into his abdomen, right below his navel. The pink robe slipped from her shoulders and pooled around her elbows and waist, revealing her bandaged breasts and pert nipples. Her eyes shifted down to his bare torso, seemingly enjoying the sight as her moans became louder. 

“Look me in the eyes,” he said in that low voice, and he could see goosebumps spreading across her flesh. He grinned, then added another command, “Announce when you’re about to cum.”

Her eyes flew open and she looked mortified. “I… I can’t!”

“Do it or it doesn’t count.”

She whimpered, but kept moving, kept looking him in the eyes. 

She was getting close, he could feel it. She kept moving in a way that caused him to hit that spot she liked so much, her moans getting longer and closer together. 

He decided to help her out just a little. He put one hand in her hair, threading his fingers gently though the strands, and pulled her closer to him. With his lips grazing her ear, he said in such a soft, low voice that it was almost a whisper, “Cum for me. You have the great Ryomen Sukuna’s cock buried in that tight little pussy of yours. Think only of that. Concentrate on how I feel inside you, and cum while looking into my eyes.”

He pulled her back enough that she could look at him, and the expression of pure arousal on her face made his cock twitch. She mumbled something he didn’t hear clearly between her moans. 

“What was that?”

“… c-cumming,” she murmured, her eyes darting away from his for a split second. 

He smirked at her. “You have to speak clearly so I can hear you.”

Her voice was just a little louder when she said, “I’m about to cum…” And again she briefly looked away when she said it. 

His fingers were still in her hair, so he tightened his grip and held her head still. “Stop looking away. And be louder.”

Her eyes locked on his, and he saw that she was nearly in tears. “I’m cumming,” she cried out, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Ahhhh!”

He felt her pussy clench him tightly as her body tensed up. She sat there, eyes frozen on his, her entire body twitching and convulsing until her orgasm finally passed. Then she collapsed against his chest, panting heavily, her weak legs somehow still holding her up. 

Sukuna had watched all this with amusement, but his own desire was totally unfulfilled. He’d told her she could control how deep he went, but how could he resist going deeper when this warm, wet little thing was over halfway down his cock, her body trembling against his? Even his willpower wasn’t that strong. 

His hands moved to her hips, and before she could react at all, he jerked her all the way down, his entire length disappearing inside her. The shocked expression on her face made him want to laugh. She’d gasped, her eyes widening and instantly filling with tears, her soft hands pressing against him as if she could push herself back up. But he was holding her down firmly, thoroughly enjoying how this angle allowed him to penetrate her even more deeply than the other times he’d fucked her. 

“You haven’t made me cum yet,” he told her. “Don’t be selfish and pass out before satisfying me. Now start moving.”

She was shaking, looking at him as if he’d betrayed her. “I can’t,” she cried, “it hurts!”

He reached up and stroked her hair in a comforting manner, and in a sweet voice he spoke savage words: “Ride my cock until I cum into your womb, or I’ll paint the entire shrine in your blood.”

Her face was stricken with horror, but she gradually began to move again. It seemed harder for her this time, as she was practically impaled, but she’d just figured out how to move in a way that felt good, so she tried repeating the motions from earlier. It worked, evidenced by the short moan she released. 

Sukuna grinned, using his hand in her hair to hold her head still, not allowing her to look away. He wanted to watch all the delectable emotions in her eyes as her body was caught between pleasure and pain. With his free hand he squeezed one of her breasts, then used his thumb to circle an exposed nipple. She was moaning again, filling his ears with such glorious sounds. 

“You’re doing so well, taking me so deep,” he whispered in her ear, “but you can take me harder too, right?”

She shook her head while maintaining eye contact, but she was clenching him again, breathing harder, making an actual attempt to move faster. He moved his face closer to hers and ran his tongue across her lips, parting them and invading her mouth, letting his own saliva drip onto her tongue. He pulled away and said in a voice that he knew would send shivers through her whole body:

“Gambare, gambare…”

The result was immediate. She clamped down on him and cried out, “Ahhh! C-cumming!”

He was pleased that she remembered to say it, and he enjoyed watching her lose herself to her climax, but her movements had slowed considerably. She was leaning on him, her weak body nearly spent. 

“Don’t stop moving,” he said, his voice low and threatening. 

She whined but picked up speed again. It looked like such a struggle for her, keeping his massive erection so deep inside, moving up and down while her orgasm was still wracking her body, keeping her teary eyes locked on his. She was still using that motion that caused him to hit her sweet spot, and she was so sensitive from cumming twice in a short amount of time that she was working her way to another climax.

But he didn’t want the pleasure to completely overtake the pain, so he pinched her nipple harshly, making her wince and grip his shoulders. 

Disappointed by her reaction, he moved his hands to her waist and lifted her up, then slammed her back down. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, as if she had lost her breath. 

“Not going to scream for me?” he asked. “That’s the fastest way to get me off.”

He lifted her up again, but as he did so, she suddenly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching him as if doing so would make the pain bearable. He suddenly remembered the sight of her radiant smile while thanking him for the robe, and his hands faltered. She eased back down onto him, as deep as before but nowhere near as hard. 

“Lord Sukuna…” she murmured, tightening her arms around him, moving up and down slowly, carefully. He could feel every part of her, from her breasts pressed against his chest to the walls of her drenched pussy, to her delicate hands gripping him. 

His hold on her hips tightened, and he pulled her down so that he was as deep as possible when he shot his seed into the very core of her being. Even after he had bottomed out, she still clung to him, not moving off him. 

He pulled back enough to look at her face, and found her usual lusty expression. He laughed. “Do you like being stuffed full of me that much?”

She didn’t answer, but she moved as if to climb off him. He stopped her and said, “Take off the robe and throw it to the floor. You don’t want to stain it, right?”

She nodded, looking embarrassed for not thinking of that herself. She slipped the robe off and dropped it beside the bed, then she eased herself off his cock, wincing. 

His cum, hers, and a small amount of blood poured out and spilled in his lap. He didn’t mind, but she seemed distressed by the sight. “Ah, there’s a mess, Lord Sukuna,” she said, rolling off him and sitting up on the edge of the bed. 

He grabbed a blanket and wiped it all up, then tossed the blanket aside. The offering stood up and bent down to retrieve the pink robe from the floor. She carefully folded it into a neat square, then smiled again and hugged the bundle of fabric to her chest. She looked so happy, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“Do fine clothes please you so much?” he asked her as he scooted down so that he was lying on his back. 

She looked at him and then back to the robe, a faint blush on her cheeks. “It is beautiful, my Lord, but more than that… it’s a gift from you!” She turned her face away shyly, but he could tell she was wearing an ecstatic expression. 

He blinked, surprised by the fact that he liked looking at her this way. He’d never once wanted to see someone happy, to see them smile. He craved suffering and misery for everyone around him. But just this once… perhaps seeing someone’s joy wasn’t so bad. After all, he was going to kill her once the festival ended. He’d never left an offering alive, not even in other villages that held similar festivals. He watched her hugging the robe and extended his hand to her. “Come,” he said, pulling her back into the bed after she laid the folded robe on the nearby dresser. 

He pulled her on top of him and threw a sheet over them both. She looked at him curiously, but he was already starting to fall asleep. For perhaps the first time in his life, Ryomen Sukuna fell asleep with a woman in his arms. 

Tag List:

@yourmumsthings @boogeysmoth @gojoscumslut @slut4animedilfs @urcrybby24 @kaqua @mizloca @httpslu0

[pangborns]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS.

charlie walker x fem!reader.

in which your nerdy boyfriend lets his desire for bloodshed overshadow his love for you.

scream 4 spoilers, blood, violence, death, weapons, canon type gore.

I started this fic like 6 months ago lol, but I finally got the inspo to finish! sorry it’s kinda short and dark :(

You screamed as the killer turned toward you, dropping Robbie’s cold body to the pavement. He stood to his full height, flicking the warm blood off of his weapon and taking a heavy step toward your wide eyed stance.

“Robbie..?” You practically squeaked, tears squeezing through your squinted eyelids. “Get up.”

The demand was not granted. Salty trails now glistened on your paling face as Ghostface tilted his head at your behavior.

Your attention quickly hopped from the dead friend to the ever-advancing killer. “Please don’t hurt me.” You begged, hands shaking as you tried to hold yourself for comfort. “I-I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Ghostface simply continued his trek toward your small frame. The adrenaline kicked in as you turned to sprint, just barely out of reach from the murderer in the black cloak.

You quickly remembered your friends still inside the house. Your boyfriend. You had followed Robbie out to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid while on his drunk journey through the yard and now you regretted it. The picture of his dead body would forever overshadow the memories of your friendship.

You reached the back porch, running up the stairs two at a time. “Help! Let me in!” You pounded on the glass door, watching as Jill, Kirby, and Sidney all squinted at you, confused. Sidney quickly jumped into action, figuring right out what was happening.

You fell through the opening, quickly turning yourself over onto your back and trying to kick away from the glass door. “Close it, close the door! He’s out there!” You sobbed, struggling to catch your breath.

Jill was quick to kneel down beside you as Sidney and Kirby locked the door and peered through the window. “Who, (Y/N)?” She spoke gently.

“It’s him. The one that killed Liv. He got Robbie.” You hiccuped, rubbing at your sore knees from the fall. “Robbie’s dead.”

Kirby quickly joined your huddle on the cold tile floor and hugged you tight.

“We have to go,” Sid spoke up, voice shaking as she tried to keep calm for the group of young girls. Sidney grabbed you by the armpits and helped you up as Kirby and Jill led the way to the front door. “We can make a run for the car.” She concluded. You thought of Charlie. You hoped he was alright wherever he was hiding.

You panicked as the group of you approached the front door. “No, Robbie’s out there. Don’t-“

Kirby heaved open the door, greeted with the gory sight of Robbie’s corpse. Everybody screamed.

The black hooded figure emerged from behind a pillar on the porch, sprinting towards the door. Sidney slammed the oak door closed, ushering everybody upstairs hurriedly. The four girls ran up the wooden stairs as Ghostface kicked down the heavy door.

A hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you off balance. You fell to the ground, hitting your chin on a step. Blood gushed from the spot on your face, but that wasn’t your biggest problem at the moment.

Being at the back of the pack, the others had gotten upstairs and barricaded separate doors without noticing your absence.

He flipped you onto your back, straddling you. You screamed, hitting the killer in the chest, trying to kick your feet to free yourself from his hold. Ghostface looked down at you eerily, raising a knife above his head, readying for the kill.

“Hey! Fuckface!” A voice screeched from up the stairs. Kirby waved her arms frantically, trying to catch the killer’s attention.

His posture tensed as he released you and made his way toward the blonde. “Kirby, no!” She ran down the hallway, being chased by the cloaked killer.

You wheezed out a whimper, struggling to get up. You’d need stitches on your chin for sure, the blood was trailing down your shirt at this point.

You had to help Kirby. You knew you’d stand no chance by yourself, and you were so worried for Charlie. You needed to find him, make sure he was okay, and he’d help.

“Charlie!” Your throat was sore, voice hoarse. You spent a few minutes stumbling around the first floor of the house looking for your boyfriend to no avail. He was nowhere to be seen.

“(Y/N)?” You turned toward the sound. Charlie. He was covered in blood and looked delirious. You limped toward him, enveloping him in a tight hug as your tears stained his white shirt. He seemed to be out of breath, as if he was in a hurry.

“I was so worried,” You cried. Letting go of him, you looked up. “We have to go help Kirby. He’s after her!”

“Kirby’s dead, (Y/N).” A simple statement.

Your breath hitched. “What- why would you- what?” You stuttered.

“Never mind that, come here baby. I was so worried about you.” He opened his arms, expecting another hug.

In shock, you hesitantly moved toward him for comfort. Looking up to meet his eyes, you didn’t see any change in emotion as the knife pierced your stomach.

Your mouth fell open. Whimpers quickly escaped your bloody mouth as the blade nestled itself inside of you.

You grabbed his biceps, trying to find support as you slumped a bit in his arms.

“Shh, shh I know. I know.” It was as if Charlie was trying to comfort you as he delivered you closer and closer to death.

Blood trickled from your mouth and down your chin, falling onto his button up. “Charlie.” You gurgled.

“It’s okay. Just take your time.” He muttered, stroking your hair comfortingly.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. The same ones you’d stare into lovingly. Your knuckles were white as you fisted his shirt.

“Doesn’t happen as quick as it does in the movies, huh?”

His words fell on deaf ears as your knees finally gave out. He kneeled down to help you lay on the ground. “Charlie?”

He closed his eyes, a few stray tears escaping as he heard you call his name. He pulled the knife from your abdomen, closing his eyes tighter as he heard the noise of the weapon leaving your skin. “I’m sorry.”

The blade punctured another part of your stomach. Charlie audibly cried as you grew weaker and weaker in his arms.

Sidney ran down the stairs, running a bloodied hand through her knotted hair. “Jill? Jill!” Her attention was turned to the sound of a thud as Charlie shoved your dying body to the ground.

Sidney covered her mouth with her hands in shock.

“Oh good,” Jill. “You dealt with her.”

Charlie let out a strangled cry, watching the light leave your eyes. Jill started monologuing to Sidney who could barely see through the tears that invaded her eyes.

Your head lolled to one side, eyes landing on Charlie’s figure, now even bloodier because of you. He tried so hard to ignore your gaze.

“Char-“ a weak arm stretched from your side and toward your boyfriend. With no more reason to hold on, your eyes glazed over and you succumbed to death’s call.

[ladykailitha]

In the Midnight Hour Part 11

And now we get to the healing and the ending. There are 13 parts in total. I am currently working on a Valentine’s day fic, but after that I fully plan to get back to the other two WIPs.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  

*

Steve woke up first. He saw Dustin and Wayne looking down at him, relief flooding every inch of their bodies.

“Is everyone okay?” he rasped.

Wayne let out a watery chuckle. “Eddie’s still in surgery. They’re trying to save his fingers and vocal cords. The bite on his throat was the deepest and whatever it was that happened when you changed him back, caused a lot of damage. He has two gashes on his back from where the wings were and tips of his fingers were broken.”

Steve let out a distressed cry. “What if he can’t play guitar or sing ever again? It would kill him.”

Dustin and Wayne shared a glance. They both had similar thoughts.

“He’s alive,” Wayne assured him. “That’s the important part right now. Don’t worry about anything else.

Just then Eddie was wheeled back into the room. He was on his side and they could see the heavy bandages on his throat, back and fingers.

The surgeon came in behind the nurses wheeling Eddie in. As the nurses began to hook Eddie up to the machines, the doctor came up to Wayne.

“If you’d step with me out into the hallway,” the doctor began, “I’ll go over with you how the surgery went.”

Wayne looked at Steve and Dustin and shook his head. “They’re Eddie’s family, too. You can say whatever you want in front of them.”

The doctor eyed Steve skeptically. He could believe that Dustin could be a younger brother, but everyone knew who Steve Harrington was. Not because of his family, but by how much time he had spent in that hospital in the last three years.

The doctor met Wayne’s steely gaze head on, but folded first. It wasn’t any of his business if Wayne Munson declared him family.

“Right,” the doctor began. “The surgeries on his back and fingers went fine. The gashes were clean, as were the breaks on his fingers. He should get full range of motion back in his hands in no time at all.”

All three of them let out a sigh of relief.

“And his throat?” Steve asked timidly.

“That’s the hard part,” the doctor said. “We won’t know how successful we were until he wakes up. We did everything we could, the best that we could. All we can do now is wait.”

A nurse came up to him with a different file and the doctor traded Eddie’s file for the new one.

“And since you’re awake, now, Mr Harrington,” the doctor said coldly, “we should talk about your injuries.”

Steve winced. “What’s the prognosis, doc?”

“You are a modern miracle,” the doctor said flatly. “You should, for all intents and purposes, be dead.”

Wayne and Dustin looked over at Steve in shock.

“Let’s see,” the doctor said lifting up the first page and flipping through what looked to be several pages of x-rays and other medical jargon. “The gash on your chest and stomach is infected and we are currently pumping you with enough antibiotics to knock out a horse and yet...” He waved to Steve’s wakefulness.

Steve blushed.

“We reopened them and sewed them shut properly so that they will heal correctly,” the doctor continued, giving Steve the stink-eye. “You had a lot of minor abrasions that didn’t require stitches, but they have been cleaned, disinfected, and bandaged.”

“That’s good then,” Dustin said feeling relieved.

“Oh all that’s fine,” the doctor intoned. “It was the CT scan of his head, that really stumped every neurologist and neurosurgeon that looked at it. Son, are you aware how many concussions you’ve had?”

Steve looked up and began to count on his fingers when he started running out of fingers on the one hand the doctor stopped him, waving his hands dramatically.

“Enough!” the doctor cried. “One is too many, Mr Harrington! You have had more concussions than the average professional football player in ten years of playing, in the last four years.”

Steve dropped his head and hunched his shoulders. “I know.”

“You going to have to start seeing a neurologist and taking medications for your migraines and other head related issues. I’ve set up for hearing and eye tests in the next couple of days and then going forward you will have to take those tests every six months to make sure we catch any problems that may crop up due to the trauma.”

Steve nodded. Wayne took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“We’ll get through this,” he murmured.

“Hell, yeah,” Dustin said.

“Just one more thing,” the doctor said. “You’re parents were notified as next of kin.”

Steve and Wayne shared a nervous glance.

“They could not be reached,” the doctor continued, “so I had an orderly try and run them down.”

Steve grimaced. “They hadn’t called in awhile,” he admitted shyly.

“He was able to track them to New York where they had been living for the last two years,” the doctor said.

Steve’s eyes went wide as he leaned forward. “Excuse me? Living?”

The doctor nodded. “Your journalist friend did some further research, and found that they had listed the house in Hawkins as their secondary home.”

Steve’s lip quivered and he bit it to fight back the tears. “Why? Why didn’t they say something?”

The doctor shook his head. “Your friend is looking into it, but there is some suggestion they have even signed the house you currently reside over to you a year ago.”

“What?!” Dustin screeched. “A year ago!”

Steve frowned. “I‒I vaguely remembering getting something in the mail after the mall burned down, but I was so out of it...”

“The people currently paying for your care have told me to inform you that they are taking care of everything and to just relax,” the doctor said, sound sympathetic for the first time. “Rest up, Mr Harrington. It looks as though you have a long road ahead of you.”

The doctor left leaving behind a stunned trio.

“I haven’t gotten anything from them in over a year,” Steve said, as he choked back a sob. “I was getting really worried when I couldn’t reach them. I thought something had happened to them. Maybe that would have been better than to be completely abandoned and discarded like an ill-fitting sweater.”

“We’ll get this sorted out,” Wayne said. “I’ll talk to Owens and find out what’s being done. And by the time you’re out of here, it’ll be all sorted.”

He stood up and gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. He walked over to Eddie’s bed side and knelt down so they were face to face. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I don’t know if you can hear me right now, but I need to know how much I love you and that you have to wake up. Not for me, though I wouldn’t mind. Steve’s going to need you now more than ever.”

He smoothed Eddie hair and brushed it gently out of his face. He kissed Eddie’s forehead and stood back up.

“Dustin, let me know if anything changes with Eddie,” he said turning to the younger boy. “And Steve, make sure if you need anything you let someone know right away.”

Steve nodded. He looked down at his hands and sighed. “There is one thing, sir.”

Wayne smiled softly. “What’s that?”

“Can‒can the two beds be brought closer together?” he asked shyly.

“I can ask.”

Steve gulped. “Thanks.”

“Take care,” Wayne murmured.

*

The two beds were pushed closer together. Just far enough apart that a nurse could squeeze through to look at Eddie’s machines and make adjustments as needed.

On the third day, Eddie opened his eyes.

“Wayne...” he whisper shouted getting the man’s attention.

Wayne’s eyes snapped to Eddie’s now opened eyes. “Eddie!” He jumped up and tapped the nurse call button. “Hang on, son. I’ve got nurses on the way.”

Eddie nodded.

The nurses came pouring in and made adjustments, got Eddie some water, and lifted the bed to a more upright position. They made sure he was comfortable before they left him alone.

“What’s wrong with my voice?” Eddie asked.

Wayne smiled sadly. “We don’t know. The doctors did everything they could. You could get it back, but it will take time.”

Eddie’s hand went up to his throat. “And if I don’t get back?”

“Then we learn sign language,” Steve said. “And you’ll still be able to talk a mile a minute, if not faster, being able to use your hands.”

“But‒” Eddie whispered. D&D, his band. Sign language was great for every day, but what about the things he loved...

Steve reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

Eddie looked into Steve’s eyes and found hope there. “Okay...”

“In the mean time,” Wayne said pulling out pad of paper and a pen. “Use this to keep you from hurting your throat further.”

Eddie nodded, taking them both in one hand so he wouldn’t have to let go of Steve’s hand.

“Maybe for D&D, if you end up not being able to speak,” Steve said with a grin, “I’ll be your interpreter. That will really freak out your club.”

Eddie let out a little wheeze and then in big bold letters wrote with the pen in his fist like a toddler, “DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH!!!!!!!”

The doctor chose that moment to come in. “Mr Munson, it’s good to see you awake.”

Eddie smiled and waved.

“I’m sure by now you have noticed your voice is rough at the moment,” the doctor continued.

Eddie rolled his eyes and wrote: “It’s not just rough, it’s fucking gone!”

The doctor frowned and got out a pen light to look at Eddie’s throat. “Everything seems fine. It’s most likely due to non-use. I will get a speech therapist in here by later today and see if we can get you back to your chatty self in no time at all.”

Steve was practically bouncing in his bed. “You see, Eddie? Everything’s going to be just fine!”

Eddie blushed.

Wayne stood up. “I’m going to go let everyone know you’re awake.”

Eddie waved and Steve smiled.

Eddie let his hair fall in front of his face and wrote: “You kissed me.”

Steve laughed. “I did tell you I wanted to weeks ago.”

Eddie shoved his hair into his mouth. “I felt your love for me down there.”

Steve’s smile turned fond. “Yeah. Did you know about your uncle’s powers?”

Eddie shook his head and wrote: “Not really. Suspected something might be up when he always seemed able to suss out my moods, but no.”

“The only ones that seemed to understand what he was, was El and Will,” Steve said. “The two munchkins you haven’t met yet.”

Eddie’s shoulders shook, indicating his silent laughter. “Just how many children do you have?”

“All total?” Steve asked with a grin. “Seven. Just don’t tell their parents.” He winked at Eddie.

Eddie turned the page, having already filled the first one. “Seven? How the hell did you get seven kids? Did you kidnap them?”

Steve laughed. “No. The original four were Lucas, Will, Mike, and Dustin. Then El got added. Then Max and Erica the following year.”

“That’s a lot,” Eddie wrote.

“I would do anything for them,” Steve said softly.

“How did you know to use Wayne’s powers to make Vecna vulnerable?” Eddie wrote after a moment or two.

Steve grinned. “It was something your uncle said actually.”

“What’s that?” Wayne asked from the doorway.

Eddie wrote: “Hey that’s what I was going to say write!”

Wayne chuckled and moved to sit back down in the chair he vacated.

“You said that if you didn’t have a tight grasp on your powers that you would probably floor Hawkins with your love for Eddie,” Steve explained.

“And if I could do that without control,” Wayne agreed, “imagine what I could do with it completely controlled. You did a good job, son.”

Steve blushed. “I had help. You, El, Hopper, Eddie...” He glanced over at the other boy and then ducked his head.

“Yes, but you were able to put all the pieces together and come up with a plan,” Wayne said.

“You make me sound like Capt. Hannibal from ‘A-Team’,” Steve said shyly.

Wayne laughed. “You would be a fan of that one.” He clapped Eddie’s shoulder gently. “Rest up, everyone wants to see you.”

Eddie nodded. He couldn’t believe Steve had actually done it. Killed Vecna, destroyed the Upside Down, and saved him. His own personal hero. And as he closed his eyes, he dreamed of a life he never thought he could ever have.

Part 12  Part 13

Tag List:  @swimmingbirdrunningrock @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch@grtwdsmwhr  @chaoticlovingdreamer  @savory-babby @thequeenrainacorn @anzelsilver @estrellami-1 @steddieassheg0es @currently-steddiebrainrot @gregre369 @steddie-there @clumsywriter @babbler1202

[piecesofeden11]

15 Questions for 15 Friends

Thank you for the tags @sky-kenobye and @kato-neimoidia 💖 (Spoiler Alert, I won't tag 15 peeps so if you're reading this now: TAG! You're it! <3)

1. Are you named after anyone?

No. I wish I was, though. My grandmothers were Eva-Marie and Katherina respectively and I would've loved any combination of those. Mind you, I'm okay with my given name, it's rare and has a good ring to it and very hard to turn into stupid nicknames but it's never on any of those souvenirs that have names and as a kid, that was frustrating :D

2. When was the last time you cried?

Hm, not too long ago, I think, but long enough that I don't remember? Wait! There was a movie! Marriage Story, that made me cry! Such a good movie!

3. Do you have kids?

Four. The oldest is 15, the twins are 5 and the little one 2. (They are a horse and three cats ...)

4. What sports do you play/ have you played?

I did horseback riding when I was younger, then karate, had a streak of competitive swimming and I took ballroom dance lessons for 2 and a half years and earned my Gold Star level in them. When school got more demanding, I dropped almost all of that and started to gain weight to the point where sports hurt. I have recently lost a lot of it and have gone back to the Gym. I'm enjoying that a lot actually!

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Never! /s

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Style of dress, the smiles and voices ^^

7. What's your eye colour?

The most basic, boring of blues ...

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies! I love a good horror!!!

9. Any talents?

Immediate response? Nope ... but I guess ... I'm a decent writer, I cook well and I'm told that I make people feel at ease. I'm also told that my speaking voice is very nice and that I sound good on the telephone ... if that counts as a talent? Oh! I also sew, crochet and stitch well and make an adequate Dungeon Master ^^

10. Where were you born?

North of Germany

11. What are your hobbies?

Reading, Writing, Gardening (Soon!!!!), Cooking, Fiberarts, Terrain Building, D&D

12. Do you have any pets?

No. Only kids :D

13. How tall are you?

175cm

14. Favourite subject in school?

None, really. I hated school because of the bullying. I enjoy learning though and will read up on many different subjects <3

15. Dream job?

One that allows me to live comfortably without having to worry for money, but leaves me with enough time to pursue my soul's interests. I never really had a "dream job", except when I was really young when I wanted to become a pediatrician (is that the word for children's doc?) me and my then best friend wanted to open a joint practice where I treat children and she'd be a vet to treat their sick pets ... ^^"

[poppetsisters]

How did the Fantastic Four cosplay get made?

It started with an idea: to create the most comic accurate fantastic four costume possible. Already I'm hit with the question "but there's so many suits in the comics, so which suit will you choose?" I decided the easiest answer would be "The First One"

Okay I meant "The Second One."

There we go.

Now this costume is not the same as the the costume they wear for the majority of the Kirby run. By issue 6, the costume above was phased out for one without a turtleneck, a blue ring around the 4, a thinner belt, and no drop shadow on the 4. The only change I prefer is that Susan is no longer wearing high heels.

I like the first design better for its distribution of color. The thicker belt just reads nicer to my eyes, and the blue ring around the 4 makes no sense to me. Blue on blue? I also just really like turtlenecks.

Tangent aside, once I decided on a costume, it was time to get to work on the design. Part of the reason I made a Fantastic Four costume retrospective was in preparation for this project. Using the combined lore of the F4 costumes, I could synthesize the most accurate design possible, and my findings can be found below.

I've seen a lot of cosplays too, and part of my secondary goal was to avoid a lot of their shortcomings. I didn't want any bad materials, so I did my research and found materials that best fit my autism texture preferences. I also wanted to be very precise about where the gloves, belt, boots, and turtleneck were placed, hence why I decided to sew them all on, rather than be separate pieces. In an ideal world, there would've been no zipper, but what good is a suit you can't put on?

My brightest idea was separating the leotard from the trousers, instead of having one body suit. This was done as a practical measure to prevent tearing (which is exactly why real strong men in the circus wore them, which in turn inspired Superman's design, and the rest is history. For the F4, I interpreted Jack's artwork as a leotard, or maybe just underpants on the outside. As far as I'm aware, no cosplayer has noticed or applied this to their suit.

Next was a matter of finding someone to make this. I'm an artist, not a tailor after all. Twitter bots flooded my DMs, but what didn't disappoint me was Etsy. I DM'd a few sellers, gauging their personality and their previous work. I settled on PingPing, who you can find here: https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/PingPing

Their portfolio was exactly what I was looking for, and they were wonderful to work with. They asked for additional measurements, were up-front about materials, and were very fast!

Here's the catch. Their page says they use polyester spandex, which was what I wanted, but when they got back to me about materials, they gave me a nylon spandex blend. This made me nervous because I didn't know how this material felt, but every website I read told me it was ideal for sportswear and moving around as it was comfy and good at keeping sweat in, which was what I was looking for regardless.

The real issue was that nylon and spandex is one of the worst fabrics for printing. Nylon/Spandex doesn't do well with a heat press, either melting the fabric or causing shrinkage. In addition, the tight weave makes it really hard to allow flex in printed elements, not to mention adherence.

Their solution to this was to stitch on the logo, but I watched the 1994 Fantastic Four movie where they did just that, and it looked like crap! I took a big risk and told them that I would do the printing myself. I live in Toronto after all, surely there's at least one shop in the city that had the ability to do this.

Right?

That was a problem for Future Penny to solve, so I sent the payment and waited eagerly for my california-based commissionee to finish... and finish they did!

I was so excited seeing this. Even without the logo, it was already exactly how I envisioned it! It even wrinkled the same way around the belly that it does in the comics. I was floored! I was a little shocked that they shipped it before I was able to give notes, but then again, if I had requested any changes, they'd likely have to start all over. Thank goodness it's perfect.

It arrived at my apartment shortly after. I put it on, and it was the most comfortable thing I've ever worn in my life. Because it was tailor made, it hugged my body so well, I was quoting Ned Flanders in his ski outfit! I showed my girlfriend and she was a blushing mess (it was perhaps too revealing).

But there was still the matter of the logo. I called up several places across the city, got into email correspondence with them, and discussed what could be done. Unfortunately, out of the seven places that got back to me, none of them felt comfortable with the material.

I was stuck, if the city of Toronto couldn't do it, who could? That's when I realized how stupid I was:

"Don't I attend an arts school?"

With a tote bag in hand carrying the suit, I made my way to the campus, marching toward the textiles department. I had lied to them saying this was for a school project, but I think they all knew what this was really about. Despite this, they were fully on-board to help me.

The first thing that had to be done was make the screen layers. Their process of printing on fabric was to make stencils of the logo that represented each color (in this case, black and white. The blue was just the fabric itself). I hopped onto photoshop and whipped up the layers pretty fast.

Now it could've been printed that day, but there was a request. They wanted a swatch to print on to make sure printing on this tricky fabric wouldn't damage anything. In hindsight, it was really funny having to buy a $1 swatch with $20 shipping and handling. The swatch arrived quick, and I immediately set up an appointment to print the suit the next day.

It was raining hard, the thunder was so loud I thought it was right above my head, and Passover had begun. I was greeted by two wonderful students named Mya and Nicole. They brought my stencils into the dark room and had them imprinted on a screen like so:

They started out on a white canvas fabric, just to make sure it printed well.

Success! The next test was for the pigments themselves.

Uh oh, what happened? Well the black they were using was a transparent black, which was overlayed on the white dye, making it more see through than we wanted. The fabric itself shifted as well, so it was grossly misaligned. Always tighten your fabric with pins, folks. Another student who I can't remember the name of was able to search the storage area for better black dye.

Don't be fooled by the yellow lighting, that's a black print on blue fabric, not a gold print on a white fabric. Regardless, the black worked! The final test then... was the nylon/spandex swatch.

I couldn't believe it! It actually looked really great! The colors are really crisp, and it even allowed for a bit of stretching (an accidental benefit of the blue part being just the fabric is that it creates less strain on the print itself).

The big problem was that, during the drying phase when the white was applied, they used a hair dryer, which due to the heat, caused warping, hence the misalignment. That meant that when it came time to print on the suit for real, it had to air dry in a dry environment.

Through the leg holes, a block of wood with foam attached covered by a canvas fabric is placed inside (wasn't expecting to get any wood thrust in the suit, feels violating). Euphemisms aside, this was to steady the sheet used to print, as well as to hold the fabric and place and prevent the bumps created by the zipper on the back.

We must've spent 5-10 getting the logo to center and at a right angle. The entire time we were applying paint, we were nervous as hell. I had made the mistake of telling them this suit cost me $600, and there was no going back.

We watched with baited breath.

ALRIGHT IT'S GOOD IT LOOKS GOOD OKAY IT'S HAPPENING IT'S REALLY HAPPENING!! We waited for it to dry for about 45 minutes I think. I got something from the café and sat there thinking about how I was doing this on Passover. Jack Kirby's faith meant a lot to him, and it felt fitting that I brought to life one of his creations during a holiday he would celebrate. I think about my own faith sometimes... I'll leave it at that for now.

I got back into the studio, and they were waiting for me to put on the black coat. We spent another 5-10 minutes lining up the logo with the other logo so it would be the cleanest possible.

The last step was now.

And there it was. Words failed me, I admit. All I could do was look in stunned amazement that this was REAL!

We let it dry for another 45 minutes, where then they took out the pins and presented the fabric to me. They told me not to wash it for a whole month, which I then asked them what settings I should use for the washer. They told me to machine wash cold and delicate, and hang dry, which is thankfully exactly what PingPing told me to do. I walked home with the costume, hung it up in my closet, and joined my roommate for the seder meal.

Thank you for reading.

[slytherinwolf-16]

Zenipapa AU

Jigen

It had been a long day at work, juggling the usual motions of police work, along with dealing with the four kids cooped up in the office he was given. So being back home that evening was a relief.

Zeni isn't sure what exactly happened, but he accidentally bumped one of his glasses off the kitchen counter. He'd quickly scooped Fujiko and Goemon up, placing them on the couch so they wouldn't step on it and told Lupin to stay where he was sitting on the kitchen counter while he grabbed the broom and tray to sweep it up.

When he returned to the kitchen, not a minute later, Jigen was crouched by the glass, picking it up with his bare hands, while Lupin watched, confused. He isn't even sure where Jigen had been just a minute ago.

He was trying to figure out if he should admonish Jigen or just chase him away from the glass, when a single dark red drop dripped off one of his hands and landed on the tile. It could have echoed with how Zeni was focussed on it.

Jigen flinched slightly, but didn't stop picking up the glass or even drop what was in his hands already.

"Jigen" Zeni said, in hopes of getting the kid to stop. It worked, but not how he wanted. Jigen flinched and froze for a second before continuing to pick up the glass, now with more urgency.

"Jigen, stop," Zeni tried again, propping the broom against the counter and walking over. Jigen flinched, shrinking in on himself as if he expected to be hit. It broke Zeni's heart.

"Drop those in the bin, I'll take care of the rest of it," Zeni decided to try a different route. That seemed to snap Jigen out of his stupor and he made quick work of dumping the shards in his hands into the trash.

"Lu, take Jigen to the bathroom to wash his hands" Zeni said to Lupin, trying to get the kids out of the kitchen entirely.

Lupin moved to where there weren't any glass shards and jumped down from the counter, grabbing Jigen's wrist to drag him to the bathroom. Neither of them seemed bothered by blood, which worried Zenigata more than he'd like to admit.

Zeni cleaned the rest of the glass and wiped up the couple drops of blood before heading to the bathroom to see the extent of the injury. He stopped when he heard them talking.

"Pops was gonna fix that, why did you interfere?" Lupin asked, accompanied by the sound of crumpling toilet paper.

Jigen was quiet for a moment before he said, "My dad always dropped bottles and if I didn't clean it up, he'd get mad and throw the next ones at me instead of just dropping them."

They went quiet again for a moment before Zeni heard shuffling and the familiar sound of the first aid kit he had in the bathroom clicking open.

"What are you doing?" Jigen grumbled, getting a hum in return. "We need to clean and wrap your hand. It doesn't look like you need stitches." Was Lupin's reply.

That's when Zenigata knocked on the door and slowly opened it to help them. He wasn't sure why Lupin knew basic first aid at 4 but he'd find out at another time. He was more worried about Jigen's hand at the moment.

Blog tags:

@bookshop-cryptid

[allylikethecat]

January OTP Prompts

I think this might be my least favorite one I've written so far, but I actually wrote it so I'm calling it a win anyway.

Warnings for mention / descriptions of blood (Fictional!Matty accidentally cuts himself chopping vegetables) and a reference made to a past suicide attempt

4. Bright red

“Fuck!” Matty swore. He dropped the paring knife, and it clattered to the counter, then slipped off the cutting board and landed with a clang on the hardwood floor. “Shit,” he continued, tears welling in his eyes as he tucked his bleeding hand to his chest. He didn’t care that he was staining his white tee shirt with the fresh bright red blood that welled from the slice in the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“What’s wrong?” George asked, spinning around from the stove, his eyes widening at the commotion, at the bright red splatters on Matty’s white quartz countertop.

“I nicked myself,” Matty said, purposely not looking at the blood on the counter, he knew it wasn’t a bad cut but the shock of the sting had caused him to recoil in pain and surprise. Matty had always been squeamish and now even just looking at his own blood was making him feel light headed. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on breathing, a steady inhale and exhale. His hand felt like it had a pulse of its own now, throbbing painfully as his heart pumped more and more blood out of his body. 

“Let me see,” said George, stepping into Matty’s space and carefully pulling his hand away from his body, wincing at the blood staining his shirt, dripping down Matty’s hand. “Fuck,” said George, grabbing a wad of paper towels and pressing down on the cut, trying to stop the bleeding. 

“Is it bad? I didn’t think it was that bad?! Is it bad?!” Matty asked, the pain making him feel frantic, he didn’t want to look, he couldn’t look for himself. He tried to focus on the counter behind George, instead of the bright red splotch growing larger on the paper towel as he continued to bleed. They were going to have to throw away the bell pepper he had been slicing for the stir fry he thought hysterically, he had bled all over the vegetable. 

“It looked pretty deep,” said George, his voice sounding far away as Matty’s vision tunneled. He was no longer thirty four years old, standing in the kitchen with the love of his life, but sixteen in the bathtub, hands shaking as he tried and failed to end it all, bright red staining the white porcelain. His parents hard ripped out the tile in the bathroom after, replacing the bathtub with just a shower. 

“What does that fucking mean?” Matty asked, he needed to stop looking at the blood on the counter, but his vision felt spotty, and George’s worried face wasn’t providing any sort of comfort. 

“It means you might need stitches,” George said, “or to have it glued back together or something, I’m not sure I’m not a doctor.” 

“What about dinner?” Matty asked, his voice wavering. 

“We’ll get takeaway on the way back,” said George softly, putting his hand on Matty’s lower back to shepard him to the car. He paused, leaving Matty standing in the hallway to run back to the kitchen and turn off the stove.

“I’m sorry,” said Matty, still feeling woozy as he climbed into the passenger seat of his Audi. George pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“Accidents happen love,” he said softly, “let's just go get you all patched up.” 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3

[4e7her]

chapter four babey!! i'm working on a map of the empire but that's taking a while. thank god to past me who tried to make an entire world map for a dnd campaign i was able to cut that map up and stitch it together to make a new one for this. i'll probably post it after i finish it, rn it's just in planning stages

ao3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/55561897/chapters/142361914

quotev - https://www.quotev.com/story/16519931/a-drop-of-silver-in-a-sky-of-stars-yandere-m-various-x-m-oc/4

[ub-sessed]

These needles are too short to knit this pattern on only four needles: my stitches keep dropping off the far needle while I'm working.

I have put elastics on them for now, but it makes the whole process even more time consuming and fiddly.

I could try to find longer needles, but I will probably knit the rest of this leg warmer with 2 circs instead. I wanted to try 4 DPNs to see if I liked it better than 5, because 4 seems to be more popular. But I definitely like it less: There's way less mobility, which makes it harder to knit stitches onto adjacent needles, and the extra needles are even more in the way and stabby than they were with 5 (which is saying a lot).

DPNs are definitely not for me. Time consuming, awkward, way too many stabby points that get caught up on things, and there's always an extra needle in the way.

That's cool, I'm glad I learned how to do it!

I want to practise my 2 circs anyway because the next thing I'm knitting is tiny stockings for Christmas. It will mean knitting the ribbing a teeny bit looser, because my smallest circular is 3.5mm instead of 3.25mm, but I don't think that will be a problem.

[professorpski]

Interweave Knits: Summer 2023

Summer knitting is here which means lighter yarns and shorter sleeves. There are 9 tops and a cardigan in this issue along with an intriguing article by Karen Frisa which has broken me forever from not swatching. She knitted then blocked and also hung four yarns used in this issue; some of them grew in width or length and if you then multiplied out the 2 extra stitches in the 4 inch swatch to determine the effect across an entire garment, you realize how far off your sizing could become. Better to spend some time in the beginning, I now think, than to despair over time wasted in the end.

But on to the patterns. On the cover is the Branchport Cottage Top by Laura Barker which is a top-down circular construction with short rows over the yoke and a shaped waist. its is a full 4 out of 4 for difficulty because of the complexity of the lace stitch yolk. It is made of Elsebeth Lavold Hepathy a blend of cotton hemp and modal, which is a kind of rayon.

I give you a close-up of the front shoulders of the Orlaya Shell in a pale pink by Elena Dimchevska. It is worked in the round from the bottom up with a more solid stitch pattern across the shoulders. It has a very simple shape and then a charted lace stitch. It is 3 out of 4 for difficulty and is made of Drops Cotton Merino which is just what it sounds like.  

Far simpler to complete, but needing care for its eyelet argyle motifs is the Serene Summer Pullover in minty color by Fiona Munro. It is a 2 out of 4 for difficulty and is a bottom up, circular needle project made in Quince & Co Wren another wool and cotton blend.

The pale blue green tee is done with wrapped stitches and called Patio Nights Tee by Debi Maige. It is a 2 out of 4 for difficulty despite having shaped shoulders. The yarn is Shibui Knits Pebble in Crete, a blend of silk, merino and cashmere. 

Cables and a lace stitch that looks like wheat appear in the V-neck Abundant Tee by Blazenka Simic-Boro a 3 out of 4 for difficulty made of Hikoo Rylie in Pearl which is a alpaca, silk, linen blend. While cables always strike me as a cold weather feature, I want to try the lace stitch on something else.

The cover garments is the only pattern here that has waist shaping, the rest are rectangles, so you may want to add your own shaping if you swim in rectangles as I tend to do.

You can find this at your local yarn store, or online here: https://www.interweave.com/product-category/knitting/knitting-magazines/