#this one was tough but its done so I hope that you all enjoy it

[toadspondofwhimsy]

࿐ *ੈ✩ Breathing – Dean Winchester

SUMMARY: You’re severely hurt on a hunt and rather than wait and rely on medicine to do its job, Dean decides to take matters into his own hands. Inspired by the song Breathing by Yellowcard.  PAIRING: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader  WARNINGS: minimal violence, reader dying/implied death, swearing, no use of (y/n). WORD COUNT: ~1.6k  A/N: If you think I should add more warnings, feel free to let me know, just don’t be a dick about it. This one was kind of tough for me, I haven’t written something like this before, so any feedback is appreciated. Okay byeee I hope y’all enjoy :*   Divider Credit: me :)

The scream that was torn from your body was sickening to hear and for you, it meant pain. Both men whipped around, their eyes wide and crazed as they looked for the source. Dean knew instantly it was you, his eyes were on you just in time to see you go limp and crumble to the floor. He was a blur as he rushed to your side, quickly gathering you into his arms so he could check your injuries. Swiftly, Sam disposed of the threat with practiced ease; he sunk an angel blade into the thing that hurt his friend. 

When Dean positioned you into his arms, he cradled your head with a firm yet gentle hold. He let out a soft gasp and your name fell from his lips in a desperate cry. Your eyes were on him but only briefly as your eyelids felt like weighted blankets. You were feeling overcome with fear and most of all pain. The pain was overwhelming but sleep, now that was a sweet respite. A nice resting place was waiting for you, this you knew. If only you slept.

Dean shouted your name, shaking your body and gripping onto your shirt. His fingers wrinkled the fabric but you didn't mind. In fact, you didn't stir not one bit. The only indication to Dean that you were still alive, that you were still with him, is he could feel your breathing. Those soft labored breaths as your body struggled to keep itself alive.

He was so fucking scared. Scared he was going to lose you. Scared of the immense heart ache he would feel if that was to happen. Despite his catastrophic thinking he was alert, in tune to you. He feels his heart sinking like a wave as your breaths grow shallower. Dean is freaking the fuck out. He cannot lose you. He is so sure, so certain that he loves you. He can’t come up with one reason as to why he's kept that secret locked away behind his lips.

He knows he’s hurt you. God, all the things he’s done put you through. All the wreckless suicide missions, all the self-sacrificing he did for Sam, for Castiel, for you. All the times he avoided a proper goodbye with you. Now he can’t seem to remember if he’s ever given you a proper apology.

How could he be so stupid? so blind? so wrong? 

Every kiss he pulled you in, every drunken night that ended in splendor, every secret touch, and stolen glance, replayed in his mind. He felt immense guilt in using you, in toying with your feelings, in pretending you were nothing more than a hunting partner and an occasional good fuck. 

And now? He thought he would never get the chance to repair things with you. He'd never get to say I'm sorry, he’d never get to show you that he truly means it. 

He can feel his heart sinking in his chest. A pool of emotion released from him as a sob shook his body. His arms tightened around you, pulling you to his chest. Frantically he pressed his lips to the top of your head, your hair tickled his nose but he didn't notice or care. His cheeks were slick as he pleaded, “please, give me one more chance. Don’t leave. Not yet. Don't leave me.” 

Sam eased his foot down making contact with the floorboard at the sound of his brother's cries. It wasn't often that Dean showcased such raw emotion. Dean didn't have to say anything to Sam, didn't have to explain, because Sam knew his brother like the back of his hand. Sam knew all this time Dean had loved you. Sam's eyes darted to the rearview mirror so he could check on the scene unfolding in the backseat. His frown was deep as the worry dug its claws into his heart. Another death was not allowed, not on his watch, not his friend. Sam’s focus returned to the road as the needle on Baby's speedometer twitched, her engine roared as the vehicle pushed onward.

The sounds of the machines were not comforting to Dean, not one bit. To him it didn't matter that he could watch your vitals on the screen all night. He needed to be right beside you and that’s where he sat. He was exhausted with worry as he leaned back in his seat. He kept his eyes trained on you, making sure your chest continued to rise and fall with every shaky breath you drew in. He hated the sight of you in that bed, your hands were cold to the touch, the typical rosiness of your cheeks was gone, and an oxygen mask was strapped to your face. His eyes felt heavy but the sound of your breathing, shallow and labored kept him awake. 

Dean was never known for exemplary patience, in fact, he was known for the opposite. He felt like you should be awake by now. Quickly, he stood up and took long strides toward the door. Sam stepped back into the room, blocking Dean's exit, he gave Dean a quizzical look. 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked. He was unable to hide the suspicion from his tone.

“I need to do something, I need to help them, sam!” Dean responded a bit harshly. He could have been gentler in his tone, but if anyone understood the stress Dean was feeling in this moment, it was Sam. 

Sam gave Dean a sympathetic look that only worked to set his nerves even more on edge. Dean hated that damn look. 

“Dean, you’re not going to do something stupid. You think they would be happy with that?" Sam stated from his place blocking the exit. He wished he could say he was wholly concerned with you, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Sam knew if he lost his closest friend as well as his brother on the same day, he would be irreparably broken. 

“Actually, I think they’d be happy to still be alive!” Dean replied, practically shouting. 

Sam hushed him with what could only be described as mom face. 

“Really, Dean? Because you know I've been there,” Sam was yelling at his brother now. He was feeling frustrated with this all too familiar conversation. Sam was hurting too, he was scared too, but he wasn't going off to do something idiotic. Not yet, anyway, but Sam always had more faith in medicine than Dean did. 

“I’ve been stuck here with no way to save you after you pull one of these boneheaded stunts. You want to be better for them? Start now and sit back down. Be there when they wake up.” Sam argued further. 

Dean knew Sam was right and that angered him even more. He felt as if sitting around and waiting was accepting defeat. No, Dean didn't have to rely on some doctor to fix what he very well could on his own. Sam standing there, with that damn look on his face was getting under Dean’s skin far more than it should. He reeled back his arm and when he sent it forward, his fist cracked against Sam's jaw. Sam grunted and hunched over as his long fingers rubbed at the painful spot. Dean's fist connected again with Sam's head, this time knocking him out and sending him to the floor. Dean stepped over Sam's body and hurried out of the hospital. 

When Dean returned to the hospital, you were awake. The hospital bed was set to a slight incline so that you were upright but still relaxed. Sam was in the room with you, sitting by your right side and holding your hand. His thumb was rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles as you both anxiously awaited Dean’s return.

Dean hurried over to your left side, his eyes were cast downward, avoiding making contact with either you or Sam. Your brows furrowed as you looked at the man you begrudgingly love. You had this gut feeling he was guilty. 

The frown you once held twisted on your face, morphing into something more angry, as his dirt stained hand reached out for your own. Your eyes welled with tears at the sight of dirt caked under his nails. Your harsh look bore into his eyes as he still refused to look at you. 

“What did you do?” You asked, your voice shaky and cracking as it rose.

“What the fuck did you do?” Now you were screaming at him, allowing the frustration and anger to not only bubble over, but spill out. 

Dean remained silent, the lump in his throat bobbing as he swallowed around it. The emotion was thick in his throat and chest. He was unable to speak, unable to tell the truth, not right now at least.

“Dean.” Sam called out, the sound of his voice so deep it rattled in his chest. 

When Dean still didn’t answer. You felt like you were losing your mind. Why did he always do this shit? 

“What the fuck did you do?” You asked again, tearing at your throat with how loud you yelled. “Motherfucker, answer me!” You sobbed. 

Sam stood up and extended his arm to grab Dean's shoulder. He gave him a hard shake, “hey! Dean. What did you do?” 

As if Sam pulled Dean out of his guilt induced trance, he finally looked at you. His glassy eyes met yours. He could hear your breathing, heavy and shaky as sobs wracked your chest. He could feel his heart sinking like a wave. He knew he hurt you again, but he also knew you’d get over it, like you always did.

After all, he did it for you, right? He sacrificed himself so you could live.

Despite that, he couldn't shake the feeling that as you looked at him with all too familiar anger, the only love he ever knew he threw it all away.

[monzabee]

viva las vegas - mv1 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Max celebrate his win in a way you’ve never done before.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, having sex tipsy but there is consent?, manhandling, unprotected sex (are you even surprised at this point), oral (fem receiving), sex (duh), cursing, cockwarming (oops), minors dni!!

Request: “Hey babe! I’m obsessed with your last Charles piece, I’ve been wanting to read something like that for such a long time and you did it perfectly 😍🥹 I was wondering if I could request kind of the same concept with Max Verstappen? Like he always is pictured as a tough guy and stuff, but when you see him in videos he’s kind of a goof, so I imagine the first time he’s intimate with his gf they’d both laugh and have the sweetest time together” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! is this my best work? no but it is something i managed to get done for the first time in like a month so here it is!! finishing this fic was a journey within itself, but i can honestly say that it was also kind fun? also, i saw a picture of max in his suit from vegas and that just inspired this whole thing, so i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Max is buzzing with life, quite literally, you can feel him practically buzzing the whole time he’s trying to take you back to your hotel room as fast as possible. It’s most likely due to the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed after the race. Honestly it is pure luck that you found your way back to your room, given your current state, but instead of joining you when you jump on the bed, revelling in its comfort, he chooses to stand at the end of the bed as he watches you with an entertained smile on his face.  

“What?” you ask, a laugh washing through you as you raise yourself on your elbows, “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

He lets his eyes wander over your figure, his smile becoming more boyish as he lets it widen on his face, “You look pretty,” he murmurs, bending down so he can lower himself over your body better, “have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?” 

“Um, yeah, Maxie,” you giggle as you point out, “you’ve been telling me that the entire night.” Using your hands as support while raising yourself more so that you could be face to face with him, “I think you look pretty too, you know?” 

“Yeah?” Max murmurs, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, his thumb quick to caress the apple of your cheek, which causes you to lean into his touch. “What if I wanted to kiss you, would that be okay?” 

The smile you offer him in return is sweet, the way your eyes seem to shine at the offer of feeling his lips against yours makes his heart beat faster in his chest. “Yes, please.” Your voice is softer, almost comes out as a whisper due to you suddenly feeling out of breath.  

And who is he to deprive his girl? 

He doesn’t waste any time pressing his lips against your awaiting ones, in fact, the movement of his lips are rushed, if not almost desperate. It's as if he can't get enough, as if he's afraid this moment might slip away like sand through his fingers. The taste of alcohol lingers on both your lips, and normally you would be weirded out about it, but you realise it only adds to the intensity of the kiss you’re sharing with Max. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and you find yourself responding eagerly. You let him take control, mostly because it’s so easy for you to lose yourself in his kiss. He’s lost in it too, if you had to guess, because the way his tongue is fighting over yours for dominance is so different compared to the way Max usually kisses you. You whine at the loss of his lips when he reluctantly pulls away, and if he wasn’t already hard, the sound makes Max’s cock instantly harder. His head is thrown back, eyes closed as he lets out a groan, and he has to stop himself from pulling you in for another kiss. But you clearly have other plans as you drag your lips down towards his jawline, leaving kisses in a random pattern until you reach that one specific point on his neck that absolutely drives him crazy.  

And you know it’s only a matter of time until he stops you, again, as he has done for the past whatever months of your relationship. It’s not that you are not attracted to each other, because the attraction is as clear as day, and you have done stuff – not sex, but stuff. You’re not sure Max does that, but you also don’t want to be the one who pressures him into having sex with you if he doesn’t want to. Unbeknownst to you, the same goes for Max, who thinks you’re not ready to have sex with him and wants your first time together to be as special as possible.  

So no, you’re not surprised as he gently peals himself from you, causing you to whine again at the loss of him, but instead he gives you a small kiss on the forehead as he mumbles, “Why don’t you take a shower? We’ll go to bed after that.”  

“Is that your way of telling me I smell?” You ask in a playful tone, and he responds to you with a roll of his eyes. “What if I don’t want to go to sleep?”  

“No?” He asks, actively searching your expression for any sign of discomfort or reluctance. “We’ve had a long day, are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” The look you give him in return for his question is enough, and he knows this, but he also wants to actually hear the words, so he points, “Use your words, liefje.” 

A puff of breath leaves your lips in annoyance, but, nonetheless, you give him the best puppy dog eyes you can muster as you whine, “Please Maxie, you know what I want.”  

“Do I?” He muses, pulling you onto his lap as he ghosts his lips across your jaw. “I don’t know what you mean.”  

“Maxie,” you drag out his name, whining as your attempt at rolling your hips against his thighs don’t work. “You are being mean.”  

“Oh, baby,” he mockingly copies your pout, “I’m sorry. Can I apologise with a kiss?” To make his point, he presses a couple of soft kisses along your jawline.  

“Will you kiss me the way I like?” You ask, slightly out of breath, but his agreement that comes in the form of a hum makes you smile mischievously. His lips trail more kisses towards the neckline of your dress, and eventually through the valley between your breasts that is exposed by the lack of fabric. And you have every intention to let him have his way with you, you really do – after all, he won another great race. But a part of you also knows that making him suffer, even if just a little bit, in the process is so much more fun. So, just as he’s about to free of your breasts from the bustier of your dress, you quickly move away, slipping from his hands, trying your hardest not to laugh at the bewildered expression on his face. “On second thought, I think I’m going to take that shower after all.”  

“I—what?” Max mumbles, his slightly swollen lips pulled in a pout, and you can’t help but give him a small kiss.  

“I’ll see you after my shower, Max Emilian.” Sauntering over to the bathroom, you make sure to add an extra sway to your hips – and the sigh that Max leaves cause the smirk on your face to grow. 

It’s pure torture for Max to wait until you come out of the shower. Not that he doesn’t think about just joining you, especially after the show you just put on, but that would be giving into what you want – and though Max is a generous lover, he is also stubborn. He is more than happy to give you what you want, as long as it is on his terms. And so, he waits patiently, until you come out of the bathroom, a robe draped over your body, and he can’t help himself but let his eyes roam over your body.  

“How was your shower?” Max asks, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, a wolfish grin curving up on his lips. He rests his hands behind his head, relaxing onto the pillows behind him. He watches you give him a shrug, the soft-looking material sliding of your shoulder slightly as you collect your hair onto your shoulder. “Are you giving me the silent treatment, pretty girl?” 

There’s a coy smile on your face as you shake your head, once, twice, as your teeth press down on your bottom lip. Max wants nothing more than to release your lip, pull you into his lap and have his way with you, but no. No, because Max is nothing if not disciplined. “Come here,” he asks, straightening up in his place. You, being the ever-loving girlfriend you are, oblige his request. “That is a nice robe,” he murmurs, tilting his head as he grabs the towelette belt with the tips of his finger, “is it as soft as it looks?” 

“Mhm-hm,” you nod, “do you want to feel it?” 

“Do I want to feel it?” Max muses, “Sure.” His arms wrap around your middle so quickly that you don’t realise he’s pulling you into his lap at first. But he positions you with your legs on the either side of his. “You’re right, liefje, it is very soft.” His hands roam on your body over the soft material, but soon enough, his hands dipping underneath it to feel your skin. His eyebrows shoot upwards, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips, “No underwear?” 

“Well, I just came out of the shower, Maxie.” You give him an innocent look, shrugging once against as you rest your hands against his shirt-clad chest. “The shower pressure was great, you should’ve joined me.”  

He lets out a noncommittal hum, his hands roaming on your bare skin, revelling in the softness. “I’ll have to take your word for it.” He’s methodical as he slightly shifts you in his lap, tearing a gasp from the back of your throat. That gets a satisfied smile from him, “Something wrong?” 

“N-no,” you mumble, shifting again to get the same feeling, but his hands still you in your place. “Maxie,” you whine, silently pleading with your eyes.  

“Am I being mean again?” He asks, attentive eyes fixed on you, “I would offer to make it up to you with a kiss, but you seem to find ways to evade me when I do.”  

“No,” you whine again, lips pouted in disagreement. “I promise I won’t this time.”  

His eyebrows shoot up again with amusement, “Oh, yeah? Shall we test that theory, pretty girl?” The smile you give him is shy, but the way you nod is nothing short of coy. With a satisfied sound leaving his lips, he quickly presses his lips against yours. You sigh into the kiss, immediately, when you feel him deepening the kiss, more than happy to surrender yourself to him and let Max take the lead. Though, that doesn’t necessarily stop you from attempting to relieve the pressure between your legs by rolling your hips against his thighs. Your efforts, however, prove to be useless as he stops the movement before you can actually relieve any of it. He slowly pulls away, pushes a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear and tuts – condescendingly, you might add – “Slow down, liefje, I think I’ve had enough speed for one day.”  

Groaning at his words, “But Maxie,” you whine, dragging out his name as you let your hands wander on his chest over his shirt and receive a warning look from him in return, “I promise I’ll be good, please just fuck me.”  

“Baby,” he coos, his fingers working quickly to unfasten the belt of your robe and push the offending clothing off your shoulders, “I literally just told you to be patient, no?” 

You ignore the raised eyebrow, the look of faux-disappointment, and even the way his fingers grab your waist because you’re too busy trying to get him out of his shirt, suddenly feeling too exposed as you sit on his lap naked. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, peppering kisses across the column of his throat as your hands make their way inside his shirt, “I’ll be patient next time.”  

“I’m suddenly realising that I spoil you very much,” Max mumbles, pulling his head back to get a look at you.  

Pulling back as well you give him a mischievous grin, “Maybe, but you’ll give me what I want this time as well.”  

“Yeah?” He asks, “Why?” 

“Because I think I’m getting your pants very messy right now.”  

Max can’t help the groan that escapes past his lips, his eyes quickly following yours as he takes in the ‘damage’ your wetness has caused on his jeans. He takes a moment to assess the damage, drags his eyes up to look at you when he notices the way your eyes stay fixed down, as your nervously bite down on your lower lip. He loses all the composure he managed to muster up, and he finally gives in, quickly pushing you off him onto the pillows on the bed. The squeal that leaves you is followed by a string of giggles that leave your lips, and when Max looks at you, he takes in the darker look in your widened eyes.  

“I was going to be patient; I can’t believe you’re making me not be patient.” He mumbles, taking off his shirt and the rest of his clothes before starting to leave kisses on your feverish skin as he slides down your body and places himself between your thighs.  

You open your legs wider to accommodate his body, a breathy laugh escaping past your lips. “You mean, impatient?” 

That earns you a nip on your upper thigh and a warning look, but instead of commenting on your quip, he lowers his face, keeps his eyes locked to yours and gets to work. And it’s not that you and Max haven’t done stuff – because it’s the opposite; although you haven’t had sex, it’s safe to say that the two you have explored every option bordering on sex. But how he’s acting right now is much different than the way how he is usually with you. His movements are almost rushed, and the way he drags his tongue through your folds is just enough for your eyes to roll back as your moans fill the room.  

Normally, he would be extra careful and make sure he is being gentle with you; but right now, he’s just trying to savour you before he loses all his composure. A choppy gasp leaves you as you feel his fingers enter you – two at first, and the way he pumps them in and out of you makes breathing harder. The speed of his fingers matches his tongue, and for a moment, you think you’re going to pass out. With his free hand, he blocks any type of movement you try with your hips; his palm sneakily presses down on your lower stomach to keep you in your place, but it’s jokes on him because if anything, it just makes you feel even better, and you’re not shy to let him know just how much he’s making you feel good with your moans.  

“Max,” you say his name in a breathy whimper, fingers threading through his hair to guide him, “fuck, I’m so close.” You can practically feel the way his lips curl up, and suddenly, everything about his actions gets faster. His fingers are pistoning in and out of you in an unforgiving pace, in sync with his tongue that works your clit just the same. So, it’s no surprise when you find yourself coming on his tongue as his name leaves your lips for the umpteenth time like a prayer.

The smirk he gives you when he pulls himself from between your legs is sinful – he looks absolutely debauched with the way his lips glisten with your release, and he wastes no time before coming up, and capturing your lips in yet another bruising kiss. But this time, you taste yourself on his tongue and this time it makes you lose the whatever little resolve you’ve had left. So, you hook your leg around his thigh to push him next to you on the bed as you practically throw him next to you on the bed.  

Though he has other plans.   Of course.  

So, as you’re trying to fight the seventy-kilogram-something driver into staying under you on the bed, he has no problem manhandling you into rolling on your side. And as you’re pressed flush against his chest, you turn your head backwards to breathlessly whisper, “You promised, Max.”  

“And I am a man of my word, aren’t I?” He retorts, his hand that is splayed on your thigh positions it so that it’s bent towards your stomach, “Just needed to get you ready.” You can’t help the guttural moan that escapes you when you feel him pressing the tip of his cock into your entrance. The pleading look you give him must’ve worked, because this time it’s his turn to let out a guttural moan as he pushes himself into you. There is no sign of his mood from mere moments ago as you feel his hands caress your bare hip, an entitled smirk on his lips as he asks, “Out of breath?” 

“Fuck you,” your response comes out as a breathy laugh as you’re pushing your hips closer to his to take him deeper.  

“Lifje, you are fucking me.” Max giggles into the crook of your neck as he pushes himself in fully. You would be furious with him if it didn’t make you laugh also, and although the laughing decrease, the smiles remain on both your faces as he starts slowly moving his hips. 

It’s sweet, unbelievably sweet, considering the sexual tension that was in the room an hour ago, but the way Max is fucking you can only be described as sweet. His hands caress every part of your body that he can reach – your thighs, to your hips, to your stomach, to your chest and then wraps one of his hands around your throat; not in a way that is rough, but in a way that he can still keep you still as he captures your lips for another kiss. The movement of his hips is languid, almost lazy as drive into you, but he still manages to hit all the spots along the way. Breathy chuckles are exchanged when he pulls away for you to organise your breathing, but your smiles still stay on, even when he raises your bent leg and rests his on his own leg. The new angle makes your moans get louder, your hips to move against his faster, and you can feel your orgasm approach speedily.  

But Max is so in tune with your body that he knows what’s coming (or rather who) before you get a chance to actually have to say anything. His hand slides down your body so that he can press his fingers to your clit and move them in tight circles, and as if it was possible, his you can suddenly feel him fucking you even deeper. “You are going to come for me pretty girl, I can feel it.” He murmurs into your skin, and all you can offer as an answer is a nod and an affirmative whimper as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, give it to me, come on my cock.” And though he is not the most verbal person to ever exist, except for when he’s in the mood to be an absolute yapper, his words urge you to let go of the feeling that has been starting to brew in your stomach.  

Your hips start moving to meet his in choppy movements as you seek any and all kinds of pleasure to reach your high, and he meets your every move with increasing intensity of his own. “Max, yes!” Your exclamation hits his ears as he hits that one particular spot, making you instantly become lax in his arms as he guides you through your orgasm. His name spills out from your lips in constant repetition, “So good, so good,” you keep mumbling in breathless whimpers, trying to press yourself further into his body.  

With all things considered, it doesn’t take Max long to reach his own high following your own, since you insistently move your hips in a way that makes you take his cock even deeper when he’s helping you ride your orgasm. So, when you hear him groaning your name in the crook of your neck and feel him spilling himself into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he croaks out, holding your hips in place with his hands splayed on your feverish skin. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 

“How am I supposed to know, dummy?” You ask, throwing your head back to get a good look of his dishevelled state, “Why do you look so good after mind blowing sex?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, pulling you with him as he lets himself fall back on the bed, “genetics?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to find a comfortable position on his chest as he is still inside you, “remind me to send your mother a flower arrangement when we get back, or something.” 

A deep blush covers his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been fucking you for the past hour or so, as he stammers, “I– I mean, yeah.” This time, it’s your turn to give a non-committal hum, followed by a satisfied sigh as you snuggle him closer and close your eyes. “Just go to sleep, baby, we can deal with it in the morning.” 

“’Mkay,” you mumble, feeling his hand draw soothing circles on your back. “But you’re still gonna fuck me tomorrow, right?” 

This gets another loud laugh from the driver laying down under you, and both of you know that he’s going to do just that when you wake up in the morning. 

[imyourbratzdoll]

I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.

hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.

summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.

warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 

You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.

“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)

“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.

“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.

“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”

Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 

It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 

“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 

He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 

You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 

“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”

“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 

Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?

A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 

He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.

“Do you mean…?!”

Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[n0tamused]

HSR/Genshin Characters as Dragons

A/n: guys this series is getting out of hand I think I need to end it (jokes on you I will never stop talking about dragons). I really hope you are all enjoying this as much as I am <3

Contents: Argenti, Boothill, Dottore as dragons, x reader, gn reader, angst, fluff

Ko-fi

Argenti:

-Another pretty dragon to the list, and one amongst the kinder ones out there. A gentle giant by heart, he seeks to protect all beauty and innocence in the universe

-His kind is generally perceived as greedy and hostile, but for all negative traits his species has, he makes up for them tenfold.

-He tiptoes around young ones and anyone too small or too slow, he carries them if need be without being prompted to. Elderly and the kids have grown to love his presence and assistance, however scarce it may be since he comes and goes like the wind, chasing whatever enemy he spotted. Sometimes he can be overbearing with how eager he is to help, be it in human or dragon form

-He doesn’t shy away from his dragon form whatsoever, and since it is made for battle he uses its advantages against his enemies. His scales are quite tough and not many things can pierce him, and the horn in the middle of his forehead acts like a spear. One swing of his head is usually all it takes to take down his opponent

-Even covered in blood and grime after a battle or trial, he still holds a certain air of regality and elegance as he walks down the path to civilization where he goes to get cleaned (idk but I keep imagining a specific image. It's Argenti with blood on his center horn and looking sort of unbothered or innocent. Like those images of unicorns with blood on their horns yk?)

-His spikes are reminiscent of rose thorns, and very sharp.

-While he appreciates all the praise, he doesn’t consider himself worthy of it, and while he does love all the kids running to him - he does prefer that they don’t touch him for the same reason. He is not worthy of it, he is a knight of beauty but he is tainted, and he doesn’t want to taint the little young souls.

-It took some time until he let you come close to his form, and for a little he did feel overwhelmingly guilty. He always carries a sense of guilt and incompetence, he got used to that taste in his mouth

-He would jump into any battle honestly, and especially if it involves you. He grew to care about you a bit too much

-He spends much more time in human form around you, when battle is done and over with he would go to you after getting cleaned and tidied up, wishing to know and hear again that you are alright. And while you talk he always wonders if you were blessed by Idrila themselves, or perhaps you were set on his path by the Goddess of Beauty for him to meet? If this was another trial, he felt like he was failing - and failure never tasted better.

-He prays he doesn’t lose you. He does love to sing you praises whenever he can, and if he is passing by in his dragon form he lets out a little purr/soft chirp.

-Argenti often visits later at night, a rose in hand yet to bloom fully. And by morning, the petals unroll to reveal the deep red bloom, but by then he is long gone, and the conversation is but a memory to you both

Boothill:

-Boothill is a feral dragon, a hostile one and is to be avoided at all costs - many posters around towns say so, and if there is a rumble through the ground you can be sure there are people herding others into the closest building.

-He is nothing to scoff at. If he was a fierce dragon before, the metal, indestructible body didn’t make him any less soft. The IPC certainly had their ‘fun’ with creating him as he is now. They had attempted to put wings on him but the new body was already too heavy, so that idea was scrapped. Boothill did have wings in his previous body, his own wings that took him high above the ground and over lakes and sandy dunes, but now he will never fly again. 

-Nor will he be human anymore. He had died in his dragon form, and the power which allowed him to go between human and beast had died along with his past life. He’s not sure what’s worse - being half machine, marked by anguish and anger, or not being able to see the world from the lenses of a human, from a 6ft height and not 20 or so feet higher than that. 

-He was confined to the ground. But as soon as he had made his escape from the IPC’s clutches, he was gone for good.

-He had done it himself and removed the chips that marked his location and destroyed pieces of him that would have revealed him, and he made use of the ground he knew too well, better than them anyway.

-Somewhere along the lines, he joined the Galaxy Rangers and they patched him up, gave him whatever missing pieces he needed and he found his place among them.

-It took a long, long time for him to somewhat settle in his new body, the phantom pains and limbs never went away though.

-Now, though, whenever he arrives at a new planet he doesn’t take up too much space or makes himself known, he prefers the life of solitude and his own solo missions

-Sometimes someone may bump into him, but they’re never harmed unless they’re a part of the IPC. He has developed quite the keen senses for them.

-However you wormed your way into his, now, mechanical heart, I congratulate you. Seeing how physically impossible it can be to reach him

-But Boothill is quite chill once you get into a talk with him, and although sometimes he can get lost in the talk he does try to keep his voice down to a lower volume so he doesn’t hurt your ears. He’d lay down after lighting a small fire for you, his eye closer to where he can see you “normally” - and not from somewhere in the clouds. And from there on you two would talk and exchange stories. If you happen to be another dragon he’d be more at ease, and more at home too since he doesn’t have to tip toe as much around you or around certain subjects

-If you happen to be another dragon he does love to lock horns from time to time and wrestle a little like that, it gives his real skin some stimulation and something to feel. It may not be a fair battle as he is mechanical, but he tries to make it fair by letting a few screws loose- he doesn’t tell you that though.

-Speaking of that, he did once have his wrist nearly fall off due to this, he was trying to get some more ground to push himself off and the screw just popped out and he slipped, crashing into the ground as if he forgot how to walk

-Regardless if you are just a human or if you can take a form of  dragon, you have earned yourself the scary dog privilege (a dog that is secretly real nice and soft when you are around)

-also side note but in the art I did forget to draw the "thumb" on his hind right leg, apologies but yeah he'd have 5 fingers on all his limbs

Dottore:

-DOTTTORRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE

-Anyway.

-He wasn’t well loved by his surroundings in the place he originally hails from and he was exiled by his own kin, being chased to the edges of his region to be left to the elements - wherever that may be at this point because all records give different answers, and no one who has gone after him has returned alive.

-The hunger for knowledge grew from day to day, he had grown quite obsessive with getting the results he wanted. At this time he wasn’t exactly small, so he’d use the size of his dragon to his advantage as well, be it to frighten someone or to amaze another. It didn’t matter, as long as he got what he wanted. He doesn’t know anything else but the acts of setting a hypothesis and proving it true, or wrong, or finding another result equally as good. Nothing pleased him more than to succeed.

-His original body was paler than the one he has now, and while that could be blamed on growing up, it can also easily be said that it was a result of his experiments, and perhaps this form is just one of his many clones. Who’s to say he doesn’t have a pale blue dragon spying somewhere else while this black beast stalks around the Akademiya?

-His wings have three appendages on them which allow for easy manipulation of items or opponents, so he doesn’t often see the need to revert back and forth between forms unless something is delicate and requires that human touch.

-He is calculating and a mastermind behind many inventions, both mechanical and medicinal based. He can easily cure many ailments or fix up complex pieces of machinery that have long since been lost to histories. He has invented his own too, the clones are the biggest proof and only a small glimpse of what he is capable of. 

-The Omega Build can be said to be the closest to what he looks like in truth, but in terms of personality they can differ a bit. Omega is much more selfish and prone to using charm that the Prime wouldn’t really strive to use.

-Dottore does have the size and strength and all the power he could need to take down anyone, and while he may not be the biggest dragon you should be smarter than to think he can fall easily in battle. He has the power that can match that of an Archon - you really think he would be defeated to someone lesser than that?

-Underneath that mask you may find either his red eyes and scarred face, or an open part of his body that reveals the metal underneath and the red star that act as his eyes.

-He can walk bipedally and quadrupedally. 

-Another thing he is quite proficient at is mimicking sounds, and with that he lured people in. Some papers, implied to be him and some other Akademiya student, talk about how the young female student was lured away by sounds into a cavern, where she was promptly ripped apart. This death was blamed on the starving tigers found in the area, but Dottore knows the real story behind that attack.

-He is quite a good looking dragon, but can easily make your blood run cold with a simple flash of his sharp teeth. 

-You want one of his feathers, you say? Sure, you may have one, he’ll pluck it out himself and hand it to you. But don’t think it will come free.

Size chart:

- Argenti is actually a smaller dragon for his kind

-Had a bit of a difficult time sizing these boys up, but shh

-Dottore was smaller before, but after he began to make clones and also modify himself he grew more as a result of all those experiments (but is this the 'original'? Hmmm)

-Boothill once looked a bit disproportionate in the first mechanical body he had, since the IPC got wrong measurements, or perhaps it was on purpose as an act of some humiliation to break his spirits, along with making him crawl around without limbs as "punishment" (ah yes, I love Boothill lore)

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @moonlitreveri3 @lexidraws2 @drowning-in-cabbages @creationsabyss @grimulf-of-the-wilderness @st4rrl1ghtwastaken @the-inquisitive-constellation @voiddance @the-bilkush @fictionally-attached

[azrielbrainrot]

I'll Be Here

Pairing: Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue.

Word Count: 3605

Warnings: None

Notes: I had this stuck in my head and decided to just write it down. I'm not really a writer so bear with me please. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Masterlist

It's hard to keep an eye on how much wine you drink when the glasses get refilled magically. You've heard that this house has a consciousness of its own. Maybe it can sense your growing anxiety and keeps filling your glass in hopes of helping ease your mind a little. The more you drink the more worried you get, the thought that getting too drunk will only put you at a higher risk of embarrassing yourself having infiltrated your brain and pushed all the rational thoughts out. Big gatherings aren't exactly your cup of tea and the fact that this one was personally hosted by your High Lord didn't exactly help ease your nerves.

You've visited the House of Wind before but always as a part of your duties. Though it was because of your duties you were invited to this dinner so maybe you could add this attendance as part of your job. The High Lord and High Lady decided to invite notable people in Velaris for a night of celebrating the thriving city. After losing its High Lord for decades and the war that followed his release, Velaris went through some tough times but with the help of its people - most of them gathered in this space tonight - the city was once again prospering.

As a healer you usually see the High Lord and his Inner Circle in a state of emergency, when your abilities are needed and there's usually no time for formalities or worries. Every time you encounter them outside of those situations you never know what to make of yourself. You wouldn't say you're completely inept at social situations but you're definitely a lot better at handling them when they involve your patients and you have a job to do, something more important to focus on than choosing the right thing to say.

Your relationship with the Inner Circle is professional albeit friendly. It's hard not to feel your heart warming at the cupcakes the General insisted on buying you for helping heal his wings even after explaining that you actually only helped on his recovery process. Every time he drops by the clinic to pick up any herbs or ointments he insists on buying you one - though you suspect it's also an excuse to get one for himself - and when you see him out and about he demonstrates how healthy his wings are, having done it just before dinner when he was in charge of flying you up to the house. The painting the High Lady personally painted for you, as an acknowledgement of your efforts during the war, hangs right behind your desk in your office at the clinic and is one of your most important possessions.

This would be the kind of relationship anyone would kill to have with their employees - friendly acquaintances. But, since you were there for some of their most intimate moments and helped them through them, you never know how to act when you're not doing your job. You can't exactly call them your friends, even putting the fact that is your High Lord and High Lady aside, outside of work you only exchange some pleasantries whenever you bump into them. However there's too much knowledge for you to act completely professional after decades of nursing them and their family back to health. It feels awkward to shake their hands when they have hugged you with tears in their eyes, thanking you for saving their family.

There's also the tiny detail of the crush you've harbored on the resident shadowsinger ever since you first laid eyes on him. On top of trying to walk the line between friends and strangers with everyone else, you also have to be careful with not letting the observant Spymaster find out about the beat your heart skips when you see him. Making things awkward because of a silly crush is the last thing you need.

It's that reminder and the monumental effort you have to make not to let your eyes search for him that has you finally sneaking out of the room, deciding to find a quiet place to sober up. The House had fed you too much wine, and you still had to be flown back down at the end of the night. You'd really hate to throw up on Cassian's fancy suit. He probably wouldn't buy you cupcakes ever again.

You remember some of your surroundings after decades of being called in for emergencies, quickly finding one of the huge balconies overlooking the city. The fresh air grounds you almost immediately. You can still hear the muffled sounds of the ongoing party but the quietness of the mountain lets you get lost in thought. As much as you enjoy the liveliness of the nightlife in Velaris, you infinitely prefer the quietness and freedom only the woods or mountains at night can provide. When it's only you, the moon and the stars, and the world stops.

You don't know how long you sit there for, leaning on the railing and looking into the distance, wondering why your healing abilities work on some forms of poison but not on sobering you up. Your head only comes back to earth when you hear a familiar voice calling out your name behind you. You turn around fast enough to make you a bit dizzy, leaning back against the railing with wide eyes.

“Didn't mean to scare you,” the shadowsinger explained, “I just noticed you were gone from the room.” You spot the way he's bringing his wings closer to his body, making himself smaller, if that were even possible. Azriel made you feel a lot of things but you hadn't felt scared of him in decades, ever since the first time you met him. If you hadn't been already tipsy and distracted thinking about him you wouldn't have reacted so dramatically.

Realizing the spymaster of this court had just found you wandering around his house unattended, you rush to apologize and give him an explanation.

“I'm sorry. I needed some fresh air and remembered there was a balcony around here. I shouldn't have left the party without permission.” You make to move back, showing you were ready to go back to the party but he raises a hand and takes a step closer to you, stopping you before you can.

“You're not a stranger to this house. No need for permission,” he took another tentative step towards you before continuing, “Do you feel better now?” You relax back against the railing, your heart beating fast for a whole different reason now. It's not often you get to see Azriel out of his leathers and you barely had a chance to see him up close tonight, he looks mesmerizing.

“What?” Maybe you didn't sober up as much as you thought. Maybe being this close to Azriel was just an intoxicating experience in itself. Either way your brain was having a hard time catching up to his words and your chest was starting to feel warm.

“You said you needed some fresh air.” There's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. Probably realizing that you weren't actually going to be sick. His shadows peak behind his shoulders, following their master as they usually do.

“Yes. It was just getting a bit stuffy in there.” Aside from the butterflies creating a hurricane in your stomach, talking to Azriel feels right. His calm demeanor lets your thoughts quiet. “I might have drank too much because of the nerves.”

The Shadowsinger moves until he's leaning against the railing next to you. His eyes wander the illuminated city slowly before meeting yours. Stretched wings hang in what you assume is a less straining position after having to be pulled tighter into his body in the crowded room. Shadows start rolling off his shoulders, now lazing around him instead of covering him. The soft wind moves his hair ever so slightly, letting a few strands curl around his forehead and giving him an almost boyish look. It's not often you see the spymaster appear relaxed. You decide it might be your favorite look on him.

“Nerves?” Your eyes search his face once again after hearing the confusion in his voice. Azriel has a permanent seat at the High Lord's table not only as the Night Court's Spymaster but also as someone Rhysand considers family. This night isn't so different from every other dinner he shares with his family, just more crowded.

“I've never been to this house outside of my duties. It's a bit nerve-wracking to be personally invited by the High Lord.” As you finish speaking one of his shadows curls around his ear. You've learned they do this when they're speaking to him. The thought of it being about you has your heart speeding up. Only the Mother knows just how much those shadows can see and hear, if they can hear your thoughts. You check your mental shields just in case. They can be as terrifying as they are beautiful.

“Rhys and Feyre couldn't have thrown a party celebrating the strength and courage the people of Velaris have shown without one of our best healers. You've helped more people than we could ever thank you for.” The warmth you felt in your chest before was now spreading up your neck at an alarming rate. You had just been doing your job but being recognized for it felt incredibly rewarding. The fact that this praise came from the shadowsinger was making you especially giddy. “Rhys invited you because you're very important to this court, to us.”

“I am?” The question comes out before your brain has a chance to catch up. You try not to cringe at the surprise in your tone. It's not that you're not aware of your capabilities, the High Lord and High Lady either call for you or for Madja, one of the most powerful and wise healers you have ever seen. But old insecurities will always show their claws, indifferent to your achievements. To think that you could be important to all these extremely powerful people seemed like the punchline to a joke.

“Of course.” His body turns to you ever so slightly. Fingers uncurl as if he wanted to reach out, comfort you. “None of us would be here in good health if it wasn't for you, maybe not at all. You've helped us more times than I can count.”

“I was just doing my job. And I can't take credit for Madja, I'm usually just assisting her.”

“Even so, you've helped us through a lot.” He sounded very sincere, there was no denying he meant every word, but you still have a hard time believing it.

“I just don't think I really fit in here,” you whispered so low that if it wasn't for his fae hearing he wouldn't have been able to make out the words. The admission felt heavy in the air, it felt good to let it out. You hadn't been this honest with anyone, perhaps even yourself, in decades, you must have drank way more wine than you initially thought.

You weren't born in Velaris, but you've lived here for a century. The problem is you've spent the better part of that century waiting on feeling like you finally belonged. You never felt at home in your own court or in your family so it might have been wishful thinking that it would happen here.

“I think like that sometimes too.” As baffled as you were to hear that coming from him, he looked even more surprised than you. It seems he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but the words couldn't be taken back now.

“That's insane,” you try to level your voice after the outburst, "You're part of this family. Why wouldn't you fit in?” You couldn't let him think like that, there was no doubt in your mind everyone here loved and cherished him like family.

Rhysand's inner circle was known for how close they were, they were seen as the High Lord's family regardless of if they were blood related or not. Azriel has always been calmer and you know he likes to keep to himself but you never thought he looked out of place for a second. It's hard to imagine Rhysand and Cassian without his brother.

His eyes were trained on the city under you. His shadows had come back to him, almost covering him completely. Azriel was quiet for a while, long enough you thought he wouldn't even give you an answer. But then you feel a shield form around you, lest someone wanders in and hears his next words.

“Sometimes things and people change while you stay stuck in the same place,” his eyes meet yours as he talks and you search his expression for the rest of the story you know he won't tell. If there's one thing you hate about the shadowsinger is his ability to mask his emotions. His face was the perfect stoic mask as always.

It's not hard to understand what he meant. In less than a decade the inner circle almost doubled and some of the dynamics had likely changed with it. His brothers have found their mates, something every fae dreams of, and he was the odd one out. Even the Morrigan and Amren had found lovers in recent years.

You had heard some rumors he had taken a liking to the middle Archeron sister after pining for the lovely Morrigan for centuries, but she had also found her mate. Not even his methods of interrogation could make you admit you were avoiding the entire inner circle during that time. The hope you had felt upon realizing he wasn't looking at Morrigan like she hung all the stars in the sky was short lived and it only made you feel pathetic. You didn't understand why it had affected you so much. This was just a silly crush after all, you had never considered actually pursuing a relationship with the shadowsinger.

“I still don't understand how Amren got a lover before you.” You had meant to clear the heavy air between you but why your brain decided to use the millennia old creature to do so was beyond you. “I mean she's just…” you continue, startled by your own words, praying to the Mother that the shield he put up stopped Amren from hearing you, “Well, she's fae now but wasn't before and is still mildly terrifying, even after the transition, and you're so-” Wide eyes meet hazel and nothing could ever prepare you for the look on his face. The amusement shone bright in his eyes and in the teasing grin he wore. Just when you thought the shadowsinger couldn't get any more beautiful.

“I'm so?” He tilts his head a little as he asks the question. His shadows start almost dancing around him, like they can't wait to hear your thoughts on their singer. You clear your throat before continuing, trying to salvage some of your dignity.

“You're the Spymaster, the only known Shadowsinger. That's incredible, anyone would be lucky to have you.” Something flashes in his eyes and your mouth starts back up at the thought that it could be disappointment at the impersonal description. Azriel is much more than his role in this court and you can't let him think that's all you see in him.

“You're also one of the kindest people I've ever met. I've seen you worry over every single person in that room, putting their needs over your own even when you're also injured. You always keep your composure for them and give them your support. I've seen you around Velaris too, you're always respectful to everyone, even when they're a bit scared of you.” Eyes drag themselves back to the shiny stars in the night so you can keep going without wanting to jump off the balcony and making an even bigger fool of yourself. “Even as far as looks go... I would bet my house that if we walked down any of these streets we wouldn't find anyone that doesn't think you're stupidly handsome.”

“Stupidly handsome?” The amusement was dripping down his voice at this point. The smile was unmistakable in his tone and you couldn't hold yourself back from watching him any longer. You feel yourself relax at the grin plastered on his face. It isn't often that the shadowsinger shows any emotion at all, and you can't help the pride in knowing you put that gorgeous smile on his face, especially after the somber turn the conversation had taken earlier. You continue despite the warmth you feel in your ears, you'd compliment him for hours if it meant he wouldn't feel sad ever again.

“I've actually heard someone use those exact words to describe you.” You've thought it to be the most accurate description of the immense beauty the shadowsinger radiates ever since you heard the barista use it. Apparently she hadn't been born in Velaris and had taken up the job only a few days prior to serving the illyrian. She had barely held the compliment down long enough for Azriel to exit the building, shooting up into the sky. A few fae present couldn't contain the laugh at the fervent appreciation of the shadowsinger, but the air of agreement shared by everyone was unmistakable.

“I'll have to let my mom know,” there was laughter in his tone, “I'm sure she will be very proud that her son is receiving such compliments.” You hadn't known his mother was still alive which makes you think it's meant to be kept secret. You almost curse at the way your heart flutters. Stupid crushes.

“I'm sure she is very proud of you regardless.” He doesn't give away any hint of what might be going through his brain and it leaves you in a slight panicked fear of overstepping or having said the wrong thing. You could swear you saw a glint of disbelief but it was gone too fast for you to be sure. The idea that the Spymaster couldn't see his own mother being proud of him was ludicrous to you.

The nod he gives you doesn't give any of his thoughts away, but his shadows keep moving slowly around the balcony, never rushing to cover him.

“Why are you single then?” You know he's changing the subject but you don't have time to consider that when you realize it's your turn to answer the questions.

“Me?” You barely register the slight nod he gives to show you he's expecting an answer. If you had shadows of your own they would have wrapped around you like a blanket until only the top of your hair was peaking out. “How do you know I am? Are you using your spies on me, Spymaster?”

“I have to be well informed of what happens in this city,” he searches your face just like you did to him, “And as the spymaster I'm more than familiar with deflection. You don't have to answer my question. Tell me if I'm overstepping”

“No. It's-” you cringe, trying to find the right words. “I just never found anyone special I guess.” Even talking about this with him has your heart swelling in your chest and you pray to the mother he can't pick up on any changes in your heartbeat. You've been avoiding this conversation with family and friends, but despite all this you know Azriel will understand and won't make fun of your feelings. It feels safe talking to him. “I get really busy sometimes so it's hard to keep up a proper relationship, even with friendships. Sometimes people need more time than what I can give them.” You try not to think of all the times you didn't measure up to other people's expectations, when they didn't see you as enough for the trouble.

“They're idiots for letting you go.” You don't know if he's being polite in not mentioning how your heart keeps speeding up or if he thinks you're drunker than you are, but you thank every deity you can think of that he doesn't say anything.

“Some things just aren't meant to be.” You hope he doesn't insist on this conversation. There isn't much else to say and you'd rather not keep talking about how many times you'd gotten dumped. You consider pointing out he never gave you a reason for being single and that he was the one actually deflecting, but you don't want to push what clearly isn't an easy topic for him to discuss either. You suspect Azriel barely opens up with anyone, so you'll just treasure the brief look into his heart he allowed you before.

The rest of your night is spent with the shadowsinger, sitting in that balcony, watching the stars and talking about anything. The next day you'll sit in bed mortified, thinking about how you were doing most of the talking while he listened, but he had seemed content enough so you couldn't have been too annoying. When the party ended you had said your goodbyes to your hosts, without the previous nerves after your conversation with the shadowsinger. Feyre had even asked you if you were alright because she also noticed you leaving in the middle of the party, though something about the glint in her eyes told you she had gotten the wrong idea. Then Azriel had flown you down the steps and winnowed you to your front door - even though you could do it yourself. Maybe you'd have to rethink calling the inner circle your friends.

[marshiewritesfics]

hey so how do you think Jason Todd, Tim and Dick would deal with having a s/o who’s naturally good at making other people laugh. They aren’t even trying.. And normally s/o just smiles fondly at their bf when he makes a funny. S/o Is difficult to make laugh themselves. But what the boys do when they actually get s/o to laugh with Tim/Jason/Dick’s sassy/sarcastic/cheeky/dark joke conversation with someone else in the room. And s/o snorts and it starts out as a little giggle hand to mouth and then they just lose it. Tears, need to sit down, can’t breathe after 5 minutes. They stop and they think the laughters done, but no, s/o ends up giggling their ass off for the rest of the day. (Basically they don’t laugh often, but once you manage to set them off, they can’t shut up at all)?

The Batboys with a S/O that enjoys making people laugh

A/N - Thank you so much for the ask, @nesting-dreams ! I had fun writing these headcanons and I hope you enjoy!

JASON TODD-

- there’s always some sort of playful banter between you too

- he loves seeing you laugh and can recognize your laugh from a mile away

- you always tease him about his brooding nature and he tries to act tough but ends up laughing alongside you

- this leads to you both sneaking out late at night for ice cream runs or playing pranks on each other

- you help him see the brighter side of life and Jason is happily along for the ride

DICK GRAYSON-

- being a giggly significant other for Dick has its perks

- being with him always leaves you constantly laughing and feeling like you can never stop smiling

- you definitely keep him on his toes with your humor

- you love to pull little pranks on him and the batboys

- the two of you end up laughing and telling jokes to each other after a late night mission

- this helps to lighten up the mood a bit

- constant playful banter that helps you to both have the best laughter filled relationship

- you wouldn’t have it any other way

TIM DRAKE-

- being full of laughter as a significant other to Tim is his match made in heaven

- you help him bring out his lighter side

- you have late night laugh fests together while he’s working on some new tech

- when he’s lost in thought you try to make him laugh to lighten up the mood

- your relationship would be full of happiness and tons of laughter that fills up every room that you enter

- Tim loves that about you and it’s one of the reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place

[creatur3featur3]

Who's there?

word count: 3.1k

A/N: maybe I went into too much detail with reader being blind but whatever! not very proud of this but i promised it so, i hope yall enjoy it!

The Undercity had never been kind to anyone, and it certainly wasn’t kind to you.

You had no memory of what it felt like to be loved, not since the day your family decided you weren’t worth the burden. When they pushed you down into this hell, it was as though they had erased your existence.

You were only eight when it happened. A boiling pot of oil tipped over in the kitchen during one of your father’s drunken fits. The pain was unimaginable, searing through your skin and leaving your eyes useless. You screamed, begged for help, but all you got was silence.

By the time the burns healed—if you could call it healing—the damage was done. The scars remained as an ever-present reminder of what you’d lost. Your vision was gone, leaving you in complete darkness. That’s when your parents decided you weren’t worth keeping.

"She's blind. What use could she be to us now?"

That was all it took for them to throw you out. No goodbyes, no second thoughts—just the sound of the hatch to the Undercity slamming shut behind you.

Now, years later, you had carved out a life for yourself in the shadows of the Undercity. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. You navigated the dark alleys and crooked streets with an almost uncanny precision, relying on touch, sound, and scent to guide you. Your other senses had sharpened over time, adapting to fill the void your sight had left behind.

Still, survival was brutal. People didn’t care about your blindness—they saw weakness and an easy target. You’d learned quickly how to defend yourself, whether it was with a blade, a sharp tongue, or sheer stubbornness.

That’s how Sevika found you.

It wasn’t a grand meeting. In fact, you’d bumped into her—literally. You hadn’t heard her coming, distracted by the clamor of a nearby fight. When you stumbled back, muttering apologies, she had been surprisingly calm.

For someone who usually brushed off others like they were dust, Sevika hadn’t treated you like you were fragile. She hadn’t laughed at your blindness or tried to offer you pity. Instead, she’d just said, “You walk like you own the place. I respect that.”

That moment changed everything.

It was strange for others to witness Sevika, the notorious enforcer, laughing or even smiling in someone else’s company. You? You were an enigma to them—a blind girl who somehow got under Sevika’s tough exterior like it was nothing. People whispered about it in the bars, sharing hushed disbelief as they saw her sit with you, her usual scowl softened into something unreadable.

You didn’t have to see her face to know the way her demeanor changed when you were around. It was in the way her voice lost its sharp edge, or how her movements were less calculated, less guarded. You had this way of bringing something out of her that no one else could.

Sevika would never admit it out loud, but she liked having you around. You were blunt in the way you spoke to her, never tiptoeing around her reputation or treating her like some fearsome villain. You joked with her like you’d known her for years, teasing her when she got too grumpy or quiet. And somehow, she never snapped at you for it.

“You really do have a stick up your ass sometimes,” you teased one evening as you sat beside her in her usual corner of the Last Drop. You tilted your head, listening to the sounds of people shuffling past, drinks clinking, and cards being shuffled on nearby tables.

Sevika snorted, her metal arm resting on the back of your chair. “You’re one to talk. You nag me more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Someone has to,” you retorted, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Otherwise, you’d go full brooding anti-hero on me.”

A chuckle escaped her, low and warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” you shot back without missing a beat.

And that was the thing—she did.

She liked how you didn’t care about her scars or her reputation, how you called her out when no one else dared to. You didn’t treat her with fear or reverence, and that was rare. It was refreshing.

People often asked her why she kept you around, why she let you talk to her the way you did. Sevika never had an answer that didn’t sound too soft for her own liking. Maybe it was your unwavering resilience. Maybe it was the way you stood your ground despite everything life had thrown at you.

Or maybe, it was just you.

The sound of a glass gently clinking onto the wood in front of you drew your attention, and you tilted your head toward Sevika, raising a brow even though you couldn’t see her expression.

“That’s your fifth one tonight,” you said, your voice laced with mock disapproval.

Sevika chuckled low, the sound rumbling in her chest. “And? You keeping count now?”

“Someone has to,” you shot back, leaning back in your seat with a smirk. “You keep this up, and I’m gonna have to drag your drunk ass home.”

“That’ll be the day,” she retorted, a hint of amusement in her tone. “I think I can handle myself.”

“You say that, but I’m the one who hears you stumble around the apartment,” you quipped, crossing your arms.

Sevika let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You’ve got some nerve for someone who couldn’t even make it up the fire escape on their own a few months ago.”

“Hey, I’ve got plenty of nerve. It’s my best quality,” you replied with a grin, unfazed by her jab. “But seriously, don’t make me cut you off. I will.”

Sevika’s smirk softened into something almost fond as she glanced over at you. “You’re lucky I don’t mind your backtalk.”

“Lucky? Nah, you love it,” you teased, earning another laugh from her as she picked up the glass again.

“So, what’s tomorrow look like?” you asked, breaking the brief silence between you and Sevika. You rubbed your fingertips against the rough surface of the wooden countertop, focusing on the texture rather than her reaction. “I heard Silco’s got a big shipment coming in. And Jinx—well, she’s definitely keeping him busy…”

Sevika grunted, swirling what was left of her drink before downing it in one go. “Yeah, that kid’s a handful. Keeps things… interesting.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it. Bet you’re glad she’s keeping him too busy to breathe down your neck.”

Sevika leaned back in her chair, her metal arm resting heavily on the bar. “It’s a nice change of pace,” she admitted. “But shipments like this? They’re always trouble. More eyes watching, more people trying to make a move. You know how it is.”

“Mm,” you hummed in agreement, your fingers still idly tracing the grooves in the wood. “Let me guess: you’re on babysitting duty again? Keeping the riffraff in line?”

Sevika smirked faintly, her sharp eyes glinting in the dim barlight. “Something like that. You volunteering to help out?”

You snorted, tilting your head toward her. “Me? You think I’d survive five minutes in the middle of one of Silco’s operations?”

She gave a short laugh. “You’ve got more guts than half the people I work with. You’d probably be fine. Besides…” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to make it feel more personal. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly covered it with a teasing grin. “Careful, Sevika. Almost sounded like you care.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she shot back, though the softness in her tone betrayed her.

"Already am," you hummed back, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you leaned a little closer to her side of the bar.

Sevika raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, the corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly.

"But seriously," you continued, letting your fingers drum lightly on the wood, "I don’t have much use out there. I’d just get in the way. I don’t know that area like I know the city. You know how it is."

Sevika nodded, her gaze drifting to her empty glass for a moment before returning to you. “Yeah, I know. It’s not exactly the place for… someone like you.”

You tilted your head, curious at the subtle weight in her voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked, pouring herself another drink. “It means you’d probably charm the wrong people and end up in more trouble than you bargained for.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Sounds about right. Guess I’ll leave the heavy lifting to you, then.”

“Smart choice,” Sevika muttered, taking a sip. After a pause, she added, “You’re not useless, though. Don’t talk like that.”

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at her, unsure how to respond.

“I’m just saying,” Sevika said, her tone gruff but her eyes softer than usual. “You’ve got your own kind of strengths. And… they’re not nothing.”

The sincerity in her voice sent a warm feeling through your chest. You smiled, even though you knew she couldn’t see it. “Thanks, Sev. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

"And here we go," Sevika sighed, setting her glass down with a lazy smile pulling at her lips, already bracing herself for what was coming.

You leaned forward, chin resting in your palm as you grinned in her direction. “Oh, Sevika,” you cooed dramatically, dragging out her name, “are you finally admitting you’ve got a soft spot for me? This is a monumental occasion!”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. “Don’t push it, kid.”

“Kid?” you gasped, feigning offense. “Is that how you talk to someone you just called not useless? You’re practically doting on me at this point.”

Sevika chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. “I’m not doting.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” you teased, voice dripping with mock sincerity. “You’re just giving me compliments, looking out for me, and keeping me out of trouble. But doting? Never!”

“You’re unbelievable,” Sevika muttered, but there was no hiding the warmth in her tone.

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, grinning. “Can’t seem to get enough of me, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving you off. “You keep telling yourself that.”

You could hear the smirk in her voice, and it made your grin grow wider. “Oh, I will, Sev. I will.”

————————————————————————

You had your own way of getting around the city, sure you couldn't see like everyone else but that gave you an advantage, all your other senses.

Sure you couldn't use your eyes but you could still see, per say.

Think of it like a bat, they use echolocation, you use the same thing- just without the chirps and whatever sounds they make…

Vibrations.

Every step, every sound, every tiny shift in the air painted a map in your mind. You could feel the hum of a generator two streets over, the rattle of loose metal under someone’s boots, the faint tapping of a rat scurrying into a hole.

The city spoke to you, and you listened.

Where others might stumble in the dark, you moved with confidence. You could feel the vibrations of footsteps approaching before anyone turned a corner. The uneven rhythms of dripping water or loose panels were like markers, telling you exactly where you were.

It wasn’t perfect—sometimes you still bumped into things or missed a step—but it was enough to get by. Enough to survive.

And in the Undercity, survival was half the battle.

You’d been making your way through the back alleys, the vibrations beneath your feet familiar, the hum of machinery above grounding you. But then it happened—a shift in the air, a rhythm that didn’t belong. Heavy footsteps. Too many.

You froze for a moment, tilting your head slightly as if listening closer, though you didn’t need to. The vibrations said it all. Four, no… five people. All moving toward you, their steps unsteady but deliberate.

“Hey, little miss,” a gruff voice called, the sound bouncing off the walls. “Ain’t safe for someone like you to be out here all alone.”

You turned slightly, keeping your expression neutral. “I can handle myself, thanks.”

Laughter. It was sharp, jagged, like glass shattering in a quiet room. “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” the voice replied. “But see, we’ve got a problem. This here’s our turf. And you? You look like you’re lost.”

The vibrations grew closer, surrounding you. They were trying to box you in. Your hand instinctively brushed against the metal pipe at your side—a makeshift weapon you always carried. You tightened your grip.

“I’m not lost,” you said calmly. “But you’re about to be.”

Silence for a beat. Then the leader barked out a laugh. “Feisty one, huh? Shame. We could’ve been nice.”

The first swing came fast—a clumsy, overconfident lunge you could feel before it even connected. You ducked easily, using the vibrations to track their movements.

“Big mistake,” you muttered, spinning the pipe in your hand and swinging low. It connected with a satisfying crack, the vibration of impact reverberating up your arm.

But the others weren’t standing idle. Another thug grabbed for you, and though you twisted away, his grip managed to tear your sleeve. You swung back hard, connecting with his ribs, but more footsteps were closing in.

You gritted your teeth. This was going to be a fight.

-

You stood over the last of the thugs, breathing heavily as you wiped a bit of blood from your lip, the adrenaline still surging through you. The alley was littered with bodies—some unconscious, others barely clinging to consciousness. They wouldn’t be bothering anyone for a while.

Your hand rested on the metal pipe, your fingers flexing around the cold steel, as if still gauging whether they were all truly out of commission. You could feel their uneven breathing, the way their pulses had slowed. They were done for now.

With a satisfied smirk, you let the pipe fall to the ground, the sound echoing in the silence of the alley. You had done more than just defend yourself; you’d sent a message.

“You should’ve known better,” you muttered, stepping over one of them as you made your way back toward the exit. Your body ached from the fight, but the satisfaction of taking them down lingered.

You weren’t just some blind girl lost in the city—no, you were a force, and anyone who thought they could take advantage of that was about to learn the hard way.

As you left the alley, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride. It had been close, but you’d come out on top. And the next time anyone underestimated you, they’d be in for a surprise.

You walked into Sevika’s place, your movements a little slower now that the adrenaline had started to fade, leaving the aches and bruises to take center stage. Your clothes were torn, blood smeared across your skin, and there was a faint ringing in your ears from the aftermath of the fight. But you weren’t about to let any of that stop you.

Sevika looked up from her chair when she heard the door open, eyes narrowing as she saw the state you were in. “What the hell happened to you?” she asked, voice a mixture of concern and irritation.

You shrugged, trying to act casual, but the way your body winced when you moved betrayed you. “Had a run-in with a couple of thugs in the alley. Nothing I couldn’t handle, though.”

“Jesus,” Sevika muttered, setting down her drink and standing up. “Sit down. Let me take care of you.”

You obeyed without protest, easing yourself into a chair as she gathered the first-aid supplies. “It wasn’t even that bad,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “They didn’t know what hit ‘em.”

Sevika gave you a skeptical look, her hands moving expertly as she started cleaning the cuts and bruises. “Don’t start acting like this is some kind of joke. You’re lucky you don’t have worse injuries.”

“Hey, I came out on top,” you said with a grin, “I didn’t even need your help.”

Sevika shot you a look, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself. “I’m still patching you up, aren’t I? Not that I expected you to get into fights, but you really need to be more careful.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, but the smirk never left your face. “I’m not some damsel in distress. I can handle myself.”

Sevika didn’t respond at first, her fingers pausing in their work as if she was thinking carefully about something. “You’re right,” she finally said, voice softer. “But you don’t have to handle everything alone, you know?”

You paused, looking up at her. There was a quiet sincerity in her words, and for a moment, you almost forgot the pain. “I know,” you murmured, voice quieter than before. “But I don’t really have anyone else.”

Sevika’s hands moved again, but there was a gentleness in her touch now that wasn’t there before. “Well, you’ve got me,” she said, the words simple but carrying more weight than either of you were ready to admit.

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just let her work in silence, letting the calm of her presence wash over you as she finished tending to your wounds.

It was the first time in a long while you felt like maybe you weren’t entirely alone in this city.

As Sevika finished tending to your wounds, you couldn't help but chuckle at how seriously she took it, like she was the one who had been hurt. When she finally stepped back, satisfied with her work, you stood up and stretched.

"Thanks, Cupcake," you teased, your tone light and playful as you gave her a mischievous grin. Without giving her a chance to react, you leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

Her reaction was exactly what you'd hoped for—a slight stiffening, the faintest rise of heat radiating from her- but she didn't pull away. In fact, she seemed almost… fond, if not slightly caught off guard.

"You're something else," she muttered, her voice rough but with a hint of amusement in it. She quickly grabbed her drink and took a swig, clearly trying to cover her embarrassment.

You couldn't help but smirk at how flustered she got. "I know, Cupcake. That's what makes me so charming."

You turned to leave, but before you could get to the door, you paused and turned back to her. "See you around, Sevika."

Her gaze softened slightly, and she gave you a small nod. "Yeah, yeah. Take care of yourself."

With that, you walked out, the city lights greeting you with their familiar soft buzzing of electricity–you stepped back into the streets, your mind running not just from the fight, but from the brief moment of something that felt like… warmth.

you chuckle softly, damn woman.

[bedouinpoet]

Leader, lover, sir, and broken dream

Aaron Hotchner x (BAU) fem reader

Continuation of Permission and offices and punishments. Three part story. Took me a hot minute to finish it but hope you like it part 2 and 3 will be done soon! Hope you enjoy my lovelies. Not much SMUT in this chapter but a ton in the next two chapters 🫣

CHAPTER 1

It had been a year since Haley was murdered by George Foyet aka the reaper. That day tore down everything for Hotch…for Jack…and for you. Her funeral was the day Aaron Hotchner decided to end it with you. You felt your heart rip apart he was pushing you away. After everything you both went through together, even when Haley and Jack were in witness protection things may have gotten rocky but you got to be there for him but there was this feeling of guilt that you were together while they were in witness protection. But you and the team were all doing everything you possibly could to take Foyet down but when all was said and done…you remember that day, every day like it was only moments before.

…

1 year ago, Haley’s funeral.

Everything feels so surreal for the whole team, everyone just trying to see what you could do for Aaron “I just feel so awful, maybe I should send them gift basket or or or I don’t know home made cookies, or brownies or wine I don’t know-“ you give Pen a hug to cool down her spiral as she starts to tear up “hey whatever you give them they will love, Jack happens to love double chocolate and Hotch likes simple chocolate chip you wink and wipe away her tears “they’ll be okay pen, its just gonna take time and a whole lot of support from us when their ready” She smiles and nods giving you one more grateful hug. You spend an hour talking with people sharing memories, you notice Hotch has been avoiding you but you shake it off you can’t imagine what he’s going through all you can do is be patient and be there for him as best you can but its getting hard when all you want to do is hold him, tell him it will be alright. Give Jack-o-lantern a big hug. But for some reason you can’t. You keep glancing at Hotch and notice he started fidgeting with his index and thumb, he always does that when he’s nervous or a million miles away so you shoot him a text

Y/N: Hey, if you need a drink or some fresh air just let me know , how are you right now? <3

You see Hotch take his phone, read your text…then put it back, he’s never done that, he really is avoiding you. You once again shake it off as Derek comes over beside you. “He’ll be okay pretty girl” and you start to feel your eyes burn with tears, the emotions you’ve been burying rise to the surface, Morgan is always able to get you and he hugs you without you needing to say a word and you stay in his arms for a moment “I know guess I just feel so useless. How are you feeling by the way DM?” He laughs into your hair, you started calling him that after a flirty joke you told Morgan to piss off Hotch and get punished after work “Derek Morgan can fill my DM’s anytime”

Hotch tied you to the bed and didn’t let you cum for an hour after that.

“I’m alright pretty girl just worried about Hotch and Jack but they are both tough they’ll get through it” you find yourself hugging him tighter not realizing how badly you needed to be hugged like this….then you get a text

Hotch: meet me outside in five…please…the balcony

you turn to see but Hotch is already gone. As you step out onto the balcony you face Aaron’s back. Even after everything he’s gone through he always stands tall, the air and silhouette of a leader. And he fidgets with his index and thumb, you clear your throat and he turns around his face softens from surprise to familiarity “you were a million miles away huh?” He tilts his head in curiosity and it takes everything in you to not just go and kiss that adorable face…but some thing about the way he looks at you stops you. Even from grabbing his hand. You just put your hands in your pockets “What’s up handsome? Where’s your head at right now?” He swallows hard and for the first time ever it seems like Aaron Hotchner….was scared to say whatever he wanted to say. “Aaron? What is it? talk to me” you reach for his hand finally and for a moment everything is okay for a moment Hotch is back to being your Hotch, your Aaron, then it crashes, he lets go of your hands and ”I don’t think we should continue this anymore…”

”I’m sorry? Continue what?”

”this….us…”

you try and tell yourself this is a trick of your mind, your ears something in your body is just playing some sick joke…it must be

“wait…are you ….Aaron are you breaking up with me?”

You see Hotch’s eyes swell with tears and you know one more word and the dam breaks as he nods

“what? No? Aaron, Hotch honey right now you’ve gone through something unimaginable and its fine if you need me to give you and Jack some space to settle but please please don’t do this, don’t do what you always do when your in pain don’t push me away we don’t have to end this, us, after how hard we-“

”but we do don’t you see? Haley-“

the dam shatters to a million pieces but he keeps going “While Haley and jack- my son! Were in witness protection , while Foyet was hunting them like dogs, you and I were” his sobs began to break through and it was like time stopped for you as you felt every brick of the wall he tore down, slowly build back up. You say nothing as he continues “I just can’t…I don’t know if we can go past this cause everytime we’ve kissed since…I just can’t…I think its safer if we just stop now”

”Safer for whom?” You want to cry, to shout, to push him, to hug him but you can’t you just stand there eyes burning looking at the man you love push you away and your entirely powerless. You notice your question took him by surprise

“well…you said safer …safer for whom, you or me? Cause I think you’re scared, and hurt and so you do what you always do when you’re in pain and your scared of losing someone else you love and I think that’s really why your saying this”

don’t cry is all you can think as as Hotch cries. You realize you’ve never really seen him cry like this and you also realize . He is already going through hell, if this is what he wants you can’t make it harder on him especially not now.

“No I’m saying this because it’s the truth. Right now I need to focus on Jack we are done…I’m sorry y/n I really really am…tell me what I can do-“

“nothing-“

”wh-what?”

”there is nothing you can do…you clearly Made your choice. I wont beg, and I wont make this harder for you right now you need to take care of yourself and Jack …it’s fine I understand . It was nice while it lasted and hopefully we can still be friends especially since we work together -“

“of course but y/n-“

he tries to grab your hand but its too late you are already walking away with a text from Morgan

Derek: we got another case :(

“its fine Hotchner….no worries I get it goodbye” no more calling him Aaron…Aaron was for a different time a happier time so you leave making sure not to look back or else he’d see the tears streaming down your face and your body almost shut down….as you walk away from your dream and build back those brick walls this time with iron steel

…

back to present 1 year later

”remind me again why we can’t make paperwork illegal?”

You sigh placing another file on the mountain on your desk, leaning back on your chair you allow yourself a glance at Hotch. Since the breakup you have kept your distance but he always made it so hard. After a few months he started having you drive in the the same car again, teaming up more often and you always made sure to act like you didn’t care.

“I know what you mean pretty girl Damn, my hand is about become a permanent claw if only SOMEONE would take us out of our misery and can read all this in five minutes…what do you say pretty boy?”

you and Morgan both look at Reid with pleading eyes, you’re practically pouting and without even looking up from his page Reid shakes his head smiling “not a chance”

“ughhhhh” you and Derek both groan in unison

“I think that’s Spence”s way of saying ‘how can you do your job properly without doing the paper work or the statistics on how we can we improve our speed reading by doing more paperwork-“

“actually statistically the average person learns their reading timing by the age of 15 although with practice you can improve your timing by practice but its best to practice before the age of 40 or else it becomes far more difficult. So Technincally the human mind can learn to read 4.5 seconds faster the more you train it to skim whilst still retaining the information-“

“Spence Spence….JJ was just being sarcastic hun” you pat him on the shoulder “bless my wee lamb” (every time you call him that he blushes how could you resist) “ohhhh” he mearly nods and continues to read as you all laugh before continuing your own work. When you see Pen coming out of Hotch’s office…”we have a case my lovelies…off to the round table my knights of shining armour…or leather for my handsome man and pretty girl Morgan and y/n”

you and Morgan high five in mini celebration “saved by the bell!”

“So you are all heading to Dallas Texas home of hot cowboys, horses annnnd creepy serial killers apparently…this is Victoria Baird a 23 year old sophomore in college, last night she was taken from her car after a frat party….”

“Any idea if she was on anything?”

”not according to her friends apparently she rarely drinks and last night she was the appointed designated driver-“ before you could ask anything further you notice Pens face fall further “alas my beautiful family there’s more and the real reason Dallas PD invited us….this is Patty Sybil, Cherry Smith, Liz Barton, in the past three weeks each were grabbed on a Friday and found the next Friday, ME says they were dead less then an hour before they were found so they were killed that day.”

“One a week that’s a short cooling off period, all brunettes, short hair, brown to hazel eyes, he definitely has a type these girls look like they could be sisters-“ you notice Hotch’s eyes never leaving you…maybe he notices what you unfortunately already picked up on…these girls looked a hell of lot like you….you remember comforting JJ a lot when the cases had to do with young blond women around her age and looked like her….it was tough…and now you understand even more how it can make you feel when the victimology hits too close to home…its a haunting feeling but you shake is off reminding yourself this is about them and finding the son of a bitch hurting these innocent girls all because they wanted to party…these girls had a right to feel safe no matter what they were doing. And its about finding Victoria-

“if we’re right Victoria Baird only has till Friday to live… wheels up in 20” Hotch is the first to grab his go bags and leave. You, Reid and JJ agree to get the coffee on your way promising Em to pick up her caramel Machiatto with soy.

…..

On the Plane you take your usual corner seat legs up leaning against the wall. Missing the days when you always sat by Hotch, secretly getting a hand grab or thigh grab when no one was watching but you liked your corner, your corner was safe, your corner was farthest away from Hotch but still part of the conversation. You try to make notes in the file as you notice a pattern.

“Hey Pen?”

“Yes beautiful girl?”

“You said that Victoria was the DD and apparently Cherry Smith was partying with her friends but she was 4 years sober and apparently didn’t break it…what was Liz Bartons drinking habit? Especially the night she was taken?” Everyone looks down except Hotch whose eyes remain on you hanging on your every word. “thaaaat is a good question….acording to her friends she wasn’t much of a drinker and…” Garcia’s eyes widen, you were right “she was the DD the night she was taken”

“THATS another connection our unsub likes the responsible type but why? I mean it would be a lot easier to take someone when their inhibitions are lowered by alcohol, not that I’m victim blaming ever…person has every right to go enjoy themselves and be safe doing it but yet the unsub takes those whose alert is probably at the highest..”

“why do you say that?” Reid gives you your coffee and sits besides you as you share your blanket

“when you’re a girl…and with your girlfriends you know the risks…all girls do and when your the DD there is an unspoken responsibility to keep tabs on everyone to keep your girls safe and-“

For a moment you picture yourself in the bar as the unsub, who and what would you look for? How to catch her off guard. Your brain is going faster then you realize until you hear Hotch’s voice bring you back to reality as he seems to read your mind, he always does.

“Which makes her the perfect target, she’s so focused on everyone else’s safety she doesn’t pay attention to the man that’s focused on her” you nod your head taking a moment longer to keep eye contact with Hotch so you quickly look away clearing your suddenly dry throat.

“Exactly! Plus her other friends were intoxicated so none of them are paying much attention to the perv in the corner”

you find yourself able to sit a bit taller and you try not to smile but you always feel this way when you crack something new in the case, a small insurance that you belong in this team. But your smile fades as you notice Hotch looking at you even while Rossi’s talking and you can’t read his eyes but you swear there’s a hint of a smile in his face, pride? No that can’t be it you think looking away and staying relatively quite the rest of the flight only talking to Spencer who’s feet are now up as you both share the blanket comfortably and he rests his hand casually on your shin that’s by him covered up. Hotche’s eyes darken as he notices the level of casual touch between you two. The moment you landed in Dallas it was non stop. Hotch tried to pair you off with him when “actually is it ok if y\n comes with me? I think she could give more insight plus she’s the youngest and college students would be more likely to open up to her-“

“plus my wee lamb needs a wing woman with all them college girls” you hug Reid and kiss his cheek teasingly as he fake pushes you away but you notice Reid’s blush and Hotch stares daggers in your directions but he gave in “fine- Reid and y/n you two go to the college and the frat house Victoria was last seen in, JJ you’re with me to coordinate with local law enforcement” and you all part says in your respective SUVs “don’t worry wee lamb you can be passenger princess” you wink at Reid and he shakes his head and laughs “gee thanks”…..

“so do you remember if anyone was paying particular attention to Victoria? Anyone come up to her?” Reid begins to ask questions to the victims friend Lindsey as you look outside of the frat house, no signs of a struggle. “No-no I don’t know there was a few guys, but everyone loved Vickie and she’s so pretty-“

you sense a tinge of jealousy at those final words as she looked off when she spoke. You and Reid gave knowing looks, you’d discuss that later. “Did she reject anyone? Any of them take it hard?” You ask stepping closer. Lindsey shakes her head “I don’t think so, it was just a fun party everyone having a good time” you could tell she was holding something back. You push further. “Come on Lindsey…I need you to think, you said a few guys hit on her? So she must have rejected at least one of ‘em at least right? Think”

“okay yea…yea one of the guys struck out with Vic, he was this shorter white guy, he kept trying but Vic just wasn’t into it, he throw a glass on the ground, so a couple of the guys kicked him out”

Reid adds on to the questioning “do you remember anything else about the guy? Hair colour maybe? Eyes, anything distinctive?” “yea blond I think but the lights were crazy that night, colourful, and music was loud bumpin-“

Reid looks at you for translation and you laugh lightly

“she means the music was good ya nerd”

you nudge him, loving his innocence even when he’s supposed to be the older one…

the rest of the day went the same way, two more mentions of the supposed “short blonde white dude” but with no other descriptions or leads, Hotch called it a night. As you step up to the front desk of the hotel a feeling of Deja vu washed over you when the women says “sorry agents we’re almost entirely full a couple conferences in the city we only have four rooms available, two king, two double twin”

Before anyone could say anything Rossi takes one of the kings for himself “sorry kids I am not sharing a room again too old and consider this pay back for the two bottles of hundred dollar scotch you party animals drank at my house.” Everyone rolled their eyes but you couldn’t argue as he was already walking to the elevator waving while it closed, Emily and JJ paired off which left you with Morgan, Reid ….and Hotch. Whatever happens you knew you couldn’t pair off with Hotch it would be too hard, too painful. Your head spiralled, Hotch was clearly looking at you ready to speak when Reid saves the day and you could just kiss him for it “hey y/n wanna room? We can watch that documentary on Arthurian history we talked about?” You can’t help but smile widely loving your bestie more and more. “hell yea we can, but we are gonna have to get some chips, can’t have a documentary night without proper snack action, we’ll take the king” you wink at Reid and he shakes his head as you notice Hotch staring at you with a shocked expression at your ease to share a bed with your bestie. But Reid breaks the tension. “Deal ill go get them and meet you upstairs”

”sounds gucci handsome I’ll take your bag just get my chips.” You grab Reids go bag and you nudge Morgan as you notice him laughing “y’all really are nerds…I mean I expected that from pretty boy but you too y/n?”

“Hey! I’m a nerd and proud you’re just jelly cause you aren’t part of the King Arthur legends snack party” you stick your tongue out and tease morgan more as Hotch hands him the room key pretending to ignore the conversation but you could tell he’s hanging on every word. You all go into the elevator and you put your bag and Reid’s bag down giving your exhausted arms a break. When the elevator door opens on your teams floor before you can react Hotch grabs your bag silently, you don’t argue you just grab Reids bag and head to your door, before Morgan steps into his own room he makes sure to wink at you “hey you and pretty boy better not get too crazy.” “no promises” you wink back sticking your tongue out as you go into your own hotel room followed closely by Hotch so close you feel yourself barely able to breath. As you get into the room you gently put Reid’s bag down on the rather smaller looking king size bed then as you turn around you notice Hotch putting your bag down on the bench close to the door, staring at the bed, looking none too happy. The silence deafening so you try to break it as casually as possible “welllp thanks Hotch!”

“What’s going on between you and Reid?”

and that hit of Deja vu strikes again for the second time today remembering him asking a similar question regarding Morgan. Yet you’re still caught by surprise by the question all the same. “I’m sorry?” His face remains at his neutral seriousness but his jaw is clenching, he does that when he’s proper angry. “are you and agent Reid dating yes or no?” You start to feel anger sizzling at his authoritative, ownership tone. As if he has some right to know everything about your sex or relationship life. This time for some reason you wanna see where this goes so you play with him. “maybe….its not really your concern Hotchner” it was his turn to act surprised. “excuse me? It’s my business as your boss-“

you feel your emotions starting to bubble to the surface and shockingly it’s followed by your eyes filling with tears

“oh for fuvk sakes Hotch don’t give me that Bull! Garcia and Kevin dated and it was fine. YOU AND I (the tears start to fall) and worked and did our job fine so don’t act like this is work related cause that’s bullshit Aaron Hotchner….you’re jealous and THATS the real reason and we both know it. Why can’t you just admit it!?” You feel your face burning, your whole body shakes and you feel, whatever was keeping you together, break, and you notice his fist clenching, his eyes darken and without half a second passing his hand is grabbing your waist and his lips crash into yours. In that moment you feel like you’re coming home. Your hands run through his hair your other hand grabbing his tie but as you feel his hand run under your shirt carressing your bare skin, something in you pushes him away, “no no I can’t do this-“ you take a step back

“y/n? What’s wrong?” His face flushed yet filled with concern and the dam breaks, the rope snaps. Your breath still heavy but you continue “we can’t do this…fuck why Hotch? Why? First you break up with me, you broke me! And now what ? You wanna fuck me just cause you see me with someone else on the team?” He shakes his head profusely “no-no no sweet-“

”don’t call me that! You lost the that right when you ended it…”

You notice the hurt in his eyes but you can’t you just can’t, he broke you last time. Hotch takes a deep breath

“okay…I apologize, but that’s not it y/n I-“

”Then what? Huh!?cause we both know-its only been a year, we fuck, I let you back in, then something makes you feel guilty and you drop me again….I can’t handle it I already lost you once….if I lose you again it would kill me, and this time I wouldn’t recover just-“ you feel your eyes burn with your pain “just get out Hotch, we’ll forget about the whole thing just go! Please!” Before he could protest you started to cry completely and your face spilt with your pain, apparently Hotch could see that because he didn’t argue, he stood up straight and walked out closing the door gently as you fall onto the bed, face in your hands trying to hide your hurt from the empty room as you feel yourself break all over again but you swore this time….you weren’t going to let him hurt you again….

to be continued

[miintsprigz]

Hello! I loved your mercs x artist reader! I ran into it when I started a Spy art piece a few days prior. (Spooky!) I wanted to request something! Headcanons about a (g/n) reader fear-punching the mercs out of instinct. Like, what if scout just jumped out at the reader and the reader fucking DECKS him on accident. Preferably all mercs, but if that's too much, then just Scout, Spy, and Medic. Obv feel free to ignore, but thank you for your other written pieces!

Oooh, y’all have such good requests!!!

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty sleepy right now, but Scout, Spy, and Medic are some of my favorite mercs to write for, so I can definitely write those three.

May make a part two with the others when I have a bit more energy!

I hope you enjoy, dear Anon ^^

Characters used: Scout, Spy, Medic (TF2)

Warnings: Bit of blood, stuff relating to anxiety.

Scout:

Finally, the weekend was here. It had not been a good week for you in the slightest, and you were glad that it was done. You could unwind and take it easy now.

Kicking your shoes off as you entered, you closed the door, only to be greeted with a sudden blast of noise.

“Boo!”

Without even thinking, your hand curled into a fist, shot out and struck the figure square in the jaw. About a second later, you recognized the voice as belonging to the Scout.

“Ow!!! What the—?!” He groaned in pain, rubbing the side of his face.

“O-oh my gosh, Scout…I, I’m so sorry…”

He curled his lips inward for a second, biting them. Jeremy wasn’t mad at you—truly, he wasn’t, although it hurt crazy bad.

His first reflex when punched was to punch back…but he wasn’t going to punch you. Never you. So he had to freeze for a second, taking a deep breath, rolling his head to the side.

You kept apologizing, hands starting to shake a bit. Quickly, gently, he reached up and took ahold of one of them, gently squeezing his fingers around the back of it, tapping them almost rhythmically against your skin.

A small smile made its way to his face, shaking his head slightly.

“…ya know, if I was just getting back here, and someone jumped out at me…I think I’d slug ‘em too. You’re okay, (Y/N)… I’m sorry I scared ya.”

You wanted to cry for a second, and he could tell. Pulling you in quick, he brought his other arm up to hug you quickly.

“You okay?”

“I-I’ll be fine, just gotta breathe…did I hurt you too bad—”

“Been hit way worse than that, doll. Ya do got a mean right hook on ya though.”

You laughed, and that helped to catch your breath.

“Let me get you some ice…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine, I’m tough…” Reaching up to gingerly touch the spot he’d been struck resulted in a wince though.

You jerked your head towards the kitchen. “C’mon.”

“Arright, if it makes ya feel better…”

“Oh shush.”

A quiet laugh cued you in that he’d be just fine after some ice.

He was noticeably careful with you as the day went on. You could tell he felt bad, but you’d said it was okay…and if he could take anyone at their word, it was you.

____

Medic:

Good word, you hadn’t been sent through respawn, but with how much your head hurt, you were starting to think that might have been a better deal than what you got.

Immediately, you sought out the Medic. If anyone could help you recover, it was him, of course.

You figured you’d just wait outside his office until he came back…not realizing he was already there. Hearing you outside, the doctor slowly, silently opened the door, and went to tap you on the shoulder.

Obviously, you hadn’t expected to see anyone, let alone feel a hand on you, and the pain had you on autopilot, so you spun around and—

“Ach!”

“Medic??? Crap—you scared me, I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, I—I just need—it hurts so bad—!”

Great. So now you were in pain after a long day, and you’d (accidentally) clobbered the only guy who could fix it! This was one of those “last straw” moments though, and Medic could tell.

“Oh (Y/N), no need to explain! Take a breath for a moment, bitte (please)! I promise I am fine…oh no…”

You tried to breathe, but it caught in your throat. His eyes were locked onto you, gently grasping your shoulders. Tears had threatened to spill down your face, and this got them falling. You sniffled, trying to keep composed.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“There there, come, walk with me…”

The two hands on your shoulders became one hand gently grasping yours, leading you to a cot in his office to take a seat.

“Where is the pain? Point. I will fix it.”

Somehow, the compassion and somewhat surprising gentleness only made you cry more, but you pointed to your head.

“Ooh, ja, after what I saw you put through today, I’m not surprised—my head would hurt, too.”

Before you knew it, a light flickered on above you, and as the machinery whirred, your pain waned and disappeared entirely.

“There! Good as new.”

Your voice broke when you tried to speak. “Doc…”

“What is it? Does it still hurt? That shouldn’t be…”

He leaned down a bit so that he was on eye level with you. You shook your head.

“I punched you…I didn’t mean to punch you, I didn’t even want to, I…I’m so sorry…”

You knew you’d calm down in a minute, but right now you couldn’t help yourself, and it seemed like he understood that. Before you knew it, he’d hugged you tightly, holding you close to his chest. Tousling your hair lightly with one hand, he shushed you softly.

“Shh shh shh…it’s alright, Liebling, I know reflexes when I see them. I shouldn’t have done that—I’ll tell you that it’s me next time, that’s all! If I can patch you up, I can do the same to myself, so…it’ll be like it didn’t even happen!”

You laughed a bit, and felt him rest his chin against the top of your head before both of you pulled apart.

Once again, his hand grasped yours, and he quickly took your other one too.

“Feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah…thanks, Medic. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, (Y/N). Of course.”

________

Spy

Being a close companion of the silent killer, it only made sense that he’d scare you by mistake at some point. Without even meaning to.

You’d even imagined the scenario in your head. And yet. When it actually happened, you still weren’t ready.

Waking up after a series of weird dreams, you went to head downstairs to grab some water and hopefully head back to bed.

Standing there, with the only real light source being the tiny bulb in the back of the fridge, you grabbed a cup and filled it up, not even bothering to sit down to drink it.

Feeling someone brush against your shoulder, you flinched hard and felt your fist go up of its own accord.

It made contact, with a yelp following it.

“Ah!”

“…Spy? Oh no…”

The Spy held one hand over his nose, groaning quietly.

“Hello, (Y/N). You’re up rather early.”

“I’m so sorry, you scared me—”

There was a brief flash of realization over his eyes, and you recognized a bit of shame.

“…you know what, fair enough. I did not think that through.”

Pulling his hand back revealed that he was bleeding quite a bit. “…well, that’s not good. Excuse me.”

Spy was so…matter of fact, about this? It almost put you at ease, but not quite enough. You followed him as he briskly walked to the bathroom, having to scramble along a bit to keep up with him.

“Did I break it?”

“No, I don’t believe so. Breaks hurt much more than this.”

It wasn’t too surprising to hear that someone who was basically a secret agent had broken his nose before.

He looked over at you with confusion flitting across his face, having finally cleaned up most of the blood. Brows furrowed together, he sounded truly puzzled.

“…(Y/N), you didn’t strike me as being afraid of blood.”

“I-I’m not!” You didn’t like how sharply your voice came out, but you couldn’t seem to change it much.

“Well, what’s the matter then? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Spy, I…I punched you. I hurt you.”

“Hmm, debatable really. Punched me, yes. Hurt me? Only for a moment. The bleeding is already stopping.”

You looked at him, bewildered, and felt your face quickly heating up. His expression softened, sighing quietly as the slightest trace of a smile came to his face.

“…Mon coeur (my heart), I’m alright. Please, don’t get yourself upset over it.”

Without thinking about it, you stumbled forward slightly and hugged him. He stepped back a bit at first, surprised, but quickly followed suit, stroking your hair.

“Takes a lot more than that to hurt me. Besides, I took you completely off-guard. I’d argue you just demonstrated sharp reflexes.”

Once Spy pulled back, you realized he was still in that suit.

“Well, at least there’s no blood on your suit.”

With a chuckle, he smirked at you. “Yes, good point.”

“…Why are you fully dressed at this hour anyway? Do you sleep in it?”

Spy rolled his eyes at you. “Absolutely not. I just got back. Late night mission, you see.”

“Ohhhh…”

Leaning against the bathroom counter, a playful tone warmed his voice. “If it will set you at ease, I can regale you with the tale…”

Yes, Spy loved to talk about himself, but this genuinely did seem like it was an attempt to help you calm down. Eagerly, you scrambled to sit on the edge of the tub, playfully resting your chin in your hands as if ready to hang onto every word.

With a snort, he shook his head. “I don’t think this would be a good place for it.”

“Oh!”

Quickly, you got to your feet again, and he bit back a grin as he slipped his arm around your shoulders, heading over to his smoking room.

[champagnefountains]

I have a request if they're still open.

Alastor decides to hire Reader as a radio intern. He first did it for entertainment, sending them out to do ridiculously hard and long tasks for his own amusement, like fetching him coffee from the other side of Hell in a super short period of time or proof reading scripts that he purposely made completely illegible to anyone but himself, but had slowly begun to fall for them the longer they stuck around.

ALASTOR - H.H.

Prompt: Being Alastor's radio intern.

Thank you for your request anon! I hope you'll enjoy this one!

Word count: 1.5k+ words. Genre/other tags: Fluff. Humour. Warnings: None.

You were unfortunate to have your soul be owned by the renowned Radio-Demon. Tough luck. You were merely a desperate soul who needed a major favour to be done by yours truly, and are now forever tied and forced to do his bidding. You initially expected a life-time of torture and pain, but was pleasantly surprised when he had requested for you to be his personal radio-intern-slash-assistant.

"Dear Charlie and I have been so, so busy and I just need an extra hand is all...and that's where you come in!" He chimed, pinching your cheek. Alastor explained that he needed someone to assist in managing his radio-broadcasts and schedules while he was out playing hotelier. And just as you thought that you were off the hook, it turns out that this had been his own, little way of torturing you.

Alastor made you do the most ridiculous and tedious tasks ever – like fetching a cup of coffee from a cafe situating on the other side of Hell, or obtain some weird, obscure item from sketchy shops in the most dangerous and chaotic districts in all the Nine Circles, only for it to have little to no significance to him at all. Of course, you did some actual radio-intern-related tasks, but it didn't make things any easier for you. More so than often, Alastor would give you a stack-pile of his broadcast scripts to proof-read. The only problem was that all of it was mostly illegible, almost appearing like chicken scratch. It was then that you knew for certain he was doing this as some sort of sick entertainment for himself, knowing that he had the neatest penmanship amongst the entire team. Oh, and don't even get started with the ridiculous deadlines!

All in all, Alastor was constantly giving you a hard time. However, you were determined to not let him continue to walk all over you. After some time, you were slowly getting used to his strange requests and behaviours, and managed to find ways to work around them. Oh, he wanted his oddly specific order of coffee? You already had it ordered beforehand, and even had the beans supplied to have it readily brewed in the Hotel. He asked for some random-ass antique item? You had already established some connections during your previous commutes, and will have it delivered on the doorstep the next day. You needed to proof-read his scripts? You've learnt to decipher his hieroglyphics and were able to get them done hours before its deadline, whilst also adding in a few of your own critiques and comments.

Already a couple months in the job and you've already got it in the bag. And if he was being honest, Alastor was surprised with your progress. Dare say that he was even impressed! It was like no matter what he had thrown your way, you were able to catch it with ease. Yes, he had to admit: he did initially hire you for his own entertainment – you were his little play-thing when boredom struck – but you had proved yourself as an important asset and massive help towards him and the Hotel. You even went out of your way to help with tasks in the Hotel, such as tending the front desk with Cherri, assisting in the kitchen with Nifty, and even managing some group activities alongside Charlie and Vaggie.

You were incredibly hard-working, selfless and compassionate. Alastor and everyone in the Hotel could see it. It initially ticked Alastor off, seeing that his plans were foiled and were tailored to your favour, but the more you stuck around and spent time with himself and everyone else, he genuinely began enjoying your company. And vice versa. When he wasn't being the overbearing and unreasonable boss that he can be, you actually found yourself having fun in Alastor's presence, now often chuckling at his jokes and schemes.

But that wasn't the only thing that changed.

Alastor came to a stark realisation that he had developed feelings for you. It was a foreign feeling to him, which initially confused him at first but it filled him with such warmth that his cold-heart craved for. He found himself seeking your presence constantly (more than usual, that is), always making an effort to talk to you (again, more than usual), and at times, forcing you to stay in his office while he worked on his scripts, and even have you sit through his broadcasts. Even if it wasn't obvious, Alastor's feelings were overwhelming him with each passing day – he didn't know how to go about it. 

So Alastor resorted to what he does with most things �� in straight-forward and curt fashion, of course. 

"S-Sir, you...y-you want me to do what?" You stuttered, a rapid and violent blush suddenly taking over your face. "I said, I want you to go out with me!" Alastor repeated nonchalantly, all the while jokingly tapping a finger on his microphone, "hello, hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing!" You couldn't help but gawk at the deer-demon and his bluntness. He had summoned you to his office out-of-the-blue, requesting your presence urgently in the midst of an activity session you were co-hosting with Vaggie. With the way he went about it, you would've thought that there was some sort of emergency. Not...well, not this.

"...Go out with you? Like...on a walk, or something?" You slowly reiterated, trying to get a grasp on what he was trying to say. Alastor hums to himself, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, if that's what you prefer to do on our date, then I suppose that would be quite swell! We can fit that right in once we've had our dinner," He nods after a brief moment’s contemplation. It nearly sent your eyes popping out of its sockets. "Woah, woah! A-A date?! You mean, a date?! With–with me?!" You exclaimed, pointing to yourself in disbelief. The Overlord rose a brow.

"Why, of course! You're the only one in the room that I'm currently talking to, dear! Oh, hoh, you're quite silly, aren't you?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "B-But...don't you think this is like–I don't know, a bit unprofessional, sir?" You timidly ask, picking at your fingers, "you are my boss, after all..."

Alastor tilted his head to the side, humming, "Hm, perhaps. But I believe we’ve already crossed that boundary long ago, don’t you think? We’ve treated each other like good, ol’ comrades rather than just co-workers these past few months, have we not?” You blink. “I…I guess we have,” you blankly affirm.  

“Right? So, with that being said, I can't help but want something more. I do wish to properly court you. After all, it's not everyday a mortal soul such as yourself could pique my interest. That means to say that you’re quite exceptional, dear!” You couldn’t help but nervously chuckle at the flattery, shaking your head, “w-well, I don’t know about that–” 

“Oh, none of that nonsense!” He suddenly swoops in, waving a hand and shaking his head, “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who has managed to keep up at my level the way you have. It’s very impressive and admirable – take my word for it!” 

Alastor then suddenly evades your personal space, leaning down to eye-to-eye level with you. It startles you momentarily but you decidedly maintain eye-contact with him, too nervous to look away. It causes his grin to widen. "And I can bravely assume that you wouldn't mind taking up my offer...as you haven't yet made any effort or comment to decline it, hm?" He smartly comments, looking at you expectedly. 

Well..damn, he got you there, didn’t he? Because in truth, you did enjoy the playful dynamic you've established with him. You found satisfaction in the little praises and smiles Alastor would send your way whenever you accomplished something and slowly, you found yourself valuing his opinion of you. You then tried to up yourself with each passing day, and it was just as shocking for you when you came to terms with your own feelings. 

And that’s how you found yourself being courted by the Radio-Demon himself. 

After that, nothing much had changed in your dynamic with Alastor – you still continued being his radio-assistant. Well, other than the fact that he had become more openly sweet towards you. This meant calling you a variety of pet-names and giving you a little less work for you when he knows you’ve worked yourself hard enough. Small pecks and kisses will be rewarded when you would hand him his cup of coffee every morning, and he would invite you to join and sit on his lap when he would do his frequent broadcasts. He would also teasingly ask you to call him ‘sir’, knowing that it’ll fluster you so much – he just loved and enjoyed seeing you turn red all over. He even stopped with his hieroglyphics, reverting back to his usual handwriting when writing his scripts – the joke’s gone a bit stale, he says. And at the end of a long, tiring day, Alastor would have you in his arms as you happily basked in each other’s company.

[scorpioriesling]

Hello! Do you think you're going to continue writing part 5 of " invisible strings" with eris? I really loved this series! Thank you

Invisible String - Part 5

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): Please be advised; this part might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: My apologies, this took forever for me to finish writing for you all (I've had so much on my plate lately). This part IS SHORT, HOWEVER I'm literally already working on the next part and wanted to give you guys at least what I had done so you knew I was indeed working on it! Lol. I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't read the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- I hope you are excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @mellowmusings @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori @dannul @velarisdusk @lamarmotta @paintedbyshadows @i-know-i-can @adventure-awaits13 @acourtofbatboydreams (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

The Autumn Court experienced the changing seasons like any other in Prythian. Spring was still spring, there was still snow in the winter -- but, the current state of dreary, grayness that took over the sky and stretched beyond the court's borders was quite the contrast to a usual week in July.

Perhaps, it was a reflection of the inner turmoil seeded in those residing in the Forrest House.

"Y/N," Riley whines. "When will the sun come back?"

You sigh, wondering the same.

"I don't know Riles. I truly don't."

She huffs, her fingers reaching for her the mason jar sitting in the middle of the table. The wilting flower inside has lost the vibrant orange coloring on its petals from last week, now replaced with wilting brown ones.

"My flower is yucky with no sun on it." She frowns. You pat her head as she inspects the plant, your shoulders stiffening when you hear the front door open and close quietly.

"Daddyyyyy," Riley groans. "When is the sun coming out?" She trills, hopping off the dining room chair and making way for the front door. It seems she heard him come in too, as she makes her way toward the foyer.

The two of you had gone the entire week with as little communication as possible -- a whole lot of "yep"s and "mhm"s and nods and short debriefings. Since the whole closet incident from the week prior, you hadn't gotten the courage to talk with him again anyways; he'd been so cross with you, so irritated. Your cheeks heated at the thought, how embarassed you'd felt that night. The shame.

Honestly, the whole thing made you a bit angry.

You take a deep breath as footsteps approach, their hushed, mindless conversation drowned out by your own thoughts clouding your headspace. It's not until Eris is standing right in front of you that you come back to reality.

"Play tea party?"

You glance down, taking in the little one's innocent expression from down below. You give her a soft smile, looking to Eris quickly before returning her gaze.

"I'd be honored, dear -- would you go set it up? I'll come join you in a few minutes. Let me talk to your dad first." Riley nods, skipping down the hallway toward her bedroom. Eris looses a sigh, passing toward the kitchen island and leaning against it before looking to you again.

"So..." He says, folding his arms across his chest. You suck in a breath, prepared to hand it to him -- ask him what the Hell all that disrespect was for, what the deal is with the gowns, what was going on between the two of you, all of it.

But, your eyes catch on the wilting stem in the glass jar still sat on the table. You stall a moment, every angry thought in your head receeding like the tides when you consider what could be a more imortant topic of conversation in this very moment.

"So..." You begin, taking a step toward him. He watches you, his face expressionless, as you continue. "I... I've been thinking. Riley is, almost five, and... well, it is the last week of July..."

He simply nods, as though saying go on without saying it. You can't help but roll your eyes, stepping to stand right across from him in the space between the island and the kitchen counter.

"I think she should be enrolled in school."

His brow twitches at this, the most you've gotten from him all week. It's silent for longer than necessary, almost uncomfortable, so you start again.

"She's asking me things, Eris, that she needs a proper teacher for-"

"No."

You startle, blinking as his face returns to that look of emotionless stone.

"W-what?"

"I said no." He shrugs, staring you straight in the eye like it isn't negotiable.

"...Okay, well, I want you to hear me out." You say, trying to remain calm. "She wants to learn. She's inquisitive, and smart, and she-"

"I know she's smart." He cuts in. You huff, your brow furrowing.

"Eris, you're not even listening to me." You can't help the way your voice pitches, but his brows flatten into a straight line.

"I don't need to hear it, Y/N -- she has you. We can hire a teacher to come here if you want. But no, she isn't going to a public school where Gods know what could happen to her." He says, his low tone rising with each sentence.

You push off the counter, folding your arms across your chest. "She needs the social interaction with other kids her age, Eris. You can't keep her locked up in here-"

"I'm her father," he says angrily, leaning toward you. "I think I know, what she needs."

Once the words leave his mouth, his face softens as though he realizes what he's said and how he has acted. You stand still, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. Never has he acted so defensive, not even with the damned dresses -- but this, this was on a whole different level.

You watch as his expression changes from rage to pure worry, his concerned eyes searching yours in desperation. You can't help but look away, only glancing back when his fingers hesitantly reach for your arm.

"Y/N, I didn't mean-"

"Don't." You yank your shoulder back, sneering up at him. He drops his hand slowly, shaking his head as he fumbles for his words.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, I-"

"You're damned right, you shouldn't have." You said, glaring up at him through your brows. The lump in your throat only grew as you began to feel bad, practically kicking him while he was indeed apologizing.

Maybe he deserved it... a little.

You turned on your heel, making way for Riley's room. He could make dinner tonight. After all -- maybe some pretend tea would do you good.

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

"I need to leave at first light for another trip with the guard."

It'd been a few days since you'd had it out with Eris, and maybe it was good you did; he'd been much more present, insisting on cooking, proving more when he was home, and being more involved with not just his daughter but you as well when he was home in the evenings... well, as much as you'd let him be. You hadn't entirely forgiven him yet, all things considered, and the incident from a few weeks ago hadn't even been mentioned, so the relationship was, awkward. To say the least.

"How long this time." You said it as plainly as you could, trying to ignore the burn of the firepoker upon your heart at the thought of him leaving again. You wished it didn't hurt so bad, wished it didn't effect you so much each time.

"Only three days. A quick trip to Spring and back." He nods assuringly, setting his pack on the dining table and looking to you. Nodding, you awkwardly run your hand along your arm, feeling a bit exposed under his intense gaze. This late in the evening, you knew he didn't tell Riley he'd be leaving (per usual) -- so she'd wake up tomorrow with that lovely realization.

"Ok." You chew on your bottom lip, and Eris sighs, stepping toward you. He reaches for your hand, but sensing your hesitation, he retracts. A look of sadness crosses his face before his eyes meet yours.

"Those dresses... in the closet." He murmurs. "They were Selene's." His jaw tightens at the name, and you swear you stop breathing. This was not the conversation you planned to have tonight.

"She... her family, they pass them down for tradition." He continues. "On her way out, she didn't really care to take them; I mean, she took just about everything else, but." He huffs a humorless laugh, but continues when you don't say anything.

"Anyway... I kept them because." He sighs, his head dropping before looking to you again. "You're right, Y/N. Riley is a very smart girl. One day, she is going to ask about her birth mother, and, well."

He shrugs. "I'm not going to have anything to show or give her that was hers." His gaze drops.

"The only thing I had left was those silly dresses from her side of the family."

Your heart clenches as though you can feel every ounce of sorrow he is feeling in that moment. You reach out, your hand caressing his cheek softly before you can think.

"Eris, I... I had no idea, really, I'm sorry-"

"Please, Gods don't apologize." His hand covers yours, his fingers wrapping around yours as he holds it against his cheek. "I know how it looks, and how it must have looked when you happened upon it." He sighs, his other hand reaching for your waist.

"It didn't help that I handled the situation poorly, either." He admits, sorrowfully looking into your eyes. You gaze up at him, your mouth twisting to the side. "I can't take it back, but I truly hope you can understand how sorry I am Y/N."

You step closer, closing the gap between the two of you as he pulls you into a firm embrace. His hand runs through the strands of your hair, a gentle reminder that everything might, just might, be okay.

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

"Y/N! Another!"

Riley holds out an identical bloom to the one previously in the mason jar to you th efollowing day, her earlier sadness at her father's departure replaced with temporary glee.

"Oh wow! Look -- this one is very vibrant." You wink at her, continuing on the path back to the Forest House.

"Vi...bran...t." She sounds out, examining the stem in her hand. She dumped out the dead flower pre-garden walk, and surely will now want to replace it.

As the two of you approach the front door, you stoop down to grab the few pieces of mail collated there. One envelope of deep mohogany with gold embossing catches your eye -- but, you follow the little girl inside nonetheless and push the door closed.

"We put this in the cup?" She asks, already making way for the sink to gather more water for her jar. You set down the paper pile, giving her all your undivided attention.

"Of course dear," you say, helping her to sit on the counter and fill her jar from the sink. She places the new flower in the glass, beaming at its brilliancy.

"Yay!" She squeals, her little feet kicking with delight. You help her off the edge, carefully transporting the jar to the table where it sat prior.

"We make sure this one has sun," she insists. "So it won't be ugly."

You chuckle, returning to the mail pile and plucking the envelope from the top. Your intrigue only grows when you see it is adressed to Eris, Riley and you.

You don't waste another moment in tearing it open.

Scanning the page, you feel a new kind of excitement -- a flutter of hope in your heart, a surge of excitement through your veins. Every nerve ending is electric within you as your true joy grows, the passionate feeling inside deeper than what you thought you could explain before. You felt, like truly, what you said meant something. Someone cared what you said, and you'd been heard.

"Riley?" You called. Her little footsteps bounded into the room, a look of interest on her face as she took you in and the paper between your fingers.

"Uh huh?"

You grinned, telling her the wonderful knews.

"Your daddy signed you up for school next month, sweetie."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

[symp4nat]

Deep Questions?

Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

authors note: guys its a quarter past midnight i needa sleep i have church tmrw help

word count: almost 700 words hoorayy

Clarisse laid in her bed, with you laying on top of her, as she stroked your hair. "Don't you think we should be productive tod-"

You clapped a hand over her mouth. "Shut up. Today's one of the only days we don't have to do anything, so please, let's just stay in bed."

You buried your face into her neck and she tried not to giggle as your breath tickled her neck. "C," you quietly questioned.

She hummed in response. "Where do you see yourself in 10 years," you asked. She gave you a funny look and then answered, "Why?"

You shrugged. "Just answer it." She nodded and said, "Well, hopefully done with college, maybe I'll work at Camp Jupiter... hoping I'm alive till then." You slapped her arm. She continued, "And maybe I'll get an apartment at Jupiter."

You lifted your head. "On Jupiter?" She laughed and shook her head. "At Camp Jupiter." You nodded as you understood what Clarisse meant. "What about kids," you asked. Clarisse laid there in complete silence for a minute and then she shrugged, "Married to you, a few pets and kids later on."

You tried holding back a smile. "You'd wanna get married?" She shrugged with a nonchalant look on her face, "Yeah?"

You went back to your previous spot next to her neck and she asked, "Y/N/N?" You kissed her neck softly. "What's your favourite part about me?"

With an eager look on your face, you lifted your head. You fully sat up as your body straddled her waist. You gazed into Clarisse's gentle brown eyes. "Um... physical or personality?" Clarisse grinned and cooed, "Aww, you're the sweetest..."

You averted your face. "Shut up," you said as you tried to cover your blush.

Clarisse placed one hand at the bottom of your back and used the other to tilt your head towards her. "Both."

You gulped and said, "I guess... your eyes? They're very pretty. Or maybe your arms, they give very good hugs. Personality.... you act tough, but you're a softie, I think it's very cute."

Clarisse made eye contact with you. "First off, I'm not soft. Secondly, thank you, you're very kind. Then what's your favourite part of me that you like to kiss?"

Your face turned red. "Your nose? Or neck?" You looked down at her stomach and then whined, "Why am I the one answering all of these questions, why can't you?"

Clarisse gently laughed. "Fine, what do you wanna know?"

With a grin, you answered, "All of it!"

She laughed and said, "Well, for starters, I enjoy kissing your forehead-" You cut her off, "I like when you kiss my head." She nodded, "I know, that's why I do it. I'd say... I love your hands. I know that sounds sexual, but I love holding them, it's just so... it makes me happy, y'know?"

You nodded and tried to hold back a smile. She continued, "I love your kind and giving personality. And how you love hugs."

"You're so cute," you cooed as you cupped your girlfriend's face. "I'm not cute," Clarisse grumped. You giggled, "You're just proving my point right now.."

You scooted your body down and laid back in your spot next to Clarisse's neck. Her hands found their way under your shirt soon and she rubbed your back. You gently closed your eyes and she quickly noticed, especially as you shook your head.

"Go to sleep, mamas, you deserve it," Clarisse mumbled against your hair. You shook your head. "We barely get days off, this is our last one for what, 7 months? I wanna stay up and hang out," you said with a yawn.

"Bed time, goodnight," Clarisse commanded. You whined, "Please, I wanna hang out.."

Clarisse shook her head, "Nu uh, we can hang out another day, this is sleep time. We're still hanging out, just sleeping." She kissed your head and you pouted. "Fine. Night night."

You both quietly drifted off to sleep, just for Clarisse's siblings to see you both in her bed in the corner, snoring away. Her reaction to seeing the pictures they took was funny. But she can tell you another day.

[cl0udy3]

HI i really love your writing so much and I was wondering if you could do a soldier boy x reader oneshot with angst/comfort 💕💕💕💕💕 hope that is okay 🤗

soldier boy x fem!reader angst/comfort a/n: i hope you enjoy the oneshot! it took me wayy too long and i feel like it still came out super mid, but still i hope its to your taste :) (ALSO THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING ILYY) wc: 1195

The air was thick with tension, the calm before the inevitable storm.

With your arms crossed, you glared at Soldier Boy as he casually leaned against a table in the dimly lit safehouse. His iconic smug grin was firmly in place, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked every bit the invincible superhero he pretended to be, even with the fresh bruises darkening his jawline.

“You’re out of your mind if you think this is a good idea,” you snapped, breaking the heavy silence.

Soldier Boy raised an eyebrow and took a drag from the cigarette dangling between his fingers. “Good idea? Sweetheart, I’m not here to win a popularity contest. I’m here to get the job done. Something you should appreciate.”

Your jaw tightened. “Getting yourself killed isn’t ‘getting the job done.’ Charging in without a plan is suicidal, and you know it.”

He snorted, flicking ash onto the floor. “I’ve been doing this since before you were even a thought in your daddy’s head. I don’t need you to hold my hand.”

“And yet here I am, cleaning up your messes time and time again!” you shot back, taking a step closer. “You think you’re invincible, but you’re not. One day, that cocky attitude is going to get you killed, and I—” Your voice cracked, and you bit down on the words, refusing to let him see the depth of your concern.

Soldier Boy’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, his eyes flickering with something unspoken before his defenses went back up. “Yeah? You’ll what? Cry over my corpse? Please. Don’t waste the energy.”

Your hands clenched into fists. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re annoying,” he shot back. “So why don’t you stay here and let the big boys handle this? Wouldn’t want you to break a nail.”

“Ben, for once in your life, just listen to me!” The name slipped out before you could stop it, and it hung in the air between them like a live wire.

He straightened, the grin vanishing from his face. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” you challenged, stepping closer. “Because it’s real? Because it reminds you that underneath all this—” you gestured to his uniform and the larger-than-life persona he carried like armor—“you’re still human?”

For a moment, something raw and unguarded flashed across his face, but then it was gone, replaced by anger. “I don’t need this shit from you,” he said, turning on his heel. “Stay here. That’s an order.”

“Ben, wait—” But he was already gone, the door slamming shut behind him.

---

The battle was chaos.

The villain was stronger than expected, faster, too. Soldier Boy had charged in with his usual bravado, fists swinging and explosions lighting up the night. You watched from a distance, your heart pounding as you waited for the right moment to step in. He’d told you to stay behind, but there was no way you were going to let him face this alone.

“Cocky bastard,” you muttered under your breath as you moved closer, carefully staying out of sight.

From your vantage point, you could see Soldier Boy holding his own, but barely. Each punch he landed was met with one just as brutal, and the blood staining his uniform was evidence that this fight wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d like to pretend.

Your instincts screamed at you to intervene, but you hesitated. He’d made it clear he didn’t want your help. Still, when you saw the villain land a devastating blow that sent Soldier Boy crashing into a wall, the decision was made for you.

You launched into action, your own skills honed by years of working alongside him. The villain was tough, but together, you managed to gain the upper hand. It was only after the dust settled and the threat was neutralized that you realized something was wrong.

“Ben?” you called out, scanning the rubble. “Where are you?”

A weak groan answered you, and your heart dropped. Following the sound, you found him slumped against a pile of debris, his breathing shallow and labored. Blood seeped from a deep gash in his side, and his face was pale, his usual cocky demeanor nowhere to be found.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, dropping to your knees beside him. “Ben, stay with me. You hear me? Stay with me.”

He opened his eyes, the green irises dull and unfocused. “Told you... didn’t need your help,” he rasped, a weak smirk tugging at his lips.

“Shut up,” you snapped, your hands trembling as they pressed against the wound to stem the bleeding. “You’re not allowed to die on me, you hear? Not today.”

“You’re bossy when you’re scared,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

“And you’re an idiot,” you shot back, your voice breaking. “Why do you always have to do this? Why do you have to act like you don’t care if you live or die?”

His smirk faded, and for a moment, he looked impossibly small. “Maybe ‘cause... I don’t,” he admitted, his eyes slipping shut.

“No. No, no, no.” You shook him gently, panic clawing at your chest. “Ben, open your eyes. Look at me. You’re not doing this. You’re not giving up.”

“Why not?” he murmured. “World doesn’t need me. Hell, no one does.”

Tears blurred your vision as you cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. “I need you, you idiot. I need you. So you’re going to stay with me, you hear? You’re going to fight. Because I can’t do this without you.”

Something flickered in his eyes at your words, a spark of emotion that he quickly tried to bury. But it was too late; you’d seen it. For once, he couldn’t hide.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered, his voice broken. “You should hate me. Everyone else does.”

“You think I hate you?” Your voice cracked, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “Ben, if I hated you, do you think I’d be here right now? Do you think I’d be holding you together with my bare hands, begging you to stay alive?”

He didn’t answer, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the lie. When he didn’t find one, his breath hitched, and he looked away, ashamed.

“I don’t deserve this,” he muttered. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Well, too bad,” you said fiercely. “Because you’ve got me. And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

For a moment, the only sound was the ragged sound of his breathing. Then, slowly, he lifted a hand, his fingers brushing weakly against yours. It was the smallest gesture, but it spoke volumes.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he murmured, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

“And you’re a stubborn bastard,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. “So let’s call it even.”

As you worked to stabilize him, your mind raced. You couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not when you hadn’t had the chance to tell him everything you’d kept bottled up for so long.

But for now, all you could do was hold on and hope he did the same

[im-sleepdeprived]

Seasonal • Pt. 1

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: inspired by the taylor swift song ‘peter’, you’ve known peter parker pretty much your whole life but after an incident one evening, you two become closer than ever

a/n: ahhhhh here is the long awaited ‘Peter’ inspired fic !!! (i changed the name obvs but you’ll get why i chose this one later) this is actually pretty slow (in my opinion, compared to what’s to come duh) but its cute and I really enjoyed writing it, i hope you guys enjoy reading. also TOTALLY feel free to tell me what you think and what you might like to see !! i always love some feedback

warnings: awkward teens lmfao (they’re such cutie pies), there’s some mention of injuries, but dw I made it funny, mostly building up for what’s to come later, fluff (for now lol) !!

masterlist, requests are open !!

There were few certainties in life. Tuesday followed Monday, Five plus five equals ten, and you had no shot in hell with Peter Parker. 

You’d known each other for most of your lives, going to the same schools, and growing up in the same neighborhoods, until eventually, sometime around the start of freshman year, he and his Aunt moved into your apartment building. 

You still remembered the excitement your little teen self had felt as you’d watched them move their things in. You remembered thinking his aunt looked like the sweetest woman in the world. And Peter…well he looked like the sweetestboy in your world. The boy of your dreams. 

Dreams you always kept to yourself of course. 

Dreams that suddenly, didn’t feel so far away, and for once in your life you felt like maybe, just maybe, you had the tiniest shot at having something with him. Something real. 

It all started one day after school. 

You’d had a long day. Longer than usual. 

Classes had been tough with exams coming up and you were stressed out from all the notes you had to make sure you had, to the homework that needed to be done, to the piles upon piles of books you needed to read, study, and memorize parts of. It was a lot. 

So, naturally, you weren’t really aware of your surroundings as you were walking home that evening. You’d been cramming in the library and you hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, but of course, that didn’t stop you from continuing your studying on the way home. With a book in hand, you made your way through the streets.

Of course, it was New York. So, of course, that wouldn’t fly. Faster than you could blink, someone had grabbed your bag and was running off. you stood there, mouth gaping. Fuck, your keys were in there and your parents weren’t home. How the hell were you going to-

“Here you go ma’am, sorry about him, he has daddy issues,” Spider-Man said to you with a wave of his hands. Spider-Man. You didn’t reply at first. 

“Y’know, you should be more of your surroundings,” he said gently this time. “Maybe put the book away for now? I don’t know, just a suggestion.” He absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged slightly. 

You’d know that voice anywhere. It was the voice you daydreamed about, the voice you heard across the hall, the voice you’d been hearing basically all your life. But that action, that little quirk, confirmed everything you were just thinking. 

“Peter?”

“WHAT?” The white eyes of his mask were blown wide. “No. Nuh-uh, I don’t even know anyone named Peter. Sounds like a douchey name if you ask me.”

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so shocked. “Peter I know what you sound like,” your voice was soft so no one around you could hear. It was late and this particular street was pretty deserted but you figured you couldn’t be too careful. 

He was quiet for a moment before sighing and bringing both hands to rub at the face of his mask. He grumbled. “Ok fine, it is me. But Y/N you can’t tell anyone, I mean anyone, okay? Otherwise, this whole thing is ruined.”

You felt a pang in your chest. You knew you weren’t the best of friends or anything, but you’d known each other for a long time and you thought there was a certain respect that came with that. Of course you weren’t going to go around yelling out his secret. 

“I would never do that. Actually, I’m sorry I said anything, that was stupid. We can forget this ever happened. Thanks for the bag,” you held it up for emphasis, “I needed my keys.” You moved to walk past him but he grabbed your shoulder.

“Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to totally freak out on you it’s just…no one knows about this. And I don’t want them to know. It would complicate things.”

“Things like what? Like running around in a bright onesie and calling yourself a man when you’re barely a teenager?” You replied in a teasing tone, hoping he wouldn’t feel as bad that you figured him out so quick.

He laughed. “Among other things, yeah. What book are you reading anyway?” He asked, nodding to the book you still held in your hand and you wondered if he was trying to change the subject. 

You figured you’d let him. Holding up the book, you replied, “‘Biology: A Self-Teaching Guide’,” you smiled sarcastically. “It’s self-teaching because Mr. Harrington is shit at his job!”

Peter cackled. “I know exactly what you mean. You know, the other day he spent the last thirty minutes of class checking his fantasy football? Class is forty-five minutes!”

You shook your head, smiling slightly. “I wonder how he still has his job,” you mused. 

“Oh, that’s easy, no one is reporting him because no one minds. He lets every do as they  please so they all love him.”

“True.” You laughed. Some time since you’d started talking, you’d both started walking towards your building. 

“Are you walking me home now?” You held your breath. Obviously, he had every right to just swing away right then but…you hoped he didn’t.

“Well you obviously can’t be trusted to walk alone, honestly I really think that if I left right now, you’d open that book back up and walk into a lamppost.”

You threw your head back laughing. “Okay,” you held up both your hands in surrender, “fair enough.”

And while you’ve both known each other for a long time, you truly think that this walk was when you really clicked with Peter. He was funny, he was smart, and he was obviously the most selfless person you knew if he spent all his free time ridding New York’s streets of criminals without anyone giving him credit. 

When you reached your apartment building, you wished you hadn’t. You could’ve spent all night talking to him and youwere scared that once you walked through those doors things would go back to polite smiles and quiet ‘heys’. You didn’t want that. 

“Hey…if that ever happens again, and I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t,” he gestured to his suit, “but if it does and you lose your keys or something, you can always hang out at mine. If you want to of course.”

“You wanna hang out?” You asked confused

He seemed to have taken it the wrong way. “Oh! I didn’t mean to sound weird, I was just thinking-”

“Yes!” You blurted out, your face heating up. “I mean, yeah hanging out sounds cool. Maybe even…if I still have my keys?”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds great. Obviously I didn’t mean you had to be locked out to hang out but yeah…” He scratched the back of his neck again and you imagined his cheeks flaming up just like yours under his mask. 

“Cool,” you nodded. 

“Cool,” he nodded back. 

You two stared at each other for a while. 

“Well, I should…” You jutted your thumb at the door as your voice trailed off. At least he wanted to see you again. That meant something, right?

“Right. Yeah, of course. See ya later Y/N.” He waved and you returned it. 

“See you later Peter,” your hand flew up to your mouth. “Shit. Sorry, um, I’ll see you- I mean bye Spider-Man.” Idiot. 

You rushed to through the door, leaving a smiling Peter in your wake. 

You were psyched Peter wanted to hang out with you on more casual terms. It was all you’d dreamed of for as long as you could remember. You’re little crush on him dated back further than you could really remember, but you knew it started sometime back in kindergarten. So you were rightfully excited that things were finally progressing, you just weren’t expecting it to happen so soon.

Later that day you were sitting in your room when suddenly you heard a tap on your window. Peter, fully decked out in his Spider-Man suit, was perched on your fire escape. 

Your brows furrowed but you rushed over to let him in. “Um, hey? What’s up?”

“Oh nothing much, same old same old. You?” He said casually as if you’d known each other your whole lives. Well, you kinda had. But still.

You stared at him a bit before you heard a dripping noise. At first you thought it was rain. And then you realized it wasn’t raining, nor had it rained at all recently. You looked down to see blood dripping. From Peter. Blood was dripping from Peter onto your fire escape. Shit. 

“It’s okay. It’s not that bad honestly.” He said lightly, but you noticed the slight edge to his voice. It definitely was that bad. 

You wanted to freak out. You wanted to tell him to go to a hospital so he could get proper treatment but you had a feeling he wouldn’t listen. 

“Peter,” you said, your voice soft but urgent. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re the only one who knows. I wanted to see a familiar face right now and if I went to see anyone else it would take too much explaining,” he shuffled around on your fire escape, wincing as he did so. He finally settled, leaning his backagainst the railing and laying his feet in front of him. He ripped off his mask, “I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t wanna freak you out. This was just the first place I thought of and-”

“No no no. It’s okay! Better than you passing out in some alley somewhere.”

“Exactly, you get it!” 

You side-eyed him. “Y’know, I think you’re too enthusiastic for someone who looks like they had sex with a cheese grater.”

He chuckled. “Funny. You’re real funny, you know that. Sex with a cheese grater,” he mumbled, leaning his head back. He chuckled again. “That’s hilarious.”

“Okay….alright just…..” You worried your hands. You had less than no clue what to do. But you had to figure out something. Soon. Otherwise, you’d have a dead teenage boy on your fire escape and you really didn’t know how you would explain that to your parents, and you didn’t want to figure it out.

You held up your hands. “Wait here and I’ll be right back.”

“I can’t imagine where I might go right now, but alright.” You heard him mumble under his breath, his head lolling to one side. You would’ve sasses him right back if you were so worried. You had to admit, it was admirable how he still managed to cling to his humor even when he was so hurt. 

You ran to the shared bathroom in your apartment, making sure to keep quiet so as not to wake anyone. Things were already hard enough. 

You grabbed an old first aid kit (you’d always thought it was stupid and unnecessary to carry around but here it was, saving your ass) before making your way back to your room. You closed the door and locked it for good measure before crawling out of your window and sitting on your knees beside him. 

“Ok. I’m gonna need you to help me though, do you think you could do that?”

He nodded softly and you got to work. It was nerve-racking but you got through it. Peter helped a lot, explaining what needed mending, and what would be fine being left alone. “I heal faster.” He’d explained to you and you had no choice but to believe him. 

When you’d finished you went to the kitchen and poured both of you cups of lemonade. “You should probably be drinking water or tea or something but oh well.” You shrugged as you stepped out of your window again, handing him the cup and settling on the other side of the fire escape. 

“I prefer this.” He said as he took the cup from you. “Thanks.”

“No thank you,” you said in a serious voice. “For serving this city.” You placed your now empty hand on your heart and bowed your head in respect. 

“Shut up,” he said, but he was laughing. You laughed as well. “So how did the whole Spider-Man thing start? Last I remember you were just little Petey in the robotics club.”

“Still in the robotics club, but somewhere in the midst of that I got bit by a radioactive spider.” He went off, telling you the whole story and you listened with both ears, tuned into his every word. It was crazy to you that the boy across the hall, the boy you’d known since you were children, had been through all of this. Alone. Your heart broke a little for him at that moment and you were glad he finally had someone he could talk to about this, even if it was just you. 

“Wow.” You shook your head in disbelief after he’d finished. “Not really sure where you got the whole ‘I need to put on a suit and get out there!’ attitude after being bedridden from a spider bite for a whole day, but good for you!”

He let out a loud laugh. “Alright Ace, enough about me. Tell me something about you.”

“Ace?” You asked with a furrow in your brows. 

He shook his head smiling, “Think it suits you, don’t you?”

Your face lit on fire. You looked down at your hands, “Um, well there’s not really much. What do you wanna know?”

“Anything. What are you interested in, something you’ve never told anyone?”

You peered over the fire escape railing and looked up at the sky. “Stars.”

“Stars?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Stars. Constellations. They all have stories, they’re named after certain things. People used to use them as guides when they traveled! But it’s stupid, I mean,” you scoffed, “we live in New York. There’s no regular stars here, let alone constellations.”

He stared at you for a while and you stared feeling nervous. He probably thought you were weird for bringing that up, how fucking random to just start going off about stars, normals people are interested in sports, art—

He started nodding, “Tell you what, when I’m healed, which won't be long, we’re gonna go see some stars.”

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

He chuckled at your expression, all he could think was how cute he thought you looked. “Yeah, you heard me. We’re gonna go see some stars. Consider it a thank you for helping me today.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You don’t need to thank me for anything Pete, I’d help you no matter what.”

Now it was his turn to flush. “Thank you,” he said in a sincere voice. “But fine. Just think of it as two friends stargazing together.” He grinned.

Friends. That sounded nice. “Wait I didn’t know you could drive?”

He grinned even wider before standing up. You followed his lead, making sure he didn’t hurt himself in any way. “Thanks for everything Ace, but I think that’s enough for now.”

He moved to jump off the balcony but you stopped him, “Wait! At least use the front door, everyone’s asleep.” 

He slipped his mask back on and quickly shook his head, “Thanks but May’s asleep and I don’t wanna risk it.”

You nodded. “Right. Well bye then, and if you need anything Peter, you know where to find me.”

“Ditto,” he said, moving to stand on the railing of your fire escape. He gave you a two-finger salute. “G’night Ace.”

“Goodnight Pete-” your hands flew up to your mouth and you had to hold back a scream as you watched him completelyfall backward off your fire escape. “What the fuck!” You whisper-shouted, moving to the railing just in time to see him swinging away. 

“Son of a bitch,” you whispered softly and you could’ve sworn you heard him laugh. 

“Peter there’s no way I’m doing that.”

“C’mon Ace, I do it all the time!”

“That’s not the same and you know it! Have you ever tried swinging around the whole city with someone else?”

He went quiet for a moment. “Well, not around the whole city per se, but…I’ve swung while holding someone!”

“How long?” You deadpanned. 

He looked down and mumbled something incoherent. 

“How. Long.” You repeated. 

“Like, around the block maybe?” He looked at you sheepishly. 

You scoffed, “Peter fucking Parker I can’t believe you're trying to get me to agree to letting you drop me from thousands of feet in the air!”

“Hey come on! If I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t ask for permission, I would just do it.”

You narrow your eyes at him and he raises both his hands. It’d been a week since the night on your fire escape and Peter was fully healed. He really did heal faster than average because when you’d asked him to see the wound, it had been completely gone. Not even a scar was left.

“Y’know, if you wanted me to take my shirt off Ace, you could’ve just asked.” He’d said with a boyish smirk. 

“You fucking wish dipshit.” You had shoved him away but you couldn’t help the little smile working its way onto your face. 

You’d spent time together after that night, walking to school together, Peter popping by after patrol if you were still awake to just hang out for a bit. It was great. Until now. 

Peter had decided it was time for him to make good on his promise to take you to see the stars and you were refusing. 

“Please Ace, let me do this.” He gave you a little pout making you bite your lip in consideration. He tried not to smile, he was winning and he knew it. 

Silence. And then, “Where are we even going?” Bingo. 

He didn’t try to hide his grin now. “You’ll see. I know a place, it’s perfect for something like this.” He approached you and his voice turned sincere. “And I promise I won’t drop you, trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“How can I trust you when you just told me the furthest you’ve ever swung with someone was a block,” you grumbled, but you didn’t push him away when he moved to hold you. 

“Enough complaining,” he said as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Arms around my neck Ace, hold tight.”

He suddenly pulled you in, clinging to you tighter than before and you had just started to think maybe this wasn’t so bad. But then he jumped. And you screamed. 

Your stomach fell and you kept thinking you’d hit the pavement, he’d swing too low, or maybe he’d accidentally run into a building he hadn’t noticed. But when none of those things happened it actually became sort of…fun. 

“I can’t believe I’m riding Spider-Man!” You screamed, thinking he wouldn’t hear you because of the wind but you were proven wrong when you heard him hollering with laughter. 

You smiled as you clung to him. You should have trusted him at the start although there were times when he would dip lower than normal and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was doing it on purpose because every time he did, you clutched him even tighter.

Soon, the ruckus of the city seemed to die down and you could hear the thwip of his webs clearer than before. It wasn’t long after that you were landing on a tall hill making you wonder just how fast he could get around with those webs. 

Peter set you down and you immediately missed being in his arms. But then you turned around. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered. You could see the entire New York skyline and it was stunning. This city really was beautiful, it wasn’t for everyone, but it would always own a special place in your heart. 

You heard Peter chuckle beside you before he placed his hands on your shoulders. “I know, but that’s not what we’re here for Ace.” He pulled you a bit, making your head lean back. And then you understood. 

“Oh my god,” you said, louder than before. The stars were glittering above you both, the sky like a sparkling black fabric shielding you both. “They’re real!”

Peter laughed again. “I know right?” 

You looked back at him. “Peter this is….I don’t even have words for how amazing this is. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

His heart melted at that moment. He gave you a smile so soft it reminded you of fluffy clouds and soft ice cream on a hot summer day. “You like it?” He asked almost as if he wasn’t expecting you to. 

You looked at him in disbelief. “Do I like it? Of course, I do! It's beautiful! How’d you find this place anyway?”

He shrugged, “Oh y’know, just found it while I was swinging along one day. But hey,” he said quickly, making you question if that was how he actually found this place. “Look I set up a place for us.”

You decided not to question him any further and you let him lead you through a few overgrown bushes until you reached a small clearing. There lay a small picnic blanket with snacks and drinks set up.

You look back at him. “Are you for real right now?”

His mouth falls open. “I’m sorry! I—I didn’t mean-”

You pulled him into a hug. “Thank you so much, Peter. I mean…wow, I just…wow.”

He held you even tighter. “You don’t need to thank me, honestly I’ve been waiting for forever to go on a date with you soreally thank you for even being here-”

You went slack in his arms and Peter had never wanted to beat himself up more than he did in that moment. You pulled away and looked up at him with questioning eyes, “Date?”

Peter blanched, you never knew someone could look so pale, yet be blushing so much at the same time. He was gaping like a fish, his mouth kept opening and closing as if words were supposed to be coming out, they just weren’t reaching your ears. 

“Because,” you continued, deciding you needed to step up and help him out a little, “a date sounds good. Really good. I’d just like to be aware of the fact that I’m on one.”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “Are you—are you sure? Cause I can just shut up and we can totally pretend that never happened.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m sure. If you are, of course.”

“Yes! I mean—” He scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “I’m sorry I just made this really weird didn’t I?”

You laughed again and gently placed your hands on his shoulder, making sure to look him dead in the eyes. “Peter,” you made sure he was listening. “S’not weird. At least, I don’t think it is. Okay, so we’re on a date! Love that for us. The onlything I would’ve changed is my outfit.” You looked down and pouted. “First time I’ve gone out with someone in my pajamas.”

“Well, I love it. I think you look beautiful.” He grinned. He seemed to have relaxed a little after your reassurances. 

You looked down to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. “Yeah yeah, save the flattery for the second date.”

“Will do.” He laughed and grabbed your hand. He led you to the picnic blanket and moved some things around. You realized he must’ve come here earlier to get things ready and your heart warmed at the thought. 

Peter set out the snacks and drinks and the two of 

“Here lay down,” he said to you after he’d cleared things out of your way. 

“God Parker, at least buy me dinner first.” You rolled your eyes dramatically but obeyed and laid flat on your back.  

“What do you think all that was?” He shot back with a grin. 

You shrugged as you settled yourself on the blanket and he moved to lay next to you. “More of a midnight snack.”

He laughed, “Noted.”

You turned your head towards him and nudged him a little with your elbow, getting him to look back. “So…what are we doing.”

He laughed again. “We’re stargazing Ace, that was kinda the whole point.”

“Oh, right, right.” You nodded and went quiet.

“What’re you thinking?” He asked. 

“Star stuff.”

“What do you mean ‘star stuff’?” He asked, voice full of poorly concealed laughter. 

“Like the fact that I don’t know shit about stars.” You admitted. 

He chuckled beside you before bringing his head right beside yours. “Okay see that really bright star with a bunch ofother stars crowding around it?” He pointed until you got it. 

When you nodded he said, “What does that tell you?”

“That it’s an extrovert?” You leaned back to look at him.

“No,” he shook his head smiling. “That’s Rigel. It’s a blue supergiant star in the constellation of Orion. And actually,” he shuffled a little closer. “See those three big stars all next to each other?”

You nodded, forgetting all the jokes and focusing on everything he was saying. 

“That’s Orion's belt,” he continued. “Each of those three stars is actually way bigger, and brighter than the sun.”

“Woah,” you looked at him wide-eyed. “Where’d you learn all this?”

“Oh y’know,” he waved a hand casually. 

You gaped. You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him. “I absolutely do not know. First, I thought you were just Peter Parker. Then, I find out you’re also Spider-Man. And then, I find out you’re Peter Parker, Spider-Man, and also, extremely well-informed on star stuff!”

He laughed, There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me yet Ace.”

You nodded softly. “That’s true. We should change that.”

He looked deep into your eyes and you saw something like wonder in them. “Yeah?” He asked

“Mhm.” You poked him softly in the side. “Wanna know you, Peter Parker. All of you, from the dorky lego-obsessed-kid to the nerdy science genius who secretly fights crime.”

He grinned so wide and you swore it was brighter than any star in the galaxy. You were completely content with this being your view for the rest of the night. “Alright, come here,” he tugged you down making you squeal as he held you in his arms. 

“Hey, eyes on the sky Ace,” he said when he caught you staring.

You blushed and rolled your eyes, “Fine, whatever. I don’t wanna look at you anyway.” The complete opposite of what you were just thinking.

He smirked as if he knew too. “Sure thing babe. Now let me dazzle you with more star stuff.”

The ‘ride’ (if you could even call it that) back to your place was quiet and peaceful, and a part of you thought it was a tad bit longer than the way there

Peter landed softly on your fire escape but he didn’t let go of you just yet and you weren’t in a hurry to end the night. 

“So…we’re here.” Said Peter, his voice a bit muffled from the mask. You nodded and reached up, carefully working it off his head. 

“Thank you,” you said, hoping your voice conveyed the sincerity you felt. Everything about tonight was perfect and you hoped he felt the same. 

He smiled softly. “You already said that.”

You nodded. “Maybe. But it doesn’t hurt to say it again. I had an amazing time Peter.”

“Even though you were in your pajamas and you didn’t know it was a date? Well, not at first.” He gave you a questioning look, almost looking unsure. 

You grinned, “Especially because of those things. I don’t know,” you shrugged, “thinks it makes us unique.”

“And if wanted to do something that’s not so unique for the end of a first date?” He gulped. “Figured I kinda owed you something basic about tonight…unless you don’t want to?”

“Peter Parker, are you asking if you can kiss me?” You smiled up at him and he blushed all the way down to his neck. He mumbled something you couldn’t make out. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” You turned your head and leaned in dramatically and you heard him sigh. “Isaidifthatsokaywithyou.” He rushed out. 

You pulled away and stared up at him. “That’s more than okay with me actually.”

He didn’t waste a second. His hands that were resting lightly on your waist gripped you tighter and you grabbed his face, his mask that was in your hand falling to the floor. He captured your lips in an urgent kiss but it was somehow soft at the same time. It felt as if he’d just been waiting to get this chance and now he was savoring it and trying to memorize every part. 

You both pulled away breathlessly. His face was flushed and he looked so cute you had to lean in and give him a few softer pecks. He grinned so wide that you started to laugh. “Why’d you stop?” He asked. 

You laughed harder. “I can't kiss you when you're smiling so hard!”

“Ok ok fine I’ll stop!” He tried to keep a straight face but it didn’t last for 5 seconds before he was grinning again. He rubbed a hand over his face while you giggled at him. “Sorry if I’m super psyched I got to kiss you, I mean look at you.”

That got you to stop laughing and you felt your face start to heat up. You leaned over and landed a big smooch on hischeek. Peter turned pink. “Okay see, that was really great Ace but I really wanna kiss you.”

You smiled, “Then kiss me, bug boy.”

He started to lean in but you pulled back at the last minute, “Hey wait. Did we take longer on the way back than we took going? Or was that just me?”

“Oh that,” he nodded. “Air traffic.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Air traffic?”

Peter cleared his throat, “Look I’m the designated driver, or swinger, I know what’s going on. You don’t need to worry about it Ace, I’ve got it covered. Now I need your lips covering mine, right now.”

“Fine whatever,” you rolled your eyes with affection and leaned in. 

Things couldn’t be more perfect in your life. 

After you and Peter had made things official, he’d invited you over a few times to spend time with May, and you’d asked the same of him with your parents. Of course, your parents knew who Peter was, and May definitely knew who you were (she’d told you as much and you started to wonder if Peter’s crush might date back almost as far as yours. There was a chance) but it was different now that you two were together. 

“Is she gonna make you leave the door cracked?” You whispered as Peter led you by the hand through his apartment and to his bedroom. You two had just gotten back from school and you were going to work on your homework together. Homework which would mostly consist of the two of you making out on his bedroom floor. 

He scoffed. “No. She trusts us.”

“Mhm,” you pondered. “And that has nothing to do with the fact that you asked her to stop embarrassing you when I’m over?” You entered the room and Peter closed the door behind you, but not before he gave you a look. 

You shrugged and smirked a bit as you placed your bag on his floor and started pulling out your textbooks. “Did she say something to you?” He asked. 

Your smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “Y’know I’m actually starting to think she likes me more than you.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s started, amazing.”

“What’s started?”

“The two of you ganging up on me,” He grumbled which made you laugh out loud. You reached over and squished his face with one hand, your thumb on one cheek, and the rest of your fingers on the other. “You’re adorable when you’re grumpy.”

You felt him fighting off a smile under your fingers. “Adorable enough for a kiss?”

“You can always get a kiss from me, Petey.”

He gave you a serious look. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

You returned his seriousness with a solemn look of your own. “I hope you do.”

Just as he started to lean in, the door to his room burst open, making you jump away so fast you fell on your back. 

“Hey, kids!” You scrambled back up as May entered the room. “I just wanted to make sure you guys were…okay. Are you okay?”

Peter threw his hands up in exasperation, “May!” 

She held her hands out and quickly said, “I’m sorry! Sorry, but I also wanted to tell you I’m going out and I won’t be here. So be responsible.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re just going to do some homework.”

She nodded, “Yeah okay, and I totally believe you!” She started inching towards the door. Placing a hand on the frame shesaid, “Pete, remember our talk.” Peter went red. But before he could stop her she went on, “Use protection.”

She flew out the door, leaving you wide-eyed and Peter as red as a tomato. It was quiet between you two for a moment before you decided on what to say. “Soooo….your aunt definitely thinks we’re fucking.”

Peter looked mortified. “Ace I am so sorry-”

“No, it’s okay! Fair assumption, I mean, we are teenagers so it's kinda of what we’re known for right now. Plus, she’s only looking out for us.”

“You’re not mad?” He asked worriedly.

“Why would I be mad Pete? She was actually super chill about it, my parents would’ve dragged you out of the apartment.” He laughed but there was something else on your mind. “Can I ask you something though?”

“Anything,” he answered quickly. 

You smiled, “Have you um—Have you ever…” You trailed off but you knew he understood what you were getting at.

‘OH! Well, no but yes?” You gave him a weird look. “So I mean like…I’ve done stuff but not all the stuff. Y’know?”

You nodded. “Have you…ever?” His voice was quiet as if he were afraid you’d shun him for even daring to ask. 

“Not all the stuff,” you answered simply. 

“Okay,” he looked down, unable to meet your eyes, and you weren’t quite sure what to say at the moment either.

“Do you think-” he still wasn’t looking at you as he tried to finish his sentence, “do you think we…we…Do you?”

“Yes. Probably.” That got him to look up.

“Really?”

“Well not right now obviously-”

“Oh of course not,” he cut you off quickly. “But like…eventually? Do you see yourself being with me like that? Trusting me enough?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Now it was your turn to avoid his gaze. “Do you? See yourself trusting me and…whatever.”

He laughed a little. “Yeah, I do.”

“Cool.” You nodded quickly and cleared your throat. “So I actually had a question about this science problem.” You held up one of the worksheets you were sent home with.

“Oh no, you’re not switching the subject that easily.” He gave you a knowing look.

“No,” you faked offense. “Can a girl not ask her genius boyfriend a science-related question?”

“No,” he said simply. “You still owe me a kiss.”

You rolled your eyes, “I think we’re forgetting what really matters here.”

“Me?” Peter suggested.

“Homework.”

Next thing you knew, he had tackled you and had you pinned you on the floor. 

“Wait! No stop!” You yelled when you felt his hands creeping up your sides. You’d made the mistake of telling Peter you’re ticklish and boy had he been using it against you. 

He grinned with triumph. He knew he’d won but that didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna milk it. “Are you gonna give me kisses?” He leaned over you, letting his nose brush yours as some of his longer curls fell onto your face. 

“I really like these,” you whispered as your hand moved up to play with them. Your tone was more sincere now, completely forgetting the game you were playing and completely focusing on Peter’s hair. It was getting a little longer than usual and you adored it. 

“Yeah? I’ve been meaning to get it cut but I haven’t had a chance. Between school and Spider-Man-”

“No! Don’t cut them please,” you begged, eyes suddenly wide in horror at the fact that he was even thinking of chopping off his beautiful curls. 

“Really? Didn’t know you liked them that much.” He gave you a boyish grin.

“I treasure them as if they were my own,” you said sincerely making him shake with laughter. “So you wouldn’t even be cutting your hair Petey, you’d be cutting our hair.”

He laughed again, “Fine you win! I won’t be cutting it anytime soon, but I’m gonna need you to hold up on your kissespromise.”

“Yay! I love you!” You leaned up to kiss him where he hovered over you but he pulled away. You pouted slightly, howdare he give you such a hard time about kisses and then not accept them?!

“You love me?” He asked quietly. You froze. Why did you have to say that? Sure you two had been together for a while now and you’d known each other for even longer but…what if he didn’t feel the same? What if you had just ruined everything?

“Um…” You tried to move out from under him but he kept his arms locked around you. You were stuck, there was nothing to do other than talk. “Look Pete, I don’t want you to feel weird-”

“But do you love me?” He insisted. 

You sighed and turned your head. You might not be able to get away but that didn’t mean you had to look him in the face while you embarrassed yourself. “Yes.”

“Good.” He leaned down until your noses were touching again, “Because I love you too.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Really?”

He chuckled softly, “Think I’ve loved you for a lot longer than you’ve loved me, Ace.” He leaned down and closed the distance between you, finally getting that kiss he’d been after you for. 

“Now do a pose!” Peter yelled over as he squinted through his camera. 

You rolled your eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Peter, we’re in public, can we please stop now?”

The two of you were taking an after-school stroll through Central Park. It was autumn now and the scenery was absolutely gorgeous and Peter had demanded to take pictures of you the whole time. School had started back up almost a week ago and already the two of you were facing the heat of your senior year.

“Oh come on,” he jogged back to you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “Gotta get used to me showing you off Ace,” he pressed kissed the side of your head. “This what it’s going to be like when we go to school together.”

“We already go to school together.” You smirked at him. 

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “You know what I mean Ace,” he squeezed your shoulder softly. “I mean when we go to Columbia.”

You looked up at him with a smile so wide there was no way you could hide it. “I know,” you said softly. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either.” He smiled back. 

The two of you had discussed schools and where you’d be going. You spent a lot of your time during summer going overthe pros and cons of different universities and settled on going to Columbia. Of course, you weren’t just going for each other, but that was definitely a perk. 

It was perfect, really. Peter was planning on majoring in biophysics (a major you’d told him you thought was created just for him, two of his best subjects combined) and they had the perfect courses for that, not to mention their photography classes. He’d done a ton of research on them already. It was a hobby of his you’d learned about shortly after the two of you had gotten together, and you had to admit, he was really good. And he was only getting better.

And you were planning on majoring in Journalism, with a minor in English. You and Peter had a joke where he’d be making the groundbreaking scientific discoveries and you would be writing the award-winning articles about it. 

“I know you’re gonna make me sound smart,” he’d said smugly. “And sexy.”

You’d laughed at him. “Peter, how am I supposed to make you sound sexy?”

“I don't know, but as an amazing writer, that’s for you to figure out Ace.”

“I’m not a journalist yet.”

He winked. “But you will be.”

You bit your lip at the memory. You had this small fear (or silly as Peter had put it when you’d voiced it to him) that you wouldn’t get into Columbia. You weren’t even worried about Peter, you were pretty sure he’d get into every school he’d enrolled in. The boy was a genius after all. 

“Hey,” he said softly. He stopped walking, pulling you to a stop as well. Pulling his camera strap over his head, he stood in front of you and grabbed both of your hands. You looked down. 

“Uh uh,” he shook his head and tsked as he moved one of his hands to hold your chin between the knuckle of his index finger and his thumb. “Look at me,” he said and gently pulled your head up. “I know what that look means.”

You shook your head a little. “Means nothing. What do you mean?”

He gave you a sad smile. “I don’t like when you think like that y’know. I don’t want you upsetting yourself.” You didn’t answer so he continued. “Fine. It’s just up to me to distract you then.” He pulled away to grab one of your hands, intertwine your fingers together, and start walking again. He started to swing them back and forth dramatically. 

You giggled, which made him smile. His plan was already working. “Oh, by the way, I’m taking you out tonight.”

“What?” You asked. You didn’t remember making any plans for tonight.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna pick you up and we’re going to our spot. I was thinking around 10.” Your ‘spot’. The place where Peter had taken you on your first date, where you hadn’t known it was a date at first and had shown up in your pajamas. The two of you had kept going back since that initial night. Most of your summer nights (and sometimes early mornings and even afternoons) were spent up there, gazing at the stars, and talking about your futures. That place had grown to mean so much to the both of you and it held the sentiment of more than one of your firsts together. 

“Are you sure you won’t be busy, y’know with Spider-Man or school or something?” You looked up at him questioningly. Of course, you wanted to spend time together but you didn’t want him worrying about cheering you up so much that he slacked on his own stuff. 

He slapped a hand on his chest and feigned offense. “I’m sorry, what is this I’m hearing? You don’t wanna hang out with your boyfriend Ace?”

“No of course it’s not that,” you laughed and shoved him lightly. “I just don’t want you feeling like you need to spend time with me when you have so many other responsibilities.”

Peter laughed and shook his head. “No way. You can’t seriously think like that Ace.” He gave you a side-eye and sighed. “Maybe you really aren’t smart enough to get into Columbia.”

“Peter!” You shrieked and slapped his shoulder while he hunched over with laughter. You couldn’t help it, you joined him. 

Once he’d calmed down he straightened himself back up and looked at you with such adoration in his eyes, you nearly melted. He grabbed one of your hands and brought the knuckles up to his lips. “You know I’m only joking Ace, you’redefinitely getting in. In fact, they’re probably getting your place ready as we speak.”

You threw your head back and laughed. “Pete I haven’t even applied.”

“Exactly! You’re so amazing, you don’t even have to apply, they totally want you.” He wiggled his brows suggestively making you snort. You shoved him forward to continue your walk. “Enough about school for now,” you looked at him. “You said we’re going out tonight?”

“Oh yeah,” he grinned at you and you saw the nerdy part of him he tends to be a little insecure about. You’d told him multiple times it was your favorite part. You absolutely loved it when he started ranting about something he loved. “So there’s some new-” He shook his head quickly. “Actually, I’ll keep it a surprise and tell you when we’re there.”

You gaped at him, about to demand he tell you right now what he was about to say but before you could get the words outhe was positioning you infant of a tree bursting with different shades of orange, red, and yellow. New York really was beautiful in the fall. 

“I need some more pictures for my portfolio,” he said as he backed up a few steps. “Also, I’m loving today’s outfit.” He winked at you. 

You looked down. You weren’t wearing anything special, just a sweater, a pair of soft, baggy jeans, and some Converse.You were pulling down your sleeves when you realized what he meant. It was his sweater. You grinned, “Fine. A few more, and then you’re done.” You waved a finger at him. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered and snapped a few pics. He pulled the camera away for a moment. “Stop looking so grumpy Ace, c’mere.” He walked toward you and grabbed your hand. He started leading you onto the grass which was completely blanketed in colored leaves. “I need you to lay down.”

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” You held your hands up. 

“Wait, no. Hear me out, Ace. I need to share my artistic vision.” You rolled your eyes but that didn’t stop him. “I’m gonna have you lay down in the leaves, look how bright and pretty they are! You lay down, let your hair down and spread it out a bit, and smile!” He punctuated his sentence with his own smile. 

You stared at him for a bit before grumbling, “You are so lucky I love you.” Sighing, you moved to lie on the ground in front of him while he grinned above you holding his camera eagerly. “Y’know the only reason I’m so okay with this isbecause this is your sweater.”

“S’alright,” he casually waved a hand as he checked something on his camera screen. “You can have it, it’s yours now.”

“What?”

“Well it’s been on the ground of Central Park, I sure as hell don’t want it.”

You burst into laughter. You didn’t even realize he was taking photos until you opened your eyes to see his camera lens in your face. After a few more clicks and him instructing you on some different poses, he leaned back and held out a hand. You ignored him and pushed yourself onto your feet, dusting off your clothes.

When you looked back at him, he was looking at you with a hurt expression and you almost felt bad for rejecting his hand. “You said you don’t want anything that’s been on the ground of Central Park.” You joked. 

Next thing you knew he had you in a hug, holding you tight. “I’ll always want you, Ace.”

He pulled away, “No matter what dirty part of New York you just came out of.” He tried to kiss your cheek but you shoved him away. 

“Absolutely not!” You yelled and started running away from him. 

“Wait Ace, come back.” You could hear him behind you laughing, as he chased you. You knew logically, with his superpowers and all, he could absolutely outrun you if he felt like it. And it seemed like he felt like it. 

After about a minute of chasing you, he started gaining speed. Next thing you knew, he had picked you up and he was dragging back to the ground with him. 

“Peter let me go,” you tried to shove him away, but it was no use, the boy had an iron grip. 

“No. We’re gonna be gross together.” He rolled around a bit in his spot for emphasis. 

You laughed at him. “You are such a weirdo.”

He grinned at you and this time succeeded in kissing your cheek. “Maybe. But I’m your weirdo.”

You rolled your eyes. ��Thank god for that, I don’t think anyone else could handle you.”

He kissed your lips this time. “I don’t want anyone to handle me. Just want you.”

“Good, 'cause you’re stuck with me.”

“So what’s the special thing you couldn’t tell me about until now?”

You were currently lying on your back, with Peter’s arm under your head as the both of you gazed at the sky. 

“Well, it’s nothing crazy, but there’s a new star I wanted to show you.” He replied, which made your brows furrow in confusion. “New star?” You asked. “How the hell can there be a new star?” You gasped, “Oh my god did Orion knock a girl up?”

Peter laughed beside you, “No. No, okay so, there are these things called seasonal constellations.”

“Alright,” you nodded as if you had any idea what he was getting at. You had learned a lot about astronomy (or star stuffas you two had taken to calling it) since your first night here with Peter, but he still had some things on you. 

“Basically, stars are always in the sky, right? But we can’t see them because of the Sun. If it weren’t for the Sun, everyone would be able to see all the stars, all the time. But because the Earth is always moving around the Sun, the Sun’s position on the celestial sphere changes.”

You give him a confused look and he laughs before explaining some more. “So the Sun is on one side of the sky during summer, okay? During that time certain stars are super vibrant at night. And then when it’s winter, it’s on the oppositeside of the sky, giving some other stars and constellations their time to shine, and during this time, you can’t see the summer constellations as much, or at all.”

“Oh, so the Sun is kind of their reverse-spotlight.” It was starting to click for you. 

“Yeah exactly! The darker the sky is the more they shine.”

“Hmm,” you considered his words for a moment. “I dunno the Sun kinda sounds like an attention whore to me.” Peter laughed out loud but that didn’t stop you. “I’m serious! Who does she think she is? Stealing everyone’s spotlight but never dimming her own!” 

“Ace we’ve talked about this, come on.” He gave you a pointed look and you huffed. “What did we say?”

“Personifying the stars does nothing but hurt my own feelings,” you grumbled. 

“Because they don’t have any.” He finished for you. 

“Whatever.” You shoved him softly but they only made him pull you in closer. “So tell me about this new star.”

“Alright so, do you see that?” He leaned his head closer to yours and pointed up toward a bright star you hadn’t reallynoticed before. When you nodded he continued. “That’s the brightest star in the constellation of Andromeda. Andromeda is an autumn constellation.”

“Wait I know that name, we learned about this story in English. She’s from that old Greek myth with Perseus and Poseidon.”

Peter nodded. “Her mom was bragging she was more gorgeous than the sea nymphs, who didn’t like that and snitched to Poseidon. When he got mad, her father asked Zeus for advice and Zeus said the only way to get Poseidon to back off would be to sacrifice his daughter.”

You finished. “And then Perseus saw her, immediately fell in love, slayed the beast, and saved her. Then they got married.” You made little jazz hands, “Hooray for happy endings.”

He laughed before saying, “Wait, wasn’t she engaged to her uncle?”

“Yup. Perseus killed him too.” Peter made a weird face which made you giggle. “All Greek myths are kinda…off like that.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he mumbled. “But yeah, that’s her constellation. And Perseus,” he shuffled around so he couldpoint to another cluster of stars. “He’s right over there.

“Is his a seasonal constellation too?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Perseus is an all-year-round constellation. You can see him whenever. There are certain timeshe shines a little brighter, but for the most part, he’s always there?”

“But she isn’t?” You asked, referring to Andromeda.

Peter shook his head again. 

“Wow. All that and they don’t even get to spend their eternity together.” You said in a soft voice. 

“What do you mean? I thought it was romantic?” Peter replied.

“It is, in it’s own way. I just mean, she’s only around for a few months every year. And look how far apart they are, to us it seems like nothing, but up there, they’re probably galaxies away from each other.”

“Okay,” he nodded beside you while he considered your words. “But think of it like this, she’s actually up there all year round, she’s only visible to us a few months a year.”

“That’s true.” You smiled. It was sweet of him when he listened to your little stories and added his own thoughts, not just brushing you off. Your little saying from before, however, he had made up and constantly reminded you of ever since one night went a little too far; Peter had told you that actually, not all the stars in the sky were alive, in fact, a lot of them were dead but we just didn’t know because their lights were still shining for us (cue a long conversation of him explaining light years and regular years and how they affect what we see in the sky). That had made you start sobbing, the first time you’d cried in front of him actually. 

In his defense, Peter had handled it quite well. After his initial shock, he comforted you and tried to cheer you up by telling you to think of it as their final act, one last ‘look at me’ before they extinguished. That hadn’t really cheered you up but you had tried for him, after all, he couldn’t have known giant gas balls in the sky would hurt your feelings so much. You hadn’t known either. 

“As for the distance between them,” he continued. “I’m sure they have something figured out, like a tin can telephone. Or FaceTime.”

You laughed and pushed out of his hold, maneuvering yourself so you were looking down on him. 

“Hey Ace,” he whispered with a large smile on his face. 

“Y’know something Peter Parker? I really really love you.”

His smile grew wider. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your face lit up with its own cheesy grin. “Yeah.”

“Tell me again.”

“I’ll tell you however many times you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

If only it were that easy.

read part two

‘seasonal’ taglist: @keira-kaz2y5

[knyontop]

Heyo! me again, I was hoping you could make the creepypastas reacting to a shy and usually quiet reader standing up for themselves against a bully or something?

also i hope you know i will usually be doing creepypasta request bc thats my current hyperfixation-

-🌸 anon

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

This ask was sent a while ago so im happy to get it out😭 SO SORRY I TOOK FOREVER 🌸ANON

Creepypasta x reader.

ft: Jeff the killer, Ben drowned, Eyeless jack, Masky/Tim, and our amazing, beautiful, handsome, reader.

Tw: its CREEPYpastas, bullying, mentions of violence, toxic behavior, manipulation.

Jeff:

・when you first got there, gosh, Jeff was already planning on messing with you.

・he was thinking of all the cruel things he could do, until, someone had already beat him to it!

・Jeff was upset that someone had gotten his target before he could but he was surprised when you bit back.

・he didn’t expect that, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying it.

・Jeff encourages that side of you, he loves seeing you fight because its not what you would expect out of someone like you.

・he might even try manipulating you to do his bidding now that he knows your more useful.

・now when were Jeff we have to know he does not play nice. Like, at all.

・so when he makes a harsh comment towards you and respond with something snarky back he will make you regret it.

・this is Jeff the KILLER were talking about, he has more experience and strength he can easily overpower you. He does not use his words to defend himself, he uses his actions.

・you learned that the hard way.

・ether way, he finds you pretty entertaining and loves watching you get all worked up sense your so quiet all the time.

・”Y’know, I never expected something like that out of you.” He would say with a snicker, his permanent smile growing bigger as he grinned. “With your little shy girl act, you would never know you have all that spunk in ya’.”

Ben:

・just like Jeff, he prays on the shy and “timid” people.

・y’know, the ones who cant defend themselves? Those are his favorites.

・ether way he loves messing with people! No harm in that, Ben isn’t THAT mean~ ;)

・so when he sees you, hes ready to mess with you.

・he pushes your buttons, quite literally bullying you shaming everything you do, so you snap.

・Ben is surprised, more then that, flabbergasted!

・he thought you were just a… weakling.

・but you seem to have a backbone, but, that still doesn’t stop him from messing with you.

・the more he gets to know you the more nicer he gets, at first, its almost torture with his mind games that your almost tired of fighting back but he sees you as a some what friend now!

・so, lucky you I guess?

・have fun with you little friend! (Demon)

Jack:

・Jack is also quiet person, more of an observer.

・but he isn’t shy like you he speaks his mind whenever he wants to, he doesn’t care what others think. He doesn’t care about a lot of things.

・so when you come in, he will leave you alone but he knows others wont.

・your a human, quiet, shy, your easy bait.

・well..

・at least you seem like it.

・your actually more interesting then he thought, when he saw you standing up to Ben and ignoring his mind games he was quite impressed.

・he thinks your interesting but wont talk to you unless you talk to him.

・so he keeps his distance, as he does everyone but if you ever want to talk hes willing!

・just dont talk to him when hes eating, you might be next.

・just kidding! Just fr stay away for him when hes eating…

・(maybe im not kidding)

Masky/Tim:

・your quiet and shy nature pisses him off, you are not going to survive here being like that.

・he does not have any patience for people like you he just needs to get things done.

・Tim knows your going to be targeted by other creeps so he gives you a warning when you first come.

・its pretty harsh and you think hes threatening you but its tough love okay!

・when he saw Ben messing with you he sighed, ready to step in but you stood your ground.

・he was surprised, as much as everyone else was but he glad you didn’t not do anything about it.

・he was impressed and his view on you definitely changed he kinda respects you now.

・but dont pull that shit on him, hes to short fused for that.

・bro is a grown ah man and he still can’t control himself🙏🏻

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Didn’t know if you wanted romantic or platonic so take this however! :3 so sorry this took forever, im trying to get out rqs especially the old ones out as fast as i can! (Also sorry its short)

[softonshanks]

The captain’s gift

Word count: 2291 Characters: Shanks x female reader Plot: When Shanks and the crew return to the ship after exploring a new island, Shanks surprises Y/N with a thoughtful gift. Though she tries to act tough, Y/N can't hide her excitement and joy for the present: a pirate teddybear. She starts to show it off to everyone, while Shanks can't help but fall in love with her and with her happiness. As the days pass by she is always more in love with her bear, even if her sleeping problem is far from being fixed. One morning she waked up in Shanks's bed, together with her teddybear. What the hell happened the night before? Yes, this is just pure fluff and fun. Author's note: I was looking for a toy as a present for a friend's child and then this thing came up. I couldn't resist, I mean, how could you? This bear it's so fucking cute... so I had to write this dumb thing down. I just couldn't help it. Hope you like it, ciao <3

(btw love this gif: that's exactly how I pictured him while he said the line I decided to put in bold)

After days of sailing, the Red-Haired Pirates had finally docked at a new island. The crew was buzzing with excitement, eager to stretch their legs, explore, and enjoy the local food and drink. Everyone except Y/N, who yawned and stretched lazily, blinking sleepily at the busy deck. She had barely slept the night before, her hammock feeling more like a bed of rocks than a place to rest. She gave Shanks a weak smile as he walked past, but exhaustion had clearly taken its toll.

“Not joining us today?” Shanks asked, his usual grin plastered on his face as he slung his sword over his shoulder.

Y/N shook her head, rubbing her eyes. “Nah, Captain. I’m wrecked. Think I’ll rest up on the ship.”

Shanks chuckled. “Alright then. We’ll bring back stories of all the trouble we get into.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, already leaning back in her chair, closing her eyes against the sun. “I’ll pass on the trouble for today.” “We’re headed into town. Is there anything you need?”’ “Don’t need anything,” she muttered with a wave of her hand; “everything I need is right here,” she excessively gestured, moving again on her chair to find a more comfortable position. “I just need to sleep a little bit,” she added yawning.

“Sure, sure,” Shanks chuckled. “I’ll get you something you don’t need, then.”

With that, Shanks and the rest of the crew disappeared into the vibrant island town, leaving Y/N to nap under the warm sun.

Hours later, Y/N was still dozing on the deck when the crew returned. Her rest had done her some good, and she sat up, stretching and yawning like a content cat. The pirates were in high spirits, laughing and sharing stories of their exploits. Shanks approached her with a teasing smile, hiding something behind his back.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his tone light and mischievous. “I got you a little something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, still groggy but curious. “A gift? Captain, I don’t need a gift. I can handle myself just like any other member of this crew, you know.”

Shanks smirked and shrugged. “Alright, if you’re too grown up for gifts, I’ll just take it back to the store.”

With a dramatic gesture, he pulled out the item he’d been hiding—a plush teddy bear dressed like a pirate, complete with a tiny hat, eye patch, and a miniature sword dangling from its waist. Y/N’s exhaustion vanished in an instant, her eyes lighting up like stars, and she gasped, her exhaustion forgotten.

“Isthatateddybear?!,” she excitedly screamed.

Shanks nodded, repeating “It’s a teddy bear”, laughing.

“Apirateteddybear?” she screamed once more, while Shanks nodded. She immediately snatched the bear out of his hand, holding it close to her chest. She didn’t care about looking like a baby, she loved it. The crew, who had been watching the exchange, burst into laughter. Shanks crossed his arms, trying to suppress a smirk. “And here I thought you were a grown-up. You sure look like a kid to me right now.”

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. The crew, who had gathered around to watch, burst into laughter. Yasopp slapped Shanks on the back. “You’ve turned her into a five-year-old again!”

Lucky Roo chuckled, raising his mug in salute. “I give it a week before that bear’s the most famous pirate on the Grand Line.” Y/N pouted playfully at them, but the grin on her face was too big to hide. She held the bear up, showing it off like it was the greatest treasure she’d ever laid eyes on. “Look at him! He’s perfect!”, she repeated, unable to stop herself from grinning ear to ear. She hugged the bear tighter, turning back to Shanks with pure joy in her eyes. “Thank you, Captain! I can’t believe you got this for me!”.

Shanks feigned offense, clutching his chest. “You hug the bear first and not me? I’m hurt.”

Y/N laughed and finally threw her arms around Shanks, making him almost lose his balance as she squeezed him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried, jumping up and down with excitement. Shanks chuckled, his eyes softening as he watched her bounce around the deck, showing off the bear to every crewmate she could find, her smile never leaving her face. “You’re welcome,” he muttered under his breath, feeling his heart swell with affection. Shanks watched her from across the deck, unable to wipe the goofy smile off his face.

He knew she would have loved it. A few weeks before, during a stop on a bustling island, Shanks had quietly picked up on something no one else seemed to notice. They had been strolling through the marketplace when Lucky Roo became captivated by a toy shop window filled with colourful trinkets and stuffed animals. While the rest of the crew poked fun at Roo for getting distracted by toys, Y/N lingered a few steps behind them. Shanks, with his usual sharp eye, saw her pause in front of the window. Her gaze locked onto a plush bear. Her eyes had sparkled with a childlike wonder for just a moment before she quickly gasped, shaking her head as if scolding herself. Shanks could see it—the way she quickly turned away from the bear, her face a little more serious as she caught up with the group. No one else noticed, but Shanks did. He knew that she wanted it, but was too proud to show that softer side in front of the others. So when he was walking with the rest of the crew in town earlier that day and noticed a small pirate teddy bear, he knew he just had to buy it.  

Y/N was pure joy—always laughing, always brightening the crew’s spirits. He had been silently falling for her for a while now, and seeing her so happy with something so simple filled him with a warm, fluttering feeling he couldn’t quite shake.

In the days that followed, Y/N kept the teddy bear with her constantly. She named him “Red” and declared him the ship’s new mascot. Whether she was working, drinking with the crew, or napping, Red was always by her side. The crew found it endlessly amusing, but Shanks couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time he saw her cuddling the bear he’d picked out for her: every time he saw her hugging that little bear, his heart skipped a beat.

It was so fucking ridiculous to him—he was the captain of one of the most feared pirate crews on the sea, and yet, here he was, falling head over heels for a girl with a teddy bear.

One night, unable to sleep again, Y/N wandered out onto the deck, carrying Red with her. She sat down near the ropes, curling up under the stars. The night was peaceful, and the sound of the ocean was soothing, but sleep still wouldn’t come. She hugged Red tightly, sighing softly as she stared up at the sky.

Inside the ship, Shanks was headed to the galley to fetch some water when he noticed the door to the deck was ajar. Frowning, he stepped outside and immediately spotted Y/N, curled up on the ropes, fast asleep with Red tucked under her chin. His heart clenched at the sight. She looked so peaceful, so small, and it warmed him in a way he couldn’t quite explain. But she couldn’t sleep out here—not when it would get cold soon. He shook his head and quietly made his way over to her.

“Y/N,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “Come on, you can’t sleep out here. It’s gonna get cold.”

She stirred, but didn’t fully wake up, simply mumbling something incoherent and snuggling deeper into her bear. Shanks sighed, but his smile didn’t fade. With ease he scooped her up in his one arm, cradling her gently as she slept. Red was still clutched tightly in her grasp. He carried her to his quarters, laying her down on his bed as carefully as possible. He pulled the blanket up over her and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, watching her breathe softly in her sleep. She looked so peaceful, so content. Shanks reached out and adjusted her blankets one more time, his heart swelling with affection.

“You really are something else,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well, Y/N.”

He stayed there for a few minutes, just watching over her, before finally pulling away.

The next morning, Y/N woke up feeling more rested than she had in days. She stretched lazily and she blinked a few times, her mind slowly catching up to the fact that she wasn’t in her hammock as her hand brushed against soft sheets. Her eyes snapped open as she realized where she was—Shanks’ bed. Her heart raced as she quickly sat up, looking around the room in a slight panic. “Why am I here?” she muttered to herself. She scrambled out of the bed, clutching the bear tightly as she rushed out onto the deck to find Shanks leaning against the railing with a casual grin on his face as he stared out at the horizon.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her with a wink, clearly having noticed her disheveled appearance.

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why was I in your bed?"

He chuckled softly. "You fell asleep on deck last night hugging that teddy bear so tight, I figured you deserved better than the ropes. So I carried you to my bed." He paused, looking at her innocently. "Didn't want you getting cold."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm slightly, embarrassed by how vulnerable she had been. "You could’ve just woken me up,” she muttered, biting her lip.

“Well I tried to,” she looked at him. “I swear I tried to wake up you up, but you are a heavy sleeper,” he said laughing while Y/N pretended to be offended by his words.

Shanks tilted his head, his gaze softening. “Plus, you looked too peaceful in my bed. I can tell you are having some rough nights lately”.

Y/N sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah… about that."

He turned fully toward her, curious. "Something bothering you?"

She hesitated, glancing out at the ocean before letting out a frustrated breath. "I had a weird dream…"

The mischievous glint in Shanks' eye immediately sparked. He stepped closer, leaning down a bit to meet her gaze. "Oh? Do tell. Was it about treasure? A sea monster?"

Y/N scrunched her nose, avoiding his eyes. "It was... stranger than that."

Now fully intrigued, Shanks leaned against the railing beside her, all his attention on her. "Come on, spill it. You can't drop a mystery like that and not expect me to pry," he teased, giving her a playful nudge with his shoulder.

She huffed, still feeling silly, but the way he was looking at her made it impossible to keep the dream to herself. "Fine," she grumbled, her voice low. "I dreamt that… you kissed my forehead," she whispered shily, looking away.

Shanks froze, his face turning a shade of red that almost matched his hair. He didn’t know how to react at first, the embarrassment eating up alive cause he’d swear she was fully asleep in that moment. Finally, after a long pause, he let out a breath and broke into a grin as he decided to do what he always did— make a joke.  

“Well, that’s a snitch right there”.

Y/N blinked, confused. “What?”

Shanks pointed to the teddy bear. “Red here is a damn snitch! And you know what happens to snitches.”

He playfully grabbed the bear from her hands, pretending to shake it in mock fury. “I’ll teach him a lesson!”

Y/N gasped in mock horror, quickly grabbing at the bear. “No! He didn’t do anything wrong!”

The two of them tussled for a moment, laughing until they were breathless. Y/N finally yanked the bear out of Shanks’ hands, cradling it protectively to her chest. “You leave him alone, Captain!”

Shanks chuckled, shaking his head. “I love you, you know that?”

Y/N froze for a second, blinking up at him. “Wait… what did you just say?”

Shanks froze as well, realizing what he’d just blurted out, once again unable to maintain some dignity aroud Y/N. But instead of backtracking this time, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, you heard me. I love you. Been wanting to tell you for a while now. You just… you make me so damn happy.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and a wide grin spread across her face. She stepped closer to him, holding Red in one arm and reaching out to touch Shanks’ cheek with her free hand. “You make me happy too, Captain.”

Shanks leaned in for a kiss, but Y/N, ever the mischievous one, quickly placed the teddy bear between them. Shanks ended up kissing the plush toy instead of her, much to her amusement.

Y/N burst out laughing, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Sorry, Red gets the first kiss.”

Shanks groaned but couldn’t help but laugh as well. “You little rascal.”

With a playful grin, Y/N finally moved the bear aside and leaned in to give Shanks a proper kiss. Their lips met softly at first, then with more warmth and affection, as if they were both relieved to finally share the feelings they’d kept hidden for so long.

When they finally pulled apart, Shanks rested his forehead against hers, a content smile on his face. “You’ve got no idea how happy you make me.”

Y/N smiled back, her heart light as a feather. “I love you too, Shanks. And for the record… Red approves.”