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uglypastels · 1 year ago

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the Special | Sanji x reader

a/n - my first One Piece fic. absolutely terrifying but definitely a needed change of scenario to get out of my writing block. please be kind; I'm taking all my inspo from the live-action as that is what I am currently the most familiar with. but, well, we just have to see how it goes. bon appetite

Shoutout to my dear @mydearzero for encouraging my newfound obsession with this show and this character, as well as generally encouraging me to write. this is all your fault. And to everyone else who had been expecting me to finally post one of the other million fics I had promised... I'm sorry

And kind reminder that reblogs is what makes tumblr work. Please, if you enjoyed the story, reblog

word count: 9.9k

warning: 18+ only. MDNI. smut. piv sex. oral sex (f!receiving). unprotected sex [wrap up your eggplants yall]. semi-public sex. several FDA regulation code breaks, probably. afab reader. swearing. little bit of angst. shitty and fat-shaming [oc!]boyfriend/date. fist fight. alcohol consumption.

“Look at your waiter's face. He knows. It's another reason to be polite to your waiter; he could save your life with a raised eyebrow or a sigh.”

― Anthony Bourdain,

The first thing you saw was the red, bright sign spelling out the restaurant's name.

Baratie. You had no clue what it meant but could only hope that “the best restaurant in the East Blue” was somewhere down the list of its definitions, especially after the months that they had kept you on the waiting list and the tumultuous trip that it took to sail there. Next, as your ship approached, you saw the… fish head. The sight of the sculpture at the front of the ship structure buried some worry in the pit of your stomach, but surely, if so many people had given it such fond reviews, the exterior was not to speak for what awaited you inside.

‘Believe me, baby, you’ll love it here.’

‘I really hope so,’ you smiled as you got off your boat. Your legs shook at the knee as you stepped onto the sturdy dock planks. Days at sea, which had never been your friend, had clearly done more damage than you expected. You would have been on the floor if it wasn’t for the pair of arms holding on to you.

‘Thanks, Chosi,’ you said towards your boyfriend as he helped you steadily get back onto your feet.

‘Can’t have you faceplant the second we get here,’ he brushed some invisible dust off your shoulder, and with his arm entwined with yours, he led you to the entrance of the establishment. You grabbed at the skirt of your dress to keep it down as the wind blew by.

As you walked, you looked at all the other ships harboured on the… was this an island? Was the entirety just one large ship? Was it anchored to something then, or was it drifting around the seas constantly? You couldn’t quite comprehend the logistics of it all. But you could tell that humans and other creatures of all walks of life–royalty, commoners, marines, pirates—were unbothered by each other's presence and enjoying the outing. Once inside, the shushed sound of the waves was exchanged for a whisper of swing music, as well as the chatter of the restaurant’s patrons and the clinking of their cutlery on plates. The walls were lined in crimson wallpaper as well as painted depictions of sea battles, accented in gold and bronze details matching the furniture placed spaciously around the room and the two stories above it that lead the eye to a beautiful aquamarine ceiling that gave the illusion as if one was looking up at the bright sky from underwater.

The maitre’d, a Fishman, stood to attention at your entrance.

‘Good afternoon, how may I help you?’ he asked kindly.

‘We have a reservation. Name is Chosi,’ Chosi stated with his head held high. Despite you doubting that anyone knew his name in these parts of the world, he never ceased to pronounce it with a level of expectation to it. It was commendable, as well as disappointing, when nothing happened afterwards. The maitre’d simply nodded and glanced down at his long list of names, searching for the one he had just heard, ready to cross it off.

‘Ah, yes, right here. Please, do follow me to your table.’ And so, you did just that, walking down the grand staircase onto the restaurant's main floor, where you seated at one of the smaller tables, perfect for a romantic dinner for two. ‘Your waiter will be right with you.’ The Fishman bid you farewell just like that and returned to his position at the door.

‘So?’ Chosi looked at you with a raised brow as you looked around.

‘It is quite stunning.’ You must admit that you did not expect this kind of splendour when looking at the carved fish that gaped at you outside. Something about that just did not exude the same essence as the timeless and classy beauty of the interior. You barely even felt the shake of the waves beneath you.

Maybe your response wasn’t sufficient, for Chosi had opened his mouth to respond, something in the angles of his face announcing displeasure, but he was interrupted by a new presence at your table. You looked up at the tall figure towering over you.

‘Welcome,’ the man spoke, his accent clearly indicating his origin if only you had been aware of where that was. Simultaneously, he put down a plate of bread rolls, perfectly and meticulously positioned atop it. ‘...to Baratie. My name is Sanji; I will be your waiter this afternoon.’

‘Took you long enough.’ Chosi mumbled under his breath, giving you an immense urge to kick him underneath the table, but you knew better than to do that, especially when he did not seem to be ready to stop any time soon. ‘Trying to convince my girl this place is worth visiting, heh.’ You could feel your cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Nevertheless, the waiter—Sanji, he said was his name—did not seem to give the comment much thought as he looked down at you with a curve to his thin-lined lips.

‘My apologies, madame; I hope my service will not give you the false impression of this establishment being worth any of your precious time.’ The smoothness of his voice almost concealed the true meaning behind his speech, leaving you, as well as your date, speechless. However, you felt your speaking ability to be taken away by more than just his words as you spared a second to take your waiter in properly. You just could not help but notice how his suit wrapped around his arms, and although one was covered by his blonde hair, his eyes had a glint of something that excited you despite not even knowing the root of that excitement.

Like nothing had happened, Sanji continued, ‘Would you care to see the menu? Hear the specials?’ That is when you noticed the menu cards he was holding in his hand. And he must have been ready to list the special items, but Chosi was a step ahead.

‘Actually, I think we are ready to order.’ That was the first you had heard of it, but you stayed put as he continued. After all, Chosi had eaten here before. He knew what was good, and you could trust his judgement.

‘Prime rib, medium rare,’ as your boyfriend spoke, you kept your eye on the waiter, noticing the appearance of the smallest of flinches in his face at the sound of the dish, but never faltering his picture-perfect appearance, ‘and my lady will have the salad.’

Another twitch, right below his visible eyes, followed, but Sanji’s professional facade stayed on as he inquired: ‘We offer quite a variety of salads; which would madame prefer?’ And with that, he turned to you, that smile plastered on like a sticker, but he had trouble keeping it on as the answer to his question did not come from your mouth.

‘Whichever is the best, of course.’ Chosi rolled his eyes, and you wished you could do so as well. The waiter glanced between you and him, turning back to you momentarily. Long enough for you to give him a reassuring smile. It would be in everyone’s best interest if he just moved on from the matter.

‘Drinks, then,’ Sanji again spoke with an unphased essence about him, as if nothing from the past few minutes had ever occurred, or at least tried to emulate this. ‘Madam, anything I can get you?’ The way he emphasised that word didn’t require any pointed glares.

‘Uhm,’ you hesitated as he kept his full attention on you, completely ignoring the man sitting opposite you at the table, making Chosi stare at you just as, if not more, intensely, for all the opposite reasons. Out of panic, you just blurted out the most straightforward order. ‘Just water, thank you.’ It being the first words you said in the waiter's presence, they came out soft. Nothing like your regular voice, which startled you slightly.

‘Still, sparkling or mineral?’ Sanji pursued.

‘Still please,’ you smiled shyly, unsure where that actual shyness derived from.

‘Ice? Cubed or crushed?’ He fired the questions at a rapid pace.

‘A bit of ice is fine. Thank you,’ you repeated yourself, looking down at the table and letting the waiter move on to the rest of the order. He didn’t say anything else but looked at Chosi with anticipation.

‘I’ll have your finest brew.’

‘Coming up,’ his voice had a sudden coldness to it as he walked away, back to the kitchen, leaving the table to a thick silence.

‘I could have ordered for myself, you know,’ you said, with that same soft tone you had spoken with earlier, although this felt much more familiar seeing who you talked to.

‘And have you stuff yourself with some useless carbs? C’mon, you know I’m just looking out for you, here.’

‘I know.’ You straightened out a fork in front of you, suddenly feeling uneasy at how far away from the plate it was positioned compared to the knife on the opposite side. You were straightening out a crease in the tablecloth when Sanji returned with a silver tray in one hand. He placed the pint glass full of golden brew in front of Chosi before turning your way and setting a glass beside your plate. With a pair of tongs, one by one, he let ice cubes fall to the bottom of it, the clinking against the glass almost deafening. Then, he followed up with another pair of tongs and reached for a little tray but stopped himself to ask you: ‘Care for a slice of lemon, madame?’

‘Oh, uhm, sure,’ you shrugged, unable to look away. This process of pouring a glass of water felt rather extensive, but you could not deny the fact you were enjoying it all. As he grabbed the large pitcher to pour the water, you were unsure how he had carried all of these items with one hand and did so seemingly effortlessly.

‘There we go,’ he smiled, ‘your food will be with you shortly, but do let me know if you require anything else.’ And just like that, he was gone again, but not without leaving you feeling that he had meant his parting words especially for you and that that sentiment had undoubtedly not escaped your date.

‘I don’t like the look of that guy.’ Chosi glared at you as he took a sip from his pint, slurping up the top layer of foam with it.

‘I think he’s quite sweet.’ You straightened out the fork again and reached for a bread roll to tear it apart piece by piece.

‘Of course you would,’ he rolled his eyes, which made you look up from your little snack.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ You put the bread roll down as the pit in your stomach hollowed out your appetite. Right, making space for that damn salad.

‘Nothing.’ Chosi shrugged, ‘Just that it's typical that somehow I’m the only one to notice when some guy is trying to cop a feel.’

‘He was doing no such thing.’ You had to bite your tongue not to raise your voice as his insinuation, despite being on the waiter's actions, seemed to be brutally judging yourself. ‘The poor guy is just doing his job. I’m not bothered by it, and neither should you be.’ Usually, you would attach some sweet nickname at the end of that sentence, but this was one too many times you had said a variant of the confirmation, and you were growing tired of just the thought of it.

Somewhere in the distance, a table erupted into a shouting match that had to be broken up by a handful of waiters. While usually, you turned away from such brutalities, never having been fond of violence and not particularly having a necessity in seeing people getting their teeth punched out minutes before eating a meal, this time you stretched your neck out to glance across the room, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of the white-blonde hair among the rousing heads. Someone had pulled a pistol, but the weapon was kicked out of the man's grip before they could shoot or even alarm people enough to hide beneath their tables. Just like that, the restaurant resumed its normal state of pleasantries, and you got back to your abysmal date and hoped it was still worth saving… or that saving was still even an option to begin with.

‘From what you had told me about the place, Chi, it is much grander than I had expected.’ You smiled, and he nodded to your affirmations.

‘Well, I didn’t want to raise the expectations too high, but you know I don’t do anything but the best for you, sweet cheeks.’

‘Of course—’ you were interrupted by the footsteps nearing your table, and the weight nearly lifted off your shoulders at the sight of Sanji carrying too large plates.

‘Hello there,’ he grinned slyly, ‘hope I don’t interrupt anythin’.’

‘Not at all,’ You moved your glass aside to make space for your dish, but Sanji put Chosi’s plate down first, announcing the food.

‘Prime rib, medium rare, for the gentleman.’ Like everything else, he precisely placed it so the gold details on the plate faced the diner exactly right. The roast glistened in the restaurant's dim light, and the smell hit you right at the nerves that reminded you of your hunger. But that was for the gentleman, and the gentleman had ordered for you the—

‘And for the madame,’ Sanji put a plate in front of you, ‘what I like to call the Sanji Special.’

You looked down at your plate of food with a stunned expression and then looked back up. Just in time, you caught the slight wink that your waiter had sent you before stepping back to then, with a nod, say, ‘Bon appetite.’

He got to take about three steps and had just turned his back towards your table when Chosi called out to him, clearing his throat. ‘Ehem, excuse me, Sonny.’

‘Is there a problem?’ Sanji returned with his hands behind his back, but you didn’t need to see his fists to know he was clenching them. It was all visible in the strain of his upper arms and jaw as he restrained himself to keep up a polite smile.

‘I am pretty sure we had ordered a salad?’ Chosi tried to play it off with a casual laugh, but it turned out to be anything but. Sanji leaned forward to grab the plate, but then your boyfriend exclaimed, ‘No, not for me; for her.’ before the waiter got his hand on his prime rib.

With a satisfied smile, Sanji glanced at your plate and stated: ‘That is a salad.’

Not that you did not appreciate what was in front of you, but if it was a salad, it was the loosest interpretation of the definition possible. You had to keep your laugh in as he explained that the dish was a “twist on kensui salad with steamed components, egg, and pork” or, in your simpler terms… the most delicious-looking pot of ramen you had ever encountered in your life, but no, definitely not a salad in the traditional sense. You smiled at the food, not daring to look up at Sanji while your boyfriend’s head seemed to be boiling alive, but the waiter was a step ahead of you.

‘Ah, almost forgot, for the lady,’ almost out of nowhere, he made a pair of chopsticks appear for you.

‘She will not be eating that,’ Chosi grunted.

‘I think that is for her to decide,’ Sanji didn’t even bother to look at him, keeping his sweet smile on you, which, in turn, rushed a hot flush over your cheeks.

‘Chosi, don’t be like that; this looks delicious.’ You spoke, hoping he would calm down and let you finally sink your teeth into this gorgeous meal. After a tense second, Chosi finally huffed out and sank back down in his chair, making you realise he had been on the verge of getting up for whatever reason. Either way, his intentions could not have been good. In the meantime, Sanji excused himself once more to finally leave you to eat.

You had perhaps taken half a bite when Chosi, his food untouched, spoke up again. ‘Why do you always do this?’

‘Do what?’ your throat tightened around the pork you had just swallowed.

‘Embarrass me like that?’ He sighed, a vein in his forehead looking more prominent than ever.

‘I didn’t—’

‘Cut the shit, you know what you’re doing.’ Chosi slammed his fist on the table, startling you and the few people sitting at the nearest tables to you.

‘Please, can we not do this now,’ you kept your head down, ignoring all the pairs of eyes that must have started catching on to what was happening. Chosi had turned red from anger by that point.

‘What, am I being too much for you? Imagine what it’s like going out with a slut—’

‘Chosi!’ you snapped, immediately covering your face with your hand as if you had not meant to shout and grab the attention of even more people.

Deep breath in.

Out.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You hissed at the man across the table from you.

‘With me? You’re the one that has been eyefucking the waiter this whole time, and now you disrespected me like that in front of him? Do I mean so little to you?’

‘I did no such thing.’ You rolled your eyes, catching glimpses of the room you were in. The people that sat around, the employees. Of course, Sanji stood only a few tables away, taking an order. Could he hear what was happening? Most likely, the idea of that burned you in a new, much more unpleasant manner. Chosi must have said something, but you had been too occupied by your surroundings and too tired to even listen to what other vile things he had to tell you. The only thing that kept you at that table was the food, but no matter how good, it wasn’t worth enduring him. ‘You know what,’ you grabbed your napkin and slapped it onto the table, ‘I can’t do this right now. I’ll see you on the boat.’ The chair shrieked as you shoved it back.

‘Where the hell do you think you’re going,’ Chosi growled practically, and despite you having already turned your back to him, you heard his own chair scrape the deck floor. You had your eyes squeezed shut as you got ready for what was coming. He reached out, but nothing happened.

You looked over your shoulder to see Sanji pulling Chosi in by the sleeve.

‘Believe me, we don’t wanna do that, mate.’ Sanji said, his eyes filled with a new rage that made you take a step back.

‘Let go of me, you sleaze.’ Chosi suddenly reminded you of a feral kitten, how he tried to wriggle himself out of the waiter’s grip. ‘I’ll make you regret ever touching me. Do you know who I am?’

‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ he let go with a laugh, almost pushing Chosi to the ground. As your date dusted off his sleeves, Sanji took a step forward, pressing himself against him. Now that both men were standing face to face, did you only realise how much taller Sanji was than your boyfriend. How much bigger and, most likely, how much stronger. With a hushed and reserved tone yet somehow full of intimidation, the waiter said, ‘Don’t you ever try to touch or speak to a woman like that again, you hear me? Or I’ll make you regret you were ever born.’

Chosi could only nod with his eyes blown wide open. The restaurant was dead quiet, unable to pull their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. No one said anything or moved, and yet, somewhere, a stack of plates fell. The crash of porcelain echoed through the space, and Sanji turned his attention toward the kitchen’s double doors for a second. That quick moment was enough for Chosi to find his moment and attack.

Or at least make an attempt at it.

Sanji was still looking toward the kitchen, and Chosi’s fist was in mid-air, but the waiter flawlessly manoeuvred around it, swinging himself back and letting Chosi fall forward. To make matters worse, Sanji supplemented the fall by kicking him over. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend’s chin had smacked against the table, you would have missed the entire thing, as Sanji’s movements were so elegant that it seemed as if he had not moved at all. He might as well have been refilling your water, ignorant of the groaning mess of a man he had kicked down to the ground with such ease.

Chosi got up shakily. A nasty cut was already dripping blood from the underside of his face, but the redness didn’t compare to the rage on his face. He looked around until his eyes caught yours. ‘What, you’re just gonna stand there like some dumb–’

‘What did I just say?’ Sanji said, this time much louder, not trying to hide the row from the rest of the diners. But before he could make another move, Chosi reached for the nearest thing he could reach, which in his case was your dish of ramen, and threw a fistful of noodles Sanji’s way, hitting him square in the chest.

Silence.

He must have been too stunned at the audacious strike to move out of the way for it. Everyone must have been watching the noodles unstick from his navy jacket and slowly fall to the ground, then watched as Sanji raised his head back up, his expression unamused and cold, but his eyes filled with a passionate and furious fire. One that was enough to live up to the promise he had made the man you had come to the restaurant with. And so, just like that, without another word needing to be said by anyone, you watched Chosi back away—one, two, three steps, whimpering and mumbling some comments that could almost make up an apology, before he sprinted up the stairs to the exit.

‘Ridiculous,’ you heard Sanji mutter under his breath. ‘Fucking waste of food.’

Before you could think any better about it, you walked up and knelt down, as he did, to reach for the spilt noodles. ‘I am so sorry,’ you started apologising. ‘I swear normally he–’

‘Is exactly like that,’ Sanji chuckled with a rasp. You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded. He had managed to scoop most of the food before you had and was already getting up. ‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ One of his colleagues had been quick with bringing over cleaning supplies. ‘If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Let me make it up to you—a drink in the bar, on the house.’

‘No, that is really not necessary.’ You couldn’t accept anything for free after your boyfriend pulled off such a scene and… had run off without paying. The realisation hit you like a brick on the head as you cursed under your breath with a strong sense of panic, which Sanji caught on to immediately.

‘Please,’ He reached gently for your arm. ‘I insist.’

You stuttered for a moment before actually answering in defeated agreement. With a satisfied smile, Sanji led you to another exit, leading to the bar deck. ‘Right this way, madame.’

The bar deck, located in the mouth of that giant fish head, was moderately empty. Except for you and the appointed barman behind the counter, only a handful of others were sprinkled across the couches and futons. You chose a seat overlooking the sea and the setting sun that coloured the sky and waters an array of warm colours.

You understood that you had to go up to the bar to order, but you felt no particular need for it, just enjoying the breeze that brought over the calm sea air towards you.

It was unclear how much time you spent sitting out there, looking at the waves splashing by and the clouds above you and the people around you. Only once the sun had set entirely, darkening the sky completely, and most people had left the area, you decide to finally walk up to the bartender and place an order. The man nodded and proceeded to make your drink with only a few attached flourishes to the craft, but the result was charming and tasted delicious.

‘I hope I had made it clear that that was one drink on the house,’ you heard from behind you.

‘Don’t worry, this is my first.’ You said, turning around to see Sanji standing behind you.

‘You might just be the slowest drinker I have ever met,’ he said as he took the spot by your side.

‘Jeez, do your manners flush away the second you’re off the clock?’ You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, most likely also proving Sanji his point as the sip you took was particularly small.

‘For what it’s worth, madame, I was about to tell you that your bill has been taken care of.’ He leaned against the bar countertop with his forearms. ‘But I will make myself scarce now.’

‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could push himself back. ‘What do you mean it was– I would have happily paid. At least let me leave a tip.’ You were ready to pull out your purse when he took his turn to halt your movements.

‘I will not be accepting any tips for my service today. And honestly, you barely had a meal to eat, let alone to pay for. It is all taken care of. I promise.’

You looked up at him apprehensively, but something about his–not necessarily laidback–but how he was so comfortable with the situation put you at ease, too. But something was gnawing at your conscience.

‘Alright then, but I disagree with the review of your service. You most certainly need something for it in return.’ How could you repay the man who had just gotten you out of your horrific relationship? You doubted anything in the world could match your actual gratefulness. Although, maybe the smile that pulled at Sanji’s lips said something different.

‘Let me cook for you.’

‘What?’ You blinked slowly, making him smile even wider.

‘You haven’t eaten anything proper in hours. Let me make you something in the kitchen–an exclusive guest experience.’

‘That doesn’t sound much like a gratuity for you.’ You pointed out, but he did not seem to mind.

‘Indulge me,’ was all he responded with. Feeling giddy at the prospect, you glanced over at the bartender, who was definitely listening in on the conversation. Understanding what you meant with your look, he simply shrugged while wiping the glasses.

‘Ok then.’ This entire thing felt utterly ridiculous, and you didn’t hide the amusement you felt from it as Sanji opened the door to the kitchen for you. That is when your smile lightly faltered, only to be replaced with a fallen jaw as you looked around in amazement. Like the dining area, this room had a high ceiling but wasn’t decorated as much as simply visually enhanced by all the bronze pots and pans hanging around, and the pipes leading from the ovens and stoves up to the chimneys. There were long lines of prep stations, behind which one Sanji comfortably made himself at home as he immediately got started on something.

The first few minutes, after you watched him exchange his suit jacket for a white chef’s uniform, you were occupied with the kitchen itself, but once you had gotten used to the environment, you wondered where you could make yourself equally comfortable as not a nuisance to him as he cooked.

‘Make yourself at home, sweetheart,’ he said while chopping some ingredients at a speed that made your heart skip a beat in fear. Or did that come from the new nickname that caught you by surprise?

‘What happened to “madame”?’ you walked closer to his station. Sanji just looked up briefly, eye covered by his hair but his smile evermore present. Your smile lasted longer as you forgot you had meant to look at what he was doing, not to stare at him. Noticing he was not planning on answering your question, you asked another. ‘So, what exactly are you making?’

‘Since I’m sure dinner did not turn out entirely as you had planned, I thought maybe dessert would be a good pick-me-up. Rose and chocolate meringue tartes, how does that sound?’

‘Makes me wonder what I did to deserve it,’ you laugh it off while speaking the question that had been on your mind this whole time.

‘I like to show a lady how she’s meant to be treated,’ he said as he poured several ingredients into a glass bowl and began wicking at a pace that should have stopped him from looking so effortless long ago. ‘It’s all part of the special package deal.’

‘Right, the Sanji Special, was it?’ You looked around at the countertop next to him, which seemed free from ingredients and anything you could set on fire. You glanced his way, and he swiftly nodded your way. With that permission in mind, you pushed yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs lightly back and forth. ‘So what exactly does this special indicate?’

‘A nice meal, a little surprise, a few kind words, nothing too crazy. I would like to think that, with it, I have perfected the recipe on how to eliminate shitbag boyfriends like that prince charming you came here with.’

‘My knight in shining armour.’ You rolled your eyes, hiding how much you appreciated all his actions from that day. ‘Must have worked on quite a few girls then?’

‘Can’t say it has,’ he said as he pushed the oven open to prebake a few tartelette frames. The speed at which he worked truly was otherworldly.

‘Can’t because of a bad success rate or because you hadn’t actually tried it before?’

He appeared next to you from beside the oven; tiny droplets of sweat were forming at his temple, but his energy was still burning like the fire under the pot where he was melting the chocolate. ‘Let's say the latter. For both our dignity’s sake.’ It did not come as a surprise to you that he was a flirt and most likely tried these tricks out on the entirety of the female clientele, and yet, for reasons unknown, you did not mind one bit, and it still did not seize to make the smallest of his advances work on you with tremendous effect.

‘Don’t think I have much more of that left after everything that happened out there.’ You cringed at the memory of the shouting, the mess, and just how many people had been sitting there watching you.

‘There’s been much worse out there, believe me.’ Sanji lowered the fire under the pan lightly.

‘I hardly believe that. He threw noodles at you. That is absolutely revolting behaviour.’ And somehow, you managed not to get kicked out of the restaurant along with Chosi but even got to hang out in the kitchen after hours as a special dessert was being prepared for you… by the waiter that your boyfriend had tried to assault— no, that your ex-boyfriend tried to assault. That felt much better, but still didn’t let the whole situation make any more sense.

‘And that wouldn’t even make the top ten of shit that’s happened around this place.’

‘I… am not sure wether to be relieved or disappointed.’ For an inexplicable reason, you thought you would be more memorable to him. However, would you have wanted that, seeing the actual circumstances under which that would be? Ugh.

As if he could read your mind, Sanji added in. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not planning on forgetting you anytime soon.’

‘I bet you say that to everyone.’ You rolled your eyes, to which he just smiled. ‘But really, I am sorry for what happened—especially to your suit.’

‘I care more about the noodles, honestly, don’t like seeing food go to waste—’ he drifted off with his thoughts before coming back up to the surface with another question, ‘speaking of noodles, where’d you meet this guy anyway?’

‘It’s complicated,’ you sighed, not wanting to burden him with your story, but from the eager attitude he was conveying as he managed his ingredients, he did not hold the same sentiment over it. ‘We had been friends for ages—out dads worked together—and it seemed, to everyone, apparently, like the natural progression of events that we would end up together.’

‘Everyone… except for you?’ he assumed, looking up at you from the counter space.

‘No, I mean, at first I thought so too, but over time… well, you saw it yourself. But by the time I had realised what a mess I had gotten myself into, it felt like I was already too late.’

‘How so?’ You heard the gentleness in his question like he was treading the topic lightly, not wanting to put any pressure on it or on you to answer.

‘Heard people talking he had been planning to propose.’ You shrugged it off. ‘But I doubt that will be happening anymore.’

‘What are you going to do now?’ The question came with that same carefulness but perhaps a bit more intrigue. You simply shrugged again.

‘Will probably have to find another ship to get back home on, as I can’t imagine he would want me on board with him.’ It was crazy you had not bothered to check but assumed that he had already taken off hours ago, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. ‘And then, if I see him again… well, not much else I can do but officially dump his ass.’

‘So I shouldn’t feel bad for what I did?’ He stopped what he was doing as he waited for an answer.

‘Absolutely not. I can’t thank you enough for doing that.’

The both of you shared sheepish smiles before you watched him work silently for a few more minutes. The tarte frames came out of the oven in a beautifully crisp golden tone, and he mixed the chocolate into a thick mousse while the rosy syrup lay back to cool off. While the two of you remained quiet, the kitchen was anything but that as his utensils clinked around the pans. You thought back to a few hours ago and how the silence at your table had been anything but this. You had sat in a cold dread, waiting for something to snap until it inevitably did. However, you sat back comfortably here, happily watching as Sanji focused on his work.

It really was his element. While you thought the man had been exemplary at waiting tables, it was nothing compared to the ease at which he performed here. Each move he made seemed like second nature to him.

‘Do all the waiters here know how to cook like this?’ you inquired, leaning in to see how he filled the pastries up, hands in a tight grip on the piping bag.

‘The ones that are cooks do,’ he chuckled.

‘You’re a cook?’ you blinked, ‘then what were you doing out there earlier?’

‘Ah, the old shitbag that runs this place likes to torture me and send me off to do the waitin’.’ He readjusted his hold on the piping bag, briefly stopping to wipe his hand on the towel tucked between his belt.

‘Doesn’t that bother you? I’m sure you’d much rather work here.’ You certainly would. Some people could be real assholes to serve… your former date being a prime example. But Sanji simply laughed it off.

‘Nah, not when beautiful women are out there waiting to be served.’ He stopped to look up at you with a shit-eating grin, and the unseriousness dripping off of it made you blush, smile along with him and push him back by his shoulder before you would do something else much more irrational. Perhaps a bit too hard, as he lost his balance, only finding it on the counter, exactly where the piping bag had been left behind. His palm fell right over the ending, bursting out the mousse in an unfortunate mess, spilling all over him and the counter.

‘Oh no,’ you said, covering your mouth but not the giggles from it, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You think it’s funny, don’t you?’ He couldn’t keep his smile, but you shook your head harshly. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he pointed his hand, covered in chocolate, at you. Several thoughts ran through your mind initially, but you managed to suppress most of them, opting for simply running your finger over the back of his hand where most of the mousse had spilt and giving it a taste.

‘That is really good.’ you hummed at the sweetness. Sanji stood back, somewhat frozen at what you had done, but quickly thawed out with a few blinks.

‘Well, what else did you expect?’ He wiped the rest of his hand on the towel at his side, ‘and I’ll have you know it’s rude to eat the food before it’s done. Takes away from the experience.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you pouted, ‘but I promise you I am still very much enjoying this whole experience.’

‘You better.’ Sanji said, taking the baking tray and putting it back in the oven for the last few minutes. With the oven door shut, he sighed and leaned against the counter opposite you. ‘Now we wait.’

‘How long exactly?’

‘In a rush, are we?’ He glanced at you from behind his hair, and the question made you heat up in the face. Because how could you explain to this practical stranger that you were feeling the opposite of what he insinuated. That you did not want this night to end at all. That being here with him, even if you were just waiting for a damn tart to bake, you were having more fun than you had had in weeks, if not longer. So, all you did was simply shake your head again.

‘It will be just a few minutes, and then gotta let it cool for a bit.’ He reassured you. That is when you noticed the bowl he had mixed the mousse in, mostly scraped clean while filling up the piping bag, but even the best chef can’t always scrape every last ounce out. Now, you might not have had any particular urge to leave any time soon, but you certainly were hungry, and having tasted just how delicious Sanji’s food was, you couldn’t help but lean in to get another little taste.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He said, bemused, reaching to stop you from taking another swipe of mousse onto your finger. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, but he had been too late. When he caught you, you had your hand directly over your lips, looking up at him. He glared down at you in a daring manner.

You licked the chocolate off yourself as innocently as possible without bursting into laughter.

‘I can’t believe you’d do that.’ He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between you. The presence of his body, so close to yours, almost touching, reverberated off of you with warmth, and suddenly, you felt the breath you had taken to be stuck in the back of your throat. ‘Did you not listen to anything I just said?’ His breath was hot against your skin, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was a direct source of the skip in your heart.

‘Of course I did.’ You ignored the fast beating of your heart and the feeling like it might just burst out of your chest as you took him by the arm to give you some space and let you slide down the counter back onto your feet. ‘Something about experience and…’ you slid out from between him and the counter, and as you did so, swooped by the bowl of mousse with your finger one last time. ‘I forgot what else.’

‘You are unbelievable,’ Sanji reached for your hand, but you were quicker and manoeuvred around him and from his arm’s reach. Taunting him with the mousse, you walked around the work counters, and he, happily playing along, followed suit.

Like children, you ran around the kitchen, with him not far behind you, trying to catch you until he finally did, picking you up by the waist. Unintentionally, a squeak of a shriek came out of you, followed by both your laughs. You kept on laughing until you heard something outside the door. Heavy footsteps, freezing you both in your place until they moved on by. That is when you noted the time. Hours past midnight.

‘Are we even allowed to be in here at this time?’ You whispered as if the person who had walked by would suddenly be able to hear you.

‘Of course,’ Sanji said with confidence, but his expression juxtaposed this with signs that you could only read as “absolutely fucking not.” chances were that if you were caught in the kitchen at this time of night, you would be shot on the spot by, what did Sanji call him, the old shitbag.

But before you could run away in fear of getting caught, it was Sanji’s turn to take you by surprise. As you stood in his arms, he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around your finger, sucking all the chocolate right off. You could feel his tongue move down your knuckles and back up until he released it, leaving you stunned and wide-eyed.

‘I thought it’s rude to eat a dish before it’s done,’ you managed to sputter out.

‘So you did listen,’ he smiled, ‘but you might want to know that a good cook always tastes their dishes in the process, and that… was delicious.’

‘Are you always this humble about your cooking?’ Your heart was basically in your throat at this moment.

‘Wasn’t talking about the food,’ his tone was deep, sultry, as he leaned closer. ‘But care to give me another taste?’

Your breath was officially hitched in your throat, unable to breathe properly, as you stared at him, body flooding with heat and need for him. As words escaped you, you nodded lightly and leaned in as he did the same, meeting your lips in the middle with a kiss.

As soon as it happened, his arms found their spot on your side as you fastened yourself on his shoulders. It was nothing like you expected it to be. For a man spending his entire nights and days in the kitchen, he felt nothing like it. You could smell the cologne, taste the cigarettes and the fresh mint he used to conceal the former. His tender but firm touch held you in your place as he pressed closer.

There was a force to it, but nothing that you didn’t feel in yourself to copy as the need for him boiled deep inside you.

Your hand moved slowly up to his cheek, over to his hair at the nape of his neck.

One of his hands, in the meantime, had found your thigh, pulling it up over his leg as he squeezed your soft flesh, but before giving you a chance to even react to this new position and all its implications, Sanji moved.

Pulling apart, leaving your lips to be the last piece he detached from as he kept your bottom lip between his teeth lightly, he apologised, ‘Excuse me for a moment.’ because while you might have forgotten all about the world around you, he had still been keeping track of the tartelettes that were baking down in the oven.

He pulled the tray of pastries out with a white tea towel, practically throwing it down on the counter, discarding it with a metal clang.

‘Now we wait for them to cool,’ he explained as he got back to you.

‘And what were you planning on doing in the meantime,’ you pulled him back in by the blue ascot tie.

With his lips ghosting over yours, he half-whispered, ‘I might have a few things in mind,’ and with it, kissed you again. While the kiss itself was not much different, with that same intensity and passion running through both of you as before, now you were very much aware of what was to follow. If it wasn’t your need that spurred you on, then it was Sanji and his eagerness. Despite his chef’s uniform and the navy apron, you could feel him grow harder against you as the kiss continued. A moan escaped you as his lips travelled down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses one by one until he reached a spot that was more sensitive than others. The simple touch sparked a fuse inside you.

As he continued playing with your sensitive skin, he led both your bodies to one of the empty tables at the side of the room, pressing you right against the edge and locking you in between it and him.

Without needing him to say a word, you understood exactly what you needed to do and climbed on top of the table, spreading your legs to make space for him right in the middle.

Your dress might have hiked up slightly over your thighs, but it wasn’t enough for Sanji, who took it upon himself to pull it up.

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying’,’ he smiled as he kissed the corner of your mouth and as his hand reached the top of your leg, ‘but I had been thinkin' about this ever since I saw you.’

‘Me too,’ you exhaled deeply, letting the confession sink in. Maybe Chosi was right after all. Now, with him out of the picture, you could admit that something had been there from the start, from the moment you caught a glimpse of the waiter cook. And if it wasn’t for all the shit that occurred that day, maybe you would have felt a twinge of guilt as you guided Sanji’s hand between your legs. If you had not shut that chapter behind you, perhaps you would have felt bad, but any insecurities of that disappeared as Sanji began to toy with your core. His slender fingers grazed slowly over your slit, putting enough pressure on it to make you arch your back in need of more.

‘Already so needy,’ he smirked. ‘And I barely touched you.’

‘Touch me then,’ you said with gritted teeth.

‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ His fingers moved up in pace and barely went any deeper, keeping you on the edge of satisfaction. ‘And what would madame like me to do?’ He threaded his movements, and you were growing impatient with the teasing.

‘Fuck me,’ ready to hear his next question, you added, ‘I don’t care how.’

His grin only grew wider at your words. Much to your dislike, he pulled his hand away to place both at your thighs, pressing his fingers into your skin and using that as leverage to make more space for himself in between.

‘As madame wishes.’ He spoke softly right below your ear as he descended onto his knees.

The kiss he left over your panties already invoked a tremble through your entire body, and it only got worse from there, in the best sense. He pushed your underwear aside and took his time giving you all his attention and care. Kissing your core deeply until his nose pressed up against you. His tongue licked up your juices like a starving man until your eyes rolled back, and you felt weak.

The table you were perched on was empty, so you only had Sanji to hold on to. At first, you reached for his shoulder, but it was just not high enough for you to find support. As you tried to look for it, Sanji reached for your hand and brought it up to the side of his head for you to tangle your fingers in his light locks. Before you even managed to grab onto them, simply letting your nails trace over his hair, you felt the vibrations of his moans strike you. Another deep blow to your senses pulled you further down to the edge. Closer and closer until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your grip on his hair tightened as your breath grew sporadic.

‘Fuck, fuck,’ you moaned, voice filled with desperation for a release, and one that Sanji would be more than pleased to give you… just not quite yet. As he pulled away from you, you deflated with the feeling of a ruined climax and the urge to pull him back to finish what he had started, but all you could do was whimper in protest.

‘Don’t worry,’ he kissed your knee softly, ‘all in good time. I promise to take good care of you,’ and with that, he rose back up to his feet, untying his apron.

‘That was good,’ your chest still moving up and down heavily as you caught your breath. ‘Really good.’

‘It pleases me to hear that,’ he said as he threw the apron aside onto the ground. ‘And believe me, I would love to go back for seconds—’

‘Does all your pillow talk stem from restaurant jargon?’ you interrupted jokingly.

‘You laugh, and yet you’re the one begging me to fuck you.’ God, he was so cocky, with the way he stood there in front of you, his head tilted sideways, and his lip turned up in a grin that told you he knew he was right. ‘So, please, let me.’ His hand was already on his belt buckle.

There was no time or need for either of you to undress. With your dress hiked up to your hips, he already had easy enough access, and once his belt was loose, it only took a few sharp pulls for you to release him from the material restraints.

‘You ready?’ he asked.

‘For the love of god,’ grabbing him by the arm, you pulled him in, ‘stop talking and just take me.’ You knew he was about to respond, but before he got the chance to make another absurdly silly but nonetheless flirtatious comment, you shit him up with a kiss. Just like that, the two of you melted into one another. Sanji made himself comfortable between you and let his lips wander down to your neck again, to that one spot he found that drove you crazy.

He kept kissing your neck as he finally slid into you. The two feelings made your body go weak, melting you into a puddle of burning nerves as he spread your walls and filled you up perfectly.

First, he moved slowly, but with each thrust, he sped up more and more, putting more force into it until you were both shaking with ferocity, and the table underneath you scratched over the planks it stood upon. The sound of the tortured floor was the only thing covering up both your moans and that of the messy skin-to-skin contact.

While he practically pounded into you, you reached for his hair again. There was just something about it: how messy you managed to make it with a few tugs and brushstrokes. All of it, how he acted and reacted, it was all in response to you. Just how he made you see stars with each move he made.

‘Feels so good, fuck,’ he groaned over your shoulder as you grabbed for his, pulling him closer if possible. He had your legs pressed against his sides. He shook his head quickly, letting the hair flick out of his sight, but the attempt was poor as the lock quickly fell back over his eye despite his efforts.

‘San–’ you moaned, ‘Sanji–’

‘That’s right,’ he might as well have been kissing you, so close were his lips to you, but instead, the only thing you truly felt was his hot breath on your skin as he kept going deeper and harder. ‘Gonna come for me? His voice got even deeper the longer he kept going. At the sound of it, your nails dug into his back, his striped shirt being the only thing saving him from possibly some nasty scratches, but it seemed to only spur him on more. ‘I–’ you gasped out as you felt him hit the deepest part of you.

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m close, fuck.’ the pit in your stomach tightened, your muscles strained as you tried to hold on to that feeling of pleasure he brought over you. The tension built up like a band being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment; he had you in his grip, waiting to let go of you at the exact right time. All you needed was that touch, just the right one in the right spot.

You could feel it all. Could feel just how close he was himself as his thrusts got sloppier, and his breathing grew heavier and rougher between his words. ‘Yeah, c’mon. I know you can do it. Come all over my cock. ‘’s gonna feel so good, I promise you.’

The encouragement might not have been necessarily what did it. It was more like a concoction of things that all led to this precise moment when ecstasy overtook your body and washed over you like a hot flash. Sanji was not far behind you, riding his high as he ensured you got to yours. His movements slowed down as you felt the cum slick down your thighs. While you both caught your breath, it became quiet once more.

It took you a bit longer to catch up on air in your lungs, and so while you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you heard Sanji zip his trousers back up and lightly walk across the aisle between the workstations. When you opened your eyes again, he was making his way back to you already, a handful of paper towels in his hand.

Despite the burn you already felt in your sore muscles, you spread your legs one last time to give him access to clean you up. His soft touches to your sensitive core now were in stark contrast to what he had been doing to you moments ago, but the cold of the damp towel brought a nice sense of comfort.

‘You think you can stand up for me?’ he asked gently, and the little words in that tone were enough to make your heart flutter.

‘Yeah, I think so.’ You said, but that was quickly proven wrong when your knees buckled almost immediately when your feet touched the ground. It was only because of the way that Sanji held your arm that you had not completely toppled over.

‘Woah, alright.’ He smiled, never letting go of you, ‘How about we just sit for now.’ Slowly, he guided you to sit on the ground, back against a cabinet. ‘Water?’

You nodded in agreement. The question had made you realise just how parched you were.

‘Still, sparkling, mineral?’

‘Surprise me.’ You said through a tired smile at the reference to how he waited on you earlier, but moments later, you reminded yourself of your preference, ‘just not sparkling! It just tastes foul.’

‘Anything but sparkling water, coming right up.’ He moved around the room to pour you some surprise water, and while he did so, you pressed your face into your hands, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Less than 12 hours ago, you had been walking up the deck, arm in arm, with your good-for-nothing boyfriend, soon-to-be fiance. Now you sat on the ground of a restaurant kitchen, with no idea where said–now ex–-boyfriend was in the world, coming down from one of the best orgasms you had ever received… all by the hand of a stranger. A handsome stranger at that. One that you could imagine seeing much more of in the future, but it was all just too silly.

And you were tired. And hungry.

‘Voila,’ Sanji appeared in front of you with impeccable timing, a large ice-cold looking glass in one hand, filled with ice cubes and cucumber, and two plates in the other hand. The rose and chocolate meringue tartes look particularly inviting. ‘Thought you might finally want to try one,’ he said as he handed you a plate and fork.

‘I swear, you’re a godsend.’ No matter in how much need you were of a drink, the sight of the dessert made your mouth water.

‘Ah, just a little something sweet for—’

‘If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, I will shove this tarte in your face.’ One could only endure so much of this sappy flirting, even if you found it very endearing. Sanji shut his mouth and sat beside you, poking his fork into his portion.

The two of you ate quickly but still took enough time to appreciate the flavours that oozed out of the pastry and its filling. The moan you made as it all reached your tastebuds might have been more pornographic than any sound you made while he had been deep inside you.

‘Mmm, this is delicious,’ you said through another bite. The praise brought a huge smile to the cook’s lips. ‘Seriously, thank you. For everything.’

‘It’s been my pleasure,’ he spoke in a way that almost made you think he was getting shy on you. That felt unlikely, but you let him process it all for a moment as you kept eating.

Only once you had eaten everything off your plate did you ask your next question of the evening. ‘How did you know I would like this?’

‘It’s a chef’s best trait,’ he pulled the fork out of his mouth with a pop, ‘to be able to read their customers well. To be able to tell what they like or dislike; to know them better than they know themselves.’

‘But how?’ With intrigue, you moved closer to him. He had been leaning against the same cupboard as you, one of his knees raised up and an arm hanging casually over it. His hair was still messy, falling over his eye. ‘How could you tell I would enjoy this specific dish?’

The one unobstructed eye fell over you, looking up and down over your body as his mischievous smile reappeared. ‘It felt fitting.’

‘How so?’ You blinked, confused as to what he meant.

‘Sweet, decadent and hot; what’s there not to like? I mean—’ he leaned in over his arm to kiss you, feather-light. Then, he hummed as he pulled back. ‘It is an absolutely divine combination.’

Your cheeks burned up for what felt like the millionth time that evening, and you could not dare keep looking at him as he stared down at you with that innate hunger. That kind that could only be filled with one thing, and it just so happened to have wholly exhausted you.

‘Is this still all part of that special of yours?’

To this, Sanji shrugged, ‘Depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On how long you want to keep me around.’ He scraped some leftover mousse from his plate, licking it off his fork.

‘I think for a while,’ you admitted. Yeah, you definitely hadn’t had enough of him yet.

‘Well, then there’s so much more I can do for you, madame.’

the end

thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and commenting-either through the comments, in a reblog or through my inbox <3 to hear your thoughts on my writing means the world to me and really is a huge help in motivation to keep going.

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parfaitblogs · 7 months ago

Text

peace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad.

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all

also posted here on my ao3 !

Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.

In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently.

Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch.

But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now.

You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side.

He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this.

His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently.

Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.

"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds.

You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what.

He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.

"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached.

"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards.

He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.

He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest.

And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat.

He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower.

It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers.

That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.

So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan.

When your sobs subsided, he spoke.

"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head.

"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"

"Lots of little things."

"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"

You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."

With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.

If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on.

He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head.

"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you.

You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."

"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."

"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile.

He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."

"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly.

"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence.

His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place.

"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once.

You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"

"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften.

"No. You're not," he reassured.

"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"

"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve."

"But you do deserve better."

"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"

"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"

"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.

More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more.

Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"

You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms.

"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."

You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood.

He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer.

"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"

You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."

"Oh."

He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest.

"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."

"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own.

"Thought you might need someone."

You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."

"No? Then how?" you asked.

"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."

"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

He laughed, and you smiled again.

"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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glow-worms-are-believers · 7 months ago

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Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved.

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet. I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.”

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?”

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.”

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before.

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit.

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful.

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince.

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls.

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line.

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have.

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best.

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body.

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet. So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?”

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown.

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince?

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

#Yep so this is the beginning beginning #Tim drake #danny fenton #dead tired #dc x dp #dp x dc #roxpox #roxpoxwrote #bisexual character

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sitp-recs · 5 months ago

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the sun between us by @eleadore (E, 7.4k)

Draco Malfoy, an omega. It was laughable until he was right in front of you, smelling like he was one shaky step from tripping into a heat.

How could it be? Not him, with the cold eyes and mean mouth, and all his sharp edges—every edge, no respite—nothing soft to him, nothing to draw you in. (…) He's not pretty, with his pale, pointy face, all washed of colour and full of spite. Haughty and unfeeling. Cold, Harry thinks, even in the grip of a heat, he'd be cold. Who would want to fuck him? Who would want—who would—

I finally got the chance to read this fic and I knew I was gonna write a rec for it the moment I read the quote above (I’ve actually combined my two fave quotes up there). Then I stared at my tumblr draft for about 10 minutes before I remembered how to actually write a rec lol it’s been over an year since the last one and god knows how long it will be until the next, so thank you kindly @eleadore for fueling my Drarry feels once again!

What a delicious read. So viscerally raw and thick with tension (not only sexual, which makes it even more compelling), this put me at the edge of my seat, brimming with anticipation from beginning to end. I don’t usually read a/b/o and it takes me a bit to get into it but my god, they’re so mean and so horny that I felt the UST punching my bones and was salivating from the moment Harry first sniffed Draco 🔥

This is not only an impressive masterclass in tension building within 7k (insanity!), but also a refreshing take at omegaverse and a fascinating dive into Harry and Draco, who are SO intense even when they say nothing at all: rough around the edges, unable to differentiate fighting from fucking, desperate to appear smooth when in fact they’re about to burst with want. I love how they are so attuned to each other, the desire to hurt/touch/help/hurt too strong, the wistful memory of that one day in 6th year colouring the “enemies to lovers” dynamics. It was so much fun to see this stone-cold, mocking, demanding Draco through Harry’s increasingly wanton eyes, the unrelenting banter taking the “fucking your enemy through their heat” trope to a whole new level.

Speaking of - and being a good smut champion as always - I just want to highlight how incredibly hot the whole sequence was: that unhinged frenzy of a/b/o sex, all biting and no softness, the post-nut clarity replaced by the hazy confusion of losing control and accidentally knotting your omega boyfriend enemy. Peak Drarry moment 🤣 reading this felt like a fever dream that made me eat it up in one sitting, so if anyone hasn’t had the chance to check this series yet (oh yes, there’s a sequel!!!) run don’t walk! Happy Wednesday :D

#drarry fic rec #it’s nice to be back

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hearts4youz · 1 year ago

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"Captains Daughter" ● Chapter One ●

A/N Heyy!! welcome to the first chapter of my first fic posted on Tumblr!!! I want to thank you in advance for reading my work, please provide criticism and feedback, I would greatly appreciate it :) I want to keep this authors note short so without further ado (ew) heres chapter one!

Word count 954

You strode into the mess hall like you've done many times before. Only this time, you worked here. When you were younger your father, Captain John Price, would bring you up to the base some days. You remembered ogling at the huge Humvee's and armored tanks in the garages, and the rooms full of state of the art weaponry you would see in the video games you had on the xbox your dad had bought you for Christmas one year. Smiling at the memory, you hopped in line to get a bite to eat before your meeting, which immediately followed the allotted time for breakfast.

Steak and eggs were being served today, based on the relatively low level of complaining from the people around you, you assumed it was one of the better meals served on base. As a kid, you never ate on base when your dad would bring you. When you were really young he would go out to McDonalds to get a happy meal for you. As you got older you packed your own lunch.

After you received your meal, you found an open spot at a half filled table. Nodding at those who were already seated there, you settled in at the other end of the table, savoring what would likely be your last bit of alone time for the rest of the day.

Your first day at a new base felt almost like your first day at a new school, you thought as you wandered the corridors trying to find the meeting room your father had told you to report to. You scanned the endless doorways, looking for one labelled "Meeting room 7." Cursing as you passed another one labeled storage, you thought you would be late. Turning another corner in this Labyrinth that was supposed to become your second home, you finally found it. You twisted the handle and stepped into a room with a long wooden table, a whiteboard streaked with poorly erased marker lines, and five men seated around the table.

You were greeted with a beaming smile from your father as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you.

"Gentlemen, this is my daughter Y/N, she has been recently assigned to our unit and will begin training with us and joining us for missions today," your father beamed, proud that the young woman he raised would be joining his team.

You offered a shy wave and a smile to the rest of the room, you studied each of them as they introduced themselves.

"I'm Sergeant Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz, one sporting a ball cap with the British flag imprinted on the front said. he had a light stubble on his chin and above his lip.

"Everyone calls me soap 'round here," The guy with the mohawk grinned, he appeared to be the goofiest out of the group. Next to him was a tall man, face obscured by a skull mask. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Ghost, Lieutenant," His thick Manchester accent stated. The exposed portion of his face was unreadable as he looked at you.

"Alejandro Vargas, Colonel, Mexican Special Forces," The last one to introduce himself said with a smile.

"Well, I'm excited to start working alongside you all, and i'm looking forward to getting to know you all," you responded kindly, receiving nods and murmured agreements in return.

The one who called himself soap beckoned you over and patted the seat next to him as your father started yakking about the day's tasks. He grinned as you sat down next to him.

"Price says your a sergeant," he queried.

"I am, and you?" you responded.

"twins," he laughed.

While Price droned on, you and Soap chatted about anything and everything. You half listened to your dad, not wanting to miss important information and have a huge fuck up your first day on the job.

Eventually, Soap gave you the run down on each member of the unit. You learned that him and Gaz were good friends, Alejandro leads another group called Los Vaqueros, and the real name of the scary ghost guy was Simon Riley.

"He's a man of few words at first, well actually he's always a man of few words," Soap corrected himself. "but he's a good guy when you get to know him, he's an excellent soldier too," he continued.

"I don't think he's very fond of me joining," you said.

"Naw, he'll come around eventually, he's just trying to act all tough" Soap insisted.

you hummed, tuning back into the meeting. Towards the end of it, your father mentioned assigning a training partner for you. Task Force 141 was in much more violent territory, with tougher foes. You would need extra help to catch up to the skill level of the rest of the group

"I'd like Ghost to assist Y/N in training," Price finished.

You could see Ghost's brows furrowing from the eye holes in his mask, You could see Ghosts brows furrow from the eye holes in his mask, they were a shade of light blue, almost grey. Other than that, Ghost had no comment about the order. Price dismissed the meeting.

You waited for everyone to clear out before walking up to your dad, he kissed your forehead and smiled at you "Need something kiddo?" He asked.

"Well I can't find where my bunk is for starters," you said sheepishly.

This new base was huge, in your old one everyone slept in barracks. Here, everyone gets their own room.

"Of course kid," He chuckled as you made your way out of the meeting room.

Today, you would settle in. Tomorrow, the real work begins.

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fluffystevefest · 10 months ago

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Welcome to Fluffy Steve Fest!

It's a go!! Thank you everyone who filled out the interest check or helped share it! ♡

This is a week-long celebration of Steve's birthday and will run from Monday, July 1, 2024 to Sunday, July 7, 2024.

There will be a new theme and four on-theme prompts every day to jumpstart your ideas, as well as extra challenges on the day of Steve's birthday to inspire you to try something new, but you don't need to use them. As long as you create a work that fits the rules & guidelines and post it during the event, it counts and will be included in the event.

Schedule

May 1: Prompts posted

July 1: First day of Fluffy Steve Fest - AO3 collection opens

July 7: Last day of Fluffy Steve Fest

July 10: Roundup of daily masterlists

July 22: (Optional) Last day to post your personal masterlist to be reblogged

Rules

You must be 18+ to participate because there may be mature/explicit themes and works.

Make Steve proud and be respectful! No hate at any step of the way, including kink-shaming, ship-bashing, bullying, harassment, hate speech, and discriminatory behaviour.

No advertisements or works for profit/commercial purposes.

All works must be pro-Steve and Steve-centric. No Steve-bashing will be tolerated - remember that this is a celebration of Steve and your love for him!

Since this is a fluff fest, there should be more fluff than angst, more comfort than hurt, and a happy Steve! For example, while fluff can feature heavy themes, angst without a happy ending or hurt no comfort would not count. Use your best judgement :)

With that being said, please tag your content and warn appropriately. If you're not sure whether something needs tagging, err on the side of caution so that this can be fun and safe for everyone.

In the same vein, please also keep in mind that this is an open event with a mostly unmoderated AO3 collection and you are the best-equipped to be responsible for your experience. Mind the tags and warnings and click away from works that aren't your thing.

Work Guidelines

All work types are accepted, including fics, art, gifs, meta, videos, manips, moodboards, playlists, rec lists, crafts, polls, poems, comic panel edits, podfics (with permission), etc.

There are no work minimums.

Steves from all universes are welcome!

All pairings are welcome!

Posting Guidelines

Share your work here on Tumblr and/or to the Fluffy Steve Fest AO3 collection.

When posting on Tumblr, make sure to tag @fluffystevefest and use the tag #fluffystevefest so your amazing work can be shared! If your work is posted elsewhere, you can share the link to it on Tumblr.

If you are using a theme or prompt of the day, make sure to specify which one(s) you're using and post it on the day of. If you are not using any themes or prompts, feel free to post at any point during the week.

Cross-posting with other events is allowed as long as the other event allows it too!

FAQ

Can I post art (with credit) that was made using a Picrew image maker? Yes, as long as the creator of the Picrew image maker is okay with it.

Can I post prompt submissions on days after the prompt? How long do I have? Yes, you can post prompt submissions on days after the prompt. For your submission to be included in the daily round-up, you have until it is no longer that day anywhere in the world. For your submission to just be reblogged, you have the entire duration of the event.

If you have any questions that are not answered above, please feel free to DM or send an ask 😊

How long will the AO3 collection stay open? July 22, which is also the day personal masterlists are due.

#steve rogers #steverogersevents #fluffystevefest #trackmarvel #marvel-events-central #mod post

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caramelcoffeeaddict · 1 year ago

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why do I keep getting surprised when I learn that people don't know about the "Share" button on the top of AO3 fics that will create a tumblr post (or a tweet) with all of the relevant information about the fic (ship, characters, rating, tags, word count, summary, etc) and add a link all neatly formatted for you?*

*the Share button is at the top of every fic unless the author has selected the "Hide the share buttons on my work." option enabled in their privacy setting, so you can use to promote your own writing, or even recommend a fic to your followers.

I mean, look how easy this is:

step 1: find a story you want to share and click the "Share" button at the top:

clicking that button will create a pop-up that looks like this:

step 2: you can ignore the html in the text box; you don't need it for this. instead, click the "Tumblr" button, and (if you are logged in to your tumblr account) it will create a tumblr post that looks like this: (*this auto-generated post will automatically use tumblr's default color palette for the preview regardless of what you have your preferences set to*)

step 3: if you like the way the post looks, just click "Post". (*if you have more than one blog, make sure to double check that you are posting to the correct blog before you post it!*) or if you want, you can add an author's note to the post, maybe add a photo or a teaser of the story, or make other edits to it before clicking the "Post" button. the choice is yours.

it's so simple, and only takes a few seconds to do. it's literally just three button clicks: "Share" -> "Tumblr" -> "Post". you don't have to worry about forgetting to add important info about a story in your tumblr post; or rack your brain trying to figure out which information you should include; or even figure out how to format the post to make it look neat and easy to read.

one thing to note: if you (or the author you are recommending) have your fics locked for AO3 users only, the link at the top of the tumblr post will look like this instead:

other than that, the rest of the post will look the same as above with all of the relevant story information, minus the fic title and author name which are normally displayed in the link preview. you can manually add that missing information to the post yourself before sharing, so your followers will know what story they are clicking on.

#ao3 #how to ao3 #sharing ao3 fics #fanfiction

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bg-brainrot · 11 months ago

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Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Bonus Hug - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, post-game, epilogue, cw: alcohol, jealousy

WC: 2.1k words, 18/18 chapters

Summary: An epilogue hug! Astarion sees Rogue!Tav giving out hugs and wants one of his own.

Author's Note: This was not part of the original fic, added on after the epilogue was released, however I chose to put my own spin on the epilogue hug.

Finally, Whether you read this fic AO3, on Tumblr, or a combo of both, thanks so much for joining the hugfest! I love this vampire man, and may he have many, many more hugs <3

Ao3 | [Hug17] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

It’s been six months since your victory at Baldur’s Gate.

Six months of traveling through the Underdark with Astarion, establishing a base for the vampire spawn, and figuring out your next steps together. It was perilous and difficult work, but you wouldn’t change a single thing.

You have missed your former companions dearly though, so when you received the invitation from Withers for a celebration, the smile that broke across your face could blind a celestial. I wouldn’t miss this for anything – not even a fresh new apocalypse, you wrote back.

So that’s how you and Astarion have found yourselves above ground once again, the familiar wilderness of the Sword Coast a welcome sight, the distinguished company an even more welcome one.

Everyone seems to be doing quite well, despite how you all left each other. Lae’zel is only able to visit through a projection, and the reprieve is rather temporary for a few of your companions– namely Wyll and Karlach– However, it’s a rare opportunity and you’re incredibly grateful to have it.

The elation must be obvious on your face, as Astarion takes one look at you and laughs. His sing-song little giggle never fails to bring a smile to your face, and right now your face is liable to crack open. “Go on, dear,” he says, sensing the eager tension in your body. “Mingle! If you need me, I shall be near the wine.”

“You can mingle too, you know,” you say, though you’ve already begun to walk away.

“Invite me again after a few bottles,” he responds. You know he loves them all in his own way, but he also finds them to be a bit too much at times. Ever the stray cat, he’ll find his way to them when he’s ready, at least you hope. So you nod to him in agreement and wander off to chat with your dearest friends.

You’re so excited to see them all again that you’re practically jogging to meet them.

Shadowheart is the first. When you get a good look at her, you see a peace in her face that you haven’t seen in any of the months you’ve known her. Something about it brings you relief. You knew they would each find their happiness without you, but seeing it firsthand is something else. Perhaps it’s because she’s looking so much more herself than ever, but before long you find yourself asking, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is caring and welcoming and everything you knew Shadowheart has always been.

Next you make your way to Karlach. She’s alive and well, which is ten times better than the last time you saw her, and you just might cry from the sight. She tells you about Avernus and about the possibility to fix her heart and you just might cry from that as well. Again, you can’t resist, especially knowing she’s been fighting for her life for six months. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is warm and strong, just like the woman in your arms.

After that, you make your way to Wyll. He’s doing rather well in Avernus with Karlach, and, when he mentions that he’s planning to ensure Karlach finds a solution to her heart, a few tears well in your eyes. Wyll is among the best of mortal and immortal men, and you’re glad he went with Karlach when you couldn’t. The grateful feeling is more than you can put into words, so you ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is strong and bracing and an absolute testament to Wyll’s enduring friendship.

You find your way to Lae’zel. After learning of her diligent efforts to save her people from Vlaakith, you can’t help but be awestruck by how much she’s changed. You’re inspired by her ability to learn to fight with words and stunned by how much she truly misses you. Even though she’s not there, you can’t help yourself, “Could I have a hug?” She simply clicks her tongue at you and calls you an idiot, somehow melting your heart all the same.

Eventually, you find Gale, tucked away with the tressym Tara. He’s a teacher and no longer at risk of exploding – you can’t help laughing at that, remembering the various times he almost blew you all up without the help of an all-powerful orb. Something about the way he speaks of his new role and invites you to visit, either to teach or just to spend time, makes you realize that this is what a happy wizard looks like. You love it and ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is all-encompassing and lengthy, much like one of Gale’s lessons in magic.

Finally, you find Halsin, dancing the night away. When you learn more about his endeavors, you find that he’s reestablishing the settlement at Reithwin, reconnecting the land to its people. He mentions that Thaniel and Oliver are no longer lonely and that the children of the settlement bring him a fulfillment he never thought possible. After regaling him of an exaggerated tale of your and Astarion’s adventures, you assure him that the two of you will visit soon to tell more. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is surprisingly gentle and comforting, and you walk away feeling quite content.

You determine that you’ll need to ask the rest, even Withers, for hugs if they’ll all be this enjoyable. But before you do that, you decide to take a moment to yourself, to process everything.

That’s how you find your way to a quiet corner, head spinning with warm, fuzzy feelings and maybe a smidge too much wine. Just being here, surrounded by some of the best people you’ve ever had the privilege to encounter, fills you with a companionship you weren’t aware you’d been missing. Astarion fills you with so much love and happiness, but this– this is different.

As if summoned with your thoughts, the vampire walks toward you, wine glass in hand. "Are you done mingling?" Sensing your mind is elsewhere, he leans closer, inspecting your glassy, faraway gaze. His hand lands on the small of your back, jolting your attention back to the present and you turn to look at him. His eyes sparkle at you with radiant joy and a hint of something else. Could that be annoyance?

You decide to focus on the joy. "Yes, I think I've managed to get good conversations out of everyone. Did you know Gale wants me to go teach at Waterdeep?" Your voice sounds incredulous, after all, you warned him: once a rogue, always a rogue. Unless he wants his students to learn how to stab more efficiently, he would do best to seek someone else.

Astarion clearly agrees, making an exaggerated, aghast expression. "You? A teacher?" He shudders in fake-fear. "My love, I pity the poor students who would be subjected to your methods."

“Hey,” you say, shooting him a glare. “I thought you were supposed to be the supportive one!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I can only support so much, my dear.” Then he takes a long look at you, noticing how unfocused your eyes are, the flush to your face. “And from the looks of it, I may need to support your entire body before the night is over.”

You only grin at him and say, “What did I do to deserve such a caring man?”

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing gentle circles along your back. “Likely whatever you did to deserve the affections of every adventurer this side of the Chionthar.” His tone is joking, but the dark look on his face says otherwise.

Pushing aside your own amusement, you pull his hand from your back and lean into him. “Okay, what's the matter, love?”

“Oh nothing. I just thought my jealous days were behind me.” He sounds sullen, and you note a sad tilt to his eyebrows.

Jealous days? You groan, recalling his concern over the fiery barbarian. “Love, really truly, if I were leaving you for Karlach, I would have gone to Avernus months ago.”

He waves his wine glass at you dismissively. “I know that, and I don’t mean Karlach, contrary to all evidence thus far.” Suddenly avoiding your gaze, he takes a sip of wine and changes the subject. “No matter, let’s go ask Withers where he found this vintage.”

“No, no, no,” you say, tugging him back to you before he can walk off. After another six months together, getting used to each other’s idiosyncrasies outside of mortal peril (mostly out of mortal peril), you knew the escape was only a ruse. He wants to talk, but he seems too embarrassed to begin. “You’re allowed to be jealous, Astarion. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me why.”

Astarion stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a pair of vulnerable red eyes. “Do you promise not to laugh?”

You take a beat to debate this, but ultimately honesty wins over and you shake your head. “I wish I could, but I do promise to try my best?”

A sigh escapes him, and you’re graced with a soft, reluctant smile. “Typical. You were truthful though, so I shall be too. I was rather jealous of…” He wipes a hand over his face dramatically. “I was jealous that you’ve gone and hugged everyone else. Gods, I sound like a child.”

It’s a good thing you only promised to try your best because an involuntary huff leaves your lips, which you'd firmly pressed together in preparation. "That is…" you gasp out.

"Idiotic? Pathetic?" Astarion supplies.

"Rather adorable actually," you say, finally allowing a snort out. “How do you always manage to be both adorable and sexy?”

You swear you can see the tips of his ears color pink, but that may just be the firelight or your own tipsy vision. He only says, “I’m quite talented.”

“Would a hug help you feel better?”

Astarion looks at you, eyes darting between yours. You can see a bit of hesitation in them, and you’re wondering why when he says, “Only if it’s not a pity hug.”

“Never,” you say, solemnly. “You know I only give hugs I mean.”

He clicks his tongue, annoyed again. He places his wine glass down on the ground with a flourish, as if preparing himself. “Yes, exactly. Which is why I’ve gone and become jealous. This is all your fault and I expect you to remedy it.”

You nod, accepting this burden with ease. “In that case… Could I hug you?” Astarion waves his hand at you as if to say, get on with it already, and you dive right in.

The hug is loving, it’s understanding and supportive. It warms you, it cools you, and it makes you want to tackle this man to the ground in an aggressive affection– a feeling you only barely temper after a few glasses of wine. After experiencing so many hugs tonight, you find that the hug is so very perfectly him.

No, not just him. It’s the type of hug that the both of you make together. And it’s the hug you want to experience again and again for the rest of your life.

When you finally pull away from him, Astarion is smiling once more, jealousy evidently placated. “Well now, I have you every night, don’t I? Go on then, continue to bless them with your presence. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll always be here, my love.”

You shake your head at him. “A lovely sentiment, of course, but you’re done hiding. Come on.”

“What?” he asks, brows furrowing as he tilts away from you.

“I said, you’re done hiding. No more shadows, they all keep asking about you and I’d rather you answer them yourself,” you say, all but dragging him back to the party now. “They miss you too, you know.”

“Darling, please. What if they ask me for a hug?” Astarion looks truly appalled at the thought.

You laugh, imagining him reacting like a cat forced into a bathtub. “You can say no, of course. But I promise not to get too jealous if you do.”

“What will it take for you to forget I ever said that?” he says, laughing and allowing himself to be dragged.

You quickly swipe his wine glass back up off the ground as you pull him along, and take a long drink before returning it to him. You only say, “At least two more bottles, though I suppose that depends on how wild Withers likes his parties.”

Hand-in-hand, you both walk off to enjoy the rest of the celebration. The night is young, the wine is flowing, and there are still many more hugs to be shared.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion masterlist #hugs for a vampire #hfav #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion

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thatonebirdwrites · 29 days ago

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"Promise" WIP Fics

Oh hey, an ask game, sort of! Thanks for the tag @luthordamnvers

I have too many WIPs. I'll do around 3 or 4 Supercorp and 2 Original fiction. Enjoy!

Link to Original Post.

Near the end of Act 3 for Unraveling Realities:

A sonic boom echoes in the air and the trees whip back and forth at the passage of a human-like bullet. A figure in black hovers in the air above her, the violet energy crackles around her form, and the sun dims from the grey fog.

“Lena.” The voice doesn’t even sound like Kara. The accent thick and not quite like Red Daughter’s. Lena isn’t entirely sure who came — Power? Red Daughter? Some other personality that Kara has hidden away?

“Hi.” Lena attempts a smile. “Will you come down to talk?”

“Who do you call, Lena?” The Kara-like person drifts closer. Her eyes glow a deep violet. “Kara? Do you truly think she exists still?”

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Interesting choice of words. To whom am I speaking then?”

Violet lightning sparks in her hands, but she floats closer, her feet nearly touching the ground. “Who I am is not important. My deeds speak for me.”

She’s almost close enough. “Everyone has a name,” Lena says with a hint of flirtation in her voice. That tone always got Kara to blush in the past. “If you’re so shy, I can promise not to tell anyone.” She leans closer and holds out a hand.

A faint pulse of her magic tickles her palm from deep within Kara’s body.

________________

Floor is Lava (writing it with @nottawriter)

“So you know Kelly Olsen? I’m buddies with her through work contacts. She is the fiance of Alex Danvers. I’ve only met Alex a few times, but I think she might have a sister. I don’t recall her name though."

“Huh. If they’re related, then dang, what a small world we live in.” Lena chose the dark violet thread for the shirt. If she was going to mend it, she might as well stitch fun patterns for Lori. She loved the designs Lena came up with. It was a fun hobby that kept her hands busy. Especially as she promised her therapist she’d not work on her days off. That wasn’t an easy task. Already her mind was drifting back toward some of the architect projects she was working on with colleagues.

“It’d be awesome if so! So when is this date? What’re you going to wear? Where’re you going?”

Lena laughed at Sam’s eagerness. “Sam! We haven’t decided on that. Kara suggested it, but she had to head out to her next client I presume. She said she’d call.” Part of her was worried that Kara wouldn’t call her. That maybe it was too much of a dream come true. A beautiful woman who was good with Lori? Who seemed kind and generous?

________________

Where Do We Go From Here? (Worldkiller Kara, still debating how to end this one, but it'll eventually go onto AO3):

"I need to be locked up." A hopelessness coats her voice. She turns and winces at the shattered table and microscope. Zips forward, and before Lena can say a word, she stands in the center of the room with the power dampening handcuffs. "Please, put this on me."

Lena winces as she pushes herself off the floor. Each step feels like a mile, her body aching from the attack prior. She doesn't want to do this, but what she just experienced has made it clear Kara isn't safe right now.

She takes the cuffs and looks at Kara. "I promise you I’ll fix this," she says, firmly. "You and Sam are going to get through this alive, okay?" She clips the dampeners over Kara's wrists and adjusts the settings to its max. "I won't stop until you're both cured."

Kara smiles, sadly. "I know. I trust you."

_________________

Anamchara (I posted the start of this on Tumblr in response to an ask by someone, but am still working on it off and on. Full story will eventually go on AO3):

"Yes," Lena replied, which Kara dimly noted answered none of her questions. Turning toward the bar again, Lena tapped the counter three times.

The bartender walked over with a smile, their blue skin glistened with sweat, and in their six-fingered hand, they cleaned a glass. "We'd like the Anamchara please."

The bartender narrowed their eyes. "You sure about that? Pretty permanent stuff."

Lena waved her hand. "I've heard the rumors that it’s magic to find one’s soulmate. I promise you I’ve researched this thoroughly." She gently touched Kara's arm. "Companion here agreed, right darling?"

Kara nodded. "Sure thing. Let's do the Anamchara." She downed the rest of her rum, her brain even foggier.

And that was the last thing Kara remembered.

_________________

Original Fiction: Telemores (set in Elivera world; note that Mǔmoshǔ's pronouns are vi/vir/vis):

“Must say this case boggled my mind,” Visikar admitted. “Never heard of stealing energy to ‘ascend,’ which still makes no sense to me. Were they trying to be immortal?”

“Perhaps.” Vi thought through past cases. Ability abuse was one of their specialties and often why vi got transferred to a new city or town to assist local justice councils. Most cases were never this dire. “Must review Anata’s notes to see her definition. Let us hope there is not more like her.”

Visikar frowned and took a swig of her alcoholic drink. “We’ll find them if there are.”

Mǔmoshǔ listened to the quiet hum of muffled conversation from the other stalls, the wooden walls between each table not quite thick enough to muffle all sound waves. “Visikar, ready to honor your promise? Tale of the statue in garden?” Mǔmoshǔ took a sip of the Niaz tea.

Visikar smiled. “Sure can.”

__________________

Original Fiction: Dragios Twins: The Lost Ones (from Chapter 1):

She pressed her forehead against my shoulder. Her silence made me more and more scared. She was thinking about death again. I was sure of it.

"Kia, please."

She lifted her head. "Promise me that no matter what happens, you will find the truth." Anxiety clutched my stomach at her words. "Just… I want to help. Because so much don't add up. Your Mom. Her sister. All those secrets they got. And that specialist. Oh, gosh, this weird music and our synced dreams. We're gonna need a list for it all." Kia shook her head. "I'm not saying this well."

"Don't." I protested. "You're better. Remember no negative self-talk?"

Kia smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes this time. "My biggest supporter. I'm in remission, sure. But I didn't wanna say, but my check-up Friday was odd. Sure, doctor said it was possibly nothing, but something has 'em rankled. Secrets again." She laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it.

________________________

And that's it for now. I have a few other original fiction works I'm working on, but funnily enough they didn't have the word promise in them. Huh.

I'm not sure who to tag that hasn't already been tagged. I guess no-pressure tags for: @nottawriter, @kj-yikes @s-nebul0sa @sssammich and anyone else who'd like to play.

#WIP #ask game #Supercorp #Original Fiction #Science fiction #Supercorp au

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butcherlarry · 1 year ago

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Weekly Fic Recs 28

Tumblr updated the post thingy so now I have to relearn it again. Wish me luck! Enjoy the fic recs!

Would you like to be my stepfather? by Speechless_since_1998 - Superbat, wip. The batkids ask Clark why he isn't they're step dad yet. It's adorable.

NA NA NA NA NA Batdad! by nightwalker - Batfam, complete. Ollie notices that Batman and Bruce Wayne have the same mug. What a coincidence! (Right??? RIGHT???)

Only Love Can Last by River9Noble - Twobats/Bruharvey, complete. A look at Bruce and Harvey's relationship. Short, but very sweet 💕

Fear Is Fading Fast by River9Noble - Twobats/Bruharvey, complete. A companion to the above fic. Harvey and Two Face go to therapy and deal with their feeling for Bruce (especially after Bruce gets injured).

Just A Little Bit... by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, wip. Creepy, haunted Wayne family and Alien Clark, what's not to love? I was very excited when this fic updated multiple times!! I did some happy dances! And then started screaming "NO" at my computer when I saw the most recent update :) Very good fic, give it a read!

big pockets & juice boxes by majorlachdown - Batfam, complete. Bruce turns into a purse mom when he starts collecting kids.

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 - Superbat, wip. More of the mer bruce fic! A Timothy has been acquired!

Foreign Object by audreycritter - Batfam, complete. Bruce gets seriously ill, and the whole family comes together to deal with it. Part of a series! I'm in the middle of the next fic of the series, called Developmental Milestones, and I'm enjoying the heck out of that one too!

borderline by TheResurrectionist - Batfam, wip. More of the batfam hivemind fic! The family is starting to get a hang of the shared mind thing, and go up to the Watchtower together, which is one of my favorite scenes so far :)

Brush-a-bye baby by iselsis - Batfam, complete. Bruce comforts a recently found Cass. Very sweet fic.

Bruce is - involuntarily, if he may add - the president of Gotham series by soyasauce - Batfam, with a little Superbat if you squint. Fics are complete. Gotham declares independence and Bruce is made president. Shenanigans ensue.

Dog the Dog - Jason Todd's Best Friend series by Acin_Grayson, Ao3time - Batfam, first two fics complete. Batman finds both Jason and Dog stealing his tires, and adopts both.

Through the haze by Mawiiish - Superbat, complete. Bruce is exposed to a new form of Black Mercy, and has trouble getting out of it. Clark helps him, and Bruce has trouble dealing with his feeling over what he saw in the Black Mercy dreams. Clark also dealing with Feelings ™ too. Lot's of good, good hurt/comfort and flangst (fluff and angst, heehee).

#fic recs #fic rec #fanfic recs #superbat #superman #clark kent #batman #bruce wayne #batfam #twobats #bruharvey #weekly fic recs #fanfiction reccomendations

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bobfloydsbabe · 7 months ago

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hi!! I’m kinda new to tumblr and I’m trying to figure out how to be a respectful reader. So I’m just going to dive right in, I’ve added my age to by bio - which I’ve read that you should do from many blogs - but how do I go about supporting works? Recently I’ve just been liking + commenting but I was wondering about the proper rebloging etiquette? (for example do I add tags? and if I do, is it the same ones that the original poster used when they uploaded?)

sorry for the super long ask 😭 have a good day!!!

Hi Avalynn! Welcome to the madness that is tumblr–we’re so happy to have you!

You’re off to a fantastic start by adding your age to your bio! This lets authors know you’re of an age to read fics labeled 18+ and respect the boundaries they have put in place to protect themselves and readers alike.

Liking and commenting are a great first step. That being said, Tumblr doesn’t have an algorithm. What that means is liking and commenting doesn’t get a fic in front of more people, but that’s where reblogging comes in. Reblogging is NOT the same as reposting. Think of it as sharing something you love with other people–by reblogging a fic you’re telling your followers I loved this and you might enjoy it too!

A blank reblog (no tags or comments) is appreciated for the reason stated above. I discourage adding the same tags as the author because it doesn’t serve a purpose. Your reblog will not show up in the general tag, only the original post will. If you want to add tags, I recommend something like "this was so good" or "loved the tension in this" and similar things. You can then add a tag with the character like #bob floyd or #bob floyd fic to make it easier for yourself to find fics you’ve previously enjoyed and reblogged.

The key to a fanfic writer’s heart, however, is reblogging WITH comments. Add your commentary underneath the post! Share the things that made you laugh or cry or feel some type of way. Pick out your favorite quotes or interactions and tell the author why you loved them. You don’t have to be super detailed in every single reblog or comment, but even a little goes a long way. It gives writers, myself included, motivation to keep working on the story.

There are certain types of comments and tags you should not use. These include but are not limited to "more please" or "update soon please" and similar phrases. They’re demanding and make most authors feel unappreciated, like we’re just machines churning out content and not actual humans with lives outside the internet.

If you have other questions, please send an ask or shoot me a DM. Reaching out about this shows you’re willing to learn and want to understand the etiquette, which is a big difference from most new readers around here. Thank you for showing us that there are people out there who know the value of fanfics.

#mail #answered #thisfilmagain #fandom etiquette #fanfic etiquette #tumblr etiquette #i'm so sorry this answer is so long #but i hope it clears up some things

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wing-dingy · 1 year ago

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Remember when I said I wasn't gonna post fanfics? I lied. I'm gonna post just this one as an excuse to have some Johnshi in my life but also because its rare I write a fic that isnt a self indulgent oc fic

This is just a lil fic where Kenshi comforts Johnny after a stunt on set leaves him with an injured ankle, mostly cute banter. Also sorry if the formatting looks weird, i dont normally post fics to tumblr so idk how to space my paragraphs like I do on google docs.

Click. Step. Click. Step.

The Hollywood actor carried himself on his crutches across the room, from the door to his living room couch, where he saw Kenshi waiting in anticipation.

“Honey, I'm home,” Johnny announced in a parody of those old movies, how he loved his dumb movie references.

“Doesn't sound like good news. Are those crutches?” Kenshi asked, judging by the sound and the patterns of the sound. Though he usually relied on Sento for sight, he hardly ever felt the need to in a casual setting, so it rested in the mantle above the fireplace.

“Yeup. Doc says I'll need ‘em for a few weeks, a month at most.”

Kenshi crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch. “Was that stunt still worth it?”

Johnny snorted, “Totally, the shot came out perfect! You may not know this, but I do all of my own stunts. Impresses everybody when I tell them that!” He dropped a small paper bag of his prescribed painkillers on the coffee table and sat next to Kenshi, wincing as he lifted his ankle to rest it on the same table.

“Aren't stuntmen used so the real actors don't get hurt?”

“I mean- yeah. But don't worry, they're just gonna film everything else until I come back, which should be in no time. I'm just built different.”

Kenshi could just hear the cocky smile, causing him to shake his head in disbelief, but he couldn't hold back the small bit of laughter at Johnny’s pride and confidence. “Alright, but it looks like it's my turn to take care of you again.”

“Don't sweat it, Ken doll, I can take care of myself. You've already helped me enough, and you've got yourself to look after,” He noted all too seriously. Obviously there still rested some guilt in his heart over Mileena's rabid attack that day.

“That ankle needs to rest. That movie needs you and you need the money from it.” Undeniable. Johnny was still getting back on his feet (not literally now) after a messy and expensive divorce, he needed whatever work he could get at the moment. “You just let me know when you need something.”

Johnny sighed as he looked down at his injured ankle. These next few weeks were going to be the most boring while of his life.

Kenshi seemed to know Johnny wasn't feeling so good by the sudden quietness, not even a silly request from his offer. When Johnny of all people was quiet, there was a problem. “Johnny? You alright?”

“Yeah… I've just never been good at sitting still and doing nothing, you know? Now I can't even use my own pool in my living room,” He complained, as if having a pool in the living room was a normal thing.

“Come on, Johnny, you still have a whole mansion. Unless your attention span really is that small, you're not gonna get bored,” Kenshi lovingly poked at him. “It’s not like you're alone either.”

Johnny noded with a small smile of comfort. “That's right, I've got you, my best friend, boyfriend, and assigned FBI agent,” Johnny joked. Gods, not again with the assigned FBI agent meme. “And hey, maybe we can invite Kung Lao and Raiden over to hang out. You think Liu Kang would wanna drop by?”

Kenshi gave an amused smirk. “Probably not, but Kung Lao, might.”

Johnny looked down at the table again, spotting a marker. He groaned and wheezed as he leaned over to grab it, trying not to move his ankle off the table as his finger tips barely touched the marker.

“Johnny what are you-” Before he could finish his question, he felt a marker tapping against his hand.

“You wanna be the first to sign my cast?” Johnny offered, trying to play it off cool but his excitement was slipping past in his voice.

“You mean Hollywood’s megastar wants my autograph?” Kenshi teased. He took the marker into his hand, and Johnny guided his hand down to his cast. Confidently, Kenshi began writing his name.

“Not bad writing for someone who can't really see,” Johnny complimented, meaning it obviously and trying to make it sound like that rather than a mockery.

“I still know the motions of writing, that's enough to get by.” Of course Johnny hadn't seen Kenshi's messier writing at his job and maybe it should stay that way.

The real surprise was the small heart he drew right below his own name. Kenshi wasn't so into PDA, nor into cutesy stuff like that, so it caught Johnny off guard to see the small display. It wasn't like people didn't know they were dating, Johnny was way too into showing off their love and too loud to keep that secret, but it was rather that Kenshi was a more subtle lover when it came to their relationship, preferring to keep things behind doors. Still, it was a nice surprise, and at least now it made the cast way better to look at! Of course Johnny was already pulling out his phone to snap a photo of it to post to his socials.

“You're posting your cast, aren't you?” Kenshi reasonably accused.

“Gotta let the fans know production might be on hold.”

“Is that it? Or are you bragging about us again?”

Johnny snickered, meaning Kenshi was right. “Okay, you got me, but how can I not show you off? You're the coolest! A blind swordsman? Dating Hollywood's biggest hit? We're like a power couple!”

If Kenshi still had his eyeballs, he'd be lovingly rolling them, but admittedly it was kind of cute seeing how enthusiastic Johnny was about their relationship- and kind of funny to think about considering they were previously rivals over Sento.

Kenshi leaned in to press a kiss to Johnny's cheek, and he could feel the wrinkles of a smile under his lips. “Looks like you're feeling better about that ankle.”

“As long as I have you by my side, this injury is gonna be a breeze!” Now it was Johnny's turn to lean in, this time leaning to rest his head on Kenshi with closed eyes and a content smile. Kenshi reciprocated by wrapping an arm around Johnny to hold him. “Shit, that medicine they gave me is starting to catch up.”

“You get sleepy off of a couple Tylenols,” Kenshi playfully quipped, making Johnny laugh.

“Just saying it's a good excuse to nap on you! Unless you're gonna tele-fling me to bed again.”

Kenshi shook his head. “Maybe when your ankle isn't as broken. Right here is fine, just keep your ankle up.”

“Sweet,” Johnny happily murmured as he felt himself starting to doze off. Damn, Tylenol really did knock him out.

#mortal kombat #kenshi takahashi #johnny cage #johnshi #[sweating] im so nervous about posting this hfnckf

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fkinkindagauche · 13 days ago

Text

Not A Fish, Out of Water

Another fill for @harringrovewinterbingo, square B3 - "a Santa outfit you shouldn't wear around kids".

Set in the Mer universe from the first fic in this series, The First Taste, but it can be read as a stand-alone.

Thanks to @dame-zoom-a-lot for continuing to beta, and continuing to egg me on with this AU.

Please check out their awesome Tumblr posts of Murray's field notes, set in this AU! Day 0 Day 1 Day 2 Day 3

Rating: Teen and Up | WC: 3,308 | Tags: Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Enemies to Lovers, eventually

Ocean divider by @/saradika-graphics

Summary: Mermen Billy and Steve get sent above the water on a mission. The first order of business, finding clothes, doesn't go great for Steve.

Steve had never been this cold. He stood naked on the lake shore, trying to get used to the physical sensations of having legs and using his lungs. The frigid air assaulted his wet skin, now a strange peach color instead of its usual green. His only consolation was that Billy was shivering just as much as he was.

"Fuck," Billy exhaled, wrapping his arms around himself. "How is it this much colder above the ice?"

Steve knew the answer, because he'd listened to Dustin ramble one too many times. The water in the lake beneath the ice layer stayed a constant 4 degrees Celsius throughout the winter, a temperature their mer bodies adjusted to every year with the lake turnover. The temperature in the air could get far below that in the winter, and the wind made it feel even worse.

But he wasn't about to say any of that to Billy, who already thought he was enough of a loser without adding "nerd" to his list of shortcomings.

Billy shook his legs out and looked down at his body. "And why is our junk on the outside? This looks ridiculous."

Steve ignored Billy's question, though he did agree that having external genitalia was distinctly uncomfortable. "I thought Hopper said Murray was going to meet us," Steve muttered, teeth chattering.

"Hopper? You on a non-honorific basis with the King now? Figures." Billy turned away from Steve, looking down the lake shore.

Steve mentally castigated himself for the slip-up. Billy never hesitated to remind Steve of his privileged status as nephew to the King. As the two strongest and most attractive mermen in their age group, it seemed like Steve and Billy had been in direct competition for something for most of their lives. Every time Steve prevailed over Billy (which was, admittedly, a relatively rare occurrence) Billy claimed it was due to nepotism.

Steve sighed, looking the opposite direction from Billy for any sign of movement. There was nothing, just an empty stretch of sand.

"I don't think we can stay out here very long like this," Steve ventured.

Billy didn't reply, he just started to walk away from Steve. Or he tried to. He crumpled to the ground on his first attempt.

"Shit, you okay?" Steve asked, rushing to help him up, moving with more grace than Billy. Steve had been topside once before, a few years ago with his father, and was ready for the way the legs that Owens gave him would feel.

Billy shoved away Steve's proffered hand. "I'm fuckin' fine, man," Billy grumbled. "Not all of us have gotten a chance to practice walking with daddy." He stood up on his own and took a few shaky steps, getting used to the legs.

Steve followed as Billy wobbled down the shoreline. He scanned their surroundings, looking for Murray or anyone else. He knew people weren't actually allowed to walk around naked up here, something to do with the external genitalia situation, so he was really hoping Murray would be the first person to find them.

"I cannot believe I agreed to this," Billy complained as they walked. "Why should I have to freeze to death up here to keep the King's little twerp from tanking her entire life?"

"You seemed pretty excited about it when the King asked you to come," Steve pointed out before he could stop himself. Always poking the bear.

"That was before I knew you would be coming. And before I knew how fucking cold it was up here."

They trudged along the beach for another few minutes, Steve growing increasingly worried about the effect the cold was having on their human bodies. The sun was getting low on the horizon, close to setting. Steve knew it would get even colder then.

Finally, just as the sun was setting, they saw a figure in the distance - a man, bundled up in many layers of clothes. The man frantically waved his arms at them and shouted something. Steve couldn't hear it over the crashing of the waves. He quickened his pace, Billy falling into step beside him.

"Well if it isn't the fishy wonder boys!" the man announced when he was closer. "Or are you just a couple of crazy nudists out for a winter stroll?"

"Hi, Murray," Steve said. He'd met Murray on his previous trip up.

"Oh, Hop sent me little Stevie Harrington, all grown up?" Murray asked, recognizing Steve and clapping him on the shoulder. "And who's your hunky friend here?"

"I'm not his friend," Billy growled, pushing himself in front of Steve. "I'm Billy Hargrove, and I'm leading this mission." Steve rolled his eyes. The only way Billy had agreed to let Steve come as well was if Hopper said he was the leader. Hopper, only thinking about getting his daughter El back, didn't give a shit about Billy and Steve's ongoing ego competition, so he'd agreed in a heartbeat. Steve wasn't enough of a bitch to protest.

"Oh, great, he sent me a pair of warring adolescents," Murray said sarcastically.

"We're 19!" Steve protested.

It didn't look like that changed Murray's opinion at all.

"Alright, first step, put these on." Murray threw a large coat at each of them. "My car's just over this dune, so hopefully you won't get frostbite before we get there."

Steve hadn't known the frost could bite. He glanced apprehensively at the ground, then grabbed the coat and put it on. He relaxed a little once his core was adequately warm.

They followed Murray up over the dune. The walking immediately became difficult, sand shifting treacherously under their feet. The muscles in his newly formed calves started to burn. Thankfully, the dune wasn't high, and they crested the top in just a few minutes. They ended up on a brief forested trail that led to the concrete of a parking lot. A large sign at the head of the trail read "INDIANA DUNES NATIONAL LAKESHORE".

"Is that a car?" Billy asked with something approaching reverence. There was one car sitting in the parking lot, which Murray approached with a set of keys.

"Yeah," Murray replied. "A really crappy one."

Billy didn't seem to care. Steve knew all about his obsession with cars. Billy had gotten hold of a book on cars from one of the clan's trips up top a few years ago, and hadn't shut up about it since.

The inside of the car was slightly warmer than outside, and Steve was grateful to sit down. Steve had ceded the passenger seat to Billy, not wanting to come to blows this early on in their mission. The car warmed up further after Murray started it and pulled onto the road.

Billy fiddled with all the controls he could reach from the passenger seat, pressing any button and turning any knob he could get his hands on. He pressed one knob, and music filled the car. They had plenty of human artifacts underneath the lake in their dry cave system, but they didn't have electricity, so the only music they were able to listen to was music they made themselves.

Billy's mouth dropped open. "This is the radio?" he asked, in awe.

"Yeah, kid," Murray confirmed, amused.

Steve stared at Billy as Billy stared at the radio. It was rare that he got to see Billy's face completely devoid of negative emotions.

"The fuck are you looking at, Harrington?" Billy demanded, catching sight of Steve staring at him in the rearview mirror. His face resumed it's natural disposition, teeth bared in a snarl. Steve looked away, but didn't give Billy the satisfaction of a response.

"So, what do you two know about what's going on with El?" Murray asked. "Hopper didn't tell me shit."

"Right, so," Billy began. "We got what we know about the whole situation from my dumbass little sister, Max, who finally spilled the beans on El now that she knows how much trouble she's in. Over the summer, El met some kid who was out kayaking on the lake, and claimed she fell in love with him."

Ah, to be fifteen again, Steve thought to himself, when you could fall in love with someone after just a few minutes of talking to them in a boat.

"El apparently wouldn't give it up, thinks she's really in love with this kid," Billy continued. Steve could hear the disdain in his voice. "Eventually she went to see Vecna, who agreed to turn her human. Apparently, if El can get this kid to tell her that he loves her before the winter's over, Vecna will turn her into a human permanently. But if she can't, she'll lose her human form, and be Vecna's thrall. Either side of the deal is not something Hopper is pleased about."

"Who's Vecna?" Murray asked. "Another witch? Wait, did Owens get canned? Is he alright?" Murray sounded like he was nervous for Owens.

"No, Owens is still there. Vecna used to be the clan witch, before Owens," Steve explained. "He got exiled after he attempted to kill a few kids for some weird ritual."

"Huh." Murray relaxed a little on hearing that Owens was okay. "Why doesn't Hopper just come up himself and get her?" Murray mused.

"He needs to stay down there to keep an eye on Vecna, make sure he doesn't try to interfere up here," Billy replied, "but he wants us to bring El back ASAP to make sure she doesn't somehow get turned into a perma-human before they figure out how to break the contract."

"Did Max have any idea where she would have gone?" Steve asked.

Billy shook his head. "Not that Hopper could get out of her. But this is the closest town to our village, so Hopper wanted us to start looking here."

Murray's house wasn't far from the lake, only about a fifteen minute car ride.

"Make sure your coats are zipped," Murray instructed before they got out of the car. "Can't have you flashing the neighbors. I don't need to give them anything else to call the cops about."

They followed Murray into the house, both of them looking around with wide eyes. It had been summer the only time Steve had been above the water before. Everything looked completely different now, the whole world covered in a layer of snow.

After Murray had given them some of his clothes to put on, Billy said, "Alright, let's go find the princess."

"Slow down there, cowboy," Murray said. "You're not gonna be able to do much of anything but attract unnecessary attention going around at night. Rest up, we'll start in the morning." Murray overruled Billy's many protests, refusing to be their guide this late at night.

His guestroom was small, with only one bed. Steve groaned when he saw it.

"You can take the floor," Billy announced, stripping off his clothes and sliding naked into the bed. He flung his arms and legs wide, taking up the entire surface.

"Seriously?" Steve responded, hands on his hips. "That bed's plenty big enough for the both of us."

Billy threw a blanket and pillow at him. "Oh? Too soft and coddled to sleep on the floor? Or you trying to get another round on the Hargrove love machine? I told you I only did that because anyone looks pretty when you've had enough lake 'shroom."

"Fuck you," Steve muttered, face flushing bright red. He'd thought they were agreed on never mentioning what had happened at the party on the solstice, but Billy couldn't resist the chance to needle him. Steve threw the blanket and pillow on the ground. He hated how easy it was for Billy to goad him into doing what he wanted, but he wasn't about to insist on sharing the bed after that.

He settled on the floor as Billy chuckled to himself, satisfied. Billy shut off the lights, and Steve heard him start to snore just a few minutes later.

The floor was hard and cold. Steve pulled the thin blanket up over his shoulders, huffing miserably. He missed the soft bed of algae covering the rock he'd slept on beneath the lake.

He could hear Billy's snores deepen above him. Billy was presumably very comfortable in the large bed after their first day of walking. Steve hadn't thought that legs and feet would hurt so much. They were made for walking, so why was using them for their intended purpose so painful?

Steve stretched out his legs, rolling over and trying to get comfortable. It wasn't happening. The floor was too hard, and he was too cold and sore. He sat up, peaking his head over the side of the bed.

He could see Billy clearly in the dark, his eyes used to piercing the darkness of the benthic zone. Billy was clustered on one side of the bed, not even using all of it anymore. Steve grabbed his blanket and crawled in beside him, careful not to move the bed too much.

"What the fuck are you doing in the bed?"

Steve was roused from his slumber by Billy's irate voice, and several very hard whacks on his shoulder.

"Ow!" Steve yelped, rolling away from Billy and falling out of the bed in a tangle of blankets.

He hadn't woken up before Billy. He rubbed his shoulder, glaring at Billy.

"The floor is fucking uncomfortable, and that bed could easily fit three people," Steve grumbled.

Billy rolled his eyes. "You can't even survive one night without a cushy sleeping situation, princess?"

"I didn't see you sleeping on the floor," Steve shot back. How did every conversation with Billy turn into an argument so quickly?

"Whatever," Billy mumbled, sliding out of the bed. He still hadn't quite mastered his legs, and almost fell over when he first stood up. Steve snorted back a laugh.

"Oh, fuck off, Harrington."

Steve's eyes were drawn, as they so often were, to Billy's broad shoulders and strong chest. It was truly a tragedy that Billy was so attractive, but such a fucking dick. Steve turned away, pushing himself up off the ground. Thankfully, Billy was turned away from him so he didn't witness Steve's own difficulties with his new legs.

Steve stared at the clothes Murray had given them the day before. They didn't fit either of them right, and they were scratchy and distracting. Steve had only had to wear clothes once before. It was a uniquely distressing experience. Judging by the look on Billy's face as he pulled a shirt over his head, he agreed.

Murray was waiting for them in the kitchen. "How'd you sleep, fish boys?"

Steve groaned. "I wish you wouldn't call us that. We're human-phytoplankton hybrid merpeople. No fish involved."

"Yeah. Fish boys," Murray repeated. "What d'you eat, by the way? Do I need to get you Miracle-Gro or something?"

"I don't know what that is," Steve admitted. "We can just eat like humans while we're in fully human bodies."

Murray got them something he called cereal, which they both ate after he showed them how.

"How are we gonna find the princess?" Billy demanded as soon as they were finished eating.

"Hold up a sec. Ol' Papa Hopper sent you up here totally unprepared for human life," Murray said. "Left it to me to orient you. So you're gonna sit down and be oriented."

That was unfortunately true. Hopper had completely lost it when he found out what El had done. He'd gotten his own lake witch, Owens, to give Billy and Steve fully human bodies. Then he sent them topside with no instructions other than vague directions to Murray's house and the demand, "Bring me back my girl."

Billy snarled at Murray. He hated being told what to do.

"First things first," Murray continued, ignoring Billy, "we're gonna need to get you some clothes that actually fit, so you don't stick out so much when we go looking for El."

Steve didn't understand what was wrong with the clothes they had on now, besides the fact that they were clothes, and they were rubbing horribly against his skin.

Murray pointed to the couch in the living room, where a huge pile of clothes was sitting.

"I pulled these from the donation bin at the church around the corner," Murray said. "Try to find something in there that makes you look less like you've been living on the streets."

"What the fuck does that mean? Don't you all live on streets?" Billy asked, face scrunched up in angry confusion.

"Just find something that fits," Murray said with a sigh, leaving them.

They dragged the clothes into the guest bedroom. Steve immediately started to dig through them, not wanting to let Billy get everything good. His eyes were drawn to a flash of bright red. He pulled out a pair of shorts that looked small enough to allow for maximum freedom of movement. They were a garish red color, with an attached white belt. He found another bright red garment to go with them - a vest with soft white trim along all the edges.

"Stop hogging the pile," Billy said as he shoved Steve away, but Steve had found what he wanted.

He retreated to the corner, taking off the baggy clothes Murray had lent him. The tiny red shorts fit like a glove, conforming beautifully to his human thighs and ass. He even kind of liked the way his dick looked, a nice lump in the front beneath the belt. The vest was also comfortable, exposing much more of his skin to the air than Murray's clothes had.

Billy threw another red object at him. It hit him in the middle of the chest. "I think that goes with your outfit," Billy said. Steve looked down at the red cap with a conical shape and a white ball on the end. He put it on his head, and moved to look at himself in the mirror.

Seemed like a good outfit. It definitely fit, so it should meet Murray's criteria to let them go out searching.

Billy had changed into a fitted shirt and a pair of the pants Murray had referred to as jeans. The blue of the shirt brought out the color of his eyes, brilliant and sharp. The jeans hugged his ass, putting it on display. Steve looked away, pushing those thoughts down.

"Oh, absolutely fucking not," Murray said immediately after he walked back into the room. He was looking at Steve with a sort of horrified fascination on his face. "You getting ready to go audition for the Chippendales holiday show?"

Steve felt like he didn't understand half of what Murray said, even though it was ostensibly in English. "What's wrong with it?" Steve asked, looking down at himself. "It fits."

"Yeah, it sure does," Murray said with a manic laugh. "But you can't go around looking like that. You're showing off a few too many of the goods. Need to cover yourself up more. Like him." Murray motioned to Billy, who smirked at Steve. Of course Billy had somehow completed this impossible task appropriately.

Steve sighed and started to strip off his clothing. "Whoa there, sailor!" Murray yelled, covering his eyes. "You can't just take off your clothes in front of people."

Steve groaned. "Why are there so many rules?" he grumbled.

Billy threw a pair of jeans at him. "Try these. Should fit your skinny ass."

Steve tried not to be insulted on behalf of the ass he hadn't even possessed 24 hours ago, and went back to the pile of clothes. He'd figure this out somehow.

Also on AO3.

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove fic #harringrove #steve x billy #hwb2025 #mer au #merpeople

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