#《 i was so excited to see the new colors because a lot of them suited the characters more 》

[tobifuyu]

New hair, who dis?

Ran Haitani x f!reader

After years of friendship, Ran is growing and maturing right in front of your eyes but you cannot bring yourself to accept what change brings about.

cw: nsfw, mdni, basically porn with plot, friends to lovers, reader is oblivious, ran is a simp, rindou is so done, masturbation, mirror sex, use of sex toys, hair kink ig, lots of pet names.

wc: 9,7k

a/n: gosh this is way too long I’m so sorry I just have too many ideas and once I start writing I cannot stop myself. many more fics to come, I have a long list of fantasies to satisfy. also, we stan simp ran in this house.

One thing you were not expecting when opening the door of your apartment that evening was for Ran to walk in looking like a completely different person.

You wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his purple eyes staring down at you with their ever-present mischievous glint.

Lately, his lanky body has been filling out the new suits he’s wearing in a delicious way, and the time he’s been putting in at the gym, even if reluctantly, is visibly paying off.

You notice he has removed the transparent plaster from the fresh tattoo on his neck, black ink a stark contrast against his pale skin.

There’s something else missing, and the sight is so unsettling that for a moment you think about closing the door on his face.

Who is this man staring back at you? If this is Ran, why are his infamous braids gone?

“Ran, what the fuck?”

“I can explain!” He puts his hands up, gesturing at you to let him come in, and you move out of his way automatically as you take him in from different angles.

The door gets closed behind your back and Ran wraps your wrist in one of his big hands to steer you to your couch in the center of the living room. You’re both silent as you sit down, your eyes fixed on the damage.

“I cut my hair.”

“I can fucking see that!” The smug grin that was stretching his pretty lips slowly fades at the agitation in your voice. The thing is that you don’t understand why you feel so distraught.

It shouldn’t matter, right? It’s not like he went and cut your own hair behind your back. Yeah, he could’ve let you know about such an important decision in his life as he does with pretty much everything else. He could’ve maybe even asked for your opinion. But he didn’t have to.

You and Ran have been friends for years, more than a decade, and you have seen him cut and style his hair multiple times in the past. Just because you are particularly infatuated with the way his two-toned braids swung around while fighting, or how he would twirl them with his baton and long fingers, and how it looked untied, forming a messily shaped halo behind his head while resting on the pillow during one of your many cuddling sessions… doesn’t mean he had to ask for your permission.

It’s not like he knows how much you love to brush his soft locks before twisting them back into the braids that come hunting you on your dream-filled nights. Because you’ve never told him. So it’s not his fault if all these things don’t matter to him.

“You don’t like ‘em?” He coughs to hide the embarrassment he feels after asking such a vulnerable question. Ran has never really cared about what other people think of him, except for maybe Rindou, sometimes. But you’re an exception.

He knows he’s far from ugly and he thought he looked real good with the new haircut. He was excited to match with his little brother once again, and he thought you would also, considering how well you reacted a couple of weeks ago when Rin showed you the light purple color he got done at the saloon.

Maybe, just maybe, you like Rin a bit better? No, he thinks, it can’t be possible. He would’ve noticed something like that.

Then why are you acting so… mad? Or is it hurt he sees painted across your pretty face?

You let out a sigh, “No, it looks good. I overreacted, I’m sorry. I just– I wasn’t expecting you to cut your hair, that’s all.”

He scoffs, as if he doesn’t believe your words, and pulls one of your hands up to his hair. He wants to convince you that not much has changed, and you’ll still get to play with it while watching movies, he thinks it’s soft enough with the treatment he has done, “See, it’s still pretty long, just pushed back. Maybe you can braid it sometimes.”

You laugh at that and Ran smiles at you. You meet his soft gaze before daring another glimpse at his new haircut. It’s styled in such a way that accentuates his sharp facial structure, jawline visible in all its glory.

“You look…” Hot. Fuck. You shake your head, trying to reign yourself in as you stroke the soft hair, “It looks good, more mature. It’s fluffier than I thought, Rannie.”

The more you look at him the more you realize that this new look of his is toying with your already decaying sanity.

Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.

Ran lets it go after that, props you to get settled on the couch, and removes his suit jacket before grabbing some drinks and snacks to watch a movie.

An hour in, he lays his head on your chest. It’s routine, he’s always been clingy with you, in private. And you’ve always enjoyed the closeness, no matter how confusing it might be, so you never question him.

Your hands subconsciously bury themselves between his lilac locks. You can hear him let out a deep sigh as you scratch his scalp, relaxing into your hold.

“Looks good, Ran. I like it a lot,” You whisper as if to reassure him, whilst you’re only stopping yourself from confessing that you would like him even if he were bald. Your gentle motions make him fall asleep with his lips curled in a smile.

My sleepy boy, you think.

That night you wake up in a cold sweat. The blond tresses that you constantly dream of softly stroking have been subsided by messy lilac locks. The short length is being gripped by your hands as its owner's head peaks from between your thighs. Unfortunately, it’s not very the first time you dream of Ran in such a compromising position. But the matching lavender gaze staring at you with purpose is now fresh in your memory, and makes his haircut seem even more attractive, the perfect length to shove him back against your heat.

Your cheeks redden as you try to shake the feeling away, you get rid of the covers and turn on your side ready for sleep to take over once again, but his new and improved look keeps hunting you at every toss and turn.

You reach into your bedside table for the only thing that can bring you peace of mind: your trusty vibrator. It’s a small bullet one, but it does its job just fine when you press it against your clit to release the pent-up stress of the day. You think nothing of it when the face that appears behind your closed eyelids as you come is that of your bestfriend.

The next couple of weeks, it doesn’t escape Ran the fact that you’re looking at him a little weird. At first, he thinks you might still be trying to get used to his new look. It was definitely a drastic change, and for you who have known him for such a long time, to be faced with it without him even giving you any heads up must’ve been weird. So he hopes that the gift he has planned to give you, will be enough to make it up to his bestfriend, to show how much he cares about your friendship and your opinions, even if he didn’t ask for it this time.

Then he starts panicking because you stop picking up his phone calls. You don’t make plans to hang out with him anymore, just shoot a text from time to time to let him know that you’re okay but busy. He’d like to believe you, but you’ve always made time for him before. You’re avoiding him.

He doesn’t know that you cannot bring yourself to face him anymore. You had managed to suppress the feelings you harbor for him for years, but seeing him in another light, with his childish braids replaced by a more mature and undoubtedly attractive look, has been the hardest challenge for you.

You feel ashamed by the number of times his face has been appearing in your mind at the most inconvenient times. You feel too dirty to look him in the eyes and pretend like you don’t dream of them at night.

Ran has reached a level of desperation where he has to involve his brother before he loses his cool over something that, he thinks rationally, shouldn’t even bother him that much. The two of you are just friends, you don’t owe him your time.

Luckily, you pick up Rindou’s call on his first try, you haven’t heard from him in a while, so it only makes sense that you do, might be something important. What if something has happened to Ran?

Rin doesn’t want anything to do with this mess, but he can’t bear to stress over the safety of his brother anymore as he comes to their meetings looking tired and miserable as hell. Bonten is just starting out, and they’re dealing with some heavy shit now, his brother needs to fucking focus.

So he invites you over for some drinks. Explains how it’s just a small get-together they’re throwing to celebrate a new deal, only some of the guys will attend. And when you ask about Ran, he rolls his eyes but replies that his brother is not gonna be there. Which is a lie, a big fat lie that is gonna turn into a headache for him soon enough. He knows that already.

You show up just because you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the past week. Work has been… well, work. And your friend group is pretty much the same as Ran’s, so you couldn’t risk him getting word of you being out and about after you’ve turned down all his invitations. You’re joining tonight because Ran hasn’t tried to contact you in a few days, and Rin has promised his brother is gonna be held back at work. Getting a few drinks with your old friends is the perfect way to destress.

You don’t make it that far, though, because the moment you walk in Ran is already there. Mingling about and walking like he owns the place, which he does. You turn to Rindou, who’s conveniently opened the door for you and is now planning to make a run for it, and you look at him as if you’re ready to tear his head off. He must’ve known what’s going on, there’s no other way for him to be so sneaky about this. He sends an apologetic look your way before scrambling away to Sanzu, who’s waiting for him in the dark of the corridor leading to the rooms.

Ran stutters over to you the moment his eyes lay on your fidgeting figure. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a shirt that look like they’ve been tailored to fit his lanky body in such a way that makes it hard for you to breathe. His short hair is parted and gelled back, a few pieces falling off the hairstyle and resting effortlessly on his forehead.

“Hey pretty, you’ve made it.”

“Looks like it,” you shrug your shoulders, looking around awkwardly as he ushers you into the middle of the living room. You should’ve known the brothers would’ve stuck together. Fuck you, Rindou.

“D’you want something to drink?” He sits beside you, and the scene reminds you so much of when he last came over to your apartment, except this time you’re surrounded by a handful of people. Gotta make sure you’re on your best behavior, so you turn down the drink.

“C’mon, work has been stealing you from me for weeks now, y’need to let go a little.” He can sense you’re tense, and maybe alcohol isn’t the best choice in this situation, but he doesn’t know how else to let you at least look at him. He feels a pang in his chest. Why won’t you even look at him?

“I’m okay, thanks.” You’re acting so cold and distant. He’s starting to wonder if all of this really has happened over him simply cutting his hair, or if there’s something deeper beneath it. Did you feel betrayed by him not telling you?

“I think I’m just gonna go home, I’m pretty beat actually,” you start to say, and Ran doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want you to go either. “Please, just some more time to catch up. Rin wanted to see you as well,” as he says this he looks around the room and curses his brother for leaving with Sanzu.

Ran’s ass gets saved by Kakucho tapping on your shoulder before he wraps an arm around both of them as you turn to greet him. You’re smiling again, just how Ran likes to see you, but the pit of his stomach is burning with something akin to jealousy.

He’s relieved that Kakucho stopped you from upping and leaving, but he doesn’t like how you get up and join him at the counter to get him another round. Seems like you’re not drinking still, means you don’t plan on sticking around.

Ran is bummed out, he stops staring at you and Kakucho after some others join in on the conversation. He doesn’t want you to mingle with these people too much (most of them have something to do with Bonten, after all), but he’s the one who strategized all of this in the first place, so he lets you enjoy yourself. He’d rather stop pushing you before he makes it worse.

In the meantime, you’re watching a pouting Ran sit on the couch from the corner of your eye. Kakucho snickers as he notices, and you swat him away when he suggests you go sit back down with “your Ran”.

“He’s been a mess these past few weeks, I think he misses you. A lot,” Kakucho has never been anything but kind and truthful to you, that’s why you enjoy his presence so much. He’s a breath of fresh air around the much violence this friend group has experienced growing up. He’s one of those who has suffered the most but he always has a nice word to spare. Such a pure heart, his.

Your eyes wander back to where your heart is, but what you see makes your face turn into a grimace. A pretty girl you’ve known for a while, someone’s girlfriend you recall, has sat down in your spot and is now talking to Ran. They seem to be sharing a laugh as she reaches over to stroke Ran’s hair out of his face, before gesturing at it as if complimenting the new hairstyle.

The interaction is short-lived and friendly, you know her for being nothing but nice, but you feel like shit now.

You don’t like the feeling of jealousy, especially when it’s not even excused. You just don’t like when people touch Ran’s hair, and you do even less now that it has become such a touchy subject for you. He let her, that’s the problem.

“Yeah, I bet he missed me alright,” you mumble bitterly as you excuse yourself from Kakucho.

It doesn’t take you long to stand in front of Ran and stare down at him with cold eyes, “‘m leaving. Have a goodnight,” You direct the last bit to the girl, hoping she doesn’t think you’re remotely even mad at her. Then, you leave the apartment in such a rush that you don’t hear Ran calling for you. You feel like you’re underwater and the first real breath of air you take is back at your flat.

All you had time to do, before hearing the furious knocks banging on your door, is take off your makeup and wear your pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, if they had started shaking the wood just ten minutes later, you would’ve been sleeping already and not giving enough fucks to get up from your bed.

You open the door, no need to check from the peephole as you already know who it could be at this ludicrous hour.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t, I have work early in the morning,” you try arguing as you go to close the door. He blocks it with his shoe, pushing it open with his right hand as he stares at you with a look he usually reserves for Rindou when he gets pissed off about something important. It’s completely different from the one he has while fighting, he’s not being snarky or overconfident, he looks serious and undeniably mad.

“You’ve been avoiding me. For weeks. ‘Cause I cut my fucking hair.” He slams the door as he steps inside the apartment and you jump from the sudden sound, walking towards you as you slowly back away and fidget with your raised hands. You’re not scared of him, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re just scared of the confrontation that is about to go down, the fact that you’re gonna have to tell the truth, for once and for all, cause you can’t possibly hold it from him anymore. And just like that, you’re gonna lose Ran.

Ran takes in your panicked state and slows down to approach you carefully, his face softens and he clasps your hands in his bigger ones. With the grip he has on them, he drags you closer to his body. The two of you are standing in the center of the room as silence overtakes it. You can feel his stare burning your skin but you keep your own cast down.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His thumbs are stroking your skin in a calming pattern, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about. The one apologizing here should be you! “You did nothing wrong, Ra–“

“Please look at me,” you cast him a glance from under your lashes, but the way he’s staring back is so intimidating that you can’t help but feel your face heat up and you have to divert your eyes elsewhere, “You can’t even look at me.”

“Ran, I swear this has nothing to do with you cutting off your piss-colored hair.”

He knows you well enough not to get offended, your self-defensive mechanism has always been that of getting mean.

Two fingers find their way to your chin to grip it and raise it enough so that your eyes meet once again. You can’t escape him this time.

“Tell me how to fix it, how to fix us.”

His voice is almost a whisper, he sounds so distraught, blaming himself for your stupidity. You can’t take it anymore. You love Ran, the last thing you want is for him to be hurting.

“I’m not mad at you Ran, I’m mad at myself,” His purple eyes widen with surprise, but he remains silent as he lets you explain yourself, “This is gonna sound, real bad but… I couldn’t bring myself to face you these past few weeks. Cause I had a wet dream about you. After you cut your hair…” You’re not telling the whole truth as of yet – there have been multiple dreams – but you need to test the waters first.

“Oh,” Well fuck, you’ve said it now. “Oh, wow.” His hands drop his hold on one of yours and fall from your chin, for a moment you think he’s gonna step back and run away far from you, but then you feel his touch on your waist, moving you even closer than before.

His lips settle on your forehead, stamping a kiss on the skin while you feel his mouth vibrate against it as he shakes with laughter.

This is Ran we’re talking about, ‘course he’s not gonna run away, he’s gonna embarrass you to the ground. In a week's time, everyone in your friend group will probably know about this. Not only is your friendship officially ruined, but you’ll never get to step outside of your flat without feeling like a walking joke ever again, “Are you laughing at me?”

“You got embarrassed?” He places another smooch over the same spot, “So what if I made you wet in a dream? It was my haircut, wasn’t it?”

Ran giggles. The motherfucker thinks he’s funny.

“Is that why you reacted that way back at my place? You got mad someone else was gripping my hair?” His mocking voice makes you flush red, but you know better than to give in to his teasing.

“She barely touched you, please. Like I give a damn,” You roll your eyes, finally getting the courage to stare at his smirking face as you fall back into your comfortable routine of making fun of each other. “I can always grip it myself and show you the difference,” You bark back, watching how the side of his curved lips slightly twitches.

“Go at it, babygirl.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Gosh, you seem to be pretty mad still,” he’s pouting, and you swear you wanna bite his lips so badly right now.

Get a fucking grip, oh my goodness. You haven’t even told him the worst part yet. He doesn’t know you’ve masturbated to him. He doesn’t know you like him way more than a simple friend should.

“Should I find some way to make it up to you?” His words snap you back to reality, but he’s been observing you, lavender hues taking in your scrunched-up face as you think hard over something that is still concealed from him. He wants to kiss your cute cheeks, wants to hear you giggle. You’re his precious girl, he feels this visceral need to let you know just how much he cares.

Ran’s mouth presses against the apple of your cheeks once, twice, trice. He’s leaving kisses all over the bare skin, switching from one side to the other, kissing the top of your nose endearingly.

One of the hands he has gripping your waist slides to the center of your back, over the sleep shirt you’re wearing, trying to stop you from running away from his kiss attack – as if you would – and to keep you comfortably pressed against his embrace.

He can feel you melt against his body. Rosy lips parted to take in deep breaths. Your eyelids are now closed and he doesn’t waste time kissing over them as well. He can feel your skin heating up against his mouth, feverish-like, but he can’t stop himself from dragging his lips lower to peck at your jawline.

The kisses he’s giving you are all kinds of kisses, from short and sweet pecks to loud and cute smooches, to more sensual and wet ones, especially when he reaches the skin of your neck. At this point, you can’t help but raise your hands to his hair and grip the short length of it just like you promised to show him. He lets out what sounds like a moan in the croak of your neck, but you think you must’ve imagined it as you can’t really hear much over the sound of your beating heart, the blood furiously pumping in your ears.

You know you’re enjoying this way too much, and for a moment you start to feel dirty again. He’s showering you with love because you’re his best friend, and your head is turning something so pure into nasty thoughts.

It’s not the first time he has smothered your face in kisses, maybe not to this extent, but you guys haven’t seen each other in weeks, so it only makes sense why he’s reacting to your closeness in such a way.

That’s until he sucks on the soft spot behind your ear and takes the lobe between his teeth to pull the skin. The way his name comes out from your mouth, breathless and whiny, makes him weak in the knees.

He’s gonna turn all your wet dreams into reality. You just need to say the word and he’s gonna give you what you deserve and more.

His nose is now bumping against yours, mouth pressing between the space above your cupid’s bow, the corner of your mouth, the bottom of it. Your lips graze each other every time he moves along. At this point, he has kissed every inch of your face except for the mouth. You know that would be taking it a step too far. The already thin lines of friendship between the two of you would blur to a point of no return.

At least on your part; you know Ran doesn’t shy away from human touch as you do, so it might not carry the same weight for him, you’re nearly sure of it.

You can’t possibly know how wrong you are, because as you’re thinking that, Ran is holding himself back from closing the space between you.

He has been dying to kiss you for years, since the first time you offered to braid his hair for him.

“What did you dream of?” he whispers, gruff voice scratching a part of your brain that you didn’t think existed as his hot breath washes over you, only inches away.

“Uhm, I… I don’t really remember.”

“You’re not a good liar, princess,” his mouth moves closer to your ear, trailing on the soft skin on his way there, as one of his hands grasps the fat of your left thigh and hooks it over his hipbone. “What was I doing that made you wet? Did you touch yourself because of me? Tell me.”

You know that if you could see yourself from the outside right now you’d laugh at how red your face probably is, but there’s nothing to laugh about how firm Ran’s voice is when giving orders. It might’ve sounded like he was teasing you before, but he’s being completely serious now. And you’d never dare disobey Ran when he gets like this.

“I- You were eating me out,” you gulp, your throat lets you heave the words out with difficulty. “It was either that or… some other nights, you’d do more.”

So it’s multiple dreams, different nights. Ran’s grip on you tightens, “Did you touch yourself?” He repeats the question, eyes dark and attentive, as if he’s dying to know. As if he can’t picture it in his head without you guiding him through it. Fuck it, you think.

“I did, used my vibrator-“You can’t even finish your sentence because Ran is grasping your other leg and lifting you up in the air. You circle his neck with your arms and hold on tight in fear of him dropping you, but his strength makes it seem like he’s barely breaking a sweat.

“Fuck, can I kiss you? I’m dying to taste you.”

It takes you some time to elaborate on his desperate plea, but once you do, you consent enthusiastically, “Yeah? Yes!“

The moment your lips meet, it’s like nothing else matters in the world. Ran is kissing you, his lips are moving over yours with expertise. He starts slow and deepens it to the point you have to push him away slightly to regain your breath.

Sometime during the kisses that come after, Ran has you up against the wall. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of your mouth, but you don’t open it straight away to pay him back for all his usual teasing. That’s until he presses his hips against yours, and you feel his hardness rubbing on you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Ran.” He takes your surprise as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. You moan in his mouth, and he groans back, parting just enough to let you know what he needs, “I want you so bad, pretty girl.”

You buck into him as if asking for more and bite his lip before letting it go, watching as it falls back into place.

Ran laughs at that, starting a trail of kisses from your puffy lips all the way to your exposed collarbones. He knows you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t sleep in them. The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot inside your apartment tonight is how your nipples were perked up against the cotton of the shirt. He also knows the only thing covering your bottom is a pair of panties. Keeping this in mind, he sends you a look while reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt, as if asking for permission.

You nod and he frees you of it, chunking it somewhere behind his frame. He’s holding you up with his hips alone, navel pressed tightly against yours. That’s so fucking hot.

His hands make a b-line to your breasts, squeezing them to get a feel, and the motion is as pleasurable to you as it is for him, making his cock jump in his pants. You can feel his length twitching and it’s driving you crazy.

“Please-“ Your voice breaks the moment Ran puts you back down, you struggle to keep yourself on your feet and watch as he bends to bite at one of your nipples.

“Oh my god, yes,” he’s twisting the other with his fingers, and regretfully leaves them behind as he moves in a downward path over your body. He’s so close to your heat that he can smell your arousal, and when he casts his eyes toward your mound, he sees the wet patch staining your panties.

“Is this because of me?” a slap on your covered cunt follows his question. He knows already, you’ve made it clear, but he wants to hear you say it.

“Yes, yeah, Ran, baby. It’s all because of you.”

He thinks you must be already pretty out of it, because you’re not usually this straightforward when it comes to sex, in front of him at least. He heard how dirty you can get when talking about it with other friends, so he’s happy he’s found the key to open you up to him, literally.

It’s after your nth confirmation that Ran decides to grasp the side of your cotton panties and slowly drag them down your quivering legs. Both of you still can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to satisfy his every craving, and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.

Ran is on his knees, staring up at your body as if it’s a piece of art that has moved something inside of him. His admiring gaze is pushing all of your shyness and insecurities to leave you. His making you feel comfortable while being so exposed and vulnerable is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.

The weight of a peck being stamped on the inner skin of your thigh is what you feel before your body starts being covered in kisses. He’s raising to his full height while doing so, and the last one he gives you is on your forehead, just like the first of the night.

“I need you, Ran.”

Everything is still around the two of you, in the silence of the night you can hear the deep breath he takes. You lean forward to kiss the tattoo peeking from the collar of his dress shirt.

The hanafuda is a bright reminder of the life he has selfishly involved you in, and for a second he rethinks his next move, but you quickly realize he’s getting into his head and raise on your tippy toes to kiss his pink lips.

“Take me to bed, Ran. Don’t make me beg.”

You’ve told him multiple times that you can take care of yourself, and you know that where you can’t on your own he’s gonna be there to save you. You believe him, and he has to do the same when you tell him that he’s not gonna get rid of you that easily.

“You’re gonna beg either way,” he promises with a sneaky smile as he grabs your ass in his hands, making you straddle his hips as he carries you to your bedroom.

More kisses are being shared between the two of you during the short way, and he can barely tear himself from you as he lays you on your mattress.

You think he’s reaching into your bedside table for condoms but what he finds is even better: your pink vibrator. He looks at it as if he’s discovered gold. When he orders you to take it and use it on yourself, you realize he wants to watch. He wants to recreate what you’ve so cutely told him you’ve been doing for the past few weeks while thinking about him. Ran wants to see for himself.

He stands at the foot of the bed while you tease your entrance with the bullet vibrator, collecting your wetness to make it glide more easily over your clit. You keep your legs spread to give him a show, watching as he pays you back by removing piece by piece of clothing.

His full-body tattoo reveals itself to your greedy eyes. You’ve seen it multiple times, but have never gotten to take it in all together.

You’re panting, reaching your slit with one of your fingers as your opening clenches around nothing under his lust-filled gaze. “Hold it,” his deep voice tells you, and you follow his instruction, regretfully so.

“Keep it spread fo’ me.” You spread yourself open with two fingers, bucking up to chase the sensation of your vibrator. “Fuck, such a good girl fo’ me. Doing anything I tell her.” He grasps his hardness over the cloth of the boxers, the grey fabric sticking to his skin and forming a wet patch where his precome is leaking.

He strokes himself a couple of times before removing the last piece of clothing on his body, finally letting you see the place where his tattoo connects, but most importantly his cock.

It’s so pretty, lengthy, and a girth that would scare you if it weren’t for how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment. It bobs between his legs as he crawls over the bed to you and the pink on its head is glistening, you wish you could clean it up with your tongue right now.

You think he must also have an oral fixation because the moment he reaches you and settles between your open legs he chunks the vibrator to the side of the bed to cover your wetness with his mouth.

Curious tongue running over the mess you made, the sounds he’s making giving away how much he’s enjoying getting a taste.

“Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. You taste like heaven, princess.” He’s raising as he mutters the words. He takes one look at your withering figure from above, before letting a glob of spit fall on your cunt.

Ran bends and goes right back in, the muscles on his shoulders moving along as his hands come up to hold your thighs open before you can crush his head, you can already feel the bruises from the tight grip forming on the skin.

It’s like the wet dreams that have been plaguing your mind ever since he cut his hair have finally turned into reality. His shorts locks are peeking from between your thighs and you’re gripping them for dear life as he feasts on you, mouth sucking around your clit and lilac eyes peeking from below your mound with a stare so intense that you can feel your legs trembling from that alone.

When his fingers join in the fun you feel yourself getting closer, he’s moving them in a come hither motion and hitting your spot just right. He’s not building up momentum or taking his time in opening you up, that’s how desperate he is. Two of them are fucking into you quickly and with precision, while his dexterous tongue flicks your bundle of nerves.

“Ran, fuck, you look so good between my legs,” You can feel him smirking against you, the boost of ego you know he needs to get him right where you want him.

“I’m gonna cum, plea– please, don’t stop.” The problem is that Ran doesn’t exactly like being told what to do, and he’s being greedy now. He has waited too long to have you, he can’t possibly wait anymore.

He stops his movements, triggering a cry on your part. You nearly kick him with one of your feet but he’s fast enough to move to the edge of the bed, sitting in front of the full-length mirror that covers your wardrobe and conveniently faces the mattress.

You stare at him, spread legs and hard length resting on his lower abdomen as he settles reclined on the palm of his hands. “Come sit on my cock.”

You’re facing his back, laying down on the bed still, and from your position you get to admire the tattoo on his back, and how his muscles flex beneath the skin every time he moves. His body is as sinful as it can be, he drips sex and makes you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. It has always scared you, this pull he has on you, but now he’s the one inviting you over. It’s not the time to shy away.

He’s watching you from the reflection in the mirror as you get up. Your naked body is to him like a tall glass of water after weeks without drinking, he feels like he would die right here, right now, if you were to walk away without letting him have a sip.

Even his wet dreams – yes, you’re not the only one fantasizing about your best friend – don’t compare to the sight of you standing in front of his spread legs looking down at him.

“Uh nah, turn around pretty,” he prompts when he sees you’re about to straddle his lap. He enjoys the sight of you doing whatever he tells you to without even having to touch your body, and he stores that information inside a little drawer in his head for later.

You finally sit down, sliding against his hot skin until you’re resting only half of your weight on his thighs. His cock is now sandwiched between your bodies, and he groans when your asscheeks rub against it while you are wiggling onto him purposely.

“I said sit on my cock, I want you on top of it.”

You’re about to fuck your best friend, it doesn’t seem real. Should the two of you even be doing this? This will change everything forever, there would be no going back from it.

You know that once he’s gonna slide inside you you won’t be able to look at any other man ever again. You barely do now, anyway.

Your right hand goes under you to grasp his length, the angle is uncomfortable but you make it work enough to give him a few pumps. His girth feels hot in your hold, and you bring it to your opening to tease yourself with his wet tip.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.” The reflection in the mirror shows his tensed body in all his glory, and you get a glimpse of his hands buried in the sheets, he’s gripping the fabric so tight you think blood might’ve stopped flowing.

Ran is trying not to buck up into you, he’s giving you time to adjust to his size, and you realize how needed it is when you finally lower yourself on it.

You’re watching the scene unfold in the mirror, how his cock is slowly sinking inside of you. The stretch leaves you with a burning feeling and when you nearly reach his base you realize how full you are. All your bumps and ridges are being deliciously stroked by his skin.

Your lips fall open in a pant and Ran is groaning right by your ear as he straightens his posture and bends slightly over your body. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years,” he confesses while his hands grasp the fat of your thighs, spreading you to him as he loops your legs over his, keeping them open just like that with his knees.

He can’t believe his eyes when he gets to fully glimpse how far he’s stretching your cunt with his cock. All the patience in the world wouldn’t help him hold back anymore.

He bucks up into you, having you take his cock down to the base. You let out a shriek at how big he feels inside, and after that, he starts moving. Being on top made you, at first, feel like you could be in control, but it seems like the orders he was barking at you weren’t the only thing he was planning on doing on his part.

Ran starts pounding into you from below, strong thighs helping him in bucking up. You’re being split open on his cock and he’s enjoying the show. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so sinful, but your eyes are now closed in pleasure as you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess. His thrusts are so powerful that it takes you very little time to lose your mind.

He’s calling for you, you can hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your ear after you slumped against his bigger body, resting your leaned-back head on the crook of his neck. “Mhmh, open your eyes, pretty girl,” like the good girl you are, you do as said, even if you’re struggling to keep them open when his thrusts don’t let up, but instead seem to be getting deeper every time you do something he asks of you right.

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer, redirecting your line of sight towards the mirror, where you can see his heavy balls slap over your glistening skin from below. “Look at how much you’re dripping, that’s how I slid in so quickly.” You whimper at that, Ran always had a way with words that could get to you even when nothing of sorts was being said, always the teasing one, but now that he’s running his mouth with all these dirty thoughts you can’t help but be even more affected than usual.

“You take my cock like a pro, mh. You like it, don’t you, my pretty little slut? Oh, I just know you’re loving this. Bet your little vibrator couldn’t make you feel this good.”

He’s pressing down on your belly, making the pressure on your navel feel ten times more intense, and all you can focus on is how he’s spreading you open. “It’s so big Ran- Ah,” he thinks your words are gonna get to his head. He has to keep a solid grip on you not to melt at your praise, “Fuck Ran, please, please baby.”

“What is it that you want, use your words.”

“I wanna come, pleasee, I need it so bad,” He loves how polite you are, asking for it with a please. He’d give it to you no matter what, but he appreciates how much you’re trying for him. He knows you can get a little hot-headed, or maybe he just found that one field where you finally succumb and let others take care of you.

Ran reaches over to the forgotten toy and switches it back on before placing it over your neglected and pulsating clit. He never had anything against sex toys, he doesn’t see the harm in using them to bring more pleasure to his partners. He knows you could come from his cock alone, but he needs to feel you gushing around him right about now, before he loses it. He wants to see you dripping to the ground before he fills you up to the brim.

You grasp a handful of his hair and pull it without shame as he fucks you with abandon while rubbing your clit with the vibrating toy. He has to hold your thigh open with one of his big hands because you keep clenching your muscles, and he needs to watch as you come undone.

“Fuuck,” you’re cursing loudly, without a care for your poor neighbors who must be going crazy with the loud noises at such a late hour.

Ran is hitting all the right places, he’s prodding and searching all over your body like he needs to study it, to learn it, and knowing him and how attentive he is, you’re sure that the next time it will take him half of the time to get you there. Or maybe he’ll use his knowledge to drag it out like the teasing little shit he is.

But who said anything about a next time? You’re not even sure as to why the two of you have fallen into bed together, but what you know with certainty is that you’re perception of Ran has shifted the moment he cut his hair.

It might be crazy, ruining a years-long friendship over something so trivial, but it’s like your best friend Ran was the one with the braids, and the one you’re sitting on top of, who’s kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, who’s bulkier and more charming and wears purple striped suits, is someone else entirely, but someone that you love all the same.

You’ll always cherish your braided Ran as your friend, but this older version of him will not be able to live inside your mind while battling your feelings as you’ve always done.

The man in the mirror looks at you with lust, but under all of that is the shade of his unchanging lavender hues, the ones who have been staring at you with unnamed affection for years. Maybe it’s time to let go of that uncertainty and fall into him once and for all.

“Ran, I’m gonna come.” He’s so good at reading your body already that he doesn’t stop, he just forgoes the vibrator opting to massage your clit with his thumb, spreading you open with two fingers, while his other hand reaches your boobs. He knows how sensitive they are, he remembers you telling him once, and that’s why he has avoided touching them until now.

His fingers alternate pinching and pulling at the erected nipples, and his hand grasps the entirety of your left beast to pull you down as you try to fight his thrusting and press you onto him.

He noses at your cheek, inviting you to meet him for a kiss. It’s a deep one, with tongues entangling and teeth bumping against each other, he has to rein you in as you’re panting and mumbling.

You don’t have the strength to speak anymore, but Ran knows the exact moment you dangle and trip over the edge because you squeeze him so tight he lets out a string of curses.

He feels you gushing around him, the squelch of wetness becoming even more loud making his cheeks tint red. He’s never been shy when it comes to sex, but the way he’s fucking you now it’s so nasty that he can’t believe how you’re letting him. His sweet girl.

Now that you’ve come on his cock, he slows down his hips to avoid overstimulating you, and he helps you regain your breathing as he kisses your cheek, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Mh- Fuck,” Your cunt is squeezing him so hard, coherent thoughts are slowly leaving his mind in favor of you. Nothing else matters now but you.

Ran has to gather all of his remaining strength to slip from you and lay you down on your white sheets. Big eyes are looking up at him as he just hung the moon and the stars, and from his position, he gets to watch your face contort in pleasure as he slides right back inside your wet heat.

“Ran-“ “I know, baby.” Your nails are raking down his chest, red marks showing up on the untattooed side of his body. Your neck is straining as you press the back of your head into the pillow, and he eyes the still unblemished skin before placing his lips on your pulse point, sucking and biting as he goes.

His thrusts are slow but deep, you can feel the heat building up in the pit of your belly all over again. You buck up against him, watching as he lets out moan after moan, getting closer to his end. He sounds so fucking good.

He wants to drag this out, scared of what might come after the both of you come down from your highs, so he pins down the side of your hips with one hand, resting on his hunches as he grasps both of your wrists in the other and raises them over your head.

He’s circling his hips now, rubbing his navel against your clit and relishing in all the pretty noises you’re letting out.

“Pretty girl- can you come fo’ me one more time? You’ve been s’good to me, gimme another. Just one- one more,” Ran’s voice is strangled, he’s trying to hide how much the pulsing of your cunt is affecting him, with very little success. His balls are strained and heavy with cum, he wants you to come around him as paints your walls in white.

You’re moving to break free from his grip but his strength doesn’t let you, so you try begging for him, “Rannn, more! Please, need more, I’m so close- Wanna cum.” You’re whining, sweat running down your body, he looks at how your skin is glistening and wants to lick you up.

Ran has never been able to tell you no, so he moves the hand that was holding you down to your neck, thumb resting over your pulse as he squeezes enough to make you feel it. His hips resume his thrusting with a purpose.

“Cream on my cock, ‘m gonna fill you up, angel,” and you do just that, on command. Ran thinks you ruined every other woman for him, right there and there. It’s like you were fucking made for him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, babygirl.”

He’s right behind you, mouth parting as he groans and repeats your name like a fucking prayer. You’re arching your back, your chests are pressed together and Ran swears he can hear the sound of your heartbeat as he fills you up with cum.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and eyelids fighting to stay open, his purple eyes are taking you in. Your legs are locked behind his back and his hips keep pressing against yours as he slowly drags out your highs, cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to fuck it back into you.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you manage to let out in surprise after regaining your breath. Ran lets go of you the moment his mind is clearer, and when you feel him slip out from within you, for a moment you’re scared he’s gonna get dressed and leave you laying there.

But Ran just parts your legs before you can close them in shyness, and takes one good look at the mess you’ve both made before diving in. He’s happy he’s gotten to fuck you raw, so now he gets to taste how good you are together.

You’re still so sensitive that when his tongue makes contact with your folds, you tremble. He takes his time in eating it out of you, loud smacks and wet noises can be heard as he does, along with his hums of approval, “Mhh, taste so fucking good, baby. Wanna try?”

You furiously nod at that, dragging him away from your heat before he gets in his head that he needs to make you come again; you don’t think you’d be able to do that now, the overstimulation from those simple touches already taking you to the verge of crying for him.

Ran finally kisses you again, tongue slipping past your lips to make do with his promise, and you moan in appreciation at the taste of you combined. Everything he does is just so fucking hot.

He doesn’t stop once you do, and risks stripping you of your breath completely, but you’re not any better. The last thing you want now is for him to not kiss you anymore, so you grip his infamous hair once again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you’ve always liked doing to get a reaction out of him.

Ran shakes in your hold, he has to pull away or he’s gonna fuck you all over. He can feel himself getting hard against your thigh, so he decides to leave your embrace. He’s aware of the elephant in the room, and his maturity is screaming at him to talk things out before he can fall right back into it.

“Ran… please, don’t leave,” he glances back at you because of the way your voice breaks while muttering that sentence. His heart clenches when he sees your lash line glisten with unshed tears, so his hands find their way to your pretty face to hold it as he stands close to the edge of the bed, bending over you. He kisses the tip of your nose, then takes your mouth in a chaste kiss.

“‘M not going anywhere, my love. Just need to take care of my pretty girl. Give me one minute and I’ll be right back, okay?”

A simple “‘mkay,” leaves your lips in a mumble, and Ran helps remove the sheet from under your spent body to cover you with it before leaving the room.

It takes you a few seconds to elaborate on everything. Aside from what happened in the past hour, you’re now fixating on the names he just called you. My love. My pretty girl.

His? You definitely are, you just didn’t think he knew.

Once he steps back in the room, you notice he’s cleaned himself up and wore his discarded boxers. You take him in while he walks closer, silently appreciating his physique as you’re used to doing. But this time you get to recognize the bruises and red marks littering his body as something you’ve done yourself.

As promised, he’s carrying a wet towel and a bottle of water, and he carefully cleans you up with the former.

After making sure you’re hydrated, he settles by your side under the sheets and drapes his arms around your waist as both of you lay on your respective sides, facing one another.

“I was planning on giving you a gift, after the party was over, y’know? But you just had to run away,” he lets out a big sigh, as if thinking back to your fight makes him drained all over again.

“What is it?” You ask, as curious as always. He loves this side of you. He loves you, actually.

“I gave Rin one of my braids after I cut them off. I was thinking about giving you the other one,” your eyes widen, and the movement of your fingers running over his collarbone stops as you ponder over his words. “I know how much you like them, so did I. Want my two favorite people to keep them safe for me.”

Your heart has never beaten this fast, you think it might start overheating and set your whole body on fire. You bat your eyelashes, willing the tears away as you hook your hands under his face, gently stroking his jaw.

“Thank you,” is the last thing you whisper before closing the distance, repaying him with another short but sweet kiss.

When you separate, you lean your forehead against his and he softly calls your name. In the closeness of your embrace, you meet his lavender haze, “I love you.”

The only thing that follows his sentence is silence. You think you must’ve fallen asleep, this has to be another one of your dreams, one of those sweet ones you used to have when Ran still had his braids and the two of you were younger.

Ran could easily take your stillness as an answer. He could fall victim to his hidden insecurities and make you think he meant it in a platonic way to somewhat try and save what remains of your friendship. But he knows that no matter what your response to his confession might be, he wouldn’t take it back for the world. There’s simply no getting over you.

“Don’t misunderstand,” He knows how much you overthink, that’s why he should’ve said this before. “I’m in love with you, always have been.”

You think your heart must’ve stopped completely now.

“Ran…” “Sh, I know, it’s okay.” He feels the need to comfort you straight away, to let you know that not sharing his feelings is okay. He’s always gonna be there for you, no matter what. “God, Ran, I love you so much.”

The lips that suddenly find his, again and again, are not the only thing taking his breath away. Both of you cannot believe how stupid you are, how you’ve been in love this whole time while thinking the other could never see you that way. His hands are all over your heated skin, caressing down your back as you hold him closer.

“Want you to be mine, baby.”

“‘m yours Ran,” his kisses are spreading everywhere he can reach, he’s getting drunk on you once again. Bitten lips part to let out panting breaths, and you notice soon enough how the newfound confessions are affecting not only yours truly.

Heady eyes and tinted cheeks present themselves to you. You think the marron of his natural blush and the shade of purple staining his pale skin look a lot like the color of the hair that started this all. You love it already, just like you love him.

And Ran lets you happily grip onto it as he takes you again and again, that night. No more wet dreams that leave you running away from him, he’s gonna make sure to fill your nights with something that’ll make you want him even closer, every day, from now on.

Right before falling asleep, as dawn leaves space for daylight behind your closed curtains, you take one last look at your sleepy Ran.

You comb back his messy hair to uncover his pretty face, softly kissing his forehead before falling into a dreamless sleep. There’s no need for dreaming anymore, you have everything you want and need right here in your arms.

Might have to send his hairstylist a bottle of wine as thanks, though.

[cheezeybread]

Ooh! Can I have some clothing thief boyfriend headcanons for the dorm leaders? What you did for Jamil was adorable!

THE CLOTHES THIEF STRIKES AGAIN ! Short hcs because I have a headache right now, ehehe :')

Ft: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Malleus, Idia

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

- This all depends on how big you are compared to Riddle- if you're around the same size as him or smaller, then you have no issue wearing his clothes! If his clothes are too small for you, however, you're going to have to find a way to repurpose his apparel to fit you (either by buying yourself clothes to match him, or stealing some of his larger jackets, any headpieces he wears, etc)

-Either way, Riddle is going to be completely K.O.'d everytime he sees you wearing anything of his.

-At first, he thought it was a simple thief in his dorm, stealing his own clothes as retribution for his strict enforcement of the rules. But it didn't tale too long before Ace texted him a photo of you, saying that the Prefect got a new set of duds that looked just like his!

-You sneaky bastard, you took his clothes! He'll be sure to give you a firm rebuke on the rudeness of stealing other's properties without their permission. But he didn't say you couldn't have his clothes...

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

-He can't be bothered to put up an act of getting his clothes back from you. Others might at least try to put on a show of getting their belongings back from their s/o before begrudgingly allowing them to win, but Leona? Nah, he ain't about to put up a fake fight for his clothes, not when you look so cute in them!

-It was to be expected, if he were honest. He could have guessed you were the type to be a nabber in the relationship

-What he DIDN'T know was how you got his stuff in the first place. You were always with him in his room, and he never once saw you grab anything on your way out??

-Turns out you were hiring Ruggie to knick some shirts and sweatshirts! Ruggie, that traitor...

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

- Why were you wearing one of his suit's jackets??? He was absolutely confused, yes, partially because in the ocean, merfolk didn't wear that much clothing, so swapping clothes with your s/o was unheard of to him, and partially because stealing the jacket to one of his suits was so impractical!

-Like, do you know the upkeep and maintenence needed for that type of material?? He had so many better options! Well, maybe not...most of his attire was fancy clothing...besides his pajamas, but even then, his pajamas were silk material

-So once he figured out what you were doing, Azul just so happened to buy himself some more comfortable loungewear...of course, he had no intention of wearing them himself (he had a business image to maintain!). Leaving them out where you can see them was enough temptation for you to take "his" new clothes...

KALIM AL-ASIM

-Oh, you wanted his clothes? Absolutely!

-He'd probably suggest clothes-swapping, actually. It's such a fun and exciting concept for Kalim! He's always had his own clothes, tailored specifically for him! The notion of wearing someone else's clothing, especially his boyfriend's, was too endearing to pass up!

-So expect lots of clothes shopping so he could figure out your size to buy new clothes for you. Although you have to remind him that it's not exactly clothes-swapping if he's just buying them for you in the first place....

-But he ends up claiming that he's buying them for himself, and just so happened to buy them in your size instead of his...

-Bless his heart, he has good intentions.

VIL SHOENHEIT

-Oh, darling, that outfit is NOT your color.

-He likes the idea of you wearing his clothes, but he absolutely cannot get over how his clothes don't match you! His attire is meant specifically for his skin and complexion! You need something that matches your own!

-In the end, he agrees to compromise with you and buy matching outfits. Although it kills him having to tell you no to wearing his clothes, it's for the best.

-However, he will most definitely allow you to wear his pajamas! Those aren't off the table yet!

IDIA SHROUD

-Out of all of the Housewardens, Idia has THE most comfortable clothes to steal

-He's a gamer who frequently shuts himself off from the outside world, are you seriously going to tell me that he doesn't have sweatpants and hoodies in all sorts of colors and sizes?? And soft lining on the insides of all of them??

-Tbh, he almost dies the first time you come around wearing a hoodie he thought he misplaced weeks ago

-Totally a Grade-A flustered man when he sees you wearing anything of his, even months into your relationship

MALLEUS DRACONIA

-Utterly unfazed by you showing up in one of his shirts.

-"Is this one of those fads, child of man? If so, please have whatever out of my closet that you see fit :)"

-Such a king, honestly.

-However, like Azul, he doesn't have that manual lounge-y clothes, so he'll have to go out on a special shopping trip for some comfortable attire for you- and him, as well! He figures that laying around with you will improve the relationship and strengthen the bond between the two of you.

-And by damn, he's right!

[tarjapearce]

Hi hi! Thank you for letting me go ahead and send it through! I didn’t want to overwhelm you, that’s absolutely fine still take your time and keep taking those breaks mamas!

I’ve seen a lot of single dilf Miguel x reader but I don’t think I’ve ever read where reader was a single parent. So I was thinking reader is new to spider society and on the day she’s told to join she has to bring her baby because she didn’t have a babysitter. Well Miguel sees her and it’s like he’s instantly drawn to her like sunflowers are to the sun, sunflowers move where the sun goes and when the sun doesn’t shine they face each other (She’s kinda like his day and night if that makes sense) but instead of acting on it he dismisses her but kinda admires her and her baby from a distance.

Well one day she’s having a small part for the main group and she invited Miguel because she always felt the feelings but also dismissed them. Then after the party he stays to help and the end up getting closer and yeah. It can be nsfw I don’t mind, I also hope this makes sense it’s been in my mind for a while and you’d be so good for this!

The rest is all up to you if you decide to write it pretty girl. Just remember to take your time and all the breaks you need. Mental, physical, and emotional health is important don’t overwork yourself 💕

Im so sorry this taken me soo long. Hope this make it justice 😊❤️. Thanks for requesting dear.

If it wasn't for the webs that stopped Rhino as he was about to deliver the last blow to you, you'd be certainly gravely injured or worse.

Another Spiderwoman, clad in a red, yellow and black suit had helped you through. Both of your minds in sync, that soon earned you the win over a now unconscious Rhino.

She introduced herself as Jessica Drew. Another Spiderwoman from another universe. At first her explanation of what the Arachnohumanoid-Polymultiverse was, had your head spinning and confused, but after quite a while of visiting you on duty, and clearing up as much questions you needed, you had been officially 'invited' to join, by Miguel’s orders.

You've never met the man, but the way people talked about him, made you not only curious but excited to meet him. Everyone described him as a good yet scary boss.

----

"Let's go"

"Hope you don't mind?" Your nervous smile reached Jess as you packed in your child's stuff in the baby sling. A couple of diapers, extra clothes and bottles.

"Look at this beautiful boy" Jessica held him as you finished packing up stuff, "Didn't know you had one"

"Oh, well. You never asked. Plus we always met on duty. The babysitter I get for him called in sick and I have none as a back up. Hope Miguel doesn't mind."

"What about his dad?"

Your head shook softly and sighed.

"He decided to not be part of our lives."

Jessica just nodded, lips pursing.

"His loss, really. Anyways, ready to go?"

------

Not even in your wildest dreams you'd imagine something as The Babylon Tower or HQ as most Spiders called it, could exist. Different sort of Spiders paraded around and greeted Jess upon her arrival.

Some even greeted your toddler that cooed and giggled upon the many heroes that came his way.

"Let's get you to Miguel." Jess walked ahead and you followed, you baby's eyes wandered, marveling at the different colors and people. You'd sometimes make hamocs and web playgrounds for him to be more active. Your babysitter was the only person you could actually trust your identity, she had even helped you sometimes by calling the cops, or even fixing your suit.

Another man in a pink bathrobe approached and gasped at your baby

"Please tell me we're getting a Spider Parents exclusive division now."

You chuckled and Jess just rolled her eyes

"Sweetie, this is Peter."

"As in Peter Parker?"

"Nah. As in Peter Benjamin 'B' Parker."

"Oh... And whose that cutie over there?" Your eyes trailed to Mayday as she beamed at you.

"Mayday. A lil spider in growth"

"She has spider powers?! Oh my goodness!"

"It's chaos, I know. What about yours?"

"Normal baby so far. Should I be concerned?"

"Not really, it comes in the least unexpected moment and them BAM! Spider baby. "

You giggled as you made your way through the halls to a much more secluded and dark area.

"Miguel?"

Your baby couldn't help but babble as a hulking figure approached from the furthest corner.

"He's so dramatic" Peter whispered and again, you giggled under your mouth.

Jess introduced you both and explained your progress to him. Apparently they had been observing you for quite the time.

" I apologize for bringing my child. My babysitter called in sick."

"No problem."

Even though his voice was calm, the coldness in it made you recoil to yourself. His scrutinizing gaze fixed on you and your baby. By instinct you held him close.

Red eyes settled on yours, but the subtle stare contest was interrupted by the anomaly alarm.

-----

As your time in the Spider Society advanced, your interactions with Miguel improved significantly, and by that it'd mean longer conversations, a joke here and there and of course moments so subtle between you both that you had to be quite analytical to know that he gave glances your way or lean to you slightly whenever speaking to him.

Not that you were inmune to his looks, but his patience stood proudly among his other virtues. And to your surprise he seemed to handle Mayday well enough. What actually made you to be drawn to him is that in one of your many occasions that you couldn't leave your baby boy alone, and brought him into HQ with you, he'd be instantly looking for Miguel.

Your cheeks would flush impossibly red as your baby clung to his leg and erupted in a bubbly laughter.

"God, I'm so so sorry, he just... seem to like the blue alot."

An airy chuckle was everything that escaped his lips. Of course there was so many questions he'd want to do out of curiosity. He had noticed you didn't wear a ring, neither talked about the baby's father. It was something he never seemed to coax out of you. No matter how subtle he was about it.

Pa pa

You both froze as your baby mumbled and grabbed a few strands of his hair.

"I'm so sorry..." You pried the baby away from him and fled the place as soon as you could. He just watched you leave, the inner turmoil in his heart was surely playing dirty. The way the baby had clung to him, and climbed ontop of his chest made his heart to leap after a long long while.

-----

You had been avoiding him, for sure. Ever since your little incident with the baby mumbling his first words, you had taken your distance with him. Of course you weren't ready for your baby's actions, but the fear of going through all that again, had surely dismissed all possible blooming feelings you had for your boss. Besides he seemed way too busy and aloof to try and pursue anything with anyone.

Not that you blamed him, the multiverse depended basically on him. It was for the best.

----

The moment you were falling asleep, your Spider senses tingled so hard you had a little headache coming your way.

Dread settled on your brain as your baby boy screamed and wailed.

No No No!

You were already darting towards his room, and pulled him with one of your webs towards you, holding onto him for dear life as the creature shredded his crib to bits with its elongated talons.

Your eyes went wide at the sudden action, your baby kept wailing in fear, earning the humanoid like creature to snap it's attention to you. You were fast, but the creature was faster and sliced through your flesh in one of your sides. You fell on your back protecting your son from the impact with a groan.

You needed to get out, or at least put your baby out of danger.

Survival mode kicked in as you dodged and took as much damage as you could from the creature that seemed way too keen into hurting your child.

You fought but exhaustion was taking over, the blows of the creature only seemed harder and powerful, but no matter what your priority was to keep your child safe, even if it costed your life.

The creature pounced on you, but the final blow never came. There was a commotion as you tried to get up, all you could hear was inhuman shrieks, growlings and finally the engine of a too familiar motorcycle revving up.

Your baby was pried away from your hands and you whimpered

"N-No!" even in your injured state, your mother instinct kicked in.

Your name was called, several times until you were held against a sturdy yet warm body with such care and tenderness that stilled your thrashing body. Vision blurred, but the last thing you saw the led lights of a blue and red suit, red eyes staring at you with concern.

-----

You woke up in HQ's medical bay. Pain surging through your body as you tried to sit down, Miguel's hand stopped you. Face with his ever permanent frown and something else. Worry.

"Where's... Where's my baby?"

"He's fine. Out of danger." His hands reached for a new set of bandages, he took your arm gently and began replacing the bandages himself, some were stained in a fresh layer of blood.

The silence fell upon you both until he decided to break it.

"You... were brave. We still don't know what that creature was, yet you didn't hesitate to fight back."

"It was going for my son... If I would've got there a second too late..." Voice broke and eyes filled up with tears.

The knot only tightened around his throat upon remembering the anomaly alarm in your world and saw you fighting for your son's life. He didn't think twice before jumping into action.

"The anomaly was terminated."

Terminated, not contained.

"I see"

"Your safety is all that matters to... this organization"

To me

You nodded

"Thanks."

----

He had learned that you were a single parent thanks to Jessica. Something he had trouble understanding sometimes. How could a man abandon his own family? He'd give everything to have one more chance and at least make things right, he wouldn't interfere with Gabriella, no matter how much he'd like to, just to keep her safe and alive.

But seeing you fighting for your son, made that side of him he thought buried forever to claw back full force on him. You were a great mother that wouldn't hesitate to attack and lash out at everything that menaced your son. It was the last straw for him.

----

A couple of months had gone by since your incident, and as a retribution you had decided to do a small gathering. Not only to say thanks to them, but to also celebrate your son's birthday.

Wounds were properly healed thanks to Miguel's attention and cares. Music echoed through your apartment. You weren't sure he'd show up, but the invitation was delivered to him.

Your son was having the time of his life as Peter and Jess played with him. Mayday was such a great play date and everyone seemed to have a great time. A portal was open to your kitchen and Miguel stepped out. Suit underneath civilian clothes. It was weird to see him out of the blue and red suit you were always used to see.

"Hey" You smiled and he placed a little present in your hands.

"Hope he likes it."

"I'm sure he will, thanks."

Your smile turned bashful as he leaned on the kitchen counter. Your place seemed normal, cozy even. Full with your son and you pictures. One was cut out and the only trace of a man existing in your life was the forgotten hand you were oblivious in cutting out. And even so, he seemed unsure since his fingers were barely touching you or your son.

"Here." You offered a plate full of food, which he took and scarfed down.

"When was the last time you actually ate?"

His eyes locked on yours, wide by the sudden question.

"There is more if you want to."

"I don't want to overstep-"

"The rest already had their portion. And I frankly went a bit overboard with it. So it's fine."

Your baby's laughter roared from the other side, earning you a chuckle.

"I'm... sorry though"

"For?"

"Him, calling you that. I know what happened and I'm sure it's not nice to just-"

"Couldn't blame a baby. Is it... ok for me to ask what happened to the father?"

"He just decided that we weren't enough for him. So he went for a new one. Away from us."

His eyebrows knit deeper and a light scowl drew in his face.

"But, it's fine. It's less of a burden knowing that you don't have to raise another man child."

He chuckled and nodded

"You're a great mother." You served him another plate but stopped when the corner of his mouth was doused in sauce. Giggling you reached for napkin and got in your tip toes.

"Excuse me" You wiped his mouth and smiled, "Sorry, can't help it"

His hand went to the back of your nape and leaned down for a kiss.

"Lo siento..." (Im sorry)

It was something that felt out of his character, he knew much, but it couldn't be helped. You had come like a little storm that turned into a hurricane in his heart. And that harrowing night where he saw you fighting with everything you had, only grounded him into allowing himself to feel and experience for once.

You got in your tip toes again and pulled him down for a kiss. There was no words needed, just a look of mutual understanding and complicity between the both. A kiss in the palm of your hand sealed up the implicit deal.

You were his now.

[sunnybeewriting]

peachy keen.

Hi guys! So I'm pretty new to writing and this is actually the biggest thing I’ve ever written. I watched The Way of Water when it came out and took an immediate interest in this guy, partially because I thought his character has a lot of potential, and partially because I also thought that he was really hot.

So I decided to set up a series of little works. This one is just sort of a beginning to the Reader’s character and Quaritch, and I do plan on writing more about them in the future with this fic as their base. Maybe do some AU’s, maybe just continue the story from here, maybe lead into the movie, who knows!

That all said, I really, really hope you like it! If you do, please give it a like or a comment!

WORDS: 15,000

WARNINGS: Adult themes and language

peachy keen. Part Two.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Your body jerks to a stop just before you can fully trip over your shoelace and faceplant onto the floor. Unfortunately, the leftover food on your plate could not say the same, jostled just enough that it went flying from your hands and onto the tiled floor of the mess hall.

You lean down quickly to clean it up, scooping the food with your fingers and back onto the plate as best you can. You succeed only halfway, goop just smearing across the floor and onto your hand.

You stare at the mess you made, ears and cheeks burning as you hear snickers of cruel amusement coming from some military meatheads a few feet behind you.

You jump up quickly, making sure to avoid your shoelace so you don’t trip on it again and embarrass yourself any further. You hurry to the counter holding the utensils, mugs, and paper towels, tugging several brown napkins out of the dispenser sitting on top. You take a deep breath to calm yourself.

Kneeling down so soon after sleeping for six years in a cyropod made the muscles in your legs and shoulders ache, but you do it anyways. You wipe up the mess as best you can, piling the dirty napkins onto the plate and dumping it all into a nearby trashcan. You wish the ground would swallow you up.

You aren’t usually so embarrassed by such a small mistake, but it had been a rough past couple of days for you. You had landed at Bridgehead City just a few days ago, and you had felt immediately overwhelmed by the extreme size of the fortress.

It took the RDA fifteen years to return to Pandora, but when they did, they made sure to put in roots. Bridgehead City was an enormous structure, constantly building upon itself and hosting thousands of military combatants, engineers, skel suits, construction robots, anything that was thought of to build and maintain humanity’s last stronghold. Every person of every imagined career was here, working as one like bees and ants had once done for their queens a hundred years ago, before they had both gone extinct. 

Bridgehead was terrifying to look at for the first time, seeing in person exactly how far humanity was willing to go to force itself onto another planet. You had noticed that it almost looked like a parasite, contrasting in color and material against the lively, glowing rainforest that surrounded it just past the barren land of the Kill Zone.

The wave of information that hit you the moment you stepped off the ship was almost enough to make your excitement to be on Pandora wither and die, but you held onto it with shaky, desperate hands.

Luckily for you, it wasn’t long before your enthusiasm bounced back and you met your new colleagues. Most of them had been just as nervous as you, clearly uncertain and overwhelmed. Knowing you weren’t alone made you relax just slightly. They were scientists hand-picked by the RDA as test subjects for re-opening the Avatar program, just like you.

None of you were really sure why the program had been stopped in the first place. The RDA was very quiet about what had happened all those years ago, when most of their military and scientists had been sent fleeing from Pandora with nothing but the clothes on their backs and tails between their legs. They refused to issue many statements, insisting that a minor misunderstanding had occurred with the ‘natives’ of the planet, and they’d be back soon enough to continue their mission.

The RDA had stated that the main reason for discounting the Avatar program was because the cost outweighed any benefit. The only reason they were allowing a few lucky souls to come to Pandora as Avatars was simply as a favor to the scientific community, and as a test to see if the Avatar program should be reinstated. Now the main purpose behind the program is to see if it’s worth it for people to be able to travel around Pandora without having to worry about the environmental protection systems, than a way to make peace with the Na’vi.

Most of the scientists in the base were only allowed restricted access to information regarding the past and current situation with the Na’vi, only knowing that The People were no longer accepting of humans on their planet and that the military is now on constant high alert. Most of the remaining records were classified to you, although you did try to learn as much as you could about what was happening on Pandora. Unfortunately, the RDA was very strict with that information, and you never found anything that mentioned the Na’vi or what happened fifteen years ago.  

The ten members of the new Avatar program had been divided into two parts of five, just to make the introductions and sessions easier. You had met your three new acquaintances, eager to make some friends. They had introduced themselves; Emma, a small, shy woman who preferred observing rather than participating; James, a sweet, handsome young man; and David, an older man in his late fifties who seemed a bit too haughty for his own good.

Your group was shown to your individual rooms over on the west side of Bridgehead, far away from the landing pads and ships you had arrived on. Your new room was small and gray with concrete walls and a thin layering of carpet covering the cold floors. You had a small desk that sat underneath a suction-locked window that let you glimpse into an enclosure full of construction robots, but at least the light it let in was nice. There was a simple cot in the corner and a mirror as the only piece of décor on the walls, but it was yours, a place you could call your own.

You had grinned tiredly and fallen face down on your bed without bothering to take off your shoes. You slept for fourteen hours, and when you awoke you felt as though you were rising from the dead, hair wild and mouth fuzzy. After you brushed your teeth, showered, got dressed in clean clothes, and ate food for the first time in six years, you felt like a brand-new person.

And here you are now, in the mess hall, already making a fool of yourself on your second week.

You quickly rush back to your table and plop your behind into the seat you had vacated to throw away your plate, sitting across from Emma and David. Emma is poking at her food, face pale and gloomy. David is almost done with his own dinner, glasses perched on his nose as he reads from a holotablet.

Geesh. These guys certainly weren’t known for being the life of the party back home.

Maybe they just need some more time to adjust? I know I certainly fucking do.

You take a moment to bend down and tie your shoelace, double knotting it, not wanting to cause any more scenes.

When you sit back up in your chair and make eye contact with Emma, your lopsided, embarrassed smile falls from your face when she simply stares back at you, clearly uneasy for some reason you can’t name.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking clumsy. And why the fuck does it look like you’re all attending a funeral over here?” The voice that chimes up behind you lifts your mood exponentially, and you turn around in your seat to greet the approaching form of the last member of your group and your best friend with a happy grin.

You had met Margot a few months before your trip to Pandora when you both attended a required conference that would discuss certain parts of living in Bridgehead. The second you struck up a conversation with her, it was like meeting your long-lost sister. You had instantly clicked, getting on like a house on fire and scarcely spending a day away from each other.

James arrives at the table with her, holding his own plate. He gives you a comforting look, clearly sympathetic to your embarrassment.

“Hey Margot, James! You saw that, huh?” you ask sheepishly, shoulders raising to your ears as you feel a hot flash of mortification all over again.

“Uh, yeah, honey, I saw. I’m pretty sure half the cafeteria watched you nearly eat shit. You need to learn to tie your shoes better, babe.” Margot’s voice is just as loud as ever, and her bright blonde hair and tall figure aren’t exactly subtle, either.

She was the type of person to grab someone’s attention and refuse to let it go, manicured nails digging in deep. Well, her nails used to be manicured. Now they were just as plain as everyone else’s.

She takes a seat in the empty chair next to you, setting her own plate down with a clatter. She untucks her cheap silverware from the napkin and digs into her dinner, eating hurriedly like someone is about to snatch the plate away from her. You had once asked her why she never slowed down to enjoy her food, and she said that with eight siblings if you wanted any food, you needed to eat it like an animal.  

James takes the other empty seat next to you, patting your shoulder twice before saying, “It’s okay, I don’t think that many people saw.”

You smile weakly at his attempt to make you feel better. It doesn’t help much, but you appreciate the thought, “Thanks, James.”

He nods and moves his attention to his plate.

Your table is silent for a few moments, everyone lost in their own thoughts and tasks.

You break the silence when you nervously ask, “So. Anybody else freaking out at the thought of linking up for the first time or is it just me?”

David looks up, paying attention to your words for the first time since you met him. “Well, I’m not nervous because I did all the pre-linking sessions and training years ago.” His nose is practically raised in the air.

You stare at him.

What a fucking douchebag. Who answers a question like that?

“That’s nice. What about you, Emma, are you nervous or excited? How are you feeling?” you ask gingerly, wanting to include her in the conversation. It would be nice to have another friend so that the next few years weren’t miserable.

Emma stares at you blankly, and then whispers a simple, “No.”

You lean back in your seat and deflate. “Oh.”

Fuck it, I tried.

Margot, the smug bitch, is watching you drown in social awkwardness as she happily munches away. You give her a look and a shrug, and she rolls her eyes before placing her fork down on the table. She dabs the corner of her mouth with her napkin, and then says to Emma, “Girl, I absolutely love that bracelet you’re wearing. Where did you get it?”

To your surprise, Emma perks up in her seat, right hand grazing the bracelet she wore on her left wrist. Her face softens, and she says, “It was my mom’s, actually.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. Right?” Margot jabs her sharp elbow into your side, and you hiss but nod hurriedly.

“Yes, that is so sweet! I wear my mom’s wedding ring, actually.” You rub said ring with your hand. Your mood drops a little bit at the mention of your mother, but you shake your head to get back on track. “Makes me feel closer to her, I suppose.”

A small smile pulls on Emma’s cheeks, and she looks down, still rubbing the bracelet. “Yeah.”

You look at her, reconsidering your thoughts about her personality. 

Maybe it just takes a little time to connect, that’s all.

You fiddle with the small, emerald cut ring that you were on the ring finger of your right hand. It had been a piece of jewelry your mother had worn faithfully until the day she died.

When you were a child, around ten or eleven years old, you had asked her why your dad had chosen that specific ring to represent their marriage, out of the hundreds of others he could have.

She was still sick at the time, spending most of her days laying in a hospital bed while nurses bustled in and out. She had lost so much weight that her cheeks were gaunt, and her face and hands were so white they were almost transparent, pale blue veins clear through the skin.

Her lips were pale and chapped, and the dark circles around her eyes were deeply imprinted in her skin like bruises. She looked like a ghost, a fragile, terrifying imitation of the woman who had raised you, a woman who you had thought put the stars themselves into the sky. She was weak, and even before she passed away it was like she was already dead.  

She had gripped your hand as tightly as she could when you had asked that question, sweaty palm squeezing yours to the point of pain in a rare show of strength. She was usually so weak the nurses and you had to feed her by hand as she could barely lift up her arms. She looked you in the eye and pulled you close until your face was right next to hers.

In the croak that had now become her voice, she whispered, “I had asked the same question, years after he had proposed. I asked, ‘Jonathon, why this ring? Why this cut, why this color?’. And he had gripped me tightly and pulled me close and said, ‘Well, my love, it’s the breathtaking green color of your eyes. Your eyes and the ring match exactly, you see. And every time you look at it, you will see yourself the way I see you. Beautiful and bright.’

Tears had filled her glazed eyes, and she whispered to you, “No matter what, when you find the one you love, never let them go. Cherish every single second you have with them, never take them for granted, and make sure that they love you for everything that you are, the good and the bad. It is the purpose of our life. Love. Without it, we are nothing.” Against the tears and the agony that claimed her face and voice, your mother smiled for the first time in years.

Your father had passed away while your mother was still pregnant, killed in an easily avoidable accident. No matter how much your mother loved you before she had gotten sick, no matter how much joy you brought to her life, there was always a deep sorrow and grief inside her that consumed her soul every day.

She never got over your father, never dated or remarried or showed the barest hint of interest in anyone else. When asked why, she said that she had already had the love of her life, and there was no one who could ever compare to even the lingering ghost of your father that seemed to haunt her.

And when the sickness truly hit and reduced her to almost nothing, her anger and bitterness twisted her mind and her love for you into something cruel and abhorrent. 

Even years later you kept her whispered words locked away into the very muscles of your heart. Even though your mother had been sick and weak when she told you these things, it was one of your few beloved moments with her. It had shown you who your mother really was, past all the sickness and malice, who she really was deep in her soul. That she had once loved and been loved.

And now you wear her wedding ring as a reminder of your parent’s love for each other, and how regardless of your mother’s cruelty toward you during the last years of her life, your love for her would never fade.

You’re jerked out of your melancholy thoughts when Margot burps loudly and thumps a fist against her chest.

“Jesus Christ, Margot. Where the fuck did you learn your manners from?” James asks, recoiling in disgust.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m almost done, then we can go check out the linking center.”

You nod eagerly, so overwhelmed with anticipation and delight that your fingers tremor just slightly.

You are so ready to meet your Avatar and link up for the first time, but the thought of anything going wrong makes you restless. You wish you could just get it over with so you could stop agonizing over it.

Margot finally finishes her food and stands up to dump her plate. James does the same, and then all five of you are off, walking down a long hallway with lots of twists and turns. The fluorescent  lights shine brightly on the ceiling, and you can hear the distant sounds of never-ending construction.

Even with all five of you working together to get to your destination, the new buildings are too much for your group and you get lost in the labyrinth of hallways. James even has to ask a nearby custodian for directions once or twice. When you turn a corner, you spot a bathroom sign, and suddenly you have business to take care of. You pat Margot’s arm and point in that direction.

“Hey, guys, I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

The rest of the group nods, but Margot decides to go with you. You do your business and you’re washing your hands in the sink when Margot makes eye contact with you through the mirror as she washes her own hands.

“I won’t lie, honey, I’m feeling pretty nervous about linking up as well. I know we’ve been through training simulations and have studied and practiced for years, but this is going to be different.” Her face and voice are uncharacteristically serious, and her hands shake just slightly as she pulls a towel out of the dispenser to dry her hands.

You feel a flash of sympathy for your friend, stopping your own drying. You walk around to her and put your hands on her shoulders, leaning your face close to hers.

“It’ll be okay, Margot, we’ve both got this. We just need to do it, and then it’ll be as easy as breathing before we know it, okay?”

Margot nods and takes a deep breath, looking down for a moment. When she looks up she’s much calmer, and her usual peppy attitude is back and shining.

“Thanks, sugar.”

You nod understandingly, releasing her shoulders and knocking her hip with yours as you walk toward the bathroom door. You both step outside into the hallway and continue your way.

“Of course. And besides, I’m just so ready to finally see her, you know? We’ve seen pictures and videos, but actually being there in real life is going to feel so surreal. The Na’vi are just stunning to me. Ooh, I almost forgot!”

You stop walking as you talk, scientist-brain taking over. Margot moves to stand in front of you, crossing her arms over her chest with an amused expression. This was far from the first time you had gone on a tangent.

“I saw someone from the recombinant unit when I was walking around yesterday, and he was fucking huge!”

You’re so busy trying to organize your thought flow into something sensible that you completely miss the approaching footsteps coming from behind you, and the way Margot looks over your shoulder and turns white.

You continue on, oblivious.

“He must have been pretty high ranking because the people with him followed him around like little ducklings. And the blue pigment of his skin was so beautiful. The color contrast of his eyes versus his skin kind of reminded me of a Primula ‘Zebra Blue’, you know, that blue and golden flower that went extinct like a hundred years ago? It was just amazing to finally see in person, and I-”

“Well, aren’t you just a peach?”

The deep voice that comes from behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You whirl around, expecting to come face to face with whomever just spoke. Instead, you come eye level with the belt buckle and zipper of a pair of navy green camo military pants.

Your heart drops to your shoes.

You tilt your head up, up, up, until it’s practically craning backward. The uncomfortable position hurts, but that’s the least of your problems.

Your biggest problem, literally and figuratively, is the cold eyes and carefully amused face of the man you were just talking about.

You open your mouth to speak but words refuse to leave.

Why does this shit always happen to me?

You clamp your mouth shut when no words appear and swallow nervously, and the man notices your tense expression.

He smirks down at you, almost sneering. From the way he towers over you closely, unconcerned with personal space, it’s clear that this man likes to have people’s attention on him, takes pleasure in scaring people with his massive height and muscles.

And his intimidation tactics completely work on you, that’s for sure.

Jesus, look at his hands. He could cover my entire face and upper torso with just one of them!

You want to put as much distance between this frightening man and yourself as possible. But there’s a little voice in the back of your head, a stupid, too-curious little voice, that want you to examine him all the way from the finger pads and palm lines of his hands to the tip of his tail.

He was terrifying, yes, but you are also stunned by the wonderful science and technology that made up his body.

Of course, you’d seen holographs and pictures of Avatars and the Na’vi people, but they could never hold a candle to the real thing.

The navy green tank top, tattoo, and dog tags were all familiar things, but his height and the bright, smooth blue color of his skin were brand-new to you, something you wanted to take a closer look at. His hair was shaved closer to his skull than any other you’d seen, Avatar and Na’vi alike.

His bright yellow eyes sear into yours, and it feels like he is trying to see into your fucking soul.

Your heart rate skyrockets, mortified and thrilled and fearful all at once. The pile of extreme emotions twists your stomach, making you queasy.

Do not fucking puke on his shoes.

The man takes a step back to make room for his massive arm before he lifts it up, clearly holding his hand between you for a handshake. It almost seems as though he is testing your nerve; you wonder how many people had chosen not to shake his hand, too frightened.

“The name’s Colonel Quaritch, pleasure to meet you. What’s your name.” It’s a demand more than a question.  

You look up at his face again before quickly wiping your hands on your lab coat to get rid of any sweat. You grab onto his hand as best as you can with your own, and holy shit.

His hand engulfs your own minuscule one and part of your forearm, his fingers reaching almost all the way to your elbow. And the skin of his hand is surprisingly soft; he doesn’t have as many calluses as you thought a marine would, but that might be because his Avatar body is fairly new. You tell him your name, and say,

“Uh, sorry, sir! I’m a xenobotanist from the science division, I got here about two weeks ago!” Your voice is squeaky and louder than you want it to be, making you cringe. You barely remember to shake his hand as you speak other than simply hold it in your own.

He continues to stare at you, wicked smile only growing when you say you’re a scientist.

“Ah, you tree-huggers are officially back, then. Part of the ‘newly instated Avatar program’, right?”

“Uh, y-yes, sir. That’s us.” You laugh weakly.

He barely twitches the fingers of the hand still holding your own, but the strength that comes from them is enough to make his grip almost painful.

“Hmmm. Well, I’m real curious to see how long you and your friend last before Pandora eats you alive. Just as a friendly warnin’, you should be real careful about what you say and who you say it about ‘round here. Guess I’ll be seein’ you. Peach.”

Your knees weaken and you nod hurriedly.

He finally releases your hand, gives you one last cold, golden look, and continues on his way. His bare arm brushes your shoulder as he passes you, and it’s enough to make you shiver.

He’s gone in just a few seconds, but you stay rooted in your spot, staring at the floor. You’re wondering if he’s going to come back and shank you with the wicked knife you’d seen strapped to his thigh when a hand gently presses against your shoulder.

You leap into the air for the second time that day, hand slamming into your chest and breath coming out in a gasp as you realize it’s just Margot. You’d completely forgotten she was even there, too consumed with the encompassing presence of Colonel Quaritch.

You look at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Margot returns your stunned look, face paler than you’ve ever seen it before.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. You have the worst luck out of anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life. What the fuck just happened?”

You gulp. “I’m pretty sure that a terrifying man who wouldn’t hesitate to gut me overheard me practically gushing about him?”

She nods. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You stand there, practically swaying on your feet. “Oh my god, he fucking hates me! Did you see the look on his face? Oh my god, why is this happening? I’m never going to able to leave my room again!”

You bury your face into your hands, suddenly exhausted. First the mess hall, now this? Why couldn’t you just not embarrass yourself for once?

Margot pats your shoulder as you groan. “There, there. It’s alright, all you have to do is avoid him for the rest of your life. If you don’t, I’m pretty sure the next time you see him he’ll either just ignore you or kill you for saying all that stuff about him, and then you won’t have to worry about it anymore!”

“But I didn’t even mean it in a bad way! I was just describing him, the same way I do with all unknown subjects.”

Margot winces. “Uh, yeah, I would definitely not tell him that.”

------

You feel like whining as you finally continue walking to the linking center. After all that, the excitement you had felt at meeting your Avatar had almost completely disappeared. Now, the only thing you wanted to do was crawl back to your room and hide underneath your blankets forever.

But Margot pulls on your hand and ignores your childish wishes. When you arrive, she practically has to push you into the room.

And then every single thing, all of your hard work, the training, the learning, even the awkwardness of that day, was suddenly all worth it when you saw her for the first time.

She was curled up in the tank, cords attached to her body and eyes moving behind her closed lids. She floated gently around in the liquid that surrounded her, sometimes twitching a limb as she slept on.

You approach the tank, mind blank and mouth dry. As you get closer, you can see the details of her face, your face, just shifted into the feline-like features of a Na’vi.

She stole the breath straight from your lungs.

And that was how you spent the next few weeks, gazing at her slash yourself. Eventually, the time came for the first linkup, and everything went well, just like you had told Margot.

You spent the next month linking into your Avatar and wandering around the facilities, checking your reflexes and consuming everything Pandora had to offer while still in the confined space of Bridgehead City.

The disorientation from linking was enough to make you lay in a cot for an half an hour each time, too dizzy to move much. It’s such a bizarre feeling, suddenly being so much taller than everything else, and you are so much stronger than you are as a human.

It took a long time to remember your strength, and you accidentally put dents into a metal door handle when you grabbed it, squeezing it much harder than you meant to. The tiny little humans helping you gave you a pretty wide berth after that, only approaching when necessary.

You practiced using your new body, walking around without sitting on your long-haired queue or stepping on your new tail, which flailed around with a mind of its own. You liked to press your tongue to your sharp canines and look at the swaying tendrils attached to your hair.

It was an exhausting, thrilling process, and you loved every second of it.

None of the new Avatars had yet to actually leave Bridgehead and go into the forest yet. It would probably take a few more weeks for that to happen, and even then, you would probably only be allowed into the tree line past the Kill Zone.

Still, you eagerly look forward to that day, barely able to contain yourself in your excitement. It’s all you can think of day and night, and even in your dreams. On that day, you would be accomplishing so much more than a lifelong goal.  

Now, your group is relaxing in one of the lounges used for breaks, discussing your experience with linking and Pandora. It was something you’d been talking about for the past few hours, the past few weeks, really. It wasn’t like any of you had very much in common with each other, other than your careers and education, but you were trying to dig a little deeper to learn more about these people.

The only problem was they were more antisocial than not, which was almost to be expected by a bunch of scientists. They were also hesitant to speak much about their past. You were the same way. They probably wouldn’t be here if they had a very pleasant past filled with lots of people they wanted to stay with back home.

You eat the small bag of crackers you’d snagged from one of the vending machines lining the gray walls of the room, hoping that the tiny treat will hold you until your next meal. The chair you are leaning back in creaks dangerously and wobbles, but you hold your precarious position, feet pulled up and crossed on the table in front of you.

Your mind wanders as the chatter of the group drifts in and out of your ears. You think of nothing in particular, dazing out of focus, simply relaxing for once.

That peace is shattered when James leaps from his chair further down the table where he and Emma sit. They’re playing an old-fashioned card game; one you’ve never heard of before. When you asked James where he learned it from, he said his great-grandfather had taught it to him. Something called ‘Go Fish’.

James raises his arms above his head in apparent victory, grinning fiercely.

“That’s round three for me, Emma!”

Emma is giggling behind her hand, cheeks flushed a bright pink. She keeps her eyes on James as he playfully postures at winning, and the sight of her joy makes you grin.

You look across the table at Margot and wiggle your eyebrows. She laughs quietly, nodding in agreement.

Sweet Emma and James. You’re almost surprised that they developed such an obvious, big fat crush on each other out of all people, given that their personalities are so different.

Maybe opposites really do attract?

Whatever the reason may be, you hope your friends find happiness in one another. The world could certainly do with more love.  

Margot scoffs in disgust and curls her lip at her empty plate, apparently already over the tooth-rotting sweetness that was Emma and James.

She throws down her silverware onto the table and leans back in her chair, pout firm on her face.

“The food here is ass! You’d think a multi-trillion-dollar company would be able to feed its employees with something other than more fucking oatmeal. I’m so damn tired of oatmeal! It’s been most of our meals for the past month!”

“The supply shipment is late, you know that.” Is all you say. There is nothing to gain from arguing with Margot when she gets into one of these hungry moods.

“Then they need to make it un-late and bring me my fucking muffins!”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that ‘un-late’ isn’t even a word, but I do agree with you. Oatmeal reserves are getting pretty old.”

Margot nods vigorously, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table.

“Coup? Coup? Anybody interested?”

You throw back your head and laugh, “Margot, we’re not going throw a coup just because there aren’t any muffins! I thought you had saved a bunch of snacks the last time this happened?”

Margot deflates. “I ate them all already and the vending machines are out of my favorites!”

“Oh, Margot.”

“I know! Somebody just put me out of my misery.” She plants her face into her crossed arms on the table, moping.

“You know, you always complain about the food here, Margot, but that never seems to stop you from scarfing it down,” James says, putting himself into your conversation. He sits in his chair still, shuffling the deck of cards as he smirks at Margot.

“I have to eat it, it’s the only thing they have here!”

You open your mouth to say something, only to pause when a big blue hand reaches around the curve of the open doorway like something out of a horror movie. You sit there, gaping, as Colonel Quaritch crouches down through the opening and steps into the break room.

Margot, James, and Emma see your startled face and turn to see what you’re looking at. When they see Quaritch, they all lurch out of their seats to stand up straight. The cards Emma and James were playing with go flying all over the table and the ground, and Margot nearly knocks her plate off the table.

Quaritch straightens up and stands, several feet taller than any of you. He rests his hand on the holster of the belt wrapped around his trim waistline and practically cocks his hip as he looks directly at you.

You’re still sitting, cracker packet now crushed to a pulp in your right hand. When he looks at you, you finally jolt up to your feet. You dust off the cracker crumbs from your shirt as best you can, anxiety filling you.

“S-Sir!”

What the hell is he doing here!?

He saunters into the room until he’s standing by the table, just a few feet from you. You crane your head up to look at him, baffled and worried.

“Is there…anything you need, sir?” You can’t help the way your eyebrows scrunch up as you ask, clearly confused.

He stares down at you, head tilting to the side as if pondering something. Eventually, he speaks.

“Walk with me.”

And then he turns on his heel and ducks out of the room as quickly as he had entered. You stand, frozen, turning a bewildered stare to your group of friends. They stare back at you, just as perplexed, until Margot urges you to follow him with a push of her hand on your back.

You get your limbs to move and start walking after him, exiting the break room and finding him waiting. Once he sees you’re following after him, he continues walking down the hallway without a word.

The silence is almost uncomfortable as you walk several hallway lengths away from the lounge to some unknown destination. You’re almost tempted to break it to ask where the hell he’s taking you, but fear of his biting words keeps your mouth shut.

His legs are so long that his stride is practically jogging for you, and you have to speed walk so you don’t get left behind. He notices you struggling but doesn’t slow down one bit. In fact, the bastard smirks meanly at your frustration and funny walking pace.

You scowl at his amusement but refuse to say a word.

Finally, Quaritch stops in front of an enormous metal door, and he takes a key from his pocket and twists it into the lock on the doorknob. He opens it and walks in, and then gestures for you to do the same with an impatient wave of his hand.

You hurriedly scuttle in, freaking out even more. If he’s taking you to his office then he must have something serious to talk about, right? Was he going to punish you for what you said, was he going to yell at you, threaten you? You’re practically sweating, fingers twisting as your imagination goes wild.

You take a moment to break out of your thoughts and look around.

You pause.

You stand in the middle of the room, eyes locked onto one thing and one thing only: the large bed laying flush up against the corner of the space.

Who keeps a bed in their office? Is the first thing that comes to your mind. Confusion rushes through you and you look around the room, taking in the closet doors, the large desk tucked into the corner across the room parallel to the bed, the empty walls just as barren as your own room.

Your own room.

Ohmygod I’m in his room. Why would he bring me to his room!?

You whirl around, and Quaritch is standing so close to you that your face nearly smacks into his crotch.

You leap backward with a yelp and jump when Quaritch barks out a loud, unfriendly laugh and then sneers at you.

“I would’ve taken you to my office before, but it seems I don’t have one of those anymore. So, this’ll have to do.”

Confusion layered with frustration comes back to you, and your eyebrows furrow. “Do for what, sir?” You barely remember to tack on the ‘sir’ at the end of your sentence.

His face suddenly breaks out into a sharp-toothed grin, and he leans back, smug once more. You were really starting to get tired of that expression.

“I have a… proposition, for you.”

You barely refrain from turning a wide-eyed, horrified look at the bed.

Under any other circumstance, if a man had taken you to his bedroom and said he was propositioning you, you would be real worried. Red flags would pop up in your brain, mind demanding you flee fast.

But these aren’t normal circumstances, given that one of his arms alone is almost as big as your body. And you didn’t really get the impression that was something he was looking for right now, so you shake your head to get rid of any crude thoughts. You refuse to lower your guard, though, still uneasy.

“Uh, a proposition, sir?”

“Yes. You see, I’m under the firm belief that to destroy your enemies, you have to think like ‘em, be like ‘em. Kill like ‘em, eat like ‘em, shit like ‘em, that sorta thing.”

He takes a step closer and you take one back.

“And if I want to have even a snowball’s chance in hell of finding Jake Sully and the rest of the natives, I’m going to need to put myself in their shoes, metaphorically speaking. But most of the people here are military, marines, people with no knowledge of the Na’vi except how best to kill ‘em.”

“So. Who best to teach me how to be Na’vi other than one of the soft-hearted, limp-dicked scientists who just eats up Na’vi shit like it’s Mamma’s home-baked cookies?”

His yellow eyes burn into yours.

“One specific little scientist came to mind, you see, when I was thinkin’.”

You knew it was coming, but that doesn’t stop you from blanching. You shove a finger in your chest and point at yourself like an idiot.

“Me?”

Quaritch finally leans back, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, you.”

You sputter, mind going a thousand miles per hour.

“But-but, I’m not even an anthropologist, sir! I study foreign plant and-and animal life! Emma, she is the one in anthropology, you should talk to her!”

Quaritch scoffs.

“Emma Rodrigo can barely string a sentence together without pissin’ her pants, let alone teach me to do anythin’.” He crosses his arms over his chest, muscles bulging. His wicked teeth glint in the fluorescent lighting as he grins.

“Nah, I think it outta be you. Peach.”

Shit, shit, shit!

I was right, I should have just gone to my room and never come out.

“But-”

“You can say no, ‘course. This ain’t an order.” The look in his eyes says otherwise. If you decline, you’re sure you’ll either be cleaning toilets for the rest of your life or found dead with his knife in your gut. There is no going easy with this guy.

You gape at him, dumbstruck by the bizarre turn your day had taken. You had hoped you would never have to see this terrifying man ever again, fully prepared to cower and duck out of every room you saw him in. Now, he was asking you, of all people on this base, to teach him?

While this guy had the height and look of a Na’vi, he seemed to utterly despise everything about them. Was it even possible for him to learn anything about the Na’vi, their culture and their language, for it to really make a difference in whether he found them or not?

You weren’t even good at teaching! You were far better at learning and observing than educating people, and you had never been interested in changing that. Could you really teach this guy anything? Was he even capable of learning?

Your face hardens as you realize you’re faced with no other choice but to accept.

I guess we’ll see.

“You know, if you’re too chicken-shit to help me out, I could always get-”

“I’ll do it.” Your voice comes out firm, as confidently as you dared to speak to him.

“…oh?” He raises an eyebrow, looking surprised. And skeptical, the asshole.

You nod your head, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You are nervous, yes, but it had been decided. There was no going back now.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Yes. I’ll teach you everything you want to know about the Na’vi. But I-I also want something in return.”

His eyebrow raises higher.

You muster all the courage and audacity you can find in your body. Admittedly, there isn’t much, but you scrounge up enough to say the next few words aloud,

“In exchange for teaching you, I want you to teach me how to fight. I need to be able to protect myself when I’m out in the forest collecting samples, and I would ask one of my friends, but they can barely handle butter knives. And you are obviously…”

You eye him from top to bottom, eyes lingering on his massive arms before you can stop yourself.

“…capable.” You finish lamely, swallowing. You refuse to back down though, tilting your chin up and keeping eye contact.

Quaritch grins slowly.

“Well, little Peach, you certainly have bigger balls than I thought! It’s a deal-”

You hold your hand out for a handshake, palm open.

“To make it official.”

Quaritch glances down at your hand and then at your face, expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he reaches to grasp your hand and most of your arm once more. He pumps your entire arm down three times, eyes never leaving yours.

If you dared to think it, you might have thought he looked almost…impressed.

You clear your throat, face on fire. “So. When would work best for you, for our lessons?”

“…0500 every day for the next two months outta do it.”

Your eyes widen in horror, mouth dropping open all over again in protest. You barely keep yourself from grasping your chest in shock.

These military guys, did they never learn how to fucking sleep in!? That’s so damn early!

His sneering smirk returns to his face at your reaction, “Come on, Peach! Where’s your sense of adventure? You’ll tell me everything I need to know about the tree-fuckers, and I’ll teach you how to take a fist to the face, that sound good? About two hours each, four hours in total every single god-damn day. Good? Good.”

You sputter, hardly believing your ears. “Four hours every day? Don’t you have better things to do!?”

“Nope. My entire purpose for existing is to capture the traitor Jake Sully and end this war once and for all. With your help, I might actually be able to do that, which means that your time is now my time. Got it?”

You nod, queasy. It seems like all of your bravado from earlier had fled, leaving you with only the shakes and a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl, Peach. Knew you had it in ya’!”

He claps your shoulder, and even through your shirt you can feel the warmth leaching off his hand and into your own skin.

The grin he wears makes you shiver, and you suddenly feel like prey that had just been caught by a predator, sharp teeth sinking into your neck and bleeding you dry.

He leads you to the door of his bedroom and practically tosses you out, done with you now that he had gotten what he wanted. He barely gives himself a chance to say, “See you bright an’ early tomorrow morning, Peach!” before he is slamming the door in your gawking face.

You stood outside his door for a few moments, simply processing. Eventually, you’re able to make your feet unstick from the floor and you wander back to the break room in a daze, mind clouded.

I can’t fucking believe that just happened. This is going to change my entire schedule for the next few months! Jesus Christ.

You practically stumble through the hallways toward your destination. Once you reach the door to the break room, you lean your arm against it and press your forehead into your arm. Your eyes close, and your heart jackhammers in your chest.

I don’t there’s anyone in my entire life who has ever made me as nervous as that guy. Holy shit.

You take deep breaths, trying to relax your muscles and get some air into your lungs. It takes a few moments, but eventually you’re able to get your heart rate down to a steady pump.

You lick your lips, suddenly parched.

When you lean up from your perch against the door and open your eyes, you can see the faint form of your face shining up from the metal of the door. Your pupils are blown, eyes still wide, and your cheeks are red.

He is seriously the scariest motherfucker I’ve ever met. And now I’m going to have to teach him things! I don’t know how I’m going to do it without passing out a few times, ohmygod. This is going to be miserable.

You swallow as best you can with a dry throat and shakily reach up to fix your messy hair, smoothing down flyaways. You straighten your shirt, crack your neck, and plaster a calm smile onto your face.

There’s no reason to let them know how terrified I am.

You open the door to the break room and step inside, ready to answer any questions they must surely have, and…

The room is empty.

You deflate, hand rubbing down your face and feeling embarrassed.

Of course they wouldn’t wait, we have a linking session in thirty minutes…that I am now late for. Fantastic.

------

You spend the rest of the day completely distracted, too worried about what might happen the next morning. It even took longer than usual for you to link into your Avatar, and when you were finally able to get outside, you had to answer to the swarm of nosy scientists you called your friends.

They were just concerned, you knew, but you didn’t like having to relive the entire stressful event down to the last detail. Still, you gave in and spilled, telling them about Quaritch’s ‘proposition’ (ha!) and leaving out the part where he had taken you to his bedroom.  

They had all given you looks that ranged from horrified -Emma-, sympathetic -Margot and James-, and utterly uncaring -David-.

You start drinking from your water bottle franticly after you tell them everything, feeling anxious all over again.

“Well, maybe this won’t be such a bad thing,” Margot says, expression turning contemplative. All members of your group are sitting outside around a creaky wooden table in your Avatar forms, enjoying the fresh, sweet air and the bright light of Pandora as the rays warm your cyan skin. When you tilt your head back to let it shine on your face, it almost feels like home had been before the pollution clouded the sky.

Your hearing in this form is incredibly sensitive, and it hurts to hear the loud, never-ending beeping and rumbling of production taking place. It had taken you weeks to spend much time outside, and even then, you still sometimes have to put your hands over your big pointy ears when the sounds become too overwhelming.

Margot curls her large fingers underneath her chin and props her head up in her hand, “I mean, you’ll learn to protect yourself, so there’s that. Also, um…” She looks at the rest of the group mischievously, and they all get questioning looks on their faces.

She clears her throat and leans in closer to you. She puts a hand in front of her mouth, blocking it from the others, and whispers into your ear,

“I really, really wouldn’t mind getting to see how big his dick actually is and maybe you’ll get a chance.”

You choke on the water pouring into your mouth, spraying it all over the table you are sitting at. The liquid gets caught in your throat, causing you to cough painfully.

“Oh my god, Margot!” you screech, still coughing into your elbow and voice coming out scratchy. Your watery eyes glare at her over your arm.

Margot shrugs, “What, I was just saying what we were all thinking. He’s the biggest guy here, which has gotta mean something, right?” She wiggles her eyebrows and grins salaciously, and you bury your face into your arm.

“If he ever heard you saying anything like that, he would put his knife straight through your face without even hesitating!”

“I’ll let him put something else in my face if he wants.”

“Margot!”

It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed that Colonel Miles Quaritch was a beautiful man. It would be impossible, really. Despite the sneer he always seemed to have on his face, the deep cyan of his skin, his wide, golden eyes, and his tall, broad frame were enough to make anybody swoon.

And his feline features weren’t the only thing that made him attractive. You could see his beauty in his long-fingered and broad hands, in his high cheekbones, in the curve of his lips even when they were curled up in disdain. 

It wouldn’t surprise you to learn that a lot of people thought he was attractive just because of his attitude, either. Back home it seemed that everyone was interested in the cocky, proud, manly posturing that Quaritch seemed to like to do.

But despite how pretty he may be, he was also absolutely, shit-your-pants terrifying, and an asshole, which was enough for you to keep it in your pants. That, and the fact that he hated your guts.

“Trust me, Margot, I’ll be too busy trying not to piss him off again to see how big anything is.”

Great, now I’m thinking about his dick.

Margot rolls her eyes but leans back in her seat and drops the subject, “Your loss, then.”

James strikes up a new topic, just as embarrassed as you, and you slouch gratefully back into your seat, glad that the interrogation is over.

It’s nearing darkness by the time you all finish your linking sessions, and the group shuffles their way back into the sleeping center for the Avatars. You move over to your assigned bed, crawling under the soft sheets and sighing deeply.

You lightly traced your right-hand index finger over the smooth skin of your left arm, causing goosebumps to rise. It was still so strange, being able to actually feel with a body that was yours but not, having so many new features that you still have to adjust to even weeks later. Having a whole-ass tail, being several feet taller than any human alive, having super strength, hell, even being blue was still just totally fucking weird.

You lay back into the cot and attempt to clear your mind from any thoughts, but it was just as hard as it had been when you had linked earlier. After a few minutes, you are finally able to silence your mind and drift off just enough for the link to become secure and for you to wake up in the gel link bed, back in your human body.

By the time you walk to your room, you are bone-wary, almost stumbling on your feet. You dread the coming morning, and the only thing you want to do now is turn off your brain and rest. Your shoulders hurt from the stress of the day, and when you finally unlock your bedroom door, take off your clothes, shower, and brush your teeth, you’re practically hunched over.

You shuffle under the covers once again, and you’re unconscious before your head can fully settle onto the pillow. 

------

Your eyes pop open, arms and legs flailing wildly in your sheets as you struggle to reach over to your alarm clock to silence its screaming. When you finally smack it, the crack of your hand connecting with its durable metal makes your palm sting angrily.

You let out a hoarse groan, cradling your hand to your chest as you flop down onto your bed. It had barely felt like you had gotten a wink of sleep last night, too busy thinking about your approaching morning with Quaritch. Scenarios ranging from you accidentally stabbing him to him purposefully stabbing you ran through your head, keeping you awake after only a few hours of rest.

Eventually, you stop your moping and reluctantly pull yourself out of your bed, eyes blearily glaring around your room.

It’s still a gray and sad little space, your room, but you had placed the small number of personal items you brought with you to Pandora throughout it. The one picture you had of your parents sits framed on your desk, along with your holotablet.  

The few items of clothing and the two pairs of shoes you owned were put up in your closet haphazardly, and your hygienic amenities were scattered across the small bathroom connected to your room.

Your room and areas beyond it are all so generic and boring, which is why you spend most of your time either with your group or outside in your Avatar, being able to run around and feel. And once you were finally able to leave Bridgehead, your life would start, and it wouldn’t matter what your room looked like.

You tiredly get dressed and brush your teeth and your wild hair, putting it up into a simple ponytail to keep it out of your face. Once you’re suitable, you head out and lock the door behind you, placing the key in the right pocket of your jeans.

The hallways are quiet for once, and even the incessant roaring of construction has stopped. You walk down the softly lit hallways to the mess hall, unreasonably jealous of the people who get to sleep in their beds.

Most of the lights are off when you walk in, but to your surprise, there are a few people sitting down at a table already eating their breakfast.

Guess my assumption about the military was right, they really don’t know how to sleep in.

To your delight, there is a light amount of muffins and bagels laid out on a table nearby, but the most important thing was the coffee pot next to them.

Looks like the shipment finally came in. Margot is going to piss her pants.

You gladly snag two muffins with napkins and two small cups of coffee, heading right back out the door to the hallway with a friendly smile to the person walking in. They look blankly back at you, but you don’t mind as you stuff a chocolate chip muffin into your mouth as you walk.

You shuffle the remaining muffin and cups into your left hand and elbow crook, grasping the cold metal handle of the glass door that leads into the center with your right hand. You can see a head of black curls poke out from the side of a monitor, followed quickly by a scowl and a pair of eyes glaring blearily at you as you walk in.

You wince. “Morning, Tom. Thanks again for doing this, I really appreciate it.”

Tom had been the unlucky soul you had asked to help link you into your Avatar every morning for the foreseeable future. He had balked when you had asked, saying “Hell no!” before the words were fully out of your mouth. You had leveled him with your best begging look and offered to pay for six of the ridiculously expensive books you know he liked to read coming in on the next supply shipment.

He grouchily agreed to the deal but demanded you bring him breakfast every morning. You had accepted with a pleased smile.

Tom rolls his eyes and snatches the cup of coffee from your hand when you offer it. You’re about to warn him about how hot it was when he gulps half of it down. You watch, halfway impressed and halfway feeling the pain for him in your own throat.

“Let’s get started, then.” His voice is even more crackly than yours is this early.

You nod hurriedly and take one last sip of your coffee before you reluctantly set it down on the table. You walk over to the link bed and crawl in, and Tom pulls the cover down over you. You settle in, closing your eyes to clear your mind.

------

“There ya’ are, Peach! I was startin’ to think you’d chickened out on me.” Quaritch’s loud voice startles you out of your sleepy trance, and your head snaps up from where it is laying against the metal table you are sitting at.

The asshole looks as awake and lucid as usual, not a hint of tiredness on his face. He grins nastily when he sees your sleepy expression.

“We didn’t agree on a place to meet up, sir.” You are barely able to cover your yawn with a hand, and you stand with a grimace.

“That is true. From now on, we’ll do our lessons in Courtyard Six. Try to keep up.”

He turns and walks away, clearly expecting you to follow. You hurry to catch up with his long stride, but it’s much easier to do in this form. He’s almost ten feet tall, but your Avatar is eight and a half feet tall, and you are able to lengthen your stride to match his pace. Your shoulder width and muscles are still much smaller than his, but you imagined most were.

As you step in close to him, your nose twitches, and you realize something that almost makes you trip.

Quaritch smells really, really good.

You lean in closer to him and inhale discreetly, deeper than before, and, yep, that scent is definitely coming from him.

It is such a rich scent, a strange combination of rainwater, black coffee, and something smoky, like a campfire.  

The smell is so strong that it feels like a physical mist floating its way through your nose and ears and into your head. Your mind goes fuzzy, as if suddenly stuffed with cotton. Your lips and fingertips tingle. And to your absolute horror, you can actually feel your mouth start to water.

It’s just such a lovely scent.

Do you think he’d be okay with it if I pressed my nose into his neck to smell him better-No!

You try to break out of the mist, shaking your head to get rid of the images of licking up his neck, tasting his skin, the way his head would tilt back and you would be able to feel his rumbling groan spread through his chest pressed up against your own and-

Stop it! Jesus Christ, don’t even think about it!

This is just a completely normal physical reaction, right? Maybe, but it wasn’t like this with the other guys!

In front of you, Quaritch’s footsteps stutter to a stop for a split second before resuming. It’s barely a pause, but it’s enough to make you snap out of your thoughts and look up at him. When you do, you notice the slight twitching of his own feline-like nose.

Is he smelling the same thing?

He turns his head around slightly to look at you, and you make eye contact with him just enough to notice his pupils are blown out, consuming most of his iris.

My eyes are probably no better, you think, before ducking your head to watch your feet as you walk.

Quaritch stares at you for a moment and then turns his attention back toward the path, and you do the same. You discreetly rub at your sensitive nose, trying to get his fantastic scent out of your head. A few moments after you do, Quaritch rubs at his own nose.

It doesn’t work, but by the time you reach the courtyard you’ve already gotten a little used to it. Thankfully you don’t feel as lightheaded anymore, but you have no idea if it is going to come back.

You notice that the sky has begun to lighten up as Quaritch unlocks the chain-link gate leading into the yard. Not that you really need any light, what with being able to see in the dark and all.

 He stops once you enter and closes the gate behind you, and you can immediately tell why he had chosen this courtyard out of all the others. It was hidden behind a big wall of concrete that had no windows, so nobody could see you from inside the building, and it was positioned all the way in the back of the court section, meaning it was far more remote and private than the others.

Probably doesn’t want his tough guy image to be hurt when people saw him learning about the Na’vi and chatting with a little scientist, the prick.

The enclosure is a simple little area with a small basketball court, a tetherball pole, and a metal table. Nothing special, but it would be perfect for your lessons. 

He turns around to meet your eyes, and you still have to tilt your head back to return his yellow gaze. The bioluminescent markings on his face glow brightly.  

“You wanna go first, Peach?”

You swallow nervously but nod, “I’ll go first. I thought a lot about what our first lesson was going to be last night.”

You drop down onto the soft faux grass that covered the courtyard, legs crisscross applesauce in front of you as you avoid sitting on your flicking tail. You look up at him expectantly when he continues to stand.

Quaritch looks at the table sitting just a few feet away and shrugs. He plops down onto the grass hesitantly and crosses his legs in front of him the same as you. Now that he’s actually here, all the plans you made completely leave your brain, and you mind turns blank as you struggle to come up with something to say. You both sit there in silence for a few moments before he says,

“So are you actually going to say anything in this lesson or what? Usually I can’t get you quacks to shut the fuck up-”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just trying to figure out where to start. Um…” Your brain flashes to what Quaritch had said when he started this whole thing, wanting to learn more about the way the Na’vi think, what’s important to them, how they work.

“Okay. Well, I guess the first place to start would be at the very beginning. Millions of years ago, when-”

Quaritch interrupts you with a loud groan, throwing his head back in exasperation, “I’m not askin’ for a history lesson here, Peach. Just tell me about them now, how they operate now, in this time, not millions of years ago! Jesus Christ, you pretentious assholes always have to drag things out-”

“Okay, alright, I’m sorry! Um, so the most important thing to know about the Na’vi is their connection to nature, their connection to Eywa. You’ve heard about Her, right?”

You continue to speak when Quaritch nods. “Right, well, She protects the balance of life here on Pandora, and the Na’vi love Eywa, the Great Mother. All things on Pandora are connected to each other through Eywa; you, me, plants, animals, you name it. Life and the forest are sacred to them because it bonds them to Eywa. They can actually speak to Her, and there are places like the Tree of Souls and the Tree of Voices that are sacred to them. They connect all the Na’vi to Eywa and to their ancestors, and they can actually hear the voices of past living people, isn’t that amazing? Are you with me so far?”

Quaritch nods again, surprisingly quiet. In fact, it’s probably the longest you’ve ever seen him be silent. His face is carefully blank, eyebrows furrowed with some unnamed emotion as he listens to you speak.

And that’s how the next two hours go, you talking and Quaritch listening with rapt attention. You had no idea if what you were talking about was anything Quaritch wanted to hear, but he didn’t interrupt you other than to ask a rare question.  

About an hour in you stood up and stretched, bones popping and limbs aching from sitting on the ground for so long. Your ass was practically numb, and your left leg was stinging with pins and needles. You put your hands on your hips and looked down at Quaritch, who remained sitting on the grass.

For the first time ever, you were actually the one towering over him, and the thought made you grin as he looked up at you.

It seemed he could tell what you were thinking, because he scowled and pulled himself up on his feet, looming over you once more. He stretched his long arms above his head to get the blood flowing back in, groaning just like you had a moment ago.

You paused your own movement, gaze lingering on the way his strong muscles shifted underneath his pretty blue skin. They bunched up as his arms flexed, and your mouth turned dry.

Your eyes flickered over them for a few moments and then shifted to his face. Your stomach swooped low as you realized he had caught you looking, and you stared at him in mortification as his sneering, arrogant smile returned full force to his face. He looked so smug.

You had no idea your Avatar could even blush from embarrassment, but your cheeks burned all the same. You hurriedly turned your gaze away from him entirely, eyes squeezed shut.

He let out a low, unpleasant chuckle, clearly taking immense pleasure in your misery.

Asshole!

You stood for a few more minutes, back facing him as you pretended to examine the sky with incredible interest, waiting for your blush to fade and your stomach to settle. Eventually, you both sat on the grass once again, and you resumed your speech.

You talked about all things Na’vi related, from their connection to Eywa to what they wore, what they ate, their ceremonies, anything that popped into your head that you felt was important to mention.

In the grand scheme of things, you weren’t able to cover very much ground before your two hours were up and your lesson ended for the day.

By this time, Pandora’s light has returned from the eclipse, shining down brightly on both of you.

“So, how did I do?” you dare ask Quaritch.

“Well. Now I know what a Na’vi eats for breakfast, so. That’s something.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands, “I’m sorry, you said you wanted to know what they ate and everything! I promise we’ll eventually get into the more interesting and important things.”

Please don’t put me on toilet duty. I can do this!

Quaritch sighs, but says, “Don’t worry, Peach. We’ll get to the juicier parts someday. Learning to be one’s enemy is a long process, after all.”

He smacks his thighs, and the sound makes you jump, face moving away from your hands. Your nerves reignite in your stomach all over again as you realize it is now time for your lesson.

Why did I ever ask him to do this!? I should never have said anything, now I’m going to be Quaritch’s punching bag for the next few months! Idiot!

A sharp-toothed grin stretches over Quaritch’s face, and he leans in until he’s right in front of you, face close to yours. His yellow eyes bore into yours, and you can see your own terrified expression reflecting right back at you.

“Time for me to teach you, Peach.”

------

 “Alright, Peach. You know how to handle a knife?”

You think about it and shake your head.

“…Okay. Do you know how to throw a punch?”

Again, you shake your head.

Quaritch curses and takes a step back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing the middle finger of his right hand between them as if praying for patience.

Both of you are standing in the middle of the small basket court, facing one another. You refuse to feel embarrassed by Quaritch’s reaction to your fighting skills, or lack thereof.

Not everyone can be a terrifying killing machine, asshole!

Quaritch seems to get the patience he was asking for, straightening up with a sigh.

“Back to the basics, then. Jesus.”

He steps up to you and places his warm, large hands on the bare skin of your shoulders. He shuffles you over closer to him, and you go willingly, body tense.

“First step in learning to defend yourself is to not be a pussy.”

Wow. Wonderful advice.

“You need to be firm in your stance and your attack, else your opponent will just be able to knock you off your feet before you can even land a hit. And if your limbs are loose, you’ll lose your balance and go flying just from your own force. Keep your core tight.”

He places a large hand firmly against the bare skin of your stomach and you suck in a surprised breath. His touch tingles through you in a way you’ve never felt before, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. He walks around toward your back, and you can see the veins in his arm shift when his hand flexes by his side.

“When you throw a punch, you need to keep your wrist straight and fully extend your arm each time. Make sure you step like this,” he demonstrates, “and pull your arm like this.”

“Keep your thumb behind your index and middle fingers but out of your fist, don’t stick your pinky out, and you want to hit your opponent with these knuckles right here. Got it?”

You nod slowly, making a fist following his instructions with your right hand. He nods once and then moves in front of you. He lifts his hands in the air, palms facing outward.

“Hit me.”

Already? But I barely even- alright, you know what, I don’t even care anymore.

You shake out your arms self-consciously and try to position your body in the way he had shown you. You pull your arms up, hands folding into fists, stance widening, and you lash your arm out at him with all the strength you can muster.

Your right fist smacks against his open palm with a satisfying thwack, and you grin, tossing your arms above your head at your success.

“Your form was good, Peach, but your fist felt like getting hit with a bug. You need to work on your strength, build up your muscles and your core. Try again.”

You nod, arm flying out and hitting his palm once more.

“No, you need to keep your arm tucked in, not flying out like an idiot bird with a broken wing. Again.”

You hit his hands over and over for the next half an hour as he corrects your form and stance. As he said, you need to build your strength up in this new body, but this was a good start. He has to get in pretty close once again to show you how to move your body, but other than he seems to keep his distance.

You know, this isn’t so bad!

You hit him again a few more times before he nods, satisfied, and drops his arms.

“Now you know how to hit somebody hard, Peach. Always go for sensitive places, like the nose, groin, ears, eyes, kidney, wherever you can reach. Got it?”

You lower your own arms, panting. Reaching out to punch him hadn’t taken much movement from your arms, but doing it over and over again for half an hour made them ache terribly. You struggle to catch your breath.

It had been embarrassing, admittedly, the first few times. You had felt shy and scared all at once, unsure of yourself and uneager to be anywhere near Quaritch, let alone close enough to touch him.

Then you’d lost most of the fear the second time he had lightly smacked your cheek when he got through your defensively positioned arms. They were pretty much love taps, practically pats, but it had lit an angry fire in your stomach. Your uneasiness turned to determination to land at least one hit on him, and you forgot all about your trepidation and that this was Quaritch you were tussling with.

From the way he had grinned and curled his fingers in a ‘come-hither’ gesture, that was probably what he had been trying to do.

He also probably just liked hitting you, the dickbag.

Quaritch nods, and you fully expect him to end the lesson early for the day. What you weren’t expecting was for him to reach down and pull a massive knife from its sheath on his right thigh, bringing it up toward the light for examination.

You lean back quickly, ears flicking to the sides of your head in alarm. You had thought your punching lesson had seemed tame for him! It really wouldn’t surprise you if he decided you needed a lesson on keeping your guard up and lunged at you.  

He won’t stab me, he won’t stab me, he won’t stab me, he won’t stab me-

“This here’s a bowie knife, seventeen inches of serrated steel strong enough to cut through bone.”

He waves it around carefully, smirking at your wide-eyed look of terror.

“And this…” he leans down to put the knife back in its sheath before pulling out something else from a different pocket on his right leg, “This is your knife.”

The little knife is comically small in his giant hand, more of a switchblade than anything else.

“That’ll be the knife you use for the next week at least, so don’t lose it.”

You pluck it from his hand gingerly, fingers folding around the base as you bring it up to your eyes for closer inspection. It looks bigger in your hand than it did in his, and you can see his initials, M.Q, engraved on its tiny metal handle.

Why the hell would a guy as big as Quaritch even need a knife this small? Does he use it as a toothpick?

Nonetheless, you’re glad he didn’t give you anything bigger to use for your first time. You weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it without stabbing yourself.

He shows you how to hold it, how to slash and stab, the proper way to stand and lunge with the little blade.

After another half an hour, he nods.

“Alright, now I want you to try me.” He says, pulling his arms up close to his chest and goading you on once again with a ‘come at me’ curled hand gesture, cocky smirk in place.

You balk. “You want me to charge at you with a knife already? We just got started!”

“Yep, sure did. What, you think you could actually touch me, let alone hurt me with that little thing? Ha!”

You wince. That’s a good point.

You do what he taught you to, adjusting your grip on the blade and positioning your body and feet into the dirt, tightening your core. You take a deep breath, strengthen your muscles, and then leap with a cry.

Quaritch shifts out of the way of your knife quicker than you had yet to see him move, simply stepping to the side with an unsurprised expression.

You go sailing past him, war cry turning panicked. You drop the knife and jerk up your arms to cover your face, turning away and squeezing your eyes shut.

Just as you start tilting toward the dirt, a hand grips the back of the collar of your shirt and pulls you upright before you can even realize you aren’t falling anymore. You remained positioned for impact, hands still in front of your face to cushion your fall even as you stand on your own two feet.

You open your eyes and blink, hands patting down your front as if to make sure no injury had been done to your person.

Quaritch lets go of your collar, knuckles brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“That was fuckin’ pathetic! It was like a wet paper bag was throwin’ itself my way. And where the hell did you learn to cry out like that, ‘cause it was fuckin’ embarrassin’.”

You pay no attention to his harsh words, still stunned you hadn’t face-planted into the dirt for once.

You look up at him, starry-eyed.

“That was amazing, Quaritch! You moved so fast I could barely see you! Have you always been that quick or is it new? Could you teach me how to dodge like that?”

He stares down at you, ears flicking back against the sides of his head. An odd expression crosses his face, almost as though he was taken aback by your wonder.

He clears his throat awkwardly, turning to the side to avoid your strong eye contact.

“That doesn’t matter, not with that pathetic performance. You need ta’ be firm, like I said, and not throwin’ your weight ‘round like a pussy. Come on, do it again.”

You reach down into the dirt to pick up your little knife, and you lunge at him again. He dodges all the same, but you surprise the both of you when you don’t stop, turning around and slashing in his direction.

Of course, the blade doesn’t even touch him, but it’s the thought that counts.

He grins at you, “There you go, Peach! Way to show some initiative, I’ll make a fine soldier out of you yet. Let’s go again, come on.”

And that’s how you end your morning, trying to stab Colonel Miles Quaritch with a knife the size of one of his fingers. You’d have never thought this was where you would be when you met him all those weeks ago, but hey, if learning from him would one day save your life, you’d do it gladly.

By the time two hours have passed, you’re sweating and panting for breath, hands on your knees. Your body was still new, and you hadn’t been in it long enough for you to get past light jogging and reflex training. Honestly, the fact that you were able to do all that moving without collapsing was a god-damn miracle.

You were so much faster in this form, so much more flexible and stronger. Still, that held no comparison to the trained, experienced combat vet you were practically playing with. Because that’s what this would be called, not fighting or even training. It was like playing tag or a slapping game, cause that’s all that happened for the entire lesson.

Quaritch, the fucker, doesn’t have a drop of sweat on him. His chest rose and fell evenly, and he rested one of his hands on the gun holster he had wrapped around his hips.

“You good, Peach? Not going to puke, are ‘ya?” You’d be flattered by his concern for your well-being if it weren’t for the mean, amused tone layering his voice when he spoke.

You stay bent over for a few more moments as you struggle to catch your breath. Eventually, you’re able to rise fully upright. You answer his question, even though you know it was rhetorical,  

“I-I’m good, I think.”

Just as you finish your sentence, your stomach growls angrily, as though enraged at being denied sustenance.

Ugh.

If you weren’t exhausted and beyond caring about what Quaritch thought of you, with your floppy, sweaty form and shitty punches, you would have been embarrassed. Now, though, the only thing you do is pout. Now, you were just a little pissed and tired at getting your ass thoroughly kicked for two hours.

“I’m hungry, can we be finished for the day?”

Quaritch rolls his eyes, unimpressed, but relents.

“Yeah, Peach, we’re done. Let’s get goin’.”

You grin, relieved, and your energy returns just slightly at the thought of lunch. You bound to his side, and he leads the way out of the courtyard and into the space beyond.

The day is in full swing, scientists, soldiers, robots, and trucks all bustling around Bridgehead as you follow Quaritch close on his heels to the mess hall.

You pass by all the tiny little humans, most of whom don’t even spare either of you a glance. Either because they were used to seeing ten-foot-tall Avatars walking around or because they were too busy to give a shit. Probably both, really.

You both have to duck as you walk through the doorway, Quaritch much more than you. You walk over to the table where you had snagged the muffins for breakfast earlier that morning, grabbing three of the sandwiches that were there now instead.

Quaritch grabs six of them, piling them all onto his plate.

You’ve just started scarfing yours down when a large hand whips out across your back, slamming into you. You inhale instinctively and start choking on your food, struggling to breathe. You turn around, fully ready to smash your sandwiches into the face of whichever fucker did that when you see Quaritch’s walking away, waving the spare hand not holding his food up behind him.

“See you ‘round, Peach.”

Oh. Well, at least he said goodbye.

You drink from the water bottle you’d snagged from the mass hall and eat your sandwiches as you walk to the showering station for Avatars. You stay under the pounding warm water longer than you probably should, enjoying the way it soothes the ache in your tense arms and shoulders.

After you’re done washing away the sweat and grime, you head back to the Avatar resting area, ready to be in your own body.

It had taken you a while to learn how to hold onto the brain link connecting your bodies; the first few weeks were the worst when you were learning to hold it longer and longer. Sometimes it would break, and you would slam back into your human body with a gasp, disoriented and head pounding.

Now, though, you were much better at holding onto the link for longer periods, even if it still gave you a headache.

You settle back into the pillows, closing your eyes and letting your mind go blank.

------

When you wake up in your human body, it always feels stuffy, not right, like you’re being squeezed into a tube. Your mouth is always cottony, too, and even though your body was simply laying down like you were asleep, your bones always ache when you get up as if you’ve been doing jumping jacks for however long you were in there.

You step out of the link bed, stretching your arms above your head and groaning. Tom is no longer in the linking center, but you didn’t expect him to be when there were others milling about who could watch over you.

You stand up and wobble a little bit, dizzy. Once it passes and you’re sure you can walk without smacking into anything, you make your way back toward your room, fully intent on sleeping for the rest of the afternoon before the conference in the evening.

Just as you leave the linking center, Margot runs into you, hair wild and eyes a little bit crazy. She grabs onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth lightly. You let her do whatever she wants, beyond caring.

“How did it go? Did he yell at you, did he flirt any? Ooh, did he smack your ass-? Hey!”

You shake her hands off, walking past her with a roll of your eyes.

“Jesus Christ Margot, you really need to get laid.”

She groans, following after you with quick steps, waving her arms around as she says, “I know! There’s just no one I’ve seen that I’m interested in, so I have to live through you and your sexy romance with Colonel Quaritch-”

You halt, turning around to grab her shoulders. You’re the one shaking her back and forth this time.

“Listen, Margot, there is nothing going on with Quaritch and me at all, nothing sexy, nothing flirty! We literally just met like two days ago, and he’s hated me ever since! Now stop saying stuff like that, or he’s going to overhear us, again, and kill us both. Okay? Okay.”

Margot whines, “Oh, but maybe there could be! If you were just a little less uptight and he was a little less homicidal, you guys could totally get together. I mean, you can’t deny that he might be interested, right? I totally saw the way he was looking at you yesterday!”

“Yeah, he was looking at me like he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat.”

“Kinky.”

“No, Margot, not kinky! More like murderous! You’re starting to sound crazy, Margot, you’ve gotta do something before you start humping anything that moves.”

Margot blushes, finally feeling some sort of shame, and she nods, “Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just so pent-up, honey. Ugh! Okay, I’m going to try to relax somewhere, get outta my head for a little bit. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

You pat her shoulder and say, “See you then, Margot.”

She gives you one last smile before she’s off, bounding down the hallway. You shake your head in fond exasperation, now even more tired than before, and walk back to your room. You adored Margot, loved her, but sometimes her exuberance made your head pound.

You unlock your door, kick off your shoes, and toss yourself onto the unmade sheets of your bed. One last thought floats through your mind just before you drift off to sleep.  

Maybe mornings with Quaritch won’t be as bad as I thought.

peachy keen. Part Two

[potions-of-dark-devotion]

Gotta Get This off my Chest

Severus Snape & HBO Series

Alright first off, I know you are generally expecting well thought out essays from me but here I’m going to Ramble Freeform. You’ve been warned.

I don’t know how I feel at all about another actor attempting to play Severus Snape. JK Rowling is the main producer and honestly this worries me a lot considering the amount of hatred she has for LGBTQ people and the amount of hatred Severus has gotten in the last years. This space is bad sometimes but generally we have a fantastic community of people in this snapedom who love the character as he is written positives and negatives. I for one liked Snape from the first book I read and the first movie I watched.

I’ll be the first to admit that my image of him is very much wrapped up in Alan Rickman, and tho I greatly respect other peoples images of snape and I love the fan art they make, the thing that made Alan such an amazing character actor for the part was the unabashed love he had for the character. Look at any interview of him about Severus and you will see that he went to bat for him at every turn. What if we we are given someone who sees Snape through the eyes of the marauders fandom? What if they erase all of Snapes goodness or heaven forbid write extra scenes of cruelty to Lily that didn’t exist, or have him creep over her, or physically attack her, or characterize him as the aggressor with James when we all know it was the other way around? These kinds of fears keep me from being excited about the new series and instead leave me anxious.

For one thing, I wish they had focused more on a different period of wizard history, or a different part of the 1st wizarding war or even marauders/young Severus era, because there is so much to explore. I would have liked to explore story lines that really could use more fleshing out, and if JK Rowling is going to be a part of this she could have easily written new passages or short stories to suit this new narrative. I also worry about the fact that yet again because she is a producer there will certainly be no LGBTQ characters in the narrative and that’s a waste to me. We already have a fantastic interpretation of the books, and if they are doing a redo why not cast people of color or trans or any LGBT characters in the mix? It will be the same story just perhaps fleshed out more? I’m not sure what this series will bring to the table that the movies did not unless they radically change some things.

Yet, with this interpretation we may see many thing in the series that we don’t see in the books. Severus has two big scenes at the end of POA and GOF that were totally left out of the movies, and if this was left in and the “prank” was explored more in depth we could get to see an even more complex narrative than Alan was allowed to portray in the movies (largely due to directorial choices).

Severus as we all know is a complex character that can be different or difficult to understand without a trauma informed lense and the last thing I want is for them to shove him into a gross stereotype, or give him attributes that don’t exist in the books in order to cater to certain fandoms. I’m genuinely worried about the prospect of this. I also don’t want our fandom safe spaces that we’ve spent years curating to be over run with Snape hate again just because of the series. I could be being pessimistic. It’s just been on my mind lately.

No hard feelings it’s just…Severus Snape is my comfort character and I don’t want the idea of it ruined by people who don’t really understand him or who wouldn’t bat for him the way Alan did. Please understand me. Does anyone else have mixed feelings this way?

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Hi! I have been obsessed with your Jason fics for a couple of days. They are just so sweet and incredible. I simply love them and I think that thanks to you I have a new comfort character 😊

I kind of had a little 🤏 anxiety attack in a situation similar to the one I am going to request yesterday. But, somehow imagining Jason recomforting me and thinking about your stories helped me to ease my mind for a while. So thank you so much 🫶🏼

If you have time and like the idea, could you make a fic in which Jason and fem!reader at a Gala in the Wayne Manor and the reader kinds of stress out because people keep asking her questions and looking at her (maybe because that it's their first event as an official couple 🤔) and Jason helps her and assures her that everything will be fine

Hope you have a good day!

Aww I’m sorry to hear that. I get those a lot with my job. Sorry it’s so short, but I hope this helps!

—

“I’ll say it as much as I have to,” Jason’s voice rumbles comfort in your ear, his hand settling snug along your back.

“You look stunning, babe. Don’t worry.”

His words became a temporary balm to your rising concerns, causing a nearly endless bubbling in your tummy.

You weren’t like this when you arrived, fiddling with the skirt of your dress in the back of the limousine. It began when you caught various flashes of photographers along the manor gates, attempting to catch evidence of tonight’s Gala attendees.

Of course, Jason’s commentary from how you’ve done your makeup, to this gorgeous… gorgeous silk dress you picked out for the event, was ever such an ego boost.

A rich, merlot color, complimenting the collar of his button up under his tux jacket. All of Gotham knew just how extravagant Bruce Wayne’s galas were, ranging from charity events to holiday celebrations.

Part of you was excited to attend, despite it being out of your comfort zone. Lots of important people, plenty of snobs looking to get on Wayne’s good side. You imagined that one scene from The Devil Wears Prada; the main character himself strolling along with an aura of charming confidence as he greeted his guests, while his sons lounge around the stairs in absolute boredom, adorned in their secretly signature colors.

Jason usually avoided these events, but just for tonight, he wouldn’t mind attending as long as had his lovely girl by his side.

The dress made you look like complete eye candy. He wasn’t afraid to say that. His girl deserved to look her best, as long as people knew who you arrived and were leaving with at the end of the night.

“What if they ask a bunch of personal stuff?”

“Tell ‘em a bunch of personal lies,” Jason shrugs. “S’what I do all the time.”

Lying seems the most reasonable. Rich, important people do it all the time. What’re they gonna do, fact check you on the spot?

“Ah ah,” he holds up a finger the second he sees your lips open, shaking his head after another sip of champagne. “Look, if they were that desperate to look for truth here, then what’s the point of secret identities?”

After nearly an hour of gentle symphonies accompanying a handful of introductions at a time, your polite smile grew a little more strained. Shaking hands of many faces you didn’t care about, politely nodding your head towards patrons you accidentally made eye contact with and so on, had you clutching Jason’s forearm just a little tighter.

He remained by your side, offering you some soda water or champagne to settle your nerves after finding you both a semi-quiet retreat in a slightly vacant corner.

You weren’t sure why your mind began focusing on the outer talk of guests around you, but you begin to hate yourself for it.

Questions varying from who you were, hushed mutters of if you were simply bribed by lavish gifts to attend. Was another son of Bruce Wayne following in his playboy footsteps, going from girl to girl?

Such comments even went as far as to compliment your hair and makeup. You even heard a woman say this shade of red didn’t suit your skin tone. What does that even mean??

Soon enough, the music grew as loud as the chatter, making your chest swell and burn with irritation for the mental overstimulation.

Jason takes a fresh drink from a tray before leading you out from the stuffy crowds, striving into the courtyard patio. A warm, natural floral breeze helps wipe your senses clean after breathing in a cloying concoction of expensive fragrances all in one room.

A few well dressed patrons were scattered about, smoking cigarettes neatly tucked in slick metal cases. Jason didn’t stop there, leading you down a short set of curved stairs leading into the gardens.

“Breathe, babe. I gotcha.” He holds your hand at first before reaching for his jacket buttons. “All this liquor didn’t get to your head, did it?”

His teasing nearly fell on deaf ears as he draped his coat over your bare shoulders, making his smile slowly fade from your silence.

“You sure you don’t just wanna dip? We can stop at a diner and tell the waiters Batman crashed our expensive, high school prom.”

“Bruce won’t get mad?” You question after a short smile, watching Jason’s lips purse with a firm head shake.

“I mean, we showed up,” Jason clarifies while balancing his empty glass along a nearby stone bench. “No one’s really telling us to stay here.”

A faint air of defeat floods your shoulders, even when your favorite person offered the solution to your anxieties. You thought you’d be more confident, holding the aura of poise and elegance so many women held at these events.

Overall, it was too much. The music, the people, the cologne.

Somehow, a late night diner sounded a whole lot better the more you thought about it. Bustling bells ringing for hot plates, palate cleansing coffee flooding your nose, greasy bacon, and orange juice lacking any expensive champagne.

“Keep that pretty head high, princess.” Jason gently gives the bottom of your chin a gentle nudge with his thumb, gifting you a handsome smile.

“You showed up, that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you.”

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Is me again with Wick D'Antonio ask HELLOO :D

I remembered how you asked me about Santino's and John's wedding, like how it would look like and all that, SOOO :)

What do you think about their wedding! How do you see it? Where would it be? Who would be invited, etc?

How would they act? Are they both nervous or one of them is handling it better? ^ ^

Wick D'Antonio!!! What's interesting to me is that their wedding would look really different if they were still a part of the Table, versus in retirement. It's more romantic if they're retired, but I think it has more drama if they're still in the Table, so I'll do that version.

This was almost a fic - it has a plot honestly. Might write it later, we'll see!

Image sources: 1 2 3 (monogram) 3 (background) 4 5

You're absolutely right that they'd have a beach wedding. Beaches are important for both of them.

John lets Santino do most of the planning for their suits and for the theme, because fashion and decoration are his area of expertise. "Anything you pick will be beautiful."

So they have a blue color scheme with touches of silver, on top of lots of billowing white fabrics and blue and white flowers. And of course, the food is extravagant because he can afford it.

Coffee-flavored wedding cake with hand sculpted John and Santino cake toppers!! They both like coffee, so it's perfect. John thinks the cake toppers are really funny.

Santino has an extravagant blue suit and John wears white (You might expect black, but today isn't about him as a killer, it's about his new life with Santino and his sweeter side). They weren't going to see each other's suits before the wedding, but then Santino got too excited about picking clothes and they ended up suit shopping together. They also both have silver flower crowns, because I said so!

The guest list is a nightmare. Santino has to make sure no one is snubbed, because being invited to a wedding has political significance within the Table (not to mention within his family), and you don't want to make enemies. So he has to be really careful. Especially with the seating chart…

Security is a big issue as well, because this is a perfect time for assassination. John and Ares are both overworked trying to make sure the grooms will be safe.

When he's working on the guest list and security, Santino gets overwhelmed and starts to break down because he feels like their wedding isn't even about them anymore - there's too much politics involved. Plus, he's scared someone will take the opportunity to make an attempt on his life before his new life with John can even begin. So John has to calm him down and remind him that no matter what happens, he'll protect him from any fallout and they'll be on their honeymoon soon, which is only for them.

On the other hand, John barely has any guests. There's Winston, Caine, Sofia, and Katia, and…that's about it. It makes Santino a bit sad to see it, and he tries to make sure John can hang out with his family if he wants to. At least with Gianna.

There's a lot of back-and-forth in John's mind over whether to invite The Director. Ultimately, he decides not to do it. He says it's because she wouldn't really want to come anyway, but he honestly just doesn't want to see her on a day that is supposed to be happy.

On the day of the wedding, both of them are soooo nervous!! Santino wants everything to go well and according to plan - he's constantly fussing over his suit and pacing around memorizing his vows. John is nervous too, but he expresses it by being deathly quiet and just having a worried look on his face.

But once they see each other, everything melts away and they're smiling so much and can't stop crying. Their vows are so sweet - to protect each other to the death, to be there in sickness and health, to honor and listen to each other, to always be each other's first priority, to show each other the innocence that can't be found in the rest of this broken world.

And then…THE WEDDING DOES GET ATTACKED!!! But here's the twist: although neither of them told the other because they don't want to worry them, both of them decide to carry concealed weapons during the ceremony, just in case they need to protect each other. They both pull out their weapons at the same time and kill the assassins.

The attack is a blessing in disguise: it turns out to be a display of their strength, solidifying Santino's reputation and teaching others not to mess with the power couple!! It's also a demonstration of their love for each other and everyone is touched.

This gives them a nice boost of adrenaline as fuel for their wedding night ;) They're definitely making love with a passion because they're so grateful that both of them made it out alive…and because Santino thinks the splash of blood on John's white suit is actually kind of hot. They can barely get through the dancing after dinner before rushing off to be alone together <3

[hanni-3]

Everyone give a round of applause to.......

Maymay Yù !!!

At 10 years old Maymay Yù moved to her to Golden Grove all the way to her birthplace : China! She was actually very excited to move into a whole new continent and explore every bits of corner and meet new people and maybe be their friends! Sure, she'll miss her friends, teachers and the nice old people back in China but hey, at least her ma is still with her.

Maymay is a cis girl all the way to step 4!

Just like Mariana, Maymay isn't afraid to tell the truth but she's not as like her. She'll sugarcoat her words with her charming and friendly personality.

"What do you think of my hat Maymay?"

"The hat is very pretty, you have good taste! But maayybee.. There's another one that could suit you even better?"

Just like Qiu, she was popular back in China because of her thoughtfulness, helpfulness and had plenty of people who wanted to spend time with her or sit next to her. And Maymay would accept without hesitation with open arms.

The relationship with the leads??!!

Whenever you would ask Maymay about love, she'd smile and say "It's a nice feeling, even tough I'm not the biggest fan of it."

When Tamarack Baumann popped out the leaves, Maymay noticed how her hair had sparkles in it and how she was so pretty.

Without hesitation the first said she did was to complimented her and felt even more happier when Tamarack responded back saying she was pretty and how she liked her bow. Which she reached up to it proudly.

They bonded very easily!! Immediately becoming forest buddies and went to find the paper airplane person who wrote weird stuff.

When she saw Qiu Lin, she thought "this is the second pretty person I saw, how many pretty people are there in Golden Grove?" a lot

Those two bonded also pretty easily thanks to their similar personality and Maymay teasing Autumn for their forgetfulness about the papers and Qiu teases her back about knowing she like him too.

In the end (step 4), Maymay sworn that day, she met the best people of her life (next to Opal) and found new family members <3

*—————*

Step 2 Maymay!!!! Isn't she pretty?

At 14 years old, she is still the same Maymay Yù, the same charming toughtful girl.

Expect there are some quick changes, the braces, sure but that's the typical teenage stuff let me tell you she barely couldn't eat anything when she first got them and she couldn't stop salivating everywhere.

Then we have.......her obsession with the color white, half of her wardrobe and accessories are white and maybe there a corners of her room is white. In her defense it suits her.

She is still forest buddies with Tammy of course, being the lead in between them with no problem and defending her like her life depends on it it actually does. <3

And with Autumn, 'Lulu' she calls them. She's there for them the same way Qiu was at 10. Also being the leader in the between of them.

She'd drop everything she's carrying without hesitation to lend an ear or shoulder for Qiu whenever they'd feel down. <3

Quick fun fact, in step 1 when Qiu introduced himself. She told him she knows what Qiu meant and that it's Chinese. She was actually happy there was someone else with the same nationality as her. She once spoke to him in chinese and... Qiu didn't really understand, he understood some of the words but didn't really know how to respond (he tried to, that's what it counts).

After that, Maymay would often tease them in chinese or just talk to them or teach them! She likes talking her native language so she's glad to teach anyone certain word or sentences.

Oh, and whenever you see Opal and Maymay together, chances are high they'd speak Chinese with each other too.

(and if Qiu's parent can speak Chinese decently well she'd talk to them in chinese as well :33)

*—————*

One last important thing, she did researches in step 2 - 3 about something, why she wasn't attracted to anyone, why she didn't feel those butterflies flap their wings inside her stomach and the basic romance stuff basically. And after some quick researches and relating to some texts ; she found out she's actually aroace!! And she came out to basically all the important people (including Yusuf her father figure) and of course they all supported her <3

WOO!! I love Maymay she's so silly goobers :3 and I'm glad to write about my mcs something I never tought I'd do tbh...

[amethysia]

alright, I'm caving because my brain won't stop thinking about it. Even though I know so little about Gravity Falls and I've lived vicariously through others since five-ever.

This is a long one, so buckle up.

So with the book of bill, some folks have said that bill can get reincarnated. My brain was like, "well, how about a back in time/different universe reincarnation au?" And this reincarnation makes Bill born as the older brother of Fiddleford (either as a fraternal twin or just by a year). Let's say Bill's real name is Williford Cyrus McGucket, because yknow, why not. He's definitely the sassier, charismatic brother, with some playful bickering. He's a bit heftier with black hair, and has a weird passion for bowties. He and Fiddleford are close and decide to go to the same college together. Bill goes to become an astronomer and astro physicist. He meets Stanford when he visits his brother's dorm room.

The three of them become close and after graduation, work together.

At some point, Bill catches the feels for Ford. However, he notices at one point, Fiddleford also has feelings for Stanford. Fidds doesn't outright say anything, but Bill can tell, because he knows his brother. Now, in this world, he actually loves others more, albeit he still has a rather arrogant attitude. So he has a moment to think about it, writes some letters, and 'quits' working with his brother and Ford. He packs his things and heads westward.

Fidds and Ford are shocked that he left, but reads his letters. Essentially, it says to them that he loves them both, wants to try something new with his life, and who knows from there. PS, you two make a cute couple. They both get nervous and embarrassed that Bill would say that, but in a cute turn of events, they wind up confessing to each other anyhow.

Bill is pretending to not be sad, trying to be happy for his brother and Ford, but can't help but throw himself a pity party when he stays in another state, still trying to figure out what to do with his life (we find out Bill is a wine snob thanks to this moment in his life). At some point a certain door to door salesman comes along who looks an awful lot like Ford. Confused, Bill thinks something weird happened to Ford, but the salesman is obviously Stanley. Bill befriends him and realizes that he could help him out in his business endeavors, due to his 'genius' and giving him the opportunity to figure out his own future if this goes well.

They hatch up a scheme of making an oddities tourist attraction ala Ripley's, in a place that is affordable, has "gullible" locals, and is something they can run with minimum effort and can make the most profit. (Btw, because of this, our boy Stanley dodges jail time)

Stanley and Bill create the Mystery Shack. Because Stanley has been on adventures with Ford and Bill has knowledge of weird things, they are able to take the time to explore Gravity Falls and catch cryptids and other curiosities there. It becomes an odd place where there's fake dead fairies, but a real mummy corpse. Fake cursed gold, but a probably very real cursed spear. They are both charismatic swindlers, but amazing business partners. Because of their similarities, they become great friends over time. "Mr. Decipher" likes to wear a top hat and a gold colored sport coat (Stan: "that jacket makes your hips stand out, like you're triangular shaped."). "Mr. Mystery" wears a fez and a nice suit. (Bill: "At least I don't look like a Shriner...")

Many years later, with a fairly successful, somewhat shadely run, business, Dipper and Mabel arrive. Stan is nervous and does everything to prepare, even asking Bill to shape up a bit too. Bill agrees, because Stan has been a great friend to him and it's amusing to see him so excited.

They have a wild summer. (Bill is a bad influence for Mabel in the party hard sense, but he also becomes a bit of a mentor to Dipper, due to his scientific background.)

At one point, Ford and Fiddleford stop by to visit. They all catch up. Bill is kind of awkward, even though he's written to them, called, 'made peace with being single', but still a little sad over missing out on a potential relationship. Ford thanks Bill for helping him and Fiddleford get together all those years ago and Bill gives him a sober and solemn "you're welcome, Sixer". The visit is pleasant and the rest of summer runs its course.

A day after Fidds and Ford leave, Stan sits down with Bill. He knows the story about why he stopped working with them and how putting distance between them made their bond with him grow. He also thanks him for their business, their friendship, and for helping with the twins. Bill is also grateful and thanks Stan for putting up with him all these years.

Mabel at some point asks Stan how he got such a weird boyfriend. Stan obviously gets all, "What are you talking about?!" At another point, Mabel asks Bill how he landed her grunkle Stan. Bill just stares at her and asks, "Little too much candy today, ey Shooting Star?"

Later that day, Stan is the first to relay Mabel's question and Bill laughs, "you too, huh?"

Stan asks if Bill wants to go out at sea some day on the Stan-of-War and enthusiastically Bill agrees.

Hope you enjoyed my nonsense. Sorry if a lot of it is rather inaccurate, but I guess that's what AUs are for? Lol. Cheers!

[lowkeyremi]

mayaaaaa !! so your aot fluff just sent my soul back to my levi fanfic phase 😭😭 can you please please write more of levi with his younger lover ??? i need to know all about it !!! how do they cuddle? how did they get together? what’s he like in public with them????

love you lots <33

OFC!! This is such a cute concept i'm excited to write this >:3 AND ILY TOO <333

It's not required but if you haven't read the first part you might wanna do that :)

CW: None, just fluff

First encounter:

The two of you met when he was on a business trip. You and your friends were shopping for new clothes and he was at the store for a new tie, because according to his boss, "you wear that same tie all the time, Ackerman. This meeting is really important so try to look nice."

When you saw him it was game over. Funny thing is you didn't even try to hide it either, your eyes widened, your jaw was on the floor, and everything.

"That guy is so hot! You should talk to him." Your friend squeals.

"No way in hell, he's probably married! That'd be so weird." You argue in return. Your friend didn't give up though.

"Excuse me, sir! If you're looking for a tie my friend can help you look for one! She used to work in retail." Her voice is sweet when talking to him. If that super hot guy hadn't been right there you would have smacked her.

He didn't say anything at first, he looked you up and down. "He's checking you out!" She whisper-yelled. You elbowed her in the rib.

"I have a suit that looks like- you know what let me just look for a picture." He says, and what the hell... his voice is like silk.

You walk over to him. "Here it is." The suit is a dark gray, with a white undershirt. Your eyes scan his phone, it's an older outdated model and you can't help but giggle.

"Is gray a bad color for me?" He asks, with sarcasm.

"No no! It's just.. what model is your phone? It looks old." His brows furrow as he inspects his phone.

"I don't know, I got it a long time ago." He says with a shrug, "It works just fine."

"Sorry sorry. What kind of tie do you have right now? If you have one." You say trying to be inclusive.

"The one I usually wear is black but this is a special occasion so I need something else." You hum lightly while looking around.

"Okay, I'm thinking blue. Specifically dark blue." He nods and you two look around for a dark blue tie without patterns because he's basic.

Out of the corner of your eye your friends are making smooching faces and other romantic gestures. You're going to end them later.

"I found one thanks for the help." He says.

"Of course!" Fuck, too happy?

He stares at you for a moment, and you stare back before looking away. You take a step back and clear your throat.

"C-can.. I get your number?" Your foot is tapping and you're looking everywhere except for at him.

"Yeah, sorry if my calls don't go through because of my crappy phone." He says with a small.. smile?

You stare for a second in silence.

"That was my attempt at making a joke, it was bad." He says with a sigh.

"Yeah... we're gonna need to work on that. What's your name Mr. Gloomy?" You hand over your phone, you have the dial screen open so he can put in his number.

"Levi Ackerman." That small smile returns.

"I'll see you around, Levi."

In public:

Turns out you were actually the one who wasn't big on telling people about you at first. Levi is proud of everything he does. In all honesty you were slightly embarrassed by having an older boyfriend.

"What if people think you're my sugar daddy or something?" You reason.

"I'm not that old." He rolls his eyes.

"Why does it matter what other people think of our relationship anyway? They're not dating you, I am." He explains. He makes it sound like common sense, which it is, but you still think it's a little awkward.

"I mean it doesn't matter too much but-"

"I respect your decision. I'm not huge on PDA but I'd at least like people close to me to know." He explains rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. You grab his hand (which happens to be very veiny and pretty) and kiss it.

"Thanks, Levi."

-----

When you did tell everyone... you were all over him. Levi was never big on PDA but he didn't mind giving you a little kiss or holding your hand.

The only time he's really touching you in public is one someone's hitting on you. Levi gets scared that you'll find someone younger than him.

-----

"Did you want to go out sometime?" Your new co-worker asks you. He doesn't know you have a boyfriend but you've been rejecting him all week.

You check your phone to see that Levi's just arrived. Your shift ended early today and he promised to come get you and take you out.

"Um no than-"

"Are you ready to go, baby?" Levi's voice is confident and smug. The guy looks over to Levi and then to you. His face flushes and he starts to stammer.

"U-uh sorry. I... I didn't know." Levi exhales as the guy walks away in a hurry.

"You should call me that more often." You chime in with a cheeky smirk.

"I do." He offers you his hand. When you take it, he leads the way to his black cadillac.

"I mean yeah! But not outside of the house."

"I'm working on it... baby."

Meeting the parents:

To your surprise they were very accepting of Levi.

"They've always been very childish. I'm so glad they found someone to keep them in shape." Your mother was embarrassing as always.

"Take care of them." Your father had said.

Levi nodded and they stood there awkwardly.

"Um dad! Levi works for a law firm! Isn't that something? You've always wanted me to get into law school, remember?" Your attempt to change the subject worked.

"I did, but you never wanted to. Always said "Dad! I don't wanna sit at a desk all day!" What law firm do you work for Levi?" It must be a parent's job to embarrass their child.

"Oh I work for..."

That convo went on forever.

-------

"Hello, Mrs. and Mr. Ackerman." Levi nodded, which motivated you to place down the bouquet of Mrs. Ackerman's favorite flowers on her gravestone.

"You guys seemed like great people from what Levi told me. I'm taking care of him, he's not a lonely loser anymore." Tears are welling up but nothing comes out, you smile softly.

"I was never a loser." His eye roll doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"If that's what makes you feel better, then okay. Anyway, I wish I could have had the chance to meet you guys. Mrs. Ackerman I can see why your husband married you. You were fine as hell. That must be where Levi gets it from." You rant with a little giggle.

"I look more like my father." He reminds you.

"Yeah yeah, this isn't about you. I'm trying to meet your parents." You wave him away and continue to talk to the Ackermans.

"I think they would have liked you, a little weirded out by you at first but in the end they would have loved you like you were their own." Two arms wrap around you and then those tears fall. Out of all your relationships none have ever made you feel this loved and wanted.

Chilling:

"Boop!" Levi almost bites your finger this time.

"Stop "booping" me. It's annoying." He's facing you while in bed, those dark, onyx eyes look into yours. God he's so beautiful.

"I'm bored, let's get up." That's probably the tenth time you've said that to him.

"We agreed on fifteen more minutes of cuddling." Levi is a cuddler. In previous relationships you've complained about not being cuddled enough.

Levi is all about physical affection inside of the household. You love it, but at times like right now, you just crave to move around.

He's peppering your face with kisses, your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks, everywhere. The cherry on top is that he smiles when he hears you chuckle at his actions.

"Okay now we can get up, since you're so impatient." Those snuggly arms let go of your body so you can go get ready for the day.

"I love you Levi!" He hesitates upon hearing you say that before responding, "I love you too."

In conclusion Levi is literally like a dad who has to keep one of those little kid backpack leash things on his kid (you) lol he loves you tho <3

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 2

after god knows how long (months tho tbh), i am happy to present: hobie1610 part dos! In this installment, we see how Miles eventually rounds right back to Hobie Jones to apologize after pt. 1's gigantic blunder

hope y'all enjoy! :)

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 3 here<

It was several weeks into the first semester-- with winter just right around the corner-- before Miles finally got around to confronting the little Hobie Problem that he had.

Being laden with pounds upon pounds of assignments to get done before the holidays and then trying to keep up with Spiderman duties on top of it all, managing his parents’ overwhelming expectations once again, and trying to survive as a teenager in general forced his first day blunder onto the back burner for much longer than Miles would have liked.

Sure, his anxiety is a bitch sometimes, and it holds him back from directly addressing a lot of issues in his life, but Rio didn’t raise any neanderthal. Miles knew that when he messed up, he messed up.

Problem is, every time he’s tempted to just reach a hand out to his dimension’s Hobie Br-- Jones, pat his shoulder lightly, pull him into a corner somewhere during lunch maybe, and finally man up and apologize… that’s when some crook starts some problems downtown, or some mad scientist finally snaps somewhere and starts to wreak havoc with crazy gadgets a bit too unnervingly close to his neighborhood.

Or Miles gets back to his dorm room and sees that he has an assignment due the very next day that he hasn’t even had the chance to hop on yet, because of aforementioned crooks and mad scientists.

It was all driving him crazy.

And so now here he was, up on a rooftop in the middle of a chilly fall day, hanging out with his inter-dimensional besties (who he lightheartedly calls the Spider Squad but he hasn’t quite brought that up to them yet).

They were on a lunch break after pummeling and restraining some prisoners-- who somehow got out of the Raft-- that tried to make their way across the Brooklyn Bridge. Miles sure appreciated the help, which was one of the many positives of letting Hobie Brown make dimension watches for everyone, mostly so they could all help another Spider shoulder the burdens that usually befell them.

But the teens-- being teens, of course-- also used their watches to just pop into an open portal and hang out with each other as often as they could. Who could blame them? Being a superhero and a kid was overwhelming most of the time. Sometimes they needed a listening ear or a supportive shoulder to cry on every now and then, and getting the opportunity to chill and explore a whole new world for them was always a thrill.

(Miles himself could never deny the excitement of getting to go to Mumbattan for shopping trips every so often, either.)

So with all of that in mind it was tempting to, after seeing the long and lanky punk Spiderman climb through his own multi-colored portal, ask Hobie if he could go back to New London with him. He needed to get something off of his chest.

Hobie, languidly as ever, hikes a skinny shoulder up in a nonchalant shrug and goes “ye’ sure, mate. Somethin’ up, or?”

Pavitr leans forward from his conversation with Gwen-- the little snoop, goddamnit-- and swallows a particularly big bite of his sandwich. “Oooooh, Miles and Hobie? Alone, in New London? Wow!” He elbows Gwen, who shakes her head and snorts into her bottled juice.

Miles puffs up. “Hey, it’s not like that! We just need to talk. In private. Nothing’s wrong, I uh… I just need some advice. That’s all!”

Hobie’s grin is full of teeth. “Waidaminnit. Miles Morales... Thee Great Miles Morales, needin’ my advice? Interesting!” His freeform locs bob and wiggle teasingly with every movement of his head.

Feeling put on the spot, Miles pouts as he picks at some lint on his spider suit and finishes off his soda as quickly as he can manage.

Gwen, bless her heart, notices his discomfort and scooches closer to him on the rooftop ledge. “… Is everything alright, by the way? It isn’t anything bad, is it?”

Miles glances at her before returning his gaze to the concrete several stories below. “Uhm, nah. Nah, it’s… y’know, it’s just more inter-dimensional weirdness. But I’m sure I can fix it. I think,”

He then shoots her a grateful smile for her considerate check-in, and pulls his mask back down over the lower half of his face. Gwen understands this as his “I’ll be back for another check-in later,” behavior and simply nods back. She knows not to push him.

“Well,” Hobie unfolds himself from his position on some scaffolding on the side of building, straightening himself up to his full height and stretching, “I’m all finished, then. Prob'ly not a good idea to go swingin’ on full stomachs, though. Let’s take a quick walk before headin’ home, yeah?”

Miles grabs Hobie’s hand and helps him hoist himself up over the ledge, and the teens all gather their trash into one plastic bag together. They chatter and slip their masks on as they casually walk down the side of the half-constructed building, finally touching down onto the concrete alleyways and relishing the quiet of an empty block before heading to the congested streets of downtown Brooklyn.

They all eventually bid each other their farewells after a few quick photo ops from excited New Yorkers, but of course not before Pavitr leans into Miles’ ear conspiratorially and whispers: “Let me know how it goes, bro! Good luck!”

Pav punches Miles on the shoulder lightly and winks at him, then he does a backflip into his golden-bright portal and blinks out of existence.

Miles rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Does he want me and Hobie to be together, or me and you? I can never tell with that guy,” he groans at Gwen, whose shoulders are shaking with badly-concealed laughter.

“I think he just watches too many of those soap operas, honestly. Trashy daytime TV will do that to a guy sometimes.” She quips just as humorlessly.

Miles gives her a sidelong glance and a smirk. “Right. Rots your brain. Poor Pav!”

Gwen and Hobie laugh at that as Gwen pulls up her own portal.

“I’m thinkin’ we need t’ stage an intervention, really.” Hobie adds.

“Yes, and soon,” Miles points out.

“I’ll see what I can do to pull him away from those shows, but you know how his aunt is,” Gwen snorts. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Pav is just a huge romantic anyways, soaps or no soaps.”

“When I’ve got relationship issues, I guess I know the guy to go to, then,” Miles shrugs, then throws Gwen a casual salute goodbye.

She stands in front of white and multi-colored splotches of watercolor floating out from her dimensional portal as she salutes Miles back, giving Hobie a quick wave. “Let me know how your little inter-dimensional weirdness problem goes too, Miles! Talk to us in the groupchat every once in a while!”

And like that, she’s gone.

So now Hobie and Miles were left alone together.

Standing in the middle of a dirty alleyway on a cold autumn afternoon wasn’t Miles’ exact definition of a good time, though… why wasn’t Hobie opening his own portal right now? Miles turns his mask’s gigantic white eyes up to his dimensional variant (and boy was that a weird thing to think about when Hobie brought that up one day during a Spider Sleepover at Gwen’s) and gives him a pointed stare.

Hobie’s own painted eyes meet his.

“So…” Miles says.

“So…” Hobie says, his grin evident in his voice.

“Are we or are we not going back to yours?” Miles stuck his fists on his hips impatiently.

“First,” Hobie says as he holds up a long skinny finger, “I gotta know what this is about. ‘Cause we all know you, Miles. I don’t wanna enable any avoidant behaviors, mate. You know how it is.”

“What?!” Miles throws up his hands in the air. “Dude! SO not cool! You are not my dad.”

Hobie shakes his head. “You know I’m right, though. This ain’t about your parents, is it?”

Goddamn Hobie and his parental instincts. When is this guy ever going to get off of mom duty?

Miles huffs. “No, Hobie. It’s not. Look. I just, uh… if you don’t wanna go back to your dimension, then can we get away from like… this area in general, please?”

Hobie hummed in thought, then shrugged and shot a web up to a nearby street lamp. Together, the two Spidermen swung through the concrete jungle that was earth-1610’s New York City until they ended up somewhere near the Financial District in Manhattan, happening upon a sort of indoor rooftop terrace party that a bunch of corporate yuppie-looking people were enjoying behind giant glass windows. A few of those yuppies were out onto the actual rooftop smoking and talking amongst themselves in the cold while the party bumped along behind them.

The sun was setting quickly, and darkness descended upon both Spiderman as they scaled a nearby building and sat on a water tank to secretly watch the party from a little ways away. Miles took solace in the dark most times, and drank up the view of what few stars could be seen in the New York City skyline.

The clouds were scarce on this particular fall evening, so the red and yellow hues on the horizon were completely uninterrupted. Miles’ dimension took on an almost ethereal glow sometimes, and during this time of day, he was more than grateful for it.

Hobie was silent as he watched the sun set alongside Miles, until the entire city was enshrouded in darkness and the stars of the cosmos seemed to have fallen from the heavens and landed right onto the buildings and bridges laid out all before them. Lights from cars making their nightly rounds and tall buildings glittered all around them, and just beyond the skyscrapers, bits of the Upper Bay could be seen shimmering and reflecting the glittery light right back.

It was breathtaking. Beautiful.

But time was running out. They couldn’t sit here and watch the scenery and the people from several hundred feet away forever. Miles also knew Hobie had stuff to deal with in his own world, a million miles away from anything he could ever know. With a world-weary sigh, Miles finally takes his mask off fully and winds it up and around his hands, over and over.

“Your problem botherin’ you that much, Mi?” Hobie grins at his friend, taking his own mask off and running a hand through his locs.

“It’s just… I…” Miles chews on the inside of his cheek, wondering how to proceed.

It really was a weird problem to have, all things considered. There aren't many instances where someone pisses off a dimensional variant of their friend, and they have another version of that very same friend right by their side to ask how to even go about fixing the rift they caused in the first place.

“It’s just that I... like… I messed up pretty badly, right? And I know it’s totally my fault,” Miles is speaking quickly now, bottled up words now spilling forth like water, “but my anxiety started spiking up randomly out of nowhere and I just blew it, man. I wasn’t really thinking. Well, actually, I was. I was overthinking but I didn’t really mean to leave this guy hanging for so long afterwards and--”

Hobie throws a leg over his other one, propping himself onto an arm and leaning back to face Miles. “Okay. Okay, Miles, that’s cool. Thanks for the disclaimer, bruv, but we’re gonna have to start from the beginning.” He chuckles.

Miles laughs nervously. “Right, right. Yeah,” he takes a breath, licks his lips and tries again.

“So… on my first day of school I bumped into… you. I mean, not you, I mean like my dimension’s version of you.”

Hobie raised a pierced brow. “Wait, there’s another me here, too?”

“Yeah, yeah and I just almost crashed right into-- wait.” Miles’ brain took a second to buffer. “What do you mean too?”

“Ehhh, we found another me in some odd dimension or another. Y’know, like, one of those ones we don’t go to often. It was whatever,” Hobie shrugs casually.

Miles had a couple of questions about that but he decided to stick to the topic and not get distracted for now. “... Right, cool. So yeah, I almost crashed into you at Visions, except it wasn’t you.”

Hobie nodded. “You almost crashed into Not Me. Got it.”

“… Because I was late for class and not really, uh, thinking. Like at all. But it was you, you know what I mean? Not You is super bad at directions and navigating buildings, I guess, so I helped him out. Annddd I guess he wanted to be my friend afterwards, but.”

“Mhmm,” Hobie hums, in a tone that sounded a lot like him saying go on, then.

“Did you, uh… did you know your name is Jones sometimes?” Miles scratches at his ear awkwardly. “Hobie Jones, not Hobie Brown. It was weird when I found out, because another student said his full name and so that’s how I found out in the first place,”

Hobie inhales. “Hmm! Interesting. Dunno that I like the sound of that, if we’re gonna be honest here. Doesn’t really roll off the tongue the same, I think. But alright. Why’s that so important?”

“Uhhh,”

Hm. Shit. This was the part Miles dreaded getting to in the first place.

How was he going to put into words the weird dread that befell him upon learning that this Jones character might very well be this dimension’s version of his MJ? How could he possibly explain the thrilling electricity that races up and down his spine everytime he totally does not think about dating, kissing, possibly even having children with this other Hobie? How was he going to get that across to this super-cool, super-hot, super-put-together version of him?

Speaking those kinds of words out loud right to Hobie’s chiseled face made Miles slightly nauseous. He opted to circumnavigate that little problem altogether.

“Listen, don’t ask, okay? Seriously, man, I’m not playin’. Buuuut… if I pissed you off real bad, how would. Like, how could I make it up to you, theoretically speaking?”

Hobie exhaled a laugh. Miles could see his bright grin even in the low lighting of the night. “Huh? How’d you go from helpin’ Not Me out to pissin’ ‘im off all of the sudden? We’re missin' a step there, Milesie. C’mon now,”

Miles laughed too. “Ho-biieee, I already told you, man!” He hated how whiny he sounded, but this really wasn’t the time. “You cannot ask me about it!”

Hobie tossed his head like a horse. “Oh my god, mate. I can’t give ya solid advice when I don’t even know what the hell I’m givin’ advice for. I gotta know what happened, bruv, what’d ya do?”

“Just--! Ugh,” Miles deflated. “I maybe sorta... ditched him all of a sudden. Like, out of nowhere. When he, uh, when he needed me.”

Hobie’s glittering eyes bore holes into Miles’ hot face. “Mhmm? Why for?”

“Hobie, for the love of all that is good in the world, just--! Throw me a bone, here, man. I am dying of embarrassment right now!” He buried his face in his hands as Hobie rocked back with laughter.

“Why’d ya ditch ‘im?! That doesn’t sound like ya, Mi. Sounds like a real wick thing, but not a Morales thing to do. C’mon, what did Not Me say to you? You can pretend I’m him and I’ll apologize an’ everything.”

“No no no no, Hobie you don’t get it,” Miles sighed. “He didn’t do or say anything. That’s the thing. I just… I freaked out I guess, when I looked up his name and saw that he was a super accomplished model and everything. He’s got thousands of followers on Flickstagram, even. But I just…! I dunno what my brain was doing to me, once I saw that. I guess I just had a mini panic attack and just… bounced. Then, obviously I had tons of homework and Spiderman stuff to deal with, so ever since then, we’ve just been avoiding each other in the halls and I haven’t had any time to even tell him anything. I really messed up, man.”

Hobie was unnervingly silent as he thought for a good minute. The night had really fallen thick onto the city and the temperatures were dropping fast. Miles could barely see his own breath clouding in front of him or even Hobie’s face now that the darkness completely enshrouded them both, and it made him a little nervous.

“So…” Miles prodded carefully.

“Super accomplished model and everything, eh?” Hobie quietly asked after a little while. Miles couldn’t see Hobie’s expression, but he could hear the rhythmic rubbing of fabric against fabric as Hobie rubbed at his arm with a gloved hand.

“Uhhyup.” Miles confirmed.

“Hm. Utterly fascinated now, mate. Tell me more about this other me, then. He cool like me, or a total neurotic space cadet?”

Miles rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I can’t tell you much. We haven’t gotten to talk much. I guess you can be the judge, here’s his social media here...”

He then pulls his phone out of a recently-added pocket he found the time to sew onto his suit, taking inspiration from his mother’s own yoga leggings that she got as a birthday gift a few months before. The fact that spandex was able to hold so much but still stay so snug against your body was nothing short of a modern miracle, in Miles’ opinion. He was grateful for it now as he unlocked his phone and tapped on Hobie M. Jones’ page right out of the search history on his phone’s Flickstagram app.

Once he hands his phone to his friend, he has to resist the urge to suck in a breath as he watches the bright light from his screen illuminate Hobie’s features in ways he’s never seen before.

Hobie takes a second to scroll for a bit and Miles watches as the light plays across his features with just a bit more rapt attention than he normally would. Must be getting late, and Miles’ brain has historically been known not to work very well when he was tired.

Then, Hobie handed the phone back to Miles and folded his arms across his knees.

“Interesting, interesting,” was all he muttered. Thankfully, he did not comment on the “M. Jones” part of the username.

Miles tried lightening the mood. “Let me guess. You hate him because he’s not a fascist-fighting punk like you, huh.”

“I can’t be th’ judge of that, Miles. You know social media ain’t real life, and all that just looked like his portfolio to me, if we’re gonna be honest.” He checked his spiked bracelet in the light of Miles’ lit up screen. “I think that this other me doesn’t really feel too comfortable openin’ up and lettin’ other people see who he really is, though. So if you do go off an’ apologize to ‘im, I don’t think it’ll be very easy to gain his trust back.”

“Hold on,” Miles shakes his head and tucks his phone away again. “You got all that from looking at his Flicksta for not even a minute? How do you even know all of that?”

“’Cause he’s me, bruv. I know that look on his face, on those candids. Even them professional shots look… like, well, I dunno how t’ explain it. I guess it’s just sort of like--”

“If you know, you know?” Miles puts in.

“Mm,” Hobie smiles and nods. “Yep. That. He’s… withdrawn. Held back. I ‘unno… doesn’t seem like he has many friends.”

Miles sits back to think about the distant and carefully-put together mask that Hobie Jones slipped onto his face back when an annoying student butted into their conversation just before 2nd period that fateful day. Not to mention how famous he seemed, that the whole school wanted to pull him into a million different directions just for some selfies and autographs in general…

“He’s famous. He has a billboard up near the school, even,” Miles says without thinking.

“That explains it, then.”

Miles thought aloud for a bit. “He told me that I was the only person in the world who didn’t look at him like he was made out of solid gold. Hmmm,”

“Right then. That’s a start, eh?”

Miles sighed. “I-if… if someone who you thought could be like, your only friend in the whole world. Your only real friend… if that person abandoned you out of nowhere, with no explanation… how would I go about making it up to you?”

Hobie doesn’t comment on the phrasing of that question, either. He lays a warm hand on Miles’ cold shoulder and squeezes.

“Listen, Mi. You’re real special, you already know that. If he liked ya enough to wanna be your friend the very same day you two met, then I bet you can come up with somethin’ that’ll stick eventually. That being said… a little food ain’t never hurt no one.”

They stare at each other in the dark for a second.

“Uh, what?” Miles asks.

“Y’know. Like a peace offering. Bring ‘im a peace offering, make your apology, and then leave the poor kid alone. Let ‘im sorta… well, let ‘im kinda just chase you a little bit, right?”

Miles’ brow was raised high now. “What, like. Just leave some food and a note for him at lunch or something? Dude, that is so lame!”

“It’s about the mystique, mate. Trust me. Gotta keep the intrigue up, don’t crowd him too much or else you’ll scare man away, right? I hate when people grovel at my feet if I’m gonna be dead honest with ya. Don’t make too much of a big deal of it, and he just might forgive ya. You two'll be holdin' hands in no time,”

“Is that it? Is it really that easy?” Miles was skeptical.

Hobie shrugs and removes his hand from Miles’ shoulder. “Hell if I know, but if he’s anything like me, it just might work. Just be prepared to take it on the chin if he doesn’t forgive you in the end, though. Gettin’ ditched like that with no warning’s a bit hard on someone who’s never had any friends to lean on in the first place.”

Made sense to Miles. He shrugged, nodded, and then had only one question left to ask.

“… Cool. Got it. So, uh. What kinda food do you like, anyways?”

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

And that was how Miles ended up making a quick run (swing, really) over to his favorite Jamaican store for a dinner plate with some beef patties thrown in during the next day’s lunch period.

He couldn’t afford to be seen by security, so he suited up at his usual place on the rooftop of the school and sailed down to retrieve his peace offering as quickly as he could before lunch was over.

What luck, that he had the same lunch as Hobie Jones! Made this whole run a pretty easy thing to do at all, which was always a bonus.

Once he made his way back to the school, he hurriedly stuffed his mask back into his bag and practically jumped back into his uniform, not even taking the time to stop and check if his suit was properly hidden. No time for that, when the period was almost over and he hadn’t even gotten a bite to eat for himself.

Miles also took the time to write up what he hoped was a sufficiently appropriate apology note the previous night after getting back to his dorm room at a late hour, and he tucked that into the crinkled paper bag as carefully as he could manage. A grease-stained apology note was definitely not a cool thing to receive, especially from someone who wronged you out of nowhere and wasn’t even man enough to say that apology to your face.

He arranged everything as best he could while flying down several flights of stairs down to the cafeteria.

Once Miles pushes past the double doors into the large cafeteria area, he feels the tightness in his chest and the heat radiating from his gut outwards intensify more as he gets closer to his target.

It takes a bit of wandering to finally spot Hobie, but then Miles sees him: sat at a table near the center of the room. He’s surrounded by a bunch of fake friends all talking loudly over one another and trading phones over their meals. Hobie Jones himself looks forlorn even when in the middle of a group, surrounded on all sides by bodies he doesn’t even look directly at, even when he turns his head slightly to speak to them.

Well, shit.

Miles was not expecting Hobie to have fallen into so large a group of friends so soon. He spotted the same girl who pulled him aside for a selfie that one time sat at the same table, and her and her little posse were just gossiping loudly about any and everyone.

Miles found his feet stuck to the floor upon finally laying eyes on the scene.

Ugh. God. A bunch of preps poking their noses into his and Hobie’s business while probably begging to read the very private note that Miles wrote for him was absolutely not anywhere in his list of things he’d like to experience today.

So Miles did a sudden about-face and walked away quickly, before he was even spotted.

Plan B was set in motion, then: give the bag over to Hobie before the next period.

Miles always dreaded the class he and Hobie shared right after lunch. The awkwardness subsided after a while, since it was kinda hard to feel so bad about The Incident when the entire class had to cram for quizzes and do research for essays, but the pit in Miles’ stomach as he purposefully averted his gaze away from that corner of the room was never easy to ignore.

But now, after weeks of gloom and doom, Miles found himself actually being excited for the bell to ring. He quietly made his way upstairs to the top level and slipped into the classroom as gracefully as he could manage.

Sure, he was nervous as hell about it all, at the end of the day. But he wanted this little problem that’s been put away for far too long to just… finally be done and over with. If for nothing else, he just wanted one less student at Visions hating his guts, really.

He placed the paper bag onto Hobie’s chair and scooted it underneath the desk to hide it from the rest of the classroom. The last thing he needed was some other nosy student swiping it up and rifling through the contents before Hobie could see it.

Miles ate part of his sandwich in the peace and quiet of the classroom, enjoying what precious little minutes he had until the bell rang and everyone-- including the teacher-- filed in to start the class’s lessons of the day.

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

Miles’ simple plan was a success, just as his buddy Hobie Brown had predicted.

Hobie Jones had read the note quietly in his corner of the room and hastily shoved the dinner plate into his backpack soon after.

Miles didn’t know if that meant he was forgiven or not, but at least he took the (probably cold) food with him and read the note without tearing it up into a million pieces, so at least Miles had that going for him.

There was one last step to really clinch the victory, though; an invitation to meet up at the rooftop later that day, before the last bell finally rung and let all of the kids out of the school for the day. Miles still had a lot to get off his chest that he couldn’t quite lay down on paper, and he needed to properly apologize to Hobie’s face to finally put his conscience at ease.

Whether or not Hobie took the invitation was left up in the air, really.

Miles made sure to try and get a head start so he could make it up there before Hobie could, but he made sure to add “be up at the rooftop by 3:30pm if you’re coming or I’m bouncing” to the end of the note, because as much as he wanted to make amends with his dimension’s Hobie, he was not going to let petty school drama get in the way of Spiderman-ing.

Miles was a man of standards, and he held himself to some level of professionalism, thank you very much!

It was cold that day, very cold.

Miles was lowkey regretting his decision to meet outside now as he tucked his chin deeper into his big puffer jacket, warming his hands with his warm breath before shoving them into his pockets.

He hoped Hobie had gotten used to getting around the hallways a bit more now, and that he could find his way up to the roof level without becoming completely lost and just giving up entirely.

As the minutes crawled by, Miles found himself unlocking and locking his phone multiple times, checking the time, checking for any notifications to distract himself, and wondering just why he decided on the roof to meet instead of, say, his dorm room hallway or whatever.

Then, the roof access door slowly swung open, and there stood Hobie M. Jones in all his six-foot-something glory.

Miles sucked in his breath as Hobie’s big brown eyes scanned the roof and fell upon his face, and the both of them stood rooted to their spots for a split second like deer in headlights.

Then Hobie grunted, tugged at his ponytail to let it loose, and his long dreads fell all around his face in one graceful movement. Miles felt his mouth go dry.

Miles’ feet moved on their own. They met in the middle, and a strong wind rushed through to tousle Hobie’s impressive locs some more as they both stared each other down.

Miles finally opened his mouth to speak, feeling his voice catching in his throat for a split second, before being interrupted anyways.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Hobie says quickly, tucking his own chin into his expensive-looking jacket’s collar as well.

Miles’ brain bluescreened. “Wait, wha?”

Hobie huffed out a laugh, the vapors of his breath being carried away in the chilly wind like dandelion seeds. “I’m being serious, man. It’s… it’s cool, honestly. I get why you ditched me. It happens all the time,”

Miles’ heart sinks. “N-no, Hobie, look. I really messed up and I felt like I had to-- wait, what do you mean all the time?”

Miles had a sweeping feeling of déja vu overcome him then.

Hobie chuckled ruefully, shrugging as he shoves his hands deeper into his own pockets, mirroring Miles. “I mean, like… you think you’re the only one who ever ran for the hills after seeing how famous I was? It just happens. That’s my life, I guess.”

Miles’ lower lip stuck out a bit. “But that’s… dude. That is so depressing!”

Hobie shook his head, tossing a loc out of his face. “Sure, but it’s… it’s just my life. It’s just how things are when you’re a model around here.”

They looked sadly into each other’s eyes before Hobie averts his gaze to his shoes, scuffing the toe on the roof floor for a second before looking back up and continuing.

“… You, uhm. How’d you… how’d you know that I like Jamaican food, though? I’ve never told anyone about that before. Nobody but my family, anyways.”

“Uhh, lucky guess?” Miles offers him a lopsided grin.

Hobie smiles for real this time, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like his earth-138 counterpart. “You really are a weird guy, just like you said before. What else did you want to tell me, before we both gotta bounce?”

Miles gaped at him like a fish. “You… you have to let me apologize, though. Like actually. Before we both have to go.”

Hobie nodded. “Okay. I’m all ears,”

Miles took a deep breath. “I…!" His voice caught in his throat for a second. "Uh. Do you wanna maybe… hang out, like outside of school sometime? Maybe grab some more Jamaican food from my favorite place?”

Hobie looks at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “You… that’s your apology?”

Miles sighed. “I’m bad at conflict management, man. Just let me treat you to some more lunch and then… maybe we can just let this whole thing go, yeah? You won’t ever have to talk to me again after this, I promise!”

“You are seriously sending me mixed signals here,” Hobie says. But he doesn’t seem opposed to the idea.

“I know, I know! But please, just humor me, man. We can do it this weekend, even. I just… feel like a total dick after what I did and I wanna be able to actually make it up to you.”

Hobie directs his shy smile back down to the ground. “Jesus,” he mutters.

Miles holds his palms forward. “What? Is that a no?”

Hobie laughs, full and bright and it-- fuck-- it fills Miles with a dizzying thrill that makes him laugh, too!

“Fine… but if you ditch me again this time, you asshole--” Hobie grabs the front of Miles’ jacket and yanks it towards him, putting the both of them closer together and making a complete heatwave roll through Miles’ nerves, “I will-- uh,”

Miles doesn’t register why Hobie stops speaking all of a sudden until his eyes slowly follow down to what he’s looking at, and then both of their hearts stop at the same time.

In Miles’ earlier haste to jump into his clothing after his meal run, he forgot to button a few buttons on his shirt, which left his very visibly black and red suit out in the open with just one small yank of his coat’s zipper. The top of his red spider emblem shone bright against the dark spandex.

For a second, the world stopped. The wind stopped blowing, the cars down below stopped honking, Miles stopped breathing.

Then, he hastily took a step back and cleared his throat, hoping against hope that Hobie would not recognize the spider suit so easily.

“S-so, yeah? You’ll go? I, uh, promise I won’t stand you up if you do. We can, uhm. Exchange numbers if you want--” here, Miles starts fumbling around his pockets for his phone, a device that he clung onto like a lifeline moments ago now almost completely forgotten in the excitement of the situation.

Hobie swallows and takes a step back also. “Y-yeah… yeah, sure. Let’s uhm. Let’s link up later, then.”

Miles lets Hobie input his digits into his contact list, and then bids him farewell.

“I’ll text you later, okay? Gotta go now, bye!”

Miles almost wants to throw himself off the roof of the school just to land on the concrete sidewalks below with a splat. A flattened spider. It’s what he deserves, honestly.

But he swallows his embarrassment and rushes down the stairs towards his own dorm room, instead.

He seriously, seriously hopes Hobie didn't recognize his spider suit, goddamn!

Once Miles gets to his room, he sags against the door with a sigh and shrugs off his puffer jacket. Then, he fishes his phone out of the jacket’s pocket and flicks the screen on, which now has Hobie Jones’ digits input into it under the name of “MJ (from Visions)”.

Miles throws himself into his and Ganke’s shared computer chair and twirls over to the window.

It’s Miles. I am not ditching you this time, PROMISE, he sends over to the number.

A few minutes later, he gets a response and his stomach flutters with the chime.

You better not, Hobie playfully teases. I know where you sleep…

A few more knife emojis accompany the texts and Miles laughs out loud. Then he bites his lip.

Fuck… damn. This really is earth-1610’s version of MJ, huh. The name beamed straight into his eyeballs from where it sat right at the top of his messages and it continued to haunt him as he got his laptop out for the night to finally make some more leeway on his English essay.

Miles went to bed that night dreaming of him and a red-headed Hobie Jones holding Mayday.

[layla4567]

Teach me ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Adam warlock x fem!reader

Summary: You were a guardian of the galaxy but when your team broke up you decided to stay in Knowhere attending to other types of tasks. Now Adam, Kraglin, Groot, Cosmo, Phyla, and Rocket are part of the new team. And while you help with Nebula and Drax to take care of the children, Adam has an eye on you.

Warnings: none

Word count: 3k

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎… ⋙

Since you left the guardians things had changed a lot. Although, well, it couldn't be said that you really "left" the guardians because you were still working in Knowhere, only now you were doing less dangerous missions. Now you were in charge of taking care of the rescued children and some animals as well. Your specialty was teaching them basic things like reading, writing, etc. Thanks to that, you were now nicknamed "Knohere's teacher" and you could only laugh sweetly when you heard it.

But you weren't the only one who helped with the care of the children, occasionally Drax and Nebula also gave you a hand, but you soon discovered that the children adored you more than the other two, maybe it was because you had more patience or instinct Motherly, you weren't sure. You still remember that time a girl approached you happily saying something that makes you smile to this day.

(flashback)

You left your room always well ordered and full of several different species of plants that you watered daily. Even though you no longer went on missions with the team, you still wore your special suit because it was comfortable and beautiful. You walked out the door tying your hair into a messy bun ready to greet the kids and teach them something new today. You were reunited with Drax and Nebula when a girl with close-cropped platinum hair and purple eyes approached smiling with a notebook in hand.

"Well?, are you ready to learn about animals today, Ulani?"-Drax said

The girl in response began to jump happily while nodding her head fervently.

"Good, Come with me and Drax so we can teach you.."-Nebula said as she took Ulani's delicate hand to gently drag her towards a room, but the girl stood stoically in her place as if she was bolted to the ground and looked at them with a frown.

"I don't wanna"

Nebula was puzzled looking at Drax as if asking for an explanation. He crouched down to be at the height of the little girl.

"What's wrong? Don't you want to come with Uncle Drax and Aunt Nebula?"

Little Ulani shook her head with a pout without breaking eye contact and then to your surprise she pointed a chubby finger at you.

"I want her to teach me"

Now Ulani was looking at you with those beautiful little purple eyes shining with enthusiasm while a big smile returned to her face. Nebula crossed her arms in confusion as Drax patiently asked why she wanted to study with you.

"Because she has a nice smile and she always draws pictures for me"

you couldn't help but cover your mouth to hide your laughter as you grabbed the girl by the hand and took her with you to study.

(end of flashback)

This is how all the children of Knowhere, especially Ulani, would visit you in your room so that you could teach them numbers, colors and other things that seemed to be fun and useful to them. Meanwhile, the new guardians kept traveling through space fighting aliens and all that stuff you used to do. Of course, the newest member that got everyone's attention was Adam, especially your attention. Several times when they returned from missions and went to work on Knowhere, you had noticed how Adam would look at you while you played teacher. Even sometimes when he stared at you and you noticed it and turned to see him, he quickly turned his head and looked in another direction pretending that nothing had happened.

You were heading towards some tables and chairs that were outside the Knowhere dining room with your bag with everything you needed: pencils, papers, etc. There were already four excited children waiting for you and clearly among them was Ulani. You had grown fond of the girl and she with you. She was the most energetic of all the kids you taught and was always the first to ask when she didn't understand something.

"Hello miss (y/n), we are ready!"

you smiled at such a cordial welcome and sat down in the chair next to them ready to teach them how to write. You took out a couple of papers and several pencils for them while you dictated a few simple words. They obeyed you, paying attention and copying the words in big, messy letters. While you was reading what they had written and correcting them, a somewhat deafening noise accompanied by a fresh blizzard that made the papers fly was present. Out of the corner of your eye you saw how the guardians' ship landed near you and Captain Rocket and the others came down from it. They got out and people came up to them surrounding them and cheering like they were rock stars. They was always received like this and it seemed that the mission was successful. Rocket thanked and retired to his room drinking from a glass with a straw, the others stayed greeting the people of Knowhere. You smiled admiring them from afar. Suddenly you couldn't help but see Adam, he was greeting an old woman listening to her praise while he gently held her hands, you tilted your head a little and an "aww" escaped your lips without even thinking.

Ulani noticed your sigh and raised her head from the paper to look at you. You had lost sight and smiled like a fool. The intrigued little girl followed your gaze and noticed that you were looking at the sovereign.

"They're amazing, don't you think?"

You shook your head in confusion with raised eyebrows looking at her.

"What do you say, little one?"

Ulani pointed to where the guardians were. "They, are the best warriors in the galaxy, especially that tall golden boy"

Your smile became small while Ulani smiled, it seemed that the girl knew how to hit the nail on the head or she just couldn't imagine that you had some kind of crush on Adam. You blushed, muttering a vague statement, you felt ashamed for having been caught red-handed. But just like that, you looked at Adam again only to find his gaze fixed on yours, now he was looking at you with a tender smile. You felt your ears redden and you smiled nervously greeting him with one hand, he returned the gesture.

When the class ended and the dictations were corrected and scored, you announced that the next class you were going to read them a story so they would learn to read. They squealed with excitement while you laughed in amusement. So much fuss caused the sovereign looked at you smiling delighted. You collected your things while you said goodbye to the children with a kiss on their foreheads. Adam put what he was doing aside and turned to you. You put your backpack on your shoulder and you were going to go to your room when you saw him approach you with a happy step, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

"Greetings (y/n), how are you today?"

Adam hugged you leaving you speechless, he always used to hug people including you but every time he did it you felt a roller coaster in your stomach, of course he didn't know

"Hello Adam, I'm very well thank you. In fact I just finished a class with the children"

"Yeah, I saw you guys. It looked like fun"

Thousands of thoughts passed through Adam's head and they were all about you. The sovereign couldn't stop thinking of you every time he went on a mission and when everything became dangerous and they were at risk of being seriously injured, he thought of you, and your sweet face filling his mind comforted him and gave him strength to continue. Go ahead and tell himself that he would finish the mission so he could see you again. And now seeing you educate the children his heart melted, your patience and the love you gave to those kids made him feel things in his stomach, he remembered that someone had told him what that was called… butterflies? Yes, that was it, he felt butterflies and he couldn't help it.

"The effort he puts into the education of these children is beautiful"

The words came out of Adam's mouth like a torrent, he didn't want to say them but they escaped. You looked at him surprised, not really knowing how to react. When he realized it, he looked down with regret and blushed, placing his hands behind his back and kicking an imaginary stone with his foot like a child would. At this behavior you giggled

"Thank you so much Adam, it's nice that you say that"

Now you looked down and they both blushed like two college teenagers. Why did you behave in such a foolish way when you were around him? Couldn't you act like a normal person? And why did he have to look at you with puppy dog ​​eyes all the time? He was about to say something when a scream interrupted him.

"Adam come here! the roof of a house fell again!"

It was Kraglin, Adam looked at me as if apologizing while you just nodded smiling. He floated away and you went back to your room with your pulse racing.

🍀💮🍀💮

The next day you woke up and remembered that you would read something to the children today, so you grabbed a children's book from a shelf, "Little Red Riding Hood". You were sure that the children would find that story curious. You smiled and left your room smiling with the book under your arm and your backpack hanging from your shoulder. You saw out of the corner of your eye that Adam was helping Rocket with some boxes. He looked at you and greeted you, you greeted him back and kept walking. Adam felt in the clouds every time he saw your eyes, that's why with a lost look he didn't realize that he had a box in front of his feet and when he wanted to take a step forward he tripped and fell with his red cape throwing on his face ahead and covering his head. You stopped, startled by the noise when you saw Adam lying on the floor and covered your mouth laughing in embarrassment. Rocket who was next to Adam did it too, but less subtle.

"HAHAAH, what's wrong Adam, did you want to kiss the ground?-Rocket exclaimed throwing his head back while slapping his knee.

Adam stood up quickly as he pushed the cloak away from his face with a flushed face as he watched you walk away shaking your head and smiling, surely now you thought he was a fool. You went to the usual place and you met your faithful student and two other children.

"Hi miss (y/n)! They are Ciro and Eber, they are my friends. I told them to come to hear the story!"

The two boys seemed more shy than their eloquent friend but they smiled at me with kindness and devotion. You greeted them gently and began to tell the story. You stood next to them so they could admire the drawings on the pages and continue reading with you.

"Once upon a time there was a sweet girl who loved her mother and grandmother very much. He helped them in everything he could and since he was so good on his birthday his grandmother gave him a red hood. Because she liked it so much and went with her everywhere, soon everyone started calling her Little Red Riding Hood."

you would read and point to the images, they would pay attention to you with eyes wide open. You never considered yourself a good storyteller, to tell you the truth, you didn't like your voice, but these kids seemed to like it. As you were turning the pages, you were pointing to the words so that they could repeat them slowly. You emphasized each letter and separated them into syllables to make it easier. Also, if they didn't understand something or didn't know what was mentioned in the book, you patiently explained it to them. Adam from afar looked at you curious and enthusiastic again, when he had finished his work (and after some reproaches from Rocket) the sovereign came a little closer to where you were to better listen to what you were saying.

"...The wolf sent Little Red Riding Hood the longest way and arrived before her at granny's house. So she pretended to be the little girl and knocked on the door. Although what he did not know is that a hunter had seen him arrive. "Who is it?", answered the grandmother "It's me, Little Red Riding Hood," said the wolf. "How good my daughter. come on, come on" The wolf entered, pounced on the granny and ate her in one bite. She put on her nightgown and got into bed to wait for Little Red Riding Hood to arrive."

A gasp came out of the mouths of the little ones who looked at the book with surprise, you smiled delighted by their attention. Adam seemed surprised and amused as well.

"..When Little Red Riding Hood entered, she found Granny different, although she didn't quite know why. "Grandma, what big eyes you have!". "Yes, they are to see you better, my daughter". "Grandma, what big ears you have!". "Of course, they are to hear you better". "But granny, what bigger teeth you have!". "They are for eat you better!!" As soon as he said this, the wolf pounced on Little Red Riding Hood and ate her too. His stomach was so full that the wolf fell asleep"

With each part of the body that Little Red Riding Hood named, you pointed to the eyes, ears and mouths of the little ones who laughed with amusement. But when the part came where the wolf ate Little Red Riding Hood, you growled as if you were the animal from the story and you began to tickle them and the children kicked their feet laughing happily. Adam also chuckled softly with a tender look. Ulani, Ciro and Eber were impressed by the story and above all by the way you told it, you gesticulated a lot and you knew how to interpret each emotion as if you were a theater actress. Suddenly the youngest of the children became serious and with a trembling voice said

"I don't think I like this story, the wolf is very mean"

You looked at him like a loving mother and caressed his cheek

"But don't be sad, the story isn't over yet"

This is how you reached the end of the story when the hunter found the wolf and filled its belly with stones, throwing it into the river, thus saving Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother. The children clapped happily and cheered, while you laughed lovingly. And again you promised them another story for the next morning, since it seemed that they adored it. You went back to pick up your things and Adam came over to help you.

"What a sweet voice you have to tell stories…"

You were surprised by his presence so close and his words charged with love that you awkwardly dropped the book you had in your hand. You and Adam reached under the table to pick it up when your hand accidentally touched his. They stared at each other for a few seconds until you looked away feeling your cheeks burn. You got up from under the table but not before Adam covered the edge of the table with his big hand so you wouldn't hit your head, he smiled innocently at you and said "careful". You thanked him, still blushing, and brushed an unruly lock away from your face, placing it nervously behind your ear.

"It seems that the children love that you read them stories…and I do too"

This last he said in a low voice, hesitating whether to confess it or not. You were getting redder, was he…flirting with you? It just can't be.

"I really don't think I have that good a storytelling voice.."-you whispered lowering your head

Adam stared at you stunned with a frown in confusion, did you really think that of yourself? The sovereign was about to reply "Oh if you could see yourself as I see you…" but he bit his tongue and didn't say it.

Since he didn't know what to say, you were about to leave when in an attempt to keep you longer he grabbed your wrist. your breathing quickened a bit

"Is it true that tomorrow you will read them a story again?" You nodded "Then I think I'll be there too, I want to hear you"

You smile perplexed, you were supposed to teach children to read, not adults, but you thought it was a tender gesture.

🍀💮🍀💮

As you promised, now you were heading back with another book in your hand, "The Little Prince". But this time you were a little nervous because you knew that among the children would be Adam, who was not a child. When you arrived at Knowhere Square there were at least 15 children waiting for you. You swallowed scared, you had never read for so many people. You thought that there would only be three or four children like the previous days but this time it was a whole contingent and not only that, now instead of reading in a small and private room or at a table outside the cafeteria you would have to do it in the middle of the square where people passed. Your palms sweated.

Nebula walked over to your side and looked at the children who were already sitting on the floor in a circle.

"I think you have a great audience today"

But you were pale and serious and you were squeezing the book as if it were going to fly away, Nebula noticed it and placed a hand on your shoulder rubbing it.

"Don't worry, I know you'll do well. I've seen how you read to them, you really do well and they love you. I'll be around if you need anything"

You nodded gratefully and when he left you sat on the floor next to them, you opened the book and were about to read but the words got stuck in your throat, unconsciously you searched for Adam with your eyes and there he was at the bottom of the room. He rounded sitting like a Buddha with his elbows on his knees and his hands on his chin, looking at you and encouraging you to continue. His presence gave you the courage you needed, you began the story with more relief and encouragement.

"isn't she fantastic?"-Adam whispered with a lovesick face to a boy who was sitting next to him.

- - - - - -

[vintagepresley]

Hold The Camera, Baby.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Word Count: 4,615 words

Warnings: 18+ SMUTSMUTSMUT Daddy kink, rough sex, oral (f and m receiving), face riding, squirting, dirty talk, praise, shit just gets nasty, dominate elvis, tiny bit of degrading?? submissive reader, elvis brings out the camera, typical elvis stuff.

Author's Notes: Oh lord, this is something. Reader is the camerawoman filming Elvis On Tour and getting the best shots, heh. This shit gets nasty, dirty, and so hot. I just wanna thank my baby @erutluve for helping with this fic a random idea that came about. I hope you guys enjoy! Possible spelling errors.

You had been hired to work as the camerawoman on a new music documentary called Elvis On Tour, you practically jumped at the chance to work on this project being a huge Elvis fan yourself. You were over the moon that your skills with a camera got you noticed for this film. Before the start of his tour had begun you were introduced to Elvis who was even more charming in person. He was very sweet and super flirty with you calling you little nicknames like "honey, baby, or darlin'" It was hard to keep your composure about him sometimes. He wasn't use to a woman directing him and telling how things should be. But he always seemed to gain back the control from you, but telling you what he expected from you and sometimes telling you how he wanted you to dress. If you were going to work with him he liked his women to look a certain way, that included pretty little dresses, though it made it difficult to do your job in but you humored him and wore them anyway. But when all was said and done he would become very professional and suggest the best camera angles he felt worked best for him, but he allowed you to take some of your own liberties when it came to filming some of the shows. You did your best to try to not only filmed the way he wanted but also staying true to your own unique ideas.

It had been a few weeks since the tour had started and you had gotten some good footage with Elvis of course wanting to see everything you film and happily approving of it all. You had landed in San Antonio, Tx for the next show, and you were helping some of the film set up. You were excited because Elvis was going to be wearing one of your favorite jumpsuits the white pinwheel suit with a matching red scarf. For many reasons you loved the way this suit looked on him, the way the color pattern suited him, how his chest was on display. There was no denying that sometimes when you filmed him that you got a bit turned on and felt like one of the women in the crowd. He just had that control over everyone, no matter who you were. You were more than excited to film tonight's show. Things were getting crazier the closer the show was beginning to start and the crowds began to draw into the arena. You had one of the other cameramen film a lot of the backstage stuff of Elvis, which was always as interesting as his performance.

The show had finally begun and as he got through a few numbers like 'I Can't Stop Loving You' and 'Love Me Tender' he had transitioned into singing 'Suspicious Minds' which was always a treat because he never performed this song the same at his shows and he was always doing something off the wall or interacting with the crowds. You held your camera steady as you captured him as this almost godlike figure before you, getting close ups and different angles. He suddenly dropped to one knee on the stage and you stood right beneath him, pointing the camera at his crotch and then slowly zooming in closer as you captured him as he sang and wiped the sweat from his face with the towel, which caused you to nearly forget you were doing your job and he suddenly glanced down and was interrupted mid song by the sight of you beneath him, filming him in such an intimate angle. He made a face and tried to laugh it off as he got up and continued on with the song, but little did you know he was actually furious with you for getting an angle like that.

As the show went on you continued to get some good shots of him, once the show eventually came to an end and Elvis had been escorted out and the crowds began to dissipate you started packing up some of your equipment when you were suddenly approached by Joe Esposito. "Hey, Y/N, Elvis would like to speak with you for a moment." he said, knowing that Elvis was not happy. You raised an eyebrow at him. "Right now? I need to finish putting my stuff away." you answered. "He needs to speak with you right away. Come on." Joe says sternly. You furrowed your brow at his words. "Oh.. Oh okay.." you said softly, wondering what could be going on and you began to follow him back to Elvis' dressing room a bit nervous. Once he led you to the room Elvis was standing there with a pensive look on his face and you turned to watch Joe shutting the door to give the two of you privacy. You stared at Elvis who was still in his jumpsuit and dripping in sweat, you swallowed harshly at the sight of him.

"What's going on, Elvis? Did you wanna see some of the shots?" you asked curiously. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked angrily. "W-What do you mean?" you answered. "That damn angle you filmed of me during Suspicious Minds!" he yelled. "Oh, I-I thought it was a good shot.." you said softly, he'd never spoken to you like this before despite what creative differences you both sometimes had. "A good shot for who? You?! You got awfully close to my crotch.." he said as his voice grew a bit calmer, he was mad, but not as mad as you thought he was. "I.. I wasn't.. I didn't.." you stumbled over your words unsure of what to say and you felt your face go flush, he noticed this immedately. "If you wanted to film me in provocative positions you could've just asked..." he teased. "I... What? I would never!" you said defensively. He smirked at you. "Don't think I haven't noticed a few similar shots like that in your work. Y'know, I'm pretty good with a camera myself. I film just the things you seem to want.." he said with a grin.

You furrowed your brow trying to understand what he was hinting at. "I don't know what you mean, Elvis.." you said quietly. He chuckled softly and shook his head as he walked over to his things fishing out the camera that he aways brought with him and a few photos he had taken of a few girls. "C'mere, maybe this will help you understand." he said with a grin. You slowly walked over to him and he laid out a few pictures of naked women that he took personally. You raised an eyebrow at him, not knowing what to say. "I've got some videos too." he said quietly. "Elvis, I.. I don't film stuff like this, you've got me all wrong." you mumbled. "Hm, I can't help but feel like you're lyin' to me, baby. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.." he murmured, reaching over to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You got shy again, blushing from his words and his touch. "I won't tell if you have.. I think it's hot.." he grinned. You stared back up at him as you were silent for a moment. "I mean... I guess, I have.. You're a good looking guy." you said with a shrug.

"Hm, well why don't we have some fun? I'll give ya something to really be proud of." he teased as he walked over to the couch that sat in his room and plopped down onto it his legs spreading wide open as he stared at you with those sleepy blue eyes of his that stared into your soul. You stood there staring at him not knowing how to respond. "W-What do you want me to do?" you asked. "I want you to film me.. Film me fucking you senseless." he said so forward with a smirk. Your eyes widen at his words, though you had daydreams of what it would be like to fuck Elvis, you'd never thought it would happen and you didn't know how to respond. "I..." you gulped. "Get over here, Y/N." he demanded. You blinked and slowly stepped toward him until you were stand before him. "Don't give me that innocent act, honey. I know you want this.. Now strip." he barked.

The way he barked orders at you turned you on and you didn't want to deny him, this was rare opportunity to be with Elvis in this way, you never thought it'd happen to you. You nodded at his words and slowly began to unzip the side of your dress and carefully pulling it down your body, he watched with delight as his eyes gazed over your body. Once your dress hit the floor you stood there in your bra and panties nervously. "Did I say stop?" he questioned, gesturing for you to take everything off. He sat his camera on the arm of the couch as he reached down to unzip the front of his suit to give his cock some room to breath as he grew hard watching you slowly unhooking your bra and letting it fall, revealing your breasts to him and you felt a chill run down your spine from the cold air of the room hitting your nipples that harden right before him. He licked over his lips as he slide his hand down his suit, grasping his cock in his hand and stroking it slowly as his eyes stared at your panties that you shimmed out of and now you were completely exposed to him, covering yourself a bit.

"Fuck.. You're beautiful. I've been imagining what you looked like without clothes on." he said with a wink as he pulled his fully hard cock out and your eyes widen at the sight of him, causing you to chew at the inside of your cheek. You blushed as you continued to try to cover yourself, a bit shy in front of him now. "C'mere.." he mumbled, patting his lap and then he picked the camera back up. You stepped closer to him, climbing onto his lap carefully your thighs resting on either side of him as you settled yourself down onto his lap, feeling his throbbing cock pressed right up against your pussy that ached and became wet at the very feeling of him, a soft groan escaping from the back of his throat. He held the camera toward you. "Hold the camera, baby.. You're gonna be daddy's little filmmaker for this.." he hummed. You nodded at his words, carefully taking his camera into your hands, pressing the on button and watching the solid green light glow. He placed his hands over yours, showing you how he wanted you to hold it and then switching the record button on for you and now the green light turned to red and blinked slowly indicating that it was now recording.

He leaned forward pressing his soft pouty lips to your collarbone, you held the camera pointed toward him, getting a close up shot of him kissing your neck and sucking on your dewy skin and then kissing up to your lips, kissing you deeply and he stared at the camera from the corner of his eye making sure you were getting all close up shots. A soft noise emitting from your lips against his when you felt his hands squeezing, groping and kneading your breasts, his fingertips play with your sensitive nipples and he grabbed your hand that held the camera and pointed it down so you captured the way he played with your breasts, that was slowly was pushing you over the edge and he pulled back from your lips, pressing his tongue firmly against your neck and dragging his tongue down to your breasts, moving over to take your left breast into his mouth, wrapping his lips around your nipple and sucking so greedily on the sensitive bud, dragging his tongue back and forth. A small gasp escaping your lips at the desirable feeling. His mouth was so wet and warm that as he sucked his saliva dripped down your breast and he finally popped it out of his mouth and moved over to the right.

Taking your harden nipple deep into his mouth and he sucked so harshly on it that it caused you to hiss at the wild feeling, his suckling sounds growing louder as his mouth tugged at your nipple all the while you filmed it all, trying to keep your hand steady as you moaned quietly. When he released your nipple both of your breasts were glistening in his saliva, you chewed on your bottom lip whimpering softly, wanting more now. He smirked at you and he grabbed your hand making you get shots of your breasts that he nearly sucked raw. "Mm, ready for the next scene, darlin'?" you mumbled. "Y-Yes.." you mewled. He suddenly was switching positions and he grabbed your waist as he lifted you up with him and he laid down on the couch with you right on top of him, feeling his cock press firmly against your pussy again and you angled the camera down on him and he leaned up pressing soft and wet kisses against your abdomen before he laid back again, staring up at you.

You stared down at his beautiful sweaty face and a smirk danced across his lips. "Get up and sit on my face, baby.." he demanded. You felt your pussy ache and clench at his very words, you nodded eagerly and climbed up his body until your thighs were resting on either side of his face and your pussy dripping in your slick hovered right over his face, he beamed at the beautiful sight before, so hungry to taste you, the camera getting it all. You carefully lowered yourself onto his face and you could feel his sweat smearing onto your inner thighs, he let out a soft groan as you buried him in your pussy, your body trembled above him and your breathing growing heavy. You felt his tongue drag across your slit, lapping up the soppy mess that formed between your legs, then he parted your lips with his tongue burrowing it between your folds and firmly pressing it against your swollen and sensitive clit, flicking his tongue against it playfully, which only caused your body to jolt from the feeling.

You almost dropped the camera on him before quickly steading your hand and grasping onto the arm of the couch with the other as you felt his tongue glide back down and circle around your tight little hole, he then plunged his tongue deep inside of you, feeling your walls tight around him and he grabbed your hips, pressing you down against him so he could bury his tongue deep inside your pussy as he began to fuck it, slowly moving your hips against him, making your ride his face, the sweet nectar that leaked out of you coating his face and mixing with his sweat. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back in pleasure as you did the best you could to continue to film, your hand clutching tighter onto the couch, the vibration of his groans against you only furthered the intense pleasure you felt. Your thighs tightening around his head. His hands gripping your ass tight in his big strong, ring covered hands, the coldness from the metal stinging your ass as you began to take some control and riding his tongue and grinding your pussy firmly against him, he loved it as he forced you down even more wanting you to suffocate him.

As you rode his face you began to film yourself grabbing and squeeze at your own breasts and getting close up shots of you moaning into the camera, giving him quite the show for when he goes back to watch it. His hands moved down to grip your thighs and gave them a rough slap and you squealed softly between your loud moans. You began to whine softly as your clit brushed up against his nose each time you humped his face, it felt so good that you were sure to cum if he kept this up. He steadied your movements as he started to bounce you on his face, his tongue sliding in and out each time you came crashing down onto his face, your eyes rolling back as you heaved and panted. "El..." you mewled, unable to form words. "Da... Daddy.. Y-You're gonna make me cum..." you cried. The sound of your words delighted him so much so that he continued with his little game and he bounced you faster on his face, forcing his tongue in deep, sliding one of his hands back over your ass and giving it rough spanks, his rings making it painful, but it pushed you further into your orgasm that grew closer and then he forced you to sit still on his face, his tongue in deep as he wiggled it around inside of you, his nose hitting against your clit hard.

That's when you couldn't hold on any longer, all the pleasure that had built up was just too much to handle that your panting grew louder that it almost sounded like hisses as it escaped between your crying whimpers and your body jolted above him as you orgasmed and you cum came pouring onto his face, he groaned loudly trying to lap it lap it up like a man starved of hunger, your body twitching above him as you whimpered his name, riding out your orgasm on his face as droplets of your cum continued to leak onto his face until he finally lifted you up in his arms and now he was switching positions again, throwing you against the cushions of the couch so that you were lying on your back, the camera held tightly in your hands. You were still shaken up from your orgasm and you stared up at his messy face that dripped in your sweet juices and he licked up most it off his lips and then took the scarf that was still wrapped around his neck and wiped some of his face clean. "Goddamn that pussy tastes amazing.." he said softly with a smirk.

He suddenly snatched the camera from your hands as he flipped you over onto your stomach roughly and you squealed from his roughness, he grabbed your hips arching them up so that your ass was in the air, and he forced your upper body down, keeping your face pressed against the couch as he spanked your already sore ass once again, filming the exposed position you were in as his hand gently ran over your ass and he smirked to himself as he brought the camera down to capture your dripping pussy on film, running two of his fingers between your folds and opening you up to show to the camera, you moaned softly, wanting to close your thighs around his hand but he forced your legs opened wider for him as he filmed close up of your pussy, his fingers playing in your slick and cum that leaked from you, you whimpered desperately, feeling so empty. "Fuck.. This pussy is so beautiful.. It's so wet and messy for daddy.. Just touching you is getting you wetter." he mewled.

His fingers burrowed deep in your soppy cunt, he loved the way it responded to him. "Mm, I bet it's just achin' to have my cock inside.. isn't it, little one?" he cooed. You whimpered cutely. "Yes... P-Please, daddy..." you begged. He grinned at your words, slapping his fingers against your pussy, watching it tremble before him. "Let's see if pounding this pussy will make ya cum again..." he whispered. Holding the camera firmly in his right hand as he grabbed your hips with his left keeping you steady as he then reached down to grasp his cock and he glided it across your messy little pussy, getting it nice and wet with your juices and then without warning, he shoved every inch of his cock deep inside of your sensitive, throbbing tight hole, feeling you tighten around him as you sucked him in. You cried out his name feeling your body shake beneath him as you clawed at the cushions beneath you. He groaned softly watching how your pussy took his cock so well and to loosen you up around him he forcefully began to thrust himself inside you, filming his cock sliding in and out of you and watching how his cock glistened in your nectar.

"Fu-Fuck.. Daddy.." you moaned out loudly, his hips slapping against your ass as he fucked you, gripping onto your waist with his left hand as he forced you back against him, moving you in rhythm with his movements, the both of you moaning loudly together and his name leaving your lips like they were your mantra as his thrust became more rough, almost violent, his cock slamming against your walls, that tears flowed from your eyes, but you loved every minute of the way he used you, fucked you, all the while capturing every dirty little moment on film. Your pussy was making such a mess on his suit as you bounced back and forth on his cock, he made you so wet that your slick dripped down your thighs. He was determined to fuck you until there was nothing left. You couldn't stop the tears that streamed down your face, you were so overstimulated and in need of cumming once again that your body couldn't handle it because of how sensitive he made you, but his swift rough movements didn't stop, the slapping sounds growing louder as he plunged deeper inside of you. The pain was so pleasurable that his name left your lips in a crying whimper.

"Mm.. El... E-Elvis.. Y-You're gonna make me cum a-again.. it h-hurts.." you cried out. He was satisfied with the way he broke you down and had you begging, crying, moaning for him, and seeing how desperate you were to cum once again. "Cum all over daddy's cock, little girl.." he mewled, he too was growing close to cumming but he was doing everything he could to hold back because he had other plans for how you would receive his cum. The sound of his words pushed you over the edge and you shut your eyes tight, your moans shaky and whiny as they left your mouth and your body numb and twitching beneath him as your pussy clenched tight around his cock and your second orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave completely shocking your body as you not only came on his but you squirted as well, which was a shock for him, he grinned happily at the messy sight you made on him, the couch and yourself.

He thought for a moment that he would lose his composure and cum inside of you, but he pulled his cock out before allowing that to happen and the moment he pulled out your exhausted used body collapsed onto the couch, you could hardly move from the way he just made you feel, you tried to catch your breath as you felt him get up and he grabbed a hold of your arm roughly, dragging you off the couch and pulling you with him as he went to sit in the chair that sat opposite of the couch, you whined from his roughness, pouting a bit. Once he was sat down he pushed you onto the cold dirty floor and you stared up at him as you watched his legs spread open and he beckoned you, wanting you to suck his cock. You sat up on your knees for him. "Open that pretty mouth for me, baby." he hummed. You obeyed opening your mouth and he grasped his cock in his hand, shoving it right into your mouth, you gagged softly when he hit the back of your throat, he grabbed a handful of your hair, bobbing your head up and down as he thrusted his hips forward, fucking your mouth, saliva already pooling out of your mouth, but his cock was only in your mouth for a brief moment as his moans came out airy, he was so close to cumming that he had popped his cock out of your mouth, exhaling sharply and he handed the camera to you. You grasped it in your shaky little hands.

"You love this angle so much now you can film me jerking off for ya from it." he said with a smirk. You nodded your head slowly at his words. "Y-Yes, daddy.." you whispered. He grinned at your obedience and he suddenly lifted one of his legs ups and you felt the bottom of his shoe pressed firmly against your right thigh, nudging you with it. "Lay down." he said sternly. You swallowed harshly, nodding and as you went to lay on your stomach, holding the camera up and it got close up on his throbbing cock that was aching to be drained. You watched through the camera as he started to stroke and pump his slippery cock that was a mess with all your fluids, the squelching sounds loud each stroke he made, it only turned you on as you watched with delight beneath him as his big, strong hand grasped his veiny wet cock, pumping it faster and you could hear his moans growing gradually louder and his breathing heavy, his hips twitching and stirring as his orgasm was approaching, his eyes staring down at your naked body as it laid on the cold concrete floor, the sight only turning him on more and his body tensed as his orgasm washed over him and one last loud groan escaping from the back of his throat. Your eyes widen as you watched his cock twitch and you watched as his cum came spirting out and landing on the lens of the camera, your face.

It had been some time since he had sex so he had so much cum to give you that the lens of the camera was now painted white and your face was a mess and you licked your lips tasting the saltiness of his cum happily. Once he was finished he collapsed against the chair, catching his breath as he stared down at you. "You look even more beautiful covered in my cum.." he teased and then he reached down for the camera. Your body numb and wobbly as you sat up handing it to him. He shut it off and sat it on the table beside him, his cum leaking from the expensive equipment. "C'mere, baby." he mumbled as he tried his best to help you up, you climbed into his lap, sitting down on his twitching cock and his soaked jumpsuit. The two of you a filthy mess from each other's bodily fluids. He pulled you near him, his lips crashing against your cum covered lips, kissing your deeply, sloppily, the both of you tasting his cum as you kissed and his face now being covered in his own fluids that dripped from your face.

"Mm... We may just have to make this a routine thing after the shows." he mumbled on your lips with a soft chuckle. You bit down on your bottom lip, letting out a soft giggle. "Oh, you think I may have the talent to film your dirty little films?" you laughed. He smirked at your words. "As long as I'm your star, baby.." he whispered as his lips crashed back against your own.

*

Tagging: @erutluve @idk3453 @powerofelvis @peaceloveelvis @feverkitten @infatuatedharleys @lanadelreyismyonlyreligion @ilovehobi101 @galaxygirl453 @apprilpie @samfangirls @notstefaniepresley @dkayfixates @pennyroyalcreep @elvisgirl35 @ccab @re3kin @vintageshanny @beatlebabe1996 @lindszeppelin @godlypresley @elvisdoll @presleyturner @presleybewbie @prayerstopresley @zephyrahh @literally-just-elvis-fics

Sorry if I missed anyone!!

[sakurapika]

What are your all-time favorite outfits from Twisted Wonderland?

Hello @letterstoear, thank you for ask! I've had a lot of fun making this post, and I'm so sorry that it took forever to answer!

Every time I was certain I had my list narrowed down, I remembered another outfit I really liked. (Also, I'm a little bit biased, as you will see...haha). This time, I focused on event outfits to make it easier for myself. Maybe in the future I'll post my "reviews" on dorm uniforms or Halloween costumes.

I am always blown away by the the little details that Yana Toboso and the rest of the design team have added to each of characters' outfits, because they give some interesting insight to their personalities and backgrounds.

Without further ado, let's discuss some outfits! (Please note that there are spoilers for upcoming events from the JP server, as well as some groovy arts!)

My Favorite Twisted Wonderland Outfits

10. Floyd's Outdoor Wear (Vargas Camp)

Most of the outfits on my list are on the extravagant side. I recently bought a volume of Black Butler, where there was a note about how Yana Toboso loves to draw clothing, and it truly shows.

But in contrast to seeing our beloved characters in over-the-top costumes, it's refreshing to see them wearing casual outfits once in a while as well and see their individual, everyday styles.

I'll admit that I haven't played any of the Vargas Camp events, and have a grand total of zero (0) cards from this series. I'm not sure why; I always miss the event's runtime for some reason.

Still, I've always loved Floyd's little sling bag with the eel keychain, as well as the teal visor. The bright colors stand out and are appealing.

The whole outfit looks like something you could get from a store like Uniqlo, and sometimes it is nice to have that sort of realism in a magical game. He looks like an ordinary teenager I could find on the street. Except...if I did find Floyd on the street, I'd be running in the other direction. But that's not the main idea here.

9. Azul's Glorious Masquerade Outfit

At first, I sort of forgot that this SSR existed. When the PV for Glorious Masquerade came out, I was more focused on Malleus.

However, eventually, many people began to cosplay as GloMas Azul, and they all looked so amazing. I began to appreciate the outfit more after seeing people pose and dance in it. Azul also tends to have some of the best fanart, and fans have spared no expense when drawing him wearing this.

My favorite part of the outfit is his coat. I like the silhouette it creates with a high-waist belt, and the long coattails that resemble tentacles. The ruffles on his trousers are cute, too. I would buy a pair if I could. Unfortunately, it's hard to see these details on his in-game sprite.

As for his accessories, the pearls are so dramatic (and so very Azul). His round glasses are also cute, I hope he wears them again!

8. Idia's Suitor Suit

One look at Idia's Ghost Marriage outfit, and you can really tell that it was designed by Yana Toboso. His gloves, coat, and cravat make him look like he's in the Victorian Era. Also, doesn't he look sort of like Grelle from Black Butler?

Speaking of Grelle, Idia's outfit is meant to look more like funeral attire, between the long, black coat and the lilies pinned to his shoulder. There are also skulls hidden throughout his outfit, such as on his jacket chain and cufflinks. I was still new to TWST at the time, so I just thought that Idia liked gothic clothing. I didn't realize he was (at least in his mind) attending his own funeral!

Let's not forget his new hairstyle! This is one of Idia's first SSRs if I remember correctly, so it was exciting to see him with a ponytail.

My love for this outfit also comes from my love for the story associated with it. Fans have pointed out that Idia's "arranged marriage" with Eliza parallels the myth of Hades and Persephone. The design team and Yana were so clever for this.

I don't have this card, either, but I hope to pick him up one day!

7. Ortho's Fairy Gear

The Shroud brothers are luckyーthey are probably two of the characters with the most SSRs in the game.

That being said, we all have to agree that Ortho's fairy gear is one of the most unique and avant-garde cards in the game.

I really enjoy the white and gold color scheme in this event. His color-changing wings are stunning, and the piece covering his eyes makes him look very mysterious.

I thought this card was cool when I first saw it, but then I learned that Ortho's outfit and hair can turn pink, which is even better.

Every time I see his "pointe shoes," it makes me imagine Ortho and Idia trying to learn how to dance together in Idia's room, and Idia obsessively studying ballet costumes for his younger brother.

Yet again, I don't have this card, but my best friend does! At least I can admire him from her phone...

6. Silver's Rabbit Wear

There is no way that this outfit is just an R card! When this card was first advertised in one of the JR rail train stations, the pictures showed this card with Deuce's hometown in the background instead of the standard Diasomnia R background, so I thought that this card would at least be an SR. (Although I can't complain so much, because that means it's free!)

Silver is so princely. I am convinced that he can look good in anything. I am fond of pastel colors, and the pink/blue color scheme suits him, as the TWST version of Aurora. The bows may be silly, but I find them adorable.

Compared to the other boys in this event, Silver's outfit looks a little more like a soldier's (albeit a toy soldier's or a nutcracker's), which is a cool touch.

5. Deuce's Rabbit Wear

Deuce's hometown event was truly one of my favorite events that came out in the JP sever last year. Not only were some of my most favorite characters there, but they were dressed up in the most whimsical outfits possible. (And we got to meet Deuce's motherーshe's the coolest!)

Since Deuce is the main character of this event, his outfit bears the most resemblance to the white rabbit's in most classic illustrations, complete with a bow tie, top hat, and, of course, his pocket watch. His outfit has a blue color scheme. Like Azul in GloMas, Deuce also wears round glasses in his groovy art. Overall, it looks like the sweet ouji style, although I'm not very familiar with this sub-fashion. If anyone who is reading this has studied/worn this style of fashion, please let me know!

I used to play Love Nikki and Shining Nikki (two fashion-themed gacha games), which also featured lolita dresses inspired by Alice in Wonderland characters. For this reason, Deuce's outfit in particular feels very nostalgic to me.

4. Lilia's Right General Armor

Here's another departure from the cute pastel outfits...

Sleeping Beauty was one of my favorite Disney movies as a child. I always remembered Maleficent's "goons" as short, silly little creatures wearing simple green tunics.

So how on earth did we get to Right General Lilia Vanrouge?!

Seriously, I'm just stunned by how the artists looked at the source material and created something so radically, yet wonderfully, different.

I'm curious about the green stones (jades?) on his outfit--around his waist, there are several pieces attached to tassels, and he has two strapped to his right leg. The material matches the stone used for his weapon. Maybe it represents his status in Briar Valley. If you check his (unposed) sprite, you can also see that he is wearing something around his waist that looks like folded bat wings.

Like everyone else, I'm obsessed with his long hairーit makes him look so formidable, especially with that hood. My friends and I like to joke that his ponytail makes him look like a character in a Chinese martial arts drama.

Again, the story associated with this card made me love it even more. Few books have made me cry as much as Book 7 of TWST.

3. Malleus' Glorious Masquerade Outfit

While Sleeping Beauty was my favorite movie as a young child, when I got older, I began to love The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It was only natural for this outfit to be among my favorites for this reason.

There are so many details here. The feathered hat. The sheer sleeves. The golden embroidery. The split cape. It's honestly overwhelming to take in at once.

I can say that my favorite detail is his green earrings. They really bring out his eye color, and the PV made them so sparkly.

In addition, everyone I've ever seen who has cosplayed as GloMas Malleus or has drawn fanart of him has increased my appreciation of this outfit.

[Now for some very spoiler-y stuff] The fact that this event came just before the release of Chapter 7 is worth noting. Doesn't it feel a bit tragic that just before Malleus' overblot, we have a chance to see him wearing an outfit that makes him look especially like his mother, having fun and being the star at the masquerade? And what about the feathers on his shouldersーdo they hint at another side of his family? There's so much foreshadowing and mystery going on, and nothing is more suitable for the occasion than masquerade attire.

2. Kalim's New Year Attire

I've already rambled about how sentimental this outfit is to me in a previous post, but in summary: New Year is my favorite holiday, and the New Year's Sale event was the first event I "seriously" participated in. Kalim looks excessively cute and festive in his kimono, and every time I see this card, I feel nostalgic and in the holiday mood.

1. (Tied) Epel's Applepom Outfit and Riddle's Beach Outfit

I'm really sorry, Epel and Riddle are my favorite characters, and in the end, I refuse to chose between them. They're like my younger brothers! I try to collect all of their cards, so I pay attention to their outfits the most, and picking only one outfit for each character was a challenge in itself.

My favorite part of Epel's Applepom outfit is his cloak. It looks so fluffy and warm. When you set him as your home screen character, you also have the option to "swap looks" and see his outfit without the cloak--the apple embroidery on the rest of his outfit is very detailed. Many fans have mentioned that the outfits people wear in Harveston resemble traditional Scandinavian clothing, which is really cool!

The little apple slices on his cap are everything.

And I'm always happy to see characters in different hairstyles, such as Epel's little ponytail.

One of my headcanons is that you're allowed to call Epel cute, but only when he wears this specific outfit, because he takes it as a complement to his culture.

As for Riddle, we're all so used to seeing him wearing formal suits. It's so nice to see him loosening up for once. He looks so happy, now that he has the chance to see the ocean for the first time!

I also happened to be on vacation at the beach around the time this event came out, so it felt like a gift.

I have to laugh a little, because there are so many flowers on his outfit. Even Jack pointed it out in the story. But he looks so cute!

I suppose we have to discuss the elephant in the room. My friend saw it before me, so she spammed me with messages along the lines of "RIDDLE IS WEARING A CROP TOP!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!" and I naturally thought she was pranking me. But lo and behold, it's the truth. I like to headcanon that among the rest of the cast in this event, everyone has made an unspoken mutual agreement not to mention it. This Victorian child has already been through enough, and not a word must reach Mrs. Rosehearts.

Thank you once again for the ask! For anyone who read all of this, what do you think about these outfits, and which ones in the game are your favorite?

[anonymousdisco]

How’d I get Isikaid into Yandere Obey me Chapter Two: Planning

(Y/N) POV:

    As I walked my new screen companion followed me around as I finished figuring out where everything was in my room. “So… can anyone else see you? Do you even… have a name?” I asked curiosity brimming up as I adjusted to my new life here.

    The screen brightened as if happy to be asked and explained, “No one can see me except for you, User! Or hear me for that matter. But if you think loud enough I can hear your thoughts, only if you want me to of course. And I don’t have a name yet till you give me one.” It hovered around me sporadically clearly wanting a name now.

    “Um… You seem hyper and fast so I guess I’ll you Bullet.” I reason wanting to laugh as it glows slightly red clearly its way of showing upset emotion. “I’m just kidding your names Glitch cause you’re going to make me overpowered in this plot like a glitch does in a game.” The redness of the screen dims to a pink and I take this as it being shy and happy. “Now what should I wear…? I want to seem innocent, but I don’t want to be too obvious.”

    “How about wearing the trending style in Devildom, but a bit muted. School uniforms allow a lot of customization here. And no one really pays attention to you yet so you can make it whatever you want and no one will notice the difference.” Glitch advised me.

    “That’s smart lil glitchy.” I grab the uniform and quickly make my adjustments. I add fishnets in a subtle gray color with slight tears in them, and added a black belt with studs to the middle section. I look at the uniform itself and tilt the student council band disliking how perfect and straight it looked before. I shortened the skirt half an inch to make my legs look longer, and add a leather purse I can hang over my shoulder to carry my school supplies. I as a finishing touch add a pair of thigh highs with heels in leather to match the purse with slight studs to mimic the belts style. Nodding to myself in satisfaction I do a light makeup look with a brown muted smoky eye and a small winged black eyeliner. Finishing it all up with a simple lipstick in my most favorable shade to match my skin tone. To nod at the innocent aura I wanted I added pictails with some of the hair down framing my face and making me look adorable rather than edgy.

    Glitch hovered in front of me. “Your good at this.”

    “Thanks glitch. I use to have to adjust my clothing constantly since my parents didn’t drench me with money like they did my sister. This time though I’ll have seven dear big brothers to spoil me rotten by the time I’m done.” I smirk feeling mischievous. It was my time to shine now. “But how to make the hardest one fall. Mr. I have pride won’t be easy to make fall. I’m still his sister at the end of the day though, and he does have an overprotective attitude to his siblings.” I feel excited as my plan comes together. “All I need to do is seem lonely and isolated in a way that leads me to be in a situation where I’m physically injured in what an overprotective big brother would find life threatening. A broken arm, and maybe a rib should do the trick!”

    Glitch glows gray and vibrates nervously. “Your going to get injured?!”

    “In the backstory you mentioned bullies. And what good are bullies for if you can’t use them for manipulation. This way I get rid of the bullies, Lucifer falls the first step, and all my other new big brothers follow suit after seeing poor innocent me hurt because of their lack of care. It’ll be easy, but first I have to get some notice on the student council, and I have the perfect plan for that!” 

    I rush over to my desk before school starts and fill out an envelope of an anonymous school suggestion form and make sure it looks slightly different from the rest. If the timeline was right then this would be perfect. I go to school getting there early and wait in the student council room patiently filling out forms and paperwork.

Diavolo’s POV:

    I enter the student council room in a hurry a bit behind since I tried to escape working today, but couldn’t under Barbatos’s careful watch. I look into the room shocked someone was already there as I see someone. Who was that girl again…? (Wrong name similar to yours)? Perhaps (other wrong name)? “Good morning…” I pause awkwardly given I can’t remember her name. We had never been alone before so I never really paid attention to her much.

    “(Y/N). Good morning, Lord Diavolo. I hope you had an uneventful morning.” She smiled pleasantly seeming to be unoffended by my lack of recall.

    She goes back to what she was doing and I notice it was the daily morning paperwork. She was… sorting it in level of importance on everyone’s desk, as well as compiling notes of the more complex areas. “I thought… Barbatos did that.”

    She seemed a bit shy and embarrassed.  “I do actually…. It’s one of the few ways my help isn’t… viewed as unnecessary.” She quickly finished everything before scanning it all a final time. “I’m done so I’m going to go to the library, unless you need me for anything?”

   “I’m alright. Have fun studying.” I watched her leave. There was something about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it but she seemed sweet and quiet. I felt my face heat up as I thought of her (H/L) (H/C) in those cute lil pictails. Her eyes though… were a deep lonely (E/C). They felt reminiscent of my own loneliness. Maybe… she too needed a friend.

    “Barbatos.” He appeared before me quietly. “Follow her around today. Figure out why she so… shy and lonely looking. She’s too lovely and cute to be allowed to stay so sad. I want the reason eliminated.” I didn’t know why I felt such sudden rage at the thought of her sadness, but I wanted the reason dead and gone.

    Barbatos bowed. “Yes, young master Diavolo.”

[thebottomfromhell]

Completely self-indulgent but I feel like human! Gyokko would treat demon! reader more like a pet than a lover. Like collar and leash (maybe even a shock collar, he seems like the person), command words, and only giving his "love" as a reward for good behavior. Probably feeds his demon pet his own blood and flesh to keep reader loyal since to reader "it's the best thing he's ever tasted"

Damn he would! He is definetely going to own the non-human creature that thirsts him, so why not discipline it properly? Rewards and punishment are in order, and it's not like he is hurting a person/jk.

Now, I am very, VERY, VERY sorry of how late this came. Yes, I am alive. I had a writting block that, with some evaluations and works, drove me out of writting and I didn't know how to come back. Now I am back at writting, I hope this works as a new page.

Reverse AU Gyokko doms GN Demon Reader with pet play

Warnings: Sexual content, Cannibalism, Blood Play, Collaring, Pet Play, Piquerism, BDSM, Degradation kink, Oral sex, Masturbation and, Threat of violence.

You are aware of how Gyokko sees you. You aren't human, not anymore, and for him, that's enough to hurt, to claim, to discart, to break. Truth be told, he holds humans to that same standard, but even with his Hashira status he wouldn't get away with it, be can barely get away with the amount of Taugokus he had and died. Some because he didn't aid them, some because he deemed it a mercy, and some because he deemed the best soruce of action. Besides the other Hashira, who would actually kill him if he tried, and his master, nobody is safe from him.

He is an artist, he is a killer, creator and destroyer. Maybe that is what you like about him, besides his hability to inflict pain without regret. You wonder, how would he be as a demon? Would he be special? Able to create? Demons are not meant to be creators, with the exception of their origin, their own creator, that one that spread and mutates living beings to his image. You tremble at the idea, or maybe is at the pain of having needles in your back. It tickles, it hurst, it activates the common instinct of fight, chase. That rush of adrenaline that makes your body tense, heart beat fast, and blood heat up your body. It's like fighting, like eating, it satiates, at the same time it hurts with a itch of desire for more. "Gyo... Gyokko...." the there is a needle piercing your tongue, forcing you to stick it put of your mouth.

"I don't remember giving you permission to speak." He says, legs crossed in a seat as he has you on your knees in front of him. He looks annoyed, might as well be, but there is a glow in his eyes, one that makes you able to tell. He is enjoying it. "Honestly, you are no better that an untrained dog. Messy and desobedient. Maybe I should treat you like one, and no bad dog is going to get any reward from me." He says pretending to be exasperated as he grabs your chin and takes off all the needles in your face, making blood leak from the holes. They were poisoned with wysteria, so the wounds take more than usual to heal, letting the Hashira tease the edges of the holes spread.

His touch is precise as he examines you, those hands go gently from your face to your neck and give a squeeze. You don't really need to breath, but that doesn't stop your head from feeling lighter. He let's go after a moment, leaving panting to check his materials. There are some ribbons of different colors, he picks one of the color of your eyes with blood red patterns and makes a bow tie around your neck. It's not as tight as his hands, those even left marks that alreade healed, but it's still oppressive, controling. You adore it.

"Now this suits you a lot." You feel owned and decorated, adored in some twisted way, and all the touches, the adrenaline... you can feel it down there, you are getting excited. Aroused. "Look at you, getting all messy and hot. If you want any relief you will have to beg." And you do. "Please..." There is little more than that you can say, you can do, but you beg. Gyokko barely looks at you while you are at it, looking unimpressed, leaving you untouched, desesperate. So you beg more, thirst and desire building up inside you, but you keep begging. You beg until you start crying and drooling of how much you want it, embarassed. You know it's pathetic, you know that you should take a bite, take what you want. You are tempted to do so.

"Y/N." He sees you before smirking in an ugly smile full of anticipation, with a sadistic twist before pulling the "collar" he just put on your neck, forcing proximity. "That's not good enough~" Not good enough... not goo-... but why? What do you have to do? Your scrotch is becoming uncomfortable, you just need some friction, some touch. You want to touch yourself, you want Gyokko to touch, you and his words are as if you just got rejected. You want to cry at that, you have no idea why as your body twitches, and he is just breathing against your face and that hot air against your skin warms up so nice you want it everywhere and- "Let's make you earn your release, pet." There was something in the tone of that las word, as if it was an insult, a curse, a slur, offenssive and fueled with poison, demeaning. And yet...

It turns you on as you hear him unzipping his pants, taking off the belt with one hand as he keeps eye contact with you, taking them off in order to be nore comfortable once he manspread in his sit before you, letting your now loosen up collar go last second, making you trip, face ending inches from his scrotch. You can see his cock, only half hard, tip pink, a pale skin, tender flesh without a single hair, definetely waxed, that you just want in in your mouth along with those thick trained thighs. You can feel the saliva acumulating in your mouth, drooling, and the scent doesn't make in any better. Suddenly a hand in the back of you head forces to look up at the smug face. "Earn your treat, make me cum and I will consider letting you bite. Doesn't it sound fair?" You nod before letting him finish, you don't care, you just want him in your mouth, your fangs ache for it and your tongue is suddenly too big to stay inside the cavity comfortably. Another pull, harder, painful enough to make you groan, or was it a moan? "But... bite me without permission and I will take your eyes, nipples, fingers and tongue for you to eat, mutt. Be a good puppy and please your master, or earn a punishment as a bad dog."

And you do, you try, taking his lenght inside your mouth. Your tongue and saliva don't know what to do with the limited space, and your teeth touch the base as it thrust inside, but careful enough to not hurt Gyokko. He smiles at that sense of danger, shivering as he grabs tightly into his needles, ready to stab you. You can smell the scent wysteria mixed with Gyokko's genitals, wet and hot. You start moving your head, trembling when you feel a needle behind your skull. Maybe it's a warning, or maybe he just wanted to do it, as he moans without any shame. Your can feel a sting, the uncomfortable wetness and heat in between your legs, grow even more as you move one of your hand to rub yourself, feeling your arousal against your clothes. You keep letting Gyokko, that started to grab and tight up the ribbon in your neck, fuck your face and use your mouth as he pleases, moving his ass against the chair. "Mngh~ yes. Just like that~."

The hashira pulls you off his dick after a whiles, even if he hasn't released yet. "Be creative, pet~." You really can't, you need more, and you can't really think straight enough to figure anything particular up. So you keep licking his erection, sucking his thighs, wishing to sink your fangs into them, kissing his balls and the pinkish hole peaking under them. Your saliva mixes with Gyokko's sweat, salty in your tongue, and you eat him up, wishing you could use your teeth. The human moans, arches his back, praises you when he likes what you do and pulls you off when he doesn't, until he cums all over you with your lips basically knotted in his testicles. It's messy, almost disgusting, but a part of your brain realizes before you...

You will be rewarded. You pull apart slowly before Gyokko slmas you to the ground with his hand covering your mouth. "Nice done. You can take what you want." His fingers move against your fangs as your free hand slips under your clothes, massaging your scrotch, making you arch and bite by reflex. Then you moan at the stimulation, both at the fixation towards the blood and the releif in your genitals. It feels good. It feels good. You drink and suck, barely hearing Gyokko's voice and taunts, you just have your piece.

After all that effort to get it, it's almost sweet, it's and amazing, the agony suddenly turning completely into pleasure. You need more, you want more, you want to drink this blood every night with his hands all over you. On your neck, on your stomach, on your chest, your most sensitives parts. You barely realizes when you cum in your clothes, the liquids staining both what you are wearing and the Hashira's hand. It takes some seconds when the overstimulation turn the pleasure to pain that you freeze and pull away, panting, realizing you got put of a frantic state. "Next time I will let you bite part of my ear off if you behave, pet. For now, clean yourself mutt. Come back to me for more rewards if you can be a good puppy for me~." And you want that. You will come back to him, always.