#And that she still said what she said knowing how much it weighed reads very much as projection to me

[bau-muffin]

“It’s All Wrong But It’s Alright”

Summary: You and Aaron Hotchner have an interesting relationship. He’s your boss, and you’re one of the agents underneath him.

What happens when you get triggered during a case, and comforting you leads to something more?

Word count: 6,006

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Reader

Read it on AO3

mentions: SA, CSA, it’s implied that reader has a history of CSA, oral sex, fingering

Hotch knew as well as anybody that this case would emotionally weigh heavy on the team, maybe even more than it usually did.

They had successfully apprehended Monica Menzel and her sixteen year old son Jacob, but certainly not before uncovering disturbing details that would more than likely haunt the team for the rest of their lives.

The victims, all of them, were below the age of nine. There were no preferences in boys or girls or hair color, not even eye color, but they were all tortured and sexually assaulted in the same exact way, and then their bodies disposed of and covered with a tarp, as though in remorse. As it turned out, Jacob was losing control and abusing these children while Monica disposed of them quietly.

It made Hotch doubt whether good in humanity ever existed, especially when he thought of Jack waiting at home for him to come back so he could tell him all of the shenanigans he had gotten up to at his Aunt Jessica’s and regale him with the details of classroom drama.

And, he figured, the rest of the team were thinking similar thoughts, their minds all engulfed with the children in their lives and how it only takes a split second for every sense of safety to become compromised.

But as the team left the precinct, neatly separated into SUVs, and caravanned back to the hotel, Hotch looked over at you in the passenger seat and wondered who you were thinking of. When he had opened the door for you, you’d sat down and not even murmured a “thank you,” like you usually did, instead looking as though you were a million miles away. He knew something was turning inside your head. It didn’t take a profiler to see it.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he flipped up the blinker to make a turn.

“I’m exhausted,” you replied, almost too quickly. “We’ve been up and at it with this case since five this morning, and I didn’t sleep very well last night. Probably didn’t get more than three hours

in total.”

When Garcia had booked hotel rooms for you guys, she disclosed that since the town was at the peak of tourist season, she couldn’t book enough rooms for everybody to have a room of their own; which meant that two agents would have to take one for the team and share. You and Hotch had drawn the short straws, but despite being a subordinate and superior sharing a room, it hadn’t been awkward at all. You each had a double bed and made yourselves at home.

Still, he was all too aware that you had tossed and turned into the wee hours of the morning, and more than ever he wished he could have assuaged whatever was bothering you.

“Was the bed uncomfortable for you?” Hotch asked casually, his eyes still on the road.

“Not at all. I was just… thinking, is all. You know how it can be.”

He nodded solemnly, his lips forming a solid line. “I do know.”

You hummed an affirmative noise before turning to look outside the window, though there wasn’t much to look at since it was already almost dark and most of the street lights were still off.

Hotch wished you would open up to him. Heck, even before, you didn’t mind opening up to him, even just a little. But now it was like a barrier loomed around you and your thoughts, forbidding anyone who dared approach.

“For most of this case, I found myself thinking of Jack,” he confided, glancing over at you.

“Yeah? I don’t doubt it. Having kids when you’re in this line of business… it can’t be easy.” For a moment, your tone sounded open and concerned, and he sensed your eyes on his side profile.

“It’s not at all,” Hotch said quietly with his eyes still on the road ahead of him. “It makes me wish I could take Jack somewhere and hide him away from the ugly side of humanity. But… I’m all too aware that’s not feasible, nor is it healthy. So, we persevere together, and all I can hope to do is guide him until he’s ready to step out into the world on his own.”

“I imagine he’s already seen too much of how ugly humanity can be,” you said gently.

“He has. There’s no hiding it from him now,” he admitted softly.

“Once you’ve seen it, heard it… you can’t go back from it. Even that young.”

Something in your voice made him glance your way intensely. Was it… wistfulness? Melancholy?

It was quiet for a few moments as he focused on driving while you turned back to the window and continued staring out. He figured he couldn’t force you to confide in him, so he may as well give you space, but he was still worried; probably more than he’d like to confess.

As soon as you entered the hotel room, you beelined straight for your suitcase. “I’m going to take a shower first, if that’s alright with you?”

Hotch nodded as he began plugging up his devices on his side of the shared side table. “Perfectly fine with me. It’ll give me time to call Jack before we settle down for the night. Take your time.”

You began gathering up your clothes and necessities and toted them to the bathroom, the door closing behind you softly. Hotch had never wanted to wiggle his way into your brain more and find out what was going on in there.

He’s always known you had a soft spot for children, and he was first hand testament to it, just witnessing how you’d interacted with Jack every time Jessica brought him by the BAU for a visit or when he would bring Jack for an event at Rossi’s—you’d always taken time to ask him how school was, you’d ask about some project or another he had told you about before, and often times you’d reach out to ruffle his hair fondly. When he had read up on your files during the hiring process, he also learned you had nieces and nephews, and from how you spoke of them, you seemed to love them and had a good relationship with them; probably a tad bit protective, especially considering what you’d seen on this job.

But something about the way you were withdrawing and reserved now suggested this was personal, much more personal than you wanted to let on.

Still, Hotch felt like it was none of his business, and picked up his phone to call Jack.

By the time he finished an exuberant conversation with his son and Jessica, Hotch heard your blow dryer running. (you always kept an extra blow dryer in your go bag. Derek once suggested you take it out to have more room for clothes, and Hotch thought you’d form daggers with your eyeballs and throw them at him. (Derek never brought it up again.)

Fifteen minutes later, you walked in with your dirty clothes and stuffed them into a mesh bag in your go bag; and Hotch felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

He hardly ever saw you dressed this casually. Your hair was down, fluffy at the crown from blow drying it, and wearing a large oversized t-shirt and shorts, as well as colorful fuzzy socks on your feet. But your face—it made him stop cold. Your eyelashes were wet with freshly shed tears, your eyes were rimmed with redness, and your cheeks were spackled with flush.

Hotch said your name, but he was interrupted.

“Hotch… just—hold me,” you said pleadingly, your voice cracking slightly.

Wordlessly, Hotch opened up his arms to you while he was sitting on the bed, and you fell into him, burying your head into his chest while your body spasmed with sobs.

He didn’t even care if you got snot on his dress shirt. Whatever comfort you needed that he could afford you, he wanted to give it to you. A washable shirt was nothing compared to the weight you seemed to be holding inside.

Soothingly, Hotch rubbed your back while his chin rested on your head and whispered, “Hey, hey.”

You continued sobbing, and tentatively his hand moved up to your hair, stroking it softly. Soon, the shaking and spasming ceased, and you just leaned into him, and the first breath you exhaled seemed like it released twenty pounds of burden from you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently, his hand roving politely over your back. He couldn’t help but think about how the cotton shirt under his hand was the only thing separating him from your skin; probably just as soft and gently dewy if your face was any indicator, but he pushed it away as soon as the thought came—now was not the time.

You were quiet for a moment.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Hotch said quietly, “but I know that talking about it… it can help, getting it out in the open.”

“I don’t want to burden you, Hotch. This case was heavy for all of us,” you all but whispered, almost muffled by his shirt.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed you shutting down after a case. Especially pertaining to child abuse. I’ll respect your privacy, but you need to know you don’t have to bear this on your own.”

You chewed your lip as tears threatened to spill over again, contemplating your options. Lie to your boss and evade the question? Pretend everything was okay? Maybe tell him you’re emotional because you’re on your period?

Finally, you lifted your head away from his chest and looked at him. It was almost breathtaking how much comfort and care you found in Hotch’s face, and it sent a shiver down your back as the kindness in his warm brown eyes melted you.

“Hotch…”

“Aaron,” he urged softly, “call me Aaron. Don’t you think we might be beyond work nicknames now?”

“Aaron,” you tested out the name on your tongue like a foreign object as your tone lowered, “I… I have a history with…. sexual abuse.”

“It’s not in your file,” Hotch said, concern creasing his face, and a little bit of his professionalism seeping in.

You shook your head. “It wouldn’t be. I had it sealed away.”

“But-“

“I knew it would affect how people, especially employers in our field, would look at me, Hotch,” you said, “especially as a woman. I… I’m considered weaker emotionally, at least from the stereotypical level anyways. Swimming with this upstream in my public record would’ve held me back. I hold up, and I save my breakdowns for when I get home. And in my defense, this is only the second one I’ve had since I started working at the BAU.”

Hotch looked at you, his brows slightly furrowed. “That… makes sense. But I still wish you had told me- or at least one of us- about this. We could have helped you reach out to resources. You… didn’t deserve to carry all of this by yourself, especially when you know your cases might trigger you.”

“It’s taken me a while to trust anybody with this,” you said softly.

He’s silent for a moment, his hand stilling while it was smoothing your hair. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you every day in the field with my life, Hotch.”

“Aaron,” he reminded you, “You do. But… do you trust me with your past?”

“Yes,” you murmured.

Silence fell between you as you both seemed to become aware of what was happening in that moment.

Your head was on his chest, as it moved up and down with every breath. One of his hands was in your hair while the other was resting on your back. Your hands were splayed on his shoulders. His lips were only mere inches from the crown of your head. Your legs were resting between his. You were in his arms and the shiver of sadness that came with crying was being chased away by the warmth of them around you.

The temptation on Hotch’s part to kiss your head, your nose, your lips, it was almost surmountable. But he didn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability, or his position as your superior. He couldn’t do that to you.

So, you did what any subordinate would spontaneously do when they’re a little fatigued by his politeness- you reached up and kissed his face, only missing the corner of his mouth by half of an inch.

He said your name almost in a gasp.

It was such a simple thing, but it shifted the world underneath you both.

“I’m your superior,” Hotch reminded as much to himself as to you, “we can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“You’re emotionally vulnerable right now. I’m your boss and you’re my subordinate, so there’s also a power imbalance. And I- I’m so much older than you. You could have any man you want, you don’t have to settle for me.” His voice cracked almost minutely when he mentioned settling, but you heard it.

You scoffed as you lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not settling, Aaron. I don’t know who told you that nonsense, but no one is settling by… by being with you. And… I may be emotionally vulnerable, yes,” you admitted before your tone turned soft, “but I’ve… I’ve been wanting this for a long time.”

Hotch felt surprise jolt through him and he tried to lean up a little more even with you on top of him, though his hand still cradled the small of your back. “Oh, really?”

“Are you really so surprised?”

“You’re just…” he struggled to find the right way to say what he meant, “you could have anybody you want, you know? I’m a middle aged man headed towards being over the hill, with emotional baggage, and a young son.”

“You’re also emotionally constipated,” you said with a small smile tugging your lips.

He chuckled quietly, and you felt the vibration of it from his chest. “Is that supposed to convince me?”

“It means I’m aware of your shortcomings, Hotch. Or what others may view as shortcomings.”

There was another beat of silence, then things started moving like a whirlwind.

He rolled you over so that you were underneath him, and his nose rubbed the side of your face as he lowered his mouth to your ear. “You really need to start calling me Aaron during these intimate times, don’t you think?”

You gulped as you looked up at him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Hotch asked quietly, “I would feel… so guilty if you ended up… regretting this later. It’s okay to take a bit longer to think about it.”

There was a hint of passion in your voice as you tilted your chin up to him. “You don’t know how long I have been thinking about this, Aaron Hotchner.”

That lit a fire in him that he didn’t know he had a wick for, and his hands slid over the sides of your face as he tilted your head up towards him, inspecting the flush that had formed on your cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful. I’ve always been aware of it, did you know that?”

You opened your mouth to answer, and he covered your lips with his own, feasting on you like a man starved. It wasn’t long before his tongue asked entrance, and you granted it, his tongue grazing against yours.

You weren’t sure how you expected Hotch to kiss. Passionately? Without a doubt. Fervently? Definitely. But you didn’t realize “reverently” and “frenzied” were adjectives that could be used together, and yet it was perfect.

You hadn’t realized you were doing it, but you were grinding against him, his slacks rubbing against the cotton of your shorts, eliciting moans from him that you’d never heard before, but felt like music to your ears as it sent a shiver down your spine. In response, his hands slid to your breasts, his thumb rubbing against your nipples through your thin T-shirt in gentle circles as the rest of his hands cupped your breasts.

“Someone didn’t wear a bra,” Hotch said almost cheekily.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to get felt up tonight,” you laughed.

“I suppose not. You really are beautiful, you know that? And seeing you under me… I never thought you could get prettier, but apparently it’s possible.”

“Aaron…”

Hotch continued rubbing your nipples, gently, but with enough friction that it shot pleasure through you. “That’s right, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Aaron.”

“Do you mind doing me the honors of removing my shirt? Please?” You asked.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, kissing your forehead before he gently set about removing your shirt, shimmying it over your head before tossing it unceremoniously on the AC unit under the window.

You watched nervously as his eyes roved over your chest, almost feeling the burn of his gaze on your skin. But then he began leaning down and kissing a path from your collarbones, down to your belly button.

“Sweetheart, your breasts are magnificent,” he whispered before pressing kisses to each of them, “they’re just right for me.”

“Are you so easy to please?”

Hotch kissed your breasts again in answer, slower this time, as he nipped and sucked on the skin, leaving hickies in his wake. He chuckled to himself as he looked at his handiwork.

“I truly hope you weren’t planning on wearing a low cut shirt tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t, but I guess you eliminated that choice for me.”

He smiled, almost deviously, if you could believe he was capable of it. “You could, but I think you would have to answer some… piqued interests. But I also think… one part of you wants to show everyone, that you were marked, by me. And…” his voice lowered, “I can’t say I hate the idea of it.”

Before you could form a reply, he inched down towards your nipples and took one into his mouth, sucking on them gently. He wasn’t at all surprised when he felt your fingers thread into his hair, tugging at them the more he played with your nipple with his tongue.

Before he switched to the other nipple, he looked up at you, almost ironically puppy dog-like. “Are you enjoying this, my dove?”

“Yes,” you panted, “I’ve… I’ve never had this done to me before.”

He froze where he was. “None of your other partners did this for you?”

You shook your head.

“Amateurs,” Hotch muttered to himself before licking your nipple, wetting it.

Before long, he was back at it, sucking your other nipple, far less gentle than the way he had started, and his hand squeezing and kneading the first breast.

“Dear god-”

He completely unlatched from your breast to smirk at you. “I’m afraid God has nothing to say in this little foray.”

Impatiently, you reached up to unbutton his button up shirt feverishly, your fingers clumsily clashing into each other. Hotch chuckled at your excitement.

“You’re so cute when you’re eager,” he murmured to you, his own fingers reaching down to assist you in unbuttoning his shirt.

“Do you know how often I’ve wondered what you look like under here?” You asked as your eyes watched more and more of his chest expose.

“I’m not exactly… Derek in terms of body shape,” he confided. “And maybe at one point, I would have rivaled him. But I’m afraid my abs have… congealed a bit, especially since I became a dad.” He unbuttoned the last button.

“If you think that will deter me one bit, you have another thought coming, Mr. Hotchner,” you said sassily as you began pushing the shirt off of his shoulders. It was your turn to marvel at him and his body- his arms were toned, his chest had polite smatterings of hair and, much like Hotch in every other facet of his life, a happy trail that could only be described as neat and tidy. He was right that he wasn’t built like Derek, but in every line of him, you could tell he held incredible strength even for the average middle aged man, even if he had an adorable hint of tummy that you wanted to press kisses on. The scars from Foyet did not escape you, and you respectfully reached to trace them with your fingers, a ghost of pressure. To know that he endured that, and thrived in spite of it… you felt soft towards this stern looking man.

“You’re sure you still… want a piece of this?” He said almost awkwardly with a smile.

“If I wasn’t sure before, I know I am now,” you assured him as you kissed the underside of his jaw, “you’re beautiful.”

“I’m… beautiful?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me no one’s called you beautiful before?”

“Handsome, sure. Beautiful… no.”

“Well that’s just sad,” you pressed a kiss to one of his pecs, “because it’s the goddamn truth.”

You’d never seen him blush before, but you smirked with satisfaction when he turned red from his ears down to his neck.

“Are you ready to take this to the next level then?” Hotch asked, his hands moving down to the waistband of your shorts, playing with the drawstrings while he waited for your confirmation.

“Absolutely.”

With shaking hands, he began pulling down your shorts, tugging them down until he could discard them across the room, leaving you in your cotton underwear.

“You’re so wet already,” he said with a small smirk as his fingers touched the crotch of your underwear, hooking it to the side before ultimately deciding to just take it off entirely, as He quickly yanked it off and sling shot it.

“Those were my nice pair,” you mumbled, though you were thrilled at being completely exposed to him, feeling the crisp hotel air against you.

“I’ll buy you some more if they’re ruined,” he promised as he moved further down your body.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” Hotch said as he began rubbing your clit. You squirmed but you couldn’t stop the moan that sprang from you.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he praised you, “the noises you make are almost provocative, sweetheart.”

“You’re too good,” you said breathlessly, the tightness in your stomach overwhelming you. Hotch chuckled as he kissed the side of your neck, careful not to leave a mark, knowing you’ll still have to ride on the jet home with the rest of the team tomorrow.

“I’m not sure if that speaks well of me or poorly of the guys you’ve been with before, sweetheart, we’re just getting started here,” he deflected slightly. He continued rubbing your clit, the circular motion sending jolts of what felt like electricity through your body.

Your hands instinctively reached to the side and gripped the sheets when he began sliding a finger in tentatively, his thumb on your sensitive nerves now, keeping the circular motion going. His eyes searched yours, those eyes slightly darkened by warm lust.

“Is this good?” Hotch asked.

“God, yes,” you bit out.

He hummed a noise of acknowledgment while he slid in a second finger, emitting a moan from you.

“You’re so tight, darling,” he murmured, “am I going to need to stretch you out a little before we get to the main event?”

“It’s been a while,” you admitted.

“How long?”

“Before I moved to Quantico.”

Hotch was quiet for a moment, surprise registering on his face. “Baby, that was… at least over a year ago.”

“I’m so busy with work that I hardly have time to meander into the dating scene. Haven’t really wanted to either.”

“Maybe we could talk to your boss about that,” he said teasingly.

You were about to respond when you felt his third finger slide in, and you took a deep breath.

“That’s my good girl,” he breathed into your ear, his voice low with desire, “taking me so well while I fill you up with my fingers, and taking those deep breaths.”

His fingers pumping in and out of you made you gasp and grasp the bed sheets even tighter between your fingers. You hadn’t, in a million years, thought you would be in a position where Aaron Hotchner was between your legs, pleasuring you with his fingers. Those fingers you had studied for months, fiddling with pens while he listened to others talk, and fantasized what they could do to you. Now you were feeling it, you were finally feeling what exactly those fingers will and can do to you- and the answer was “make you feel fucking amazing.”

The combination of his fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit was too wonderful to describe. You could write a sonnet and it still wouldn’t completely encapsulate how you felt.

“I think I’m ready,” you whispered.

“Are you sure, baby?” He murmured, “we don’t have to hurry. If it’s been awhile for you, then I think we should take our time. You deserve to be completely ready and comfortable.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” you said, glancing down at where you could feel his erection against your leg. Hotch blushed slightly.

“This isn’t about me, sweetheart. This is all about you. And you make me feel good when you feel good, making all those pretty sounds for me, knowing I’m the one who makes you feel like that, and that I’m the one with my fingers in your pretty pussy.”

You shivered again, but you bit your lip as you looked down at him.

“I still need to put my mouth on you, baby. Do you want that? To feel my lips on you while my tongue finds your swollen clit?”

“I… you don’t have to, I know some guys don’t-“

“Don’t tell me you think it’s an action of sacrifice on my part,” he scoffed with a smile, “like I said before, I want to make you feel good. I would be honored to eat you out, darling.”

Your cheeks were pink from the slightly crass words. “I didn’t even know you knew-“

“Just how old do you think I am?” Hotch rolled his eyes. He gently slid his fingers out of you and you barely stifled a groan as you felt the loss.

“So do I have your permission?” He asked, kissing your neck again.

“Yes sir.”

He smirked up at you as he bent his head towards your core. “You’re calling me sir now?”

“Terrible habit.”

Feeling Hotch’s lips on you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, but the moment his tongue began lapping at your clit, rolling it around and sucking on it, you don’t know where you went. Everything melted away, and all you felt was him.

Occasionally his eyes would flit up from his task and gauge your reaction, but every time, he knew you were more than satisfied. You grasped the bed-sheets tighter still, your head tilted back as a loud moan you didn’t realize you were making left your lips.

As his tongue searched relentlessly, hitting nerves you forgot you had, your legs jerked in response. Without even looking, his hand grasped your hips, stilling them firmly.

“Oh my god-“ you groaned.

Hotch moved away from you, his lips and chin covered in your juices, but a devious smile alighted on his face. “I take it that you liked it?”

You panted a few breaths. “A little.”

“Ah, yes, a little is what got your cum all over my face- imagine if it was a lot?” he chuckled as he moved himself up your body to kiss your lips, your juices meeting your tongue.

“Aaron, I…” you hesitated for a moment. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah?”

“I think… I think I want to do this again. When we get home in Quantico. And… I want to save the… you know, actual sex, for then. In one of our actual beds. Am… am I being too presumptuous?”

He kissed your forehead. “You would’ve been a fool if you thought I was going to risk it all for a one time thing, sweetheart. Of course I want this again, you’re not being presumptuous.”

Hotch moved to climb off of her, but you grabbed him by the belt loop with a hooked finger and a raised eyebrow, emboldened by your arousal.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked.

He chuckled. “As much as I loved eating you out, I can’t live with your juice on my face, dove. And… I figured you were signaling to me that we were done for the night, so I was going to clean you up.”

“We’re not done.”

“No?” He raised an eyebrow.

She glanced pointedly at his erection, tenting his slacks.

“Oh… darling, we don’t have to-”

“I know we don’t. I want to.”

Hotch leaned back on his knees. “Darling, I-“

“I hate having to keep interrupting you, sir, but perhaps losing the slacks will help us to continue this conversation.”

He reached down for his belt buckle with a laugh. “Bossy, aren’t we?”

Within a few seconds, he had unbuckled and his slacks beside the bed. Through his boxers, the outline of his dick was prominent, and you felt your mouth salivate at the sight of it.

“You did this to me, baby,” Hotch said softly.

You blushed, still looking at him, but your hands reached for the waistband of his boxers, and inched them lower.

“Damn, sweetie, do you have a permit to conceal this large of a weapon?” you drawled as you stared eagerly at his dick, the pre-cum gathering at the tip of it as it stood tall.

He chuckled, his cheeks turning pink. “This one and a few others.”

“How do you want us to do this?”

Hotch hummed. “On your knees on the floor, sweetheart. Do you need a pillow?”

You clambered off the bed and got on your knees, waiting for him to follow suit.

He stood in front of you, almost hesitant, but the moment you gingerly grasped his dick, something in his eyes snapped into action, and his hands grasped your hair, tugging at the roots slightly.

You licked him from balls to tip, and under your touch, you could feel him shudder.

Experimentally, you swirled your tongue around the tip, then eased it into your mouth until you felt him hit your cheek

“Fuck-” Hotch rasped, his grip in your hair getting tighter, “you’re teasing me, doll.”

You looked up at him with arched eyebrows, deviousness reflecting in the glint of your eyes.

“You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? All those times we were on cases and you’d do those cute little mannerisms of yours. You’d tap your finger to your chin, or you’d part your lips when you would lift your head to look at something. Or when you would drink your coffee and widen your eyes at me over your mug. You’re just- fuck.”

Of course, that sudden expletive was because you’d mischievously pulled a bait and switch and taken him all the way to the back of your throat, opening up wider for him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed, “sweetie, you’re marvelous, I- shit.”

You looked innocently up at him, although the slight shift in movement almost made you choke.

“That will teach you, you cheeky- oh god, I don’t know how much longer I can keep…”

Ropes of cum spilled down your throat, and somehow you swallowed it all, though it took a lot of effort to do so. After it dissipated, you pulled away from him, just sitting back on your knees and looking up at the beautiful man before you, his hands in your hair. To the eye that didn’t know anything about him, he was just an average middle aged man, but to hers, before her stood a man who had been through so much, and loved and cared despite the risks involved, and whose strength was unmatched.

Hotch gently pulled you to the bed and laid you down. “I’m going to be right back, sweet thing,” he said as he kissed your forehead before going to the bathroom to retrieve wet wash rags.

Thirty minutes later found you on his chest, skin to skin, and his arms around you gently.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” You asked.

“Probably, but what?” He replied before kissing the crown of your hair.

“When you said you noticed all of the cute little mannerisms I apparently do.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating his chest under you. “Absolutely I do. I’ve noticed from the beginning, when you applied for this job and came in for an interview. You kept touching your neck when you were nervous or felt vulnerable.”

Your eyebrows collided. “You were still in the process of divorcing Haley at that time.”

“I can’t say I immediately fell in love with you at first sight,” he admitted, “but I can say I felt like I met someone I thought would be nice to have around.”

“When… did you realize you liked me in a… in a different way?”

Hotch stroked your back. “When you remembered Jack’s birthday and sent home a little present by me to him.”

“God… Hotch-“

“We just went through all of this for you to call me Hotch? Really?” He smiled cheekily.

“It’s a habit! Anyways, you… you’ve known for that long? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to cross any lines that I shouldn’t have,” he said simply.

“We’re going to have to figure out how to deal with the fallout from here, you realize that, right? And Strauss.”

“God, I didn’t think I’d hear Strauss brought up post coitus,” Hotch groaned. You laughed heartily.

“Let’s just… keep it between us. Just for now.”

“For now,” he agreed. You snuggled into his chest, and fell asleep like that.

Of course, you forgot that he left a mark on your collarbone when you had to untangle your limbs from him the next morning to pack up and get on the jet and go home. You couldn’t use the curling iron excuse, not that far down. And it was simply too hot for a turtleneck. So, before you boarded the jet, you made up your mind to gaslight everyone. And you meant everyone.

“Am I crazy or is that a hickey?” Derek pointed out when you sat across from him at the four seater, closest to the window. Hotch lifted a brow and widened his eyes at you from where he was sitting, conveniently facing you at the two seater behind Derek.

“God, Derek, don’t you know anything? This is a birthmark.”

“A… a birthmark?” Derek sounded bewildered. “Girl, I’ve known you for almost over a year now. You didn’t have a birthmark.”

“You didn’t notice? I’m almost hurt, Derek Walter Morgan.”

“That is not my real middle name, you know that, right?” Derek leaned back in his chair. “Where could you have possibly gotten any lovin’ from, hm? I know it wasn’t boss man.”

“You know, Derek is right. I don’t remember you having a birthmark,” Spencer jumped in from where he was perched on the couch across from you guys.

“Oh c’mon, Reid, like you’re the most observant person in the room!” You said with a smile.

“I know an iron burn when I see one and… sorry, but that’s not it,” Emily quipped.

“It’s just a birthmark- have you guys considered concealer exists? What’s next, you guys believe Emily naturally has berry red lips too? Gullible.”

“So… why did you leave it off today?” Rossi asked, obviously suspicious.

“I woke up late. Didn’t have time to do my makeup routine.”

This begrudgingly seemed to suffice most of the team, but Rossi was no fool, and he noticed Hotch’s t-shirt under your flannel, and winked at Hotch, who only rolled his eyes, then glanced at you, a vulnerable smitten woman among profilers.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #smut

[literaila]

admissions

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: it's midnight and satoru's bored

warnings: abandonment issues, anxiety, and gojo <3

a/n: angst tomorrow?

last part | next part

*

second year, month five.

you're sitting on your bed, reading through an old textbook that nanami gave you (for some indiscernible reason) when there's a knock on your door. 

pounding, actually. it shakes the walls and makes you jump. 

there's a distant chuckle from the other side of the door. 

no one really comes to check in on you, so this is unusual. even after living at jujutsu high for four months, you're finding it difficult to fit in. 

maybe it's the fact that you were a month late to join your classmates, maybe it's because you find yourself pushing any available person away (because of fear, or insanity, or...), or maybe it's just that you can't relate to anyone for the life of you. 

but, either way, the last person to knock on your door was yaga, who came to wake you up to go out on your second day here. 

and, it's midnight, so unless someone's dying-- 

you sigh, shaking your hair out of your face. your eyes burn from staring at the small text for so long, so you rub them, hoping that you fell asleep and this is a dream. 

it's not, apparently, because there's a second knock, much louder than the first. so you reluctantly get up and go to the door. 

you try to tip-toe across the floors, hoping that the person hellbent on speaking to you can't hear you creeping up to the peephole. 

"let me in," someone says because they have any right to demand anything of you. 

you cross your arms like he can see you, and wait. 

"y/n?" gojo whines, and there's a thud as he slumps against the door. you can almost hear him breathing. "please. it's important." 

you wait another moment, for an explanation (which is unlikely) or for him to leave (which won't happen). you should've pretended to be asleep. then, after you realize he's going to wait, you sigh and unlock the door. 

and when you open it, gojo falls right on top of you. 

"ugh," you say, pushing him off, not caring about the two seconds it takes him to regain his balance. "you're heavy." 

" i work out. i'm made of muscle." 

you roll your eyes. "what do you want?" you ask, crossing your arms. you make sure not to open the door all of the way. lord knows that gojo has a way of slipping through the cracks. 

"no one else is around," he whines, "and i'm bored." 

"okay? go step on some ants or burn down your room or something. i'm going to bed." 

you should be nicer to your classmates--the people whom you literally entrust your life with--but you can't help your hard exterior. at least you know that no one will be able to break through it if you don't let them. 

and plus, gojo kind of annoys you (and is maybe, a little bit, amusing).

gojo looks you up and down with a brow raised. how you're able to see him from behind his ridiculous sunglasses, who knows. 

he's clearly questioning your outfit and the shoes you're still wearing inside your room. it was a mistake to stay in your uniform. 

"you don't look very tired," he says, smiling at you. his face is unwrinkled and youthful. he looks like a boy and acts like a child. 

"you're terrible at reading people." 

"hey, no i'm not. i can tell you want to hang out with me." 

"can you?" 

"mm-hmm," he hums, grinning as he tries to lean forward, into your room. 

"where's suguru?" 

he gives you a skeptical look. "why do you wanna know?" 

you snort. "cause usually you'd be bothering him." 

"oh," he grins, undeterred by your insult, "he went to see his family." 

you frown. "oh." 

"and before you ask, shoko said that she's tired of me," he pouts a bit, but behind his notorious smile. gojo is an illusion of expressions. you've never seen anybody's face move so quickly, or shift so subtly. "now can i come in?" 

you weigh the cost and benefits of allowing satoru gojo to intrude on your saturday night, and how likely you'll be subjected to him in the future. (is he going to damage you if you let him in? are you going to let him break you?).

but he's leaning down so you can see the tips of his lashes, and he's smiling like he already knows your answer. 

so you sigh, hesitantly, and open the door a bit more. "don't touch any of my stuff." 

"wow," gojo says as he walks in, by-stepping you and ignoring the glare you shoot his way. "you're a terrible decorator." 

he's right. you haven't bothered to put anything up on the walls, even after almost half a year. a small part of you has been too worried that you won't be here for long. that you might die, or... 

"sorry it's not up to your standards," you roll your eyes, going back to sit on your bed and leaf through the stupid textbook again. "but, you know, luckily, you have your own room. i can show you where it is, if you forgot. we can go there now." 

"subtle," he says and messes with a couple of books on your shelf. you doubt he's going to pick one up and ruin it, so you ignore him. 

you could complain about him touching your things like you just told him not to, but it's probably not going to get you very far. plus, you don't want to say something he can laugh at. or something to make him leave. 

but after a moment, you can't help yourself. 

"why are you up, anyway?" you ask him, trying to sound more annoyed than you are. "didn't you have to leave early for a mission this morning?"

"are you keeping tabs on me?" 

"you were bragging about a 'solo' mission all through dinner last night. it was impossible not to overhear." 

gojo sighs. "i don't get a lot of sleep. it's too lonely." 

"i've heard some very interesting rumors about you and suguru's cuddling rituals." 

he grins but doesn't say anything, teasing you with just his eyes. 

after a second of it, you ask, "don't you have a family to go home to?" 

he turns to you, tilting his head, long fingers tapping along your appliances. "clans are more like... begrudged allies than families. i haven't seen my parents in..." he whistles, shaking his head. but it doesn't seem to bother him, because he shrugs after, and resumes his snooping. 

that... actually explains a lot. 

at least he's like the rest of you. 

gojo, abandoning your books--which he probably can't read--goes to sit down on your swivel chair, spinning around. "what about your family? don't you miss them?" 

you give him a tired look. "seriously? you think i don't know that you guys talk about me when i'm not around?" 

gojo bites his cheek, having the gull to not even blink, and then a reluctant smile makes its way to his lips. "who told you?" 

"haibara can't keep a secret to save his life. don't gossip around him anymore." 

he shakes his head, grinning at you again. gojo knows no shame. "well you started pretty late into the semester," he says, "that's not very typical." 

you roll your eyes. 

"so. not going home?" 

"i'm not welcome in my parent's house, anymore," you say, trying to act like the words mean nothing. you could be discussing your favorite color. "as i'm sure you know." 

"did they kick you out?" 

"do you really want to talk about this? it'll probably bore you." 

he shrugs. "nothing else to do." 

you sigh, shutting your textbook.

maybe it's because gojo doesn't seem to actually care, or because you've been alone all day--with lots of time to spend spewing over choices that weren't yours. either way, the words make their way to your lips before you can stop them.  

"both of my parents pretty much ignored me as soon as i turned ten and started having nightmares about the monsters i was seeing around our house," you shake your head, swallowing, "and after yaga scouted me this year, they decided i'd probably be better off with 'people like me.' so, no, i'm not going home. i'm sure they've already moved." 

gojo stares at you like he's trying to discern if you're telling the truth or not. 

you probably shouldn't have said anything. but it's not your fault that no one's had the guts to ask before him, or that you've been dying to talk about it. 

you roll your eyes. "satisfied, gojo?" 

"satoru," he says, grinning. "anyone who's got a clear attitude problem gets to call me by my first name." 

"did your 'begrudged allies' forget to teach you manners?"

he hums. "i think i skipped those lessons." 

you snort. 

you could thank him for not pitying you--for not saying a single thing about how you didn't deserve it, or that it isn't fair--but you don't. it doesn't feel necessary. 

"suguru's family is like that," he adds because this is a normal thing to discuss with an acquaintance you've hung out with once. "but he's too righteous to cut them off." 

"yeah, i don't have that issue." 

he laughs, spinning around again. then he stands up and plops down on your bed, unwarranted, taking off his glasses so he can lie on his side. 

and then he sits there, staring at you. 

it only takes thirty seconds for you to break. 

"did someone surgically implant diamonds into your eyes?" you demand, kicking his foot away from yours. his body is warm against yours, and it makes you wonder if he's got a fever. 

he would come and bother you just to get you sick. 

"these are all-natural, sweetheart," he whispers, fluttering his lashes. he doesn't look away for a moment. his eyes are prettier up close, you suppose, when you can see them in their full glory. they look less alien, somehow less intense. 

"what are the glasses for anyway?" 

"try 'em on." 

he hands them to you, grinning like he knows something you don't, and you take them--maybe just so you can smudge the lens. 

they are surprisingly light, and warm. you put them over your eyes, blinking. 

"oh, are you clinically blind?" you ask, feeling slightly bad for bringing it up. he's probably going to pull your hair and lock you in your room now. 

satoru snorts. "no, i just don't need to see, unlike some people." 

"...was that supposed to be a brag?" 

you take off the glasses, wincing at the light. then you hand them back to him, tingling skin where your fingers brush his. 

"it would drain my cursed energy if i didn't wear them," he says, "'cause i see a lot more than you do." 

"okay? so it’s not to keep people from screaming when they see you?”

he pinches your thigh in retaliation, scoffing. “i am beautiful.”

he shakes his head, but leaves the glasses off, setting them on his stomach, and closing his eyes. one hand travels to the top of his head, as he relaxes into your bed. 

you'll probably need to wash the sheets after this. 

"hey," you say after he's been still for a minute. "satoru. you can't fall asleep here. i thought you wanted to be entertained."

"then entertain me." 

you roll your eyes, even though he's not looking. "i'm not your servant. go back to your room if you're just going to bed. i'm not cuddling with you." 

"i promise i'm good at it. ask suguru." 

"he's not here, so i can't." 

satoru sighs, opening his eyes again. "talk about something." 

"like what?" 

"uh... your favorite movie." 

"i don't watch a lot of movies." 

he sits up. "what?" he asks, genuinely shocked. 

you roll your eyes at him again. 

and, okay. despite his attitude, and his freaky eyes, you guess it is... nice, to be called upon. 

and as satoru sits there, talking to you about the most ridiculous of things, you feel settled in. unafraid of saying something wrong or pushing him away. 

it's good, you suppose, easy. 

*

next part | series masterlist

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #gojo saturo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jujutsu sorcerer

[girlgenius1111]

got love struck went straight to my head

alexia x reader smut :) 18+

alexia has been in a bad mood all week. she finally tells r what she needs to feel better. bottom alexia rights [literally thought i would die writing top alexia but i had a few requests, and this was fun].

Alexia was irritable, in a way you hadn't seen her since her injury. This time, though, you really weren't sure what the cause was. She was playing well, the team was playing well. The two of you weren't having any problems, as far as you could tell. Nothing had changed in the last week, except that Alexia was acting like she had a stick up her ass 24 hours a day. She barely spoke, opting instead to glare at everyone around her, and when she did speak, it was to snap at whoever was nearest.

You were tired of it and so was the team. Your teammates had been approaching you all week, asking what you'd done to piss Alexia off. You didn't have an answer, and you were just going to let it run it's course, sure her moodiness would pass. That was until Jona pulled you aside after practice, telling you that whatever was going, you had to fix it, because he couldn't take another day with grumpy Alexia.

She was clearly upset about something. The thing was that Alexia was very much the dominant one in the relationship. You weren't really used to having to strong arm her into talking to you; normally she had to do that with you. You'd give it your best shot, though, not really sure how it would go.

You made your move after practice that day, walking into the living room to find her on the couch, grumpy look on her face, scrolling on her phone. Deciding to be bold, you grabbed it out of her hand, and put it in your pocket. She looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, and wordlessly reaching her hand out for you to give it back. It was hard not to, honestly; Alexia could be incredibly intimidating when she wanted, and you weren't used to being on the receiving end of it.

"I want to talk."

"I do not." She responded bitingly, really glaring up at you now.

"Alexia," you sigh, taking a seat on the couch next to her outstretched legs. "What is going on with you?"

"I do not know what you are talking about." She said stubbornly, crossing her arms. She looked like the picture of defiance, like a child refusing to eat her vegetables.

"Love, you absolutely do. You've been mean to everyone this week, including me."

There was a flicker of insecurity across her face at that.

"Alexia, it's me. Tell me what's going on. If something is bothering you, I want to know, I want to help."

Alexia gazed up at you, weighing her options. She took a deep breath, but didn't speak. Instead she grabbed your hand, lacing her fingers with yours.

"I need you." She murmured. You weren't really sure what she meant, and you didn't want to read the situation wrong.

"What do you need from me, baby?"

Alexia squirmed slightly, a blush heating her cheeks.

"You" she responds. You thought you understood now, but it didn't make much sense. Obviously, you and Alexia hadn't had sex in the past week, because she'd been in a horrible mood, but you hadn't gone long without it. Certainly not long enough to warrant the desperate, pleading look in her eyes. Something else was going on, you were sure.

"You have me, Alexia, I don't understand." You figured playing dumb may get Alexia to get frustrated enough to tell you what she really wanted. It worked.

"No, amor, I need you. I need you to fuck me," she declared, looking somewhat unsure. Normally, she was the one that did the fucking. Of course, she got off too, but the way she said it seemed like she wanted you to be in charge. If anyone was a textbook top by definition it was Alexia. You hadn't considered that she wasn't entirely happy in this role.

You remove your hand from her grasp, instead resting it on her thigh. Her breath catches, and you know exactly what she wants.

"Are you needy, baby?" Alexia only nods her head in response, cheeks still flushed red. "Is that why you've been grouchy all week? Because you need me to fuck you?"

"Si, I need it so bad," she responds, almost breathless from your hand moving up and down her thigh.

"Alexia, why didn't you tell me that?"

You would fuck her. You just needed her to understand that she had to ask for the things she wanted, especially when they weren't the norm between you two. Alexia's eyes drop from yours as she shrugs.

"I know you like it when I am in charge. I did not know if you would be open to changing things up," she admits.

"I want what you want. If you want me to be in charge, I will. I need to hear you say it, though, Alexia. Tell me exactly what you want." You're fully teasing now, unashamed.

Alexia squeezes her eyes shut, summoning her nerve, before she opens her eyes again.

"I want you to tell me what to do, I will be good for you. I want you to fuck me, please, amor," she said, her voice quiet. You truly had been completely unaware that Alexia had a thing for praise. It was not something you'd be forgetting any time.

"With what?" You ask. The question takes a second to register. You can tell the second she understands, though, because her face turns even redder, which you didn't know was possible.

"Your cock," Alexia whispers, and you smile smugly down at her. You stand, and she rises quickly, a whine escaping her lips. You turn back to her, bringing her in for a heated kiss. She allows you you take complete control, one of your hands lacing into her hair, holding her securely against you. You pull back after a minute, not letting her get too far.

"Take your clothes off, and get on the bed." You tell her, your words not more than a whisper against her lips. You really are startled at how fast the midfielder follows your instructions.

You take your time, heading into the bedroom after her once you're sure she's had enough time. You find her sitting on the edge of the bed, completely naked, looking nervous. You don't want her nervous, though, not at all. You cross the room fast, gently taking her face in your hands.

"Take a breath, baby," you tell her. "We'll only do what you're comfortable with, and we can stop whenever you want, alright?"

Alexia nods, looking more reassured. She leans up, lips searching for yours. You kiss her softly, pouring your love into it, hoping to ease the rest of her anxiety. She looks dazed when you pull back, and you know you've succeeded.

"Lay down," you tell her, and she does. You allow your eyes to hungrily scan her body, taking in her full breasts, her rippling abs. Her thighs are parted slightly, and you're sure you're seeing wrong when you think you see wetness smeared along the insides. There's no way she was wet enough for that yet.

You take your time taking your own clothes off, stripping right in front of her, eyes not leaving hers. Her pupils are blown wide looking up at you, and her legs are pressed together. You move to the bedside drawer, pulling out the harness she normally wears, and the dildo you love taking the most. You step into it, fitting the cock into the harness, but struggling to tighten it around your hips.

You walk back over to her as you fight with it, and Alexia's fingers quickly replace yours, expertly tightening the straps around your body. Her eyes are stuck on the strap, her lips parting slightly, before she looks up at you.

"Can I suck it?" she asks. You try not to let your surprise show, as you tell her she can. Not a second later, she's taking your length into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down. She gets it nice and wet, before she takes it fully down her throat, gagging slightly.

You're sure your jaw is dropped at the filthy sight in front of you, and you can only watch as Alexia chokes on your cock, eyes shutting as she moves. You tangle your hand in her hair, gathering it in a makeshift ponytail, before tugging lightly on it. She moans in response, and you're encouraged, guiding her to move faster against the fake dick.

After a few minutes, Alexia has tears in her eyes, and spit dripping from her chin. You pull your strap out of her mouth, gently wiping her face off with a towel you always kept near the bed.

"Good?" you check, thumb moving softly back and forth across her cheek as she pants for breath.

"Si, soy tan buena" she replies breathlessly. You guide her to scoot back on the bed, climbing on top of her. Once again, you connect your lips with hers, pushing your tongue into her mouth, easily dominating the kiss. You nibble on her bottom lip, relishing in tiny whine she lets out into your mouth, feeling her hips move under you.

You move your leg to nudge her legs apart, not breaking the kiss, and press your thigh up against her core. You pull back from her face in shock, as she is completely drenched. Her eyes are closed, and she is completely focused on grinding against your leg. You leave it for now, pressing your lips back to hers, making out for several minutes as she moves against you.

When she begins to pant into your mouth, not able to keep up with your kisses, you pull back, removing your leg from in between hers. Her eyes fly open, looking up at you desperately. You climb off of her, spreading legs wide open, and taking in the sight in front of you. She is literally dripping, hole clenching and unclenching, clit peeking out of it's hood. You're sure you've never felt her this wet before.

"You're fucking soaking, baby," you whisper, and she nods. "Is this all for me?" you ask, gently running your index finger through her slick. Her hips buck up into your hand.

"Si, all for you, bonita. Please, I need you," she begs, eyes wide. Having heard enough, you push her legs farther apart, and bend down, running your tongue through her. She moans at the first contact, and you press a hand onto her abdomen, stopping her movements against you. You know what Alexia likes, and you know she is in no mood to be teased, so you set a fast past with your tongue, pushing in and out of her entrance.

You lick her wetness up, though it's quickly replaced, enjoying the salty tase of her on your tongue. You focus on her pussy for another minute, before moving up to flick your tongue across her clit. She cries out at this, hands tangling in your hair. You pull away.

"Play with your nipples," you instruct, and she complies instantly, bring her hands away from your hair, up to her sensitive chest. She rolls her nipples in between her fingers, and you reconnect your mouth with her core. She's been wet enough for a while, but only now do you ease a finger into her. It slides in easily, and soon, a second joins it. You keep your pace steady, wanting her to ask for more.

"Mas rapida, por favor," she gasps, body writhing on the mattress. You give in, beginning to pump your fingers in and out of her at a rapid pace. At the same time, you take her clit into your mouth, suckling hard on it, and Alexia comes hard, crying out your name. You work her through it, listening to her whimpers as she comes down, hips still moving in tandem with your hands.

You stand, pulling her to the edge of the bed, legs wrapping around your waist to keep you against her. You drag your strap over her center, enjoying the way she moves against you, desperate for more.

"Amor, no more teasing," she pleads. "Need your cock in me,"

"Okay, baby," you soothe. "You've been so good for me, gonna fuck you now," you tell her, watching, entranced, as she gasps at your words. You line up and push into her. Alexia lets out a guttural moan, and you almost do as well, struck with how tight you find her. She's soaked, though, and she doesn't seem to be uncomfortable at all as you drag your cock in and out of her at a slow pace.

Alexia is in a state of pure pleasure under you, hands fisted in the sheets, head thrown back. Your arms are wrapped around her legs, and you start to move faster, gripping her hard. You're pushing in deep, and she moves one of her hands down, desperate for more stimulation. Just as she's about to make contact with her swollen clit, you grab her hand and press it back into the mattress. Her eyes fly open, looking up at you desperately.

"No, no. I'll take care of you, pretty girl, you just relax," you state, moving your hand from where it held her thigh, moving her leg out of the way, and beginning to rub firm circles over her clit. Alexia is moaning with every thrust now, and you know she's close. Her hand comes down again, this time to grab your free one. She brings it up, guiding it to wrap around her throat. Your eyes search hers, needing to know that she is completely comfortable. You only see arousal in her eyes, and you squeeze lightly. That's all it takes, before she's falling over the edge, body spasming as she comes.

You let up for only a minute as she comes down, pulling out only to flip her onto her stomach. You pull her hips up, before sliding back in, and she whimpers at the stimulation.

"One more for me, beautiful, wanna come with you," you tell her. Alexia's back arches more, and her ass presses back into you. You palm it with one hand, feeling the harness press against your clit. Normally, you don't think it would be enough for you, but the sight of her under you, fucking back against your strap as she breaths hard, watching your strap disappear into her, coming out dripping, is more than enough.

Your groan as you pound into her, pressing in harder and faster than you were before.

"Are you going to come with me, Ale?" you ask.

"Si, estoy tan cerca, amor," she responds, words broken up by whines. You can see a sheen of sweat on her back, and take in how her legs shake under her, and know she is close.

"So good for me, Ale. My good girl. You like it when I fuck you, hmm?"

Alexia's hips stutter as she gets closer, your words dragging her towards the edge, fast.

"Si, si mi amor, soy tu buena chica," she gasps, apparently losing the ability to speak english.

"Come for me now Alexia, come on my cock," you grunt through gritted teeth, hips pressing in as you feel your orgasm begin to wash over you. Alexia screams out your name, neighbors completely forgotten, as you bury your cock deep inside her one last time, grinding against her as you work yourself through your orgasm. You collapse on top of her, resting her forehead on her back, panting.

Alexia is a mess beneath you, and you pull out slowly, maneuvering her onto her back, despite barely being able to move yourself. Alexia looks incredibly overstimulated, though, body still twitching. Once on her back, Alexia lets out a pitiful cry, reaching for you. You slide back onto the bed, pulling her into your side.

"Mi niña perfecta, te amo mucho, Ale," you tell her, pressing light kisses onto the side of her face. She's still silent, nuzzling her face into your body. You rub her back soothingly, waiting for her body to stop trembling.

"Thank you," she says quietly, the words mumbled into your neck.

"Of course, Alexia. Next time, tell me what you want, hmm? Don't make our whole team suffer because you need me to fuck you."

Alexia laughs against you. It will be enjoyable, tomorrow, to watch her try to explain to your teammates what was behind the sudden change in mood.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirits - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.7)

Summary: reactions from team avatar when they find out your ozais assassin

warning: mentions of scars, not very happy gaang, mean katara!, angst

masterlist: here!

most previous part: here! (all other parts can be found in my masterlist!)

authors note! hello!! idk if anyone will be reading this but if you are welcome!! i haven't posted to this series in YEARS so please forgive me as I'm very rusty at writing but please enjoy!

Unified screams erupted upon Appa. “YOU’RE WHAT!”

“Aang what have you done! You literally let a murderer on Appa! She’s going to kill all of us! Katara was right, and I can’t believe I ignored her.”

“I KNEW IT! Quickly Aang, land Appa and let’s get her off!”

Unable to take it anymore, Toph lost her cool. “Can you knuckle heads shut up! I highly doubt that she will kill us, why the hell would she listen to you guys fighting all the time when she could end her misery by taking you out.”

Reality hitting Sokka and Katara, they finally piped down, allowing Toph to continue.

“Look, what you said is highly questionable. I’m not saying that I trust you, but you’re going to have to give us more information than that or else I’ll throw you off myself. Got it?”

You sighed. At least someone in the group had more sense. “Yeah, of course. What would you like to know?”

“Well for starters a name would be great. Oh and maybe, I don’t know, how and why you’re the Fire Lords Assassin?!”

You almost wanted to pull Katara’s braid for the irritating look of satisfaction on her face. “Right okay… well my name is y/n. uhhh and I was forced to become his assassin when he caught me after I broke into the palace three years ago.”

“That’s it?! Nuh uh lady. I know he’s the Fire Lord and had done some awful things but why would he do that to a child?! You’re either lying or somethings still missing.”

There was a lot to weigh up. To suddenly reveal everything about you would be too much and would get you thrown off Appa anyway. Yet to reveal nothing wouldn’t let you gain enough trust to even last a day. Leaving you to share the one thing you knew so little about yourself that you didn’t care if they knew and hopefully enough of a miserable, pitying tale that they’d let you off the hook for the time being.

“My parents aren’t in my life, they never were. I don’t know who they were or why they did it. All I had was my trainer, Zemin. In his time, he was the most notorious Assassin in the entire Fire Nation and when he retired, he never took on any students to carry on his legacy - if you could even call it that. Every other trainer was ecstatic because this meant that their students would earn the most bounties. Until there was me. I don’t know why he took me in… he just said that he found me as in infant and regretfully took me from an islands rocky shore maybe to sell me off somewhere. I suppose he realised he could make even more money from me if he trained me until I could pay off debt for him raising me. I did the one thing assassins could do, kill. All the money I ever earned from each bounty went straight to him. Luckily enough, I learned quickly, and I got to my final payment when I was 13, then he would have set me free.”

Horrified, Aang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was nothing like this in the Air Temples growing up. “Luckily enough?! How in any universe is that lucky!”

“Most assassins in the Fire Nation, and others, are stuck paying off their guardians or trainers well into their adulthood. Because of… certain tactics and advantages, I became quite popular if you could put it that way and most of the people, I had to take care of were…” Halting, you knew that if you verbally said some lives are worth more than others, Aang would probably go into cardiac arrest.

“Well, some had more people wanting them gone so the bounty was higher.”

“How does this have anything to do with you working for the fire lord! I don’t see why Zemin would let you go if you were doing so much for him.”

Your strength was fading. You hated yourself for how much you scretly enjoyed having people around that weren’t as idealistic as those in the Fire Nation.  “He didn’t. I got an anonymous mission to take out a high general in the palace. So high, that it was going to be enough for me to finish my debt.” After not being met with screams you felt reassured to continue…. they seem to be taking this well…

You took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “On my way out, I got caught in the middle of an Agni Kai. The fire lord wasn’t too pleased I killed one of his generals or interfered with punishing his son. Yet somehow in his psychopathic mind he saw it as an opportunity to pledge my allegiance to him.”

The silence amongst the group was short lived.

“YOU MEAN ZUKO?”

“YOU KILLED SOMEONE.”

“AND YOU ACCEPTED?”

You scrunched your face. Maybe this was a bad idea to tell them. But it was too late to go back. “Yes, it was Prince Zuko in the Agni Kai, that’s how he got his scar. Yes, Aang I did kill the general, but to be fair I haven’t killed anyone since then… And Katara if you were being tortured every day for 8 months, I’m sure you would wear down too.”

The waterbender was unsatisfied with your answer. “Unbelievable! Of course, you did! Everyone has a choice in this world, and you chose the fire lord. You’re nothing but a coward.”

“My life was on the line! You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh please, y/n. I do. I know everything! Sure, you were raised to assassinate others, but you can’t expect me to believe you didn’t know what you were doing when you were standing before Ozai. I would have stayed in a life of suffering than go with him.” Shaking her head, she pierces you with a disgusted look, “You’re no better than Ozai. No better than Azula.”

As Appa continued to glide through the ever-ending expanse of the sky, it seemed nothing could break the suffocating tension that encompassed everyone upon his saddle.

Toph was the only one to speak up. “Didn’t you hear her Katara? She hasn’t killed anyone since then! She’s surviving. If you ask me… she’s braver than any of us, you never know what could have happened to her if she got caught not actually killing her targets!”

Irritated Katara only grumbled, turning away while leaving the two boys to think about how they felt about you. Despite giving them answers, they still had so many questions.

It was undeniably clear that Katara has made her mind up about you, and you were sure everyone else was the same despite the earth benders attempts at comforting you. Hence, as you sat there across from the four of them, you were the first to break eye contact, turning your head to the side as you searched for something to focus on out there in the sky. Bird, a cloud, anything. You didn’t have the heart, the courage, to argue against what she said.

Unknown to you, Aang shuffled closer to you scared that his angry friend might hear him going towards you. His words only just loud enough to hear above the wind he whispered to you… “Its okay y/n. I don’t really understand what you’ve done or what you’ve been through but when youre ready.. you can tell us.

That was the first time your heart ignited a comforting warmth.

As Appas soft paws skilfully landing on the hard earth, you felt your heart drop inside you. What do I do now? Mind racing through all the possibilities, Toph seemed to have decided what to do before you could even stand.

“Hey! Come with me.”

Jumping off Appas saddle you landed on your feet with such a skilled silence, Toph had to sense your heartbeat to even realise you were next to her. Setting off towards where she’d set up her sleeping area, it was best you stuck closely behind.

“Don’t think about what Katara said, she doesn’t get it.”

“How so?”

Stalling in her tracks, she turned her unseeing gaze towards you. “She doesn’t know what its like to be born into a life that you don’t want. And she definitely doesn’t know how hard it can be trying to escape it.”

Unsure with how to reply, humming in understanding was the best you could come up with.

“Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I know you most certainly don’t need me, but I’ve got your back.”

The next day had gone by agonizingly slow. With Toph trying to teach Aang earth bending you were left to your own devices since Katara decided to tag along. Although you found yourself tailing Sokka as he went his own way looking for food unaware of your silent giggles seeing him get stuck in the ground.

“...big things eat smaller things. Nothing personal. But this time, it didn’t work out that way…I admit it, you’re cute…”

You decide to finally reveal yourself, tired of your lack of entertainment. “What are you doing down there Sokka?”

Letting out a girl like squeal, he’s horrified at getting caught in this position. “Nothing!”

“You look like you could use some help.”

“I don’t want help from you!” You dismiss it. Surely he has no other choice but to make himself acquainted with you.

“Yeah, right. It’s funny, you’re probably the third person that has ever said that to me. The second in about the span of 48 hours.” you cant help but divert your attention towards the cute animal annoying him. “Aweee look at this cutie!”

“Get away from it!”

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I don’t want you to hurt it!”

“Please, I actually quite like animals. They’re a lot better than humans anyway.”

“I- well… fine! Just go away?”

You scoff, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t like you!”

“Hmm… is that so.”

“Yes, of course it is!”

You’re done feeling sorry for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t like me, or do you feel that way because of your sister?”

“I- well… argh! Fine! I don’t know.”

“Well… why don’t you talk to me and work it out for yourself? If you still dislike me so much I’ll leave you be and get someone to come help.”

A  silence fills the distance between the two of you.

He sighs, caving in, “So.. this Zemin guy. Did he REALLY not give you a choice?”

Looking up, you stare at the clear sky. “I learnt early on in my training that I didn’t have a choice or options in life other than what he wanted. Any exercise I rushed through, half assed, or tried to skip through when he wasn’t looking came with consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“The kind that keeps all of my clothing and bindings on so I don’t constantly get pitiful looks or too many questions.”

He scoffs, “prove it”

Staring at all your layers you sigh, “don’t say I never warned you.”

Peeling off all your layers one by one until your down to just your tank top and pants, you decide to take off your face mask last. Your eyes meeting Sokka’s, you notice him swallow thickly. But its you to break the ice first. “In all fairness, most of them are now from Ozai. The older they look… well I’m sure you can work it out for yourself.”

“b-but-“Fuck why did I have to make him uncomfortable.

Unable to take it any longer, you pull him out from the hole in the ground. “Its fine.”

You turn to walk away after helping him, but he grabs your scarred wrist, the feeling of the textured skin making him internally wince. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you expose yourself like that. Its horrible that you had to experience that… hell we look the same age!”

“Everyone is on different paths. Look, lets just forget about it..”

Sokka feels like he could bust into tears “No! you don’t understand. I’ve seen the effects of the fire nation… hell they took away my mum. I still remember it, sometimes I have weeks where I keep reliving it in my nightmares, only finding peace when im awake. Its like im being haunted. But- but you?! You have to face it whether you’re awake or asleep”.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you can’t handle the intensity of his words. Theres nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. You hug him. You don’t remember the last time you held someone. It feels weird, almost wrong. But as he squeezes you back, tightening the embrace, you understand one thing. You have an understanding with the water tribe boy, despite how dark it may feel.

Hours pass by as you sit with sokka talking about useless topics until the other three join you once more. Feeling weariness in their gaze, you realise you forgot to put your layers back on. Now everyone can see your face and scars.

Only Aang has the courage to speak with you.

“Hey. Uhhh, y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I just… I’m sorry for not speaking much with you since yesterday. I didn’t mean to, it was just a lot to process personally! Growing up with the Air Nomads, I was taught that killing is wrong and that under no circumstance should that be the answer. If I’m completely honest with you, I still stand by those teachings and to have someone who has… killed… so close to me and the people I care the most about is… unsettling.”

There it was. You knew despite how much he was trying; you knew he wouldn’t be able to see past what you did. What you are.

“I understand. I don’t blame you, or anyone for reacting the way they are, and I know what it feels like to want to protect those who mean something to you.” You glance at Sokka, remembering how he understood.

“Just… please understand that I’ve realised what I did was wrong and while I can’t change everything that I have done, I’m trying to move away from that way of life. I don’t want to be a killer anymore. I’m trying my best to fix it.”

“I know…. Its just-“

“You don’t trust me.”

“What?! NO! I mean…. I don’t know. You clearly have good inside of you but it’s hard to look past.”

“I get it. I’ll head off then, the world needs you Aang and I won’t be the one to stand it your way.”

“No! stop! Please! I know I said it’s hard for me to do, but I clearly see you trying your best. I know you won’t hurt me. I just… I suppose I need to open my eyes more. See you for who you are now, what you’re doing now.”

But what if you can’t? What if I’m still that person, no matter how much I try to shove it away. This is what I have been made to become?

“Okay.”

Letting out a nervous quiet laugh, he glances back to everyone. “okay well… lets eat!”

Zuko stares at the sky in the heavy downpour. “You always through everything you could at me. Well, I can take it. And now I can give it back!”

Lightning cacks in the sky before his eyes.

“Come on!”

“Strike me! You never held back before!”

Met with only the sound of the world around him, he feels helpless. Lost. Alone.

Screaming out, Zuko falls to his knees as the rain and guilt encompasses all of his senses.

His voice scratchy from screaming, he can hardly croak out… “You never held back from her."

taglist: ​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @slythergirlimagines ​​​ @whiskeywinter89​​ @simplyfandomish @khaleesi-of-assassins​ ​ ​ @calciumcow @ilovespideyyy @callums-keith @nnon-it-up @blackhood5sos @chewymoustachio @tiffy119 @reclusive-chicken-nugget @lozzybowe​ @scarletemeterio​​ @simpinforsukka​ ​ ​ @sokkassuki​ @spearbatty @kaylove12

#zuko x reader #zuko fanfic #zuko #the gaang #zuko angst #atla zuko #prince zuko #avatar aang #aang #toph #sokka #suki #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko x aang #aang x katara #atla aang

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets a few second chances in the midst of a deployment he would rather not have to complete. He just wants to be home with you, trying to fix what is broken. But he doesn't know how much you've been struggling.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley felt devastation. Were you really going to make him wait the full eight weeks before you would talk to him? He couldn't do it. He had too much to say, and he needed to see your face.

"Fuck." He entered your phone number and tried again. And again. But as he was about to enter it for the fourth time, he grasped the iPad and forced himself to stand. 

"No answer?" the officer asked when Bradley handed it back to him. His response was somewhere between a nod and a shrug, and he felt like crying. "Want me to add you back onto the list?"

"Please," Bradley rasped, swallowing hard. It was still dinnertime. He could go back and get something to eat. But he'd lost his appetite, and even though he didn't mind bunking with Bob, having a few minutes alone in the room sounded like his best bet. 

It felt like his feet weighed a ton as he walked along all three corridors and down a flight of stairs before he was at his bunk door. And then he collapsed onto his bed without even removing his boots. You always picked up. You always answered his calls. You even answered after Josh attacked you. 

Bradley thought he was going to be sick. And then Bob unlocked the door and let himself inside. "Hey, Bob," he grunted, rubbing his temples with his fingers. 

"Oh. You seem annoyed that I'm here," he replied, closing the door very slowly. "Do you want to kick me out again so you can have the bunk to yourself?"

Bradley turned and looked at him, thoroughly confused. "Again?"

Bob blushed a little bit as he kept his hand on the doorknob. "Uh, yeah. Last time we bunked together? A few years ago? You kicked me out of the room in the middle of the night."

Bradley sat up on his bed. "I did?"

"Yeah," Bob said softly. "You came back annoyed with me. You asked me to leave. You had a woman with you."

Bradley felt even sicker now. He could vaguely remember what Bob was talking about. A deployment before he met you. It had been late. He wanted to hook up. And Bob had been his roommate at the time. 

"I can't believe I did that," Bradley whispered, getting to his feet and taking Bob by both shoulders, leading him away from the door. "That's never going to happen again." He gave him a quick hug. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to leave the bunk, okay? And I'm not going to hook up with anyone, unless my wife miraculously appears here and decides she still loves me."

Bob nodded. "She still loves you."

"I know she does," Bradley replied as he sank back down onto his bed. This time he removed his boots and tossed them next to the door. "I just need to do a lot better. I just want to have a happy wife."

"Yeah," Bob agreed, also untying his boots. "She makes you a lot better. You don't kick people out of their rooms anymore, and you always remember everyone's birthday."

Bradley groaned and nodded. "That's because she remembers everyone's birthday, and she reminds me."

Bob smiled and nodded as he pulled out some notebooks and a pen. "You were still annoyed though. When I came in just now. You can tell me why if you want to."

Bradley sat up and faced Bob across the few feet of space between their beds. "She didn't answer when I tried to call her. This is a first."

"Hmm," Bob hummed thoughtfully without saying anything else.

"Yeah," Bradley added. "There's a lot I want to tell her. Shit she deserves to hear. I'm afraid I'm going to forget or completely fuck it up by the time I get to talk to her."

Bob tried to hand him a notebook and his pen. "Write it down."

"Write what down?" Bradley asked, cautiously taking the offered items and flipping through the notebook which was empty.

"Write down all the things you want to say. I started journaling a few years ago to help organize my thoughts and manage my anxiety. I think it's helped me in a lot of ways, including making me a better, calmer aviator. But you could write notes to or about your wife. See what works."

And then Bob started writing in the other notebook, leaving Bradley to his own thoughts. He opened up to that first, pristine page and placed the pen to it.

Dear Baby Girl

----------------------------

You felt great after Sunday brunch with Cam and Maria. As soon as you got there, you said, "We've been trying to get pregnant. I'm not pregnant. Let's have mimosas and not talk about Bradley." And they listened. And it was wonderful. And it's not that you didn't want to talk about him or think about him, it was that you really needed a break. Because he was the only thing you were thinking about. 

On Monday, as soon as you got to work, it felt like you were leaving again for your doctor's appointment. You didn't even want to go. You didn't want to get on the scale. Ever since you overdid it on your honeymoon months ago, you'd been afraid to weigh yourself, because you knew this could be adding to your issues. 

When the nurse took your blood pressure and then told you to get onto the scale, you couldn't even look at the readout. You'd bring it up to the doctor in private, away from everyone else in the hallway. 

And then you were led back to an exam room and left to squirm around on the paper covered table in the rough hospital gown while you stared at your uniform folded neatly on the chair by the door. Your name tag was boldly reminding you that you'd tacked Bradshaw onto your last name. When your doctor walked in, she used your full hyphenated name when she greeted you, and you tried to smile. 

You thought about Bradley as you decided to get everything out of the way right from the start. "I want to talk about my weight. And fertility."

But a few minutes later, you were sitting with your mouth hanging slightly open. "You've lost almost fourteen pounds since this time last year. Were you intentionally trying to lose weight?" she asked, eyeing you carefully. 

"N-No. I thought I gained a lot of weight. I've been nervous to check. I'm...trying to get pregnant."

She nodded and started to examine your eyes and ears as she said, "You need to make sure you're taking care of yourself. Eating well. Three meals a day. Healthy snacks. Exercising." Then she looked you in the eye. "Based on your age and general health, I can refer you to a specialist once you've been trying for eight to twelve cycles without success. And your husband can have some tests run then as well."

"Right," you replied with a soft sigh, thinking about Bradley's exceptionally fucking awesome sperm once again. But you cracked a smile. "I'm already five cycles in, so halfway there."

She nodded. "You just give me a call if you need to."

You left the medical building, still adjusting your uniform and wondering how you'd lost so much weight without noticing. But your pants were feeling a little loose now. And so was your shirt. They were snug after your honeymoon. Had you lost fourteen pounds in just a few months?

When you reached your car, you closed your eyes and swallowed past the lump in your throat. You were not taking very good care of yourself. You could barely remember the last time you had lunch at work or ate something other than a protein bar for breakfast. Memories of lavish weekend breakfasts with Bradley filled your mind. You'd be perched on his lap, sharing one plate full of eggs, bacon, potato pancakes and grilled vegetables. When was the last time you did that? Spent an hour eating breakfast together with the occasional brush of Bradley's mustache along your neck? 

You had to wipe your tears away as you unlocked your door and climbed inside. You started the engine as you pulled your phone out of your bag. 

"No!" 

Missed FaceTime call from RESTRICTED

"Fuck!" Your fingers were shaking as you tried to enter your passcode. Then you tried to call back. Not Connected. Not Connected. Not Connected. 

You sat in your car and cried. You missed a call from Bradley. It must have been him. You missed it by seven minutes. And now it could be weeks before you got another opportunity to talk to him. 

Panic rose in your chest. He probably thought you ignored him. "Roo," you sobbed, resting your forehead on your steering wheel. You missed him so much, you felt sick most of the time. You were counting down the days to the start of your period, and you could remember how he used to plug your heating pad in for you and bring you Tylenol. He used to rub your back and share a bottle of wine. You missed him, and you wanted him back home, doing all the silly little things he used to do. You knew how good things could be. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you looked at the missed call notification one more time. Then you turned your volume up to full blast. You'd take your phone everywhere from now on. You drove back to work with a sinking feeling in your chest. What if he didn't even bother trying to call you back again?

That thought stayed with you all day, and you had to force yourself to grab something to eat on your way back up to your office. You choked down a sandwich that tasted disgusting as you sat there alone. 

You felt even worse the next day since you were barely able to sleep. And you knew you needed to eat something, but you couldn't even stomach any coffee. You headed right to work after you let Tramp out, and you didn't even make it to your lab before you ran into your boss. 

"Meet me in my office, Lieutenant Commander," Captain Bickel told you. "I need you to look over some paperwork that came in from Annapolis on the overlapping project."

"Right now, sir?" you asked softly. Your body was practically trembling with anxiety. 

"Yes," he replied, and your heart sank. You followed him down the hallway, each step harder to physically complete than the last. When you sank down into the chair across from his desk, he handed you a folder. Your hand visibly shook as you took it from him, and you were almost too nauseous to feel embarrassed. Almost. 

Heat and sweat broke out on your neck, and the cool air gave you goosebumps. You could feel every little hair on your body stand up on end as you listened to your boss talking, but nothing was processing in your mind. That missed call had you in almost constant hysterics, and you didn't know who to talk to about it. Nobody would understand how much of a fucking big deal this was to you. You promised Bradley you'd always answer his calls. You promised him. 

"Is that right?" Bickel asked you, his voice sounding muffled to your ears. "Lieutenant Commander? Is that right?"

You looked down at the unopened folder in your lap, and tears started to stream down your cheeks. It didn't even feel like you were crying. But you must be? It didn't make sense at all, but when you opened your mouth, you heard a choked sob as you tried to meet his eyes.

He was around the desk, kneeling in front of your chair immediately. "Hey," he kept saying over and over again, and you wanted to tell him to stop, but you just kept crying. There was soft pressure on the back of your hand where his palm was resting. You were still trying to meet his eyes, and when you finally did, he used your first name. "Are you okay?"

You sucked in so much air that it hurt your insides. Everything was uncomfortable and too quiet, and you could barely speak, but you managed to say, "I don't know."

So he just sat there with you as you gulped in more air that hurt while your head throbbed. It probably took you a long time until the weight of your body in the chair felt normal again, and you realized you were sitting in your own sweat. You were hungry and gross and you missed your husband. When your boss asked, "What can I do for you?" the only thing you could do right away was shrug. 

But a few beats later, you managed to whisper, "Do you remember when Josh was here, and you asked me if I wanted to talk to someone?"

His face looked even more alarmed now, but you didn't have the energy to explain anything to him. "Yes," he replied, and he stood and reached for his phone. You clutched at Bradley's wedding band through the fabric of your shirt.

-----------------------------

"The better plan for a more efficient flight path would be to take out the communications tower first and then strike their base," Admiral Dean informed the group of aviators for about the hundredth time. Bradley could have drawn the terrain maps from memory by now. He also couldn't help but think that the admirals were making sure that Slayer, Charmer and the other children were keeping up with the plans. "But we'll decide on the day of the mission which tactical option is better. Any questions?"

"Sir, what does the terrain look like again?" Charmer asked politely.

"Very good question," Dean replied, and Bradley gritted his teeth. It was a fucking idiotic question, and the rest of the room know it. He could practically feel the rage rolling off of Phoenix. If anyone from Top Gun had asked that question, the admiral would have snapped. Plus, Charmer and Slayer had taken to referring to Nat as Honey, which almost sent Bradley through the roof every single time. 

When everyone was dismissed for lunch, he was the first one out of the room, taking out his phone and opening it up to the notes app. Writing in the notebook from Bob every night had actually been more helpful than he expected, and occasionally he added a note to his phone so he would remember to write it down that night. He wasn't writing love letters exactly. They were more like little notes in which he was trying to describe how he felt about you. Trying to put into sentences everything he wanted to change, and also the things he wanted to stay the same. 

But the notebook was for him. You didn't need to read it. He'd keep it and look at it when he got home and started trying to put his marriage back on track. 

"Hey, Honey, you think you should be eating a sandwich instead of making me a sandwich?" Bradley looked up from his phone only to realize he had made it all the way to the dining hall. And Slayer was acting like a complete prick to Nat. She was the only female aviator on this detachment, which usually wouldn't have been an issue, but it was right now. 

Bradley saved the note he had written, and he turned to Slayer and calmly said, "Do you know how to shut your mouth, or do I need to show you?"

Loud booming laughter filled the space between them. "Old man, you couldn't show me how to do jack fucking shit. Except maybe nail your dog of a wife with a limp dick."

Bradley was for a split second reminded of the last time you and he had sex, and he could feel his cheeks start to flush. The thing was, Bradley didn't really mind the attention being on him instead of Nat or Bob, but this is what seemed to make his best friend snap. Nat snatched his phone out of his hand and held up the lock screen, which was actually a photo of you from the honeymoon. In your red bikini. With your tits pressed together and a dirty little smirk on your face. Bradley snapped it about a minute after he finished fucking you on the deck next to the pool.

"Does she look like a dog to you?" Nat asked the guys, and their eyes bugged out. This was bad. "No, she does not. And I'm not your Honey. Stop harassing me. Stop harassing Rooster. And stop harassing Bob."

But Slayer was still laughing. "She's hot, old man. She's definitely fucking around behind your back. Doubt you can keep up. Hell, I'd nail her." 

"Me too," Charming added as Bradley tucked his phone away in his pocket. And now Nat seemed to realize she shouldn't have reacted the way she did. Because Bradley was pissed. These fucking dipshits were really just the cherry on top of an already shitty deployment. 

"Let's get out of here," Nat said, about to reach for his arm. 

"I'm cool," Bradley snarled, even though he felt anything but. "Let's get some food." He picked up a tray and gripped it with white knuckles as he piled it up at random with food he didn't even really want. His mind was unfocused, and now he was thinking about how easy it actually would be for you to cheat on him while he was deployed. But that was a two way street, and he didn't want to open that horrible thought up inside of himself. 

"I'm sorry," Nat whispered as the two of them found a seat while Bob meandered over like he was unfazed by everything. Because he probably was. He had invited Bradley to join him while he meditated each night before bed. At first Bradley thought it seemed silly, but perhaps he was actually onto something. 

"Don't apologize, Nat."

"I shouldn't have taken your phone-"

"It's fine," he said, cutting her off. He was too tired to converse as he bit into his food. But it tasted like shit, so when he heard his name being called, he didn't mind the interruption. "I'm Bradshaw," he told the deckhand who was carrying an envelope. 

"What's that?" Nat asked, leaning over his arm as he opened it and pulled out a handwritten note on thick, creamy paper. 

"Holy shit," Bradley muttered. "It's from the commanding officer."

Her eyes bugged out. "As in the captain of the aircraft carrier?"

"Looks like it," Bradley replied as he read the note.

Lieutenant Commander B. Bradshaw,

You may use my personal communication device this evening at 2300 hours in my study.

Admiral Berry

He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but given the chance, he would absolutely try to call you again.

---------------------------------

You looked at Dr. Genevieve in her khaki uniform with her hair pulled up into a tight bun. She reminded you of your mom with her placid smile and sharp eyes. You were sitting in a soft, brown leather chair across from her, sipping some lemonade and eating the pretzel sticks Bickel gave you. And you already felt a lot better, although slightly embarrassed. But you were here now. And she was more than willing to talk to you.

"I... should have probably come here a few weeks ago," you said softly before taking one last sip of your drink. 

"Today's a good day to talk," she replied, but she didn't rush you. 

"Yeah," you said, nodding as you ran your palm down the arm of the chair in her office on base. "That's probably true. I'm... struggling? For lack of a better word? I guess?"

"That word is okay to use. But struggling is normal, Lieutenant Commander. It's something we all do."

So you took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. "I had a panic attack. In front of my boss," you groaned, covering your eyes with your hand. 

She kind of shrugged. "That's a pretty safe place for that kind of thing."

"I guess so," you replied with a little laugh. But then your face fell as you played with a stray thread on your uniform shirt. "I'm afraid I messed up my marriage," you said, barely loud enough for her to hear. But when you met her eyes through your tears, you were certain she heard you. "And I want to fix all of it, but I don't know how."

And with a few words of encouragement from her, you let loose. If you had to guess, you thought you must have gone on for ten minutes without stopping. You told this woman everything, and with each passing sentence, it started to feel easier to keep going. She took a few notes, and asked a few followup questions, but ultimately she let you talk as much as you wanted to. About whatever you wanted to. 

And even though you were exhausted and your uniform was uncomfortable, you felt so much better as you said, "I was getting my physical the other day. And I had so many questions for my doctor, and I've been so focused on trying to get pregnant. Apparently I lost weight. And I know I haven't been eating. And I think I can get better. Used to be a lot better. But when I finally thought to check my phone, I missed a call from Bradley. And I'm so afraid he thinks I didn't want to talk to him," you gasped as your voice cracked. 

As the back of your head came to rest against the leather, you closed your eyes. You could just picture him and the way he smiled at you. The way he had always smiled just for you. And maybe you should feel more like crying right now, but you were just too fucking tired. 

Dr. Genevieve waited until you were looking at her again before she asked, "You'd want to talk to your husband now? If you could have the chance?"

"Yes, but God... it could be weeks before he's allowed to call again. If at all." Just thinking about it had that cold, clammy feeling building inside you again. 

"Hmm," she hummed. "You said he's on the Theodore Roosevelt?"

"Yep," you replied. "Good old, Teddy. He told me he's been deployed to that vessel more than any other," you said, feeling like you were at the point of rambling nonsense now. But at least your heart was no longer pounding behind your eyes.

"Well, I'll see what I can do."

After that, you left her office and Bickel dismissed you for the day. But Dr. Genevieve told you to keep your phone on you, and you promised you would. And perhaps you should have been mortified when you got home only to answer the door twenty minutes later for a delivery guy, but you weren't.

"I didn't order any food," you told him, but he just handed you two bags and left without asking you to pay. When you took the bags to the kitchen and emptied them onto the counter, you saw a receipt that said it had been charged to J. Bickel. "Oh," you gasped, and Tramp looked up at you. "Yeah, he's pretty chill," you informed your dog about your boss. 

And then you cut the enormous sandwich in half and carried it to the dining room table along with the soup and salad. You ate until you couldn't physically take another bite, and then you got into a hot bath and stayed there until the water turned cool. 

It wasn't even 6 o'clock when you got yourself into bed, but your belly was full and you felt clean. And it had been such a relief to talk to someone who you'd never met before about every dirty detail you'd been living with. Your chest didn't hurt as much, and you didn't feel as helpless. 

You rubbed Tramp's belly, and just as you turned to plug your phone in, it started ringing. You gasped and dropped it on the floor. "Shit!" You almost fell out of bed as you scrambled for it. You'd caught a glimpse of Restricted Caller on the screen, but you wanted to make sure. 

"Bradley?" you nearly shrieked as you answered the call and finally got to see your husband's face. "Bradley!"

"Baby Girl," he rasped, and you sank to the floor as you smiled and started to cry. 

"I'm sorry," you said quickly as he shook his head. "I'm so sorry I let you leave without making sure you heard me when I told you I love you. Because I love you, and I miss you. And I'm sorry I didn't answer your call on Monday! But I was at my doctor's appointment!"

"Shh," he soothed, his eyes glued on yours as he shook his head again. "It's okay. I love you. And I don't need you to apologize for any of that right now. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry I let you down."

"Roo."

"I just need to know you still love me."

"Of course I still love you," you sobbed, wiping your eyes on his soft UVA shirt. "Bradley, I always will."

His eyes dipped down. "You're wearing my ring, Sweetheart?" 

You nodded and reached for the charms and his wedding band where they hung. "Why did you leave it?" you asked in a tiny, pathetic voice. "I hate that you're not wearing your ring."

He gave you a funny look. "I am," he insisted, holding up his left hand for you to see. 

"What's that?" you asked, examining something that was very much not his wedding band. 

"The silicone ring I told you I was ordering. I actually hate it," he said with a laugh. "You look so beautiful."

"When did you tell me you were ordering a silicone ring?" you asked.

"I don't know," he murmured. "A month ago? I put it on the shopping list on the fridge and asked if you wanted one, too. God, you look so beautiful."

But you just stared at him before springing to your feet and taking your phone into the kitchen. "Oh," you gasped. The magnetic whiteboard was partly covered by a piece of paper, and the marker had gotten smudged, but there it was. Bradley's pre deployment shopping list. You had been so distracted lately, nothing was sticking in your mind when it should have been. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said, and you looked back at your phone. "I wouldn't have left you without a ring on. Ever. And I can't wait to get back home and get the real thing off your necklace chain and put it back on my finger."

"You can't wait?" you asked, matching his little smile with your own. 

"Of course I can't wait. I'm ready to come home now. I love you. Being away from you and feeling uncertain has been terrifying." 

You couldn't believe how calm he sounded. Like he was just waiting to hear from you and see you, knowing everything would be okay. "I've been having a rough time," you said very softly as you walked back toward the bedroom. "It hasn't been okay."

He looked more concerned now. "We'll fix it," he promised. "As soon as we're together, we will fix it. No matter what it takes. You are my top priority. And that's never going to change. You understand?"

"Yeah," you whispered as you climbed back into bed. 

"If you're not happy with me, then I need to try harder and do better," he promised. "Until there's no doubt in your mind about how much I love you. And I don't need anything else."

There was an unspoken undertone of how the two of wanted and had been trying for a baby. But you didn't want to be the one to say it. "You're sure you don't need anything else?"

He nodded and said, "I'm sure, Sweetheart. I'd be lucky to get to spend the rest of my life with you. Just you. Me and you."

You felt calm in a way you hadn't been in months. It felt like you were melting back into your pillow as Bradley said, "Now why don't you tell me how you pulled this one off. Because I'm sitting in the Commanding Officer's quarters right now, using Admiral Berry's personal iPad."

You laughed, realizing he was sitting in front of an elaborate looking bookshelf as he smiled at you. "I think Admiral Berry is married to Dr. Genevieve Berry." And when you told him you had a panic attack at work and talked to a therapist on base, your husband said he was proud of you for taking care of yourself.

"I haven't been though, Roo," you whispered sadly as you burrowed down in the blankets. "Not really."

"I'm the one who hasn't been taking good enough care of both of us. I promise that's going to change when I get home. I need it to, and you deserve it."

Your body shook slightly with a quiet sob, and you nodded. "My period is going to start soon."

"Okay," he said softly. "We're not worrying about that right now. But I wish I was home to plug in your heating pad and rub your feet." 

"Me, too. I love you." It felt so good to say it to him. His lips parted like he had something to say, then you saw him look to his right. 

"Right, absolutely," he said to someone off screen. "No problem."

When he was facing you again, you asked, "You have to go?" 

"I do," he confirmed with a frown. "But first, can you promise me a few things?"

"Yes."

"You'll make sure you're getting enough sleep and eating enough? And talking to someone if you feel like you're struggling?"

"I promise. And, Roo? If you call and I don't answer, it's because I couldn't, okay? I always want to hear from you."

He smiled and exhaled in visible relief. "I understand. I love you. See you in a few weeks."

------------------------------

Can we...can we breathe a little bit now? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #always ever only you

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ix.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The next few weeks trudge along in a dull fog, the efflorescence of spring yielding to the sizzling heat of summer. You cloister yourself in a sedulous bubble, turning your focus to cheerleading and the upcoming midterms.

You miss your friends, each day agonizing as you’re trapped in aching loneliness.

You miss Mindy’s sarcastic jokes, Chad’s warmth, Anika’s laugh.

You miss the lazy afternoons spent in each other’s dorms and horror movie nights. You miss the goofy late night chats about everything and nothing.

You also miss Ethan, his kindness, his patience.

Without him, studying becomes much harder. 

Even more than the help he provided, his friendship meant the world to you. He always listened and knew exactly what to say to cheer you up. Unfortunately he’s just as in danger as everyone else in your presence.

Getting close to you is a death sentence. 

You’ve learnt that some time after Tyler was attacked.

He succumbed to his injuries the very next night.

The news shook the student body and unleashed a ripple of fear throughout campus. 

As for you, it cemented your decision to keep away from everyone you hold dear. 

It’s for the best.

Your heart shatters every time Ghostface’s words bounce in your head. 

If you had stayed away from Tyler, he’d still be alive. The guilt of knowing that weighs upon you everyday.

It’s no wonder people give you wary looks when you walk across campus. It’s a miracle Alana even let you remain on the team with everything going on. 

You know she has every reason to kick you out and, truthfully, you’d understand if she did. 

It’s like Jeff said at the hospital. You’re cursed.

It’s Friday night and you’re in your room on your own, your roommate away on a trip with her boyfriend.

You don’t mind it since Vanessa started tossing you the same strange looks as everyone else lately.

It’s created a weird atmosphere in your dorm.

You’ve even caught her trying to fill a form to switch roommates, citing medical reasons. She was expeditiously denied as the year’s far too advanced and has been in a mood since.

A break is more than welcome.

Sitting on your bed with your knee against your chest, you carefully apply the second coat of your favorite pink nail polish. You smile at your handiwork once it’s dry, happiness fluttering through you at how pretty your toes look. 

As you remove your toe separator and wiggle them, wondering if you should add a layer of glitter or not, your phone buzzes.

Terror clutches your insides. 

A surprised exhale leaves your lips and you even kick the bottle of nail polish across the fuzzy rug below your bed, staining the pale blue wool with bright dots of pink.

Heart pounding a heavy staccato in your chest, you gingerly pick up your phone from beside your pillow.

You suck in a deep breath, then another one.

Ever since that night, you’ve been on edge every time your phone buzzes.

Needless to say the last few weeks have taken a tremendous toll on your sanity.

Finally, you gather the courage to check the text you just received.

At the sight of the familiar name, a mix of relief and melancholy floods your insides.

(Anika K: 

Hey, just checking on you and wishing you a happy Friday. Hope you’re okay and, if not, that things will look up very soon. 

I know you said you wanted space so I’m not gonna push, but I just wanted to let you know that I miss you so so much and things aren’t as fun when you’re not around.

I don’t know everything but I want you to know that I love and support you no matter what.

Here’s a bear for you cause I know how much you love them! 💖💖💖

Your bestie, Nikki)

A dancing bear shooting little hearts follows her message.

Tears swim in your eyes as you grow overwhelmed. They drip onto the screen, water smudging Anika’s words. You wipe your eyes and sniffle, grabbing the box of tissues on your night table. 

It’s not the first time your friends have tried to reach out.

Nearly everyday you get a message from Mindy, Chad, Anika and even Tara and Quinn sometimes, despite not being as close to them. 

They’re trying to get you to come out and act normal again. Except you can’t. 

No matter how much you crave it, normalcy is beyond your grasp. As soon as you’ll let your guard down, he’ll come back to torture you. Who knows who he’ll pick next just to teach you a lesson.

You can’t bear it. You can’t be the reason people are getting hurt. 

So you close the conversation with Anika as tears stream down your face, once again leaving her on read. 

Your heart sinks to your feet. 

You grab your teddy bear and hug it tightly, shuddering sobs wracking your frame.

The pit of hollowness inside you expands. 

You’ve never been so isolated before. It makes you wish you appreciated everything you used to have more. 

A gentle knock on the door lures you away from your wistful musings.

You gasp as your head jerks up.

You quickly wipe your eyes, lamenting their puffy redness as you get a glimpse of your despondent reflection in your vanity mirror.

You let go of your bear, propping him against the headboard.

Plastering on a smile, you plod to your dorm’s entrance.

Your jaw hangs slack at the sight of the head of brown curls and lopsided, bashful smile you know too well.

“Hey,” he greets, adjusting the strap of his backpack.

“E-Ethan? You shouldn’t be here.”

You attempt to shut the door but Ethan wedges his foot against the door jamb to keep it open.  He slinks inside and closes the door behind him.

Your eyes grow wider.

He drops his backpack on the floor and leans against the door, tilting his head sideways while running his eyes over you. 

“You missed all our tutoring sessions,” he notes.

A feeble apology stumbles out of your lips. “I’m sorry.”

He hums in acknowledgement before adding, “You don’t answer when I text or call.”

You heave out a long sigh.

“You should go.”

You try to shove him out but he doesn’t budge.

“No way,” he says firmly.

Your fingers outstretch toward the handle but Ethan’s faster, snapping the lock into place and placing himself in front of the door so you can’t escape.

You gawk at him.

“Ethan…What are you doing?”

Towering over you, he takes a slow step in your direction.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

His hand sneaks under your chin when you lower your head.

“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,” he mutters, angling your chin upward so his gaze dives into yours. His chestnut orbs soften as they drink you in. “Come on. I’m always here for you, you know that.”

The longer you peer at him, the more the fences you erected around yourself crumble, until nothing is left but ruins.

More tears swell in your eyes.

“Everyone who gets close to me dies, Ethan,” you shakily confess.

Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a tight warm hug. 

“Shh, that’s just not true,” he whispers tenderly, cradling the back of your head as you weep against his chest.

“Yes, it’s true. It’s like everyone’s saying. I’m cursed.”

He collects your trembling fingers from your lap and twines them with his. 

Your tears soak his shirt but Ethan doesn’t seem to mind. He grabs your hand and guides you back to your bed as you thoughtlessly trail behind him.

He sits you at the edge of your bed and hunkers down in front of you. Even like this, Ethan’s so tall that you’re still at eye level with him.

“You’re not cursed," he affirms softly. 

Water drips down where your hands are joined with his. 

“Yes, I am," you quaver. 

"But I am."

"No," he fervently retaliates, lifting one hand to swipe your tears with his thumb while the other one roams over your thigh. "It just wasn’t meant to be. These guys weren’t right for you…" You stare at him, numb with shock. Dumbfounded, you don’t move as he cups your cheeks and bends over you.

A confident smile unfurls on his mouth.

Warm lips suddenly collide with yours. You find yourself on your back, confined between Ethan’s large frame and the mattress as he kisses you senseless. 

You whimper and his kiss turns hungrier, his hand roughly gripping under your thigh in a way that’ll surely bruise the next day. He hums, exploring your mouth and sweeping over your curves.

As an unmistakable pressure jutting from between Ethan’s legs presses into your belly, alarm bells ring inside your head.

You bang against his chest to get him to stop. 

"Ethan! What are you-"

He finally allows you to breathe but doesn’t free you, keeping you caged beneath him by putting his hands on each side of you. 

He licks his swollen lips and caresses the side of your face before admitting breathlessly, "I love you."

Your mouth falls open in sheer disbelief. You toss him a contrite look as he scrutinizes you. 

"I…I’m sorry but I don’t feel this way about you, Ethan."

He chuckles, a hopeful smile blooming on his features.

"Maybe not now but…"

"No, I don’t think I ever will,” you cut him off, your voice dwindling. “I only see you as a friend. One of my best friends.” You raise your hand to graze his jaw and he flinches at your touch, his brows squeezing together. “I care about you so much…but not like that. I’m sorry."

Something shifts in Ethan’s eyes, the light in them dimming.

"I see."

The coldness of his deep timbre sends a wave of ice through your veins.

He scoffs meanly, a manic glint waltzing in his brown gaze, "So you’d throw yourself at any random guy but not me?” He corrals your jaw in a bruising grip. You whimper, fingers latching to his wrist to pull him away but he’s much too strong.

A devilish grin curves his lips as he leers down at you. “What are you, some kind of slut?” He leans over you so his lips ghost over your earshell. You quake as he mumbles chilling words into your ear. “Maybe since you’re a slut, I should treat you like one.”

You unleash an audible breath, your lip wobbling.

Suddenly, there’s no more air, no more space. Only Ethan’s large frame pinning you to the bed as his hands wander over you, feeling everywhere at once.

Struggling is for naught, his ardent mouth tracing the column of your neck.

He nips at your skin and you sob.

"No, Ethan, please. This isn’t you,” you plead, fat tears rolling down your face.

His hand creeps inside your shorts and your heart skips a beat. A squeal tears from your throat as he plucks at your folds through your panties. 

Ethan muffles your scream by draping his hand over your mouth. You look up at him with fearful eyes, adrenaline rushing through your blood.

Palming your core, Ethan unleashes a devious chuckle.

"Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he whispers, yanking a broken wail from you when he pinches your bundle of nerves.

~

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #scream #bimbo!reader #scream fanfic

[fdelopera]

Musings on the Moon Knight System for the High Holidays

BROKE: Moon Knight System in the comics are Jewish in name only. They’re basically pagan idolaters.

WOKE: Jake is MK System’s spiritual protector in the comics (especially MacKay), and connects the most with their Jewish identity.

BESPOKE: The Moon Knight System are very Jewish, but Marc, Steven, and Jake have a lot of specific religious trauma, and they each connect to their Jewishness in different ways and at different times ... just as most Jews do. Their Jewishness is an intrinsic part of who they are.

At the Rosh Hashanah 2nd day service yesterday, the Rabbi said something that brought Moon Knight System to mind.

During the Malchuyot, Zichronot, and Shofarot prayers, she said this before the Zichronot prayer:

“Jews are all about memory. We tell and retell the stories of our ancestors to link our generations together. We tell the story of the Exodus and redemption, and these are human memories. Here in the Zichronot section, we consider G-d's memory. What we are asking in Zichronot is, "Am I remembered? Is my life in G-d's memory?" And the answer is, yes. Adonai remembers each one of us, every single creature created in G-d's image is seen and noticed.”

And yet, what about those of us who are dissociative? What about those of us whose memory is scattered, fragmented, and traumatized, just like the Jewish people have been throughout our history?

What about those of us whose memory stops at a certain point, just as our family tree goes back only a few generations to those who escaped the pogroms and the Holocaust? Yes, we can trace some of our ancestors across the ocean to the shtetls, and we can search for the deep root systems that our people have grown from, but we know that if we do, we will only find tragedy and death.

For every one of our ancestors who has a gravestone in an intact Jewish cemetery in the Old Country, there are countless others whose roots were cut, who were murdered by Romans and Inquisitors and Cossacks and Nazis, whose bodies were desecrated, and who were never buried in Jewish soil. And yet, even as the Nazis and the Russians and the Spanish and the Romans and so many others tried to erase us from living memory, still we persevered. There are still some branches left. Our cultural memory endures, even though it is fragmented.

And yet, what of us who strain to remember? What of those of us who have high walls instead of doorways, keeping us out? Perhaps we can even see trees growing on the other side, but we cannot enter, not yet. How then can we connect to our past? Must we wander for another 40 years? And on Yom Kippur, how can we atone if remembrance is scattered and hidden like the Lost Tribes of Israel?

I imagine that Marc has wondered thoughts like these from time to time, especially around the High Holidays. Marc wants to think of himself as an apostate. If he’s being particularly edgy, he might even describe himself as an idolater. But I don’t think he is. Marc has a Jewish soul. So does Jake and so does Steven.

And as much as Marc might want to think that he is beyond atonement for the things he’s done, perhaps in quiet moments, he still hopes to atone as best he can. Perhaps some nights, Marc and Jake and Steven share dreams of teshuvah, of repentance, of making amends. With Gena. With Crawley. With Frenchie. And yet, how to even begin?

Perhaps Elias Spector, the Orthodox rabbi, might once have read the following passage on Rosh Hashanah as he spoke to the congregation from the bimah. And even if Marc was dissociating into the ether when he heard these words, sitting as far away from his father as possible, halfway to hiding deep within, the duty of being the Rabbi's son weighing heavy on his shoulders ... perhaps Jake and Steven listened, and they remembered for all of them:

“When a person commits a sin and does not turn in repentance, when that person forgets the sin, Hakadosh Baruch Hu remembers. When a person fulfills a commandment by doing a good deed, but forgets about it, Hakadosh Baruch Hu remembers. When a person commits a sin and later turns in repentance by remembering that sin, Hakadosh Baruch Hu grants atonement, and forgets the sin. But when a person fulfills a commandment and is constantly filled with self-praise because of it, Hakadosh Baruch Hu forgets it. What a person forgets, G-d remembers, and what a person remembers, G-d forgets.” -- The Hasidic Master Shmelke of Nikolsberg

Shana tovah and g’mar chatima tovah to the Moon Knight System. May they be inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life.

#moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #rosh hashanah #moon knight comics #jed mackay #judaism tag

[sophswritingthings]

listen… seen a lot of the trope where mizu pushes away / distances off from the reader to avoid attachment. yeah that trope…. except eventually mizu falls HARD for the reader but the reader thinks that she hates them so they avoid her and just hangs out with ringo instead cooking food and preparing medicine. 👀

pairing: mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, angst for all you weak sapphics..... like myself

a/n: yo I read this and I swear I grabbed my chest IN PAIN

summary: you were so convinced that mizu hated you. she hated you with a passion to her heart; but you learn that is the farthest thing from the truth.

word count: 1,410 words / 7,420 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

mizu was sure from the day that she met you; that she felt something for you. it was deep inside her heart. it weighed her down like the weights on her body.

she couldn't get too close though. she spoke to you rarely, only doing it when she needed to. she kept her distance. she couldn't be attached to you; she had a purpose to fulfill. a purpose she couldn't have people getting in the way of; especially not you.

but she definitely noticed you. oh, god, did she notice you. those beautiful eyes, the way your hair fell on your shoulders. the flower you wore in your hair. she had no clue what it meant; but it meant something. she wanted to know, dear god, did she want to know.

she had fallen for you, and at this point, it wasn't something she could deny. she wanted to deny it--damn it, did she want to deny it! but she couldn't. it was a love so close to her heart that it had a grip on her. a grip that wouldn't loosen.

but it still couldn't distract her from her mission--so she pushed you away. she pushed you so far away, it had convinced you that she hated you. hated you with the same fiery flame that she hated the man who made her. the men she was sworn to kill.

so you opted to spend your time with ringo; mizu's sweet and kind hearted "apprentice" not that mizu would ever admit she did have him as her apprentice, and that she did enjoy his company.

why'd you have to fall for this hard ass of a samurai and not a sweet soul like ringo?

you sighed, sorting through herbs and spices with the young man. you glanced at him. he had known mizu longer, if only for a little longer. maybe he would know something of the woman.

"ringo, i have a question," you brush your fingers across his arm, catching his attention. "what do you know of mizu?"

"what do I know of her? well, I feel we know the same amount," he chuckled, turning back to his bowl of herbs and spices as he mixed and mixed. "a skilled samurai and a fierce warrior."

"well.. yes, I know that," you murmur, handing him another bottle of spice. "but... emotionally. what do you know of her.. emotionally?"

he hummed in a gentle "hmmm", "she doesn't open up very much, (y/n)."

"hence why I thought maybe you'd know," you sigh. "I think she hates me, ringo. I really think she hates me."

"hates you? why, I--"

he stopped himself. god, why did he stop himself?

"ringo..." you whisper, "what--do you know? all I need to know is she doesn't want me dead."

"of course she does not want you dead," he chuckles.

you take in a sharp inhale, "well, that much is good," you laugh with him. "has she... she hasn't said anything else, has she?"

"she does say how annoying you are. how annoying your pretty face is, your pretty eyes and your distracting smile--"

ringo pauses again. seems he realizes he's said too much.

you scoff, "you're fucking with me," you hiss. "she--she couldn't of said that. no, not mizu. she'd never say that."

"I would never lie to you, (y/n)," ringo raises an eyebrow at you. "you are my best friend."

fuck.

fuck. fuck!

ringo was maybe the most honest person in the entire world. you knew he wasn't lying to you. not that you didn't want to hear it, but...

"I, um, thank you, ringo."

frankly; you didn't know what to make of the information. could you just approach mizu and tell her? no, that'd never work. she'd deny everything in a damn heartbeat.

"you.. wouldn't mind me telling you something, would you, ringo?"

"of course not!" he smiles that bright smile.

"i.. really like mizu. like.. in a love, kind of way," you blushed brightly. "I always thought she hated me."

"can I tell you a secret?" he giggles, leaning into your ear. "I think she likes you in a love way, too."

the words were music to your ears.

you were going to talk to her, and you were gonna do it now. you gently patted ringo's head as you stood up.

"thank you ringo," you smile. "im... gonna go talk to her."

"yes!" ringo chirps, smiling, "(y/n) must tell master how she feels."

you giggle, "and I will. I'll be back!"

you slip out of the room, finding mizu getting ready to soak in the bathroom in the house they had been staying at. the two of you lock eyes, for a moment, before she disappears into the room fully.

you follow. god, you followed her. were you actually looking to make her hate you?

"um, mizu," you clear your throat, catching her attention. she was half dressed, now, her binded chest now exposed to you fully. she looked to be reaching for her hair.

she nods her head to acknowledge your presence. "(y/n)," the way your name rolled off her tongue made your heart race.

"I had just been speaking to ringo, and--ive.. decided you speak yo you about something," that was when you began undressing. you removed the flower in your hair, slipping out of your kimono and wading into the water. you might as well do this somewhere she didn't have access to her sword.

she looks at you with a puzzled expression, her eyes following the curves of your body as you get into the water. she does the same, dropping the rest of her clothes and getting in the water. she keeps her distance from you, though. half way across the bath.

"and what is so important that you have decided to bathe with me?"

you chuckle nervously, your eyes trailing her body. she looked so damn good soaking wet.

"you see.. i.."

you just needed to go for it.

"I am.. I find you attractive, mizu, and I believe it like you in a.. romantic, sense, im not going to hold that in anymore." you inhale sharply.

she looks at you with wide eyes. she had spent so long pushing you away, and yet here you were, confessing to her--

it hit her.

--ringo.

"what did ringo say to you?" she narrowed her eyes.

she had accidentally said so much stupid shit to her apprentice. what of it had he repeated back to you, and how deep of a hole was she in?

"tell me exactly what he told you."

you nod a little.

"h-he said you said that said I had an annoyingly pretty face.. a-and eyes, and a distracting smile--"

fuck. she did say that.. didn't she?

"he is dead to me," she grumbles under her breath. she sighed, gazing back at you. "but I digress."

surprisingly, she slid closer to you.

"I happened to say those things," one of her hands climb under your chin, titling you head up to meet her eyes. "is that.. a problem?"

you're face turns beat red when she touches you. you were so used to her staying so distanced it caught you off guard.

"it.. isn't a problem, no," you whisper. "I was only wondering.." your gaze slowly drifts away from hers.

she jerks your head to gaze at her again, "wondering what?"

"if you felt as I did," you murmur, gazing at her. "you.. made me feel as if you hated me."

those words stung. they really stung. that was never her intention.

"I apologize," she shifts a bit closer. "that was never what I meant to do, (y/n), it is only that... I cannot get close to people out here, for fear that they will be injured. or get me hurt. or that they will leave me."

you nod. understandable.

"I understand," you whisper. "but I have no intention of letting any of that happen."

her words light a fire inside her heart. a confidence, a passion.

she pulls you close, her hands cradling either side of your face. she presses her lips against yours, the kiss gentle yet filled with an unspoken desire. one she had carried for months...

you hummed, you hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind the samurai's ear.

she pulls back a little, a rare smile crossing her lips.

"will you do me the honor of being mine, then?"

"I certainly will."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: crying screaming throwing up

#mizu x reader #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eyed samurai #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #new fic #fic request #request #ask #asked and answered

[mewtwo24]

Sasaki and Hirano, Compare/Contrast Brainrot

Okay like I saw a post about Sasaki and Hirano’s friendship and I just. Started thinking about it and now I can’t stop. Especially after reading Hirano to Kagiura. 

I feel like they’re messed up (repressed is probably what I actually mean) in the same way but in opposite directions and that’s why they like…get along, but in the strangest manifestation of that phrasing? They care about each other almost from a periphery, from the vantage point of someone who understands, but, since they’re also still figuring it out, they don’t know quite how to interact with or guide the other?

And it’s killing me because--idk if it was just me--I kept going feral over every single time I was reading the manga and Hirano would go “oh yeah I do [insert fuckign batshit intimacy] with my roommate, this is a normal senpai/kouhai thing to do” and Sasaki literally always reacts with:

“.” (Huh. I don’t think that’s normal but who am I to judge these things. Let’s ask the local social barometer.)

“Hey Hanzawa, this [reiterates what Hirano said word-for-word] isn’t normal is it?” (Translation: “this would be inappropriate to do with Mya-chan even though I’m clawing at the walls just thinking about it”)

And Hanzawa, bless his heart, who is only a fraction more normal about social interaction than everyone else is just like:

“.” [W H A T]

“Sasaki, what. Of course you shouldn’t be doing that. W H Y ARE YOU ASKING ME THIS”

AND THIS HAPPENS MANY TIMES IN THE SPAN OF TWENTY CHAPTERS. I CANNOT EXPRESS ENOUGH THE HILARITY BUT ALSO CONCERN IT INSPIRES TO WATCH.

More detailed analysis under the cut, I just can’t stop laughing at the way the manga compares them:

Sasaki fascinates me because, as I take stock again, it feels like he’s got this dread when it comes to change (e.g. Ogasawara and his gf dating--thus changing his relationship with both of them, asking Miyano out--risking losing him, confessing that he’s dating a boy to his sister--risking her enduring and fervent disapproval). So much of his younger teenage angst was related to being reluctant to start or do things, and while it’s easy to assume laziness, I don’t think that’s the case? He says in the manga: “There’s nothing I can do, so how am I supposed to know what I want to do then…?” I get a sense that this trapped feeling contributes to his dissatisfaction and stasis more than a refusal to do anything at all. I don’t think he lacks capacity; he’s proven to be exceptionally clever and even studious when he feels motivated. 

Considering the lack of interest his parents had in his life (let alone his hobbies/skills) and his sister’s overbearing scrutiny, I feel like it makes sense he’s struggled so much with his self-actualization. I feel like he perceives it as being caught between hot and cold extremes constantly; like no matter what he does, he’ll either receive indifference or loud chastising. So why bother at all? It would explain why he likes Miyano’s temperament so much, considering the latter quite literally is defined by his normalcy and even keel. When Sasaki wants to move forward in their relationship, Miyano seriously considers both their feelings, and thoroughly weighs the realities of what it would mean to be together before replying. While Sasaki wants to be closer to him, I think so much of his willingness to wait was the fact that Miyano wasn’t evading him. Miyano was being honest and thorough about meeting him halfway, without insulting his feelings or flat out ignoring him.

(Side note: I fully agree that Sasaki’s sister is a positive influence in his life, in that she actually gave a damn when he was downspiraling and miserable, and pointed out that all kids need limits and guidance. But she is loud and forceful about her acknowledgement, and I feel like this is very grating to Sasaki. For better or worse, it’s clear he has a hard time with such a direct and intense approach about what he should think and feel, and about what he needs. Sasaki shows indications of a kind of mindset where he thinks he needs to shoulder all the tough and heavy things alone, so it makes sense to me that he would be uncomfortable with his sister proclaiming how he is lost or bereft of attention/discipline.)

I think there’s also the fact that Miyano witnessed Sasaki at his most vulnerable--and instead of lashing out--offered him help and sympathy, real warmth and patience. Sasaki has always meant a lot to me as a character, maybe because he resonates in such a poignant way. He’s somebody who has lived under such emotional extremes, and as a result deeply values a sense of normalcy. Where one could argue Miyano is unassuming and ordinary, I think that’s part of why Sasaki likes being with him.  With Miyano, he doesn't have to guess at the distance between them; Miyano is earnest and careful about those differences, and is very direct about addressing them with reciprocity.

Now then, Hirano. I know very little about Hirano’s home life other than his being an only child. But to be honest, that does tell us a bit--paired with his subtle social anxieties. I will never forget Sasaki saying to Miyano ‘that’s because Hirano plays favorites with his kouhais’ about the gap between his behavior towards his younger classmates versus everyone else. While Sasaki’s petulance is uproarious, there is something to that. (I also love how this exposes Sasaki, lowkey, because he’s basically saying that he’d only do that with his favorite people, aka Miyano. But otherwise he could never be bothered to care about a rando, and that’s hilarious.)

I think Hirano--because he doesn’t really have a sense of how he’s supposed to relate to other people--tends to follow the same strict guidelines you might see in a rule book (DISCIPLINE COMMITTEE COUGH COUGH). Supposing he was taught--or simply feels responsibility towards younger kids as a result of reflective parental neglect--it would explain why he feels this rigid need to treat kouhais like little siblings. At first glance, and honestly when you consider his general aloofness, it doesn’t make much sense that he has a mothering sensibility otherwise. 

Now then, because I realized this while writing and I have to inflict this on everyone else in rapid succession, this would explain his initial staunch discomfort with Kagiura’s affection. In the context of Hirano’s lifestyle/mindset:

Hirano → relationships with people? Don’t understand that, refer to following flowchart:

→ younger = responsibility, must protecc

→ same age = keep them in line

→ older = respect (but only if I feel like it HAIR DYE NOISES INTENSIFY)

Mind you, I don’t think this is limited to his platonic/friendship relations. I think this permeates into so many other aspects of his life, since sociality is inevitably a focal point for all human life. If he feels an uncharacteristic leniency and profound affection for Kagiura, then it must be because he's a kouhai he wants to protect, nothing more. He has no other reason or definition by which to ascribe to those feelings. Hirano doubly insisting he can’t be attracted to men is because he’s been so inundated in the widespread social signals, the social rule that has been long standing--and remains a pretty powerful message even now--that it’s unlikely (and that’s a gentle term) he’s attracted to another man. 

After all, He is So Good At Being A Normal Young Man. He’s in the discipline committee. He gets excellent grades. He’s a kind and helpful senpai. He keeps his classmates in line. Of Course He Likes Women, What Do You Mean Gay.

He’s basically that meme like: “'Men can be attracted to other men' actually statistical error. Average men only feel attraction for women. Sasamiya is an outlier and should not be counted."

Both Hirano and Sasaki hate change/unpredictability, but I really love how complex their differences are in regards to how they experience that and feel that. Sasaki hates change, but he’s not necessarily emotionally repressed? He’s able to express what he feels for Miyano because he feels it so strongly, and it comes naturally when he does. In fact, it’s so natural that he becomes impulsive--and that’s why he gets so anxious about moving too far or too fast by accident. He has the overthink override, where if the attraction is too strong he simply Can’t Shut Up About How Much He Loves Miyano or stop hugging/kissing him.

Hirano hates change in the sense that he’s so ensconced in this idea that This Is Normal Human Behavior, that he completely loses sight of how he actually feels about anything--because he rejects/suppresses anything he can’t coherently define in a scripted, linear way. And being asked to tread that unstable, unsteady ground is tantamount to throwing a cat in water with no warning. This is why it’s so sad but also HYSTERICALLY FUNNY to see him like “wym I have feelings for Kagiura. It's perfectly normal to start yelling with all the wounded rage of a scorned housewife over my kouhai not letting me wake him up for morning practice. That is what it means to be a senpai.” Because he has no blueprint for how he’s supposed to express a love that goes deeper than friendship (with a man no less), he defaults to these overly simplistic structures that can’t support the complexity/maturity of such adult human feeling and exchanges. They worked for him just fine before, so why won’t they work for him now?

Relegating Kagiura to the role of kouhai makes it easier for Hirano to conceptualize why he cares so much for him, but it also limits the scope of his view. He’s using it as an umbrella term in a sense: of course he doesn’t find every little thing about Kagiura infuriating/boring/troublesome. Being the older person means being responsible and chill about everything. But that’s the thing. He’s not indulging Kagiura the same way he indulges Miyano, despite him qualifying them the same way. With Miyano it’s super clear Hirano really does just see him as a baby duckling, someone to treat gently and usher around. His behavior around Kagiura is so astronomically different in comparison, it’s nearly comical to try to compare them:

It’s Kagiura’s birthday. Hirano, who probably hardly remembers people’s birthdays, deadass went around asking every person he was close to (like, 5 ppl) for advice. He agonized over it for days on end. He gets Kagiura tickets to a basketball game and an alarm clock, and spends the entire day with him. He asks Hanzawa if he can use party poppers to celebrate Kagiura on the day of, and to get around the rules when he’s told no he has everyone go hog wild with them at the Christmas party in a loophole maneuver to celebrate. Reminder to myself and everyone reading, this is BEFORE he even hears a word about Kagiura’s feelings.

THIS IS BEFORE EITHER OF THEM ARE IN ANY KIND OF INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP. HIRANO, WHO IS MR. “i only study or drag people to baby jail, what do you want,” SPENT ENTIRE DAYS PAINSTAKINGLY PLANNING ALL OF THIS. FOR KAGIURA’S BDAY. AFTER ONE OFFHAND COMMENT FROM KAGIURA OF LIKE mannnn having an xmas bday sucks ass, they just try to lump it tg with holiday presents booooo :///

That Hirano conceptualizes Kagiura as a kouhai has been established. But another angle that’s equally crucial is this equation:

Hirano → adore person? Devote Every Minute To Being Nice^TM

→ hate person? angry cat hissing sounds/smack with paper roll

→ mild dislike? Lowkey grousing/sarcasm/dismissal

→ neutral? (this is most people btw) refer to earlier chart for appropriate social etiquette

This is pretty much where Hirano gives himself away. Because even in his most inflexible rules for himself, we’ve never seen him convey so much feeling for anyone around him so helplessly. It can be argued that he might have in the past, but honestly, I doubt it. The feeling is so confusing and new to him that it leads me to believe so much of his difficulty accepting what he feels is related to its unfamiliarity. He can’t trust it as real precisely because he can’t control or neatly define it. (This made doubly disconcerting by the fact that he doesn’t have a typical social structure to work from either. If his parents, for instance, are anything like Hanzawa’s, it’s possible his conception of love between a couple is about devotion to remain together to fulfill a sense of status/purpose to create a new life. He would have zero concept of love that comes from the very depths of a person’s emotional being, a call and response that is as instinctive as it is fulfilling.)

Sasaki feels an intense desire to be close to Miyano, and thus acts accordingly because he trusts his feelings. On the other hand, he has trouble measuring the distance between himself and others. (e.g. he thinks he will lose his friends if they date, his sister acts like a parent but is also a kid and that makes it hard for him to know how to interact, he struggles to convey himself properly to Miyano when he brings up escalating to dating). Hirano, on the other hand, doesn’t realize the intensity of his affection and heartfelt proximity to Kagiura because he’s so busy tying himself up in knots over what he’s supposed to feel and think that he doesn’t trust his feelings. Rather, he is only given away by how obscenely his actions expose him. Comparatively, he has less trouble measuring the distance between himself and others when it comes to anyone but Kagiura.

(Perhaps obviously, Kagiura has Sasaki’s whole ‘if I don’t hug/kiss/bark at him I’ll die’ emotional expression and Miyano has the cautious measuring of distance between people and difficulty accepting gay like Hirano.)

God they’re both so quintessentially queer it hurts me. One can’t shut up about his love, and the other literally cannot open his mouth and express his feelings or he’ll die. 

NARRATIVE FOILS EVERYONE

(Also unsure if it’s me but wow. They are so. Autism. And that also kills me akhfjldghjgdsfhkdfjhg)

#hirano to kagiura #sasaki to miyano #hirano taiga #sasaki shuumei #kagiura akira #miyano yoshikazu #hanzawa masato #if anyone manages to read through this i salute you #i just couldn't stop thinking about the two of them #mind you this is only what i noticed on a first reading of the manga #i can't guarantee i won't breach containment again upon a second reading i apologize in advance #AUGHGHGHGHGH [myriad agonized noises] #truly the sasamiya-verse exists to inflict emotional dmg on me #also all my love to everyone who's replied to my posts with such kind words/affirmations???? #im not really used to fandoms that like analysis alhlgdhdkskhjasf #i found my people? it seems

[toji-girl]

there for you | k. ryuguji

synopsis: Life sometimes doesn't go the way you want, people make mistakes but this one wasn't a mistake, it was one of the best things that has ever happened to you, no matter the hurt it caused others.

wc: 2.8k

tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + not beta read + repost from my old blog + angst with the smut + cheating from reader + high sex [ducon] + weed + shotgunning + you're married to Mikey + fighting between you and him + slight sexting + fingering + squirting + unprotected sex + creampie + spitting + daddy kink + if Mikey is one of your favorites this might be your cup of tea [I do love him] 

an: this was my submission for the REDDIT-INSPIRED COLLABORATION hosted by @ohkento!

People would say that sleeping with your ex-brother-in-law and best friend's wife while he's out of town on business, would be an asshole move, right?

They just didn't know the circumstances of what led up to it. Only you and Draken do. A dark secret you both are taking to the grave.

You didn't mean to send the half-naked picture to him. Well, maybe not the first one, at least. He complimented you endlessly on how beautiful you looked, and how lucky he is to see such an art form. 

As of late, he's been giving you more attention than your own husband has, which isn't acceptable in any shape or form but you still ate it up greedily like a starved puppy.

And you'd be lying if you didn't think the tall, dark-haired man wasn't cute, and you knew him when you met Mikey at a young age.

Your mother forbade you to hang out with such 'trash' even after you and she got into endless arguments, and you ended up running away with him and Mikey pretty much, but it was thrilling to do so. Mikey wouldn't put you in any real danger though.

But he made sure you'd have your fun and also had his friends watch over you, especially Draken, who developed a serious crush on you before he started liking Emma but then after you and his friend got together it was all swept under the rug for a multitude of reasons. 

Now after being married to Manjiro for almost a decade the flame that once was strong and could burn down the world was a barely-there flame. The slightest breeze would put it out leaving nothing but smoke that would whoosh away as well.

And a part of you hated to admit that your mother was right when she said that Mikey would end up hurting you, and he did but it wasn't in the way she thought. His long business trips were weighing on you more than you really thought they would. 

He was gone more than he was at home, which made you feel like one of those cliche lonely housewives, but if it was true, then it isn't too far off. Mikey reverted back to his old ways months ago.

Between the fighting and everything else.

Draken got the front seat when he was around which was more times than not, a lot of the times he'd bring his son to see you and his uncle but his mini him stayed attached to your side thankfully this time it was just the three of you sitting in the living room talking. 

"You're going to be gone for an entire month? What - what about me Mikey? I can't even tell you the last time you hugged me or held me, your little missions are so much more important than me? Our marriage?" You asked in a pinched tone as you stared at him. 

Having an audience to the downfall of your marriage brought tears to your eyes as did the blank stare your husband gave you, his eyes blinking owlishly watching you cry for him. 

You stomped to the bedroom, sure to slam the door enough to rattle the walls, and if you had to guess a few of your husband's wounds popped back open bleeding into his soul.

The very same one, he said you fixed and mended, but you didn't believe it anymore. You worked hard on getting him back, doing everything you could.

When he gets back home from trips, you'd greet him at the door naked with dinner on the table only for him to tell you he was exhausted.

Not that you'd ever blame him, you know what you were getting into when you married him, but you didn't know it could hurt this bad.

And you always thought that your sex life wouldn't die out either, until it has. You can't even remember the last time you saw your husband's dick or his interest in you.

Many times, you pleaded for him to get help, talk to you, or anything of the sort but he flat out refused which left you alone and frustrated.

"Hey...he's gone. Can I come in?" Draken asked from the other side of the door as he rapt his knuckles on the heavy wood with a sigh.

You wiped at the tears flowing down your face while you sniffled and pressed the heel of your palm into your eyes. "I really don't care."

He pushed the door open and stepped inside with his hands in his pockets looking at you unsure what to say. "I'm not mad at you, your best friend is not the man I married."

Dark eyes softened as he crossed the threshold into uncertainty to sit down next to you. Draken is very familiar with the term 'a shoulder to cry on becomes a dick to ride on.'

"I know. He's - you know, Mikey. I've talked to him, and said it would end up like Emma and me did." He replied with a shrug. 

"Thankfully, we don't have a kid - oh, that was not nice of me. I'm sorry, Ken, I'm just a big ball of emotions. What did he say to that?" You questioned softly, curious on his answer of another failed marriage, his own sisters no less.

You both turned your heads at the same time and looked at each other. "Not much, I don't think anyone can help him anymore."

His sentence felt like a turtleneck sweater that was too tight as your throat formed a lump, making it hard to breathe or swallow.

Draken pulled his hands from his pockets and rubbed his large palms over his jeans. "Call me if you need anything." He told you before standing up giving you one more glance before leaving you alone.

Morning came with a heartache knowing Mikey was already gone, and you knew he didn't sleep in the bed last night. Everything came as it always did, doing the same things daily until it was time for bed.

Later the next night you lay in bed taking pictures in an attempt to feel good about yourself capturing a few good ones sending them to Mikey, unknowingly they went to Ken as well who saw it immediately.

It went unseen on your husband's phone, but not his friend who was staring at it feeling all his blood rush between his legs at work which was not a good place to pop one of those around all the guys.

Incoming message

Ken: Tryin' to get me in trouble?

You read his text feeling flustered thankful it wasn't a totally nude one, but he could use his imagination to see the rest of you bare for him, your flesh looked so biteable, his teeth ached to sink into you.

But you couldn't lie the attention was nice even though it was from Ken, the relationship was already complicated, to begin with, and this was pushing more boundaries but you sent another one anyway.

Outgoing message

You: No, but maybe I am now. Come by for dinner?

He ducked into his office and locked the door looking at the picture you sent him, your bra off and bare tits out for his greedy eyes to take in. Now his dick was extremely painfully hard and throbbing now.

Dark eyes scanned his screen reading your invitation with an arched brow knowing he needed to say no and delete the pictures, not reaching down with an open palm to rub against his bulge.

He pulled away and tapped his reply before sliding his phone into his pocket knowing he was going to end up fucking you later if you ask, it's been a long time since he's been with anyone.

He knows you're lonely, plus it's not right with how Mikey is treating you and his son isn't with him this week who you happen to be the aunt of, instead, he's with his ex until he picks him up on Monday.

You waited for his answer for a few minutes feeling dread fill your stomach as you slipped your wedding ring off and pulled your bra back on when he FaceTimed you. Hitting the answer button you looked at him on the screen. "Keep it off. I want you for dessert."

His voice was dark as he looked at you then the curves of your breasts. "I get off in an hour, see you then." With that, he hung up leaving you an estimated time to get ready for him.

In that time, you cleaned up, made dinner, and changed your pj pants into shorts keeping the tank top on without the bra when you let Ken inside. "Smells good, thanks for the invite." He murmured with a grin.

"Not a problem, also I rolled us a joint if you want to smoke that before we eat?" You suggested taking his coat from the harsh winter wind that blew outside pushing against the door with a groan.

He grinned and nodded letting you lead the way into the kitchen where everything was already set up. Being a gentleman Ken pulled your chair out and poured the wine then lit the end of the joint.

The conversation was pleasant, something you appreciated. Not once did he bring up Mikey or Emma, nor did you. The white smoke curled around you two while soft music played in the background. 

Long slender fingers stroked your shoulders playing with the strap of your tanktop. "You know the first picture was a mistake but then you replied almost immediately to it, at work might I add." Ken shrugged. 

"You look sexy what can I say?" He murmured moving his hand to the back of your neck giving it a squeeze as he leaned in pressing his lips against yours blowing smoke into your awaiting mouth with a kiss. 

Ken pulled away to puff on the joint before giving it to you to serve dinner where you both shared a plate feeding each other, the eye contact so intense your heart beat like a heavy dream in your chest. 

After more conversation about your day, he helped you clean up and sat back down on the couch with you draping his arm over your shoulder grabbing the remote to change the music, the beat more sensual and the lyrics turned sexual in nature making you flustered. 

You looked up at him with a lazy smile, your eyes red and glassy as your hand stroked up and down his arm. "Tell me you want this too, beg me to touch you." He murmured squishing your lips together. 

"I want you to touch me, Ken, please." You whispered and let him pull your tanktop straps down slowly until it was pooled around your waist baring your tits to his greedy large palms that cupped them. 

A sigh escaped your lips when he dragged his thumb over your pebbled nipples leaning in to taste your lips again, his tongue tangled with yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless and wet. 

Ken pulled the rest of your clothes off just as slowly leaving behind a trail of wet open-mouthed kisses as his hand slid down between your legs his finger pressing into the wet slick spot with a squelch. 

You parted your legs wider for him letting him have more access to your bare pussy with a low growl. "So wet, all just from a little bit of kissing? How cute. She's weeping for me." He husked in your ear. 

No matter how bad you wanted to look at him you couldn't so you opted to close your eyes and let him pump two long slender fingers inside you, his thumb caressed your clit in a soft circle dripping spit down and pooling around where he was buried knuckle deep. 

He nipped at your bottom lip feeling his cock throb between his legs as you palmed at him tugging at the band of his sweatpants letting the heat rise between you two. "Want you so bad please, baby." 

Your hand slid into his boxers stroking his cock from base to tip slowly as he curled his fingers hooking them against your g-spot. "Look so good for me like this, wanna cum 'f me? Be a good girl and squirt for daddy." Ken demanded testing the waters for that kink. 

This time you looked at him as you let go of him to hump his fingers wildly as he sunk to his knees between your legs stroking your clit with his fingers pushing you over the edge until you squirted. 

Ever the gentleman he was, Ken lapped up the mess lewdly as he withdrew his fingers from you to tug his sweats and boxers down freeing his aching cock that bobbed from the sheer weight of it. 

You both looked at each other then down between your legs as he hooked his arms under your knees and pulled you closer to the edge of the couch rubbing the tip between your pussylips. "You sure still?" 

It's been months since you've done anything like this, borderline a year, and you didn't care about anything else but him fucking your pussy making it a puff cream like you deserved. "I am yes! Please!" 

The room filled with the musky scent of sex and desired pants as he thrust the tip inside your tight pussy with a strained grunt, his fingers squished the fat on your thighs keeping your legs spread obscenely wide for him to bare witness sinking into you with a guttural moan. 

You both let out unashamed moans, feeling how you mold around his cock. It felt even better while floating from the joint, Ken bottomed out, leaning down to kiss you deeply. 

His tongue met yours as he rolled his hips nice and slow, making sure you felt him as he scattered kisses all over your face. "You feel so good." He whispered against your neck softly. 

With your legs wrapped around him, he used his  strength to flip positions, putting you on top of him. "Go slow. You're getting greedy with it." 

Your eyes focused on his as you sat down, fully feeling the air get knocked from your lungs as you gripped his shoulders. "Because I want it." 

He huffed, blowing a chunk of dark hair from his face as you leaned in and sat up, letting the tip of his dick stay inside of you before sitting down again, repeating the motion while kissing him. 

It couldn't be helped. His soft lips felt nice against yours as he held your hips guiding you into riding his cock until you see fit. His teeth finally found your neck biting down at the soft flesh nipping it gently. 

Ken left soft love bites that would disappear in an hour all over your shoulder as he fucked into you from below. "You're so pretty riding me. I might keep you as mine." He huffed loudly letting his head fall back against the couch watching you fuck him. 

Your pussy clenched around him as you ground down now rubbing your clit against his pubic bone hearing the soft wet suctioning sounds of where you two met in an erotic dance that left you moaning from swollen mushroom head kissing your cervix. 

His hands squished your ass cheeks together, hitting a certain spot when he rocked up into you. "Good girl, want me to cum in you?" Ken asked as he leaned forward to kiss your breasts again, his mouth latched onto your nipple suckling hungrily as you nodded wildly.

With your fingers buried in his hair that came free from his braid, you tugged on it pushing him closer to you chanting his name like a prayer that poured from your open mouth like a river. "Draken!" 

Ken grunted as he gripped your asscheeks feeling your pussy ripple around him wet and so fucking tight he couldn't help it any longer and filled you to the brim with thick cum that seeped from your cunt. 

The both of you stayed like that coming down from your high as you buried your face in his neck, the reality of what happened finally hit you like a truck as your phone rang, Mikey's name popped on the screen as Ken looked at it then you with a heavy sigh. 

Sex clung heavily to you as you cupped Draken's cheeks pressing soft honey kisses along his face. "Thank you for making me feel appreciated and beautiful, I know this is beyond the scope of wrong but I really enjoyed our time together, don't leave me tonight please." 

Dark eyes widened at your request. It was something he wasn't expecting, he figured you just wanted his dick but it was clear how truly lonely you are and it made him mad as hell at Mikey for treating you this way and how lucky he is that he's the one there for you. 

#tw: infidelity #tw: dubcon #tw: weed #Ken smut #ken ryuguji smut #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuuguji smut #ken ryuguji #Draken smut #Draken x reader smut #tokyo revengers smut #ken x you smut #draken x yn smut #tr smut #tr x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut

[queenie-official]

Chapter Five: ‘A royal wedding’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3, 4

a/n: sorry this took a while to get out guys😅 i was hanging out with my bestie since she was visiting home from college😋😋 anyways i ended up cutting most dialogue from this chapter just to focus on the emotional aspect- i hope you guys still enjoy 💅✨

a royal wedding was never a small affair for any kingdom. regardless of wether it was public or made private to the people, they would celebrate the conjunction of a happy couple. which seemed ironic considering most royal marriages where strictly out of politics rather than love. you of all people where very aware of the fact considering your situation. so here you are precisely three hours before the wedding pacing in your undergarments as poor Eleanora tries to help get you dressed.

Padme sat on a stool watching you work yourself into a frenzy, she’d already tried to get you to stop but it was futile. in the end you had managed to tune her out entirely to consumed in your own thoughts and worries to process the world around you.

“y/n if you don’t stop moving you’re going to have to show up to your wedding in your underwear” Padme tried once more to garner your attention. slowing to a stop you turn to look at her and then to Eleanora who had quickly seized action the moment you stopped and began putting on your pannier, fearing if she missed the opportunity you’d be a pacing mess again.

“sorry it’s just hard to sit still knowing that i’m going to be a married women in a few hours…” you sigh out still fidgeting slightly as you stood in place but at the very least Eleanora could work with that. Traditionally there would be five to ten bridesmaids with you right now but as much as you got along with your other ladies-in-waiting you didn’t exactly trust them, so it was just the two you knew you could count on most.

“it’s okay to be nervous i was nervous when i got married to my husband” Padme said in a attempt to make you feel less alone. “yes but you did not have the weight of two kingdoms relying on your marriage” you feel the weight of the day pull you down along with what felt like the thousands of layers you where now wearing. yet still Eleanora was not done as she continued to dress you, a wave of fear that you may pass out from how heavy the dress was rushed through you but you pushed it away feeling as if that would be one of the better outcomes of the day rather then some of the other scenarios your brain had come up with.

“i’ve been thinking about it all, what today is going to be like- what the rest of my life is going to be like…” you add running a hand through your hair that still has to be done. you honestly just wished for the day to be over, then you could rest and breath properly once more. free of stress even for just a moment.

“perfectly normal thing to do your majesty” Eleanora said as she finished the final touches of basting on your engageantes. “i just can’t help but feel like something is going to go wrong” you sigh looking down to your hand and staring at the ring that now weighed down your finger, it was a pleasant weight in your opinion. something about it brought a comfort to you, even if the only reason Anakin had given it to you was out of his mothers request. clearly he had thought it worth something to choose a diamond so personal to the place he was from- or maybe you where reading into it too much.

“there’s no sense in worrying about something that has yet to happen.” Padme counters as she and Eleanora both begin to work on your hair once you take a seat in front of your vanity, you were sat at a horrible angle. unable to sit properly with how tight the corset was, you quite literally could not bend. “i feel like i’ll be better prepared if i do” you say with a small pout to your lips that makes padme laugh. “it’s yet to help you thus far” she points out as you nervously twist the ring on your finger, the only thing you could really use to occupy yourself without moving too much. “maybe i just find comfort in worrying, that’s strange isn’t it?”

“i wouldn’t say strange but i also wouldn’t say it’s normal” well you certainly could always count on Padme for being honest. your whole body ached from the position you where in as pin after pin is inserted into your hair, ensuring that everything stay in place. “by the end of today i’m going to be a wife. that doesn’t even sound real”

“the sooner you are a wife the council will schedule the coronation and Alderaan will have a queen and king again” Padme says happily probably thinking that would make you feel better since you’d finally have the control over the council you needed but all it really did was make you cringe inwardly. “No pressure” you mumble as they finish and you can stand again, feeling just a smidge of relief not having the corset dig into you as much. looking over yourself in the mirror you did have to admit for as much as it was a pain the outcome was beautiful. the dress itself was a work of art, each layer having intricate lace detailing as well as pearls and ribbons sewn in- it reminded you of the porcelain dolls you played with as a child.

“you’ll do great y/n, and we’ll be by your side through it all” Padme said with a smile and you felt yourself relax. she was right you could do this, and if something did happen you knew you had people to fall back on.

less then any minute now and you would be walking down the isle of the church. You weren’t to be seen by anybody until then, that did little to help settle your nerves. Padme and Eleanora where now waiting with the rest of the ton inside the walls of the church, you had no one to voice your thoughts to. no one to help ease you, and you found yourself growing increasingly more nauseous. the heat of the day mixed with the weight of your gown did not make it any easier for you, the earlier fear of passing out coming back in a brief wave before you pushed it down.

there you stood in one of the private rooms awaiting for the Chancellor who’d be the one to walk you down the aisle. you hated it, that he’d be the one to walk you. it felt like a cruel joke in a way, he’d been the one to convince the rest of the royal council along with Barclay of the rash decision for Anakin to be the one you marry. and now here he was being the one to hand you off to him, as much as it irked you the thing that bothered you the most was solely the fact it wasn’t your father. honestly you’d finally accepted the fact this was truly happening but now there was a grief that surrounded it. mourning the fact your parents would not be there to see you.

twisting the ring on your finger, round and round. over and over- you had to admit this was much better than pacing. less effort for sure, less dizzying since you weren’t the one going in circles. circles that matched your thoughts, round and round. you take a deep breath the door to the room opening, turning round to face the Chancellor. you felt your throat dry as you nod to him.

now walking along the corridors of the church heading to the Nave. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and for a moment you thought you may actually pass out. thankfully the sound of trumpets and a piano rang throughout the building pulling you back down to reality. the doors in front of you now opening, you could only hope you didn’t look as sickly as you felt. “your majesty” Chancellor Valorum called your attention to him, glancing him over slightly confused only to notice his extended arm. right, it was time- you take hold and force a smile hoping you looked happy enough for everyone to believe you.

you look ahead of you as you both begin walking down the aisle, finally meeting the eyes of your soon to be husband. he stood tall, and was probably dressed the best you’d ever seen him so far- though it’s not like you saw him much to begin with. you decided it best to focus solely on him, the smile on your face becoming a bit more genuine. you may not know him personally yet but you could still admire his looks- it felt a bit wrong initially like you weren’t supposed to like how he looked. as if it would diminish the fact you didn’t see him as a lover, though you guessed you should probably change that line of thinking anyway.

he was truly handsome, nice jawline. pretty eyes, curls that you felt added a boyish charm to him. and then there was his smile, you hadn’t even realized you focused in on it as you now stood before him. his hand extended for you to take so the ceremony could begin. his smile was warm and soft, it calmed you. gently taking his hand as you stand side by side now, facing one another head on. you move your gaze up meeting his eyes, soft blues that where already staring down at you. selfishly you allow yourself to get lost in them, tuning out the world around you not even listening to what the Archbishop spoke.

the only thing that reminded you of where you were and what you where doing was the sound of Anakins voice. “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” he recited the vows the archbishop had just told him which meant it was now your turn. half listening to what the archbishop said before he gave you the very same vows to repeat, nodding to let you know to go. “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” you say with a surprising confidence, you turn your face away from Anakin’s for the first time since the ceremony began.

now looking towards the archbishop as he closed the ceremony. a new ring added to both of your fingers, a wedding band.

Warmth and music, that’s all you felt as you danced a waltz with Anakin. you were actually having fun, he made it easy in all honesty. conversation between you both was flowing naturally and he made you laugh- you where pretty sure he enjoyed making you laugh. there was of course the voice in the back of your head that reminded you it was all for show. that you where both only acting like two people in love for the hundreds of eyes on you. part of you could only hope that at the very least a little bit of it was real, something small and budding that might have a chance of flourishing.

you refocus on the man in front of you, not wanting to sour a good moment with your concerns. allowing him to dance you both into a stupor, song after song. paying no one else a mind, regardless of the situation this day was about you two. a joyous occasion, and for once you did not need to think about anyone else but yourself and each other- for once you did not feel the weight of a kingdom on your shoulders. instead you felt like a normal girl from the ton dancing with a man who had simply asked for a dance, a dance that lasted for hours. of course all good things have to come to an end, and eventually your endless dance came to a halt.

you both walk hand in hand outside along the carpet preparing to speak to each guest at the ball and bid them their farewells. it was a little chilly but as it happened Anakin ran warm, and with him alongside you the chill of the night bothered you no longer.

part 6

Tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss

@bimbo-baggins86 @bby-imasociopath

okay loves🤭 i hope you enjoyed this one, i know the ball scene was a bit short but don’t worry this will not be the only Ball, and the next time there is one it will include a lot more 😋 i just wanted to focus mostly on the wedding portion and didn’t want to draw to far away from that 💋💋 anyways have a great day huns Xx

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #rots anakin #atoc anakin #star wars anakin #anakin x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader fluff #anakin x reader fluff #bridgerton au!anakin #bridgerton au!anakin x reader #bridgerton au #bridgerton #queenie’s thoughts xx<3 #Spotify

[starfall-spirit]

My gwynriquin offering is nonexistent in no shape to post yet, but my intended Secrets offering works for today as well.

@polyacotarweek Day 1: Beginnings

I like to pretend something came out of the line, "As High Lady, you are mine." This is part one. Still SFW. Part two will be NSFW. Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

As High Lady, you are mine.

Feyre couldn’t get that damn declaration out of her head. Sure her dear friend and training partner had listed every member of the inner circle as loyal people that would come to her defense, but had the second half of his statement been plaguing her thoughts for the past two weeks? Was the second half of his statement making her fearful to drop her mental shields around her own mate?

No.

Cauldron, what she’d give to forget the words he’d so casually thrown that morning. To go back to seeing him as a big brother figure and not an attractive male fueling… curiosities.

“He was frustrated with us,” she muttered to herself. “That’s all.”

“Who?”

She jumped from her seat at her desk as Rhys strolled into the office they now shared. “Rhys. I thought you’d still be out training.” The clock behind her chimed noon. Perhaps she’d just lost track of time, as Rhys was clearly bathed and changed out of his training leathers.

“Az and I finished some time ago. And you’re dodging my question.” Gliding over to the desk, he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her into a tender kiss that only fed her guilt. “If something’s bothering you, I’m always here to lend an ear. Is it something that happened in Spring? A nightmare returning?”

“I’m fine. Nothing like that, I promise.”

He gave a soft hum, sinking into the desk chair and tugging her into his lap. “Alright then. Can I ask one more question?” She nodded, wrapping her arms behind his neck and around his waist. “Cassian says you’ve been a bit distracted lately. Distancing yourself during training. I’ve noticed as much at dinner as well. He fears he’s upset you somehow.” She grimaced, turning her head. “There it is. Care to share your troubles?”

How was she supposed to say this without doing any damage?

“If you’ve had a petty argument, the bonds in our circle run deeper than that.”

Feyre flinched. As careful as she’d been with her shielding, he’d found a crack to snake past. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered. But this secret couldn’t be kept forever. Not without weighing her down. Rhys said nothing, silent and patient, one hand stroking up and down her spine as she carefully structured her confession. “Our bond is mere months old. I want to say up front, I don’t expect anything to change or open.”

He raised a brow. “To open?”

“He said something the other day,” she began again, desperately wishing she could hide her face as she confessed her horrid desire. “It was something in his tone. His phrasing. Gods, you’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Rhys wasn’t an idiot. She knew she’d given him enough crumbs by now to pick up on what had been bothering her. Humiliated, she buried her face in her hands, trying to find the words that would inflict the least damage.

That is until she felt a silent vibration against her shoulder and all brain function came to a sudden halt. Her mate was laughing at her. Daring to raise her eyes, she found an infuriating smirk on his face. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“For finding Cassian attractive? Hardly.” His smirk shifted to a more thoughtful expression, the hand rubbing her back spider-walking up her spine to summon a soft shutter. “I’ll admit, with the bond being so new I do find myself feeling a bit possessive. Very possessive,” he amended as she gave him the look. “Glare all you like, darling. We both know you don’t mind it as much as you pretend to. As short a time as we’ve been bonded, I know what it does to you when a male calls you his.”

“How did you…”

“You’ve been exceptional, solidifying and holding your shields. But no one’s perfect, my love.” Feyre groaned, the sound soft, but expressing utter mortification. “Not to mention I got a nearly identical lecture the day Cassian was well enough to stand on his own and yell at me for not dragging you home from Spring. When there’s physical attraction and emotional connections mingling, there’s only so long you can pretend it’s something platonic.”

“There’s no way you’re just… accepting this.”

“It doesn’t thrill me, considering the fresh bond, but it doesn’t plant any doubts about the two of us or my relationship with Cassian. The question now is how interested you are in exploring this. Do you want to approach him about it?”

Feyre thought a moment, reading into the tension in the set of his shoulders, the slight change in his breathing, the set of his jaw. He’d put his feelings aside for her, as he always had, but he was not prepared to open their relationship in any way yet, and truly assessing her own feelings, with her confession behind her, neither was she. “No, Rhys. Not yet.” ~~~~~ Several weeks later, Feyre was struggling to stay true to her denial. The problem, Cassian had volunteered to substitute for Azriel in her flight training, as the spymaster was outside of the city for the next two days. To put it simply, while she had improved several required skills in flight maneuvering and wasn’t constantly plummeting into the lake, she still needed correction on multiple points in her form and technique.

While Az had taken a verbal approach to providing pointers, Cassian appeared to be a bit more hands on. He asked for her consent, of course. Illyrians were taught not to touch others’ wings without permission from an early age. But with that permission she became hyper-aware of every little adjustment and guiding touch to her wings, conscious of the heat of his body behind her.

She’d grown used to the close proximity of their daily physical training and fit into it easily enough. Her attraction to him hadn’t changed anything on that front, once her guilt had faded. But this wasn’t the short and sharp impact of a fist or a brief moment being pinned to the mat—though the latter could be hard to brush off at times. This was downright intimate.

His thumb graze the ridge of one of the more delicate bones, prominent from the back of her wings, finally fracturing her resistance. “I think…” She cleared her throat. “I think this should be the last attempt today. Like you said a minute ago, the winds are picking up and I have a lot to catch up on. The official things, I mean.”

He quirked a brow. “Official things?”

“Court things. With Rhys. In our office. You know, official things.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment, but he nodded when she held her position. “Of course. One last try, like you said. And remember what I told you about the updraft coming in.” She nodded, but was still thrown off, wings angled in a way that did the exact opposite of what she was attempting. “It’s a tough one,” Cassian told her, trying to ease her frustration. “And Az was right. He’s probably a better instructor for you with his experience.”

Feyre didn’t bother pointing out this was no longer about mental blocks. “Thanks, Cass. I’ll see you.”

The second she winnowed to the townhouse and found Rhys, she knew she had his full attention. She didn’t care for the clear suspicion on his face either. “Interesting flight lesson, Feyre darling?”

“It was somewhat successful,” she said honestly. “Until the winds picked up.”

He nodded, tugging her flush against his chest. “And was Cassian able to instruct you as well as Az?”

“His methods were different, but worked well enough.”

“Different?”

“Not as verbal,” she gritted out.

“Ah.” He smiled into her neck. “Starting to see how easily you can torture a male, touching his wings?”

She smirked, even as he grazed a nail over the sensitive joint where the membrane met her leathers, summoning a shiver. “You’ve made that no secret,” Feyre murmured, folding one side of his shirt collar down to flick her tongue over the skin she exposed.

Growling softly, Rhys drew back, raising her chin. “It’s going to take more than that if you’re trying to distract me from what I felt through the bond. The tension slipping through.” She winced. “Did he notice it? Return it?”

Feyre blinked. Despite the results of their original conversation, he almost seemed hopeful. “If he did, he hid it well.” They both knew Cassian would never be the type to get between them. Especially considering he was clueless to Rhys' stance in all of this. Hell, Feyre couldn’t quite figure it out yet either. “Rhys—”

“I don’t want to hear an apology regarding any of this, Feyre. And over the past few weeks I’ve been reconsidering the thought of sharing you.” His fingers curled around the back of her neck, his thumb stroking down the side of her throat. “Reminiscing our wild youth.” Her brows shot to her hairline and he chuckled. “In five-hundred years, you try a thing or two.”

She nodded. “So, if I wanted to try a thing or two?”

His lips curled back into that soft smirk, his mental shields parting. “Show me.”

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @stars-and-scripts // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone

#acotar #polyamory #feysand #feyssian #feyre x rhysand x cassian #inspired by a quote #fanfiction #poly+acotarweek2024 #feysand fic #feyssian fic

[supercorpkid]

Powergirl Should Die

Supergirl. Powergirl. B!D. Kara Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Alex Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Lena Luthor, Winn Schott.

Word Count: 2550.

Porwergirl should die. Someone should kill her.

The suit is skin tight, it clings so forcefully onto you as if it's trying to become part of you. But this other skin, just simply doesn’t fit right over your bones. 

There is a huge House of El crest over your chest, in its golden glory. It weighs down on your skin, heavy and sacred. It should help you feel at ease. It doesn’t. It feels like it’s burning your skin like a branding iron. 

Kryptonian? 

Yes. 

Super powers? 

Yes. 

You’re a superhero. Next, please!

Kara stands tall next to you, hand on your shoulder. “Would you look at that,” your sister smiles brightly at you. “Mother and father would be so proud of you, mini me.”

Kara has called you that your whole life, but you never felt so little as you do right now. You've also never felt so much like Kara. Crumpled up inside this supersuit to fit someone else’s dream. You don’t think your parents would be very proud of you now.

“Kara, this feels odd.” You try to lift the suit from your skin, that is so snuggled up it barely leaves you room to breathe. “I-I look like you.”

“I know!” She proudly squeaks. “I asked Winn to only change the colors. How do you feel about the white, red and blue?”

“Like a walking American flag.” You wince at the thought. You like the white, it’s a little more sober than the blue in Kara's suit, it also reminds you of the vest you used to wear back in Krypton. The red cape feels like they've ripped a piece of Kara’s and placed it on your back. The high blue boots are uncomfortable and the matching gloves are just plain stupid.

“You certainly don’t look like one.” Alex chimes in from behind you, and you turn around, sick of the sight of you in the mirror. “Honestly sis, I like this suit. I think it might be even better than Kara’s.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, mine has history.”

“Yours is a copy of Superman’s.”

“That’s what I mean, history.”

You watch your sister’s bickering with faint attention because they both would never say how ridiculous you look with this dull, hideous, comical outfit.

But it didn’t matter how foolish you looked, or how stupid you felt. There was no way out of this. Kara said you looked perfect and Alex agreed. J’onn, who’s been the closest thing to a father to you on this planet, gave you a stiff smile when asked what he thought. He could read your mind, remember? That’s what he thought about it. And Winn was just over the moon with his creation. No way out. From that day on, you’re Powergirl.

It hasn’t been long since you started being Powergirl. You’re still not the most prominent face of the Supers, thank God for that. You do the easy jobs while Kara takes on the real bad guys. You follow her lead. Obey to what Alex tells you to do over the comm that is permanently stuck in your ear. As if you couldn’t hear her from miles and miles away.

But with every passing day, it becomes even more obvious to you that you were really not cut out for this superhero life. Not good at it. Not happy with it. Not fit for it.

The very opposite of Kara, actually. Because Kara fits everywhere and with everyone. She fits perfectly in her suit, with her alias. Perfectly at her job at CatCo, as a news reporter. And ever since she landed on Earth she created her perfect family, story, life on this planet. 

You, on the other hand, wish everyday you were still at Krypton. You are well aware that if you stayed behind, that if your parents hadn't made Kara snuggle your smaller form against her own body on that pod, you would have exploded. You wouldn't be alive today. And you wish people knew you don't want to be dead, you just wish your planet hadn't exploded in the first place.

Sure Kara feels the same. Yet she makes a name for herself and gives back to this planet that took you both in so willingly, that gave you both powers because of its sun. Kara is just different.

"Mother would want us to use our powers for good." She would whisper to you in the dark, whenever the Danvers would tell you to not use your powers. Whenever they asked you to fit in completely. "Father spent so much time trying to stop our planet from deteriorating, don't you think that if he had powers he would use them to make that happen?"

She would ask you questions that didn't feel like questions. That required no answers at all. Kara would tell you what she knew about them, use them as arguments to explain to you (convince even) why you had to become a superhero too. 

And you would lay there in the dark, after your sister was asleep, looking at the long dead stars, and wondering whether she was right. Whether that was your parents' plans all along or just a sad coincidence.

"Powergirl." You hear Kara's voice early in the morning while you're still trying to brew yourself a cup of coffee. "I need you for a second."

"It's too early in the morning and I have to get ready for work." You press on your comm to answer. "Can't you deal with it alone?"

"Hm, no. I need you to come here now." 

You let out a huge sigh, trying to ease your own mind. Coffee will wait, you guess. You're out of your pj's, into your suit, and out of the house in a blur. You stop next to Kara while she stares at a billboard.

"What?" You can't help the harshness of your tone as you see no emergency around her.

Kara says nothing. Only points at the billboard and you finally take note of it. Written in large red colors, the sentence: Powergirl should die.

Huh.

"It seems that you have an enemy." Kara says when time enough has passed for you to read the sentence over a few times. "Don't worry, we'll catch them."

Cute. It's your first thought. It's almost like someone wrote you a love letter, au contraire. 

Kara makes an effort to tear it all down, destroy the billboard before anyone sees it. You don't help her, stuck inside your own mind, replaying the words in your head. 

"No need to worry." She assures you, hand on your shoulder to get you out of your trance. "No one will do you any harm, mini me. I'd never let anyone hurt you."

"Thanks, Kar." You look at your watch on your wrist. "Work calls." And so you fly home.

You try to lodge that sentence in the back of your mind. You don't wanna seem stressed out, even though you are. But showing how actually worried you are about it, and with the fact that someone is coming for you, it's inconceivable. 

Kara would worry. Alex would stress. Ooof, you can see it all playing out. Sleepovers and excuses for you to miss work and hang at the DEO headquarters so they can keep an eye on you, until you're feeling suffocated.

No, no. You can't go through that. It's been a while since you and your sisters shared a bedroom. You don't think you three can do that again now that you're grown ups. 

It happens again. You don't see it, but you hear the agents commenting about it, a couple days later. They get muted the second you fly in the DEO, which is not only annoying but foolish. You do have super hearing after all.

"So, where was it this time?" You ask Alex, while she tries to avoid looking at you. 

"Where's what?" She tries, and you furrow your brows.

"Winn, put it on the monitor." You ask coming closer. Winn looks at Alex as if asking for permission, but you don't give her time to deny him. "Come on, I heard the agents. I'm still Kryptonian even if I'm not a Super."

Winn huffs. "On the tallest building of National City." The photo goes up on the large TV in front of you, and you swallow deep.

Powergirl should die. 

"Y/N," Alex talks in a low tone so the agents around can't hear her. "it's not personal."

"Looks personal." You cross your arms, turning your back at the TV. "Someone wanting me dead sounds like it's as personal as it can get."

"Supergirl is looking into it, I promise we'll catch whoever did this."

"Alex, please." You pass her on your way to the training room. "You know damn well my favorite thing about you is that you don't lie."

"You've lost too many punching bags." You hear a voice behind your back, and you breathe deep before turning around.

"Just training a little." You look at the number of destroyed bags by your feet and decide that it's true, there's too many, even though that's what they're here for. 

"Alex told me about the message." Kara approaches you slowly, trying to test the territory. She can see your distress, but doesn't know the extent of it. And she won't, because you're definitely going to fake it.

"Yeah, tall building. They got the writing off quickly, though. So no major problems."

"Honey," Kara's voice is even sweeter now, if that's possible. "I'll catch them. I'll be patrolling tonight. No one's coming for you."

"I'm not worried." You smile at your lie, or half of lie for what it's worth. Knowing that Kara will be patrolling the city helps. You know your sister would never let anything bad happen to you. And it's very unlikely that anyone on this planet could easily defeat two Kryptonians.

Kara also smiles, and brings you into her arms for a hug. And you breathe out, calmer. Kara's arms have kept you safe from many perils. Spaceship lost in space, new planet, new school, new job. Surely she can keep you safe again.

You don't feel safe, though, when you wake up to a familiar voice far away. You rub the sleep from your eyes, well awake, paying close attention to a conversation you weren't invited to be a part of.

"Alex, I went around the city, there's no new wri-"

"Kara? What was that?"

There it was, in big red letters the sentence that has been haunting you for days. Powergirl should die. And under it new words' been added, someone should kill her.

"I found new writing." Kara's voice comes a second later. "It's worse this time."

"Take a picture so we can compare the handwriting and get back here."

"I have to clean this up." But before Kara even has the chance to, you're flying next to her in front of the L Corp building. "Y/N! What are you doing here?"

You move closer to the building to investigate. The ink is still wet, it wasn't done too long ago. You look around trying to find cameras. It's Lena's building, you're sure there are cameras everywhere. You spot one with a direct view.

"Mini me-" Kara tries.

"Go to work Supergirl, I'll deal with this. Someone wanting me dead is my problem." It's always been your problem, you are aware. But Kara promised you, you had nothing to worry about. Promised she would patrol the city. Promised she would protect you. And yet, here it is, in big block red letters.

"But-"

"I got it, Kara. Can you just believe in me?"

"Y/N, you know I do. I just wanna help."

"I don't need help." You clench your jaw, tired of being treated like a little girl. Like a mini Kara instead of your own person. "I'm Kryptonian too."

Cheap shot? Maybe. Definitely. You throw it, anyway. 

You clean the writing then fly home to suit up. You can't face Lena without it. Another secret that only makes you hate your secret identity as hard. Lying to your friends, sneaking out, it's all stressing and there's literally no reward high enough worth of all this.

"Lena."

"Oh shit." Lena's hand goes to her chest after her obvious scare. You can hear her heart almost beating out of her chest. "It's too early for bad news, Powergirl."

"Trust me, I agree with that." You breathe out, trying to give her a smile. It comes out flat. "I was wondering if I could look into one of your surveillance cameras. There was some writing on this building this morning, I would very much like to know who's responsible."

"Writing? I - I didn't see anything when I came in."

"Good. I cleaned it as fast as possible." You point at her computer and she breathes deep as if she is agreeing with you. 

It doesn't take long for the images to be up, and you two to be carefully reversing the filming until Lena sees you and Kara flying in front of it, and read the words herself. She looks up to you and quirks up an eyebrow, in question.

"Currently unsure if someone is threatening me or if this is just general knowledge being passed on." 

"People don't want you dead, you're a superhero!" Lena argues. "Maybe Lex, but he's currently serving his time."

"Clearly not everyone agrees with you." You point back at the words on her computer.

"It's awful." She admits, even though she doesn't fully trust you or Kara yet. "Wait, wait. There."

You can't see a thing. One minute is there, the other isn't. You slow down the images, trying to see any detail. Lena soon takes over and slows down as much as she can. That's when you see it, just a tiny flash of red. You hold your breath. Thankfully, Lena hasn't noticed it.

"How's this possible? There's no one." 

"Seems that I'll have to patrol the city myself tonight." You're almost leaving Lena's office when you turn around one more time. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Luthor."

"I was barely of any help at all." Lena points at the computer as proof and you give her a smile.

"Au contraire, darling. You showed me everything I needed to see." You wink at her, then fly out.

You march inside the DEO, positive on your plan. No one is talking you out of it, that's for sure.

Winn tries to argue that it is illogical for you to just give yourself to your enemy. He gets ignored. Alex argues that as a DEO agent she can't let you do this, and as your older sister she would be insane to leave you alone in this situation. You don't budge. Kara pulls out the big guns, her promise to mother and father, her duty as your protector, how you're the only connection she still has with Krypton, her love for you and so on. Her cries fall on deaf ears.

So at night, you fly around National City watching and studying everyone in it, even though you know you should only be looking for one person. One person with superspeed, a red cape and a big motive.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x reader #reader insert #baby danvers #alex danvers #alex x reader #powergirl #supergirl imagine

[bookworm551]

Of Duty and Desire | Chapter 6 | Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

A/N at the end of the chapter, but once again, thank you so much for all the love!! I constantly reread all of your comments, and I am always seriously overwhelmed by your support <3 also, shoutout to @eywas-heir for unknowingly predicting this chapter, your comments always make my day :)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, some steaminess but nothing explicit

Word count: 6.5k

Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5 Epilogue

What little sleep you got that night was plagued with nightmares of blood in the sand. You woke up, panicked, several times throughout the night, only to drift back into your uneasy sleep after a few seconds.

When you finally woke up all the way, you felt like the weight of the ocean was weighing on your chest. You stared up at the cover of the tent above you numbly. The anxiety you were feeling was paralyzing, and it didn't help that the viper ray sting had drained much of your strength and energy.

You didn't know how long you lay awake and unmoving, but there was soon movement outside that pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned your head to look at who was entering, and your stomach tightened uneasily when you realized who it was.

Neytiri entered under the cover of the pod holding a platter of food in one hand and a bowl of water in the other. Her face was drawn and grave as she looked down at you. She took a large breath before kneeling at your side and placing the platter on the ground.

"How do you feel?" She asked in a monotone voice as she drew a cloth from the bowl and began gently wiping away the dried salve over your sting from the previous night. You winced slightly at her touch before replying, "Well enough."

You studied her face for a moment. You hadn't expected her to be here, especially after everything that had happened the night before and everything that would be happening later in the day. In fact, you were surprised she could even stand to look at you, let alone help you when you were the reason that Neteyam may be exiled from the reef.

"Where is Ronal?" You asked quietly, breaking the heavy silence around you. Neytiri shook her head without taking her eyes off your sting. "She is not coming," she said flatly. You closed your eyes, fighting back against the wave of guilt that washed over you. You couldn't blame your mentor, she would be well within her rights to never speak to you again. Still, it hurt.

"You must eat," Neytiri told you, handing up the platter of food. "Thank you," you replied softly, "but I do not think I can eat." She paused for a second before placing it back down beside you.

She began reapplying more balm to your ribs. You stared up at her face, trying to read what she may be thinking, but it was impossible to tell. The silence that settled around you was tense and uncomfortable.

"I am sorry, Neytiri," you whispered finally. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

She continued tending to your sting without looking at you for a moment. Her stern silence heightened the guilt and anxiety you were feeling, but you opted to stay quiet instead of repeating your apology. After she finished, she wiped the balm off of her fingers and handed the platter to you.

"Eat," she told you sternly, "and listen."

You felt nervous as you sat up to take the platter from her hands and slowly began eating from it. She was now staring straight at you, a somber look on her face as she took a breath.

"Long ago, the Omatikaya had a tsakarem," she began solemnly. "She was arranged to be with a warrior who would take the role of Olo'eyktan from her father. They were very much in love, and they were very eager to lead the clan together." She paused for a moment, and you could see that the story had some emotional effect on her. She took a breath before continuing.

"Before they could be together, she was killed by the Sky People, and her younger sister was forced to take on her duties and was betrothed to the warrior in her stead. Her sister respected him, but she did not love him, and she resented her duties as tsakarem.

"One day, a stranger arrived at the forest to learn their ways. The sister was charged with teaching him, and in time, the two fell in love. They mated in secret, and when they were discovered, she renounced her future as the tsahik before everyone."

You blinked in surprise. You could only imagine the reaction of everyone to such a bold move. "What happened after?" you questioned softly, taking another small bite off the platter.

"The Sky People invaded their home," she explained, "and in order to prove his loyalty to the Omatikaya and his mate, he became Toruk Makto."

You looked up at her with wide eyes, realization dawning on your face. "Oh," was all you could think to say. She could see your understanding on your face, and the serious face she had been wearing gave way to a small smile before it fell away with a sigh. She reached a hand out to you and placed it on your arm.

Looking at your face with sincerity, she said, "I see you."

You were taken aback, and you stared up at her with your lips parted wordlessly. "I see your struggle," she continued, "and I know what it is that you feel. And though I am not happy with what is happening, I know my son. He has a strong heart like his father, and he will do anything to protect what he loves."

Neytiri's words reminded you of what Neteyam had told you the night before. I would do anything for you. Your throat tightened with emotions, and you whispered, "I thought you were furious."

Her gaze softened sympathetically. "My husband and I do not blame you," she said. "We were angry, yes, but we cannot blame you when you have done nothing wrong." You shook your head and averted your gaze. "I was wrong," you told her. "I am betrothed to someone else, and I have hidden everything from the people I care about."

You could still feel her eyes on you, and she squeezed your arm gently. You glanced back up at her face which was staring back at you in understanding. "As did I, long ago," she replied. "But love is not wrong. We cannot control it, but we must always defend it."

You remained silent as you contemplated what she said. It was true, you hadn't been able to control what you felt. If you could, all of this drama would have been avoided. Instead, you had fallen in love with Neteyam, and being with him was something that you longed to have without judgment or retribution.

You found that Neytiri's words had a comforting effect on you. You blinked up at her as you nodded slowly. "I could not control it," you admitted quietly. "But I do not want to lose it."

Neytiri nodded solemnly. She pulled her hand away from you, and, grabbing the bowl of water, she stood. "No matter what happens," she said, "it will not change how he feels. Nothing will."

She turned to walk out, but before she left, you called out in a soft voice, "Thank you." She turned just enough for you to see the side of her face, and a very small smile formed on her lips as she nodded once. "Lo'ak will come for you before the fight begins," she told you before she left you to ponder her words alone.

What Neytiri told you left you in a contemplative stupor. This whole time, you had been eaten alive with the guilt of everything that had happened, from dreading your position as tsakarem to kissing Neteyam in the cave. It all made you feel like you were an awful person, and it seemed like you were letting down everyone in your life.

But now, with Neytiri's words ringing through your head, you considered it from a different perspective. It was true that you hadn't been able to control what you felt. The two of you had gotten close on account of your shared experience with responsibility and obligation, and now, your obligation was the very thing keeping you apart.

Neteyam knew that it wasn't what you wanted. He knew that you had never wanted it. You remembered Tsireya's words about his condition: Neteyam said you should be able to choose. Staring out at the water beyond the entrance of the tent, you felt your guilt subside and your determination rise.

Neteyam loved you, and he was doing exactly what Neytiri had said—defending you. He was risking so much just for the chance to be with you. Why should you be bogged down with guilt for loving such a man?

With these thoughts in mind, you raised a hand to feel the necklace Aonung had made you. You would forever regret the anger and feelings of betrayal you had caused him, but you hoped that in time, he could come to forgive you. Maybe he could even choose someone he actually loves to take your place.

You reached under your hair and behind your neck. Blindly, you felt for the fastening on your necklace and began pulling at the knot until it came undone. You held the necklace in front of you for a moment before you set it aside and turned back to finish your food.

You watched patiently as the shadows outside grew shorter and shorter until Lo'ak appeared by the entrance. His face was solemn as he walked in, the severity of everything weighing down on him, but he offered you a faint smile when he saw you. "It's almost time," he said, gesturing with his head outside.

You nodded and slowly pulled yourself off the ground. Lo'ak watched you carefully and asked, "Are you good?" You nodded in determination, ignoring the dull pain in your side, and stepped out with him. Together, you made your way to the beach where a large crowd was already gathering.

News had spread quickly of the Rite of First Blood. It was all anyone could talk about the whole morning. Though nobody knew exactly the reason for Aonung challenging Neteyam, they knew the conditions, and they knew you were involved somehow.

When people started to notice your arrival, whispers immediately began to rise up around you. You felt their stares, and everyone seemed to part for you, giving you a direct path to the combat ring. Though you felt put off by their hushed tones and lingering eyes, you refused to appear that way. Instead, you stood up straighter and set your jaw. No more guilt, no more shame.

The crowd enclosed the ring where the rite was to take place and stood a few feet away from where it was outlined in thick rope. Standing together facing the sea, Tonowari and his family all stood together.

The Olo'eyktan looked grave, and he stood motionless as more and more of his clansmen drew in to watch the spectacle. Ronal stood beside him, watching the crowd carefully to try and spot you, but Tsireya found you first. You saw how her eyes glanced back and forth between you and Lo'ak as you moved through the crowd, and you noticed how her face looked torn between wanting to go to you and wanting to support her family.

Aonung stood in front of his parents with his head raised proudly, the tattoo across his brow bone causing his glare to seem even more menacing. He wore the traditional warrior's garment that covered the left side of his torso, and as always, his knife rested at his hip. His eyes must have caught Lo'ak's darker blue skin standing out amongst the rest of the Metkayina, and his gaze quickly moved to your face.

Despite yourself, your heart quickened at his glance. You slowed your walking as you looked back at him regretfully. Maybe you weren't wrong for loving Neteyam, but it still wasn't fair to Aonung that his life was affected by it. 'I am sorry,' you signed to him. His face didn't change, but he quickly glanced away from you and back to the crowd.

Catching up with Lo'ak, you came up behind Kiri and Tuk, who were already waiting anxiously at the edge of the ring. You saw your own nerves reflected in Kiri's face, and all you could do was offer an apologetic look and whisper, "Oh, Kiri."

She seemed to understand everything you wanted to tell you, and she replied gently, "It's okay," before she pulled you into a hug. When she moved back, she grabbed your hand tightly, whether to comfort you or herself, you weren't sure.

You soon became distracted by a swell of murmurs from the crowd to your left as people began shifting around. You and the three Sully children all turned attentively as you strained to see the cause of the disturbance.

Your heartbeat quickened at the appearance of Neteyam. He was an impressive sight. He stood tall and confidently as he walked through the crowd, whispers following after him from the Metkayina.

There wasn't a trace of the reef on his person. In his hair, he wore a beaded feather behind his ear just as he had when he first arrived. Around his torso was his warrior's cummerbund, and he had forearm guards adorning both arms. He wore an intricately beaded collar around his neck, and on his bicep, there was an armband that was woven in the traditional forest style. His face and upper body bore yellow and green war paint that highlighted his golden eyes. He was Omatikaya through and through.

Watching him walk composed and undaunted through the crowd, you were captivated by how good he looked. It struck you just how much he had changed since you first met. Compared to how he looked when he arrived at the reef, he stood taller in height and gained a considerable amount of muscle. His shoulders had broadened, and his hair had grown. The boyish charm his face once held had evolved into a noble, handsome appearance.

Behind him, his parents walked in stride with grave faces. Reaching the edge of the crowd, Neteyam paused, and they came up at either side of him. Neytiri placed a hand on his shoulder while Jake leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Neteyam nodded once and said something back to him quietly before both of his parents moved away and joined you and the rest of their children.

You were staring at Neteyam in hopes of catching his attention for a moment, but his eyes were focused on Aonung who stood silently on the opposite end of the ring, glaring at Neteyam. Stopping at the border of the ring, Neteyam nodded at Aonung and gestured a greeting to him: I see you.

His gesture seemed to irritate Aonung even more. He glared at Neteyam without moving or saying a word. The tension was palpable as silence settled over the anticipating crowd. Everyone waited for Tonowari to begin the match.

From the edge of the ring, he stepped forward and announced, "The conditions are set and agreed to." Turning to his son, he asked, "Aonung, do you wish to proceed with the Rite of First Blood?" Still holding his glare, Aonung responded, "Yes." The Olo'eyktan turned to Neteyam and repeated, "Neteyam, do you wish to proceed with the Rite of First Blood?" With a clear voice, he replied, "I do."

Both warriors stepped into the ring, holding each other's gazes wordlessly. Synchronously, they both reached for their own daggers and waited for the signal to begin the match. You took a shaky breath and tightened your grip on Kiri's hand as you braced yourself for the rite to begin.

Tonowari glanced between his son and Neteyam for a moment before announcing before everyone, "Let the Rite of First Blood begin."

Aonung stood in a wide stance traditionally adopted by Metkayina whereas Neteyam settled into a lower crouch, holding his knife in a reverse grip in front of his chest. They both took a careful step toward each other, and the two warriors waited a moment to study each other carefully.

You waited with bated breath for them to begin the fight. Watching them approach each other, you were reminded that Aonung had grown in the last couple of years, too. He had inherited his father's height and stood taller than Neteyam. Even without the tattoo above his eyes, his matured countenance commanded respect. So much had changed in the last two years, and now, so much could change in the next two minutes.

Back in the ring, Aonung made the first move. In a flash, he slashed at Neteyam, who quickly sidestepped his attack. Aonung slashed again, but he was blocked at the wrists by his opponent. He tried to swipe his knife down to cut Neteyam's arm, but he seemed to anticipate it and pulled back before the blade could touch him.

The fast movements caused your whole body to tense as you watched. The horrible reality settled over you of the irreversibility of the situation. There was no going back now, and Neteyam's fate as well as your own would be determined shortly.

The two warriors pulled away and began circling each other carefully. Your heart was pounding in fear as you waited for their next move. Everybody was watching attentively, the silence around you tense with eager anticipation. You felt Kiri's hand tighten anxiously around yours, and you knew she could feel it, too.

Aonung struck at him again, and Neteyam narrowly avoided his blade as he dodged to the right, causing your stomach to tighten for a moment. You could see that Neteyam kept his eyes fixed on his opponent's blade, and he was still for a moment as he watched for an opportunity to attack. Again, Aonung chased after Neteyam with his knife, and, coming in close, he swiped it across his chest.

You took in a sharp breath of fear.

The whole clan seemed to lean in to look at Neteyam. Aonung also paused to assess his opponent and see if he had drawn blood. Keeping his gaze set on the other warrior, Neteyam wiped a hand over his chest and held it up to show the lack of blood, demonstrating to everyone that Aonung's blade had not touched him.

You let out the breath you had sucked in. He was still in this, but that had been close. So far, Neteyam was only fighting defensively and had yet to make an attack of his own. He began circling around Aonung again, still in his lowered defensive crouch.

"What is he doing?" You whispered to yourself. Lo'ak must have heard you because he replied quietly, "He is waiting." You tore your eyes away from the fight for the first time to look up at him, and Lo'ak offered you a comforting look. "He's got this," he assured you.

In the ring, the two warriors circled each other carefully. You realized that even though Aonung was taller than Neteyam, he didn't match him in speed. Neteyam's build and stealth allowed him to dodge all of Aonung's attacks. It was a helpful advantage, but it wouldn't help him win if he didn't make any moves of his own.

Aonung seemed to be growing irritated by Neteyam's lack of offensive actions. "Are you a coward as well as a traitor?" He snarled at him. Neteyam didn't react, his face focused and alert as he continued stepping slowly around the ring. He knew there were more important things at hand than answering taunts, especially when so much was on the line.

Aonung didn't like the silence, and he charged forward again more rushed and angry than before. This time, instead of dodging to the side, Neteyam stood his ground. He grabbed Aonung's arm below the wrist with his free hand and used his rival's own momentum to pull him forward. Aonung stumbled, not expecting Neteyam's move.

Neteyam took advantage of Aonung's loss of balance, and with dizzying speed, he turned sharply, planted his leg on the ground, and pulled Aonung's body over his shoulder. The force of Neteyam's move caused Aonung to topple over him, making him fall hard on his back. Still holding his opponent's knife arm, Neteyam spun around and pressed his knee down on Aonung's chest. As he pinned his rival's knife hand to the sand, Neteyam raised his own dagger up and swiftly plunged it at Aonung's head.

Everybody gasped in horror.

Your heart stopped, and your blood ran cold. You hadn't thought Neteyam was fighting to kill, and that certainly wasn't what you wanted. You watched in shock as Neteyam sat up, leaving his dagger standing upright where he had planted it. With a heavy sigh, he slowly stood up off of Aonung's body.

To your utter relief, you and the rest of the clan saw that Neteyam hadn't killed Aonung. It looked like he had stabbed him in the head, but the reality was that he had plunged his dagger into the sand to the left of Aonung. The blade remained upright next to his head, barely resting against his ear.

Aonung remained in the sand for a moment. His chest was heaving, but besides that, he was completely still. Then, he carefully sat up and raised his hand slowly to his left ear. When he pulled it away, his fingertips were coated in red.

The whole clan realized at the same time as you what it was, and in the crowd, hushed murmurs of shock rippled around them.

Neteyam had won.

Like a tidal wave, relief crashed over you, causing your knees to go weak. You leaned against Kiri, who was squeezing your hand in her own relief. On her other side, Tuk turned around to face you with a large gasp of realization. Lo'ak, despite his words of confidence just before, seemed to breathe for the first time, and you could see that his earlier confidence had been a mask to hide his fear. From beside you, Neytiri gasped quietly, "Thank you, Great Mother." Jake released a breath that seemed like he had been holding the whole time.

You watched as Neteyam turned to face Tonowari and Ronal expectantly. The two clan leaders did not look pleased, but there was nothing they could do. Neteyam had bested their son, and his victory was binding.

"First blood has been drawn," Tonowari announced in a grave voice. "Neteyam, your conditions stand."

Murmurs of shock spread through the crowd. Neteyam nodded at him before turning to look at you for the first time. His face shifted from the hardened stare of a determined warrior to the gentle gaze of someone who loved you so much. Now that the stress and fear of losing him no longer weighed on you, you were overwhelmed by the relief, hope, and love that flooded you.

You stepped out of the crowd and felt all eyes turn on you, but you didn't care. You kept your focus trained on Neteyam as you walked towards him, feeling as though you were floating. He stared at you as you approached and quietly held out his hands when you drew near. You took them without saying a word, still looking up at his eyes in reverence.

"Whatever you want," he said in a low voice. "It's yours." You squeezed his hands gently, a slow smile growing on your face. "I only want you," you replied quietly. He gave you a soft smile, and, dropping one of your hands, he raised his own to hold your face, and you leaned into his touch. "I am yours," he whispered in response.

You gazed up at him, and for a moment, it felt like only the two of you existed in the world. The murmurs of the crowd became mute as you studied his face in a daze, and the only sound you could hear was your own heartbeat. His eyes wandered over your face like he was trying to memorize your every feature. After a perfect, peaceful moment, his eyes moved away from yours to look behind you. You knew who he was looking at, and, letting go of Neteyam's hand, you took a breath before turning around.

To say that Ronal looked displeased would be an understatement. On her face, you could see the mix of anger, hurt, and utter disappointment she felt toward you. Everything you had been afraid of causing was staring you right in the face. It still left a bitter taste in your mouth, but there was nothing she could do or say to sway you from your decision, and your resolution gave you the courage to face her unblinkingly.

"You have been nothing but good to me," you began solemnly, looking back and forth between Ronal and Tonowari. "You are wise, and I have learned much from you these past years." You paused to take a breath and looked Ronal right in her face.

"But I never wanted it," you told her. "All this time, you have guided me down a path I never wanted to follow. I was afraid to resist, afraid to disappoint you." You glanced back at Neteyam and took his hand again. "But I am not afraid anymore. I know you are angry. I hope that one day, you can forgive me, but I have made my decision."

Ronal still had a glare on her face, but Tonowari's had softened somewhat in sympathy. He turned to his mate and gave her a look. You had been around them long enough to understand that he was trying to convey that there was nothing they could do about it. Ronal shot a look back at him, one that said she was still very much upset, but you knew that she wouldn't try to fight.

Tonowari finally nodded at you. "You may go now," he told you in a low voice. You nodded back at him before glancing at Aonung. He was standing now, the humiliation of his defeat was mixed with the look of anger he had on his face. You hesitated as you gave him an apologetic look. "I am sorry," you repeated what you had signed to him earlier. "And I hope that you can forgive me one day, too." He didn't reply, and after a brief second, he averted his gaze. With a sigh, you turned away from him.

Together, you and Neteyam walked over to where his family was waiting for him. Neytiri was the first to pull him into a tight embrace, whispering her thanks to Eywa. When she pulled away, his siblings crowded around him in a group hug, the relief of their brother's victory evident on their faces.

You stood back a bit and watched their reunion. Jake noticed you standing alone and beckoned you over with his hand. "Come here," he said gently. You hesitated a moment before making your way to the Sullys carefully. They were smiling softly as you stepped towards them slowly. "You're with us now," Jake told you. Neteyam reached for your hand again and laced his fingers with yours. "Sullys stick together," he said softly.

You couldn't help but smile up at him. For so long now, you had been plagued with guilt and anxiety for wanting to leave everything behind to be with Neteyam, but now, all of those feelings had been replaced with relief and happiness. For the first time, you finally had something that you wanted, and he was quite literally in your hands. There was no more fear, no more uncertainty. You saw your future in Neteyam's loving eyes, and instead of feeling apprehensive, you were eager for what lay ahead.

Neteyam must have seen the thoughts on your face as you looked up at him because he smiled brightly at you. He pulled you into a hug, strong and warm, and the only thing you thought about as you wrapped your arms around him was how much you loved him.

Together, you and the Sully family headed back to their pod. Lo'ak was excitedly replaying the fight out loud as though none of you were there to witness it. While you were still holding Neteyam's hand, Tuk held his other one, refusing to leave his side. Neteyam's victory made everyone almost giddy with relief, and smiling came much easier for you all.

Occasionally, you glanced up at Neteyam, and he would glance back with a knowing smile. Though you enjoyed sitting with his family, right now, you just wanted to be alone with him, and you could tell by looking at his face that he wanted the same. Still, you waited quietly while you sat with the Sullys in their home as they enjoyed the taste of peace for the first time all day.

Perhaps it was these glances that Neytiri had seen and understood because eventually, she stood and told her children, "Come. Let your brother clean up and rest." The rest of the family stood up reluctantly and headed out of the pod. You looked back at Neteyam to ensure that he didn't want you to go, and he gripped your hand tighter with a faint smile, silently urging you to stay.

Once the rest of his family had cleared out, neither of you could help but breathe out a laugh together. With a happy sigh, you leaned your head against his shoulder. He rested his head against yours and said softly, "I told you it would be alright."

You hummed in response and closed your eyes. "It still doesn't feel real," you replied with another sigh. You felt him turn to look at you, so you lifted your head to gaze up at his face. A tender smile pulled at his lips as he let go of your hand and ran his own across your back, and he told you gently, "This is real."

His words made your heart flutter in your chest. Without saying anything in reply, you leaned in and kissed him softly. Your hand came up to hold his face as his arm pulled you toward him. His kiss was gentle and loving, and it expressed all the relief you felt inside.

You broke apart after a moment. You looked into his eyes lovingly for a second before studying the paint that was marked across his face. He seemed to realize what you were looking at and smiled at you. "I guess I don't need it anymore," he mused, referring to the paint. You smiled back at him. "I guess not," you replied.

With a grunt, Neteyam pushed himself up off the ground. You couldn't help but chuckle at how he slowly stood with a heavy sigh and walked to the other side of the tent. "Is the mighty warrior not able to stand?" You teased. He shot you a playful glare over his shoulder. "Aonung is heavier than he looks," he retorted. You hummed in amusement as you watched him pour water from a vase into a small bowl.

You admired the muscles in his back as he faced away from you, and you were sure he had no trouble whatsoever with the weight of his opponent. In your mind, you replayed the memory of how Neteyam had thrown Aonung over his shoulder with such blinding speed, and your smile slowly melted away as you remembered the fear you had felt when you thought he had stabbed him.

"For a moment, I thought you killed him," you told him quietly. He didn't say anything as he dipped a reef sponge in the bowl and wrung the excess water out of it. "I could have," he admitted finally, his back still turned to you. "But he was my friend, and I will never wish any harm on him." With a sigh, he turned to face you as he started wiping away the paint from his arms. "Still," he continued seriously, looking down at your sitting form, "I wanted him to know that I was not playing a game with him. Not when it came to you."

He held your gaze for a beat before his eyes moved back to his arm as he continued washing away the war paint. Your chest tightened at his word. His devotion to you stole the very breath from your lungs, and he didn't even seem to notice how his words affected you.

You watched him without replying for a moment as an idea formed in your head. You pushed yourself off of the floor and crossed over to where Neteyam stood. You gazed up at his face, and, wordlessly, you took the sponge from his hand. He looked at you in mild surprise but didn't protest. He still held the bowl in his hand as you dipped the sponge in and squeezed the water out of it. Placing your free hand on top of his shoulder, you gently began wiping away the paint off of his chest.

You noticed how his breath hitched under your touch, and you glanced up at him for a moment. He was blinking down at your face, and you noticed that he swallowed hard.

You had to fight the smile that was pulling at your lips. He was nervous. Neteyam, the mighty warrior, son of Toruk Makto, was flustered by the feeling of your fingertips against his skin. You could still sense his eyes on your face as you looked back down at the smeared paint on his chest, still trying to suppress your smirk.

You took your sweet time with him. You moved the sponge slowly across his skin, careful not to let any excess water run down his torso. His face was inches from yours, and though he still held the bowl of water for you, he remained perfectly still. As you worked, you admired the strength of his body beneath your hands and marveled at the fact that you could make such a fierce warrior melt with such simple touches.

You worked your way across his chest to his shoulder. Neteyam turned his head subtly to watch you as you moved your hands across his body. With your free hand, you held him by his elbow and washed away the paint on his arm and shoulder. Your free hand wandered from his elbow back up to his shoulder again, and eventually, you moved behind him to wipe away the paint on his broad back.

Neither of you said a word the whole time. The only sounds that broke the silence around you were the dripping water and Neteyam's own quickened breathing. Under your hands, his muscles tensed, and you could tell that your light touches were making him restless.

Your free hand slid across his back as you moved around to his other arm, and in your peripheral vision, you could see Neteyam turning his head to look at you again. Though you were tempted, you stayed focused on your task and refused to look up at him.

You cleared away the rest of the paint on his arm before standing in front of him again. You had your free hand resting on his chest as you began cleaning away the paint on his neck, and you could feel his heart racing under your palm. You had to bring your hand up to his neck to move the beaded collar he wore out of the way, and he took an unsteady breath and closed his eyes at your touch.

A memory tugged at your mind from long ago when your fingers traced over his neck once before. 'Sensitive' was the word he had used to describe the feeling when you had tended to him after his fight with Aonung years ago. So much had happened since then, yet he still seemed to react the same way to your fingers brushing against his throat.

For the first time, Neteyam broke from his paralysis to bring his free hand to your torso. It was your turn to feel nervous now, and your breathing quickened as his hand wandered around your waist and up your back with tantalizing slowness.

As you wiped away the last of the paint from his neck, you finally looked up at his face, the last part of him still bearing the green and yellow colors. His half-lidded eyes bore down on you with all the desire in the world, causing your heart to race. Your hands paused to rest on his shoulders for a moment as you both stared at each other in the charged silence.

Eventually, you tugged gently on his shoulders, and he understood your silent request. Slowly, obediently, he lowered himself down to kneel before you, the hand on your back trailing down the side of your hip and sliding down the length of your thigh. His touch sent chills running up your spine. You still kept your hands on his shoulders as he stared up at you reverently, and you took a moment just to admire how good he looked from that position.

Eventually, you knelt down in front of him, dipping the sponge in the bowl Neteyam placed on the floor beside you. You carefully began wiping away the paint from his face, and he closed his eyes again as you moved over his forehead and across his cheeks.

While his eyes remained closed, you studied his face unabashedly. You admired his serene countenance, his lips turned upwards ever so slightly in contentment, and you tried memorizing the pattern of stars that speckled across his face. You almost didn't want to finish washing away the paint just so you could keep looking at him like this.

When the last of the green and yellow disappeared from his skin, you placed the sponge back in the bowl. His eyes were still closed as you gave his glistening face one final look before you moved forward, taking his head gently in both hands, and kissed him.

Neteyam welcomed your mouth readily, and his hands slid around your waist, pulling you close. You let go of his face and wrapped your arms around his neck. It was like a dream that you couldn't believe had come to life. As his tongue teased the edge of your lips, every concern and remnant of anxiety slipped out of your mind.

You pulled apart just enough for the both of you to take a breath. "I love you," he whispered, his lips barely touching yours as he spoke. You opened your eyes to look at him, and he did the same. A slow smile pulled at your lips, and with all the sincerity you possessed, you replied, "I love you."

You kissed him again, without guilt and without remorse. There was no more room in your heart for them, not when Neteyam was with you. You felt safe in his arms, and you never wanted to part from his warmth. Now, for the first time in your life, you had your heart's desire—love.

You knew that people would talk. You knew they would treat you differently now that you had abdicated your role. You knew that Ronal and Aonung were angry, but none of it mattered to you anymore. All that mattered was that now, you and Neteyam could be together for the rest of your lives.

And that's exactly what you intended to do.

Epilogue

______

Well, that’s the end of the story, BUT! I will be posting an epilogue shortly. I don’t think I’ll make it explicit, but it’ll be a lil spicy nonetheless ;) I want to thank everyone who liked, reblogged, and commented under each chapter, and especially to those who messaged me directly 🫶 also, pls forgive me if the fight scene was unsatisfying, I have never tried writing knife combat before so I gave it my best shot lol

Taglist: @mashiromochi @eywas-heir @kafanizdakicokiyi @plzfeedmebread @afro-hispwriter @fanboyluvr @anm3mi @sadexact @peachinsomniac @fluroescentxadolescent @doulcha @crazy4books1 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @alicetweven @sarasapen @sadexact @nanapuddingisasimpformrballs @strawberryclouds22 @youcantseem3 @shayligames-blog @latelyislept @aonungsmate

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #neteyam fic #avatar fanfiction #kiri sully #loak sully #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam fluff #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #friends to lovers #forbidden romance #slow burn #I love y’all sm

[graysweatsgrayhoodie]

idk why, but I really like the idea of George being in a sweet loving relationship with someone who’s ready to throw hands with Fred at any given moment.

Her and George making heart eyes at each other from across the classroom while both she and Fred are plotting each others demise.

George is laying in bed, kicking his feet, re-reading old letters from her while Fred is laying in his own bed planning his next prank to dye her hair vomit-green.

George doesn’t wanna take sides and ends up getting caught in the cross fire quite a bit.

Fred tried to prank her by hexing her books to weigh as if they were made of solid rock, but George was the one who usually carried her books for her anyways. She tried to convince him to let her carry at least some of them this time so he wouldn’t strain himself, but he insisted he was fine (the sweat on his brow and crease on his forehead said otherwise, but she knew better than to argue). He still laughed along with Fred about the prank, telling him it was a good one and that they should use it again on someone else, more so that he could laugh along again, this time without his arms being sore for the days following.

She tried to get Fred back by casting an allusion spell on his dinner, making him think that his plate of pasta had turned into dozens of little snakes covered in sauce. She had gotten the reaction she was hoping for as he yelped loudly and jumped up from his seat, tossing his plate in the air. Unfortunately, what she hadn’t planned was that the plate had landed upside down directly on top of George’s head, pasta and noodles sliding down his face.

Again, he laughed along, enjoying Fred’s freaked out reaction, even if it meant he had to take a shower before their date night that night.

These pranks weren’t for competition for George’s attention, everyone knew this. It was just because her and Fred just didn’t get along, plain and simple.

George always said that these pranks weren’t because they hated each other, but because, deep down, they cared for each other, and never wanted to see each other in any actual harm.

They both told him he was mad.

When she graduated from Hogwarts, George had offered her a job and Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, knowing full well that Fred would never agree to this. It took a lot of convincing and begging from George as he showed Fred that she had the organizational skills the twins so clearly lacked. He was only fully convinced after a few days of her working there when the back room, which was nearly impossible to sort through on a good day, had been organized so nicely, a two-year-old could find the product they were in search of (she had to make sure Fred could sort through it, of course). Besides, with her working there, he could send plenty of kids her way, telling them to test the products out on her hoping to give her plenty of boils and large purple tongues. Of course she did the same (and it went in her favor more often, the kids didn’t seem too inclined to prank such a pretty lady, much to Fred’s frustration and George’s agreement).

They both silently agreed to put a hold on their shenanigans when George lost his ear, both doing their part to take care of him and try not to stress him out too much.

That lasted a week.

Fred had superglued all of her shoes to the floor, making very difficult for her to get to work that morning. She of course retaliated by jinxing all of his ties so that no matter how you tied them, the front strand was always noticeably shorter than the back strand.

At least George had a nice relaxing week, though it only took his ear being blown off.

When the war had reached its peak and the battle of Hogwarts began, all three had shown up to fight against the Dark Lord and his minions. She was fighting alongside Fred when she heard the beginnings of the wall behind them crumbling which meant it was about to fall, and right on top of them. Fred hadn’t noticed as he was making a comment to Percy, so she ran quickly over to Fred and tackled him to the ground, mostly out of the way. A few rocks and bricks had landed on top of them, her taking the brunt of it as she lay on top of his body, arms over both their heads. The damage from the fallen wall had rendered her unable to walk, and so Fred had scooped her up and taken her somewhere safer, hurling curses and hexes at anyone who tried anything funny.

After the battle, George expressed how grateful he was to both of them for saving each others lives, and for proving his point that they do actually care about each other. “Oh please,” they had both said. “‘Saving their life.’ Whatever, they would have been fine with out me.”

They would not have been.

“Besides,” they both continued, “I only did that because if they did die, then George would be all mopey and sad about having to live the rest of his life without them.”

But for them, that day was a confirmation to both of them that neither of them hated each other as much as they let on, and that maybe George was right.

But they could never admit that. Because then they would have to tell George he was right. And he would never let that go.

#george weasley x reader #fred weasly x reader #fanfic #george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins #harry potter #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #harry potter imagine

[graceandtheidiotsquad]

Dumb Character Headcanons: Champion Cynthia

I am having brainrot over the queen of sinnoh ok. I love her and her crazy family so much-! I apologize for how random some of these are-some of them I got inspiration from popular ones from, some from AUs i've seen and some I just made up on the fly-Ok, enough rambling-on with the show!

- TOTAL. MOMMA. BEAR. She just-has very motherly, protective vibes and despite being one of the most generally considered TERRIFYING CHARACTERS IN THE SERIES (and I'm mildly scared of her too!) she'd probably take you out for ice cream after battling her to celebrate a job well done, win or lose.

- Speaking of ice cream, I think this is not only a popular hc i agree with but they made it CANON In the anime that she cannot, for the life of her, decide what flavor she wants and will just stand there for 15 minutes weighing all the pros and cons and unintentionally holding up the line. I mean she'll move when she realizes and apologize PROFUSELY but still- ...But would YOU tell her to hurry up and choose?? No, I don't think so.

- Her hair is usually either down most of the time or tied up in a bun. But only for when she needs it-she doesn't care how messy it gets, she just likes being wild I suppose. Sometimes you'll find her literally wrestling one of her pokemon for fun (usually Garchomp) and her hair will be full of leaves and sticks, and not a care in the world! One of her family taught her how to tie her hair back in a bun, and though she adores them-she was quite the pain to get to stand still long enough to even TRY as a child.

- You wouldn't think it, with how classy she is-...buuuuuut she was almost a leash kid. You think she gets this intimidation factor just from being so classy and dramatic alone? No, she can be fucking FERAL when she wants to be. Sometimes the Sinnoh League will have trouble finding her to get her to report to her champion duties as she's gotten distracted and wandered off to explore some ruins somewhere in the region and never told anyone where she was going. 

- She used to and still can climb trees in seconds if left unattended. This has lead to many a heart-attack for her grandmother, watching her little baby Cynthia nearly DIE falling out of said tree, only to be completely unharmed and even LAUGHING at the experience. 

- Actually is a REALLY big fan of the wrestling/battle royale circuit. She can and will burst out singing some of the intros at the top of her lungs, much to the shock of ANYONE in the room with her. 

- She also happy dances and likes to put on music when she works. She loves piano but even she can't resist a good earworm, humming along to it as she runs around the local library or (reluctantly) winds up cooped up inside doing or cleaning up paperwork. This is implied to be canon in a spinoff game (Pokemon Masters EX if you're curious) and I totally agree that she just-cannot be bothered to clean up her office and it's almost CONSTANTLY a mess because she keeps getting distracted by new things to look at or something she hadn't seen in ages (BECAUSE of the mess) like a book and just winds up reading it all day. It's a vicious cycle!

- The reason she loves piano so much is she actually knows how to play, and is VERY Good at it! A very dear member of her family taught her when she was very young and she plays to help remember him-wherever the hell he's wandered off to now. Music connects us just as much as pokemon do, in her mind-so whenever she plays, he's right beside her again-whether physically or not. 

- She has inherited the family 'way too fucking tall' gene and that does NOT help her intimidating appearance sometimes.

- Sometimes casually speaks fluent Latin/Greek just to confuse the shit outta people. Look, she isn't usually spiteful-but even the most graceful and kind people have their limits. The same person who taught her piano taught her it-probably for that express purpose. Also several swear words. (thankfully if she ever swears, it's in said language so hardly anyone will know-)

- She grew up feeling-quite isolated from others her age because of her intense focus on studying history and battling competitively. Mostly the history thing-the battling thing probably didn't help as most kids were likely TERRIFIED of how intense she got. But-...i think that's why she loved that member of her family so much. Finally, someone who understood her...! He'd even given her the egg that would hatch into her Garchomp. (It was SUPPOSED to be a togepi, that wouldn't cause much hassle aside from the occasional accident with metronome-...but NOOOOOO, he decided to let her cause havoc. Her grandma nearly smacked him.)

- Honestly if you told her you were a demon or some supernatural shit she'd probably be more fascinated and barrage you with questions than scared. Or kick ass if you were hostile-DO. NOT. FUCK. WITH THE CHAMPION OF SINNOH.

- She may or may not be guilty of spoiling hers and other people's Pokémon with treats. She can't help it! She has a WEAKNESS for puppy dog eyes, whether it be her own Pokémon, any she's babysitting (she feels like someone who would do that if asked) Or young trainers she's taken a shine to. 

- Wound up with a heavy ass, GIGANTIC hand-me-down backpack from who-knows how many generations ago and yes, she CAN lug it around with ease. She doesn't much for her league job, but it's her go-to when it comes to adventuring or exploring.  - Speaking of the backpack-she often carries her spiritomb outside of its pokeball inside while in particularly rough areas, usually hiding inside its keystone. You never know if you'll need a pokemon for backup and don't have time to reach for one of your pokeball before things get dicey, after all-and the sight of a very angry ghost and dark type pokemon erupting from an ancient backpack is more than enough to send anyone who would likely cause trouble PACKING-looking almost as if something is being summoned right behind her! (She doesn't know why she looks so terrifying that way, but at least it means no one will cause too much trouble)

- An absolute GIRLBOSS for sure-but also very, very soft when it comes to people she loves. She'll gush and gush about her family members-especially younger ones, or trainers she's mentally adopted (and she does this a lot.) as her own 'pack', so to speak. She'll try to tone it down if it makes them uncomfortable but it's so HARD-she feels so blessed to have people who love her for who she is, as strange and beautiful and intimidating and just a little bit odd as she can be that she just HAS to spread word about how amazing they are! (She's like one of those moms who shows off photos of her kids all the time, just not in an annoying way if that makes sense?? At least she tries not to be-but once she starts rambling about them or ANYTHING it is almost impossible to get her to stop!)

- Often makes hand gestures like pointing when she speaks, especially when she gets excited. She often doesn't realize she's doing it half the time-but she always does it when taking pictures. She just-feels like her hands HAVE to be doing something!

- I will not give away the massive spoiler this ties into but she OWNS the song Blood Right by Madame Macabre. JUST-IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FOR LEGENDS ARCEUS, JUST-BE PREPARED YOU'RE IN FOR A RIDE!

#pokemon #pokemon cynthia #dppt #diamond pearl platinum #pokemon dppt #pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus spoilers #kinda??? #i mean it's in the thumbnail of the playlist so I hope that's ok #champion cynthia #sinnoh #pokemon diamond and pearl #pokemon platinum #pokemon brilliant diamond #pokemon shining pearl #pokemon gen 4 #Spotify