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iceunhie · 3 months

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ⊹ unexpected development ! ꒱ ˎˊ˗

summary ⁠☆ you get transported into your favorite otome game’s world as a shitty side character with a raging death flag. you try to prevent your inevitable destruction... but it doesn't go according to plan as much as you'd hope.

notes ☆ of course it's another scaramouche fic except this time it's plot is manhwa inspired

“This trashy game!” you curse, watching the pitch black GAME OVER screen linger in your phone. Happy music plays despite the current cg of your character at the hands of the tyrant character slash love interest Scaramouche. You sigh, tapping on the back button. “I was so close to completing his route… stupid, stupid game, ugh…”

Teyvat’s Seven Stars was a new otome game that you'd tried out for fun, bored out of your mind. The amazing art and soundtrack garnered your interest, not to mention the male leads were totally your type!

It had an array of tropes and spared no expense of flowery scenes and fanservicey excerpts that made you play despite its massive cashgrab feature. Heart fluttering near death scenes! Action packed romantic scenes with the main characters! It was consuming you and you loved it.

Even if the Scaramouche route was testing your patience.

You get that he was the most difficult to conquer out of all of them, but really, one! wrong! move! ….and an immediate gameover. Life sucks when he's your favorite character, and when your favorite character was notoriously known for having a horrid and difficult complete clear route that no one has completed yet, of course you needed to complete it, no matter what!

Damn it, now you've run out of love points to restart another run. Fuck you, system! Stupid trashy money grabbing game! You put down your phone, closing it. An immediate heavy weight settles on your shoulders, making you feel sleepy as you clutch your phone to bed.

Tomorrow… you'll complete his route for sure…

[ TEYVAT’S SEVEN STARS SYSTEM ACTIVATED! RUNNING GAME FILE NOW ]

Ah. You should've known what was coming.

—

[ CHARACTER FILE: [NAME] [LAST NAME] - CROWN PRINCE KUNIKUZUSHI’S BETROTHED! ]

What the fuck.

You think you've lost feeling in your jaw when the glare of the system shines bright, mocking you.

“[Name], you're awake!” You turn to the sound, and you face probably the most beautiful person you've ever seen. No, what the hell. You've seen him before.

Beautiful silky dark hair, glossy electric indigo eyes, a perpetual aura of ethereal lightness…. the game descriptions weren't lying after all. yes, you weren't dreaming. This was Scaramouche, or should you say at this point in time… Kunikuzushi?

He immediately clings to you. Oh. Oh. Well fuck. “I… uh.”

Scara- ahem, Kunikuzushi’s eyes are littered with tears and oh no you're a weak hearted person for your favorite character. “I'm so glad you're okay! I'm sorry, my mother- I mean, I'm so glad you're okay.”

The rest of the moments is a blur when your… fiance? betrothed? fills you in on what happened. Your mind is fuzzy and you can only piece together just a rough summary of what point in the game you're in.

So, you are currently three years early from the main story. Unfortunately, you are not either of the main protagonists Lumine or Aether. No, the system apparently hates you for being a hater and gave you the most egregious role.

A side character. A side character who barely even appears in the story, left to be trampled on by the story's plot. What's more, you're in the timeline wherein the current Kunikuzushi doesn't take the name Scaramouche because his Mother, the lone Queen Raiden Ei left him when he could not pass the Inazuma kingdom’s test to be worthy of the gnosis.

He took the name Scaramouche after being trained by the shady organization known as the Fatui, the main villainous force in the game and usurped his mother. In other words, a blackened tyrant character!

...And you were the betrothed his mother set for him - executed in the future because he didn't want any trace of Ei’s influence. Amazing.

The future Kunikuzushi would be an arrogant, tsundere and soft-for-only-one-person type of character, but now, he was like a gentle, tucked away from the world young prince.

Wait…. wasn’t he also gullible before?! Very cute, but it's no wonder he blackened so quickly with such a naive personality!

You, well, technically, the character [Name] [Last Name] ended up in this situation after they threatened to leave Kunikuzushi because he was far too fragile for their taste. A side character who’d contributed to Scaramouche’s blackening and paid for it with their life. That was who you were.

Okay, now you pity this boy a lot. He already had a traumatic childhood with Ei not giving him enough love and therefore a plethora of issues, and he'd even end up being a crazy tyrant who stopped at nothing to get the main protagonist in his grasp! For your death flag not to happen, you HAD to do something about that.

You had no choice.

To survive this horrendous fate, you came up with a plan. And that would be Plan give-kunikuzushi-all-the-love-in-the-word-before-he-meets-the-protagonist-and-turn-into-a-blackened-dark-tyrant!

Okay, lengthy plan, but to plan ahead is to be smart, so you can take care of the name later.

—

So far so good, this plan of yours. Plan get-kunikuzushi-to-turn-into-a-sparkly-prince character and not his blackened self was going well! (You gave up on thinking of a cool name) Thank god for cliche romance novels.

So far, you've increased your proximity to him, including him to spend time with you, showering him with bouts of affection and care. And so far, it's been paying off. The once secluded Prince has become so cute and so sweet!

You have to pat yourself on the back for this. You were doing the protagonist a huge favor that now they had a wonderful love interest in their sights for future reference.

Although, if there was one nitpick you had on your conduct, it would be the fact that Kunikuzushi didn't take kindly to others aside from you, and would even be panicked, utterly devastated if you even brought up the mere mention of leaving.

“Break… our engagement in the future?” if it weren't for him looking shell-shocked and deathly pale, the furrow on Kunikuzushi’s face would've been cute. “No! I don't want that! You aren't planning to leave me, are you?”

He gives you the most horrendous god kneeling look of a plea, and of course you drop the subject immediately.

“It was a joke, of course. I'd never want to break our engagement!” you hurriedly reassure, gently taking his hands in yours.

Kunikuzushi looks at you, all puppy eyes and pink cheeks. So cute. Who wouldn't want to stay by his side? You reassure him, “Whatever happens, I'll always stay by your side, okay?”

He looks at your intertwined hands with an unreadable expression on his face. “Do you promise?”

You nod. “I promise, Kuni.”

He nods, gripping your hands tighter, and his expression rivals a blazing sun, brimming with conviction as he pulls you in for a huge hug.

And of course, who wouldn't turn down an opportunity to hug their favorite character?

Surely this time, you’ll definitely escape the death flag and horrendous side character ending, right?!

You don't notice the shadow on Kuni’s face when the mere mention of being separated from you comes up.

In the back of your mind, you wonder what would happen if your Kunikuzushi met the protagonist. Would he immediately fall for them? you wonder, and an uncharacteristic pang of discomfort tugs at your chest. Ah, what would it matter.

You smile at the gentle, pristine and kind Kunikuzushi that's currently excitedly telling you about how Ei praised his sword skills after he beat his younger sister. Even if the main protagonist would come here, you could keep this adorable Kunikuzushi for yourself for just a little longer.

You kiss his cheek, and he heats up. Yes, the future can wait for now.

How the hell did it come to this?

“You told me you'd always stay by my side, right?” a hand slicked with blood is resting on the side of your face. Electric indigo eyes, these ones now having a ruthless glint to them, stare up at your own. “I've removed everything else that can take you away from me. Now, you have no reason to leave.”

By remove, he meant the man who'd decided to make a move on you after you went to the gardens for some fresh air. Hence the blood on his hands and sword, hence the reason why there's a dead body by your feet.

The once adorable and fair-faced Kunikuzushi still turned into Scaramouche after all, and you failed to prevent his blackening. He was truly, undoubtedly the same game Scaramouche.

But… Why was he acting like this? Wasn't this the exclusive feature only the protagonist should be experiencing?

He presses a kiss to your forehead, then the back of your palm. You blush.

Yes, he is now an extremely dangerous individual capable of executing anyone he deems appropriate to just for the sake of it, and yes, this same man is kneeling before you as you're just about to leave after the main storyline cg act just started. And yes, like the protagonist, you should stay far, far away from him.

But could you really? When he was pleading you with such an expression of longing and yearning? He takes your hand to caress it to the side of his face, eyes haughty and grin unsettling, gosh was he so… so attractive, like that.

“You won't leave, right?” Why was he so…. so sweet? Why was this scene structured as if you were the one he wanted to be with, not the protagonist? “You promised me, after all.”

….And why on earth did your heart leap out of your chest when he said he wanted you to stay?

(It was hard to pretend you didn't know why when the smile on your face said otherwise.)

1.5k words, only the real ones know that ive been planning a cliche otome game au since day 1 I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED TO ME WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS FIC 😭 might turn this into a series if people like this though <3

@ MHIIEEE : do not repost, copy or plagiarize or claim my content or work as your own.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #scaramouche drabble #kunikuzushi fluff #mhie's spirals #teyvat's seven stars ☆

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asterias-record-shop · 10 months

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Can i have a full song with…ethan landry

dark romance, stalker!ethan, ghostface!kink

Had this idea that reader gets gifts to her apartment and it’s always anonymous, at first it’s cute gifts like flowers, chocolate or custom made playlist but then it starts to get darker like some pictures of her she wasn’t aware of or even things she lost MONTHS ago like panties, jewelry’s….it can even go darker that at some point he just snap and he send her sperm or something and he get her voice messages to confess his love and say he would kill for her (like post murder adrenaline) and one time she gets to her apartment and there’s no gifts because ethan is inside (and he’s basically the gift) and he has his ghostface costume on and maybe he makes a reveal and like he’s giggling and shit and maybe after some smutty scene ? like ugh i’m dying for this

—𓆩[secret admirer]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Ghostface! Stalker! Ethan Landry x Fem! Naive! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff, maybe slight angst?

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 5.1K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Ethan knew you were the perfect target whenever he met you. Oh you were perfect; beautiful,, sweet, funny, smart… but at the same time, so fucking stupid. He started sending you small things at first, your favorite candy and a CD with music that reminded him of you with a record player, but he needed more. He needed to make you know who he was, he needed you to love him. He couldn’t stay in the shadows anymore, and now that he’s finally sent you the biggest thing ever, he’s ready to reveal who he is - right after his first kill.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - THIS IS A DARK FIC, PLEASE BEWARE! || HEAVY MANIPULATION || READER IS EXTREMELY NAIVE || ETHAN IS VERY MANIPULATIVE || cursing & foul language || reader again is very naive || if i need to explain it, I took Kris from his real last name Kirsh || you both know each other out of this, but it’s not really mentioned until the end || voyeurism kink || toy usage || sleepy-fuck || blindfold || you’re a heavy sleeper now || creampie || cum eating || virginity loss || multiple rounds || raw sex || unprotected sex || creampie || multiple orgasms || dacryphilia || rough fuck ||

It started with a burner phone.

You were confused at first, especially because you had never seen one in real life since you had no use for one, but you kept it. You had thought maybe you could find out who it belonged to, so when it rang, you answered.

“Hi! My name is Y/N, I found this phone on my doormat, are you looking for it?”

Oh, Ethan wanted to laugh. Were you that nice? “No, I’m not… it’s a gift - for you.”

“I’m sorry?” You asked, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a gift… from me, your secret admirer.” Ethan smiled, the voice editor on his end making his voice come out deeper and more playful. With this new secret admirer personality, he could take on a new persona, someone confident and forward that you would fall in love with easily. “Just so I can reach you quicker.”

“Oh,” you say, smiling as you play with the burner phone. “I-I’ve never had one of these before.”

“A burner phone?”

“We-Well that too,” you say, giggling. “I meant… a secret admirer.”

“Oh,” Ethan spoke, smiling. “Well then, I’m glad to be your first.” He knew damn well you had never had a secret admirer, and it made him love it that much more.

“O-Oh… well what do I do now?”

“You take my gifts,” he responded, smiling. “I know you’ll love them, all of them. I think it will be pretty fun too.”

“Well… it won’t get like obsessive, right? Stalker-ish, I mean.” You asked, knowing that it had happened to some women in TV shows.

“Of course not, honey. Everything I send you will be harmless, I promise. I never break a promise.”

You smiled widely, nodding. “Good. I trust you… what should I call you?”

Ethan paused, humming slightly. What could you call him? “You can call me… Kris. With a K.”

“Is that your name?” You ask, tilting your head to the side as you slowly look inside of the box that the burner came in. “Oh, what’s this?”

“No, it’s not. But that’s a Polaroid of you. I know you like them, you can start a little album,” he responds, smiling. “My next gift to you will be an album. So you can keep all of the Polaroids I sent you.”

“I’d like that,” you respond, smiling as your finger goes over the picture of you getting your normal coffee at your favorite shop. “Do you know my coffee order?”

Ethan paused, smiling. Of course he knew your coffee order, he wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t want to seem that stalkery off the bat. “I’ll learn it,” he told you, his hand grazing over the to-go copy cup with your order scrawled on the side. “Get it delivered to you every morning.”

You laughed, biting your lip. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The next few months were amazing, beautiful even. It might’ve gotten a little weird, but Kris assured you that he was just moving your relationship to the next level. You’d never had a secret admirer before, so when he told you that there was nothing to worry about whenever the gifts started getting more intimate, you believed him.

“Kris, are you sure that this is okay?” You asked as he positioned himself on a nearby fire escape in an apartment he was renting. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this.”

“Hey, don’t you worry about it,” Kris said, smiling as you walked out of the restroom with the lingerie he bought you on show. “I’m not asking you to do anything in it, just try it on… do you have it on?”

“Yeah, I do,” you whisper, staring at yourself in the mirror. It was nice, a beautiful corset lingerie top and some skimpy underwear that actually fit you perfectly because it was the same one you tried on in the store. “H-How did you know I was looking at this one?”

“I think I know you well enough, my love,” Ethan lied, knowing damn well he followed you into the store you went into and watched you grab it before putting it back on the display after trying it on. It was too risky to try and follow you into the dressing rooms. “Does it fit?”

“Y-Yeah…” you whisper, inhaling deeply. “Yeah, it fits perfectly.”

He could tell that it fit perfectly, pushing up your tits and wrapping around your perfect body tightly, your ass on display from the tight g-string. He stared at you as you spin around, watching you check yourself out in your mirror. He loved the way you looked at yourself, confident with that spark in your eye.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you whisper, smiling. “I love it so much.”

“Good,” Ethan smiled, cursing as his alarm went off.

“Kris? Is everything all right?” You asked, his voice getting lower as you heard dinging. “Kris?”

“Yeah, I’m okay darling, just have to go do something,” Ethan responded, shaking his head. “You just take a few pictures for me and send them, got it? I’ll give you another present tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, sighing in disappointment before smiling, trying to fake some happiness. “I hope whatever you have to do goes well.”

Ethan smiled, rubbing his hand against his growing bulge as you slowly set down your phone, going to your drawers. He had been in your room before, not that you knew, and always stole your underwear - whether they were the cotton ones or the more skimpy ones - but you opened a drawer and pulled out a book he always ignored that never seemed too interesting. Who would have a book with no title on it?

“Thank you, honey,” he responded, humming. “Just send me those pictures and I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, opening the false book to pull out the silicone vibrator you hid inside of it. “I will. Have a good day, Kris.”

Ethan choked as you pulled out the vibrator, covering his mouth as you looked at the phone you had put on speaker. “Kris? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine!” Ethan closed his drooling mouth, shaking his head. “Just send me those pictures, okay my love?”

“Okay, Kris,” you respond, humming. “W-Wait.”

“Yes?” Ethan was getting impatient, already pulling out his cock as he grabbed the Polaroid camera next to him.

“I-I uhm…” you whispered this time, clearing your throat. “I-I’ll miss you.”

Ethan paused, smiling as he slowly pumped his cock. “I’ll miss you too, Y/N. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ethan hung up, turning off his alarm that told him to start getting ready for class. At this moment, fuck his professor.

He watched as you slowly laid on the bed, the exposed crotch area of the underwear allowing you to easily slip it up and down your slit.

You gasped, groaning softly as you felt the cold silicone against your clit. It had been a while since you had last used this toy, or any toy for that matter, but that didn’t matter right now. You felt so pretty and desirable in this lingerie, you deserved this.

You gasped as you held the button at the end, whimpering when it started vibrating loudly and with a force you didn’t remember it having. Quickly, you pressed it a few more times to get it to a slower setting, soft vibrations filling the room as you swiped it up and down your cunt. It felt weird at first after you had been without it for so long, maybe even slightly uncomfortable before you slipped your fingers down to join the toy, groaning with an unconscious rut of your hips into the toy.

Your fingers slide over your wet cunt, gasping as you pressed the tip of the vibrator to your clit, groaning as you lifted your hips just a bit to get that perfect angle. It doesn’t take you long to slip a pillow under your hips just as you slide a finger into your cunt, groaning loudly as you slowly turn the vibrator in a firm circle against your clit.

It wasn’t enough though, not for what you wanted, making you tilt the vibrator to an angle to push it down so the tip was against the top of your entrance. Your other hand pushed another finger into your cunt, the end of the vibrator pressed firmly to your clit as you rolled your hips into the toy.

Would he fuck you like this? Would he use a toy until you’re a blubbering mess underneath him and begging for his cock?

The answer was yes. Kris would torture you with a toy until you’re sobbing from overstimulation, but Ethan? The Ethan that you would bring out? He wouldn’t stop when you’re overstimulated, pressing the vibrator to your swollen clit as he used your pussy like a fleshlight for his own pleasure until you were sobbing and your mascara was running down your face.

He watched through the Polaroid camera, taking a few pictures and was grateful for the fact that he changed the film case so he could take as many pictures as he wanted while his other hand pumped his cock. He groaned, watching as you pulled out your fingers and pushed the vibrator into your cunt, pumping his cock harder as he shifted his hips and pulled the camera farther back, getting both his cock right at the moment he came and the image of your pinched face as you came around the vibrator.

Your eyes rolled back, groaning loudly as your hips buck uncontrollably into the vibrator, whimpering slightly as it pushed against your sensitive cunt, holding the back of the vibrator to try and turn it off, eyes rolling back when it took too long. You panted, inhaling sharply as you let it stay inside of your cunt for a few seconds before your phone dings.

Reaching for your regular phone, you tilted your head slightly in confusion when there was no notification until another ding made you look to the side, smiling as you slowly took out the toy and walked over and grabbed it.

Kris 3:23pm

Don’t forget those pictures for me, darling.

Later that day, when you were asleep, Ethan easily snuck in through your window from the fire escape. He was a bit paranoid since last time you woke up to use the bathroom and he had to hide underneath your bed, but he had run out of your underwear from cumming all over them. He had planned to wash them, but it never worked out because there were no washing machines and dryers at the dorms and it’d look very weird doing that in a washateria.

With that though, he slipped a blindfold over your eyes and headphones over your ears, watching as you twisted slightly. He grabbed his burner phone with the voice modifier, calling you as you hummed softly. You don’t question the blindfold over your eyes, or the headphones on your head, only focusing on answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey honey,” Ethan spoke, his voice edited as he slowly kneeled over the bed. “Guess who?”

You giggle, shrugging as you go to twist on the bed before he holds your hips. You gasped making him laugh, your voice echoing in your ears before his thumbs firmly slid over your pelvis bone. “Hey darling… darling, it’s me. It’s me.”

“Wh-Why are you here, Kris? Y-You’re scaring me,” you say, his shushing making you shiver as his thumbs slide down to your wet cunt covered only by your thin cotton panties. “Kris?”

“I’m here, honey, it’s me,” he said, licking his lips as he pressed his thumbs down firmly. “Got my hands here, baby. Rubbing you nicely. I just… I couldn’t hold back anymore, my love. Do you want me to leave? I’ll… I’ll leave if you want me to.”

He really wasn’t going to, honestly — if you wanted him to leave.

“No,” you respond, your hands swatting at the air before he caught your wrist and guided it to his chest. “Why did you wait so long? Why now?”

“Because,” Ethan whispered, his voice cutting out slightly as he slowly slipped down your panties. “I couldn’t hold back.”

“A-Are you… are you going to do something?”

“Like what?” He asked you, his lips softly pressing to your hip bone. “Can I… do something? I’ll be nice. I’ll be so nice, honey, nice and gentle.”

“Yes… yes, please,” you whispered, groaning as his thumbs slowly pulled apart your pussy lips and he stared at the wetness already leaking out.

He groaned as he stood, going into that same drawer you put the hollow book and taking out your vibrator, pushing it into his mouth with a loud groan.

“K-Kris? Is everything okay?”

“Don’t say that name,” Ethan’s voice came out more rough then he meant it to when he pulled the toy out of his mouth, cursing softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound that way… I just… it’s not my real name and I’d rather you moan my real name rather than that one. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, I understand,” you whimpered as he slowly kneeled in between your spread legs, taking the vibrator and slowly turning it on. “Wh-What’s that?”

“You don’t know?” Ethan laughed, pushing the vibrator between your folds and easily sliding it up and down your soaked cunt. He watched your face pinch, mouth falling open as your nose scrunched, wishing he could see your pretty eyes. Were they snapped open or squeezed shut?

They were squeezed shut, your thighs already shaking as your hands squeeze the sheets and your hips buck into the silicone. You gasped, the vibrations clear over your headphones as his mouth sucked on your clit, tongue lapping as he let his saliva gather.

On the other hand, Ethan was focusing on not cumming. He watched your hands dig into the sheets, your hips bucking with each flick of his tongue to that sensitive bundle of nerves that was just fucking delectable right now. Ethan was enjoying the fact he was making you feel good without even touching you, the vibrator doing all the work as he easily slipped it inside of you, thrusting it in and out as you moaned loudly.

He wasn’t even sure if you knew how loud you were being, your hands quickly finding their way to his hair and pulling him closer as his other hand held your thigh over his shoulder. He could feel you rocking your hips into the vibrator, your fingers threading through his curls and tugging slightly to hear him groan against your cunt.

It makes you gasp, the vibrations traveling straight through your clit to your spine, your stomach clenching as you rut your hips into the air. He groaned, gasping as he nudged his nose to your low puffy clit, pushing his tongue down to your entrance where the vibrator was handle deep inside of you.

He could hear your moans filling the room, unable to see the tears pricking your eyes from pleasure. You had never taken the vibrator this deep, his hand movements languid and lazy making you desperate.

Ethan was desperate so see the way your cunt clenched and fluttered, staring at each erotic movement. He was so tempted to stick his tongue in there with the toy, but he knew it would leave that unfamiliar feeling on his slick muscle, so he decided against it. Besides, he took enough pleasure listening to your moans and watching your cunt flutter when you started to get closer to your release.

Still though, as much as he loved watching you get off for something he was doing, he couldn’t cum. He wanted to, but he couldn’t, not if it wasn’t going to be inside of you and if you weren’t looking at him.

“Are you close, darling?”

“Y-Yes!” You screamed out, groaning. “Fuck, yes!”

You could feel the vibrator press to the perfect spot inside of you, your mouth falling open when the knot finally snapped and you came around the toy, screaming so loudly you could hear yourself. Your voice was definitely deeper than you thought it would be.

“K-Kris? Was that me?”

He turned off the toy with a soft curse, pressing a kiss to your clit as he slowly pulled it out. He watched your hands slowly pull out of his hair as he turned off the vibrator, thumbs pressing against his face as you pressed your lips together firmly. It makes Ethan’s brows pull together as his face scrunches, confused before you start to giggle.

“Well, I can’t see you… so I wanted to try to memorize your face with my hands,” you say, smiling. “Your skin is soft.”

“You can see me soon, my love,” Ethan whispered, slowly leaning forward so that his face was close to yours. You smiled as he nudged his wet nose against yours, his lips softly ghosting over yours as you inhaled shakily. “I promise you.”

You inhaled as you pulled him closer, humming as his fingers trail over your hips, his lips softly pressing to yours. His lips make you gasp, soft but slightly chapped, perfect against yours as you wrap your legs around his waist, softly rolling your hips against his hard cock making him groan loudly against your mouth.

“Won’t you fuck me, Kris? Please?”

“I can’t,” Ethan mumbled, humming. “I want you to see my face when I fuck you.”

You inhale, nodding as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. “Uhm… if you don’t want me to call you Kris, what should I call you?”

“You won’t have to call me that anymore, I’ll give you my real name soon, I promise.”

And with that, he pushed the vibrator right back into you, turning it onto its highest setting to watch your face scrunch, determined to stare at your face until he could see tears.

The next morning, Ethan gave you your usual coffee and pastry at your doorstep, a smile on your face as you called him while you ate.

“You should come by again tonight,” you suggest, biting into your pastry. “I could uhm… I could do something for you.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughed, pumping his cock. He had been edging himself since yesterday when he saw you, humming. “You’re already doing something for me, darling. You just keep talking.”

You paused, gasping. Was he… masturbating?

“Kr-Kris, are you-”

“What’d I tell you about calling me that?” Ethan almost got turned off, if it wasn’t for you stuttering. “What do you think I’m doing, baby?”

“I-I… I don’t know.”

“I’m getting your present ready,” he smirked down at the acrylic container already almost filled up with his cum, the last few releases already almost filling it up. “I think you’re going to like it.”

“What is it?” You asked, perking up as you finished up your coffee. “I-Is it something nice?”

“Oh yeah baby,” he laughed, cursing as he finally came, spurting it inside of the container as he grunted, cleaning up the side and sliding his finger over the side. “I think you’ll like it. I’ll have it at your door soon, my love.”

You smiled, nodding. “Right… right, okay. I’ll see you soon… darling.”

“We’ll see.”

You waited by the door as soon as he hung up, pacing desperately to be there as soon as he knocked. You gasped when there was a soft knock against your door, quickly opening the door and looking around to try and see if you could see someone in the hall, but there wasn’t.

You sighed when you looked down, a small box tied with a bow that you slowly grabbed and set on your table after locking the door. You answered it as you started opening the box, confused when you saw a small container. “What is it?”

“Oh, you already opened it, you’re so impatient,” he laughed, leaning against the wall of the room he rented right next to yours. “Are we going to act like you didn’t try to look for me? Running to the door like that.”

“H-How did you know that?” You asked, staring at the door. “I… did I miss you?”

“Just about,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Why don’t you open that container for me?”

“Oh… okay,” you whisper, slowly opening it and taking a slight sniff, nose scrunching. “Is it a lotion?”

He laughed, staring down at his cock that was already getting hard. “I mean… I guess it’s more… edible.”

“I can eat it?”

He hummed, listening to your actions as close as he could.

You lift it to your lips, slowly dipping your tongue inside and your nose scrunching when you tasted the salty substance. “What is it?”

“Something special I made for you,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You enjoy that, alright?”

“Can I cook with it?”

Ethan laughed again before his phone dings, cursing. “No, honey, it’s meant to be eaten on its own, but I have to go, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

“Can I see you?”

He paused, sighing. “We’ll see. I love you.”

“I… I love you too.”

He hung up, groaning when he saw a text from his sister. At least you had a class today, so you wouldn’t be suspected as the murderer.

That night, you still couldn’t figure out what that thing Kris gave you was, or you didn’t want to figure it out. You had an inference after you dipped your finger inside and scooped more into your mouth, but you blocked it out as soon as you thought of it. He wouldn’t be like that, would he?

When someone knocked, you looked at your phone, the number 10:32 bright on your normal screen. He wouldn’t leave a gift this late, would he?

Slowly, you walked over and peaked out the hole, face scrunching in confusion when you didn’t see anyone. It was stupid, yes, opening the door, gasping as you were pushed inside, face forward against your wall. For fucks sake, what kind of luck was this?

“Stop! Please, stop, I’m a college student – I don’t have anything!” It was true, you were waist deep in student debt, what could they want from you?

You could feel tears pricking your eyes as his hands paw at your waist, red stained fingers making you whimper before he starts to laugh. You had definitely heard that laugh before.

“Kr-Kris?”

“What did I say about that name?” His hands push into the front of your underwear, a gasp falling from your lips before it turns into a loud groan when his fingers graze your still sensitive clit. “I guess… now you can know my real name.”

You gasped at his voice, groaning as you pressed your forehead to the wall, his lips grazing your ear. “Wh-What is it?”

“Ethan.”

You paused, quickly turning around with a gasp when you saw the pretty face of the guy from one of your classes that you always looked at for a little too long. “Ethan… Ethan.”

“You like saying it, don’t you? Then you’re going to love moaning it,” he mumbled, watching your hips rut from his fingers grazing over your clit again, your body squirming against the walls as he laughed, easily pulling off your bottoms and underwear. “I’m so glad I used this pussy until you were sobbing last night, preparing you for my cock. Gonna use you until you’re a sobbing mess and you’re addicted to my cock. I’ve waited way too long to fuck you, and right now, I really need it.”

“E-Ethan-!” You screamed out as he picked you up, gasping as he threw you over his shoulder, walking straight to your room and throwing you onto the bed. “Wh-What happened?”

He looked down at the stupid Ghostface robe he’d have to take off to fuck you, with more clothes underneath, cursing. “Don’t worry, honey, you don’t have to worry about that. I took care of it.”

“Are you all right?” You asked, sitting up as he took off his clothes, stripping down to nothing as he crawled over your body.

“Don’t worry about that, my love,” he whispered, smiling down at you. “You just get ready to feel the most pleasure you’ll ever feel in your life, okay?”

“W-Wait!” You pressed your hands to his chest, panting underneath him. “I’m… I’m a virgin, Ethan. Please, please be gentle.”

He pressed his lips together, holding back a smile as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours as he held your face with one hand, the other pushing down to your cunt and sliding down your folds, gathering your wetness. He groaned as he easily slipped a finger into your cunt, your walls immediately clamping down as he imagined your pussy fluttering like he saw last night.

“I promise you baby, you don’t want me to be gentle. I’ll make you feel so good, I swear.”

You inhaled, nodding as he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

You gasped as he pulled his fingers out of you, watching as he slowly grabbed his hard cock, his tip an angry red and dripping precum, wasting no time pushing into your cunt. You gasped, groaning loudly as he slowly pushed into you, eyes rolling back as your eyes prick with tears of pain. It felt weird and hurt slightly, but it wasn’t anything compared to when he pushed the vibrator into you last night and watched you cum over and over again last night, so many times you lost count.

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling out to watch the moonlight reflect off his arousal covered cock, a choked sound leaving your mouth when you saw it. Were you really that wet? “You feel better than I could ever imagine, fuck!”

You were too overstimulated from yesterday, his thrusts rough and quick though still sloppy, his first time being in your cunt making him unhinged. How could he hold back when you were so wet and tight, clamping down on his shaft perfectly and barely letting him pull out? Fuck, he couldn’t stop now.

You held onto his shoulders, groaning loudly as you rut your hips into his, Ethan’s hands finding the backs of your thighs and pulling them around his waist with a loud grunt. Your nails drag down his back, loud whines leaving your lips as his tip abuses your cervix, hitting with each rough thrust as he pressed his mouth to your neck. “Fuck!”

His voice was broken and strained as your hips begin to move unconsciously, desperate to hit that high as his tongue dragged down your neck, already marking your skin up with hickies. He was so desperate, hips speeding up as he neared his climax, loud groans falling from his mouth as you cursed.

“F-Fuck, fuck Ethan! Please, please, it’s too much!” You sobbed, desperate for more just as much as you were desperate for a break. Your mind was blurry and hazy, mixing the wires of pain and pleasure, unsure whether to stop or keep going.

He laughed as he pulled away, leaning forward to kiss your lips, wiping your eyes as he paused his hips just for a second, desperate to control himself. He inhaled, finally finding a steady rhythm even though he was so close to cumming, desperate to make sure you found pleasure. "It's okay to cry, darling, I know it's out of pleasure. Come on, show me how good I make you feel. Cry for me."

Oh, that’s all you needed.

You sobbed as he finally thrusted one last time, a loud groan falling from his lips, his cum filling your deepest parts and pushing past your cervix enough to make your vision go white and a scream of his name fall from your lips. He doesn’t let you take a breath, easily flipping your limp body over to thrust his hips against your ass, turning into rolls in desperation as he pushes his fingers over your arms to follow up to your hands, intertwining your fingers as you sobbed from pleasure.

It was too much, his movements never stopping as he squeezed your hands, tongue trailing over your cheek. He smeared blood across your skin, not that you noticed, his mouth and teeth marking up your skin with hickies and bite marks, determined to show everyone else in the world you were his.

He pulled one hand away from yours, pushing it down to squeeze your ass in his hand, giving you a soft slap to make you regain focus back on him. “What are you thinking about, my love? You should only be thinking about my cock.”

Oh and you were. How long had you been in this position, how many times had you come and clenched around his cunt in desperation, signaling your body cumming around his length?

“I am, I am! I am, holy fuck you feel so good, fuck Ethan!”

He leaned down, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as your knuckles go white, eyes rolling back as previous tears fall into your open mouth making you taste the salty liquid, his teeth marking you once again. “You’re mine, darling. You belong to me.”

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

“I’m going to show you, darling, and I’m going to show the whole fucking world – starting by your neighbors knowing my name.”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡

Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪 𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪 𓆩[@theonetheonly-mee]𓆪

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪 𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪 𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪 𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪 𓆩[@c78r]𓆪 𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪 𓆩[@wenvierismycomfort]𓆪 𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@f-aggotry]𓆪

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0blobthefish0 · 23 days

Text

Partygirl Part 2

leighton murray masterlist | main masterlist

Part 1

Leighton Murray x Female Reader 1769 words

a/n - finally, it is here! i literally had this all written out except for the last part before the 17th, but I am incapable of writing cute date scenes, so this'll have to do 😅

You stir awake and your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you screw your eyes shut. Throbbing pain was incessantly stabbing at your brain, there was no way you didn't have any nerves in there because all you wanted to do was take the damn thing out. What the fuck did you drink last night, the whole bar?

Letting out a defeated sigh, you slowly opened your eyes and brought a hand to your head in an attempt to soothe the ache. Wait..

You froze.

Where were you? You questioned as your eyes adjusted to the dark. God, did you actually follow through with a one night stand? You could now hear, and not to mention feel, the soft puffs of someone breathing. You chewed on your bottom lip, nervously, as you wracked your aching brain for a solution. You nearly choke on a gasp when you feel a pair of arms tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against the other person.

Your eyebrows furrow - boobs? What the hell happened last night? And you almost feel proud of yourself until, you realise that you're still fully clothed, and now you feel horrified; how did you half fail a one night stand?

God, this was so embarrassing.

But then, you smell something familiar, expensive, and you finally pull yourself together enough to take a peek at the mystery person.

You hear yourself squeak and a hand flies to cover your mouth and you can't tell if looking was a good idea because, somehow, your heart is beating faster than it already was. You feel her hand slip from your waist and you feel as if your soul has lifted itself outside of your body.

"Y/n," you hear her croak out, her voice thick with sleep.

You let a stretched-out moment pass before replying, "Yes?"

"You okay?" She whispers softly, and you move to lay on your back.

"Yeah, I just- I wasn't expecting to see you there," you explain and Leighton can hear the nervous smile in your voice.

"You were pretty drunk last night," she recalls and she sees you wince in response. "There's some aspirin outside, if you want."

"Ugh, yes please," you say quickly.

You're sat on the sofa when Leighton passes you a bottle of water and an aspirin before taking a seat next to you. You pop the pill into your mouth and take a swig of water, smiling softly to yourself when you find that the bottle was already open. Your pounding headache seemed to dissipate instantly, it may just be a placebo effect, but you were thankful for it nonetheless, and you turned to her with a relieved smile.

"Better?" She questioned and you nodded your head. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, just listening to the quiet through the darkness that no longer seemed so dark.

Leighton couldn't help but be thankful that the room was still dark, otherwise you most likely would have picked up on the pink tint that was dusting her cheeks. The image of you pulling her in close, your hands on her face, the way you looked at her with those drunken eyes and your voice when you called her pretty was all that she could think about. Goosebumps began to litter her arms as she shook herself out of her daze.

"I should probably get going," you announced quietly and Leighton turned to see you hugging your arms.

"You could always stay y'know? I'm sure your roommate wouldn't be too happy with you," Leighton inputted, "and you do live in the other building." You had to fight the hopeful feeling from growing as you turned to look at her; did she want you to stay? No, she was just being nice, anyone sane would offer the same.

"Really, you don't mind?" You smiled sheepishly.

"No, I wouldn't have offered if I did," she shrugged and got up from the sofa to stand in front of you. "But you need to wear something more comfortable first cause," you watched as Leighton eyed your outfit before lightly shaking her head and gave you her hand to help you up from the sofa.

Quietly, the two of you made your way back into the bedroom and you stood beside her as she rifled through her draw for something for you to wear.

"You can get changed in here, or step outside if you want," she whispered to you as she passed you a pair of neatly folded clothes. You nodded your head in reply, quickly spinning on your heel as soon as you saw Leighton reach for the waistband of her jeans. You took a moment to collect yourself and settle your nerves before swiftly slipping out of your dress and pulling on Leighton's shirt and shorts.

"Done?"

"Yeah," you whispered quietly and turned to see her slipping into the bed.

Leighton watched you as you moved closer to her; something about seeing you in her clothes was making her stomach erupt with butterflies, you looked cute. She didn't know why she did it, maybe it was the time of night, or maybe it was an unconscious decision, but she opened up her arms - inviting you in closer - and to her relief you accepted and crawled into her.

"I meant it, y'know?" You confessed and let out a slow yawn.

"Meant what?"

"Nothing, sorry, I'm just tired," you whispered sheepishly, your one second of courage quickly leaving you as soon as those words left your mouth. What you wanted to say, was that when you had drunkenly told her that she was pretty, you were being earnest. You felt Leighton nod her head above you and then the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep once again.

---

You saw Kimberly send you a small smile and you made your way to their table, food in hand.

"Speak of the devil," you hear Bela sigh out as you place your tray on the table and taking the empty seat next to Leighton.

"Why are we talking about me?" You questioned.

"Bela's in a mood-" Whitney began before being promptly interrupted.

"Why didn't you two fuck?" Bela nearly shouted accusingly.

"Woah-"

"Okay! No need to be so crass."

"Just because we both like girls, does not mean that we automatically want to jump each other's bones," you defended with a hushed voice, hyperaware of the people around you.

"Speak for yourself," Bela mumbled, upset, taking a not so discreet jab at Leighton.

"Hey," Leighton gaped, "you're the one that encouraged me!"

"Yeah, I guess I did. I'm just mad, my ship needs to sail; like you literally have all of the materials, get to building!" You shook your head at that with a slight laugh and soon enough the conversation drifted away from the two of you.

You took a forkful of your lunch before turning to Leighton, the movement catching her eye.

"How'd your quiz go?" You asked her.

"Uh- yeah! It was um," Leighton was struggling to hide her shock, she had only mentioned the quiz once, maybe twice, a week ago, "it went well," she nodded with a smile on her face.

She couldn't remember if you said anything after, too concentrated on the way that she was feeling and the way her face was heating up, so much so that she had to turn away and focus in on the conversation at the table.

---

The following week flew by quickly. You were resting on your bed, the relief of finally sitting the exam washing over you, when you felt your phone vibrate. You felt for it and at seeing the caller ID you squinted suspiciously.

"Leighton?"

"Hi."

"Are you.. okay?" You questioned with confusion; Leighton never calls you.

"Yeah, I- is your roommate there?"

"No, she wen-"

You stared, dumbfounded, at your dark screen. She hung up.

knock. knock. knock.

The fuck?

Almost cautiously, you get out of bed and tip-toe your way to the door before cracking it open ever so slightly and then swinging it fully open.

"Leighton? Are you sure you're okay?"

Standing before you, in all her glory, was Leighton Murray dressed to the nines like she always was whilst you stood in pyjamas. It wasn't even necessarily late, possibly just half-past six, but you enjoyed living in comfort.

"Of course, never better," she replied, moving into the room after you turned to the side to let her in.

In reality, Leighton had never felt so anxious in her life. If she hadn't called you on a whim, she most likely would have been back in her dorm by now. She spun around as you closed the door and, were those her pyjamas? She had let you keep them that night, and just seeing you in them was giving her whiplash to last weekend.

"I want to ask you out, on a date," she stated. "I know you said that thing a few days ago about how just because we both like girls we aren't automatically attracted to each other or whatever, and that other thing of people in a relationship should be in different friend groups, which was basically a big fat sign saying 'we're just friends', but you honestly make me feel insane and I can't stop thinking about you like all the fucking time and maybe, hopefully, you like me back or maybe I'm just crazy and delusional and all the signs are just figments of my imagination."

You stared at her with a growing smile as she ranted and now she was partly out of breath as she searched your eyes, and swallowed nervously.

You nodded your head tentatively and Leighton took a small step toward you.

"I need you to say it," she whispered softly, the words barely passing her lips, her wide, Bambi-eyes on you. She needed to know it was real.

"Yes," you nodded again, "I'd love to go on a date with you." You saw as she visibly relaxed.

"When are you free?"

"Umm.." you began as you sifted through the busy days ahead for a potential gap.

"Now?" Leighton offered and your eyes snapped to her.

"I mean- yeah?"

"Great." You felt Leighton take your hand and begin to lead you out of your room.

"I'm not changed."

"You don't need to be, plus you look cute in my pyjamas."

"Yours? They're mine now," you grinned as the door shut behind you and the two of you made your way out of the building.

"Do you have a plan?" You questioned as you stepped outside.

"Drive."

#female reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #wlw #fluff #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #the sex lives of college girls #Blob's fics

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chococoveredsmores · 10 months

Note

Like anything miles 1610. I feel like everyone is writing for miles 42 and forgetting about the og!

midnight cravings - miles morales

SUMMARY: texts at 3am + a mcdonalds notif = a recipe for chaos

WORD COUNT: 561

A/N: i love midnight snacking. mcdonalds always hits harder at 2 in the morning! also sorry i keep writing miles in like situations where he isnt usually 100% Himself (sleepy, sick) so um,.. i will get to a proper one soon

WARNINGS: nothing seriously bad just fluff, food i guess, reader doesn't know miles is spiderman, reader is highkey a simp

"Ugh..." You wake up with a groan, rubbing your eyes and assessing your surroundings. Noticing the still-dark environment surrounding you, you reach out for your phone which was on the bedside table.

2:42 AM. The phone lights blare onto your face, causing you to squint. As you scroll through your notifications, two catch your eye— a text bubble from Miles sent a few minutes ago, and a promo from McDonalds for their new meal.

Miles’ message was rather cryptic, and a normal person wouldn’t understand what “ruawkkekkrkx” meant. But a few months of these kind of typos (which meant Miles was either on patrol or barely awake), and one learns the language.

On the other hand, the McDonalds notif… if it was a propaganda technique, it was definitely working on you. You click on the advertisement, and damn did that chicken burger look good…

You decide to go back to Miles’ text. After opening the app and keyboard, your fingers feel too heavy to type… so you tap on the call button instead.

After exactly three rings, he picks up; in place of his normally spunky voice was a low, raspy one.

“Hey. You good? What’s with the random call?” Damn, his voice was unintentionally sultry as hell. Would it be weird if you started screen recording? He wouldn't know, right?

Ahem. Anyway.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little hungry though. I just didn't wanna type. Um, nice voice by the way." You hear a chuckle through the screen.

"So, you hungry? I mean, I could like, get you a snack or whatever."

"It is literally 3 in the morning right now." Though you expressed disapproval at what he said, your facial muscles tugged into a smile.

"Whatchu want?"

One link to a McDonalds meal later, you're patiently waiting in a now dimly lit room, phone in hand and still in bed. You decide to watch a show while waiting.

You're midway through your show, engrossed in a particular fight scene when you hear your window open with a click. Your fight or flight senses kick in, and you jump out of your bed and grab your phone and lamp (it's the nearest weapon, so...).

You watch as a dark figure comes out of the window in fear, you are ready to swing your lamp and dial your nearest police station when the figure raises both their hands in the air, to signify peace...?

The person pulls up their mask to show their face, one that you'd instantly recognize anywhere.

"Miles!"

You drop everything and sprint to his arms— literally nothing, not even a meteor, could stop you at that moment from wrapping yourself around his lean figure. Miles places his hands on your back, and the two of you relish in each other's presence.

You wish the two of you could stay like that forever, but the enticing smell of a chicken burger and drink eventually draw your attention towards it and you pull away from him.

"Can we talk about how the hell you got to my window with me living in the 21st floor? I seriously thought that the moment you clicked open the window was going to be my last for a few seconds."

Miles smiles and slightly bites his lips, and God forbid the kinds of things you would do for this man.

"Maybe over a chicken burger?"

a/n: to be completely honest i cringed so hard typing this fanfic but i just need to finish it so i hope none of you umm.. feel what im feeling rn at my own writing...

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #itsv #spiderman: into the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales fluff #miles morales imagines #miles 1610

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grimoireofhayley · 9 months

Text

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn’t aware of)

Word Count: 1.2k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie

A/N: I hope you all are enjoying this series so far, it’s going to be a long one! Let me know in the comments what you think about it thus far, what your favourite chapter is, or even part of a chapter. It makes my day reading your guys’ comments (: and it motivates me more to do more chapters! Also, I’m almost at 100 followers and I couldn’t be any more grateful 🥹 I’m thinking that once I hit the 100 mark, I’ll write a short story for said 100th follower of their choice! Or you guys can request any character for me to write about and a prompt on my page, it’ll make it a lot easier lol. Thank you ☺️ I hope you like this chapter!

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 6

The atmosphere was quickly illuminated by red, white and blue hues as the now-new crime scene unfolded in front and inside of your house.

“Jesus, (Y/n), what happened?” Tatum sprinted to your side, maneuvering under the caution tape and into your living room.

You sighed, rubbing your temples in slow-soothing circles, stress appearing in dark patches under your eyes.

“He was here…” You whispered, traumatized as the image of Steve’s heart flickered in your memories.

“Tatum, you shouldn’t be here. This is official police business, now.” Dewey scolded his younger sister, walking up beside her.

“Ugh, as if…” She rolled her eyes, “She’s staying with Sidney and I tonight. I was coming to pick her up…”

“That was still happening… even after the fight Sidney and I had?” You looked up at Tatum, momentarily forgetting about all the fuss that was going on around you.

“Yep, it’s a good thing too.” Tatum chuckled, sitting next to you. “I don’t care what happened between you and Sid earlier, you were my friend first and I’ll be damned if I let a bitch-fit between the two of you get in the way.” She nudged your shoulder, playfully. You smiled, but it quickly faded, hearing the staticky-voice over Dewey’s walkie-talkie.

“Dewey, you might want to come see this.” Sheriff Burke spoke, concern coaxing his words.

Your stomach twisted in all sorts of directions, squeezing tightly at the acid that was forming in it, causing it to travel up to your esophagus. You were ready to vomit, but you swallowed it, fighting the feeling, not wanting to go anywhere by yourself.

You wondered what Sheriff Burke meant.

“Right away, Sir.” Dewey spoke into his device, walking into the direction of where his boss was.

“So, what exactly happened, ( N/n)?”

“I got a phone call, then it quickly escalated from there…” You placed your hands over your face, futilely attempting to suffocate yourself with the pressure. “I thought nothing of it at first, but I-I was already getting the heebie-jeebies from the call, but he sounded genuine, so I ignored the feeling and kept talking to him…” You brought your hands to your lap, looking at Tatum, “Then the ph-phone went silent and at that exact moment, my doorbell r-rang…” You stumbled your sentence, struggling to find the proper words to continue explaining. “I was hesitant, so I peeped through the eyehole, trying to see if anyone was lurking about, but there was no one.” You sighed, “I decided I’d open the door, and you know, maybe get a better look, again, there was no one.” A tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, take it easy..” Tatum tried to comfort you and brought you into a hug, you were quick to wrap your arms around her, squeezing her, as you whimpered.

“Th-There was this box, and I didn’t think twice before I brought it into my home… oh, god.” You sobbed, “His heart was in it, Tatum, his fuckin’ heart!” Your voice broke.

“Hold on, whose heart?” She asked, baffled by what she was hearing.

“Steve’s.” You let out a quiet mewl, hugging Tatum tighter.

“How do you know?”

“Because he said it in the note and I-I believe it.” You sobbed yet again, “That’s not e-even the worst part…”

As bad as that may sound, it was true, the heart in the box wasn’t your main concern, but the fact that he was watching you, that he admitted it over the note that he had sloppily written, that he stated it over the phone; he was there, he could have been in your house the entire time, waiting for a moment to strike.

You could have been his next victim, the next book Gale Weathers would’ve written about. However, what’s even more concerning is that you thought it was sweet that he’d given you one of your biggest heartbreaks in a box. Pun intended.

The killer gave you Steve Orth’s heart; the guy that gave you both hell and pure bliss behind closed doors. The guy who seen you at your most vulnerable, the one who continued to defile you even when he was in a relationship.

You had his heart, officially. That’s all you ever wanted, but that was months ago.

This was karma doing what she did best, revenge…

Did the killer know about the affair? The humiliation? Did he kill Steve just for you? No, he couldn’t have, but did he? Was he someone you knew? Probably not, but he could be. You’ll never know and it’s eating you up inside. Why make a grand gesture and not show who he is, or even give you a subtle hint of who it may be.

As much as it scared you, it also humbled you. It was romantic, but completely unnecessary, yet, you wanted to thank him. Thank the stranger; the killer, for doing God’s dirty work, or in this case, Karma’s.

What is wrong with you? For fuck’s sake, he killed two people, and probably will kill again. Why would you want to thank him for that, are you that depraved? Maybe.

“Earth to (Y/n)?” Tatum snapped her fingers in front of your face, startling you from the never ending thoughts that corroded your mind.

“S-Sorry, what?” You stuttered, wiping a single tear from your cheek.

“I thought I lost you there for a moment, Hun. Dewey wants to speak with you…” She smiled, lightly, nodding towards her brother who appeared out of nowhere.

“Okay.. yeah, y-yeah, for sure..” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

You pushed yourself off the couch, making your way to the kitchen with Dewey.

“We’re sending the heart and the box away for DNA testing to see if it actually is Steve’s heart, alright?” Dewey explained, “We also want to take the note…” He stopped, turning around, picking up some other object, “And this to see if the suspect had left any fingerprints.” He showed it to you, and you paled, but the colour soon came back to your face as you felt yourself blush.

You were met with a paper-white face with two hollowed eyes and a gaping mouth, it was a mask, a mask that looked utterly horrifying, yet, disturbingly attractive at the same time.

Was it wrong that you were starting to get wet from the sheer thought of a possible tall and muscular man killing for you, wearing this mask?

Probably, but you didn’t care.

You squeezed your thighs together, putting pressure on your heat, trying to not let it slide that the mask was getting you off.

“We found this outside in the bushes by your house.” Dewey said, “Have you seen it before?”

You shook your head, biting your lip, you’ve never seen that before in your life, you’d be sure to remember it if you did. Though, now that you did see it, it wasn’t going to leave your mind, especially with how it was making you feel.

‘It almost looks like a Ghost Fac—‘ You cut yourself off mid thought.

“G.F…” You mumbled at no one in particular, “That’s what it stands for, Ghost Face, the killer dubbed himself as Ghost Face…”

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tired-biscuit · 2 years

Text

Rude

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou/fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni!!], established relationship, oral [f!receiving], bakugou being a motherfucking tease.

Word count: 1.8k

---

“Ugh… Why do you always gotta be like that, Kat?”

KATSUKI’S mouth leaves your pussy with a wet pop! at the question you whine into the vast space of his tidy living room.

The place is dark with the late hour; the turned on television being the sole exception of shedding some light to the otherwise pitch-black room.

Every change of scene and camera angle to come from the movie both you and him are currently too preoccupied to watch, causes oddly-shaped shadows to dance on the walls that are tastefully covered in prime artwork.

Your eyes have trouble following the shifting and thrashing of dark versus light from how badly you wish to flutter them shut. The pure, unrelenting bliss you're feeling in that exact moment is hard to endure. It makes your eyelids heavy with lust.

The noise that creeps up from the busy street several floors below the chic apartment sounds faint in comparison to your hammering pulse. Chatter, occasional traffic and music from countless bars fill your ears every second. Sure, the city might be buzzing with life at half past two in the morning, but you are goddamn crackling with it.

And your boyfriend is to blame for it.

Looking down - past your heaving chest and trembling stomach - you now busy yourself by eyeing the glimmer of the thin strings of saliva that bridge the narrow, but empty space between his mouth and your throbbing cunt.

The sight is peculiar. Hot. His warm drool clings to his plump bottom lip and produces a delicious sheen on the tender flesh that’s currently in the colour of ripe cherries from all the kisses he’s left right between your trembling legs so far.

The lewd connection snaps as soon as a grin, that you can best describe as purely wicked, breaks his lips apart. Katsuki smiles down at you, now - big and broad, as is the normalcy for him. But no matter how many times he has graced you with that exact same beam, the flash of teeth is still as chill-inducing just as it was the first time.

His voice is a purr of a feline; a rasp that’s gone coarse from need, “Like what, pretty?”

Your brow furrows in annoyance at the way he taunts you now, exactly like he always does. His eyes are a dark carmine and they glimmer with carnal mischief through a gaze that’s hooded from sleepy lust as he curls the two thick digits that he still has nestled deep inside you.

He pushes them in right to the beaten-up knuckles in one obnoxiously laggard shove, forcing your sugary slick to trickle right into his broad palm in decent droplets that he can’t wait to lap up. The sharp gasp you voice in response is awfully indecent, but it might just be his favourite one to come from you, if he doesn’t count the pretty moans of his name and the way you laugh when you’re truly happy, of course.

Katsuki might not show it, but the tremendous need you exhibit for him, both in sexual and more tender aspects, makes his heart melt into a jelly-like substance underneath all the hard exterior he otherwise flaunts in front the eyes of the world and its pesky media.

But no matter how rough and tough he tries to represent himself as, the simple truth is there: he goes soft when he’s desired. Turns compassionate when depended upon. So much so, in fact, that it might be turning him into a, dare he say it, somewhat of a romantic after two years of steady dating with you - his wonderful, albeit sometimes annoyingly fussy, girlfriend.

“Kat, baby,” you huff in that exact fussy tone that makes his blood boil in all the right ways and brings him back to reality, “stop acting like an idiot and gimme what I want.”

“Tsch.” The way he clicks his tongue against his teeth in faux disapproval makes your chest tighten. He knows you want to get slammed on his cock. Knows it damn well, and yet he refuses to give it to you, because you're acting bratty and brats need to be taught a lesson. A stern one.

He’s smirking as he says, “And if I don’t?”

Your dainty fingers tremble as they wrap around his wrist when you try to shove his hand away in answer. However, no matter how tightly you try to squeeze your legs together to keep him at bay, Katsuki refuses to budge, forcing them right back apart until you're splayed before him like a meal he's eager to dig in.

It’s a losing battle you’re fighting, let's be honest. He’s much too strong for you to overtake physically, with all that rippling muscle and masculine vigour he's got going on, and much too stubborn to be persuaded into yielding with the equally as potent obstinacy that he had inherited from his mother.

Both his body and mind are made out of pure iron. He could break you with his bare hands, but piece you back together just as well. It’s a blessing and a curse; just another list of pros and cons that accompany dating a pro hero, you suppose.

Your train of thought is broken by a rush of heat that flows through your lower stomach when he applies more pressure to your hot insides and presses his thumb against your swollen clit. He rubs tight, little circles on it, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as fire begins to lick and nip at your skin.

Damn him. He's too good. There’ll be nothing but ash left of you if he keeps this up.

“Mm, I hate you s'much,” you grit out through clenched teeth, eyes blinking profusely in attempt to squeeze shut or roll into the back of your head, you don't know which one, “so, so much.”

“C’mon, baby,” Katsuki mutters, watching every twitch and wiggle your feverish body gives at his torturous touch, “don’t be rude like that.”

Your eyes shoot wide open in pure bewilderment before they narrow just as quickly as you try to glare at him. He’s chuckling at your pouty expression now; one corner of his lips quirking upwards at the way heat sears your face and makes you just too fucking cute to take seriously.

“Ex-Excuse me?” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. What you’re enduring. “You’re the rude one!”

Your spine lifts from the couch in a perfect arch all of a sudden as he strokes that soft, gushy spot he’s a master at finding, making you mewl and cry out like a pathetic kitten underneath him. You’re writhing from how good he is at pressing all the right buttons. At how good he is at fucking you with his fingers.

“Me?” He hums like he’s seemingly deep in thought, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps to form over your thighs when it fans your skin as soon as he lowers his head between your legs again, “Rude?”

“Yeah… Fuck, Kat… You, mm… You really are an idiot.” Your voice breaks into something more primal and high-pitched when his mouth finds your pussy again.

He parts his lips gently as he sucks your clit into his mouth; warm, drool-coated tongue darting out in viciously delicious attacks of pure expertise. God help you, he's so good at this. Too good.

A low grunt leaves the back of his throat when he once again tastes how sweet you are, the tip of his nose pressing so harshly against your pelvis that it scrunches up against you until wrinkles etch the bridge of it.

He quickens his pace with those wonderfully rough fingers, calloused pads stroking your velvety walls and sending your heartbeat into overdrive. He looks so hot eating you out like that; cheeks tinted red and eyes of the same colour glazed from how good you taste as your heels keep digging into his broad, muscular back and your fingers insist on running through his damp ash blonde hair.

You’re going to burst. You’re going to fucking erupt into absolute euphoria and float far, far away, until he has to grab you by the goddamn ankles and drag you down from heaven.

If he even lets you reach heaven, that is.

You can literally feel an icy shiver of anticipation tumbling down your spine as he keeps pleasuring you, despite the fact that your skin is hot and covered in sweat. The salt to riddle you makes you stick to the fancy throw blanket that you insisted he buy to make his apartment feel more homey and that’s now twisting and crumpling underneath you.

You’re losing brain cells and the ability to speak coherently when his tongue plunges into your tight, sopping hole. Head tipping back into the cushion, you realize that he’s going to ruin you like this. That he's going to swallow you whole, until there’s nothing left of you but a pleasant memory he might or might not keep.

“Kat, I-I’m so close,” you whimper, hips bucking upward in apparent need, “so, so close, baby… Fuck, please. Please, don’t stop, god.”

But Katsuki does just that. He stops just when you’re ready to become undone. He leaves you clenching around nothing and your clit unattended just when you’re about to tip over the edge. Of course he does - the absolute fucker.

He’s smiling at you now, the beam more of a naughty smirk than anything else as he keeps kissing your poor pussy over and over again. The fact that you’re on the cusp of crying and that hot tears are visibly lining your waterline from how fucking frustrated you are is making his pants tighten to an unbearable degree.

God, he loves seeing you like this - yearning and dumb from raw emotion. All because of him. It makes his cock throb and he just knows it’s going to hurt when he at long last shoves it inside that cute cunt of yours. Knows that he’s going to make you cry for real when he makes you bounce on it; all hot and bothered.

But all in due time. He's way more patient than he used to be.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, each open-mouthed affection he places on you sending electricity coursing through your core, “I didn’t mean to stop, but I guess I’m an idiot just like you said, huh? Lemme make it up by trying again, yeah? I promise I'll do better. So fuckin' better.”

Some would understand his words and the way he offers you one toe-curling, languid swipe as an apology of sorts, but you know your alluringly rough-around-the-edges boyfriend better than that. Know that the shadows of iniquity to haunt his crimson eyes mean something entirely else.

They spell game over. Battle lost. After all, nobody calls him names and gets away with it. Not even you. Especially you.

Because he’s Katsuki Bakugou - forever the rude tease.

And he’s going to make you pay first before he makes you cum.

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader

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thebestandrealestever · 9 months

Text

~SUMMERS OVER !~

☼

miles 42 x black fem!reader chill after a long nd hot party .

fic based off of ‘summers over’ by drake i def rec listening to it w the song playin .

warnings : LOTS of slang, use of ‘n word’, suggestive jokes(?), threats (jokes), kissing scene, dark humor(?) dui!!!

genre = fluff

miles=purple you=pink others=orange

☼

i walk up to a group of my friends stumbling a bit.

“hey y’all i think ima go, anybody seen miles?”

i say almost shouting so they could hear me over the loud music.

“uh i think i seen him ova dere” my friend kamya points to the bathroom line.

“igh see u.” i say looking at the line

“see u boo, text me when u get home okay ? be safe” she says pulling me into a hug and kissing my cheek. looking into my eyes making sure i was listening .

“okay i will. see u” i hug her once more then turn around to wave at my other friends then heading to the bathroom.

“miles!” i shout as i see him entering the bathroom but he obviously didn’t hear me. i politely as possible push past bodies saying sorry every 10 seconds so everyone know i’m not one of them ppl.

“ik this bitch ain’t just cut me innis damn line” i hear a girl say to her friend , i stop walking for a second contemplating beating her ass or talking shit about her when i find miles for hours. i choose the second option cursing her out under my breath as i walk into the bathroom.

“ay bruh i’m in here” miles say before turning around and seeing me.

“oh, hey baby” he chuckled at his mistake, he zips his pants , flushes the toilet and walks to the sink to wash his hands. i hop up on the sink kicking my feet back and forth.

“you wanna go? i’m bored and almost beat a bitch ass” i say to miles looking him up and down

miles laughs halfheartedly turning the sink off and getting a paper towel to dry them “yea? what she do?”

“just fuckin- she called me a bitch for- ugh! whatever it’s finna just piss me off again.” i get upset all over again and roll my eyes to shake it off. miles comes up and kisses my cheek.

“okay ma don’t get mad again, let’s go .”

i smile at his affections and hop off the sink stepping back to look at me and miles in the mirror, and i pull my phone out and take a picture he kisses my cheek to pose and i post that one to my instagram story and i take another one with miles smiling widely and me doing the same to keep to myself.

“yo send me that i look fine as hell” miles says smiling looking at my phone with a fist over his mouth. i turn my body so he can see my side eye

“who told u that?” i say jokingly looking at him with a confused face. miles takes 2 fingers and pushes my head, crossing his arms and turning to his back facing me

“girl u can walk home” he says flipping one of his braids

“okay sassy nigga” i laugh as i slap his booty

“don’t play with me (name)” he turns around raising both his eye brows. i laugh as i walk up to him and kiss him, both our breaths taste like liquor but we don’t care. i wrap my arms around him to pull us closer. he bites my bottom lip asking permission and i open my mouth giving it to him. we explore each others mouths and miles taps my ass for me to jump. i do and he puts his hand under my mid thigh not breaking the kiss, he puts me on the sink counter and puts me down moving his hands from my thighs so my ass gripping my dress softly. he pulls away for air and looks into my eyes for a sec before kissing my neck biting softly. i gasp at his teeth and just as we’re getting into it.

KNOCK KNOCK ! “nigga open up . it’s people who gotta piss out here” a faint voice is heard from outside the door, i pull away and we both chuckle as i get off the counter and pull my dress back down after it rode up

“cockblock” miles chuckled as he opens the door for me, i walk out grabbing his hand leading him to the door. we go outside and miles let’s my hand go to talk to his friend ganke

“holup ma lemme go talk to ganke” he says losing my hand turning around to look at me before leaving. one of my homegirls sees me and walks up to me wasted obviously.

“(name) my bitchhhhh heyyyy” she says shouting even though we’re outside.

“hey girl you okay?” i say catching her as she stumbles. she steadies herself and nods at me

“i’m fine just needed to catch a break tonight yk? cause this nigga obviously wants me to put a bullet in the middle of his eyes.” she says, i laugh loudly a bit but she thinks it’s funny. miles comes over and puts an arm around me. i look up at him and kiss his cheek.

“hey miles, y’all so cute. imma sleep on the highway tonight” she slurs, me and miles just chuckle and we all notice the conversation dying

“alr imma go back inside, see y’all” she turns around and starts walking

“see u bae, don’t drink any more and facetime me when you get home okay?” i shout at her and she turns around for a second to say okay then walks back in.

“u ready mama?” miles ask and i nod my head. we get inside of his car and i take my shoes off and put the window all the way down feeling the wind flowing through my soft locs. we drive in comfortable silence as i hum the words to the songs playing.

he pulls up to my house and we get out, he grabs my shoes and walks up the stairs.

i unlock the door and i start laughing at nothing as i tip toe up the stairs to my room. i unlock the door and miles closes it behind him locking it back. he says quietly looking around the dark house

“yo mama and sisters aren’t here?” he says at the abnormal silence in the house

“yeah they are they just sleep”

“damn how late is it?” miles pulls out his phone to look at the time . 1:40 AM , 12 missed calls from : tio, 3 unread messages from: tio

“shit shit” miles cures under his breath putting my shoes down in my room. i’m turning on the shower, my led lights and my speaker.

“u okay?” i ask turning toward him.

he unlocks his phone quickly holding his breath before reading that aaron needed him before but then said never mind as he handle whatever it was himself.

“uh- nothing i’m cool” he says letting a breath go as he takes his own shoes and jacket off, he notices the shower running

“u showering?” he asks raising an eyebrow

“no nigga i’m just running it to turn the water bill up!” i say sarcastically walking to my closet to take my clothes out and replace them with a towel.

“yea whatever, i’m coming w u” he says grabbing his clothes and towel from a drawer i have dedicated to him in my room.

i get in the shower and miles gets in with me as we wash the day away. when we come back out “summers over” by drake plays, this was the song that played when me and miles went on our first date last year. it played on the farris wheel where we shared our first kiss also. i grab my fake microphone lip singing it as i dress my self into miles boxers a tank top , he puts on his shorts and sleeps with no shirt since the heat, and we both put on our matching bonnets . we sit on my queen sized bed and miles does the same, he grabs his phone from my nightstand and rubs my back as i lay on his chest. miles starts to sing the song to me and i do the same.

days in sun, and nights in the rain.

summer is over, simple and plain.

we sing the rest of it laughing and as it fades out he kisses my shoulder.

“you know i really love you princesa ?”

“i know” i chuckle “you know i love you more?”

“don’t start with that shit.” he says rolling his eyes

“whatever i do but okay” i mumble under my breath

“huh mama ? what was that” he says

“nothing….” i say smiling and getting up straddling him he stares at me for a little to long

“yesss?” i chuckle awkwardly

“you just look so good on top of me princesa”

he licks his lips and i flick his forehead

“u so damn nasty” i say laying back down on his chest as he yawns.

“go to sleep baby” i say and my response is his light snoring. it doesn’t make me long to fall asleep after him and my mother comes in and snaps a picture of us , sending it to rio for them to gossip over together .

☼

HEY BTCS THIS MY FIRST FIC TELL ME HOW IT IS AND IF I SHOULD KEEP WRITING . BYE

#Spotify #miles morales #across the spiderverse #prowler x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales 42 #earth 42 miles x reader #black fem reader #black reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x black reader #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 prowler

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phyrestartr · 7 months

Text

Simple Things [3] - Miguel O'hara x Male!Reader

# Mild NSFW, fluff, comfort, flirting, light angst, male!reader, dad!reader, spider!reader, implied depression, mentions of trauma, mentions of past relationships, mentions of manipulation, old men just doing their best, miguel is a sweetheart and a nerd, multi-part drabble collection

[ 1 ] Smoke Break | [ 2 ] We Change Like the Seasons | [ 3 ] Meet the Kids

Notes: Covid is still kicking my ass but I wanted to finish this part off so I can make the reader and Miguel fuck in the next part wahoo \o/

-- Meet The Kids --

A girl walked into the lab. Miguel thought maybe Gwen or another spider had come to ask something of him or to steal one of the cookies from his desk console (wouldn't be the first time), but the lazy scuff of shoes on polished floors sounded too clumsy to be one of his agents. She wasn't wearing a suit either, Miguel realized after sparing a glance over his shoulder; she did, however, sport a day pass on a small wrist.

"And you are?" Miguel asked before turning back to his screens. He wasn't really in the mood for conversation while he tracked the next anomaly, but he couldn't say he wanted some random kid to be touching his stuff in his lab.

"I dunno. Who're you?" Ugh.

The clattering of something hitting the floor made Miguel's eye twitch. He took a breath. "I'm the guy running the show here." He closed screens with gruesome scenes of destruction, hiding them from the prying eyes of the innocent in the room with him. "And I'm the one who's about to call your guardian."

She scoffed. "My guardian?"

"Whichever spider dragged you into HQ and let you off your leash with a day pass." Miguel spied her out of the corner of his eye, but didn't have the decency to face her. "Lyla. Scan her."

"You got it, buddy."

"Woah, wait–!" The girl gasped as a warm orange light washed over her, flickering across her entirety before vanishing. "Dude." Despite the attitude, her voice trembled faintly. Miguel almost felt bad. But she touched his stuff. Not his fault.

Lyla whistled and adjusted her sunnies as she leaned into a tiny screen of her own. "Oooh, you're gonna love this, Miguel–"

"Miguel?" The girl repeated. "Like…the guy Dad talks about?"

A clairvoyant feeling overwhelmed the spider, probably the same way spidey senses hit the normal spider-people around him. Somehow, he knew who she was, who her dad was before Lyla even said it.

"Yep, that's (Name)'s kiddo," Lyla chirped.

Miguel looked at the girl. He really looked at her this time, feeling some sort of stupid with how much she looked like you; her hair was fluffy and unkempt in the same shade yours was, the shape of her nose was like a smaller, cuter version of yours, too. Then there were her eyes. That same hazy hue of uncut gems, a colour of protective dullness that hid something brilliant and effervescent from the outside world.

"(Name)'s kid," Miguel repeated. Your name felt comfortable on his tongue these days. "Kid, I–what're you doing here? Where's your dad, huh?"

The girl, very clearly looking around the room to try and spot the elusive Lyla, shrugged. "I 'unno."

Colour Miguel unimpressed. "Oh, you don't know. Good. Great." He tutted before running a hand through his hair. "Lyla, call the kid's dad–"

"He's sleeping!" She blurted. "You can't just, like, wake him up; Dad never gets to sleep." Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as her cheeks puffed. "And my name's Isabella, y'know."

Miguel's dark brow raised in question. "Isabella." Said with a Latin accent. Interesting. Miguel's chest felt tighter. "If your dad's asleep then he probably left you with someone." He looked at her expectantly.

Isa shrugged again and scuffed her worn soles against the floor. "Mr.Parker didn't notice. He's watching Natalie and Nico and May 'n whatever. So. Yeah."

Mr.Parker? Oh. "Hm. He babysit you a lot?" God, Miguel should stop asking questions, but curiosity and that damn attention deficit had him by the throat. He turned around and folded his arms over one another, too, before leaning back against the stage console to speak with Isabella properly.

"Ugh, why are old people so–so freaking annoying? I'm not a baby, I don't need anyone to watch me." Ah. Of course.

"Oh, wow, ah-huh, yeah. Sure. I'm sure your dad agrees." Her amateur glare wrought a smirk out of him. Would he have argued with Gabi like this?

Miguel cleared his throat and turned back to the console, reaching for another cookie absent-mindedly. "Look, you can stay here until your father comes to get you, but you have to stop touching things. Got it?" But Isa only grumbled and scuffed her feet again. "Isabella."

"Uuugh. Fiiine." The girl plopped down into an old rolling chair. Miguel tried not to twitch. He would not snap at a child for breaking his chair, he would not do that. Absolutely not.

Not even one minute of silence passed before the kid rolled closer to the centre stage Miguel stood at. "Sooo you're, like, my dad's boss or something?"

"Guess that's the easiest way to put it." Miguel peered at the girl from the corner of his eye.

"Okay, but what's the hardest way to put it?" Isabella wiggled and sat backwards on the chair, hugging the backrest as she scooted around the lab. "Are yooou…friends?"

Miguel shrugged. "I'd say so."

"Hmmmm. Are you more than friends?"

His eye twitched again. "Do you interrogate every adult like this?"

Isabella huffed. "Uh, he made you cookies. It's sooo not weird to ask if you're, like, a thing."

"A thing."

"Like boyfriends–"

"Santa Muerte, I know what you mean, kid."

"Okay." Silence fell for all of ten seconds. "I'm just saying–"

Miguel groaned. "Can you stop talking for five minutes–"

"--you'd be waaay cooler to have for a step dad than all the people Dad's been dating."

"Yeah, well, I'm hard to beat." Oh, wow, did he just say that about himself? Christ. Miguel took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders with all his might. "That came out wrong. I–look, you need to just–he's dating?" Miguel cringed. It's not that he was interested in you like that, just…he was nosy, that's all. But he was incredibly aware of how that must have sounded to an equally nosy tween.

Isabella perked up. "Uh, yeah. But everyone he dates ends up being suuuper crazy and weird. Like, it's reaaally bad."

He shouldn't pry. He really shouldn't. "...Bad how?" Ay, Miguel.

"Like, they're always super clingy or don't like kids or something. And, like, Nico and Nat had moms who had dads who super hated dad, so they gave him money to make him go away." Isabella nodded matter of factly. "That's what Dad said. He's super sure he's cursed or something. Granny was a bruja y'know."

Miguel shouldn't be listening to this. He shouldn't be prying into your life through the conduit of a chatty kid. Asking you would be the better option, but this way was so much easier. It felt like he could finally get a grasp of what you'd been through, and maybe catch a glimpse of who you were behind the scenes.

"Then what about your mom?" Miguel asked, crossing his arms and flicking his gaze back to the monitors. "That didn't happen with her?"

An offended gasp burst from the young lady. "No! My mom was so not like that. She was Dad's girl!"

"No kidding." Miguel hummed. He wasn't about to ask what happened to her. Spiderman never had an easy romance, never had an easy life.

"Yeah! They fought in the war together, and her name's–"

"Isabella." Your voice cut through the air like winter rain. Miguel almost got chills, and Isa squeaked before hopping off her chair and scrambling on the stage to hide behind Miguel.

"Oh, look at that. Someone's in trouble," Miguel mumbled, mean smirk quirking the corner of his mouth.

Isa glared up at Miguel. "Jerk."

"Isabella, quit bothering the boss," You groaned tiredly. Miguel's ears perked as the coo of a little one fluttered through the air. He turned and found you holding the littlest baby in one arm, and a toddler in the other, both incredibly K.Oed.

"M'not bothering him!" She protested. "I'm just hanging out!"

"Cut the crap, you're probably complaining about school or about my love life or how I wouldn't get you a new phone or some shit." Miguel had to fight back a laugh. He'd never heard you so exasperated nor animated before. "And why the hell did you run off, huh? You had Pete freaking the fuck out."

"I got bored! I just wanted to go look around!" Isabella pleaded with a puppy-level whine.

"Isa, this place, it's–it's not meant for people without powers. You could get hurt, alright?" You adjusted your grip on the two little ones in your arms. "And the lab is a whole 'nother story, Christ–"

"It's fine, (Name)," Miguel cut in, turning to you. "She was fine."

But the worry lines creasing your forehead didn't smooth quite as much as he wanted. "'Ppreciate it, Boss. But, I…" you trailed off, sighing softly. "Yeah. Just. Thanks. I'll, ah, get her out of your hair. Bet you've got work to do."

Mija, let's go is what Miguel swore he heard come out of your mouth before Isa pouted and ran after you.

Mija. That word brought a world of hurt and comfort to his chest–the coincidence of Spanish on your tongue felt too…perfect, like you'd learned it just to shove it in his face. But Miguel knew better.

Isabella.

Mija.

Your girl, Isa's mother, must have taught you. He liked that, for some reason. The idea of learning something new for a partner. What would you teach him if you were–

Woah, woah, stop, Miguel. Stop. His ears turned hot. He worried at his bottom lip with fidgety hands before shaking his head free from such dangerous thoughts.

Focus, he chanted to himself, you've got work to do.

You decided you were sick that day. No, you weren’t really, but the headache chipping away at your skull suggested that, hey, maybe staying home for a day wouldn’t be a bad thing. You could use a break from dragging yourself around New York, searching for the next big scoop, the next tragedy to document and earn a living off of, too.

So, there you were, in bed, with the tv in the front room playing some sort of movie that you’d heard a thousand times but never learned the name of, while your littlest, newest addition to the family starfished in a laze, his tiny tummy pressed to your broad chest. Your fingers lazily rubbed circles against his little back as he snoozed and drooled on your shirt. Somehow, the giggling and chattering of his sisters didn’t wake him up. Maybe the drumming of your heart, or the safety of a warmth he hadn’t known until now, drowned all of it out.

He didn’t even stir when his sisters screeched.

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. God, please just let it be a spider, please just let it be a spider. You sat up, holding your baby to your chest as you plucked a gun from the side table. You carefully set Nico down into the warmth of where you were laying before stalking to the door and whipping it open, gun poised and ready for–oh. A big spider.

“What the fuck, Miguel,” you hissed, beyond exasperated as you lowered the gun. “Why the–what–I could’ve shot you.”

Miguel looked beyond bewildered, though some would say entirely bamboozled. He had his hands up like the police had them in his sights, his face was a combination of embarrassed, shocked and annoyed, and his claws had popped out in his flustered panic. His spiderman suit was still on, but he had that white hoodie thrown on top like it’d hide the fact he was spiderman. Hopefully it did.

“I–” Miguel started.

“Ah-ah.” You cut him off like a dog misbehaving. “Girls?” Their heads popped up from behind the couch and you sighed in relief. “It’s alright, he’s a friend. From work.”

One of your daughters gasped. “It’s the weirdo that’s suuuper into dad!” Isabella cried, jumping out from behind the couch and pointing an accusatory finger at a very unamused-looking Miguel.

“For the last time, I’m not–”

“You so are!”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Yeah!” Natalie joined in, hopping up and down by her sister excitedly and pointing at the man they deemed guilty. “You are, you are!”

Miguel, probably halfway to an early grave, looked to you for help. But you flashed him a tight-lipped smile that said more than words could offer: perish.

You let the girls hound him while you turned on your heel, heading back into the bedroom to sooth your stirring little boy. The gun found itself back in the drawer, safety on, magazine removed, before you scooped the tiny being into your arms and smooshed up against your chest. Your son quieted and clung to you. You left a kiss on the top of his head to welcome him.

"So," you started as you came back to the scene of the crime, "the hell're you here for, Boss?" You asked, completely unfazed by how the girls had corralled him onto the couch and had his hands in their own, their curious fingers pushing on his tendons and making his claws pop in and out. Honestly, you were pretty tempted to do the same.

Miguel pursed his lips and ignored the gremlins on him as he looked at you again, something distant softening his features.

"I, uh. I heard you were sick," he confessed with a small shrug. "Just thought…y’know."

You hummed as you rubbed your son's back. "Huh. How'd you find that out?"

"Peter mentioned it."

"Pete doesn't know I'm sick."

"Must've been Jess, then."

"Jessie doesn't know either."

Miguel was caught. His ears grew red before his cheeks did, and you smirked. Cute. Way too cute.

"Lyla told me," Miguel grumbled, finally.

"Ah. There it is. Not so hard to tell the truth now is it, Miggs?" You said with a Cheshire smile and a wink. "Good to know you've got your confidant spying on me."

Miguel freed himself from the children and stood up quickly. "It's not--I'm not spying on you, I–you–" Miguel pursed his lips. "I don't need to explain myself."

That made you laugh. "Relax, tough guy. I don't mind ya swinging by. Or, hm, guess I don't mind ya portal-ing in." Miguel didn't seem to think you were that funny, but thankfully Nico, in his haze of dreams, giggled at the right moment. "Nicky thinks I'm funny. You should take notes."

It didn't take much convincing to get Miguel to stay for dinner. You made him take a shower, though, and leant him some clothes to lounge in while you cooked everything from scratch. From scratch. Miguel couldn't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal.

"Yeah? That's sad as shit," you remarked nonchalantly as you diced vegetables. "Tell ya what, you make it a habit of coming around, and I'll make sure I make extra for you, yeah? It's important to have that home cooked goodness for your soul 'n what not."

Miguel felt his chest fill with something fluffy and warm. "Good point." But it wasn't, really. "Guess I'll have to make it a habit." He leaned back against the counter as he watched you prep everything. "Wouldn't want you putting in all that extra effort for nothing."

You twitched a bit of a smile and nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

You spared a glance at Miguel. He looked calm, at ease, like the threat of the dimensions collapsing wasn't at the forefront of his mind for once. You thought, maybe, this might be the first time in a long time that he had his mind off work. Maybe he was doing that whole human thing and enjoying the present for a change. Jumping to conclusions wasn't really your style, though.

Crimson eyes flickered, then, gazing towards the crib settled in your bedroom. He must've heard your little man stir. He must've wanted to do something about it, if his sudden shiftiness told you anything.

"You mind checking on him?" You asked softly, knowing that, maybe, this was a big ask for a man who only had a phantom to tuck in at night. "He's fussy. Likes to be held."

"You're sure?" The other man asked, brows furrowed in concern.

"You kidding? If there's any guy I'd trust with my kid, it's you." You fiddled with the wrapper of the packaged chicken meat before ultimately stabbing it with a knife. "Go on. Before he starts crying."

And Miguel wandered off to the little one. His voice had that sound to it when he spotted him, that kind of gentleness a man unlocked when he felt what it meant to be a father, a protector of a smaller soul. You listened hard for Miguel's smile, and felt your heart throb when you heard, "Hey, mijo. ¿Estas bien?" leave his lips. Your little boy cooed, and Miguel made a noise that sounded so frightfully domestic and dad-like, you thought you might perish on the spot, or fall in love in a second.

Get it together, get it together. A deep breath steadied your blitzing nerves when Miguel came back to the kitchen, Nico in his arms, smooshed up against his chest. You stole a glance, smiling to yourself when you caught Miguel mooning over the lazy bundle of joy.

You worked fast, feeling a weird, undeniable desire to talk after you had your army of children fed and sent to bed. Miguel didn’t leave your side, nor did he deign to put Nico down, not through soup and sandwiches, not through 20 questions hosted by Isabella and Natalie, and not through the moments alone where you herded the young ladies off to wash up before getting them to bed for the night.

“Y’know, you’re gonna spoil that kid,” you said with a smile when you came back to find Miguel on the couch with your son. You sat down by him with a dad-like sigh and peered at the little one snoozing away. “He’s gonna demand you hold him every time you come around.”

Miguel huffed a laugh. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“Hey, with arms ‘n pecs like that?” You pat one of Miguel’s impressive biceps to prove a point. “I get where he’s coming from. Lots of free real estate with good foundations.”

“Oh? You want me to hold you too?” Miguel offered, some sort of impish lilt lifting his voice as he looked over at you.

You fought back the urge to swallow. “Sure. If you’re offering.” But Miguel looked a little caught again, a little unsure of how much to tease and how hard to press, so you let him off the hook with a laugh.

“Man, you really remind me of her.” You rested your head against the couch, maybe a little bit on Miguel’s shoulder, as you watched your boy sleep. “Liliana,” you amended, “Isabella’s mom.”

Scarlet eyes flickered to you. Seems you caught his attention. “Liliana,” Miguel tested the name on his tongue slowly, thoughtfully. “Isabella’s mom.” And after another pause, he asked, “I guess she’s gone?”

“Gone. Yeah.” You blinked slowly, and let the words rotting in your lungs breach the surface: “I killed her.” Ah, maybe you said that with too much nonchalance, you worried, but Miguel’s low hum seemed to suggest otherwise.

It felt good. You couldn't stop yourself from talking. “It was an accident, I guess. She was a scientist. Geneticist, I think. Made me into, well, whatever I am now.” You flexed your hand and looked it over, like the blueprints of your design were still hidden under tired skin. “‘Cause, y’know, I was a soldier, she said I was gonna be the next Captain America, but… that doesn’t matter. Anyway, side effects were bad, really bad. I freaked out, then--then, y'know.” You took a breath. “Killed my little girl’s mom.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you stared at nothing, sucked back into a daze and a trance you’d long forgotten about. But you remembered the blood, the screaming, the way you and those webs ignited and how the white lab coats all howled and screamed and popped. The scent of roasted flesh should have disgusted you, it should have knocked some sense into you and dragged you out of whatever episode you were having, but instead–

Your stomach growled, and you cleared your throat.

“Yeah. That was a bad day.”

“I get it,” Miguel said, and sounded like he meant it. “Guess something like that happened to me.”

You peered up at him, glimpsing his conflicted, troubled look.

“Yeah?” Thought Spiderman had a boring, normal story. Because, in totality, you were something more demented than just Spiderman, so your story was more fucked up than the rest. Maybe you were wrong.

“Yeah. I was–my research killed someone when I was trying to make them into, well, Spiderman.” Miguel sighed and shook his head, admonishing himself from the past. “I didn’t want to. I got pressured into it. Drugged when I wanted to quit. It was a mess.

“Tried to rewrite my DNA, and then a colleague shocked that up for me, and I ended up with the claws, the fangs, the–the everything. Slashed his throat by accident, got some other people killed when they tried to help me, killed some baddies when I didn’t mean to.”

Miguel’s gaze turned to you. “So don’t think you’re alone.”

“Huh,” you said astutely. “Guess you really meant it when you called us ‘miserable bastards.’”

“Takes one to know one, I guess.” Miguel’s shoulder shifted slightly, easing down so your head could rest more comfortably against him. Your chest swirled with errant embers, but you tried not to think too hard about it.

“You said I reminded you of her. Of Liliana?” Miguel asked, quiet and tentative.

You hummed. “Yeah. The good parts.” You smiled (when had that gotten so easy?) and reached over to brush some dark hair from Nico’s tiny forehead. “She was smokin’ hot.”

“...Huh.”

“Way too smart for her own good,” you continued. “It's always the smart ones that get me, y'know? Anyway, she was sly 'n funny in a mean way, but hey, I like that shit. Maybe I'm a masochist."

"So," Miguel started, shifting slightly to face you more, "let me get this straight. You think I'm 'smoking hot,' 'too smart for my own good,' and 'funny in a mean way'?" The grin on his face was too much for you to handle. Why did you feel so hot suddenly? Why was he so close suddenly?

"I think that sums it up."

"Huh. Anyone ever tell you you're an asshole?"

"Ouch. Okay, what if I throw in 'she was born to be a bangin' mom','' you offered, feeling a long-forgotten rush of excitement as you sat up and leaned in close, so close, your hand coming up to cup the side of his strong neck as you kept talking, "and that she made me feel somethin' for the first time in a long time?"

You could feel Miguel's breath hitch in his throat as he measured the gap between you two, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back to your eyes in debate. You wanted to close it. With every inch of your being you wanted to take the plunge and crash your lips against his.

But, with every fibre of your soul, you didn't want to fuck this up. You didn't have words for what this even was, but you cherished it. Sauntering down this line of friendship, of companionship, was better than taking the dive back into that world of icy yearning and wilting roses–this type of love, the platonic sort shared between brothers and men, was meaningful in and of itself. It was good enough.

Wasn't it?

You looked over his face, in disbelief with yourself. "Who am I kidding?" You whispered, letting your hand fall from his neck like a glacier shearing away from its home.

A small, tired laugh crawled from your chest, and you rubbed your face. "I, uh, think I oughta call it a night. I'm gonna–I gotta tuck Nicky into his crib." And carefully, gently, you scooped up your monkey and whispered quiet thanks into his hair–your little man was the perfect scapegoat.

What're you thinking? Careful hands pulled up the banana-patterned blanket over Nico's tiny form after you'd set him down in the cozy crib that he loathed so much. You thought it was nice and comfy. Hell, if you could fit, you'd probably snooze in there all day.

"Good work today, Nicky. I think you made the big guy relax a little, y'know?" Your son cooed sweetly in his sleep, and your spirit lifted just slightly. It almost gave you the strength to go face Miguel after coming onto him so hard.

Finding the last bit of courage yourself, you gave your boy one last kiss on the noggin and quietly snuck out, closing the door with utmost caution behind you, only to be pressed up against it a moment later, and smothered with a kiss.

A bolt of lightning kicked your pulse into triple time as you kissed Miguel back. His hands caught you by your hips, and your arms hooked around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. The simple thing was exhilarating. He was exhilarating. The embodiment of strength and resilience, of power and intelligence, was crushing you up against a door and taking the air from your lungs with such ease.

"Fuck," you gasped when you parted with a wet noise that sounded far too Hollywood. "You're not half bad."

"You've got a talent for ruining the mood." Miguel scoffed and tilted your chin up. His half-lidded eyes drank you in as soft breaths left his parted lips. You wanted nothing more than to be eaten whole by him (was that weird?).

"I got a few other talents, too," you purred, voice swirling with velvety dark chocolate. "But that might be too much for an old man like–"

Your squawked indignantly when he scooped you up and hoisted you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a petulant child. Your hands scrabbled against his back, and a shocked bout of laughter bubbled up from your core as he slapped you on the ass hard. Was this real? Were you seriously getting manhandled and spanked by Miguel O'hara?

Miguel almost threw you onto the couch, but you guessed the children snoozing in the next room over hampered that decision.

"If there's one thing I'm never too old for," Miguel murmured lightly, almost condescendingly as he set you down on the couch and got on top of you, "it's sex."

Your eager hands flitted across his taut muscles, too excited and undecided as to where to land first. "Thought you were too old to sleep around?"

"I don't sleep around," Miguel corrected, letting you fill in the blanks.

That helped you relax a little. "Yeah?"

He looked so conflicted, a little embarrassed, too. But that was becoming more and more common these days, thanks to you. "Yeah."

You nodded and reached a hand up to his cheek, and he leaned in graciously as a needy cat might. "Okay. Then I don't either."

Miguel hummed, and turned to mark your palm with a little kiss. "Alright."

"And maybe…we don't fuck tonight." His sleepy gaze found you again with one dark brow raised, surprised. "I'm, uh, I think I'm down pretty bad for you, Boss. I don't wanna fuck this up."

And, truth be told, you wanted to give him some respite. Maybe you wanted to give some to yourself, too; Liliana and Dahlia danced through your mind so much these days, no thanks to the burgeoning fondness growing for Miguel. He reminded you of both of them, of Winter and Summer, of snow and flowers. But it wasn't fair, not to you or him, to compare him to the epitome of cold and the apex of warmth. You needed time, too. Time to learn how to compare him to no one.

Miguel smiled, small and sincere. You admired the fine lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. He looked so handsome when he smiled. You wanted him to do it more. Were you enough to make him smile more?

"Yeah. I don't want you to shock this up either," he said, and your brows raised, incredulous.

"This is what I get for trying to be mature ‘n romantic, huh?” Your fingers drummed against the arms caging you in. You thought about chancing a finger-taser to his ribs, but with those damn claws of his, you were a little too worried about your couch cushions getting demolished.

His handsome smile turned into a punchable smirk. “What? I’m agreeing with you.”

“Ah-huh, ah-huh, that’s all, hey?” You leaned up and kissed Miguel again, slower and tamer this time, but still burning with want. Ugh. Why did you have to try to be all mature and romantic? “You’re just being a good boy?”

Miguel’s hips twitched at that, and it was your turn to smirk. Oh, how the tables turn.

“Lay down,” you ordered, sitting up to get out from under him. “Come on.”

“I–what?” He grumbled, looking a little befuddled and frustrated. Cute, cute cute. “Thought we agreed on–”

“Heavy petting’s not off the table, right?” You cut him off. Miguel perked a little bit at the suggestion and did as he was ordered, his hands finding your hips again as you took your turn straddling him. “Luckily for you, I’m an expert at the clothes-on experience.” You winked and Miguel sucked in a breath.

“Show me.” He ordered, voice deep and gravelly.

And you did.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr

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katy-l-wood · 2 months

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Okay, finished the whole season. Thoughts on the new ATLA under the cut. (They're positive, so if that's not your jam that's fine. But I'd like to keep this post positive. Discussion is welcome, bashing is not.)

I fucking loved it. This is easily the best adaption of something I have ever seen. They got the tone so well, and the way they mixed in 1 to 1 stuff from the original show with their new stuff worked so, so well. That addition of the division Zuko saved being assigned as his crew? Chef's kiss. Chef's fucking kiss.

I think the biggest marker of success for me, though, is that I didn't have to do anything else while I was watching and I didn't WANT to. My attention was fully, 100% on the show 95% of the time, which is so, so fucking rare for me as someone with ADHD. I don't even remember the last time I watched a show and didn't have to also be drawing or doing a puzzle or playing a game on my phone to stay engaged. But with this I didn't.

Also, the COLORS. It was such a fucking pretty show. And IT WASN'T FUCKING BLACK. There was LIGHT. I watched 80% of it during the day in my relatively bright livingroom and I could always see everything clearly, even during the night scenes. And the siege of the North with the limited hues and blasts of fire? Perfect.

And Azula! The way they added her to this season was so damn good. Sets up her character so fucking well. Just. Ugh. Yes.

They also aged it up just right. It really feels like a WAR is going on in a way it didn't in the original (which is not a critique of the original at all, just what worked for telling the story that way). But it also doesn't revel in that darkness constantly, which is refreshing.

As for the changes they made to Sokka, I think the warrior narrative works really well, and they rounded it out nicely. I can't wait to see his eventually reunion with his dad now. Would it have been more true to his character to include the sexism as well? Yeah. But I think, with the way they streamlined the narrative overall, having him go on a journey of learning better about his sexism AND struggling with being a warrior would've made things feel bloated. Focusing on just the warrior narrative, to me, just works better with everything else they did in the live action.

Can't wait to see what they do in season 2! (And we better get a season 2. And 3.)

Also.

Queer ladies Oma and Shu FTW.

#Avatar the Last Airbender #Live Action Avatar the Last Airbender #Live Action Avatar the Last Airbender Spoilers #Avatar the Last Airbender Spoilers #Spoilers

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sheeple · 11 months

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Miracles don't exist | 9: Something fishy

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None this chapter A/n: Did I use dialogue of Catching fire. Maybe. But that scene is so damn cute and I love it how Peeta looks at Katniss. Ugh [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The days grow slowly less cold but wetter when the second task approaches in February. It's been weirdly quiet. No letters from your aunt or uncle and no letters from your father. You're very relieved that he hasn't written to you in such a long time. That means he is too weak, he's too occupied with something evil and nefarious, or he's dead. You highly doubt the last option.

You walk with your cousin and his friends to the dock so you can take a boat to one of the three platforms. You see Harry walk not much further from you next to Neville and you speed up, catching up.

"Hey", you say, making both boys turn towards you, "Good luck with your task. Please be safe, yeah?"

Harry nods shakingly, obviously anxious about what's to come. You reach out for his hand and give it a squeeze. "You can do this. I believe in you." You give him a small smile, hoping it gives him some sort of comfort.

"Where are Hermione and Ron, by the way?" You look around but don't spot the redhead and the brunette that's usually not far away.

"I don't know", he mumbles. "They've been gone since yesterday. McGonagall asked to talk to them and since then they haven't returned."

You frown. It's not like them to just disappear. "I'm sure it's nothing. Maybe they are a part of the task?"

Harry looks solemn towards the water. "I rather hope not."

Arriving at the boats, a hand on your waist steadies you as you step into the wooden boat. You look up and see Theodore glaring at Harry, who looks too anxious and concerned with the second task that is minutes away from happening to even bother.

The other Slytherins fill the remaining seats in the boat and you wave goodbye to Harry.

Nobody says anything but you feel the glares from around you. "What?", you snap.

"Seriously, Potter?", sneers Draco, his bottom lip curled up. "You know what I have said about fraternizing with the enemy."

You sigh, massaging your temples. "For Merlin's sake, Draco! The boy is terrified! Who knows what he is going to encounter down there. If it were you, you would already be screaming and crying to your father to put an end to the tournament."

Draco's jaw ticks but it seems to shut him up effectively.

The boats stop at the raised platforms and you immediately get out, not accepting the outstretched hand of Theodore. Seeing your opportunity to get away, you climb the first set of iron steps to get to the top deck. There you have a nice overview of the water and the surrounding landscape.

Your head rests on your hand as you lean against the railing, waiting for the contestants to get ready to dive in the water when Theodore slides into the empty space next to you. "I've been thinking─"

"Congrats on using your brain, Theo. You didn't strain it?"

Theodore stops and looks at you with raised eyebrows. Quite perplexed.

You bite your bottom lip. You've grown too comfortable too quick at the idea of Theodore being your friend and you've overstepped boundaries. "Sorry. I've never been really good at being friends."

He smiles, obviously enjoying your little quip. "For starters, it helps when you know the person. I hardly know anything about you except that you love muggle books and that you have the most amazing smile, even though you rarely show the real thing."

The comment about your smile makes your cheeks heat up but you decided to push it down. "That about sums me up."

"There is more than that, you just don't want to tell me."

"It's like I said─"

At that moment Professor Dumbledore starts his speech to explain what the second task contains and with the sound of a cannon firing, the contestants jump into the water. Harry follows after them a couple of beats later.

Theodore leans close to you and says, "Listen, Black, how the whole friend thing works is that you have to tell each other the deep stuff."

"The deep stuff?", you whisper back, your eyes focused on the murky water.

"Like...", he glances up at the sky, "what is your favourite colour?"

Turning towards him, a smile adorning your face. "Now you've stepped over the line."

The both of you laugh. You slap a hand over your mouth and hit Theodore in an attempt to quiet him down before it attacks the attention of the people around you.

Still smiling, Theodore props his head on his fist and says, "seriously though, what is it?"

You think for a moment. What is your favourite colour? Most of the clothing that you own is black and dark green, but that's more to blend in with the rest of your family and the Slytherin students. Your room back home is also mostly black. The only colour you can think of is-

"Pink", you decide.

It makes Theo's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Pink?" He looks perplexed. He for sure expected you to say some variating of green or something.

"Pink", you confirm. "But not old pink. More like… a tulip pink."

Theodore hums, a large smile forming on his face. "Tulip pink?"

He bursts out laughing and you push his shoulder smiling. "It's a nice colour! What is yours anyways?"

He doesn't hesitate for a moment. "Green."

"And you're critiquing my colour of choice?"

Theodore bumps against you with his shoulder. "Shut up. The Whomping Willow leaves colour nicely in spring."

One corner of your mouth twitches up and you snicker. "Whomping Willow leaves?"

The comment earns you a look from the brown-haired boy.

The first to get up to the surface is Fleur ─ who didn't finish her task ─ next is Krum, followed by Cedic. At the last minute, Harry shoots up out of the lake and lands on the platform. The crowd goes wild and you jump up and down, happy that Harry is safe and well.

The task ends with Victor getting the most points and Fleur the least, but the winners are Harry and Cedic.

There is this restlessness in your body, going down all the way to your core. You've been tossing and turning for hours and flipped your pillow over too many times. With a huff, you sit up and decide that you are not going to do this any longer.

You swing your legs off your bed and scramble ─ as quietly as you can as not to disturb the peace of your sleeping roommates ─ for your sneakers and make your way out of the Slytherin common room.

It's quiet when you roam the halls. Of course, it is, it's after curfew after all.

Something in you tells you that something is coming. It festers deep within your soul, twirling and whizzing around. It makes you anxious.

Hearing steps coming from the hallway adjacent to yours, you swiftly hide in an alcove. You suck in your breath in the hope to appear as a shadow. You release it once you see it's Harry that's passing by.

"Harry!", you whisper, making the boy turn his head. His stance relaxes as soon as he sees it's you, and he slides his wand back into his pocket.

"What are you doing out of bed?", he whispers back in the same tone as you walk next to him.

You shrug. "I couldn't sleep. Again. You?"

Harry looks at the ground, searching for the right words. You grab his wrist as a sign he can tell you.

"Barty Crouch is killed. I found him in the forest while walking with Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione. Turns out, Crouch's son was a Death Eater and responsible for torturing Neville's parents."

You hold a hand over your mouth in shock. "Oh, poor Neville. Does he know?"

"No. At least - I don't think so."

You frown. It was never a question of why you felt remorse for the boy. It was your mother after all that tortured the Longbottoms to the point that they are now. And, in your opinion, it's far crueller to leave a boy behind with parents that don't remember him than to leave behind an orphan.

As the two of you pass a hallway filled with portraits, arguing voices cut through the silence of the night before a door flies open and reveals Professor Snape and Professor Karkaroff ─ who has his sleeve pulled up and revealed his dark mark, which slowly grows more intense.

"It's a sign, Severus. You know what it means as well as I."

Karkaroff snaps his head towards the two of you and angrily storms off, sneering.

Giving each other a wide-eyed look, the both of you decide it's for the best to just continue walking. But Snape has other ideas.

"Potter! Black! What is your hurry?"

You sigh and turn around, not daring to look at Snape's harsh glare.

But the Professor's attention is focused on the boy next to you. "Congratulations. Your performance in the Black Lake was inspiring. Gillyweed, am I correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Ingenious. Run along, Black, you mustn't be caught roaming the halls after curfew."

You nod, giving Harry a sorry look before you get house points deducted for whatever Snape is irritated with.

As you round the corner, you know what you have to do. There is no denying that something is going to happen, with the Dark Mark on Karkaroff's arm and the uneasy feeling in your bones. You have to go to Dumbledore. To at least report to him, as you promised.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @pietrobae @literallyobessed @vanishingcherry @lestat-whore @harrysnovia

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andthendk · 2 years

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Damirae Week 2022: (Day 1) League of Assassins

▶️ Directly inspired by ViLaVi’s fic ‘Feather Collection’ chap. Nanda Parbat on AO3!! (Surprise surprise, I love that chap with my dear life can’t @ tag for some reason ugh) The archery scene stuck with me, what can I say 😂

▶️ LoA is always a fun AU because of all the different ways it can be interpreted! Are they gonna conquer mankind together? Save the world from themselves? Build a kingdom? We may never know haha Plus, darkness & gold is damn hot?? 🤣 It’s also the one of the VERY few comic versions of Damian we have as an adult which makes it easier for me to draw - except that I struggle with Raven’s potential design 🥲 This one is by far the best I’ve come up with, kinda like how it came out!

#damiraeweek #damiraeweek2022 #damirae #raven #damian wayne #teen titans #rachel roth #dc #my art #demonbirds #robin #fanart #damian al ghul #damian x raven #dcamu #dc comics #my otp #league of assassins #😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥

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whoopssteddiefeels · 1 year

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Birds of a Feather

In which Robin tries to buy weed for Steve, and finds more than she bargained for in one Eddie Munson.

Robin was hovering by the tree line outside the school, trying to work up the courage to buy some weed. Her internal monologue was amped up with anxiety, spinning around in a way that had her muttering out loud to herself. "Come on Buckley, you fought Russian soldiers, a high school drug dealer should not be a problem."

Starcourt had happened fast though, and never felt like a choice. This was deliberate and felt much more real somehow. Fighting a Russian conspiracy under the mall that involved people with superpowers? Insane. Buying weed off Eddie "The Freak" Munson? Plausible. Illegal. Suspension or expulsion potential.

But then she thought of Steve. Mostly healed, but still sensitive to light with occasional crippling headaches. His refusal to see a doctor (How am I going to answer when they ask exactly how I was injured, Rob?). The way the dark circles under his eyes never really left, the permanent exhaustion that let her know he definitely wasn't sleeping. Weed was supposed to be good for sleep, right? And maybe Eddie had something for pain too. She wouldn't be able to afford that, but Steve might, so long as it didn't have any dissociative components. No need to trigger truth serum flashbacks. Ugh, she was going to have to ask questions, and give reasons, because she didn't know exactly what she was doing, or what she wanted. This was going to be unbelievably uncomfortable.

She clutched the strap of her backpack and began stomping through the woods towards the infamous picnic table, fall leaves crunching underfoot. It came into view through the trees quickly, the "woods" by the school being more of a small cluster of trees no one had bothered to cut down than anything approaching an intentional wooded area. The sky overhead was a slate grey, but it was still very light out, leaving the whole scene appearing two-dimensional for lack of shadows.

A metal lunchbox sat ominously on what appeared to be an abandoned, slowly rotting picnic bench. Telltale signs of teenage delinquency were littered around, beer cans, cigarette butts, broken glass and bits of paper. The picnic table wasn't abandoned though, as she stomped closer, she noticed the long legs sprawled parallel to the far bench, straddling it. One ringed hand was dangling in a similar position, just off the ground, and a small tell-tale plume of smoke was rising from where she assumed his head was laid on the bench. "You sound like a damn elephant, you know that?" a voice drawled, but Eddie lost none of his relaxed posture. At least, not until she spoke.

"You're not exactly Mr. Twinkle-toes yourself, I'm shocked the lunch tables don't break under your feet."

The boy slowly sat up with the faint jingle of chains, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, leaves clinging to the bottom of his curls where they had brushed the ground. She was clearly not who he had expected. He pulled the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips away with two fingers and simultaneously flicked the ashes off the end and exhaled another cloud of smoke.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

"I uh... I mean... when you do your whole, rant thing, y'know? With the..." Robin gesticulated wildly, trying to encompass Eddie's usual theatricality. Smooth, Buckley. She dropped her hands back to her bag’s shoulder strap, wringing it nervously. "I uh... heard you sell. Drugs, I mean. Is that weird to say?"

The confused brow wrinkle was quickly replaced with a soft smile and a chuckle, a very different look from the manic grin she had seen in the cafeteria. To be fair, she was usually trying to not make eye contact with anyone drawing attention to themselves like that. "Not weird to say, since it's true. What can I do for you...?" he paused and gestured at her with the hand still holding the cigarette, clearly inviting an introduction.

"Robin... Buckley. I, uh, play trumpet?" she mimed her instrument of choice, then winced and tried not to kick herself for that idiotic move.

Eddie just continued to smile softly at her, large eyes a little too wide, shoulders a little hunched in on himself. "Eddie Munson." he offered "I play guitar," and he mimed a tiny air guitar solo.

"Right. So...." she clambered onto the bench opposite Eddie, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of smoke that wafted up from the still lit cigarette in his hand and off his hair and clothes. She wasn't successful, obviously, if him putting it out a second later was any indication. Then again, it could just be a coincidence since his next move was to the drag the lunchbox between them.

"So." he agreed, clasping his hands together and resting his chin on top. So far this was not what she had expected. Munson always seemed... loud, off kilter. Manic to the point of being a little scary. She supposed those descriptions might also apply to her, but where she tried to control it, he always seemed to lean in. Embraced being weird in a way she might envy if it didn't give her severe secondhand embarrassment to witness. Here, he seemed quiet and relaxed. Soft, with big eyes and a small smile contrasting with the angry zombie on his t-shirt under the denim and leather. There was something familiar in his mannerisms. Something she couldn't quite place.

"Here's the thing, and I'm sure you hear this all the time, but I’m not lying, it's not actually for me. Like really, it's not. I feel like I might be unbearable high, actually, like- anyway. Yeah, so this friend of mine has had... well, multiple knocks to the head. And the trauma is... not... all physical? Like we worked together at Starcourt, and the fire was... something. So, I guess what I'm asking is what would you take for light sensitivity, and also intense headaches, but also inability to sleep because of nightmares and ALSO isn't dissociative because... yeah. Just nothing dissociative."

Eddie blinked at her, face unchanged other than slightly wider eyes and slight furrow between his eyebrows. He seemed to be waiting for her to take a breath before responding, so she did. "That's a lot of “alsos.”"

"Yeah."

He sighed, but then leaned back and popped open the lip of the lunchbox in an obviously practiced motion. Eyes darting back and forth, biting his lower lip lightly in what she hoped was thought.

"Not to talk myself out of a sale here, but it honestly sounds like he needs a doctor. Possibly several."

"Yeah, I've told him that, but he refuses to go and I'm tired of watching him be in pain and tell me it's fine," she threw air quotes up around the last word. Steve's martyr complex was something else, honestly.

"Well as long as you give your boyfriend that disclaimer..." Eddie was rooting around in the lunchbox, but his eyes flicked up to her face and his slight frown morphed into a wide grin that lit up his whole face at her expression. "Okay, not boyfriend?"

She probably should be more subtle, but Robin couldn't help the disgusted face she was making. Why did everyone assume she and Steve were dating? It was gross. "Emphatically not."

Eddie's eyes darted up and down a few times, running over her face and outfit, rapidly. He seemed suddenly nervous, and she had a terrible sinking feeling in her gut that he was about to ask her out. She was trying to work out the nicest complete refusal that would still let her purchase some weed when he went back to staring into the lunchbox, one hand tapping a rhythm on the table while the other extracted a plastic bag with plant matter in it. He seemed to come to a decision, and she braced, when he said "Hey, I wouldn't be able to resist Harrington in that sailor outfit."

She was gaping. She should definitely close her mouth. It did not need to be open for her to do the rapid mental math. There were rumors that Munson was gay, but there were also rumors he kept repeating his senior year on purpose to find vulnerable freshmen to sacrifice to Satan. She had barely been sure that he actually dealt, people said so many wild things.

Also how did he know she was talking about Steve? Though… in retrospect the two of them were pretty inseparable these days. He drove her to school daily, and she had mentioned she worked with the person in question. Ok maybe it was obvious she had been talking about Steve.

Eddie was looking up at her through his bangs, clearly nervous, and she suddenly thought of the bathroom floor and a prolonged silence on the other side of the wall. "Hang on, I'm just judging your taste in outfits, not men. We both looked ridiculous. Absolutely embarrassing."

"You say that like it wasn't part of the attraction." The wide grin had returned, though he quickly hid it behind a lock of hair pulled across his face. Cute. Why had she thought he was scary?

She scrunched her nose up at him anyway. "Gross. That's gross. Men are gross."

"Yeah, I got that opinion from your boots." He waved the small plastic bag at her. "Anyway, sounds like his majesty has a lot going on, but he can certainly start with weed. His old friend Tommy used to buy off me, so I know he's smoked before. Should at least help with sleep and doesn't really have any side effects so it shouldn't fuck up his head any more than it already is."

"How much?" she asked, down to business, rummaging in her backpack for cash.

"For you? $10, but that's the Friends of Dorothy discount. If Harrington asks, it's $20."

"That's an insane upsell."

"Beggars can't be choosers, and I’m really the only game in town. Plus, that's not including the jock hazard rate, since if he's friends with you and those freshmen in my club, he can't be that bad."

"He's a dingus, but he's kind of my dingus at this point."

Eddie blinked once, exchanging the bag for her cash. "He definitely knows you're not dating, right?"

"Steve? Oh, he knows about me. There was a whole-" she paused, trying to figure out what part of that story was actually relatable according to the novel-length NDA, and came up blank, "...thing. Platonic with a capital P."

He gave her a little half smile. "Maybe Dustin is less naive than I thought then. He practically waxes poetic about the dude. He’s his hero." Eddie clasped his hands together, her cash between them, fluttering his eyelids dramatically at the sky. There was the Eddie she was more familiar with.

Shoving the baggie into her backpack, she moved to get up. "That kid is too smart for his own good most of the time. And... also a little naive. Just not about Steve."

He nodded, agreeing easily, and then looked like he’d suddenly remembered something important. "Remind me to introduce you to Tiffany sometime, by the way."

She immediately tripped over the bench, catching herself before she went sprawling, but had to scoop her backpack and its new illegal contents off the ground. Had he waited for her to be off balance on purpose? She slowly backed away, doing a fair impression of a goldfish. That was... out of left field. Tiffany? Did she know a Tiffany? Did he? "That's.... yeah. Definitely. Sure. Yes. How do you know... I mean I've never seen any girls in your club."

"She's not in Hellfire, but she's around. Birds of a feather, Buckley." He winked cheekily, performative grin back in place.

"Sure, sure. Makes sense." It did not make sense. If Eddie was implying what she thought he was, there were in fact other lesbians at Hawkins High, and he knew them just because he was also gay. Of course there were other lesbians, statistically there would be, but how did he know? How. Why. Was there some sort of memo, and why hadn't she gotten one?

"If you need anything else, or I guess if King Steve wants to call on the local jester, you know where to find me." He saluted and flopped back onto the bench, like she had never been there.

Eddie Munson. She wasn't sure how she felt about that interaction, retreating through the woods, but it wasn’t bad. It was nice, actually. Something in her chest glowed warmly with the knowledge that she wasn't the only queer person she knew anymore. She'd have to take better notice of him this year, it was his third senior year, he could probably use all the friends he could get. Plus, she might be able to spot this “Tiffany.”

She jogged down the hill to the waiting BMW, trying to decide what exactly, if anything, to tell Steve.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #robin buckley pov #robin buckley #eddie munson #gay eddie munson #steddie but only if you squint #their potential friendship is important to me #eddie munson has good gaydar #I made tiffany up but i think i heard that name in a fic somewhere and internalized it so now she exists

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suzie-shooter · 17 days

Text

Alex Rider season 3 unhinged liveblog ramblings scribbled during first watch. Spoilers, obvs. (also fair warning, I am not particularly a fan of Tom or Kyra lol)

Episode 1 - Widow

S2 recap trivia - Alex's therapist is Molly Doran from Slow Horses and married to Alan Blunt IRL

Malta: Ok, so we're not just going to pretend it's Venice lol.

Creepy old men already hitting on Alex. Standard.

"After this we're out of leads." How do you even have any leads in the first place? Oh ok, Smithers' phone. Terrible security protocols from him, leaving that much historical classified data on it.

"Find the Widow - surely he could have given you an address?" First thing Tom's ever said I've agreed with lmao

Aaaand within a second he's back to being deeply irritating, okay.

Yassen living rent free in Alex's head, you love to see it.

"They've got this picture of me being the responsible one." Have Tom's parents actually met him?

Ooh Razim mention.

You maybe want to clean that wound before whacking a dressing on it Alex?

"Do you think you'll ever lose your appetite Nile?" Spat my drink.

Damn, no harem pants then. Scrubs up well tho.

Listing Levin in the opening credits than having him be only a S2 flashback should be a warcrime.

Episode 2 - Lab

"This weapon is called pork sword, wait, no, shit, wrong USB."

"Julia Rothman. Definitely a wrong un." Spat my drink again.

Do Crawley and Pritchard not warrant helmets and visors? Are they somehow immune to shrapnel?

So, room 6, wired to blow, yes? It's what I'd do…

Oh yeah sure guys, they're going to still be sitting there, all unmoving in the dark, for sure that's a person, and not a Massive Trap.

Thereeeee we go. Agent mince. Top of your class huh, well you're certainly at the top now, and down the sides and partially out of the window.

I know there's the whole 'characters don't know what genre they're in' thing but you are literally in the 'working for MI6 genre', you are up against people notorious for booby traps and blowing shit up, why the fuck would you touch something that hadn't been declared safe first? Apart from anything else you're fucking up the scene before forensics get there.

"I love you man." Vom.

Alex: breaks into super sekkrit lab. Also Alex: doesn't have the faintest fucking idea what he's looking at, so not really helpful.

COMICALLY LARGE BOMB KLAXON.

Episode 3 - Enemy

"Welcome to Malagosto." OooOOooh.

Maybe I'm just looking at it from a fic writer's perspective but it does seem a massive anticlimax to immediately let Tom and Kyra know Alex is okay? Like, you could have got a good couple of episodes of angst out of that uncertainty.

"Do you want me to kill them?" Oh God yes please.

Why the fuck have they plugged the USB directly into the network rather than an isolated PC? 'Hur dur we checked it first', you literally believe Scorpia are smart enough to not be bluffing about the nebulous death threat but you don't think they could hide something on the hardware? Fuck's sake lads. Amateur hour.

Is this Home Secretary meant to be Suella Braverman? Or Priti Patel maybe lol. (Equal rights and all that, and if it had been a white male character I don't think I would have thought twice about the dialogue but having both your two new female characters be immediately proved wrong/ massively patronised/ blown up ain't hugely comfortable viewing tbh).

HOW MANY FICS INVOLVING ALEX GETTING FUCKED ON THAT BED HAVE JUST BEEN BORN?

"Are you suggesting we break into a dead man's house?" "It's not like he's going to be there." 😂

"He became a very close friend of mine." Fnar.

Omg making Alex read his father's love letters is hilarious.

Alex: you could have faked that news report Also Alex: handwriting can definitely never be faked (how is Alex even familiar with his dead father's handwriting? wouldn't recognise mine)

Ugh please stop trying to make Alex/Kyra happen.

Alex up the vent shaft. I hope they're sitting casually at the top going - you could have just taken the stairs love.

If he's climbing upwards, why is his hair dangling like he's upside down? Have they filmed this like 60's Batman, and he's just crawling along a horizontal set lol.

Alex never once asks about his mother does he. Given the shagger-John route they seem to have gone down you almost think Julia would be in a better shout of getting Alex to switch sides by claiming to be his mother.

And - yeah, Alex's recruitment just doesn't feel that convincing here. Adding Tom/Kyra/Jack so much to the mix has changed the feel of his life a lot, and TV verse Alex has had a lot less fucking over by the Department by this point too. And Rothman feels too creepy to be effectively convincing him of anything.

"I want you to meet your tutor." FUCK YES FINALLY 🙌 (may have rewound that part several times lol)

Episode 4 - Recruit

Nicaragua: 18 years ago OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING

Baby Yassen is adorable, I'm in love.

OH MY GOD THAT'S SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE FUCKIN SPIDER THING

OH MY GOD THE REVEAL OF HIM STANDING OVER THE SLEEPING ALEX I'M DEAD

(Ok, I'm calm again. For now. We continue.)

"You killed my uncle" - all the hundreds of ways this conversation has been written over the years and Yassen's just like lol get over it 😂 (here for it tbh)

Rothman: He's one of our best Yassen: One of? Bitch.

Yassen watching Alex train like 👀👀

"Did he ever tell you you're no fun?" Oh you want to have FUN with Yassen do you?

Yassen bitchslapping Alex to fuck, both hilarious and hot.

Oh, you want to be WET wet.

"Matteo's the guy with the blanket." Why is that so funny.

Omg Yassen stepping in to protect his boy and humiliating Nile in the process lol. And Alex doing what Yassen tells him, because of course he does 🥰

"This one is my responsibility" 🥰🥰

"What about love, friendship?" Alex has only known Yassen five minutes and is already down bad.

"Kind of lonely though, right?" Yeah, Yassen needs you at his side Alex, so step up and stop being a whiny little bitch about killing people.

Never get in the first taxi, rule one of espionage.

Yep, called it. Tom's like: I'll have my fucking tip back in that case.

This scene is so dark I have no fucking idea what's going on, I thought Nile had attacked Alex, but apparently not. Is Nile officially part of this exercise or not, it seems really unclear lol.

The power of friendship and sparklerabbits saves the day, apparently. Yawn.

Jesus, we really ATE with this ep, huh.

Episode 5 - Revenge

"Would you rather your arms around me, or my arms around you?" Way to make it creepy Tom you skeevy fuck.

"Can we focus please?" "We're multi-tasking."

Sure Grendel, rock up to the super sekkrit spy base in a massively conspicuous car why don't you?

"Yassen will give you everything you need." Oh I BET he will.

Feels sloppy them not removing the diffuser from the vent tbh.

"What does this say?" Alex hasn't inherited John's neat handwriting then lol. Alex leaning into him like that > me making noises only dogs can hear.

"You've put lockpick?" "I left my last one in Nile."

Ooh, suicide pill, nasty. Kind've pointless though, given they've been left with the evidence anyway.

Yassen in Alex's bedroom again, likely place for him to be.

"I don't want you to fail. I don't want you to die." 🥹💕🥰

Yalex roadtrip, let's goooo.

Disappointed they're not making Alex do the Entrapment infrared acrobatic sequence here lol.

If this is Yassen's idea of a date it definitely needs work.

So no surprise scorpions then? Can't have shit in Detroit Malta.

"Why? Why did she kill him?" Well taking things at face value here he was a highly murderous member of a terrorist organisation, so you know, kind've her job.

Yassen does like a casual lean, doesn't he.

Episode 6 - Target

Alex and Yassen have shacked up in London, hope there's only one bed.

Now they're in the back of a van, SO many opportunities for shagging, they're spoilt for choice.

Yassen's impressed look when Alex reels off all the security details, so proud of his boy.

"What happened to my mum?" Finally he wonders lol.

"And I'm good at it. You could be too." 🥹

"You think Alex killed him?" I mean, he was also there with a notorious assassin, so probably not, y'know.

Domestic Yassen cooking Alex's dinner and also cooking him a gun lol.

Smithers' "How I've missed you" ahahaha. Smithers/Kyra much better pairing tbh.

"He's actually quite good at this stuff." Smithers' little snort lmao

Time for Alex to be blacked up/ dunked in a teabag bath/ gussied up. Although he still looks exactly like Alex afterwards, which feels less useful lol.

"You love him, don't you?" Yassen loves him more. I have to say Alex had far more chemistry with Syl, and frankly for that matter with Tom. I really don't get the Kyra agenda.

"It's a dry hole." Alex's worst nightmare.

Is Alex going to look through Mrs Jones' knicker drawer?

Episode 7 - The Shot

Mrs Jones and her tall murderous hobbit son lol. Otto really looks about 58 here.

Hope they bill him for her fucked up fridge.

Is that Bath? Oh, it is.

Mrs Jones casually throwing Alex back into play lol. Maybe she can have a little revenge for him trying to shoot her.

"Everyone breaks into houses." Jack's face lol

Ewww put him down, you don't know where he's been (Yassen's bed, almost certainly)

"Remember they can't hurt you unless you invite them in." "That's vampires."

Yassen arguing in favour of going to rescue Alex MY HEART

"Sit down. I'm going to tell you a story. About your friend, John Rider." HOLY PLOTHOLE TIMELINE PATCHING BATMAN

"John was embedded inside Scorpia for three years." Not the only thing he was embedded in by the sounds of it.

Alex seems to be hallucinating again lol.

Yassen, maybe psychoanalysing your insane boss isn't the safest thing to be doing?

"It's quite mad Julia." Yassen really gives no shits omfg

"I know my place." Yes, at Alex's side.

I like how Julia thought telling Yassen she'd killed John would do anything other than piss him off lol.

Episode 8 - Invisible Sword

"But you do owe me a new fridge." LOLLLLLL

Crawley feeling like a spare part during this lift convo, hahaha

"Smithers, you can do me some kind of tracker, right?" "Yeah, if you promise to keep it on you this time."

Alex is like ohshit I'm gonna die fr

"Not for the agents. They undid their seatbelts." Eyyyyyyyy 👉

Aww they've given him a little baby assassin outfit, how cute.

Where's Yassen, has he just fucked off to the pub?

"For the head of Scorpia, you're a really bad liar."

Laughing at all the other Scorpia agents having to listen to this convo about their boss like we are not paid enough for this shit 😬

"Everyone else is getting what they want, let me have my cereal."

Protecting his boy to the last. Yassen really is purely on Alex's side, we love to see it.🥰

And OMG HE LIVESSSSSSSS 🙌🙌🙌🙌 (I voted yes in that poll, I had faith lol)

Well that was - far more fanservice than I dared hope for, after the meagre pickings we got in the first two series. Yalex supremacy to the motherfucking end, let's go.

#alex rider #alex rider spoilers #alex rider season 3 #yalex

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