#for me I was 9 by the time I recognized that I couldn’t stop

[cupid-styles]

daisy 2 (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)

she's alive and I hope you like it 🩷 I think there will be a short epilogue wrapping everything up after this :)

part one

word count: 7.9k

content warnings: a bit of angst (nothing too crazy), smut (f receiving oral, penetration, size kink/belly bulge, dirty talk, a tiny bit of cum play), and — as stated in the first part — massive, big fat warning for an inappropriate power imbalance.

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Y/N had tried to talk herself out of it. Several times, actually. For hours. 

But at a certain point, she realized all she was doing was driving herself insane with a nonstop, hamster wheel of thinking. She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Professor Styles — or Harry, rather, as he’d said earlier — over and over, nitpicking at every tiny detail. She wished she had someone to go to — an unbiased, neutral third party who wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, but she doubted that even if she did have that, they’d think her analysis of their discussion would be appropriate.

Because she had a huge, obvious, stupid crush on her professor. 

Well, he wasn’t technically her professor. She was just the professor she was… assisting, and that technicality is the only thing that gave her enough courage to bundle up beneath layers of thermal wear and her forest green puffer jacket, hiking through the chilly winter evening to see if, by some miracle, Harry was still in his office. 

On the way there, she spoke to herself sternly. She needed to have a goal in mind — an intention, really, of what exactly she was going there for. It wasn’t a normal thing to go see a professor in his office on a Monday at 6:40 pm.

It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.

It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.

And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.

The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name. 

“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."

She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery. 

She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.

“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.

“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”

She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in. 

“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”

“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”

His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.

“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”

They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence. 

But she can’t help herself. 

“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”

Harry’s nostrils flare. 

“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”

He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with. 

But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?

“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”

“I’m not—”

“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”

He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way. 

“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out. 

A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to. 

“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”

Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips. 

But instead, he stops. 

A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes. 

“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”

I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains. 

“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”

He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.

“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”

. . .

Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated. 

In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing. 

She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead. 

When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile. 

A smile.

“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body. 

“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag. 

That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.

As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed. 

And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.

“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”

Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals. 

“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.

When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”

As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.

“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”

Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox. 

“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”

Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.

. . . 

“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft. 

Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down. 

“We are,” he says softly. 

“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed. 

“What do you mean?”

Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater. 

“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”

Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.

“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”

She pauses for a beat. And then, “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it. 

And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.

“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”

She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”

“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.

The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?” 

His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time. 

“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”

She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers. 

. . .

Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx. 

Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.

And there’s still three months left of the semester.

Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.

But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.

It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:

can’t stop thinking about your lips

oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??

It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.

Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.

Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess. 

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him. 

“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”

She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.” 

“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”

They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be? 

Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles. 

“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male. 

He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”

“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.” 

He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather. 

It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket. 

“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”

“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”

“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”

Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods. 

“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”

“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.” 

With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared? 

Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?” 

“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”

His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation. 

“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“You live alone?”

She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.

“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”

“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”

Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”

Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime. 

“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”

“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”

His throat bobs. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”

He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”

He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment. 

“Well now I have to know.”

“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”

“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”

Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”

“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”

“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”

“Strawberry, actually.”

He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”

Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”

“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”

She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”

“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road. 

“I’m right over there.” 

Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him. 

“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly. 

“Of course.”

They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car. 

“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”

He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?

But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.

“Can I come inside, then?”

. . .

Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be. 

She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.

“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming. 

“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”

Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”

“Tea is good, sweetheart.”

The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.

“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.

He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”

“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”

“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”

She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.

“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.” 

Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile. 

“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”

He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”

She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”

“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”

“What do you mean?”

He sends her a knowing look and she grins. 

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”

He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”

“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”

“I know, but—”

“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”

He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway. 

“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”

“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust. 

This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games. 

“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”

He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze. 

“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”

“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”

She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up. 

But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy. 

When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.

And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.

“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane. 

“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her. 

He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest. 

“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.” 

He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips. 

“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.

“Doubt it,” he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising. 

“Harry— oh my god—”

“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”

If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above. 

“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly. 

“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”

That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression. 

“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips. 

“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”

Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?” 

“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck. 

She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?” 

“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.” 

“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”

“That’s perfectly okay.” 

Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length. 

“You look big.” She admits. 

He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip. 

“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?” 

This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.” 

“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” 

Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”

“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.” 

“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.” 

She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it. 

“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.” 

“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”

She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze. 

“Do you really think it’ll fit?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“

“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts. 

Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter. 

“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“ 

“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”

“Too much?”

She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”

“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down. 

With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her. 

“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”

She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes. 

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic. 

She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach. 

He thinks he may pass out. 

Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock. 

“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her. 

“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?” 

“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully. 

He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them. 

“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.” 

That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent. 

When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her. 

“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.

Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”

“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”

“Please.”

His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair. 

They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. 

And then: “So you envisioned this?”

She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”

Harry has no problem admitting that she’s right.

#writing #english profrry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one direction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles fic rec #harry styles rec #one direction

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Kiss me before you leave.

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n and Bucky's relationship during the years of the war.

Warning: crying/ mention of POW camp/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 2k

1940, Manitowoc, Wisconsin

He was leaving, he was actually going on the boat and leaving to fight the war. She couldn’t believe it, and he just gave her a letter. She read it again, in case she missed something.

My dear Y/n,

I’m leaving for England today at 9:30 at the docks, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you in person, but I’m so scared of hurting you. I want to fight for my country. When I come back, we’ll get married because you’re the love of my life. If you still want me, of course, I’ll send you a letter when I’m assigned to a base, so you can write to me. I’ll think about you every second, I’ll think about you in ways that can’t be written. I love you so much, my darling.

Forever yours, Bucky.

She looked at the time, it was 9:05, she could make it in time. Without even thinking, she took her brother’s bike and rode it down the street, she was pedaling so fast, but she didn’t care if she crashed, she wanted to see him one last time before his departure. She didn’t want to cry, but if she missed him, she was going to. She felt a lot of emotions, sadness, anger and love. She was sad that he was leaving, angry at the way he left and in love because he promised to marry her when he got back. Her hair flew in the wind, her skirt too, she couldn’t care less, she wanted to see him.

He felt bad for the way he left her, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her in person. He was looking at the window when he saw someone riding a bike, really fast. Then he recognized his girlfriend. He let out a small laugh before sticking his head out the window. ‘’Y/n!’’ he yelled her name, she searched for a second the person that called her name, then she saw him. She ran in front of the window, but he was too high for her to reach him. ‘’Seriously Bucky! That’s how I learn you’re leaving? You could’ve at least kissed me before you left!’’ she screamed, in anger, but she was painting from the bike ride she just had. ‘’Sorry honey, I can’t hear you!’’ he was smirking, he heard her, he just didn’t want to argue with her.

Soldiers that were still boarding saw the scene. ‘’S’cuse me miss, if you want, we can help ya get up’’ one of them said to Y/n. ‘’Please’’ she begged. Next thing she knew, she was being lifted by a group of soldiers, she didn’t care if they looked under her skirt, she could reach her boyfriend. When she was equal to him, she pulled him by the tie, an inch to her lips. ‘’You’re really lucky that I’m in love with you John Egan’’ she smiled before kissing him. He instantly kissed her back, adding more passion to it. Soldiers beneath them were cheering for the couple. They pulled back to catch their breath. ‘’I love you too, doll’’ he smirked. They kissed for what felt like an eternity, but they were stopped by the boat horn.

‘’Be safe, I want my future husband in one piece!’’ she said as the soldiers brought her back to the ground. ‘’I promise, I love you so much!’’ he blew a kiss to her. She looked at the group of soldiers that helped her. ‘’Thank you so much, be careful’’ she thanked them. She smiled at Bucky as she watched the boat leave the dock. He was waving to her, she was crying from sadness, but smiling and laughing at the same time. Other wives and girlfriend were on the dock, crying too. ‘’Write to me!’’ she yelled. She only saw him make a thumbs up. She stayed on the dock until the boat was out of sight, she kept crying until tears didn’t fall down. She couldn’t wait to write to him.

1942, Thorpe Abbotts, England

Bucky smiled as he saw the envelope with his name on it, it was from his girl. He sat down on his bed before opening it. Inside there was a letter, a picture and one of her hair ribbons. He opened the letter, smelled it before reading it.

My dear John,

I miss you every second. Yesterday, one of the kids at school asked me if I was in love. I said yes and got to talk about you with little Timmy Harrison. I even showed a picture of you in class, Ruby said you were really handsome. I found out someone took a picture of us at the dock, I put it in the envelope, so you’d have it. I found it really funny and quite beautiful. In your last letter, you said that you were homesick, I hope it goes away. I hope you're giving the Germans what they deserve. After Pearl Harbor, a lot of men left, we woman, are lonely too. I also give you one of my ribbons, I thought you might like it. Oh, and I have gossip. Do you remember Olivia Dunham? Well, I found out that she cheated on her husband and got pregnant with none other than William Rogers, her music teacher. It was quite the gossip this week. You’ll be pleased to hear that the Yankees won their match and are going to the world series, but I think you found a way to listen to the game with a radio. I miss you, John, I pray that you come home safe, I can’t wait to be Y/n Egan. I love you so much. It hurts when you’re not around. But I know you’re away for a good reason. You’re my hero and the kid’s hero. They call you super John.

PS: Say hi to Buck, Croz, and Curt for me. And tell Curt to stop spooning with you, or I’ll come on the base to tell him.

Forever yours, Y/n

He laughed and smelled her ribbon; it smelled like her. He looked at the picture, he missed her so much, but he was happy that she was okay. Her job as a teacher was keeping her busy, so she had less time to worry about him. He put the picture on his wall, and he tied the ribbon around his right wrist. Bucky sniffed the letter one last time before putting it with the others. He couldn’t wait to get home, he wanted to be with her so much, so he picked up his pen and started to write.

1942, Manitowoc, Wisconsin

Y/n and Marge sat at the table with their letters in hand. Buck actually sent a letter to Y/n in 1941, asking her to look out for Marge, they became friends ever since. ‘’Ready?’’ Marge asked, holding her letter. Y/n nodded and opened the envelope, inside, it had the letter, a picture of a dog and a dollar bit that had two corners bitten off.

My darling Y/n,

Of course, I remember Olivia! I can’t believe she cheated on her husband. I’m glad that the kids like me and think I’m a hero because I don’t really feel like it. It’s hard here. Missions are more regular and harder. The dog on the picture is Meatball, one of the guys brought him on the base, and I know how much you like dogs, so I thought you might like him. He even flies with us sometimes, but he’s howling all the time. Tell Ruby that I’m already in love with someone, or don’t I don’t want to break her heart. Thank you for the ribbon, I wear it around my wrist. It’s my lucky charm. That’s why I send you my lucky deuce, I have a new charm, I don’t need my old one. The guys love the picture of us. They’re jealous of us. I can’t wait for you to be my wife. Thank you for the Yankees news. Can you keep me updated on their journey to victory? I love you most, my darling.

PS: The guys say hi. Curt says he can’t stop spooning with me, even if it’s the fifth time you asked him, it’s cold in England.

Yours truly, John.

Y/n was giggling at the letter, God she was in love with him. When Marge finished her letter, she was smiling too. She even had happy tears streaming down her face. ‘’What’s wrong?’’ Y/n asked. She showed the ring that Buck sends her. ‘’He popped the question’’ she giggled. ‘’Oh my God! I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!’’ she hugged Marge, laughing in happiness. ‘’Will you be my maid of honor?’’ she asked her. ‘’I will be honored to be your maid of honor’’ she smiled. They both squealed in happiness. ‘’I’m getting married!’’ she giggled.

1944, Stalag Luft III

He couldn’t wait for her letter, ever since he got captured, he missed her letters, he hoped she could get his. Because if not, she was going to think he was dead, he didn’t want that, but when his name got called by the mailmen, he was relived, he practically ripped the letter from how hard he grabbed it. There was just the letter inside.

Dear John,

I hope you’re well; I received your letters saying that you got captured. I hope these Krauts are treating you well, otherwise I’ll riot. The kids can’t stop asking about you, so I decided that everyday, 15 minutes before the end of class, I’m talking about you to them. I think Ruby is head over heels in love with you. I’m so happy you’re Buck’s best man, that means we’re going up the aisle together. Marge and I are doing well, we just can’t wait for you guys to return. To know you’re both alive and well is reassuring, we were worried. I love you so much, words on the street are that the war will be over soon. Be careful, say hi to Buck for me.

PS: I forgot to tell you in my last letter that the Yankees won the world series!

Forever yours, Y/n.

He was smiling like the idiot of the village. He couldn’t wait to be back home. He was happy she received his letters; he didn’t think she would. He hoped the war would be over soon, from the camp, he didn’t hear any news, the only one he had was from Buck’s handmade radio.

1945, Manitowoc, Wisconsin

A knock on the door made her jump, she wasn’t expecting anyone, and the mailmen already delivered the letters. When she opened, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

‘’Hello darling’’ he was standing in front of her, he was back. He survived. She dropped her book on the ground and hugged him tightly. ‘’You’re back! Please never leave again” she cried in joy. His embrace made her believe he was real; he was in front of her and real. ‘’I love you so much’’ he said, looking at her. God, he missed her so much. ‘’Come in, do you want anything to drink?’’ she babbled. He shook his head before kissing her, he wanted to do that since he left. ‘’I’m so happy you’re here, I still can’t believe it!’’ she mumbled. He smiled as he kissed her again.

‘’I’m back for good this time, darling, I never should’ve left the way I did, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you riding your bike. I thought about you every second of everyday. Now that I’m back, you’re stuck with me. I love you too much to be apart from you again.’’ He got down on one knee. ‘’Darling, will you marry me?’’ he asked, smiling so hard it made his face hurt. ‘’Yes, thousand time yes!’’ she exclaimed as they shared another passionate kiss.

They were apart for long, but Bucky kept his promise, he was never going to leave her again. Till death do us part, they took their vow seriously…

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #john egan x reader #master of the air imagine #major john egan #john egan #gale cleven #austin butler

[cinnbar-bun]

Affinity (Various OP Characters x Reader)

Characters: Brook, Buggy, Beckman, Crocodile, Zoro, Mihawk, Corazon, Shanks, Law

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~4k

A/n: Reader is GN! I kinda made this after hearing about a special thing in my religion, and decided I wanted to do this. I of course made it more romantic in nature than the original idea goes, but hey, romance! I had my followers choose 7 originally but it went to 9, which is a very lucky number in my religion so maybe it was a sign? Who knows! Please enjoy <3

Tagging: @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @undeadeurydice @i-am-vita @kiribuchi @therosietoesy (sorry, I forgot who asked for Law my bad)

———————————————————————

There is a belief that before you are born, you were once a soul that had existed with other souls. Souls who had an affinity for each other would find that affinity carried in their time as a human. Souls who repelled each other would find that distaste carried over as well. Perhaps it was preordained, fate, destiny- whatever you’d call it. Regardless, it seems your soul has met with someone who once had an affinity for you…

Brook

Being an undead figure unable to pass on was not what Brook had in mind. In some ways, he was grateful for another chance at life, another chance to do what he previously was too dead to finish. Albeit, being a pile of bones did have its drawbacks.

While he could still function and do things many humans did, fact was, he was anything but. One look at him would easily make him stand out as something like a freak of nature.

Skeletons cannot love and be loved like a human. He could hold, but could not be held like a human. Admittedly, it had bothered him on occasion, but he always tried to brush it off with a simple hum or shrug. After all, he had his friends and crewmates- and he had a promise to continue fighting for. That should be enough.

But he couldn’t stop his eyes (if he had any) from wandering… couldn’t stop the way his mind wondered…

Just what could it be like if I too could fall in love?

Ah, but that’s such a silly thing for a skeleton to consider. Who could ever love the undead remains of someone long forgotten?

He’d practically given up on such silly notions like love or a relationship- it didn’t fit his current predicament.

So Brook focused on his music and his performances instead. He held up his violin and decided to waste some time on this sunny day playing for his audience of a few blue birds chirping at this green park. It was beautiful and reminded him of his day with the Rumbar Pirates- agh, nostalgia was always his weakest attribute, he thinks.

His fingers drift along the strings of the instrument, peacefully playing his weary heart away. He doesn’t recognize he has another guest until he hears slow clapping.

“What?” He turns his head, surprised to see you on the bench, smiling and clapping.

“That was lovely,” you comment. Time slows still and your eyes meet, shining (e/c) eyes with hollow black sockets.

If he had skin, perhaps he would’ve been red or sweating buckets. As a skeleton, he was not able to do things. But Brook was still a man through and through, and he couldn’t help but freeze at seeing the way your eyes were soft and full of admiration.

“I’m glad you thought so. Music is my pride and joy.”

“I can tell,” you reply. “I felt like I forgot to breathe for a moment when I heard that. I’m sorry for watching, though, if you weren’t looking for an audience.”

“N-no, actually it was…” he was too caught up in the way his soul was resonating and burning within him. “I appreciate it actually. Would you like me to play a song for you?”

“Would you? I’d love to hear more!”

Buggy

Buggy never believed in things like soulmates or fairy tales or blah blah blah- it was all junk! The only thing he ever could trust was treasure- shiny, bright, treasure! What else did a pirate need or want?

Is what he would say out loud- Buggy, even at a young age, was secretly a romantic who refused to let himself be swept up in the sentiment. When him and Shanks would sail together on Roger’s ship, Shanks would often ask what he thought about love.

Unlike Buggy, Shanks was pretty honest and confident about his assertions. Buggy would stumble and try to keep the bravado up, pretending as if he didn’t secretly yearn for a person who could look past his red nose and maybe possibly sorta kinda like him? Was that too much to ask? If you were Buggy, the answer was yes, because he would never allow himself the chance to be soft or vulnerable with someone. Especially not when he was already so sensitive about his looks and attitude. The thought of letting his guard down to be loved terrified him- what if they left? What if they made fun of him, too?

It was just too much for his fragile ego, so he brushed it aside and continued his hunt for treasure.

“Now where the hell am I?” He yelled, tilting the map in his hand left and right, as if that would somehow make his destination clearer. “Kinda crappy treasure map is this?”

He glared and shoved the map back in his pocket as he stomped around this town. He hadn’t ever bothered to come to this place before, so everything was new for him. He glared at the kids who were pointing at his nose to scare them off (mission accomplished), but his foul attitude still didn’t lessen.

As Buggy turned a corner, he accidentally rammed into someone. They shrieked, and his hat fell off his face and covered his eyes.

“Watch it, will ya? I’m walkin’ he…” he pushed his hat back up and came face to face with perhaps the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. His mouth was wide open, gawking at you as you gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” you said sheepishly.

“Y-yeah it’s… it’s cool. No biggie,” he mumbled in a daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, totally.”

You chuckle at his behavior, and something within Buggy’s chest makes it feel like there’s a million butterflies flapping inside his ribcage. He can’t help the dumb grin on his face as he laughs along.

“Sorry again, sir. I’ll keep an eye out for you next time,” you wink and begin walking away, making Buggy flabbergasted. N-next time? Was that a promise? He didn’t even realize what he was thinking before he turned around and tried to jog back to you.

“H-hey, wait up-!”

Beckman

Beckman was fairly ambivalent to the idea of a “soulmate” or “affinity”. Sure, he humored his often childish captain with those notions, but the fact was, Beckman was simply a sailor at heart. He didn’t think being “stuck” to someone was the life he wanted, and he was fairly sure a sane, rational person would not want to be the lover of a first mate to perhaps one of the most infamous pirate crews on the sea.

Now, this would imply you were sane and rational, and this would also imply that he was also not a sucker for you. Perhaps that was what made him attracted to you in the first place, or maybe it was something that gave him the idea that his captain wasn’t so off base.

When it came to you, Beckman was eager, a bit too eager, the others would joke. Whenever you called, he came running and answering like a loyal servant. Whenever you wrote, his lips would form a large smile while he refused to let the others look at the letter you sent. Whenever he was away from you for long periods of time, he drank a bit too much.

It was common place enough for the others to notice and tease him about, even if Beckman was adamant there was nothing there. You guys were just… friends, or something ambiguous like that. You didn’t need a label for your relationship. This was completely normal, you were normal, he was normal- nothing was out of the ordinary, so if they would please stop asking and make him confront those pesky feelings he-

Maybe he had a problem. He never felt this way for anyone else he encountered. You knew of his philandering, not seeming to care all that much, but damn it, even he couldn’t continue that streak because his mind would get occupied with you, you, you. Love was too complicated. Maybe this was the alcohol talking. Or Shanks getting in his head about “souls being attuned” or whatever spiritual jazz the red-haired captain would spout.

No, it really made sense, all things considered. There was no one else but you to make him quit fooling around with others on the islands he stopped at. There was no one else but you who invaded his thoughts, who plagued him day and night with those eyes, that smile, the way you hated that red cologne he once bought and-

Oh dear god, he was deep into this, wasn’t he?

Crocodile

Love? Spirits? Souls? Soulmates?

Yeah right, add that to the list of stupid things weak poets say to make their miserable lives have some meaning. You could jump through a million hoops to try and blame encounters and relationships on things like “destiny” or “fate”. To a man like Crocodile, however, “destiny” was just something he could control. Whether through bribes of money or through making them submit with his fearsome powers, “destiny” was nothing but another means of his affluence.

Only those who were weak and had nothing could not control their lives.

Something like love was a crutch used by those who had nothing to pretend they did. What was love to power? What was love to wealth? To fame? To greatness?

Love was the longest-running scam that Crocodile almost could be impressed with, if not for the fact that the sentiment around love made him want to gag.

Except, now he was actively looking for jewelry to buy you, flowers to deliver to your doorstep, and outfits to clothe you in for when you visited him.

It was almost disgusting how Crocodile was eagerly awaiting for your next arrival, for when he could be able to see you on the street or at his casino so he could see that face he adored so much. Those eyes that made him want to melt, that voice that echoed in his head, that smile that made him want to have an image of you adorned on his wall so he could always see it.

Something, he could never place what it was, drew him to you. Something made you seem to stand out to him in ways that no other could. He was Crocodile- world famous business man and pirate- he had no shortage of people throwing themselves at him or fearing him. Only to you was he trying his luck attempting to woo you to give him that look he loved. Only for you was he making excuse after excuse to continue seeing you, lying over and over that he had a reason to use you, that it was just a part of some master plan.

He exhaled another puff of his cigar and rubbed his temples.

Gods, why was he acting this way? He was Crocodile. Not a lovesick teenage boy, not some lonely man, not some simpering-

“Sir, (Y/n) has arrived.” His ears perked up as he quickly slicked back his hair.

“Is that so? Send them up,” he orders, grabbing his expensive cologne to spray onto him again.

Zoro

Zoro had never heard of the idea of soulmates or anything like that. When one lives, breathes, and dies by the sword, something like “soulmates” is just comical. He doesn’t need love to become the best swordsman. He didn’t need love to teach him how to pick up a sword and kill another with it. That was, in fact, the complete opposite of love.

Survival of the fittest, he thought. Nothing more, nothing less. You kill for bounties, bounties that pay, pay that gives you a chance to eat food. Nothing more to it. He never did more than he needed to, never worked harder for anything outside of his sword training and hunting. What else did a swordsman need to live?

He was currently drinking his fill at a local tavern of some random village he washed out upon. He didn’t care to get names, not when he was always moving, always killing, always leaving. “Zoro” was a passing chance encounter few got to ever meet or understand. He was fine with that. A bounty hunter didn’t need attachments. A bounty hunter definitely didn’t need someone weighing him down.

At the tavern, a few rowdy pirates were acting up. Yelling obscenities, throwing food and liquor at one another, making rude gestures- nothing out of the ordinary for drunk pirates. Zoro had no business with them, so he ignored them, continuing to order pint after pint.

It wasn’t until he heard a crash that he looked up. You were angrily yelling at one of the pirates who threw a drink at you, and his mates were drawing their weapons. It was clear you were outnumbered, so you looked around the bar for anyone that would help.

Normally, Zoro wouldn’t bother, figuring you dug your own grave by messing with pirates like that. However, when he glanced to your eyes, he found himself… staring. Lost. Entranced?

He didn’t know why he felt like he should protect you, but he always had a good intuition when it came to these sorts of things. He sighed, placed his mug down, then stood up, drawing his swords from their sheathes.

“Zoro,” he stated. A rare thing for him to admit so casually to a normal person. The pirates heard his name and shriveled up in fear. Zoro didn’t pay them any mind, instead tapping his sword against his shoulder impatiently. “Need me to shut these guys up?”

Mihawk

If you had asked a young Mihawk about love, he would have most certainly called you a fool for daring to think of such illogical things instead of focusing on one’s own strength and potential. While he had heard of the sentiments about love and soulmates before, he didn’t place much value into it. Love was a distraction from the training he could have done. Love was a waste of time. Love was just for weak-minded people who let themselves be vulnerable or gentle with another. Love wasn’t for people like him.

Which was why he was now trying to instill the opposite into his foolhardy protege, Zoro. Yes, yes, unfortunately, Mihawk was proven wrong from his earlier ways of thinking, and ever since then, he’s been doing his best to be a good man for you.

“I didn’t think a guy like you would have a partner…” Zoro would mumble.

“Of course I would. Do I not look like a suitable husband?” Mihawk replied as he was sipping his wine. “A marriage is only an aspect of your training and power.”

“How does cooking dinner help you train?” Zoro raised a brow, not believing a word.

“If you cannot handle a routine for even the most mundane and domestic of tasks, you cannot expect to be disciplined enough to train. If you think something like making your love a cup of tea or folding laundry is too hard or not worthy enough, you are not worthy enough to hold a sword.”

Zoro nodded, impressed by Mihawk’s reasoning (or maybe impressed at how you somehow made the world’s greatest swordsman so whipped and happy to make you dinner).

“Well, when you put it like that,” Zoro scratched his cheek, looking back at his mentor to see him staring at you longingly from the window. You and Perona were outside picking some of the vegetables at the garden, an activity you insisted upon doing despite Mihawk’s protests. You and the young lady were joking and laughing about something Perona said, and Mihawk sighed.

“Something wrong?” Zoro asked, unsure what Mihawk was thinking with his stoic appearance.

“No, not at all,” Mihawk shook his head, taking another sip.

“Then why did you sigh like that?” Zoro questioned. A smirk grew on Mihawk’s lips as he chuckled, continuing to look at you. You… you who were so special, who had become the apple of his eye, his strength, his joy, his passion.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand it right now, my student,” Mihawk closed his eyes. “Fate is… it’s simply a humorous thing.”

Corazon

He always was a sensitive soul, despite his outer appearance and harsh exterior. But even as a child, Law could tell something was up with Corazon.

“Why are you always looking at them?” Law grumpily asked, folding his arms and raising a brow at his benefactor.

“Hm? At who?” Corazon dumbly responded, cigarette in his lips.

“You know who I mean! Don’t act stupid!” Law shouted. Corazon chuckled and exhaled the smoke.

“Sorry, gotta be more specific.”

Of course, Corazon knew who Law was referring to. It wasn’t like Corazon had hidden his affection for you, but that was for another time. You were something special, something that Corazon yearned for but could never have. Not when Doflamingo’s influence was so large and looming over his life. But even if Corazon himself could not love you so freely, he always did like to tell the young boy stories. Of course, Law, being a jaded little boy, had never really given thought to such things like “soulmates” or “souls knowing each other”. That was stupid and impossible.

Corazon liked to believe, though. It comforted him. It made him feel happy that, hey, even if this life perhaps didn’t work out for him and you, at least he had known you before. At least he was able to see you again. At least he got you in his life for a moment, even if it would end in nothing but heartache and pain. At he least, for just a bit, he got to see that smile, those eyes, and feel your hands over his.

It made his life a little less hard, a little less dull. The romanticism that despite Doffy meddling in his life, Corazon still had a chance with you, was meant to know and be with you… well, that was plenty enough for him. It made him happier, too, knowing Law was perhaps a soul he was acquainted with before. It made him feel like he was always going to be guaranteed love and kindness with you and Law, even if the world was unkind to him.

Yes, this new family he had found was perhaps where he belonged the most. With you and Law by his side, there was nothing more he could ask for.

Shanks

“You’re obsessed.”

“Am not!” Shanks yelled childishly at Beckman, before turning back to face the island they were planning on docking at soon. The wide smile on his face made it clear he was beyond excited to be there, and the other men chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on running off to see em?” Yassop asked, knowing the answer.

“Oh, stop bugging about it! It’s just a little reunion with (Y/n), not anything crazy,” Shanks waved off. He breathed into his palm and winced at the smell of his breath. “Crap, does anyone have any mouthwash?”

“I don’t think anything can get that stench out. If they hadn’t run away cuz of your smell before, I think you’re good now!”

“Haha, very funny guys. Besides, it’s just between friends. Nothing weird.”

Of course, that was a bit of a fib, but who doesn’t tell little white lies? Surely he’d be forgiven for saying that by whomever was possibly in charge of making this happen?

Shanks, even with his overwhelming power and influence, did believe in superstition. It would be foolish not to, especially in such a dangerous world that a pirate inhabits. Sure, some of them were old wive’s tales from scared-straight sailors, but he did find them having some merit. He didn’t like to discount the seemingly impossible, not when it made even the most outlandish things possible.

He believed it was fate he got to meet Buggy and be a part of Roger’s crew. He believed it fate he met little Luffy in Foosha Village. He also believed it was fate he saved you that day. Some things just “made sense” like that to Shanks. It certainly made his life more interesting while also giving him a chance to bother you as always.

“Oh, come on, you can’t really kick out your soulmate, can you?” Shanks would tease.

“Soulmate?” You laugh. “Is this your attempt at proposing to me?”

“Hey, if you’d like it to be, I can absolutely make it happen,” Shanks replied, an earnest look in his eyes. You smile at him- crap, how do you always manage to make him ache and miss you? It’s gotta be fate, because no way could anyone have his heart in tight vice like this.

“Well… if you’re insisting, Captain,” you begin, smirking at him. “Why not take me with you? As your soulmate.”

Shanks’s eyes widened and the look on his face was a mixture of bewilderment and excitement.

“You know I can always make room for you,” he answered, trying to steady himself.

“Good. Although, we could share a room.”

“You drive a hard bargain, dear,” he chugs his rum. “Cheers to us!”

Law

Since he was a young boy, Law always tried to remain by himself. You couldn’t really trust anyone in a world of piracy and violence like that. Corazon, of course, always recommended otherwise. He even shared stories about a place where souls all were together.

It didn’t sound plausible or even remotely make sense. How would you even know if your soul was supposedly affiliated with someone?

It had been years since those days and the loss of Corazon, and even though he tried his hardest not to, Law still kept those stories in his mind. They were pointless and silly, but they were something Corazon believed wholeheartedly, even saying it was a miracle he got to meet a young Law. In some ways, Law felt somewhat similarly.

Love wasn’t for someone like Law. Too damaged, too cold, too logical, too afraid to ever let that feeling grow. It was how he stayed and remained for his life, and how he was planning on operating for the rest of time.

Until you, quite literally, crashed into him.

Jeez, you had to be a pest. Or a virus. Or a parasite. Something like that, but gosh, you were contagious. When you smiled, he found himself wanting to smile back. When you talked, he found himself thinking over every word you spoke in great detail. Maybe he was overthinking things, maybe when you said you were happy to have met him that was just you being friendly. Or something.

Almost always his mind drifted to you, feeling a certain way for you that he didn’t feel with the others in his crew or from the Straw Hats. You were different.

Perfect? Maybe. Definitely too good for someone like him, he’d think. But even with that self-loathing and apprehension, he found himself being drawn to you like a magnet.

Cora, if this is what you meant before…

Damn it, now he was letting things like soulmates and affinity cloud his judgment. He was a grown man, not a young boy, he didn’t need those silly delusions and ideas growing in his head and making him think he had a chance with you.

“Tora-o!” Luffy called. “Come here!!”

“No,” Law grumbled.

“Law,” you asked right after. “Do you mind helping me with this?”

“...yes,” he replied, stoically walking up to you to see what your problem was. Luffy gawked and pouted from the side, while a few of the others chuckled at Law.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece oneshots #x reader #reader insert #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman #shanks x reader #shanks #law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk #mihawk x reader #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #crocodile #rosinante corazon #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #op brook x reader #soul king brook x reader #soulmate au #roronoa zoro x reader #soul king brook

[hubristicassholefight]

Swordswoman Showdown Round 4/Quarterfinal

Kikunojo (One Piece) vs Brienne of Tarth (A Song Of Ice and Fire)

(Better here in a "preferred character" sense, not "who would win in a fight")

Propaganda below cut

Kikunojo

She is a samurai and a retainer for the Kozuki Family, serving as one of the Nine Red Scabbards, a group of samurai that protect the Kozuki family and their country. She's a very skillful samurai, and she and her group managed to delay and hold off the main villain of the arc, (which was an almost insurmountable task for even the main character) and survived the experience despite her horrible injuries; She's canonically and openly trans! And she's gorgeous. And huge... She's 287 cm tall, which for the USAmericans in the audience is 9' 5". She's simply the coolest.

She’s a samurai and fights with a sword; tall trans woman <3

Legendary devoted samurai!; She's 2.87m tall, a time traveler, and not even losing an arm in the middle of the fight stopped her- she had it imediately cauterized and went back to the fight.

She's a lady samurai! Pretty and very skillful with her katana!

She is a samurai who was sent 20 years into the future to avenge the death of her lord; She’s so tall and canonically trans and I love her

She’s a badass samurai who fights for what she believes in and to help people. She is known as Kiku of lingering snow. She’s also canonically trans

She's a time traveling trans samurai, the only woman in a group of 9 legendary samurais; Her arm was chopped off by the biggest baddie so far and she continued fighting, isn't that badass?

One of the strongest samurai in her country; She's a trans icon

#kiku the greatest of all time#🐐#tall and gorgeous samurai lady#who is a trans icon#love that she is so tall that she doesn't fit in the image display#gets recognized as strong by the main character multiple times and proves it by being the most resilient badass of the entire arc#stands up to tyrants and abusers of class privilege#also helps break said main character out of the enemies prison and takes part in a rebellion against the corrupt prison staff#one piece#okiku#kiku

#kiku is canonically trans

Brienne

gets gifted a sword made with the rarest metal ever because she’s THAT good; she’s simply the best

Brienne is one of the top sword users alive in her day. She's descended from a man who's catchphrase was "I'm better with a sword." Better than what? You. Jaime Lannister. Loras Tyrell. Any five given guys at once. She has a fantastic sword that might be magic or cursed and is named Oathkeeper because that's what she does; I love her

Beat like 20 guys in a tournament when she was 19. Was given a magic sword. Won a sword fight against the premier swordsman in the realm. Very swordly; Very tall and strong. Holds her sword in high esteem. Accomplished with other weapons as well!

She's defeated multiple of the top knights in the series in duels. One such knight gifts her the fabergé egg of swords and she uses it to defend orphans and stuff. Got out of a bad betrothal by dueling him and beating his ass so bad she broke multiple bones. Honestly there's so much more she is the swordswoman of all time. to me; She's buff and ugly and 6' 5" and so honorable and kind that she inspires the guy who fucks his sister to yknow. stop doing that. literally gets mauled for the sake of protecting a bunch of orphans (with her sword). also she's 20 she should be at the club ‼️

One of the best sword wielders in Westeros, the author says he would pick her to defend him. Has a cool sword called Oathkeeper. Manages to go up against 7 fighters and take out most of them,. The only true knight; First off, talking about book brienne, they massacred show brienne, the show runners simply didn’t understand what she’s about.“ She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice” brienne had plenty of choice but she couldn’t leave people to die. The chivalric paradigm is rotten and corrupted, but here is Brienne, the one true knight, who isn’t even a actual knight! “knights are for killing”, but here is a knight who risks her life again and again to protect innocents! Bri IS hope, she is the light in the dark that shows that things can be better, things must be better. Fundamentally an idealist: “Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining”

#kikunojo #one piece #brienne of tarth #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #poll #official #swordswoman showdown #round 4 #quarterfinals

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Notes: So, this is my oopsy of adding another story to my roster, but oh well. Here's my other note: Just a little side note. To make this story work, I had to de-age the majority of the characters. So, Dick is 15, Cass 10, Jason 9, Tim 7, Duke 6, and Damian 4. Just FYI. Obvi The Nanny Inspired

Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batfamily, platonically, x reader

Summary: One day, after getting fired from your job by your ex, you somehow ended up in Wayne Manor as the family's new nanny. Working with six kids is tough enough, but the handsome, rich, and emotionally confused father, billionaire Bruce Wayne, who is just too charming makes it a bit more difficult as your feelings for him confuse you. Nonetheless, you love the job and the kids, but soon enough you realize that maybe you're falling in love with the boss, too.

Pilot Pt. 1

“You have to be kidding me, fired?” You said shocked, leaning over the counter.

Your boyfriend then quickly added, “And, I’m breaking up with you.” 

The words could not come off your lips. Instead, you babbled for a good thirty seconds before just turning on your heel to leave. You stopped a couple of times to say something, but the shock was still settling in. It wasn’t until you were outside, watching people on the street that your senses came back. Turning around, you sucked in a breath and threw open the store door.

You pointed at your ex and loudly announced, “You have a small dick, and I’m collecting unemployment! So, hah!” 

Not feeling the victory, but glad that there were more than a dozen people to continue the rumor of your boyfriend’s supposedly small penis, you left.

Luckily, you were quick to find another gig thanks to a family friend. Granted, you hated going door to door trying to sell insurance in Gotham, but it paid you just enough not to be out on the street. This week, however, you were assigned to the other end of the city—The rich part. And, it certainly did live up to your expectations. These people had yards and gardens, and the air even smelled better. If you could only find a rich man, you think you’d be very happy in such a place. 

You looked down at the list of addresses your boss had given you before looking back up at the impressive sight of the house. With a sigh, you pressed the buzzer on the gate and went over your script. 

“Hello, my name is…” 

Before you could finish a British accent came through the buzzer. “Are you here for the nanny position?”

Looking around, you didn’t see a reason as to why you shouldn’t say yes. Absent-mindedly, you said, “I could be.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, um, yes! Yes, I am.” It couldn’t hurt 

Suddenly, another buzz and the sound was clicking of the gate unlocking. Cautiously, you pushed your way through and you headed up the path to the front door. It was a near quarter mile to get to the house and up a hill. By the time you got up to the front of the house, you were winded and slightly sweaty. At the top of the stairs stood an old man in a suit, looking down at you with indifference. Slowly, you climbed the stairs to him. 

“You really gotta warn a girl if she’s gonna take a hike,” You huffed. 

“Most people drive,” The old man said, and you recognized the accent from the buzzer. 

You snickered at the old man, following him in, and you were amazed by just how wonderful the place was. As you entered, you did a turn, and you were amazed by just how big the house—No, mansion—was. 

“Would you like me to present your resume to Mr. Wayne?” Asked the man. 

Luckily, you were quick on your feet, “No, I’ll do it myself. Thank you.”

The man relented, giving you a disbelieving look, and went away. You sat down in one of the chairs in the foyer, quickly pulling out some papers to write some type of passable resume. As you were going for a pen, you realized quickly that you didn’t have one. Panicked, you looked around for one. 

“Ugh,” A voice said, and a boy no older than seven or eight stumbled from a doorway. On him, fake blood and a knife. He cried, “I’m dying!” before collapsing onto the floor. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a pen, would you?” You asked, but the boy didn’t respond. Defeated, you decided quickly what you said as you saw the old man and a younger, much more handsome return. 

“Tim,” The younger man said. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t scare the guests.”

The boy opened his eyes, “I'm studying people's reactions to gore and pain.”

The man rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to you. He held out his hand toward you to shake, you took it and instantly liked the way his grip was strong. “I’m Bruce Wayne—”

“Oh, yeah! I’ve seen you on TV,” You said excitedly. “I loved the black suit you wore for that ceremony in the park last month.”

Mr. Wayne seemed taken aback by the compliment, but thank you anyway. “Just follow me into the kitchen. We can talk more there.” As he started to lead you away, he turned to the boy still lying on the floor. “Tim, go clean up, please.”

“I will, but only because you said please!” The boy cried out. 

Mr. Wayne shook his head and asked you not to mind him for now. Smiling, you replied that it was no big deal, kids were going to be kids either way. He seemed to agree with you on that and asked you more about yourself. You told him as much as you could think of, not willing or wanting to hold anything back. 

When you finally sat at the kitchen table did you stop talking to let Mr. Wayne talk, but he seemed more pleased to listen. Though, you knew better than to rattle on more than necessary. Maybe, you thought, this was why so many women thought him to be such a charming guy. 

“Can I see your resume, then?” He asked. 

Laughing nervously, you said, “Oh, uh, well, you see, I lost it on my way over here.”

“Is that right?” Mr. Wayne said, sounding like he didn’t entirely believe you. 

“Yes! Yes, it’s the damnedest thing,” You said. “I always seem to have these bouts of terrible luck.”

“Uh-huh,” He said. 

You were going to answer when a voice called out, “Dad!” 

Just then, two boys, one about fifteen and the other around ten, walked in. They seemed surprised to see you when they entered, glancing at their father before telling you hello. You got up, walking over to the boys and cupping their cheeks. 

“My, look how handsome!” You looked over your shoulder at Mr. Wayne. “And those pretty blue eyes! They must get them from you.”

“We’re adopted,” The younger one said. “And I’m Jason.”

You grinned and bent over to look at the boy. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m…”

“You’re the new nanny?” The older boy said. 

You started to answer, but Mr. Wayne cut you off. He told the boy, named Richard, that he could be nicer to you. Richard, or Dick as he called himself unfortunately, protested that Bruce was shuffling his responsibilities on some random lady from the inner city. Bruce was quick to dismiss him to his room, stating that they would speak later, and immediately apologized to you. 

“A kid makes a smart-ass comment, what’re you gonna do?” You smiled. 

“Right,” Bruce cleared his throat, not paying attention to what you were saying. “Well, those two were the oldest boys, I have one girl between them. Then, it’s Tim, Duke, and Damian. My youngest is four.”

“Trying to build a basketball team, Mr. Wayne?” You couldn’t help, but laugh at your joke. He didn’t seem as amused by it, so you quickly went quiet. 

“Yes, well, thank you for coming, but I don’t think I’m in the mood to hire sales girls from off the street.”

You rolled your eyes, mumbling that you could do it and that you had plenty of experience in taking care of children as you babysat a lot when you were a teenager. Mr. Wayne didn’t seem to hear anything you said, though, nor the phone ringing off the hook. 

“Alfred! Will you get that,” He called, seeming a bit stressed. 

“Oh, you cannot be that rich not to answer your phone,” You said, getting up and picking up the phone from the receiver. Putting it to your ear, you answered, “Wayne residence.”

“Give me that,” Mr. Wayne said and snatched the phone from your hand. “Hello?”

He went back and forth with the person on the other line, talking about how he needed a nanny. Yet, he seemed to be getting nowhere. The entire time, you laid yourself in front of him as he tried to talk to the person on the other end to get him a nanny. After a minute or two, he put the receiver down and looked at you. 

You grinned, knowing that you got the job. “You’re hired—On a trial basis!”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Wayne!” You threw yourself at him, squeezing him tight. “You won’t regret it.”

“Right,” Bruce cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll have Alfred show you to your room—”

“I get to live here?” You asked excitedly. 

Bruce almost smiled, but held it back. “Yes. If you like.”

“If I like,” You laughed like he was joking. “Of course. Oh, it’s going to be great.”

Mr. Wayne nodded, acting like he believed you, but didn’t know for sure. He wondered if he made the right choice not only for his children but for himself as well. Since he only knew you for half an hour, he found himself being intrigued by you.

Despite this, how he felt didn’t matter. All that did matter was if the children liked you and if you were competent enough to look after them. After all, it wasn’t like he was going to fall in love with you. 

#jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batfamily #clark kent #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #damain al ghul #tim drake #nightwing #robin dc #robin #cassandra cain #duke thomas #bruce wayne is a good father #dc batfam #batfamily shenanigans

[gurugirl]

Mint Chocolate Chip | Check-in 9*

Summary: Based on this ask. You and Harry take a much needed vacation.

A/N: Enjoy this smutty fun beach vaca featuring a bit of jealousrry. 6k words (went a little overboard).

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, this is kidnapper!harry x reader and so this might not be your thing, smut, possessiveness and jealousy, punishment, and plenty of fluff.

Mint Chocolate Chip Masterlist

Harry had gotten spooked pretty badly when you were recognized at the restaurant and then when you both saw your face on the news on your birthday. He knew you would just tell anyone who questioned you that you were with him willingly. But that didn’t make him feel a whole lot better about it. He didn’t like the questions or the prying. You two had been in your little bubble in his house for long enough that you’d both gotten used to the way things were.

But he couldn’t keep you trapped inside forever.

Well, actually he could if he wanted. He had all the means to do it and he had your complicity. Your loyalty.

And in many ways that all appealed to him. Locking you inside and never letting you out again after that disaster of a dinner outing and knowing your face had been on the news and people were looking for you.

Making you happy, though, was also important to him. You’d proven your devotion to him. You weren’t going anywhere. You had many chances to break free and run away during the random days when he was not in the house for hours at a time. You were allowed in the backyard and could even simply unlock the front door and walk away. But you were always there waiting for him when he returned.

Which was why he wanted to show you his gratitude.

It was time to take you on a vacation. To a place somewhere you could both be out in the open and where no one would recognize you.

He’d researched places and vacation types. States with pretty mountains and cabin retreats. Beaches in California and Florida.

“What do you like better? Going to the beach? Or like a big city? Mountains?”

You looked up from the book you were reading. You had her legs draped over Harry’s thighs as you rested on the couch after dinner. He had been intently looking at something on his phone.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean for vacation. You and me. I was thinking we could go somewhere for a week. What do you like best for a vacation?” Harry reworded.

You put your book down and slid your legs off Harry, sitting up straight as youx` faced him, “You want to take me on a vacation?”

“Of course, I do. Think it would be good for us both.”

The idea of going on a vacation with Harry worried you a little. You definitely would have enjoyed laying on a beach somewhere with him and eating seafood under a palapa but you were worried about being spotted. About Harry getting upset or nervous. Honestly, you worried more about him than you did yourself, which was crazy when you thought about that with a rational mind.

“Um… I would love to go to a beach. See the ocean. But how can we do that?”

Harry knew you couldn’t fly anywhere. He was certain the moment you got to the airport and checked in your name would be flagged in the system and the police would be called. He considered getting you a fake ID and passport but the vacation idea had been spontaneous and he didn’t have that much time to put something together like that.

“We’d take a road trip. Rent a small beach house or something.”

“A road trip. To a beach somewhere. Okay. I like the sound of that.”

.           .           .

Between you and Harry, you both found a beautiful small beach in Northern California and picked a one-bedroom beach house on Airbnb, not right on the beach, but across the street and up a path. It was an eight-hour drive away, but it would be fun, and you two planned on stopping at the small diners and antique shops along the way.

You had it all mapped out. The spots you’d stop at if you had time, the route that took you to a mom-and-pop hamburger spot that had glowing reviews, a nearby small-town museum you could pop into, and a lake with hiking trails to stretch your legs.

When you arrived in Cloverdale the first stop was the hamburger dive. It was cute. You both stretched as you climbed out of the vehicle and Harry looked so… young… unbothered. You hadn’t seen him look like this ever. Perhaps it was the fact that he could be out with you and not have to worry at all. That he wasn’t keeping you in his house as his captive. It was as if something had been lifted. He’d been unburdened.

You slid your hand into his and stood on your tiptoes to kiss his chin, “I’m hungry. How about you?”

The burgers were good but the tater tots were the star of the meal. Both you and Harry agreed. You got a vanilla milkshake with strawberry topping stirred in and Harry got an iced coffee.

You skipped the museum but decided on a quick peek at the park with the lake and the trails.

It felt nice to be on your feet and walking around outside. The town was beautiful and the little park hidden at the center was cute and maybe even nicer than the photos you’d seen online.

The last few hours to the beach house were peaceful. The traffic was nearly nonexistent. You could feel the last bits of stress and anxiety fall away and Harry’s sudden demeanor lightened even more.

The house was cute. It was in a small neighborhood with a handful of other small houses. A trail at the end of the road led you down to the beach and the ocean could be seen from the living room window.

But before you could really get into vacation mode it was necessary to get some groceries. The house had all the basics already. Coffee, salt, oil, water, and even a bottle of wine from one of the nearby vineyards, courtesy of the host.

The small shop up the road had everything you needed. You perused the wines while Harry loaded the basket with food you two might want during your week. You’d planned on going out to eat as well, but much of your time would be spent lounging on the beach and sleeping in, according to Harry.

“That’s my favorite one. It’s a good price too,” you heard a voice from behind you as you were looking down at a bottle of a red blend. You turned to find a young man looking over your shoulder.

You lifted the bottle up, “Really? Well, then I guess I’ll add this to the basket,” you said with a smile as you placed it in your small cart.

“Lots of good wineries around here. We’re pretty proud of the grapes that come from this area. You new here or just passing through?”

“Oh, just sort of passing through. Staying for a week just a few blocks away. Small beach vacation.”

“Interesting. Not many people choose this town for a beach vacation. What made you choose it?”

“Um… well it just seemed so quant and nice. Plus all the vineyards nearby and trails.”

“You’ll be around for a week? Where are you staying?”

You shot your gaze toward Harry who was already looking at you from the other side of the small shop with an unreadable expression, “Yeah. A week. Just got in today. And, uh, me and my boyfriend are staying not too far from here. Rented an Airbnb close to the beach.”

The young man’s brows raised, “Ahh… I wasn’t sure if he was a boyfriend or uncle…” he laughed quietly. You frowned.

Harry was a bit older than you but you didn’t imagine he looked like an uncle. And you were already losing your patience with the guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong but you weren’t used to small talk with strangers anymore. The guy was grating.

Suddenly Harry’s warm hand was on your shoulder as he pulled you into himself. His other arm reached around your frame and held it out to the young man, “I’m Harry, this is my girlfriend, Y/n. You are?”

The guy grinned and reached out to grasp Harry’s hand in a shake that seemed far too aggressive and you weren’t sure if the jostle of the shake came from Harry’s end or the other’s.

“Chris. Nice to meet you both,” his hand fell back down to his side as Harry brought his other palm up to your arm, holding you a bit possessively, “I was just sharing with Y/n here about the great wineries we’ve got nearby. Some of the best wine in the world comes from this region.”

“Is that so? We’ll be sure to enjoy some of the best wines during our stay here then. But, we do have to be going so… It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Harry pulled you away and guided you to the register to buy everything. You hadn’t experienced Harry being jealous before. You’d never had the opportunity. And you weren’t sure that that was what that was just now but you also weren’t dumb. You knew Harry was very possessive of you.

On the car ride back you picked a radio station and pulled a bottle of wine from the bag, “Can’t wait to crack this one open. Says it’s reminiscent of strawberries straight off the vine,” you read from the label.

Harry smiled at you and nodded, “Yeah that does sound good. We can drink it on the beach if you want. I’m ready to get my toes in the sand.”

So that’s just what you did. You put your bathing suits on and stuffed a bag with towels and the bottle of wine before walking up the trail to the lovely sandy beach and finding a spot to toss your towels and uncork the bottle.

The sun was already beginning to set and the wind had picked up but it was still nice and balmy. The backdrop of the waves crashing and birds soaring above, the smell of the ocean, and a few stragglers walking in the distance felt very much like you were living in a romantic movie.

Harry handed you the bottle of wine and you laughed, realizing you both forgot cups or glasses but also just tossing aside concern for that small detail. You brought the bottle up to your lips and took a drink of the red blend, which turned out, your pallet was not quite sensitive enough to pick up a single strawberry-from-the-vine note the label boasted.

You looked back down at the bottle as you gulped the red liquid down your throat and pointed at the label, “Tastes nothing like strawberry. But it’s good.” You smiled as you handed the bottle to Harry who mimicked you in putting the bottle to his lips to take a drink.

He laughed as he brought the bottle down and shook his head, “It’s like those wine tasters who put in notes of pencil shaving and charred almonds. I never taste those sorts of things. Just tastes like…” you both grinned and said the word “wine!” in unison as you laughed.

Despite the lack of strawberry flavor the bottle of wine, Harry’s company, and the sand under your toes felt incredible.

Harry pulled you into his chest so you were sitting between his legs and had your back against him. The whole scene was romantic. You were outside on the beach with a bottle of wine in your lover’s arms as you watched the sunset slowly until the sky was pink and purple and orange on the horizon.

Harry nipped at your neck and sighed making you giggle and pull away but he held you tight and laughed into your neck, “So, Chris was awfully friendly. What did he say to you before I got there?”

You rolled your eyes but kept the grin on your face, “He was just talking about the vineyards and the wine. Recommended this one,” you said as you tapped the empty bottle, “Asked why we chose this spot for vacation. That was it really.”

“So he’s nosey. And he has questionable taste in wine.”

You snickered and shook your head to turn and look at him, “Were you jealous?”

Harry squinted his eyes at you and licked his lips before looking out toward the ocean, “Of course not.”

You leaned back into him and smiled. He definitely was.

.           .           .

When you walked back to the little house up the trail Harry kept hold of your hand. You hadn’t had many moments with him away from his house. Having him holding your hand and keeping you steady as you stepped carefully over the small rocks and the sand along the dark trail made you feel like you did when you were a kid. It was fun and the darkness was exciting. But it also gave you a sense of safety with his hand wrapped around yours as he led you carefully through the path. But there was also the fact that you’d had half a bottle of wine.

“I’m already having so much fun, Harry,” you said as you entered the house and Harry sat the bag down next to the door.

Harry smirked and locked the door, grabbing your hips and pulling you in, his wine-stained mouth connected to yours in haste. You hadn’t expected it at all. He had been quiet the whole way back, which wasn’t out of the norm for him. Harry wasn’t much of a talker, you did well to fill in the silence with your near-constant rambling. But still, you hadn’t thought he’d be all over you the moment you stepped into the door.

“Let’s go test out that bed,” he spoke quietly and turned you around to walk you toward the bedroom.

Now, the thing was that your sex drive was high. For Harry it was. You were sure that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Obviously, you were a virgin before you met him but he was so good at what he did and the way he made you feel, the way you’d get wet for him in an instant, just the way he trained you, you were usually begging him for his come every night. He liked to act as if he was aloof or didn’t need it because he loved to watch you squirm, hear you beg…

But tonight was different. He wanted you and he was being quite handsy suddenly. Needy even, you’d say. He was already hard in his shorts when he put you on the bed and pulled your bathing suit off.

He gave you little preamble before pasting his lips to your cunt and bringing you to your first orgasm for the night. He made it messy and noisy too. His moans vibrated off your body and sounded through the room as he fed from your pussy. His fingers and hand were drenched and he wiped his face through your folds until he was coated in your arousal from the bridge of his nose to the bottom of his chin. You were breathless and shivering as you called his name.

And you had no time to recover before he was wrecking your insides with his long cock. The bed rocked under his thrusts and his dirty words were whispered into the room, “My pussy, my girl… no one gets to have this. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

You gasped and nodded, unable to form words when your lungs were searching for air from the way he pounded into you, punching into your guts and rendering you a breathy mess under him.

“S’right. My little girl. All these holes are mine to come inside.”

You weren’t in the head space to think about what he was saying. You just knew that yes, you were his. Your holes were his.

But Harry was making a point. He knew he didn’t need to but his jealousy and possessiveness got the best of him when he thought about the way Chris tried talking to you. And he saw the way the guy looked at you. Harry wasn’t dumb. He knows the look.

“Tell me pup,” Harry spoke his words in gasps as he moved in and out of your beautifully tight and warm pussy, “Who do you belong to?”

Your words came out in punched breaths, “You! Harry! I… only you!”

The way Harry was dipping in deep and fast felt so yummy. You loved how he felt when he was connected to you. You imagined that his cock inside of you was like some kind of Lego piece to your little Lego piece. As odd as that sounded – it made sense in your brain. Every time he was inside of you the pieces fit together so nicely and made something even better than they were before. Something bigger. Something complete.

“Fuck, pup! You’re so good. So fucking sweet and you’re all mine. Gonna breed you, baby. Want my babies, pup?”

Harry had been hinting a bit lately. More often than not lately. You didn’t know if it was a heat of the moment kind of thing or if he really wanted to knock you up. But you would happily be a mother to his children if he wanted. And while he was railing you deep with his big cock making you braindead you especially loved that idea.

“Yeah… uhghhh! Yes! Fuck!!” His pounding didn’t let up and the bed underneath only got louder as the springs danced under your back. The thud of Harry’s heavy balls to your skin was wet and you could feel them pressing into you each time he bottomed out.

“M’gonna make you a mommy. Fuck my come into your womb and no one can have you when they see you pregnant with my babies.”

You panted and felt sweat at your temple. Harry’s words were tight and grunted as he spoke between heavy thrusts.

“It’s so deep! Harry!!” It was deep. It felt especially sharp and achy with the way he was punishing your pussy with his cock. But you could handle it. You’d handled him going in harder many times.

Every plunge and smack of skin, the squeak of the mattress, and panted words and gasps only got louder as Harry neared his end. His moans were beautiful. You loved making him feel good like this. Loved when he came inside of you and orgasmed because your pussy felt so good. Because he loved you so much.

“Better feel your pussy squeezing around me again, pup. Come on, baby. Fucking come all over me,” Harry clenched his jaw as he spoke, holding himself back. He wanted one more from you. Selfishly he liked knowing he could make you come over and over again so you knew how good he could take care of you in the way no one else could. And also because he loved how you felt when your pussy spasmed around his cock as he came, the way you milked him and his balls drained into his cock and poured into your body as you shivered and pulsed around his throbbing dick.

Your ears began to ring as you started to come again. Harry’s thick tip was continuously poking into your little spot on the inside that made your toes curl and that did you in. The stretch and the deep thrusts into your soft aching little part on the inside had you shaking and shouting his name in orgasm.

Harry saw stars as he finally allowed himself to drain into you, fucking himself in as deep as possible so his come would stick and get in deep, his wide crown pushing it up into your guts. Your slick, hot walls wrung his cock out like a rag, making all of her sperm drip into you with each pulse and contraction from your little muscle. He was rendered silent as he felt himself being siphoned by you. His mouth hung open and he trembled over you, his arms barely holding himself up, his thighs quivering… he hadn’t realized he’d been so on edge. He was responding to your pussy the way you responded to his cock.

And of course, the rest of the night was sweet and soft. Harry helped you clean up and doted on you. You both lay together on the couch and watched TV as you faced Harry so you could watch him. You loved looking at him and rubbing your hands over his tattooed chest and upward to the scruff on his neck and face. You kissed his nipples and sighed to yourself about how lucky you felt as you fell asleep in his arms.

The next few days were all spent in the dizzying heat on the sand and splashing around in the ocean a little. The waves were strong so you didn’t go in too deep, at Harry’s urging, “Don’t want you to get hurt, pup. Stay close to the shallow parts.”

You visited a vineyard attached to a winery and bought a case of wine that you both loved to bring back home with you. And every night the sex was filled with lots of dirty talk of getting you knocked up and making you a mommy.

But last night, Harry had gone easy on you. He didn’t pound into you or make you sore all over like he often did. No spankings or hair pulling. He fucked you sweet and slow and kept his cock stuffed inside of you until he’d long softened in order to make it stick. Make the come stay inside and get you where he wanted you.

So that meant that today you were feeling extra spicy. A soft fucking sometimes meant you turned into a bit of a brat afterward or the following day. There was something in you that needed the brutal fuckings in order to keep you subdued.

You were on the towel and pulled your bikini top off as you laid flat on your tummy so you could get a tan on your back but Harry swatted your bottom as he hovered over you possessively, “What the fuck are you doing, pup? Want everyone to see your tits?”

You giggled and looked up at the man, “Just needed a nice tan. Don’t worry. You’re the only one that gets to see the front, Harry. Don’t be so boring.”

Harry scoffed. He was anything but boring and you knew it. But he knew the game you were playing.

He looked around and the beach was mostly empty. There were some people in the distance but no one would see what he was about to do.

“Boring?” He said as he yanked you up by your arm, your tits out. He pulled you into his lap and draped you across his thighs as he pulled your bikini bottoms down just enough that he could spank you hard.

You grinned as you yelped at each of his rough smacks and felt your backside burn from the sensitive skin of your bottom getting a beating. You kicked your legs and turned to look at Harry, “Hey! I don’t deser-“Your back talk was cut short when he issued you another spanking.

“You deserve exactly what I give you,” another strike to the exposed flesh of your ass, “Went too soft last night and now you’re acting like a little terror.”

You put your face into the crook of your arm as Harry continued punishing you right there on the beach with your tits bare against the towel, small granules of sand covering your damp skin.

When he felt you were finally somewhat mellowed he lifted you up and handed you your bikini top.

“Put this back on right now or we’re going back to the house.”

As if that were a punishment for you. He’d only gotten you even more worked up with the spankings and now your nipples were hard and your pussy was wet. You bit your lip and gave him a look of challenge but you put your bikini top on. Your ass couldn’t handle another swat. You were sure of it.

But now the problem was you couldn’t sit on your bottom at all over the towel and the small bits of sand were irritating your rear.

“I’ve got to go get into the water for just a bit. Come with me.” You stood up and gave Harry your sweetest puppy dog eyes.

Harry shook his head, “Gonna stay right here. You go on. But don’t go in too deep.”

As you walked away Harry became very aware of how red your ass and your thighs were. Your bikini bottoms covered the most severe markings but the parts that were exposed were very obviously red and spanked. He rolled his eyes, hoping no one saw what he had.

Once you got into the ocean and let the cool water soothe your bottom you turned to look back at Harry and waved at him and then stuck your tongue out. You didn’t know why you’d done it. You were just in a mood. You needed him to obliterate you since it was your last full day. Something about being on vacation and being in public with him really did something to you. Made you feel naughty and liberated all at once. You were having a really good time on your little getaway. It was just what you both had needed.

“Water’s great today!” You heard a familiar voice and turned your head to see Chris.

“It really is! The waves aren’t too crazy either. Haven’t really been able to get in too deep.”

Chris walked into the water toward you with a grin on his face, “Oh no? Are you not used to swimming in the ocean? There’s a technique you know.”

You shook your head, “No. Haven’t swum much in the ocean. The waves are so strong that they pull me under,” you laughed as you lowered your bottom half down to let the water submerge up to your rib cage.

“I could teach you. It’s not too difficult. Just some basic rules for when the waves are coming at you. It’ll make you safer in the water too.”

“Oh… well. Okay!” You looked out to where Harry was and realized he was lying flat on his back. He hadn’t even noticed that Chris was talking to you. You smiled to yourself just knowing that when he realized you were out here with him he’d probably come out into the water with you finally.

Chris gave you an example as a small wave came ashore jumping into it as it neared and explained how the timing was important. He held your hand to help you jump into the waves so you got the feel for how you should be moving into the water.

“Okay, now let’s do it a little more in the shallow so the waves feel stronger. You’ll see.”

You followed him closer toward the shore and you could feel the waves more intensely.

Suddenly Chris’s chattering stopped, “Are you… okay? Did you get dragged on your butt in the sand from the waves?” He seemed genuinely worried about the state of your bottom.

You laughed and nodded. Actually, that was a great excuse. You kind of wanted to tell him that your lover had just spanked you for being a brat but you were sure Harry would hate that, “Yes. Like I said. I am not a strong swimmer so I got taken down in the water to the sand on my butt.” You laughed.

Chris squinted and you realized he was inspecting your bottom a bit too closely when suddenly you heard Harry, both of you turning to see the tall man with broad shoulders stomping his way toward you. Uh oh.

“Let’s go. We need to get some lunch.” Harry fumed.

“Oh, but Chris is just showing me how to swim in the ocean properly. He’s just trying to help me stay safe.”

Harry did not like this one bit. He didn’t like that Chris had been ogling your backside with his red handprints all over, or that he was near you in the ocean at all. And that he was acting as if he was trying to protect you somehow. That was Harry’s job.

“Is he now? And what’s the best way to go about that, Chris?” Harry said as he began to slosh into the water nearing you until he was at your side in the water, “Because from what I just saw you were more so staring at her bottom. Is that how you show her to stay safe?”

Chris’s eyes got wide as he shook his head, “No! Of course not! She told me that she’d gotten taken down by a wave and that her butt hit the sand. I was just concerned because that’s really a lot,” he cleared his throat keeping his eyes on Harry.

“Your concern is noted. Now,” he looked back down at you, putting his hands at your shoulders and leading you out of the water, “Let’s get going before the waves take you down again, pup.”

You smiled and waved at Chris, “Bye! Thank you so much for trying to help keep me safe,” twisting the proverbial knife in just a bit more. You knew Harry would be fuming by the time you two got back into the house.

And he was. But fuming might have been an understatement. It was the first time Harry’d had to deal with such a thing with you.

When the door was locked, Harry kept his hands at your shoulders as he spoke into your ear with seething wrath, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why don’t you behave when I fuck you softly? Hmm? You need to be treated like a slutty brat when I fuck you don’t you? Need to be smacked around a little?”

Harry let go of you as he pushed you down to your knees and lowered his swim trunks just enough that his cock was out.

“Suck til I’m hard then I’m gonna treat you like you the way you seem to want.”

You nodded and smirked as you began working on his cock, spitting and licking and sucking all around him. He grew hard in your mouth and hands fast. His length was always a shock to you when you saw it up close. Harry’s dick was big. But that was part of what made you love having him fuck you. You loved being wrecked by him.

When you began to bob over him, spit covering his cock to his base he gathered your hair up and pushed you down on him, holding you in place with both hands, “Mouth needs bruised just like your bottom,” he groaned as he filled your tight throat, causing your eyes to water with your nose brushing into his pelvis.

You grabbed onto his thighs as he began to slowly roll his hips into you. He bit his lip and closed his eyes to just feel you. He didn’t want to give you the pleasure of hearing him moan.

The way he was fucking your mouth wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Though he normally was a bit more vocal you figured it was part of the punishment you knew you deserved. You gurgled and gagged around him as he continued stuffing himself into you and you knew to just take it.

When he pulled out you gasped and swallowed but then leaned forward to put him back in your mouth but he only pulled your hair harder to keep your lips off of him. He pulled you up by your hair and then pushed you against the couch, so you were bent over the arm with your red bottom facing up.

The sudden movements were unexpected but the moment he buried himself into your pussy, splitting you in half you sighed and cooed at him, “Fuck me. God yes!”

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. You were incorrigible. Impossible to correct at times. But fuck if he didn’t love you and the way you took him.

He gave you no mercy as he began railing you deep, the couch being pushed the slightest and banging into the wall, “You don’t get to come. You’re only here to hold my sperm and take your punishment. Maybe then you’ll turn into a good girl.”

His hand held you down by the back of your head into the cushion as he continued bucking into your pussy, reaching deep into your tummy. The delicious sound of wet cunt being fucked and stuffed repeatedly had your head spinning. You could record the sound of yourself getting railed and get off on that alone.

Harry pushed his fingers into your hair to grip harder and put his other hand at your low back to keep you down as you kept arching your back and trying to push yourself onto him harder. You wanted it harder.

Harry finally let out a choked groan as he felt you clench hard and watched his cock fuck into you. He would never grow tired of fucking your little pussy and watching your soft skin turn red from his fingers and spankings. Your face was smushed into the couch but he could see your mouth was wide open and your eyes were shut. He loved that you loved it.

Suddenly he lifted you up by your hair so he could speak filth into your ear, “Little slutty wet hole all f’me. Puppy wants my come and my cock all the fucking time. Isn’t that right?”

You tried nodding but his grip was tight as his chest was pressed into your back, his hips rolling into you in punishing thrusts.

“Gonna come inside of your cunt and over and over again until we leave tomorrow. Teach you a lesson about being needy and slutty. Always soaked for me and begging to be stuffed full,” his words came out in gasps and you could tell he was about to come.

You sighed and licked your lips as you let him use you for his pleasure, happy to take whatever he gave you.

When his grip tightened harshly at your hair and his wet lips licked your ear he moaned and jerked his hips into you, his balls pressed against you tightly as he throbbed and pumped his come into your tummy.

He breathed hard and pulled his other arm around your middle as he held you close to his chest, filling you to the brim with his sperm.

You hissed when his cock reached into you so deep and he kept himself submerged in that achy spot, never letting up pushing into you. It felt as if he was going to tear your pussy in two for a moment.

As he came down, his harsh grip on your hair and around your middle loosened as he lowered you back to the couch and finally pulled himself out.

You lay quietly and sweetly as you caught your breath. You hadn’t come, of course, but you were certainly feeling the flow of endorphins from making Harry come.

And just like always, he tenderly helped you clean up, kissed you, and spoke to you as if you were the best thing he’d ever had, “Took it like a good girl. Such a soft little pussy, but even better is that I get you and your pretty eyes and these beautiful lips. What would I do without you? Huh?”

“I love you, Harry.”

Harry grinned as he smoothed his hands over your naked body, “I know pup. I love you too.”

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[one-idea]

Shanks raise ASL part 9

First - Previous

Luffy made his way to Makino’s bar. It’s was late enough in the morning that the villagers were milling around. When Luffy made it to Party Bar he was almost surprised to not see any members of the Red Hair Pirates in there drinking yet.

“Luffy! What are you doing here so early?” Makino greeted the little boy when she saw him walk in. She was surprised to see Luffy but it wasn’t a bad thing. She was more surprised that he was here without either of his brothers or Shanks with him.

“Morning Makino! Me, Ace, and Sabo went hunting this morning! We wanted to catch something for Shanks and the crew. Did you know we’re going with him!” Luffy told her all about his morning and his plan, full of excitement for the future. He did so without any thought to how Makino would react to him leaving with a group of violent pirates.

Makino to her credit wasn’t to surprised or concerned. While she wished Luffy would wait until he was older to leave, she always knew he and his brothers were too big for their sleepy island. And she knew Shanks would protect the boys with his life, no questions asked, the boys would be as safe on the sea as they could be. Garp won’t agree but he had lost this argument long ago, these three boys were made to be pirates, not marines.

Just then the door to the bar was violently thrown open. A group of rough men walking into the bar. Makino recognized their leader almost immediately.

It was Higuma. He led a rival mountain bandit crew to Dadan’s and he was not fond of Curly Dadan or her family. He also had a hatred for Shanks after the last time the red haired pirate was in town and drank the Party Bar dry. He hadn’t been back since and Makino had hopped it would stay that way.

“I heard those weak pirates are back in town.” Higuma stated as soon as he walked into the bar his men spreading out. “I thought we’d pay them a visit but it seems the weaklings aren’t here yet. All the better I’d hate to kill the red head in here and dirty your floors when he’s not alive to clean them up.”

Makino had moved to try and put herself between the man and Luffy as soon as he entered but she wasn’t quick enough.

“Shanks isn’t weak!” The little seven year old bellowed, drawling the bandit’s eyes right to him. “Don’t you dare mock him and his crew. He could kill you without even trying”

“Oh I remember you, you’re the little brat who hangs around with the pirates.” Higuma stated as he moved closer to the little boy.

“Hey boss, I think I’ve seen him running around with Dadan’s brat as well.” Called out one of the bandits. Makino cursed the man in her mind.

“Curly Dadan huh, well looks like we’ll kill two birds with one stone.” The man said before he back handed Luffy across the face.

“Luffy.” Makino cried out running to the little boy.

“Trash the place boys!” Higuma called out to his men. They cheered and started flipping the tables and breaking the stools.

Makino looked at the destruction occurring and quickly grabbed Luffy. “Luffy lets go.” There was no way they could stop these men.

“No Makino! They can’t do this!” Luffy struggled against her as she tried to get him out of the bar. Higuma saw them trying to escape and blocked their path.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” He asked as he reached for Makino. With a scream Luffy launched himself at the bandit.

“Go get help Makino.” He called as he knocked the bandit over. Makino hated this. Hated the idea of leaving Luffy with these men, but she couldn’t fight them. If she stayed then no one would come to help them. So she ran. Ran as fast as she could to Woop Slap.

Higuma quickly threw Luffy off of him. The little boy landed roughly, groaning as he bounced off the ground. Luffy started to push himself up but wasn’t quick enough to avoid the kick Higuma aimed at his stomach. Yet to Higuma and the bandits’ shock instead of the boy being sent flying by the kick, his body streched with the impact.

“What the?” Higuma cried as Luffy’s body snapped back to normal. He reached down and grabbed Luffy’s cheek stretching it out and letting it snap back into place. “Devil fruit.” He whispered in awe.

“Hey boss we could get a lot of money from selling this kid.” Called out one of the bandits.

“Ya I heard some Celestial Dragons were going to be visiting the island soon. Maybe they’d buy him. I heard they love exotic things.” Another tacked on.

Higuma smirked as he bent down and grabbed Luffy by the neck, picking the struggling boy up. “That’s not a bad idea.” He said as he started to lead the bandits out of the bar.

Luffy tried to struggle out of his grip but nothing was working, so he did the only thing he could think of. He spat at Higuma. The man paused wiping the spit from his face, huffing out a breath of a chuckle. Before he slammed Luffy into the ground. The little boy cried out at the impact. He started to push himself up when Higuma stepped in the boy’s head.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Luffy shouted at the bandit.

“You need to watch yourself kid, no one who’s made me mad has lived to tell the horrifying tale.” Higuma said as he reached for his sword.

“Wait stop!” Woop Slap yelled as he and Makino arrived on the scene. “I don’t know what he’s done and I don’t intended to fight you over it. If you accept I’ll even pay you for it but please just spare the poor boy’s life.”

“Mayor!” Luffy called out intent on telling the old man to stop.

“Sorry but this rotten boy’s already made me angry.” Higuma said as he drew his sword.

“You’re the rotten one!” Luffy yell back. Never standing down from a fight.

“And your a lost cause which you can regret in the next life.” Higuma said placing his sword at Luffy’s neck. Both Makino and Woop Slap begged him to stop. But everything stopped when they heard a voice behind them.

“I was wondering why the bar was empty on such a fine day.” While his tone was light and jovial his eyes were hard, trained on Higuma and Luffy. He learned a long time ago to act as though nothing bothered him so that his enemies couldn’t see his weak points, but with a sword at Luffy’s throat it was hard to remember that. “So it’s the mountain bandits again.”

Shanks had been tracking the boy’s haki all morning. He’d noticed when Luffy separated from his brothers, when he crossed paths with Mihawk, and when he ran into the bar. He had also noticed when the multiple dull presences entered the bar after his son had. He didn’t hesitate to get the crew together and head over there. Something was wrong. He knew it. If he was right, hopefully they would get to Luffy in time, and if he was wrong well, drinks on him.

But he wasn’t wrong. This lowlife was back, but this time he had attacked Luffy. He and his men wouldn’t live to see the sunset.

“Shanks.” He heard Luffy gasp out from around the man’s shoe. His fist tightened at the sound wanting to remove this man from his son as quickly as possible. But this was delicate as Luffy was too close to the man. They would have to be careful.

“Pirates, just now showing your heads? Have you spent all this time scrubbing the village?” Higuma taunted but Shanks ignored him. He wasn’t going to rise to a weak man’s bait, especially when said man had a sword tip so close to his son’s neck.

Instead he focused on Luffy. “Luffy didn’t you say earlier that your punches were stronger than pistols?” He made the question light. Luffy’s response would allow him to gauge how hurt his boy was. If Luffy didn’t respond or only grunted then his boy was desperately injured and they’d have to act fast.

“Shut your mouth.” Luffy responded with his regular fire. Good he wasn’t hurt to badly then. Shanks was still going to kill all of these bandits for even trying to hurt him.

Shanks start to calmly walk towards Higuma and Luffy. “Listen I don’t know what you’re doing here but you might want to leave.” Higuma obviously didn’t know who Luffy was to Shanks. Good that would make this far easier if he thought this was a stupid pirate butting in and not a father protecting his son. “You wouldn’t want something bad to happen.” The threat was empty. Shanks could tell, as Higuma’s sword hadn’t moved any closer to Luffy. “And I I have just the man to deliver the message.” Higuma finished his threat as one of his men swung his pistol to be level with Shanks’s head.

Oh. He was trying to threaten Shanks. He was dumber than he looked. But Shanks stopped moving forward with the gun pointed at his head. He wasn’t worried. He was making a point.

“I’ll blow your head off if I have to, but that’s up to you my friend.” The bandit taunted and the men around them laughed. Just as Shanks excepted, all talk. He wondered how many weaker souls had fallen for this bluff. He could see the confident smirk on Higuma’s face and the fear in Luffy’s. This was Luffy’s first time seeing Shanks and his crew in a fight. He understood the boy’s worry, but it was misplaced. After today Luffy would know not to worry in situations like this, would understand men like this were not a threat. Yet a part of Shanks mourned the innocence Luffy was about to lose.

“Would you risk your life?” Shanks asked not looking at the man, but hearing his noise of disbelief. “Now that you’ve drawn your pistol are you willing to use it?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The man asked in shock. Shanks finally turned to look at the man, his face would be the last this man ever saw. He could see Lucky Roux starting to move.

“I’m saying guns aren’t for threats they’re for actions.” And with that statement, Lucky’s gun went off. The bandit dropping dead.

Shanks kept his head down, silently hoping Luffy could forgive him one day for introducing this violence to him. He knew Luffy had fought before, had rescued him and his brothers from the Bluejam pirates, but killing someone so coldly was different. It was a violence that would have touched his son eventually as they traveled out to sea, but to have it happen in Luffy’s home village felt wrong.

He could hear Makino and Woop Slap’s horrified gasps and Luffy’s shocked breath, but he couldn’t focus on them now.

“You! You’re a dead man!” Cried one of the bandits.

“These guys fight dirty.” Called another.

Shanks could feel his crew moving closer around him, offering strength, if you fought one Red Haired Pirate you fought them all.

“Dirty?” Yasopp asked almost sounding confused and affronted by the word.

“Who did you think you were dealing with?” Benn asked, picking up were Yasopp left off. “We didn’t claim to be saints or anything.” His statement meant for the shocked towns people as much as it was for the bandits.

“You fellows are staring down a crew of pirates.” Shanks said taking in the fear from the men in front of him.

“Shut up!” One called. “We just want the boy not you.” That was the stupidest thing he could have said to Shanks. As if Shanks would ever let them hurt his boy.

“Listen up bandits.” He somehow managed to keep his rage out of his voice, keeping it calm and collected the whole time. “Whether I’m sprayed with alcohol, doused with booze, hell even if I’m spit on, most of the time I’ll just laugh it off and forget about it.” His head snapped up to look Higuma dead in the eye. His voice finally darkening. “But if you hurt a friend of mine, you’ll pay for it regardless of your reason.” It was a true statement, Shanks would set an island a blaze for any of his friends, but for his sons, he’d burn the world.

And this man was still. Touching. His. Kid.

Higuma just laughed. “So we’re going to pay? Lousy pirates kill them all men!” He ordered as all the bandits screamed and rushed forward.

Shanks didn’t move as Benn step forward on his right, his hand already on his gun. “I’ll take care of this. Shouldn’t be a big deal.” Benn didn’t want his captain wasting his time on these lowlifes. Plus they had hurt his nephew, he wasn’t letting them leave here breathing. He drew his gun, his movements were faster than these men could track, lining up his shot and firing. The bandits hadn’t realized one of their own had dropped before his next shot was fired. He decimated the whole gang in under a minute, lining his gun up with Higuma’s head. “You shouldn’t get to cocky. If you really wanted to fight us, looks like a battleship or something bigger would have been more useful.”

The man stood there in fear and shock but Shanks ignored him, his eyes tracking to his son’s slack faces. He was ready for there to be fear in his son’s eyes but instead Luffy was looking at Benn in awe. A quiet “Wow.” Leaving his lips.

Higuma panicked, finally removing his foot from Luffy’s face. “Hold on it was the kid who attacked us.” He cried out.

Shanks wasn’t about to let an adult blame a child for their actions. “I thought you were a wanted man.” This man was dying today.

Higuma, realizing there was nothing he could say to save himself, let out a cry and threw something on the ground. The thing exploded and for a heart stopping second Shanks worried the man decided to blow himself and Luffy up rather than fight them. But then the smoke started billowing out at them at a rapid rate.

“A smoke screen.” He growled. What a coward. When then the smoke cleared Higuma was there, but that was expected. What wasn’t expected was that Luffy was gone to. “Luffy?” Skanks called shocked that his son wasn’t where he last saw him. For a second he hoped the boy would pop out, maybe he ran away from the smoke.

But when that didn’t happen ice filled Shanks veins again. His hand flew to the sides of this head as he yelled out, “Oh no I let that guy take him!” He quickly turned around to face his crew in his panic. One of them had to know what to do. “What are we going to do?!” He screamed looking at Lucky Roux.

“Boss calm down! Stop freaking out we’ll find him in no time.” Lucky Roux tried to reassure him. They all knew just how important Luffy was to Shanks. They also adored the little anchor themselves. They’d spread out and search the whole island for the boy if they had to. Higuma wasn’t getting away from them, and he certainly wasn’t going to take Luffy from them.

The Red Hair Pirates took off to search the town. All eager to be the one to find Higuma and put an end to the man who thought he could take Luffy from them.

Shanks was about to run off as well when Benn grabbed his arm. “Captain I know your worried but,”

“No Benn! I can’t wait I need to find Luffy now!” Shanks head was consumed by worry for his son. He couldn’t believe his first mate would be the one to slow him down.

“And is there anything you can do that might help you find him faster?” Benn said giving his captain a pointed look. It took Shanks a second to understand what his first mate was getting at. Oh, his observation Haki. In his panic he almost forgot. He sent out a wave looking for his boy.

There. He could feel Luffy being taken away from the village, but he wasn’t heading in land. No he was heading out to sea.

“I found them. Come on Benn.” Shanks called as he took off running.

“Right behind you Captain.” Been called as he chased after the younger man.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #portagas d. ace #fire fist ace #one piece ace #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #asl trio #asl brothers #mishanks #dracule mihawk #shanks is such a dad #shanks is luffy’s dad okay. #shanks #I’m sorry this took so long I had to go back and rewatch episode 4 #it’s coming the sea king is coming #next time we will check in with Ace Sabo and Mihawk. and we will see what happens to shanks and Luffy

[rapz-rites]

Demon Spawns

Damian Wayne x Powered!Fem!Reader

When your’s and Damians future kids come to the present

A/N: Inspired by @cipheress-to-k-pop version of this. Please give me some feedback, it’s always appreciated :3

Word Count: 2500+

Warnings: mentions of a miscarriage, was lightly proofread and revised

Future

-Honestly, it’s not Mar’i’s fault

-You needed someone to watch the twins as you and damian had to go away on a business trip for a few dayside hours hours and I

-Mar’i eagerly accepted

-Yes, she knew she wasn’t supposed to bring the twins to the cave but she didn’t think this would happen

-The worst she expected was that they broke on of Tim’s gadgets

-She didn’t expect them to accidentally send themselves to the future

-You were going to kill her

-Mar’i did the only thing she could think of at the moment, call her best friend, White Rabbit, aka Lian Harper, to help her get them back

Present

- You and Damian had been dating for a year already

-You really loved him

-After 3 years of knowing him and 2 months of dating, it was only a matter of time until you both found out about each other

-Damian being Robin didn’t entirely surprise you, it just made a lot of sense

-The constant disappearing, the odd phone calls, the weird excuses

-At least he wasn’t cheating (Damian would NEVER cheat)

-Growing up adopted you never knew your birth parents, just that they had to have been metas because you have powers

-You had powers like Kori and more, you even kind of looked like her

-People joked that you could have been her daughter before she came to Earth

-Those jokes make her uncomfortable

-You thought everything about her was interesting: she’s heir to the thrown on Tamaran, her sister sold her, she’s been married 4 other times, and even the fact that she 9 stomachs

-Today was a normal day at the Manor

-Everyone was just chilling in the BatCave

-Bruce and Tim were working on a case on the BatComputer

-To you, everything in the BatCave started with a ‘Bat’

-BatKeys

-BatSeat

-Your secret name for Alfred was Batler (Bat + Butler )

-Dick and Kori we flirting talking by the weapons

-And you were watching Damian train with Jason

-Watching Damian train was one of your favorite pastimes whenever you were in the cave

-Suddenly a bright light purple light flashed in the middle of the cave, right between Damian and Jason as they were jumping to attack each other,

-The light startled them, causing then the jump back

-All the heroes prepared themselves in a fighting stance

-Next thing everyone knew, two small babies, a girl and boy, were in the middle of the cave

-They looked like they could be twins, but you couldn’t say for certain from where you were standing

- Everyone was surprised, two random babies just appeared out of nowhere

-“Aye, Big Bat. Bet you don’t have a protocol for this, do ya?” Jason says trying to break the silence

-The two babies looked around confused

-They couldn’t be older than a 9 months

-Last they checked they were with Mar’i in the BatCave, now they were in the BatCave with strangers they didn’t recognize

-BOOM, waterworks

-“I’ll go and get Alfred” Tim said dashing up the stairs

-Everyone knew he was probably the least qualified to deal with children, mainly because he’s always sleep deprived

-Naturally the two most recent parents went and scooped one up

-“How did they get here?” Dick asked rocking the girl in his arms

-They both calmed down a bit looking at the person holding them and back at each other and back at the adult

-They stopped crying, but were still fussing

-“While they’re like this let’s get saliva for a DNA test to find out who their parents are”

-Bruce took two swabs and collected saliva from each of the babies

-After, Dick and Kori passed the babies around to see if anyone could calm them down

-It wasn’t until Bruce handed you the little boy that he stopped crying, cooing in your arms and little hands reaching for your face

-Jason stopped, looked at Damian, and questioned if it would be the best idea to hand a baby to him

-“Is handing Damian a crying baby the best idea?”

-“Probably not, but it’s the only idea we have” Dick responded

-Handing the baby girl to Damian, she looked at him and stopped fussing, smiling at the face in front of her

-“Never thought I’d see the day” Jason chuckled

-“What do you think their names are?” Kori asked gaining everyone’s attention

-“How about we get in a circle, go in a circle calling out random names and see who they go to” you spoke

-Everyone nodded and hummed in agreement

-You and Damian placed the babies on the floor jointing everyone else in the circle

-Before you could call the first name, a voice interrupted you

-“After this game, I believe you will be needed these”

-The voice belonging to none other than Alfred said

-Tim decided to join the circle at that point

-“Thank you” you called out

-Alfred gave you a small smile and nod before heading up the stairs

-You all started with your little game ‘Name the Babe’

-“Makayla”

-“Isaiah”

-“Nick”

-“Elizabeth”

-After 5 minutes of calling names and receiving no reaction from the babies, a ding

-It was from the BatComputer, signaling the results from the DNA test

-Dick and Kori

-Bruce opened the test and everyone had a face mixed with shock and confusion

-Under ‘FATHER’ was a picture of Damian

-”The Demon spawn had a spawn.”

-Under ‘MOTHER’ was a question mark and underneath it was ‘match not found’

-You turned to Damian with a look a shock, confusion, and… betrayal and one that said ‘please don’t tell me you cheated on me’

-Damian took a step towards you, and you took a step back

-You rushed up the stairs heading into the manor

-Damian rushed after you

-“This makes no sense. Damian has only ever been with anyone other than YN and Raven”

-“And he’s not the type for random hookups”

-Bruce checked the database and noticed he didn’t have yours or Ravens DNA in the system

-“Kori contact Raven and have her come to the BatCave”

-“Bart!” Tim shouted

-“What? Haven’t you been paying attention, Damian is the father not Bart” Jason retorted

-“I know that! But Bart’s from the future. Who says the babies can’t be too?”

-Back in the manor, Damian was looking all over for you

-Your car was still parked in front, so you were somewhere in the manor

-Fifteen minutes later Damian found you on his bed, facing the window, looking at the garden

-You’ve always loved how Damian’s room faced the garden

-He slowly walks towards you until he’s also on the bed

-“Beloved-”

-“I was pregnant”

-“What? When?”

-“Four months ago. I lost the baby early on, I didn’t even know until I went to the ER. I thought it was food poisoning from that Thai place I went to with Steph and Cass, but they told me I had a miscarriage. I was 3 weeks”

-“Why didn’t you tell me?”

-“I didn’t know how and I was somewhat relieved. I always told myself I’d wait until I was married to have kids. Also we can’t raise a kid now Dami. We’re only 21 and you work in a dangerous field.”

-You put your foreheads together, caressing his cheek with your hand

-Damian just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down, forcing you to lay with him and you accepted his embrace

-“Todd messaged me”

-“What did he say”

-“Tim come to the conclusion that the babies most likely came from the future and father doesn’t have yours or Raven’s DNA is the system, Raven is on her way so they can run the test again”

-“And if they’re not mine”

-“Let’s not worry about that right now”

-After an hour of silence and Damian just holding you, you both make your way back to the BatCave hand in hand

-Raven, and even some League members, are now there too

-“Can I see the little ones” Diana asked with a smile on her face

-She has always had a soft spot for children

-“Careful. She just ate” Kori informed her, handing Baby Girl over

-While you and Damian were gone, Tim made the executive decision to call them Baby Girl and Baby Boy until the mother was determined

-“Awww, so precious”

-The Themyscrian rocking the small baby in her arms

-Baby Girl soon became fussy, most likely from Diana’s cuffs

-Diana handed the baby off to Raven

-It made sense

-We were here to see if you or Raven would be their mother (yk that motherly connection)

-Once Baby Girl was in Ravens arms she quickly calmed down, almost as quickly as she did with Damian

-You didn’t show it, but you felt a pang in your heart

-Damian just squeezed your hand lightly but you couldn’t take your eyes off Raven and Baby Girl

-Bruce spoke up, breaking you out of your trance

-“I need both of you to get a good saliva swab”

-You and Raven both did as told

-“Here. My arms are getting numb” Dick says handing Baby Boy to you

-You smile at the tiny human in your arms

-After 10 of waiting, a BatComputer dinged

-Bruce went to open the results

-Damian standing right behind him, and you and Raven on each side of him

-On the screen where a picture of the babies

-When did they take that picture?

-The babies were at the bottom middle and above them was the same picture of Damian as earlier and under ‘MOTHER’ was a picture of…

-You

-WAIT! How did they get that picture?

-You were too happy to question that

-“Happy to say that Baby Girl and Baby Boy are Y/N’s and Damian’s ”

-“Thank Azarath”

-You laughed at Raven, she pulls you into a hug

-“These babies are so adorable but I don’t think I’m cut out to be a mother. I’ll gladly babysit though”

-“Wait. You guys have been calling them Baby Girl and Baby Boy?”

-No one other than Wally West would ask that question

-“Come one. You can think of something better to call them”

-Before you could say something, Damian stepped in

-“Actually we already know their names”

-You smiled

-You handed Baby Boy to Damian

-“This is Soren Jackson Wayne”

-“Jackson after Drake”

-You walked over to Raven, who was holding a sleeping Baby Girl, and picked her up

-“And my gorgeous daughter. You are Jaylena Mariah Wayne. Jaylena inspired after Jason but means blue crested bird aka Nightwing. For that time you both saved me”

-You and Damian make eye contact not breaking it even when the others spoke

-Dick and Jason both smiled

-Jason punched Roy’s side

-”See that. Demon spawn named his spawn after me”

-“Don’t worry father we plan on naming the next ones after your mother and father”

-You looked away quickly,

-Bruce had a shocked look on his face

-“There’s going to be more?!”

-Jason could already see it: A demon army

-Suddenly another bright light flashed in the middle of the BatCave

-Everyone but you and Damian had a fight stance ready

-Bruce and Dick stood in front of you and Damian

-Two people now stood in the middle of the BatCave, they looked like vigilantes

-One was dressed in all white, with a matching white masked with bunny ears falling along her wavy ginger hair

-The other, well anyone could tell who she was

-Mar’i Grayson

-“Hi mom. Hi daddy”

-The girl in all white removed her mask as she walked towards Roy giving him a big hug

-“Hi dad”

-It was obvious to say that Dick, Kori, and Roy were baffled

-It wasn’t even a few hours ago they saw their daughters in the care of Barry and Iris, playing along with the other superhero kids

-Now they were teenagers, vigilantes at that too

-Mar’I was walking towards you with a pleading look

-“Sis”

-Sis?

-Mar’I never called you sis

-She always called you this funny tamaranean name she heard from Kori, it’s supposed to be a pretty flower but dangerous or something

-“I am so so so so so sorryyyyy. I know you told me not to bring them to the BatCave by myself but it was only for a minute to get something. I didn’t think they would get sent to the past. I put Sor and Lena down for a second then boom they’re gone. Please don’t kill me”

-She turns to Kori and Dick

-“Please don’t ground me”

-You step towards her

-“I can tell you didn’t want this to happen and I know my future self will probably get on you for this. So just please, please get my babies home safely”

-Mar’i nodded eagerly as you handed her Jaylena

-“I promise. I really don't want to be on the LoA’s bad side” she chuckles

-Damian looked slightly confused at the remark

-He gave Soren to Lian, staring her down with a look that says ‘drop or hurt my son, I’ll hurt you’

-“Daaaaddd”

-“Stop scaring my daughter Damian”

-“Tt”

-“Anyways… Congrats on your…nevermind” Mar’i stops when she noticed your promise ring that Damian gave you

-Soren looks at Mar’i, reaching for her but found it no use when Lian wouldn’t let him

-He looked upset

-As he started fussing a blue power orb slowly started to form about a foot above him

-Thinking of only your kids safety, you quickly absorbed the energy

-“Our kids have powers?” Damian asked in shock

-Naturally you were in shock too

-You barely knew the full extent of your powers compared to other metas your age, and now at least one of your kids will have them too

-“At the moment only Soren does. He uhm… does that sometimes. So far it only happens when he’s mad or extremely fussy.”

-Lian’s watch starts beeping

-Before she can even open her mouth Mar’i talks

-“We really have to go now”

-Damian walks up next to you, placing a hand on your waist

-“Bye Uncle D. Bye bye sis”

-Again with the sis?

-You and Damian give a small wave goodbye

-Just like that, with a flash, they’re gone

-Everyone goes their respective ways

-Tears start to well in your eyes when it’s just you and Damian in the BatCave

-“Let’s go to bed, Beloved. It’s been a long day”

-You follow him to his room and you both go to sleep

-That night you dream about your future with Damian, Jaylena, and Soren

Back to the Future(hehehe see what i did there)

-“Great! They’re still sleeping. We can get them to bed before Y/N and Damian get home”

-Mar’i was ready for this day to be over

-She knew she would get hell from you and Damian for what happened

-“Oh. We’re home. What happened?”

-Hearing your voice, Lian took that as her que to hand Soren over to Damian and hop out

-Mar’i turns around to see you and Damian dropped head to toe in LoA attire

-“Uncle D. Sis. Back already?”

-Damian walks over to Mar’i also taking Jaylena in his arms

-He walks over to you, with both twins in his arms, placing a kiss on your temple

-“I’ll put them to bed while you deal with Mar’i”

-With that Damián walks up the stairs into the manor

-“Before you blow a fuse, I know I shouldn’t have brought the twins to the Cave but I had no choice. I couldn’t leave them upstairs by themselves. As soon as they flashed to the past I immediately got help to go get them. And I almost ruined your proposal surprise but i didn’t so that’s something. I promise this will never ever EVER happen again”

-“Go home”

-“What?”

-“Go home. It’s late and we’re all tired. We’ll talk tomorrow”

-“Oh ok”

-You retire to yours and Damian’s shared bedroom as Mar’i leaves

-“What did you tell her”

-“To go home and we’ll talk tomorrow. You know she almost ruined your proposal”

-“Not surprised”

-You slip into bed, cuddling up next to Damian, head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around your waist

-You bring your left hand up admiring your engagement and wedding rings

-“It was a great proposal”

-“Damn right it was”

-You chuckled

-You look up at a sleeping Damian, admiring the man he grew to be

-Physically he’s always been attractive, but he grew mentally and emotionally

-He wasn’t the same boy who entered the manor when he was 10, emotionally and mentally detached from everyone, doors and windows shut to everyone, stubborn as a mule

- Actually, Damian will always be stubborn

- You both grew to care deeply for each other

… after writing for about 15-20 minutes I decided I wanted to make a part 2 but of the proposal…😚

I kinda want to make another version, the kid is like a teen. Should I???

Should I write why Mar’i called the reader ‘sis’?? Wouldnt y’all like to know? Do you have any ideas?

#damian wayne x reader #batfam x reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #koriand'r #starfire #lian harper #roy harper #mari grayson #diana prince #wally west

[bengiyo]

Love for Love's Sake Ep 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last time, the game world began falling apart around Myungha as he refused to choose between his grandmother or Yeowoon dying. With only 15 days left, Myungha began to pull back from Yeowoon, even as he tried to bulk up his relationships with his friends. Myungha received an item to change any part of the story, but could not change himself to admit to Yeowoon directly that he loved him. Despite Yeowoon asking all the right questions directly, Myungha couldn’t say what needed to be said, and chose to break up. We left with Myungha falling into the abyss as the world unwound before him.

Did Myungha erase himself from Yeowoon’s memory? I’m glad his friendships are intact, but it seems like he’s experiencing echoes of Myungha.

Episode 8: Answers

Wait, why does the brand lady remember Tae Myungha?

Oh, this is upsetting. Only the brand lady and Yeowoon remember Myungha. Even his grandmother doesn’t remember.

He wrote “Please make Cha Yeowoon happy” and then he vanished. I get his panic now.

Wait, is Cha Yeowoon a PC now?

Wait, was the brand owner Myungha’s ex in the main world?

Oh no…. Tae Myungha went to see his mom before and she had started a new family and refused to see him.

I approve of the letterboxing to let us know we’re seeing the history from the physical world.

This is putting me in my Sea, Swallow Me and Other Stories by Craig Laurance Gidney feelings.

Wow. I have a lot of thoughts about this writer creating a story because he loved his friend he missed so much that he wanted to give him a second life in a game where you help him see that he is loved and that he can choose to live. “Write me a poem to make me happy.”

ARE THEY IN DIFFERENT REALITIES? WHAT THE HELL??

He’s going to find his favorite person!!! 😭

Oh, romance, never stop hitting me with lens flares to show that the love is bursting.

Yes, let’s continue those kissing lessons.

Whoa, he’s wearing pink now.

Okay, seeing them make out by the sea and then play in it with their friends after that reveal about Myungha just sent me over the edge.

Final Verdict: 9, Highly Recommended. This final episode went to some really dark places, but this is the kind of queer media that I secretly love the most. I’ve written about how grief is a big part of my experience before, and how much Eternal Yesterday helped me cope with feelings that had been in me for 15 years. I think there’s something beautiful in the melancholy of the writer who is grieving their friend in their work. The thing about the fact that everyone dies, is that those who loved us will remember us and they will miss us. A version of us continues to live on in them. When we lose someone tragically, there is a need to process those feelings, and I appreciate the desire of a writer to immortalize their friend in a story where they recognize and receive the love they wished for in life.

I love that there’s a component of death of the author here, where Myungha wants to know who he is and why he wrote things like this, because I wonder if the writer infused some of the writings Myungha gave in life since we recognized Myungha’s handwriting in the missions. He’s trying to give Myungha what he wrote that he wanted and what he wrote about love. I love that we don’t exactly what the creator’s relationship is with Myungha, but the gay in me calls to the gay in him and says that he loved his junior in Myungha the way Myungha maybe connected to in Yeowoon. I like to think that he wrote Cha Yeowoon based on how he saw Myungha, and a part of him wanted to see Myungha happy. Perhaps he felt he couldn’t give that to Myungha in life for various reasons.

I loved the game mechanics so much. I loved the side quests. I loved it because it didn’t work all the time. I know I link Shane Koyczan a lot when I’m being especially emo around here, but it’s like his poem Stop Signs where he’s desperate to connect with his crush and he’s trying everything he can think of to reach them. What it does force to recognize is what’s important. All the running around and trying to get all of these things is about taking care of the person he likes. Earning the money forced him to work at something without just receiving it from someone else. Getting Yeowoon friends made both of their lives better, and they found the other gays! I loved the debuff mechanic because it makes you pay attention to the world around them and approach situations with caution.

This show was beautiful. I haven’t seen an It Gets Better project that hit the right way for me in so long. I like that this show kinda snuck up on us with the darkness. There have been so many high profile celebrity deaths in Korea in the last few years, and there’s gotta be so many more of regular people that we don’t even know. I really love that this story is about loving lonely boys and asks the audience not to give up. I love the notion that loving someone else is a pathway to learning to love yourself. You can love for the sake of love itself. This show surprised the hell out of me, but this is going to be one of the shows I think sticks with me from this year.

#Ben watches #love for love's sake #love supremacy zone #korean bl #bl series

[devildom-moss]

Roses for You (9)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Nine Roses - Barbatos

Word Count: +1,500 (sorry. I think my bias is showing.)

Eternal love

“Hey, Barbatos, why did you want to see me today?” You stood at the door to the Demon Lord’s castle.

Barbatos chuckled and stepped aside to allow you in. “What would you say if I told you I simply wanted to see you?”

“I’d say, ‘I’m glad you invited me because I missed you, too.’”

You missed the brief widening of his smile. He was delighted by your response, but the thought of someone walking into the foyer and seeing him practically fawning over you caused him to suppress that joy.

“Actually,” Barbatos started with a hint of something between hesitation and musing. “I was finishing up a task that I believe you might enjoy. Would you like to try your hand at making a flower arrangement?”

“I don’t know if I’d be any good at it, but it sounds fun.”

“Excellent. Come with me to the garden.” Barbatos turned, hiding the sudden appearance of a grin, and led the way. Perfect, he thought. It was no coincidence that you “caught him” in the middle of this particular task. He had worked hard to complete his necessary duties ahead of time so that he could spend the entire afternoon with you. This last task had been postponed until you were on your way with the hope that it would spark your interest – with the expectation that his plan would come to fruition. “I have a table set up in the garden where I was previously making arrangements. The flowers around the castle required refreshing. Although, as you can see, I’ve already completed a few.”

There was a vase slightly ahead of you on a table in the hall. You recognized the purple basil and black calla lilies, but there was something else in the arrangement – some alien- or Devildom-looking plant. It was a large dark reddish-brown, almost black, with petals that resembled wings – some pointed, demonic version of an orchid. Even stranger were the long, whisker-like tendrils that jutted out from the center. You’d never seen anything like it. “What type of flower is that?”

“I take it you mean the black bat flower?” Barbatos hummed and stopped in front of the vase.

“Is it native to the Devildom? It’s incredible. I half-expected it to growl at me as we walked by.”

“No, my dear,” Barbatos chuckled. “This plant is from the human world, but it tolerates Devildom conditions quite well; in fact, it flourishes here – much like yourself. I’ve heard about your recent interest in flower meanings, would you happen to have learned about any of these?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s the same for purple basil, but basil is usually a symbol of love, right?”

“It is now, although I’ve read that it once symbolized hatred. It was said to drive men insane. What an interesting turn of events. Both the calla lilies and the bat flower symbolize transformation, strength, and mystery. However, the black calla lily has a rather unique association.” Barbatos paused and turned to face you. His tail wrapped around the back of your thighs and pulled you closer to him. He held your gaze seductively and spoke, slow and heavy: “forbidden love.”

Barbatos had brought you here on purpose – both to see that particular arrangement and because the hall was quiet and not prone to foot traffic. He gave you a gentle smile that smothered the spark of heat you had felt in his eyes.

You found yourself searching for something to say – to cut the charged tension in a still-very-public part of the castle. “It’s a beautiful arrangement, Barbatos.”

Barbatos chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, dear, I lost myself momentarily. Shall we continue to the garden?”

He didn’t wait for a response before he turned and began to walk. You immediately felt his tail drop and encircle one of your calves, pulling you along with him.

The table Barbatos had set up in the garden was filled with a variety of flowers. You could see that he had nearly completed another arrangement before you had arrived. Barbatos added a few more hell roses and a sprig of black grass before he wrapped it carefully. “I’m going to place this in an empty vase. You’re welcome to use whatever you’d like to create your arrangement.”

“Will you display it in the castle when I’m done?”

“I’d like to, yes – if you don’t mind.”

You grinned to yourself as Barbatos walked away. The thought of Barbatos looking at an arrangement you made throughout the week as he went about his duties left you nervous but eager to please. Instinctively, you reached for a blue anemone. Sure, you probably should have considered what would suit the castle and the potential surrounding décor, but all you could think about was Barbatos. You added a few purple hyacinths, and cursed baby blue eyes, rotating the placement of each selection, but you felt that something was missing. The pale blue glow of hell jasmine called to you. Strange; the scent of hell jasmine was said to make a demon extremely needy. Why would Barbatos want to display these in the castle? That seems a bit dangerous. However, on closer inspection, the scent had been hampered significantly compared to other times you had run into this plant.

“Let me guess,” Barbatos spoke up as he returned to the garden. “You’re wondering if that hell jasmine has had an effect on me today?”

“Sort of.”

“Worry not. This variety has been modified. Its scent has no power over me. That honor is all yours today. It’s perfectly safe to use in your arrangement.”

“Oh!” You felt the heat rise in your face. You weren’t sure you believed him with all his sweet-talking. But that didn’t matter. If the hell jasmine was safe to use, it would make for the perfect final touch. You wanted to surprise Barbatos with your creative decisions. “Close your eyes, please.”

“As you wish.” Barbatos made no attempt to get closer and shut his eyes. You finished your arrangement and brought it to Barbatos, holding it out to him like an offering.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” You watched as a look of pleasant surprise was sketched on Barbatos’s face. The smile on his lips filled you with an unfamiliar pride – so warm and encompassing as if you had performed a miracle. There was no restraint in that smile. “I made it with you in mind.”

“Oh my.” Barbatos brought the knuckle of his index finger to his mouth. “I beg your pardon, but would you indulge my selfishness and put your arrangement in my room? There’s an empty vase on the table near the door.”

“You want to display it in your room?”

“I would feel better knowing something so thoughtfully crafted by you was in my room. I’m afraid I would feel quite jealous allowing someone else to admire it. That is, I want the sole joy of seeing it and thinking of you each day. Is that okay?”

“Are you certain the hell jasmine has had no effect on you?” You looked at him suspiciously as if that would distract from the way he flustered you.

“I’m afraid not. This seems to be a consequence of thinking about you so much today. Now, will you do me a favor and deliver those to my room? I believe you’re adept at finding my room on your own by now,” Barbatos added a seductive tinge to the last sentence. He turned you towards the entrance and gave you a gentle nudge. The warmth of his hand lingered as you headed to his room.

When you returned, Barbatos was carefully wrapping a bouquet of blue roses and darkness thyme – likely both of which were cultivated by Barbatos. It was simple, but the blue roses were stunning, and their rarity was only complemented by an equally rare herb. Barbatos tied a silky blue bow around the bouquet and held it out to you with both hands – an oddly elegant gesture.

“Where would you like me to put these?” you asked.

“No, my dear, these are for you.”

Your eyes widened and you took a closer look at the bouquet. Nine blue roses. Nine was for a timeless, eternal love. Blue roses signified mystery and uniqueness, but they could also mean something unattainable or impossible. You frowned. “Eternal love is impossible?”

Sure, maybe Barbatos wouldn’t love you forever, but that message seemed a bit cruel.

“Not quite.” Barbatos laughed at you softly. Had his laugh not been so sweet, you might have been upset. “Blue may represent the impossible, but here it is – a dream come true. If I can be so bold, you are a dream come true – the only one I could adore like this for all of time.”

The frown fell from your face, and you were left with shock and shyness. Something must have gotten into him today. In truth, the thought of the others giving you roses only encouraged Barbatos to charm you as much as he could, and that meant he would need to bare his heart to you. Barbatos pulled you in close and kissed you with a sweetness that matched his words.

“For a demon such as myself, eternal love is a rather serious proposal; will you still accept it?” His thumb ran across your lower lip.

“That would be a dream come true.” It was your turn to kiss and fluster him now. Hopefully none of the little D.s would go into the garden that afternoon.

Lucifer (1) | Mammon (2) | Leviathan (3) | Satan (4) | Asmodeus (5) | Beelzebub (6) | Belphegor (7) | Diavolo (8) | Luke (10) | Simeon (11) | Solomon (12) | Thirteen (13) | Raphael (14) | Mephistopheles (15)

#this was not supposed to be this long. I just got too into it. I'll try to go back to shorter posts next time. #I took my idea and ran with it so here it is #barbatos #gn!mc #obey me series #obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #please let this one get some much craved (by me) attention #also did I give Barbatos soft dom energy or what?

[writeroutoftime]

Could you write where you were Carmys high school crush and he sees you again and gets so shy bc he thought you liked his brother brother but you actually had a crush on him ?

words: 0.7k

a/n: okay, this is set somewhere during season 2 before the opening of The Bear…anyway please enjoy!! (and maybe let me know what you think?)

oOoOo

It was a gray and cloudy day in Chicago as Carmy leant against the rough bricks of the building, slowly taking a drag of his cigarette. He was so caught up in menu ideas, dining room setups, and how everything was going to get fucking paid for, he didn’t recognize the figure that had stopped right in front of him.

“Carmen? Carmy Berzatto is that you?” a voice spoke from above him, sweet and melodic.

He squinted up, eyes opening suddenly as his brain put the mental puzzle together. “y-y/n.” he choked out, throwing his cigarette to the ground and quickly stomping it out. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m back in Chicago for a while.” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can I give you a hug? I’m gonna give you a hug.” you told him before you launched forward and wrapped your arms around his frame.

Carmy found himself melting into your touch, transported back to high school when you had been one of his closest friends. So many afternoons spent in the dining room of The Beef, laughing at each other and dreaming about what you would do when you were finally free from high school. All that time Carmy had the biggest crush on you, but stayed silent, always assuming you had a crush on Mikey instead.

“But enough about me.” you insisted, stepping away to give him his space once more and pulling him from his thoughts. “How are you? What have you been up to, Mr. ‘one of the best chefs in the country’?”   

Carmy felt a blush spread across his face at your praise. “You know, pretty good. Uh, it was definitely hard there after Mikey, but things, things are good. Gonna be opening up a new restaurant soon.” he shrugged, as calmly as if he had told you about going to the dentist.

“What? Carmy that’s amazing!” you shouted, ignoring the stares of the people of Chicago walking by. “I’m so proud of you! And I know that Mikey would be too.”

“Thanks.”

A moment of silence passed, more nostalgic rather than uncomfortable. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat over seeing Carmy again. It was easy to tell how worn out he looked, and there was a pang of guilt over your lack of connections the past few years. Resolved to be better, you held your hand out expectantly.

“Give me your phone.” you said followed by an exasperated look when Carmy simply stared back at you. “Fate brought us back together, but I don’t want this to be it, so give me your phone and I’ll give you my number.”

Realization clicked in his mind, and Carmy fumbled for his phone. “Uh, yeah, sure. Here you go.” A few taps later and the phone was safely back in his hands, and his grip was tight as if it had suddenly become his most prized position.

“I have to go now, but I’ll talk to you later. And I can’t wait to eat at your new restaurant!” you told him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before strolling away.

The rest of the day, Carmy fell into a pattern of typing out a text, hovering his finger over the send button, before chickening out. He briefly considered asking for Sydney's or Sugar's help, but he knew Richie or someone would over here and then the entire staff would be giving him shit over it. Finally, as the night carried on, Carmy said fuck it and sent a text.

8:50, carmy: hey, nice seeing you today 8:53, y/n: I'm glad we ran into each other 8:54, y/n: and that you agreed to me giving you my number 8:57, carmy: yeah? 9:01, y/n: yeah, you were one of my best friends, and I want us to be close again 9:01, y/n: plus, I had the biggest crush on you back in high school so 18-year-old me would be freaking out now. I thought it was so obvious lol.

Carmy couldn't stop himself from reading your last message, three times over. You had a crush on him then? Maybe, just maybe you still did. Fuck he thought, how was he gonna respond?

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear imagine #rita writes

[daisynik7]

Rush

Chapter 9: Could've Been

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: cunnilingus (face riding), vaginal sex (cowgirl), underaged drinking, angst

Summary: On the night of Alpha Tau’s fall formal, you finally do something that should have been done a long time ago.

Notes: Song is “Could’ve Been” by H.E.R. (ft. Bryson Tiller)

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Rush Series Masterlist

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In the days preceding Alpha Tau’s fall formal, Eren doesn’t hear a peep from her. The night he broke the news about taking Pieck as his date, she hung up on him without waiting for a goodbye. He should have predicted this type of reaction. Given how clingy she’s been in the past, he was hoping for a truce in the form of sex after a few days of letting it simmer. That’s how he lands back in her good graces time and time again. 

Even with this radio silence, it doesn’t faze him much. He’s confident that he’s still got the upper hand. Once the weekend is over and she realizes nothing will happen between him and Pieck, the anger will subside; she’ll come crawling back. Eager and needy for him like always. Does he feel guilty for pissing her off? Sure, maybe just a bit. It is what it is.

Saturday afternoon, Eren and Armin head to Alpha Tau to board the first bus. Dressed in sweats and bags in hand, the two roommates part ways outside the house. Armin goes towards Annie, Hitch, and Connie. Eren is dragged to where Reiner, Sandra, and Bertolt wait. Pieck and the other Delta Mu sister, who Eren recognizes is Mikasa’s friend Louise, arrive five minutes later. 

“Hi Eren,” Pieck says, a polite smile spread across her face.

“Hey. Thanks for coming with me.”

Louise stands next to Bertolt while Reiner hands out flasks to each of them, filled with what smells like vodka. He whispers, “Don’t worry, we have more bottles in our bags. We can refill at the hotel later.”

Sandra breaks away from their group to hug Hitch. Eren turns around to observe them, immediately making eye contact with Annie, who glares. He makes a mental note to steer clear of her the rest of the evening. 

He scans the rest of the crowd to look for Mikasa and Jean. He doesn’t spot them, assuming they’ll be on the next bus scheduled to leave in half an hour. Mike is also noticeably missing. 

Once boarded, Eren and Pieck sit beside each other in a comfortable silence for the first ten minutes of the ride. Attempting to initiate small talk, he reiterates, “Thank you again for coming with me to this.”

She giggles. “I’ll admit, I was a bit surprised to hear that you wanted to take me.”

“Why?” He sips from his flask, curious.

“I thought you’d take your girlfriend instead. You know, the one we played beer pong with at Halloween?” She says her name, causing Eren to sputter on his drink. 

Whipping his head around to ensure no one else can hear them, he whispers, “What did you say?”

There’s a sly grin on her face as she responds, “It was very obvious. You couldn’t stop staring at her.”

“Well, she’s not my girlfriend. I barely know her,” he explains, hastily.  

She raises a brow, studying him. “Who is she to you, then? It seems like there’s something going on between you two.” 

“She’s no one,” he lies. A twinge of guilt spasms in his chest.

Shrugging, she relents. “Sorry for assuming. I guess I’m wrong.” She wears her pleasant smile again, unconcerned that she rocked his cool disposition. “Forget I said anything.”

He wasn’t expecting her name to be brought up at all tonight. It seems like everywhere he goes, she lingers, whether in his own mind or in that of others. It hasn’t been fifteen minutes into this bus ride, and he’s already flustered. He drinks more alcohol to suppress his feelings until she’s buried all the way in the back of his thoughts.

At the hotel, each brother checks into their room. Reiner, Bertolt, and Eren opt for single beds. Before they head up the elevator to their assigned floor, Armin passes by and mentions, “If you guys want to pre-game with us, we’re all rooming together in Room 310!”

Reiner scoffs. “No thanks. We’re going to have our own pre-game in my room.”

Sandra smacks him on the arm. “I want to hang out with Hitch. Let’s just pre-game in their room. It’s bigger and there will be more people. It’ll be way more fun.”

Reiner grumbles, “Fine. We’ll see you there. We’ll bring some of our alcohol.”

“Great! We brought some too. See you all in a bit!”

Up on the third floor, Eren and Pieck enter Room 324 in silence, both unsure what to talk about. He especially feels awkward after their conversation earlier on the bus. Pieck occupies the bathroom to change while he gets ready in one corner of the room. He decides on an all-black outfit comprised of a turtleneck sweater underneath his suit jacket, black slacks, and black oxfords. Pieck exits the bathroom, wearing a maroon floral dress that flows down to her ankles.

“You look great,” he compliments, as she puts on her shoes. 

“Thank you!” she beams. “You too. You kinda look like a spy.”

He takes it as a compliment, focusing on his reflection in the mirror to style his hair in the classic man-bun. It’s only now that he recalls how Mike was the first to tie his hair up like this, way back at the beginning of the semester. You owe me if this gets you laid tonight, he remembers him saying. In a way, he does owe that idiot. He figures they’re even now, considering what happened on Halloween. 

Thinking about him with her bothers Eren once again. But he takes solace knowing they won’t be together here. Rumor has it that the senior goes to formals alone on account of him notoriously getting too drunk to pay attention to his date. Certain this is still true, he isn’t concerned about running into her today. The evening will pass by smoothly. All according to plan. 

He waits for Pieck to finish her makeup before heading down the hall to Room 310. Armin and Connie greet them, patting him on the back happily; Pieck goes over to the girls to introduce herself. Eren does his best to avoid the women, especially Annie, who continues to stare daggers at him every chance she gets. 

The rest join soon after, the girls sticking together, the boys huddled in their own circle. Bertolt sneaks glances at Annie, who completely ignores him. Reiner miraculously does not make any offensive comments, a true rarity for him. 

For the next hour, they drink while chatting, the girls casually dancing along to the music blasting through Connie’s speakers. Once it gets closer to 7:00 PM, they all pour whatever remaining liquor they have into their flasks to sneak downstairs. Eren is filling his with vodka when Annie intentionally bumps into him. 

“Annie,” he nods. 

“Jaeger,” she mutters, eyeing him with contempt. 

He doesn’t say anything, not interested in conversing with her, predicting it will lead to the mention of a certain someone. She doesn’t give him a choice, though, as she begins speaking. “Pieck is nice. I hope you don’t lead her on, too.”

In a low voice, he responds, “I’m not interested in Pieck like that. I just had to bring someone.”

She scoffs, barely keeping herself quiet. Luckily, the music is loud enough to drown out their conversation. “I take back what I said to you last week. I don’t respect you at all. At least Reiner knows he’s an asshole and owns it. You on the other hand, you’re a lost cause. I still have no idea why she would associate with someone like you.”

“Can you just drop it already, Annie?” he hisses. “Can’t I have one night without her being thrown in my face like this?”

She blinks, a tiny smirk forming on her lips. “You have no idea, do you?”

“No idea about what?”

“Oh, nothing. You’ll see soon enough.” She steps away to join her friends again, leaving Eren to speculate on her ominous parting. It’s just Annie trying to get under his skin, which she always successfully does. Frustrated, he takes the whole vodka bottle and throws it back, swallowing a few shots worth until his throat burns.

Downstairs, the doors to the ballroom are open. Levi stands at the entrance greeting everyone as they enter. “Oi, pledges. Welcome to your first formal. Seating chart is over there.” He points to an easel with a large sign propped on it. “Have fun.”

Eren scans the poster for his name, seeing it listed under Table 3. He’s tipsy enough not to care who else is sitting with them. At the table, Marco is already seated next to his friend, a girl from the women’s soccer team. Petra from Sigma Nu Kappa sits next to an empty chair with a jacket slung over the back, presumably Levi’s. There are two remaining spots currently unoccupied.

They take their seats, Pieck chatting up the rest of the table as Eren examines his surroundings, trying to locate his friends. Armin and Connie are at a table with Erwin and his guest, Hange. Reiner and Bertolt sit three tables away with another brother and his date, SNK senior Nanabe. He has no idea where Mikasa and Jean are, neither of them making their appearance yet. The second bus should have already arrived, so he expects they’ll be making their grand entrance soon. 

The venue continues to fill up, people situated in their seats, snacking on the appetizers. Most of the seniors are in line at the bar to purchase drinks, besides Levi, who is sober monitor. 

Eren takes swigs from his flask, letting the vodka continue to take its effects on his mind and body. He feels good. Relaxed. Tonight, there will be no drama, exactly the way he planned it. If he keeps consuming liquor, she’ll remain in the furthest corner of his mind. 

Still, the tiniest part of him misses her. But that’s what the alcohol is for. Forgetting. 

He sits facing away from the doorway, so when Petra’s face lights up and Levi smirks, saying, “Ah, finally,” Eren has to physically turn around to see who it is they are talking to.

As soon as he recognizes them, the heat from the liquor seems to rush straight out of his body, leaving him frozen in place.

~~~

The week leading up to Alpha Tau’s formal, you start scheming. The infuriating phone call with Eren was just the fuel you needed to get you fired up.

Every decent quality about him, from his undeniable sex appeal to the occasional loving gestures, has been forced into the most secluded crevices of your mind. Instead, you let all the crummy details about him surface. 

He took advantage of your naivety, knowing you were inexperienced and desperate for any form of affection. After he lured you in, he manipulated you into thinking you were special, that your many moonlight trysts with one another had to be kept a secret. As if it was so fucking romantic to keep you hidden away like his most prized possession when he was really trying to find more treasure elsewhere. 

Worst of all, he won’t let you go. He has to have you. String you along until it’s the right time for him to toss you aside once he grows tired of you. Until you become an overused and rejected toy withering away into the worst version of yourself, all while he replaces you with someone shinier and new. 

The only way to avoid that is to end it with him first. Officially and for good. 

No more empty promises, no more subtle blows to your confidence and self-worth. No more heartbreak. You won’t allow him to desecrate your fragile heart any longer. 

The easy route would be to have a private discussion about it. Maybe after the event, so you don’t ruin his fun weekend plans. But you don’t want it to be easy. You want it to be satisfying. Meaningful. You want it to hurt; not enough to mangle him, but just enough to leave a scar. If he ever becomes a better person later in life, he’ll always remember what he did to you, hopefully determined not to repeat the same mistakes. 

Your plan is set in motion. The first step is to get yourself at Alpha Tau’s formal. On Wednesday, Armin invites you and Mikasa over to the fraternity house to eat dinner. You sit with Mike at one of the tables. Mikasa, who wants you at formal for her own selfish reasons, and Armin sit beside you. You plan to bombard the senior to bring you. It’s a known fact that Mike goes stag to these dances, the reason being that he always gets too drunk to pay enough attention to whoever he’s taking. 

It doesn’t take much to convince him, though. You proposition him, explaining how much fun the two of you will have together, how you won’t mind if he gets blackout drunk. Even offering to take care of him if in the morning in case he has a hangover. 

“Okay. I’ll make an exception for you. By the way, breakfast burritos are my go-to hangover cure.”

You smile at him. “Noted.” 

“Do you think they’ll still let her go even though it’s past the deadline?” Armin asks.

“Erwin and Levi are my best friends. They’ll let me do anything, don’t worry. You will be my date this Saturday,” he emphasizes, winking. 

With step one complete, the next move is to make a grand entrance. 

Thursday afternoon, Mikasa, Annie, and Hitch accompany you to the mall to pick out your outfit. Your roommate suggests a red dress, similar to one that she’s planning to wear. Annie and Hitch, fully aware of your Eren situation, recommend a black, off-the-shoulder bodycon, coming down just past your knees. Complete with a side slit the runs up mid-thigh. A revenge dress. 

Out of the fitting room, Mikasa let’s out a low whistle. “Okay, forget I even suggested red because this is everything.”

“You look hot!” Hitch exclaims.

“It’s perfect,” Annie says. 

In it, you feel confident, beautiful, and most of all, powerful. You’re ready to pull the rug out from under him in one fell swoop.

Saturday arrives. At the hotel, you and Mike check into your single room. By the time you’re finished in the bathroom, you hear a soft knock on the door. Upon opening it, Mike, handsome and suave in his navy-blue suit, looks you up and down. “You look fucking amazing.”

You smile at him. “Thank you. So do you.” 

The two of you share this unspoken agreement to remain friends, maybe with a couple benefits here and there. However, your main focus tonight is to deal with Eren. 

“We better head to Erwin’s room now before I get any ideas.” Giving you one more look, he turns around to collect his bottle of Hennessy, waiting for you to slip into your heels. 

Down the hall, Erwin, Hange, Petra, and Levi share a room, where they host the pre-game. Mikasa and Jean eventually join, as well as some other seniors. The president and vice president leave first to set up downstairs, dragging their dates along with them. One by one, more people leave until it’s just you, Mike, Mikasa, and Jean. 

As it gets closer to dinnertime, you wobble towards the ballroom, tipsy and giggly from the cognac. Mike tries to hold you steady, but he’s no better off. You take a quick look at the seating chart, noting your assignment. Mikasa follows Jean to the other side of the room as you and Mike make your way to Table 3, finding it already mostly occupied. Petra and Levi, who you just saw, greet you with amused expressions on their faces.

It takes you a minute to register that Eren is seated at the same table, staring at you with wide eyes and a clenched jaw. This is not a part of your plan.

Regardless, this is going to be fun.

Avoiding his gaze, you and Mike occupy the empty seats between Pieck and Levi. You acknowledge your neighbor with a smile, who returns it. 

“I love your dress. You look so pretty!” you compliment her.

“Thank you. You look pretty, too.”

You continue to chat with Pieck, completely ignoring Eren, who is visibly uncomfortable beside her. 

You’re not exactly sure what the next step in your plan is yet. Once you made it to the dance, you figure you’d toy with him, flaunt your sexy black dress in his face until he’s drooling. And if you have the chance to catch him alone tonight, then you’d confront him, ending your relationship once and for all. But there’s no way to predict if that opportunity will ever come, considering how unlikely it is to get a moment alone together. Deciding to go with the flow, you try to relax, relishing the way Eren sneaks subtle glances at you. 

Dinner starts. Mike is already on his third drink from the bar, speech slurred, tie loosened. Definitely drunk. Levi attempts to slow him down by switching his cocktail with a glass of water, which works until Mike finally notices the difference. By the time the entrees are out, he gets up once more for another rum and coke.

For the first time all night, you hear Eren speak. “He’s fucking wasted.” There’s malice in his voice, clearly annoyed.

Levi shrugs. “He always does this at formals.”

Eren rolls his eyes. “It’s distracting.”

Petra chimes in. “Oh, he’s harmless.”

He stands up abruptly, rattling the table. “Whatever. I’m getting some punch.”

You wait a minute or two to make your move. “I’m going to get punch too. Anybody want anything?”

Pieck says, “I’d like some, please.”

“You got it. I’ll be right back.”

Eren is alone when you approach the refreshments table, opposite side of the room from where the bar is. He takes a sip from his punch before reaching into his pocket for a flask. He notices you as you pour two cups of punch for yourself and Pieck.

He looks around, making sure the coast is clear. “What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, so you’re actually speaking to me in public now?”

He ignores that, repeating, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m getting myself and your date punch, since you aren’t doing it yourself.”

Taking a deep breath, he mutters, “You know what I mean. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here with Mike?”

“Why should I? You never told me that you were going to bring Pieck until after the fact. And as far as I know, we don’t have to tell each other anything. You’re not my boyfriend.”

He blinks at you, seemingly at a loss for words. You continue to glare at him, waiting for a response. 

After a couple of seconds, he murmurs, “This is different.”

“How?”

“I have no intentions of fucking Pieck. But Mike…I know he’s trying to fuck you.”

“Is that all I’m good for? Sex? Has it ever crossed your mind that Mike actually likes me?” Your composure is beginning to crack. 

“Come on, I see the way he looks at you. He’s a fucking skeeze,” he spits out.

“So what? At least he talks to me. Acknowledges my existence.”

He swallows hard, saying in a low voice, “That’s not fair.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

You stare at one another, neither of you backing down. You’re tempted to tell him it’s over, that you want to end it with him. But it still doesn’t feel like the right time yet. Maybe you want it to hurt a little more.

As you turn around to walk back to the table, you hear him say, “You look beautiful, by the way. You are beautiful.”

Shit. You promised yourself you wouldn’t fall for his sweet talk. Every time he calls you that, your heart flutters. 

Without responding, you walk away from him and back to your seat, handing Pieck her punch. Mike is back in his chair, scarfing down his steak. A few minutes later, Eren sits down, clearing his throat nervously. Focused on the plate of food in front of you, his compliment replays in your head like lyrics to your favorite song. You grip your fork tightly, upset for wavering, trying to convince yourself that it doesn’t mean anything.

You eat your meal in peace, casually chatting with the others, except for Eren, who remains sullen and quiet. Dessert is served and there’s a couple of minutes for everyone to digest and socialize. Erwin makes a quick announcement, thanking all of the brothers for a great semester, despite last year’s scandal. He even gives a special shoutout to Sigma Nu Kappa for a successful partnership, helping them regain their well-received reputation. He signals to the DJ, who starts up the music again, formally opening up the dancefloor. 

“Let’s go,” Eren mumbles to Pieck. 

She has an excited expression on her face as she asks, “Are we going to dance?”

“No, we’re going to Reiner’s table. C’mon.”

Frowning, she follows him to where Reiner and Bertolt sit with their dates, looking bored and unenthused. 

Grinning at Mike, you yank his wrist, beckoning him to the dancefloor. He gives you a goofy smile and follows, joining your friends who already started dancing. More people surround you, creating a lively atmosphere as the music blares through the speakers. 

Mike dances behind you, sliding his hands around your waist to pull you in closer. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, the bold scent of liquor emanating from his warm breath. You feel the vibrations on your skin as he hums along to the song.

You place your hands over his, swinging your hips in rhythm to the music as he moves with you. You glance over to where Eren’s sits, sulking right alongside Reiner and Bertolt, their poor guests watching the rest of the crowd in envy. Once in a while, your eyes meet; you quickly look away to turn your attention back to Mike and the rest of your friends.

~~~

The last person Eren expects to see tonight is her. Yet, here she is, gorgeous and stunning, exactly like in his fantasies. She wears that dress as if it was tailored to her and only her. It’s perfection. 

Except for the fact that Mike is wrapped around her like a fucking snake. 

The universe has a funny way of messing with Eren. And rightfully so, considering what an asshole he’s been. Still, this form of punishment seems a little too cruel.

He watches from a distance as he slithers all over her, practically salivating on her, similar to a beast in the wild preparing for a feast. Eren’s skin crawls with rage and jealousy. 

“You’re not going to dance, are you?” he hears Sandra ask Reiner, who slouches lazily in his seat. 

“Nope.”

Rolling her eyes, she says, “Fine. I’m going to join Hitch and her friends then. You’re boring.”

“Whatever, have fun with those freaks,” he mumbles. 

Suddenly, Eren feels a tap on his shoulder, finding Pieck and Louise standing together with their purses in hand. “Louise and I are going back to campus. She’s not feeling well.”

He quickly turns around to look at Bertolt, who’s propped up on his elbow against the table, looking absolutely disinterested. 

Facing the girls again, he asks Pieck, “You have to go too?”

She nods. “Yeah, I don’t want her to go alone.”

“Are you coming back?”

“I don’t think so. Honestly, you’re not a fun person.”

Ouch. Her bluntness stings. Can he blame her, though? He’s not exactly a bundle of joy right now. 

“Anyways, our Uber is coming, so we’re just going to wait outside.” They walk towards the exit, leaving the three moody Alpha Tau brothers alone.

Eren leans back in his chair, defeated. He envisioned formal differently. In his imagination, he’s having fun with her as his date. He should be out there right now, not Mike. Dancing, smiling, and laughing around their friends. Happy and carefree together. Instead, he’s sitting in the corner, pretending to be too cool to have a good time.

It's his own fault. He refuses to admit it out loud, but he did let Reiner influence his decisions. Is he really that desperate to create a reputation for himself that won’t matter in a few years? Maybe even in a few months? At the rate he’s going, he’ll be known for being a dud anyways. It’s not like he was actively trying to be a fuck boy, considering he’s only ever wanted to be with her since they started. 

Besides, what’s so bad about dating a Sigma Nu Kappa? Reiner is the only one who seems to have an issue with it. On his big brother’s word alone, Eren has been convinced that dating an SNK girl is a disgrace. He didn’t even think to question it until now. There’s nothing wrong with them. Sure, Annie can be scary most of the time, but he recognizes how loyal she is to those she cares about. Mikasa has been his friend for years, and while she can be just as intense as he is, she loves her friends fiercely. 

And with her, he can’t think of any major flaws. To him, she’s beautiful, inside and out. 

He lays his head on the table, confused about his feelings, which are constantly in limbo. So much so that even he can’t keep up with himself. Again, he wonders why this is more difficult than it needs to be. Is he that afraid of falling in love?

From his peripheral, he notices her and Mike walk off the dancefloor. The senior heads straight to the bar while she exits the ballroom. Without thinking, Eren follows her from a distance. In the hotel lobby, he watches her make her way outside, probably to cool herself down after nearly an hour of dancing. 

He sinks into one of the couches, waiting for her to reappear. He wants a moment alone, just the two of them. Away from the crowd, uninterrupted by the music. Most of all, he wants to invite her to his room now that he has it all to himself. This is an opportunity he didn’t think he’d get at all today. He’ll regret it if he doesn’t take advantage of it. 

Once she’s back in the lobby, she heads down the hallway leading to the bathrooms. Giving him the opening he’s been wishing for all night.

~~~

After an hour of dancing, you feel yourself overheating from the constant movement and the heat radiating from the crowd. You and Mike decide to take a break. He leaves for the bar to take shots with Erwin and the other seniors. Sweat beading on your forehead, you make your way outside, in dire need for fresh air. Pieck and Louise are huddled, standing at the curb.

“Are you two leaving already?” you ask, waving your hand across your face like a fan, still burning up from all the dancing.

Pieck replies, “Yeah. Louise isn’t feeling well, so we’re going back.”

“Oh no! Are you alright? Do you need medicine or anything?”

Louise grins, answering, “Do you have a pill for someone dying of boredom? Because that’s what I need for Bertolt.”

Surprised and amused at her joke, you chuckle, “What do you mean?”

“He barely talks! Every time I try to start a conversation, he only gives me one-word answers. And he keeps ogling at Annie. That dude has it so bad for her, it’s sad.” 

“So you’re not really sick?”

“Of course not. I just needed an excuse to get us out of there.”

Laughing, you look over at Pieck. “How about you? Were you not having fun either?”

She shrugs, that same polite smile on her face. “Not really.”

“You should have joined us on the dancefloor!”

She laughs. “But how would I get out of spending the night in the same room as Eren? I figured it’s better to just bail completely.” She pauses, then says, “You know, he’s always staring at you.”

Surprised by her observation, you look at her, silently waiting for her to explain further. 

“It was just like at the Halloween party. Either he really hates you or he’s absolutely crazy about you. I’m guessing it’s the latter.”

You look down at the ground, flustered. “I don’t know about that.”

She leans in to nudge you gently in the arm. “It’s pretty obvious he’s got a thing for you. I even told him earlier today how I was surprised that he was taking me instead of you. His girlfriend.”

“I am not his girlfriend. I’m sure he told you that, too.”

“Yeah, he did. But he’s a dumb, immature boy. Of course he’s too proud to admit it.”

“I don’t think it’s pride that’s getting in his way. It’s his ego.” Fearing you revealed too much, you veer off. “Anyways, I’m sorry you two didn’t have a good time.”

“At least the food was good,” Louise comments. Her phone chimes. “Oh, our Uber is almost here. Tell Mikasa I say bye! I didn’t get a chance to tell her I’m leaving.”

“Will do. Have a safe ride home!” You bid them farewell then walk back into the lobby, the distinct thump of the bass resounding from the ballroom. Still feeling sticky with sweat, you head to the bathroom down an empty hallway to blot your face and touch up your makeup. 

As you exit, you notice Eren leaning against the wall, waiting for you. The two of you hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds before he suddenly takes you by the wrist and leads you farther into the hall, hidden behind a large plant. 

Back pressed to the wall, trapped by both his hands at either side of your head, you stare at him wide-eyed as he studies you with uneven breaths. You swallow hard, muttering his name.

One of his hands slide over your shoulder, fingertips tickling your skin gently until they’re at your wrist. He brings your hand up to his lips and scatters soft kisses in between your knuckles. 

“My date left, so I have the room all to myself. Room 324. Come by,” he whispers, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Please.” 

You feel your heart race and a familiar sensation fluttering below your belly as he continues to kiss you, green eyes peering at you longingly. 

“I’m with Mike,” you stutter, suddenly shy under his gaze.

“Well, if he’s too drunk to get it up, you know where to find me,” he teases, smiling into your skin. He drops your hand and cups your cheek, leaning in closer. “Can I kiss you?”

Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to refuse his advances. But one kiss wouldn’t hurt, right? You reach for the collar of his sweater and push your lips together. His tongue slips inside your mouth in an instant, eager for a taste.

You pull away from him. “Maybe I don’t want to see you later tonight.”

He flashes a cocky smirk. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

You’re tempted to kiss him once more. Instead, you push him off and walk away, heading back into the ballroom.

Mike is slouched onto Levi’s shoulder at your table. When Levi spots you, he yells out, “Oi, I think I’m going to bring him back to your room now. He’s pretty much passed out.”

You sit beside them, stroking Mike’s arm. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just piss drunk. Feel free to hang out here for a little while longer.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll help you,” you offer. “Just in case.”

“Alright. Let’s go.”

The two of you sling Mike’s arms over your shoulders, carrying him as he drags his feet languidly. Once you’re back inside your room, you and Levi carefully place him on the bed, where he shifts around until he’s snuggled with a pillow, grunting occasionally. Levi snorts, “Idiot.”

He looks to you and says, “Thanks for helping me. Sorry he’s like this.”

“No worries. I’m not mad. I should have expected this.”

Levi leaves, heading back as you sit at the edge of the bed, watching Mike snore noisily. You fill a glass of water and set it on the dresser beside him in case he needs to hydrate. You poke him with your finger, which only causes him to mumble something incoherent. To be fair, you were warned about this.

You hear your phone vibrate in your purse. There’s one new message:

Eren: I’m in my room now

Staring at the text, you contemplate your next move. This is the opportunity you were hoping for. A moment alone with Eren, a chance to fulfill what you need to do. Despite all the anger and resentment you harbor for him, there’s still a part of you that desires to be with him one last time.   

Letting your feet lead you to Room 324, you decide to give in to one more moment of weakness.

~~~

Eren sits at the end of the bed, staring at the text message he just sent, eagerly waiting for a response. Tapping his foot nervously, he checks his phone every five seconds to make sure he isn’t missing anything.

Ten grueling minutes pass and a gentle knock on the door stirs his insides. He takes a deep breath and opens the door, thrilled to see her, still in her sensual black dress that’s been tantalizing him all fucking night.

He pulls her into the room, double locking the door when it shuts. Squishing her adorable cheeks between his palms, he leans forward and kisses her hungrily, tongue licking her lips and grazing her teeth. Desperate to taste every bit of her that he’s been deprived of all week long.

They lie on the bed, him on top of her, his hands roaming her body starting from her neck down to her legs. Flirting with the seductive slit exposing her thighs. The dress is skintight, hugging every inch of her figure flawlessly. His cock is already hard beneath his slacks, and they haven’t even undressed yet. 

“Take my clothes off,” she breathes out, rolling to her side to show him the zipper. He obeys, marveling at her bare back as he splits the dress open. He trails kisses along the skin he uncovers. She slides the dress off at her shoulders, where he gives her a nibble, resulting in that cute giggle he loves hearing so much. 

“Don’t giggle like that with anyone else. Only me,” he demands, kissing her sloppily as he shoves her dress lower to reveal her breasts. He hovers over her, sucking at one of her nipples until it’s plump and taut between his lips. 

“Fuck,” she moans, squirming beneath him as she wiggles out of her dress completely. In record time, Eren strips off all of his clothes, leaving just his briefs, barely concealing his erection. 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers, mouth surrounding her other tit as his fingers drift to her arousal, rubbing at the wet spot of her black lace panties. “I’ve missed this pretty pussy, too.” 

He slips his middle finger pass the fabric, collecting the slick from her entrance to rub onto her clit. Upon contact, her hips buck, begging for more of his touch. With a chuckle, he releases her nipple from his mouth to suck on a spot on her neck, hard enough to leave a mark. He buries his nose in the divot of her collarbone, inhaling her intoxicating, familiar scent.

“Can I taste you?” he asks, dying to quench his thirst, willing to drown in her arousal. 

She nods, fingers hooking the hem of her underwear to remove them. He slides them off her, eyeing her naked body greedily.

“Sit on my face. I want it to drip into my mouth.” 

She curses under her breath, scooting over for him to lie down. He can’t help but smile as she straddles him, gripping the headboard and slowly lowering her hips so her pussy is flush against his lips. 

“Don’t hold back, baby. Ride my face like you ride my cock.” With his hands on her hips, he sucks on her clit until she’s whining in pleasure, slick trickling out of her slit and onto his chin. 

She rocks back and forth, obeying his instructions like the good girl she’s always been. 

“Come all over my face, baby. Get that pussy really wet for my cock.”

Moaning, she ruts against him faster, his lips surrounding her as he flicks her clit with his tongue rapidly. Cum coats his mouth and chin. She carefully lifts herself off, kneeling besides him, eyes glazed over from her orgasm. 

Sitting up to face her, he caresses her cheek, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. He takes his time, appreciating her supple lips and the subtle contrast of his rough thumb brushing over the delicate skin of her cheekbone. He reaches down his briefs, sliding them off and tossing them to the floor. He strokes his cock, craving to feel her lush walls squeeze tightly around him. 

~~~

Eren breaks away, slightly out of breath, whispering, “Can you ride me? I want to see your face.” 

The words slip out of his mouth, smooth like butter, enticing as ever. You nod, granting his request. Knowing this will be the last time. 

He lies back down, gazing at you. You straddle his lap, rubbing your wet folds against him before you position your entrance at the tip of his dick. Without using your hands, you slide onto him, feeling the vibrations from his gravely moans reverberate through his chest. 

You ride him slowly, thrusting your ass onto his hard cock. He squeezes your hips, directing you to move faster. You resist, determined to set your own pace. For once, you’re in control, not him.

“Fuck, you’re so good. You’re so fucking good to me,” he chants as you grind onto his lap. You start moaning along with him, succumbing to the pleasure, leaning onto his chest, and listening to his racing heartbeat. He keeps one hand at your waist; the other at the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer.  

“God, you’re beautiful. I’m so lucky. I’m so fucking lucky,” he whispers to you, lips grazing your ear. You tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“Kiss me,” he says, staring at you with soft eyes, yearning for you. 

You lean in to brush your lips against his, making him think everything is fine. Sending him to Cloud 9 so that he can crash down onto the cold, hard dirt once you’re through with him.

After a few minutes of fucking, he mutters, “I’m sorry.” 

The apology catches you off guard. He’s pulling every weapon out of his arsenal, his velvety words attempting to latch on to you like a leech. 

“I’m sorry about tonight. I’ll make it up to you, okay? I promise.”

You don’t respond. With your eyes shut, you continue to ride him, letting your second orgasm build up. 

He caresses your cheek again, thumb brushing the soft skin right below your eye. “Baby, please look at me.”

His expression is sincere; there’s warmth in the way he looks at you, affection in the small smile he displays. 

“I’m yours, okay? I’m all yours.”

You’re close. It’s almost over. He’s tugging at your heartstrings like he never has before. But this time, it’s not enough. You’re not falling for it anymore.

“I promise you; everything is going to be okay,” he whispers, kissing your forehead, voice trembling. 

He makes promises just as easily as he breaks them. You’ve lost trust in him completely. His words mean nothing. They no longer have this everlasting hold on you.

Still silent except for the soft whines that escape from your lips, you ride him faster, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth. Take advantage of him the way he has with you. 

“Fuck,” he groans, planting his feet onto the bed and moving his hips in rhythm with your thrusts. “You’re going to make me come, sweetie. Is that what you want?”

You nod into his neck, his hands now holding you in place as he starts pounding into your pussy relentlessly. 

“Okay, baby. I’ll give it to you. I’m all yours. All yours,” he repeats, fucking you until you reach your orgasm, letting the pleasure sweep through you. 

Soon after, he groans a drawn out, “Fuck,” as you feel his hot load fill you up. 

He holds you in his arms, no rush to let you go. Nose pressed into the top of your head, inhaling and exhaling deeply. You savor the steady cadence of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his skin. Letting yourself imagine only for a short moment that this is what could’ve been if it was any different with you two. Nostalgic for a relationship that never really existed to begin with. One that was doomed from the start.

Maybe you’ll meet again in another lifetime. One where it’s genuine. Painless. Easy.  

Just not this one. 

His arms loosen as soon as you initiate movement. You remain silent as you pick your dress off the floor and carry it with you into the bathroom. The knob turned all the way to hot, you wait as the heat from the shower fills the space with a steamy cloud. Stepping in carefully, you let the water rinse any cum and sweat from your body, erasing all traces of Eren. 

When you’re finally cleansed, you dry yourself with a towel and slip into your black dress. Studying your reflection in the mirror, you take a few deep breaths, preparing for your final act. 

~~~

Eren cannot stop smiling.

He’s lying on the bed, palms behind his head, arms splayed out to the sides. Cock glistening with cum. Sheets messy, pillows disheveled all from their love making. He’s in fucking paradise. Whenever they have sex, he always feels on top of the world. Totally and utterly elated. Soaring on Cloud 9. 

The best part is that it’s not Mike who she’ll be spending the rest of the night with. It’s him. Eren is the winner. He gets the prize.

It doesn’t even bother him how he uprooted his buried feelings for her. He’ll blame it on the alcohol, which has since dissipated from his bloodstream nearly an hour ago. Or he’ll blame it on being caught up in their fuck fest. Either way, it seems she’s no longer mad at him. He’s got everything under control.

Several minutes pass before she comes out of the bathroom, wearing her black dress. He stretches his arms out, beckoning her back into bed. “Come here, baby. Let’s cuddle.”

She leans down to collect her heels and purse from the floor. “I’m leaving.”

He grins at her odd joke. “Baby, stop kidding around. Come here.”

“I’m leaving,” she repeats. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The smile fades, his brain slowly processing the words coming out of her mouth. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Eren, I’m ending this. It’s over. You and me. We’re done.”

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End Notes: We’re almost near the end y’all! Thank you for sticking with it! Also, thanks so much for all the comments, messages, likes, and reblogs. I can’t express into words how grateful I am for every single interaction this fic gets. It gives me LIFE! So much love for ALL of you. 💕

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[spencereid-reads]

the language of you | s. reid

wc: 2.1k // warnings: english isn't my first language! an extreme amount of italics, meet-cute, love at first poem sight kinda thing. poems that i found on either google or pinterest. a few swear words, maybe? // a/n: my first time writing for reid and cm in general. i'm in the middle of season 9 and idk where this idea came from. also i don't know anything about poetry, the last quote is as far as my knowledge goes. if you think you know me from my other writing blog no you don't<3but ily also idk if i'll keep writing, i just wanted to post it bc of world poetry day, i think it's a nice coincidence.

i use she/her pronouns//fem!reader in almost all of my fics!

the cold hallways of the university building aren't as big and intimidating as he remembered. and this time, they welcomed him with open arms. he was just a kid when he first set foot here, and now here he was, being invited by a member of his team to teach the young minds of college kids.

spencer reid had never been a great public speaker, sure, he had the qualities of one, but he was also known to ramble on and on about a specific subject if he was interested enough in it, most likely overwhelming and quite often scaring the class attendees.

he followed dr. blake through the crowded halls, she'd invited him along to one of her lectures, she needed someone with vast knowledge about, -well, everything-, and a quick mind, and he was the perfect addition to her classes.

it was weird, being on the other side of the lecture hall, with dozens of eyes set on him as he spoke, he wasn't nervous per se, more... aware of the situation. but luckily the students were focused, paid attention and asked good questions. he considered that a win in his book. without noticing, the 90 minute class was over, and he approached blake after gathering his things and crossing his signature leather bag over his shoulder.

"ready to head back?" he asked.

"not quite, there's a friend of mine giving a lecture next door, it's her first class, actually. thought we'd stop by for a bit, wish her good luck." she said, sliding her black blazer back on.

"sure, what's it about?"

"you'll see. i think you'll enjoy it." she gave him a sly smile, making her way up the steps, he stood there for a second, wondering what the subject might be. there were a lot of things that he enjoyed, physics, math, science.

spencer caught up to her just as she opened the door to the other lecture hall, sliding in behind alex as his eyes adjusted to the change of lighting. compared to the room they'd just left, this felt nothing like a classroom. it felt more like a theater.

the lights were off, the room being lit up by fake candles lining both sets of steps on each side of the room, and he noticed real candles on the front stage, the flames dancing with the subtle change of pressure as a girl, maybe as young as he was, walked on stage. a book in her hand, but she didn't need it, whatever she was saying was from memory, the worlds flowing effortlessly out her mouth.

he stood frozen in his spot, it took him two seconds to recognize and figure out what was going on.

"lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass. what does it matter that i couldn’t keep her. the night is fractured and she is not with me." she recited, eyes closed as she stopped walking, even from his spot at the top of the steps he could see her facial expression, a frown on her face as her eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as if she was the one feeling the pain the author was describing.

neruda. poetry.

spencer had never been the biggest fan of poetry, but maybe he just hadn't found the right person to teach him about it.

what an incredulous thought, someone teaching a subject to genius spencer reid? but he couldn't help but be drawn to the soft voice that spoke with love, sorrow and rhythm.

"my voice tried to find the breeze to reach her. another’s kisses on her, like my kisses. her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes."

she was savoring each word in her tongue, and spencer's ears perked up at every sound that left her mouth.

"wonder boy, come on," alex's whisper brought him out of his thoughts, as he followed her down the candlelit steps to one of the first rows.

how he wished he could've stayed up there, hidden within the shadows, since he couldn't take two steps without his eyes having to find the young lecturer again, slowing down his legs.

but from down there he noticed the way the candles lit her face, casting a soft golden glow, and now he found himself thanking the small flames scattered around the stage.

she threw the two fbi agents a look, a knowing gleam in her eye as she recognized the female doctor. it was fleeting, she didn’t let the interaction distract her from the verses and the words slipping from her lips.

“loving is so short, forgetting is so long,” she breathed the words, barely audible as she felt every syllable in every bone of her body.

as she finished the poem, deafening silence fell upon the room, and spencer realized how quiet the room had been since he arrived, yet her soft voice seemed to fill it effortlessly.

“has anyone here ever felt emotions as strong as the ones depicted in the poem? joy, sadness, anger?” she asked, somehow leaving aside the ‘character’ she’d slipped into as she recited the words written by neruda. “love? has anyone ever experienced this… deep, unshakeable need to absolutely possess someone? to keep them all for your own, locked in a room to look, touch, admire as much as you wish?” she continued, eyes scanning the room, and spencer’s breathing hitched when she placed her eyes on him. “i know how it sounds like, but- poetry and language, is quite possibly the best way to express those intense feelings.”

“what about sex?” a voice from the crowd asked.

“that’s a great way too,” she nodded, laughing along with the class, “but have you ever stood in front of a girl, a boy, a person you truly feel like you’d die for, and told them exactly that? how just the touch of their hand holding someone else’s would rip your soul out of your body, or how you’d swim oceans just to get to hear their laugh one last time? i don’t know about you, but i feel like that’s a hundred times better than sex.” she continued, walking from one side of the stage to the other, using her hands and changing the tone in her voice to emphasize what she wanted to say. “i promise you that by the end of this semester you’ll be able to put all of that into your own words. read, everyone. please, read and do your research, and i promise you that you’ll get your chance to be neruda, dickinson. anybody can be a poet. poetry is about feelings, thoughts, the things that keep you up at night, and being able to put all of that into words. read, even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, but think about what they want to say. i know it’s our first class but i’ll leave you some work for friday. just pick a poem, learn it and present it here, i want to see what we’re working with. that’s it for today, thank you.” she vowed her head like an actor who’d just finished a play, walking around the stage as she blew the candles off.

“come on, let’s go say hi,” alex stood up, prompting spencer to do the same, and he had to swallow the feelings inside of him. his mind repeating every word the girl onstage had just said. he knew the importance of poetry, he had a few favorite poets, and he knew about all the hard technical work that was behind writing a good poem, but he’d never taken the time to think about the personal aspect of the work.

“dr. blake, great to see you here,” she greeted the older woman, who embraced her in a hug.

“you too. you were great there, no one would’ve thought it was your first time teaching,”

“well, what can i say, i learned everything from you.”

“please, our fields are as far apart as they could be. it’s all thanks to that big brain of yours. which, speaking of, meet dr. spencer reid, we work together.” alex stepped aside, revealing a tall man, hands fidgeting with his leather bag and long strands of hair covering his forehead. alex always had a soft spot for spencer, the young genius reminded her of herself, once upon a time.

“pleasure to meet you, dr. reid,” the young girl smiled at him, offering her hand.

“likewise,” he said, taking her hand in his. alex’s eyebrows raised, she’d been expecting a speech about germs and pathogens but got none.

“so, what’d you think? was it too much? think i scared the kids?”

“today’s youth doesn’t take things too seriously, they prefer one night stands and lack of commitment.” spencer explained.

“think i’m reaching for the stars for trying to get them to channel their emotions and actually feel them?” the young professor asked him, a smile on her face told him that she’d already thought about that.

“not necessarily, studies have proven that people who can feel and acknowledge their emotions are happier, live longer and have better relationships with themselves and others. also, they have more confidence in themselves and can make lasting relationships, but physical and emotional.” he continued, and this time dr. blake spoke.

“so if you do your job right you’ll get lots of people laid,”

“ah, if only i could make that work for me,” she replied, heat creeping onto her cheeks as she looked down. her words made spencer stop breathing.

“i’m sure someone with your wits and… well, you could get anyone you want,” the words slipped out before he could control them.

“sounds easier said than done, but i’ve decided to devote my life to my work and books, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone coming anytime soon to change that. i’m alright with that, life is more than that.” she shrugged her shoulder.

“not enjoyment, and not sorrow, is our destined end or way; but to act, that each tomorrow find us farther than today.” spencer recalled from memory.

“you speak my language, doctor,” the young professor breathed. and the older woman took the opportunity to interfere.

“like i said, genius. you two should talk, he’s got a very interesting brain that i’m sure you’d love to pick,” she reached toward her friend, wrapping her in a quick hug, “i’ll meet you out there, reid, i have a few things to do.” with that she walked out of the lecture hall, leaving the two young brilliant minds together.

“sorry about her, she’s been trying to set me up with someone since we met. i was her t.a back when i was a grad student.”

“you worked with her?” spencer asked, internally rolling his eyes at himself, she’d obviously just stated that.

“yup. i know, how could someone go from linguistics applied in criminology to poetry? it’s a big leap, but… she’s helped me more than anyone in my entire career.” she spoke with fondness in her voice. “anyway, she was right. i would love to pick that brain of yours.” she said, “sorry, that sounded weird, but-”

“no, no, it’s- fine. i- i’d like to talk to you, more, as well.”

“it’s a date, then.” she smiled, even wider when she noticed the slight blush creeping on his cheeks,

“if only i could recollect it, such a day of days. i let it come and go as traceless as a thaw of bygone snow; it seemed to mean so little, meant so much-” spencer started, the words taking over his mind and mouth before he could even think about it.

“if only now i could recall that touch, first touch of a hand in hand- did one but know,” she finished for him.

“i-i,” he started, surprising himself by the way he stuttered. “i don't speak your language, not like you do, not yet. i'm not a poet. but… i want to learn… i want to.”

she breathed out, all the air leaving her lungs, his wild eyes scanned all over her face, not profiling. but learning, taking in her cues, and a pressure left his shoulders when she saw her lips twitching, breaking for a smile.

“i may be the writer, but you'll always be the words.” she took a step toward him, his eyes settling for her own, it helped him calm down. “it's like i said, anybody can be a poet.”

“i-i’ll see you friday?” he said.

“friday?” she raised her eyebrows.

“yeah, you-you said you had to see what you're working with?”

“i do.” she nodded, a playful gleam in her eyes, “i guess i’ll see you friday. we can get coffee, before coming here.” she suggested.

“is that special treatment, professor?” one more time, he surprised himself by the way he spoke to her, like it was the most natural thing to do. we wished it never stopped, he wanted to hear her amused laugh again.

“maybe.” she bit her lip as she laughed.

****

“this could be the start of something new, and it feels so right to be here with you.”

-high school musical

#i finished this a few days ago #i didn't know if i wanted to post it #but #i just read that today is world poetry day #and wow #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds imagine

[devieuls]

The way of love pt.VIII

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Fem Reader (Na'vi)

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Reader; SMUT; ANGST; FLUFF; Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; Blood; Spit; Power Play; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; Enemies (because of you, Neteyam treats you well). Aged characters: Neteyam 19 y.o / You 18 y.o. SERIE

Synopsis: After a great loss happened in your family, you are forced to take a role that before did not belong to you, following a path that you will feel like your only in time. Just when you thought you were finally overcoming the loss, your clan shows up with those you blame for the great offense received. You are the daughter of the first Olo'eykte of all clans and are about to take your mother’s place to lead the Tayrangi clan, but first you must follow Neteyam (the eldest son of the man you detest with all your heart) To train him, despite your contempt for the Sullys and everything about them, you inevitably bond with the boy, unknowingly falling in love with him.

CHAPTER WARNING: ///////

Lenght : 4.6k

Notes: I’m praying that you like the series, because it’s getting closer to the end. Leave a comment to make me understand how it’s going, luv u <3

NA'VI WORDS: TANHI: Star; KARYU: Teacher; 'ITE: Daughter; kenten mì kumpay: a sense of being in an environment where you’re prevented from acting naturally or doing what you want to do; nga yawne lu oer: i love you

Character Cast: NEY'NARI: Your dead sister; IKEYNI: Your Mother; TSENTEY: Your Father; YÌMKXA: Your Ikran; ULEYTE: Your bestie; TUL'PEY: Your future Mate

PART: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

"Does she know?" Lo'ak’s tone became serious for a moment. "No, not yet. I’ll tell her about that when the time comes. " "Our father will skin you alive,bro" said the youngest. " Probably…" The conversation turned to the end.

You had taken a basket of Spartan fruit and steamed Teylu; you would have liked to hear the conversation between Lo'ak and Neteyam but most of the words were a mix of Na'vi and that language you couldn’t understand. When you were ready you came out of the hut, you looked at the boys with a slight blush on your face. "I took what I came looking for… please, take the water…" You whispered with a thread of voice as you passed the two boys. You could see out of the corner of your eye that Neteyam had tried to touch your elbow when you passed in front of him, but he retracted his hand after his brother’s gaze fell on him. You didn’t give much importance to this detail, taking it for granted that he had made this choice in order not to make you feel further uncomfortable with his brother. When you returned to your family’s hut you noticed that your mother and Neytiri kept talking about some strange event they had faced when they were young; Jake arguing with your dad about warrior stuff while the one you recognized as Tuk and Kiri were talking to each other. You put the basket on the table and then you were invited by the little one to sit with her and her sister, at the beginning you were reluctant to approach them but then you had the courage to sit down with them; Kiri hadn’t looked at you most of the night while Tuk was anxious to meet you.

"I’m Tuktirey! You’re Neteyam’s friend, aren’t you? Your hair is so beautiful, wow!" the voice of the little girl was ringing but pleasant to listen to as she touched some of your braids, admiring the small jewels that were wedged between them. "I love your clothes and your jewelry! You are really beautiful, y/n!" she continued, making genuine and sincere appreciations on every part of you, only to be stopped by Kiri who could feel your slight embarrassment as you thanked little Tuk. "Tuk, if you keep this up, she’s gonna run like a hawk" said the girl who must have been about your age, as she touched Tuk’s braids, making her peel off slightly from you. "I am Kiri, but I think you know us at least by name, Neteyam never misses the opportunity to talk about us" her eyes rolled as if she already knew that 100% he had done it, in fact she was right. "Coincidentally he did it just today, It’s not like we had a lot of time together outside of class hours or formal events," you bit the corner of your mouth slightly as your eyes fell on the floor. Kiri noticed that there was something deeper, but remained silent to not make you uncomfortable, after all she had just met you.

At that moment the two young Sullys also entered the hut with some Dapophet leaves that contained the water all of you would need for the long night. The lanterns that were placed inside the hut began to light up with the arrival of the eclipse of the day, while the two boys took their seats near you and the two sisters.

Neteyam sat between you and Tuk, often holding her when she needed the affection of his older brother. You found out that Tuk was particularly close to Neteyam, you could tell by how she whined at the thought of going back to the Omatikaya clan without her brother, and how she complained that Lo'ak couldn’t braid her hair like Neteyam, or by her laments for how Lo'ak always prohibited her from following him into the woods. It softened you the dynamic between them, you could see yourself so much in Tuk, at least 'the old you', the one a little rebellious and mischievous, but endured by the older sister. You also laughed at the way Lo'ak was reprimanded by Kiri when he said something extremely stupid or when he appeared in the stories as a powerful warrior. After a long time you felt happy, you no longer had the burden of thinking about tomorrow or your duties, In one night, your shoulders shook thanks to those who until last month considered 'demons'. The thing that left you most enchanted was how Neteyam smiled and tried to keep all three brothers quiet, almost like a father to them. When it came your turn to speak you found yourself bickering with Neteyam, as he was too modest to be complimented on his skills or improvements; Sometimes you two find complaining and contradicting eachother about some funny scenes that happened while you were training, like the fact that he almost drowned that morning while trying to stay under the water as long as possible.

Suddenly Tuk opened her mouth to talk, drawing your attention. "Neteyam, you and y/n are mated? Becaus-" Lo'ak plugged Tuk’s mouth with Teylu, getting a tender pout from the little girl. "Tuk, you’re talking too much, eat something" Lo'ak said embarrassed as Neteyam blushed and looked slightly away as he scratched the back of his head. "No, just friends. We’re just friends, Tuktirey" you said smiling, while Lo'ak held back a smile that was certainly containing a laugh. Your eyes shook him in the moment, while Kiri had managed to connect the dots in her mind. Kiri looked first at Neteyam and then at you, noticed how the brother swallowed in embarrassment and tried to hide the blush on his cheeks, and how you looked at Lo'ak badly for his expression and embarrassed smile. The marks on Neteyam’s chest and the small scratches behind his back, and then he noticed some hickeys in the upper thigh and closer to your intimacy. She nodded in silence, while a dark veil covered her face after realizing, feeling bad for you, since most likely you did not know yet. "Friends? You seem so close though" Tuk said with his mouth still full, as Lo'ak sighed with relief as he hadn’t mentioned that little detail that only Neteyam could have told you. "is because I am his Karyu, in this month he spent more time with me because of the lessons that with the other Na'vi of the village" Neteyam’s head nodded agreeing.

The evening continued along the same lines: funny stories, Tuktirey insisting that you and Neteyam were a couple, Lo'ak and Neteyam trying to silence her in their strange language and Kiri maybe contemplating death and then talking to you gently. Towards the end of the evening, the Sullys went to sleep in Neteyam’s hut, as they would leave the next day late in the afternoon. You were happy to have met the Sullys, you had discovered how they were simply Na'vi with their flaws and merits; it made you laugh as Jake seemed so trained when Neytiri spoke over him or corrected his grammar, you found them tender… Now that you were lying in the part of the hut dedicated to you, you couldn't help but smile as you looked out of the window hole, still lying on your carpet, talking quietly to the stars and the wind. This was something you often did when you needed to vent both positively and negatively, it made you feel so close to your sister, and you hoped she would hear you tell her about your experience with the Sullys. A gentle breeze came into your room and made you smile, thinking it was Ney'nari’s answer, interpreting that breeze as your sister’s encouragement to move on and continue to bond with that family you were afraid of before and disgusted with.

"Y/n… y/n, are you awake?" a voice coming from outside made you get up from the ground and look out the window, and then notice Neteyam looking for something on the ground, as to hit the window to attract your attention. "I’m awake. What are you doing here at this hour?" you said noting the late hour. Neteyam’s face rose and smiled as he looked out the window. "I told you, I can’t sleep if you don’t say good night, Ma Tanhì," his voice was slightly lowered, so as not to attract the attention of sleepers in the village. He approached your window, albeit slightly higher from where he was. "Skxawng, go to sleep. If they found you there they would skin you" you whispered, trying to make your voice heard only to him. You had to hold back a smile for that gesture as foolish as it was sweet, which had particularly impressed you. "Then say good night, so I have quiet dreams." His eyes chained to yours, watching the little smile that was born on your face. "Goodnight, 'Teyam," you said quietly as you put your cheek on the palm of your hand, noting how happy and uplifted Neteyam seemed after your words. "Good night, ma eywa," you blushed when he called you "Eywa," you didn’t expect it and he knew it. He looked up to you as you smiled like a carefree child thanks to him. After seeing you smile like this, he would surely have had more than golden and serene dreams.

Your gaze fell on him again, his eyes open as he watched you as if you were his entire universe, so much love in those golden eyes that made you blush and smile. You looked at each other in silence for a few minutes, while he was mimicking you with sweet words that you could understand even without hearing his voice. "ma eywa, sweet dreams… nga yawne lu oer" The boy’s voice made all the love and adoration he felt for you, making you smile. You sent him a kiss with your hand, which he took theatrically and carried to his heart, doing the same with you before leaving. Now your back was leaning just below the window, while your hands were resting on your chest, at heart level, squeezing that flying kiss that Neteyam had left you. Neteyam had become the cure you needed after all the years you spent hiding your unhappiness from the world; small gestures like these simply brought you closer to that precipice that was love. You should have been afraid, you were a woman already mated for years, soon the rite of Tsaheylu with Tul'pey would have come, but your mind was poisoned by Neteyam. You fell asleep with a sweet smile on your face, asking Eywa to pass the night quickly so that you could see Neteyam again as soon as possible, you were already missing his sweet touch and scent.

Eywa welcomed you into the dream world and granted your wish, bringing the morning quickly. When your eyes opened, the rays of the two suns hit your face, and for the first time it didn’t even bother you. You got out of bed with a smile on your face and when your parents saw you so sunny they were strangled, they smiled at you and you needed some berries and fruits that they had gone to get from the shed. "Ma'ite, today you shine more than the suns." Your father’s voice made you smile and nod as you savored the sweet juice of the Yovo fruit. "It’s true, what delights your heart so much, ma'ite? We haven’t seen you like this for years." Your mother continued, before passing a hand through your braids and giving you a maternal smile. It was true, Ney'nari’s death had marked you in everything: the smiles were false and if they were true you noticed with how much weakness you held them in face; your character more off and calm to emulate that of your sister, totally making you another person; the way you seemed to sprinkle joy and tranquility made them think for a moment that their sweet, rebellious and old y/n was back. "It’s just a beautiful day, no big deal." You whispered with slight blush on your cheeks as you squinted under your mother’s caresses.

After breakfast, you changed your clothes and rushed out of your hut, hoping to see Neteyam soon. You arrived in front of his hut and welcomed by Tuk, who had apparently just woken up, but did not deprive you of her sweet welcoming smile. "Looking for Neteyam? he went to the village with Lo'ak a little while ago" Her sleepy voice made her even more tender, made you think if Neteyam had the same tenderness as a child. " Thank you Tuktirey" You answered her and then laid a hand on her head, slightly upsetting her braids, while she laughed softly. You thanked Tuk before going to the center of the village to look for the two brothers. You met Lo'ak right away, and he seemed quite insistent on not letting you go looking for Neteyam, not understanding why he was so ambiguous. "Lo'ak, please, let me go find Neteyam" you said gently, repeating yourself several times before abruptly departing from him, following the sound of two voices, one of which sounded vaguely like Neteyam’s. Once you got to where the voices came from, you could distinguish Neteyam’s shoulders and back, but not with whom he was speaking, even though the female voice was unequivocal. "Shit, I tried to stop her…" Lo'ak said once he reached you, spinning Neteyam and showing the figure of a beautiful and tall Na'vi, with long black braids adorned with feathers and flowers typical of the forest; Her clothes were obviously well-made, and you could tell she was of a high status other than that she was definitely a warrior. Your eyes passed from her to Neteyam, failing to understand who Na'vi was close to him.

"Who's she?" Your voice was slightly absent as you looked Neteyam in the eye, looking for sincere answers, but reading only embarrassment and fear in those golden pools. "'Teyam, w-who is she?" you repeated again, not understanding why he didn’t answer right away, and why he wasn’t reassuring you "MaTanhì… she is…" His voice was broken as he searched for words he could not find. Your heart beat in your throat as you felt Lo'ak gently take you by the wrist, as if to take you away from there. "His mate. I am Reyin'al te Sxeke Ninat'ite…" Replied proudly the woman who before was behind Neteyam and who now wrapped her hands around his arm. "… Tsakarem of the Omatikaya" The surprise crept into your gaze, your eyes widening in disbelief before the stark reality that was revealed before you. "Tsakarem of the Omatikaya…" You yanked your wrist from Lo'ak’s grip, as if to get rid of it. Your heart seemed to have stopped like your breath, your eyes that were before on the woman, now they returned to the face of Neteyam who did not have the courage to look at you.

All the happiness that was before in your body evaporated like water under the scorching sun, your eyes went out of disbelief and it hurt you that Neteyam now didn’t even look you in the eye, giving you a tacit statement to what the girl had said. You would have wanted him to say 'No, it’s a misunderstanding' or something to cheer you up, but he didn’t. You searched in vain for his gaze for endless seconds, and then you tightened your jaw and nodded at the Na'vi who answered you, and then you turned around and left as your heart fell apart. You heard footsteps behind you following you, but you didn’t turn around for a second, because you knew if the steps were Neteyam’s, you would collapse in front of him. You found yourself immersed in a whirlwind of emotions as you ran away from him, a tumultuous tornado that tore your soul apart. A wave of pain swept over you, like a fist to the chest that left you breathless. Your heart, first filled with joy, broke into a thousand pieces, leaving a deep wound burning inside you while. The feeling of emptiness warmly welcomed you, as if something essential had been ripped from you. Anger enveloped you like a burning fire, a flame that blazed in the depths of your being. The bitterness is mixed with tears running across your face, cursing you for not being strong enough to hold them. The confusion struck you, and along with it the overlapping questions in your mind, looking for an answer that can make sense of what you heard. You felt lost in a maze of conflicting emotions, unable to find a way out. Sadness envelops you, a heavy mantle that oppresses you and makes you feel deaf to the words of the boy who was following you. Your world has fallen with such speed that even your certainties were dissolved.

A warm hand but too strong to be Neteyam’s kept you from running away. Once you turned to the owner of the hand you noticed that the person who followed you was Lo'ak, and a sense of desolation covered your face. "Y/n… I tried to-" Lo'ak’s voice snapped when he noticed your shiny, slightly red eyes, immediately realizing he had no excuse. " He would have told you… he was waiting for the right moment." He said before he looked away from you, lest you feel uneasy at the tears that streaked your face without your will. You swelled your chest several times, trying to regain the gift of the word, which had been taken away from you by that storm of emotions that had exploded in you. " Isn’t it too late for that? He had plenty of time to talk to me about her." Your broken voice made an idiot hear the boy in front of you, as if anything in his brother’s defense would be in vain. "Y/n.. I understand, I tried to keep you from looking for Neteyam because of that, because I knew he wanted to talk to you first," he continued, letting go of your wrist. "If so, he would be in your place now." Your tone was sour and poisonous, to this statement of yours Lo'ak did not know how to respond without looking like a complete idiot.

He knew you were right, you were absolutely right to feel that way and to be angry. Before he snapped to follow you, the look of Neteyam watching you leave gave him the courage to do what his older brother couldn’t. He was sure Neteyam would tell you, he wasn’t a liar, you could trust him and his word, but Reyin'al’s sudden arrival had ruined all the plans. Neteyam had never loved Reyin'al, they had grown up together, known by the whole clan as the two strongest and most admirable warriors, Mo'at had paired them from an early age saying that their union would bring greatness to the Clan. Despite this, Neteyam had always seen Reyin'al more as a friend than a mate, he had grown up with the love stories of Neytiri and Jake and dreamed of meeting his soulmate like them. He had always felt too close in that relationship, so much so that he had never really tried to make it work, he wanted to try 'true love', fight to meet it and have a sweet ending like his mother’s. Neytiri had always supported his son’s dream, clashing with Jake who agreed with the decision of the elderly Tsahik, reminding him several times that she was destined for another man but still chose her partner. And Neteyam had finally figured out how his mother felt about her father when he saw you, falling in love with you day by day.

"Just yesterday he was under my window, sending me kisses and sweet words, and then…. receiving this poisoned knife. Don’t tell me you’re gonna tell me because I don’t believe a word of it." You hissed before you walked away from Lo'ak, hearing him say something remotely like "Kenten mì kumpay…" Blood was boiling in your veins for trusting him. The pain spread in you like a fire burning in your chest, a feeling of weight that oppresses your breath. Every beat of your torn heart seems to recall the bloody wound that made you lose your breath, a excruciating pain that spreads in every fiber of your being. Feeling you vulnerable as your knees found peace on the grass, near the precipice where it faced the sea.

A reluctant hand landed on your shoulder as you growled. "Lo'ak, go away." Your tone was high, it was releasing all the pain that was building up in you. "Ma Tanhì… I-" You walk away from that delicate touch as if you were struck with burning iron when you realized that voice belonged to Neteyam and not to Lo'ak.

Neteyam had found the strength to follow you and his brother only after a few minutes of derealization and shame, but when he managed to reach you you were already gone and it was Lo'ak who showed him the way to find you. His remorseful look was on your back, hoping to see your face and explain the situation. "Go.away." You spelled it with clenched teeth, giving him your back as you wiped away tears that seemed not to want to stop coming out of your eyes. He swallowed, taking a long breath to start talking. "Ma Tanhì… let me just explain, please" His voice was broken as he tried to explain himself, seeking your consent to speak. You rose from the ground and looked him in the eyes with contempt and disappointment, your shiny and slightly swollen eyes destroyed him more than your words could. You shook your hands in a fist to try to condense your anger as Neteyam’s gaze became increasingly guilty.

"Explain? What do you want to explain. You have a partner and you didn’t tell me." Your words hit her skin like arrows. "You knew about Tul'pey, and you didn’t tell me about that 'Reyin'al'." Your voice was filled with hate as you yelled at him against words that scratched his skin and soul. "I wanted to-" you stopped him with a wave of your hand, and then growled at him. " You lied. You lied and deceived me." Neteyam’s jaw twitched as he listened silently. "You made promises." You started pushing him backwards.

The tension was now palpable in the air, not the usual pleasant tension, a destructive and cramped. Your eyes burn with anger and disappointment, your hands hit hard on his chest making him back, trying to vent all his frustration and pain in one blow. Driven by the anger and wound that had crept into your heart, you struck his chest at other times, letting each blow be a cry of protest against his actions. Each punch, slap or push was accompanied by sharp words, screams of pain and growls that intertwined with your anger. But unlike Tul'pey, Neteyam accepted your desperate cry and took each blow in silence, letting you vent on his body if it would help you feel better. "I hate you. I hate you, Neteyam. I hate you with all my heart," you yelled at him in the face as you held back every tear, as your fingers sought a foothold on him, scratching his chest before pushing him again. He wanted to hug you and let you cry over him, but he understood that now your wound was still fresh and bleeding brutally.

"I want you to leave. Now. Never come back. Go away with your parents today. I don’t want to see you again." You said to then walk away from him, while your hands were still shaking from the rush of emotion that passed through your body. "Go away. Take away your promises and your partner. I put myself at risk for you…. and you ruined everything! " This time Neteyam’s hand approached you, and then was struck by your hand. "Everything I said, I really meant it. Every promise, every compliment, everything was true… She's not you. I never wanted her, I want you, ma Tanhì…" Your eyes still looked at him with disgust as your heart betrayed you by beating so hard for those words. " You lied. You’re a liar. I don’t believe you." You answered with clenched teeth, before screaming to relieve the tension. "I didn’t lie to you… please, ma Tanhì, listen to me." His voice was broken as he tried to get close to you, being rejected. He felt guilty, he promised never to make you cry again, love you and make you happy, but now he was holding in his hands the pieces of your broken heart. "Go away. I said you have to go away!" You yelled at him, his eyes lowered to the ground. He didn’t know whether to listen to your request and let you go or be deaf to your voice and insist on his position.

Neteyam took a deep breath, approaching you and taking your arms, looking you in the eye. "Ma Tanhì, listen to me and if you want I’ll leave. I never wanted to be with Reyin'al, we have been mated all our lives, without choice. I fell in love with you, just you and every aspect of you. I feel horrible, a monster, seeing that I hurt you so much, it was not my intention… I swear to Eywa" A tear twisted Neteyam’s face and laid his forehead on yours. You took a deep breath, repressing all those feelings sent from your still bleeding heart and growled at him. " I would have told you, I swear, I would have… Reyin'al came unannounced and ruined everything, believe me. Let me fix this… I-" "Do not touch me. Don’t touch me anymore." You said growling, then try to get away from his grip. "I'm begging.. Don’t reject me" he whispered in a tone of voice that died in his throat and let all his pain shine through, but also the desire to keep you close. "Go to your partner. Just go." you made sure to spell the words, then feel his hands let go and hesitate before leaving. " Go. GO AWAY!" you yelled at him again, clenching your jaw and struggling with the conflicting feelings that were being born in you.

It was clear that Neteyam wanted to continue the speech, you could read it in his face: his shiny eyes that hesitated on your hands and then your eyes, as his jaw twitched, the way his tail sent you specific signals, or the way his voice died in his throat. He accepted your request and disappeared into the forest, while you dried your tears and your hands spoke the cold ground beneath you, as if to seek some comfort. You wanted him to stay, but at the same time you wanted him to leave; to kiss you, but you wanted to hurt him, to hear his words, but you were deaf. You spent a few hours in that place, letting nature embrace and welcome you, remembering that you could ask for advice and receive comfort from your sister by making Tsaheylu with one of the voices trees that was placed just a short distance from there. You needed guidance and someone who understood your emotions, so who better than your sister to help you figure out the way to go?

#neteyam suli x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n #avatar ff #neteyam fic #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fluff #avatar neteyam #avatar smut #avatar #avatar x you #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar x na'vi reader #ThewayofloveNeteyam #Mel's Neteyam Garden #Mel's Avatar Garden

[domxmarvel]

Masquerade ball

Masterlist

Order: 9

large green apple tea with a macaron 

Malleus x Female!Reader-Masquerade ball/Ball @h3110-dar1in9

“What that?”

“I got invited to a Masquerade ball in the rose kingdom” Your parents had told you about the ball and said that they’d be sending invites the week before,but it was difficult to get the details of everything through just letters. You didn’t even know that they even considered Malleus,there was peace between your kingdoms so it wasn’t like they invited him to form some sort of peace agreement.

“Are you planning on attending?”

“It’s only polite to do so,I wouldn’t want to disturb the peace or seem rude. I’ll attend but I’ll only be there long enough to make a good impression. I know most people don’t want me there and they only invited me to be polite or because they felt like they had to”

“Isn’t it a masquerade ball? No one will know it’s you,you can just let go for one night and have fun”

“I could,but that wouldn’t be very princely of me” You just sighed,he was always so proper with his royal duties. Now the only thing left was to figure out how to tell him that your parents were the ones throwing this ball. 

***

You ended up stalling to the point where you never told him,now you were back home and still haven’t told him. The night of the ball you found yourself still thinking about Malleus,trying to spot him among the many men. Which shouldn’t be difficult since he was very tall and his horns made him hard to lose in a crowd,despite that you couldn’t see him anywhere. A part of you thought he had backed out and wasn’t going to attend,until you noticed how the crowd began to shift to the side. Parting to let someone through,there in the middle of the crowd you saw Malleus. He walked all the way to the throne where you parents were sitting,he bowed and thanked them for the invite. It was strange to see him like this,he seemed like he was playing a character,fitting into a role rather than being who he really was. You made your way closer when you noticed your father gesture for you to come near,you stood in front of Malleus who didn’t seem to recognize you. 

“Perfect now we can start the ball” The music started and Malleus offered you his hand,which you took and he immediately kissed the back of your hand. He led you to the dance floor,you noticed how everyone was backing away from him,no wonder he didn’t want to be here. It was only a few minutes in but you could already see that he wanted to leave,the music stopped and he pulled away from you.

“Could you please let me know where the balcony is or the garden,I need to step out for some air” He was trying to separate himself from everyone else,but he didn’t want to be rude by leaving after less than 15 minutes.

“Sure,follow me. I need some air too” You led him to the balcony in silence,not knowing how to tell him. The last ten minutes were full of silence,neither of you saying anything. This was your chance to tell him before he figured it out himself.

“Malleus” He turned to you as you took off your mask “I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how to bring this up” He took off his mask as well,even though he didn’t have to. 

“If I knew you’d be here I would’ve prepared to stay longer” 

“I’m sorry about what happened when you walked in,I understand why you didn’t wanna be here”

“I’ll be fine. I’m used to it” The last part broke your heart,well that part that didn’t break the first time when you saw how he was treated. 

“You shouldn’t” 

“It doesn’t matter,I don’t care what others think about me” He moved closer to you,his hand on your cheek “I only care what you think” You tried to reach for his cheek but you only reached his neck,still you managed to pull him down closer to you,kissing him.

“I love you” You broke the kiss for a moment to speak and he managed to answer before you kissed him again.

“I love you too” He suddenly pulled away and put his mask back on,quickly handing you yours. “Someone’s coming” He whispered,you quickly looked towards the door to see one of the guards. 

“Your highness the king’s asking for you”

“Tell him I’ll be right there” He quickly walked off “That was close”

“We should get back before someone else comes looking for us”

“Say are you gonna stay for longer?”

“Now I will”

#malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #malleus fluff #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst

[bettyfrommars]

Stop the World and Melt with You

Part 6: Meet Me in Hawkinsgate

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: A lot will be explained in this part, but there will also be more questions left to ponder. We get a glimpse of reader from the past, another Traveler shows up in Hawkinsgate, and secrets are revealed through a comic we borrow from Dustin. wc: 4.3k

Masterlist

A/N: I've been staring at this for way too long and I just need to post it🙃 This part is bitesize because I feel like there is a lot to take in. If it goes the way I've planned it, we'll have two more chapters after this, and you won't have to wait as long as you did for this one 🧡

18+ONLY, MDNI, this is a mindbender, fear of the unknown, mention of zombies, interdimensional travel, circus freak show, no smut in this chapter but I have a spicy blurb on its way to do with the version of Eddie and Reader introduced in this part.

“Cold-hearted orb that rules the night

removes the colors from our sight

Red is gray, and yellow---white

but we decide which is right

and which is an illusion.”

- Twilight Lament, The Moody Blues

---Somewhere Else---

The Crossroads is a place for various interdimensional Travelers to wait while on the way to their next location or assignment. A place to get their “passport stamps” and figure out which portal they’d need to take to get to where they needed to be. The atmosphere made it feel as if you were conducting business on one of Saturn’s rings; nothing but stars and infinite universe around you. There's a row of doors arranged in an arc, all of which seem to be floating in the air, all with numbers above them. You're waiting to take number 4.

The version of you from another dimension took a turn around, hoping to spot a place to drink at one of the vendors inside the floating establishment. This version of you has a few more visible tattoos scattered from head to foot: each a passport from a parallel universe or pocket of time you have traveled to. It was your job, like all of the other Muses, to bring back inspiration for the Storytellers. There's music playing over the speaker system as you waited; it was an instrumental version of Melt with You by Modern English. The song is interrupted by the tin of an electronic female voice announcing the departure at gate 9.

You’d been staring up at the monitors, checking the time for your portal, but you stepped back in haste, and there he was: the boy you would soon know as Eddie Munson.

You didn’t recognize him but also, you did---in a way you couldn’t explain. The sight of his face knocked over a tiny domino in your soul and the rest went tumbling.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he gave a crooked smile, putting his hands up, palms out. This version of him has strange tattoos as well; a few designs at his temples, lines above one brow, a series of numbers and letters on his throat. He wears a black leather jacket over a shirt that reads: Hellfire Club. “I should watch where I’m going.”

“No, no, it’s my fault,” you stammered. “I’m running late so I was worried---”

“Worried that you’d miss me?” He interjected.

The forwardness of it caught you off guard and you stifle a laugh, tucking your chin. “Something like that.”

You turn back to face the monitors, thinking he’d head off the way he was going—but he didn’t. He stayed close and waited as a group of human and non-human beings passed between the two of you.

“So,” he stepped up closer as the crowd passed, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Of all the Crossroads in all the universes, you walk into mine.”

You turned and gave him a curious look, not understanding what he just said or why he was saying it to you. Your eyes flicked from his tender chocolate orbs, down to his soft lips and back again.

He leaned back, noting your confusion, and tilted his head. “Humphrey Bogart? Casablanca? Of all the gin joints in all the---” he could tell it wasn’t ringing a bell. “Wait, you’ve never watched Casablanca?”

You gave a few tight shakes of your head, a scowl creasing the skin between your eyebrows.

“Oh, sweetheart, we need to fix that,” he patted around in all of his pockets. “Do you have a pen?”

You weren’t sure where this was going, but you were fascinated by him. Muses weren’t allowed to take any form of physical identification with them through the portals—-hence the inked passport stamps that were usually invisible to most non-travelers---and the only things you had on you were gum and lip gloss.

He checked the inside pocket of his jacket and made a sound of triumph. He procured a black, felt tip marker and popped the cap off. “Mind giving me your number? For educational purposes. We can watch Casablanca, and maybe get some decent food back on the mainland. What do you think? Could you stare at this mug while you eat?”

You were reaching for the pen as he talked, and he offered his palm to you. In a line from his pinky to his thumb, you wrote your name and phone number without another word, and then capped the pen and handed it back to him. Eddie watched you; the curves of your face, the way your eyelashes fluttered, the way the tip of your tongue rested on your top lip as you concentrated. He wanted to commit you to memory.

He turned his hand to look at what you wrote, and then met your eyes over his fingers. “Have we met before? You seem so familiar to me.”

He had chunky, silver rings on his fingers, and the air surrounding you felt electric, you could almost taste the tang of the static on your tongue.

“Oh, I think I’d remember you,” you smirked, trying to mask the depth of your attraction to him.

But then a loud chime sounded and the electronic female voice sounded over the platform, letting everyone know that the portal for Gate 4 was opening.

“That’s me,” you swallowed, flushed. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” you quipped, a sudden pain shooting through your chest at the thought of never seeing him again.

Eddie felt flustered, he didn’t want you to go. “Hey, I’ll call you,” he promised, showing his palm. You gave him one last look over your shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. When you stepped over the thresh hold to your portal, you realized you didn’t even know his name.

And you really hoped he could call.

----------

You became aware of your surroundings before you were fully awake enough to open your eyes, trying to hold on to the image of the boy in your dreams as hard as you could---but then he was gone. As intense and real as the “dream” had been, it was now a pin prick of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel, and you tried to squint but then it was gone as soon as your consciousness came to the surface.

It felt so real, though. So real that you tossed in bed with tears wet in your eyes, trying to get it back, screaming into your pillow. The pillowcase that smelled strongly of bleach and a hint of age old body odor embedded deep in the pillow itself.

The dark of night lasted for the next 24 hours in Hawkinsgate, as if it were a movie set and someone forgot to turn the lights on. It was noon, and you were sitting behind the motel reception desk, staring out into the street lights of the dark town. Claudia bustled in with one of her cats in a pink carrier after taking it to the vet. There was a young boy with her who offered you a gappy grin with missing front teeth. He had a trucker hat that sat squished on his head of curls.

You’d been doodling on the inside of the phone book, about to go and put a load of sheets in the dryer, when the boy with Claudia marched right up to you. He was a teenager, but you weren’t sure of the age.

His eyes blew wide. “Is it true you’re one of the Travelers?”

“Dustin,” Claudia called to him as she came around the desk, marching toward the back room.

Nailing you with an enigmatic grin, he pulled a rolled up comic out from under his arm and slapped it on the table. His hands working to smooth out the pages before he pointed to a face on the cover.

“Isn't that you?”

Your eyes hesitated on him before following to where his finger pointed.

The likeness caught you by surprised and made you step back, but you never took your eyes off of it. You held it up, attention flicking over the details in the artwork. It wasn’t you, exactly, but, indeed a version of you: legs wide, arms crossed, exposed skin dotted in tattoos, way more than the few you had now, standing in what appeared to be a desert wasteland with two moons in the sky.

“Where did you get this?” You asked, wondering if someone was playing a trick on you. “Did Eddie put you up to this?”

“Eddie?” Dustin’s generous smile widened, cocking his head. “How do you know Eddie?”

You only handed the comic back when Dustin reached for it. “I’d let you keep it,” he shrugged. “But it’s the newest issue and I haven’t read it yet.”

“No, it’s okay,” you shook your head. “I understand. Could you maybe, tell me what happens in it?”

You could tell that the kid was emotionally mature for his age and he quickly caught on to the source of your distress and took his tone down to more of a calm reassurance. “I’ll just leave it on the desk for you when I’m done, okay?”

A part of you wondered if reading such a thing was a good idea with the fragile state of your blank brain. Dustin came around the back, following after Claudia before she shouted his name again.

“Hey,” you turned to face him now that he was behind the front counter. “Who writes that comic? Do you know?”

“Oh, no one knows,” his face was serious, and then he turned to keep walking.

“Of course no one knows,” you said under your breath. “But, where do you buy them? There must be a way to trace it back to the creator?”

He adjusted the strap of his backpack. “I’m sure there’s a way,” he looked down, thoughtfully. “These issues just show up like everything else around here, but I can ask a few people.”

You told him how much you would appreciate that, and he repeated his disbelief that you also knew his friend Eddie.

---------

That day, another Traveler wandered into the motel; the first one since your arrival. You caught sight of the bright pink hair immediately, followed by the black ink markings from her nose to her throat, and on her hands as well. You scrambled to your feet, eager to make her acquaintance. She was hesitant, her eyes shifting to take everything in, just as you had that first day when you arrived.

The second she saw you, her eyes blew wide, and her mouth dropped open.

She knew your name. “What are you doing here?” She asked, spinning in a circle. “Where are we? Where is Lorelei?”

Your heart started racing and your mouth dried up. “Where do you know me from? How do you have your memories?” You were coming around the desk, racing towards her now. “Who is Lorelei?”

She had on a ripped, threadbare, white tee with no bra and worn jeans. She pulled a knife from the hilt at her hip and held it up. “You’re not safe here anymore,” she warned, eyes darting around as if she expected a monster to come flying out of the walls.

“Not safe from what?” You begged.

The confused look on your face turned to a horrified one when an invisible door slid open behind the pink-haired girl, exposing an infinite blackness, and she turned, jumping threw it as if she knew exactly where it led to.

“No, wait---” you screamed, stretching your arm out as if you could catch her, but then the invisible door slid shut again and there was nothing but air there. You waved your hands frantically around over the space.

--------

Eddie came to meet you on the roof of the motel that night, because you asked him to, because you needed a friend. The roof was angled, but not drastically, with a perfect sitting ledge. You each had pillows behind your heads, laying side by side, knees bent, staring up at the sky.

You were feeling more and more at home in Eddie’s presence; eager when you knew you would get to see him, and fearful when you had to part ways. Even so, you didn’t want to care for him, and tried to push away the feelings at all costs. You could sense him holding back as well; reaching out to take your hand, only to pull away, and swallowing words that hovered on parted lips, left unspoken.

You told Eddie about the pink-haired traveler and he chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“She knew my name,” you mumbled, replaying the short interaction over in your head for the hundredth time that day.

“I’ve seen Travelers come and go that fast,” he said. “One second they’re in front of you, and then they’re gone the next---poof.” Eddie decided not to say out loud what scared him the most, and that was the fact that, once you remembered who you were, you would disappear in the same way. He wondered how quick he’d have to be to dive into the void to go with you. “Maybe she came to give you a message?”

You hadn’t shared with him her message yet, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to. But then you felt the side of Eddie’s hand slide up against yours and you realized you didn’t want to have any secrets from him.

You swallowed back a tickle of emotion in your throat. “She said I’m not safe here anymore.”

In a heartbeat, Eddie took your hand, intertwined his fingers, and pulled it to his side, tucking your arm close. “Hey, that’s not true. You’re safe here with me.”

It was the first time you’d ever held hands, and you could tell he’d been working up the nerve for days. You were grateful for the touch and it made the sides of your mouth dance up, even under the weight of such disturbing circumstances.

Elbows planted, you looked over at your two hands locked together and the dark blue sky full of scattered stars beyond. “I do feel safe with you,” you told him. Even though whatever was happening to you felt much bigger than either one of you could fathom in that moment, and it wasn’t fair to put such a big job on Eddie, you were comforted by the thought.

You scooted closer to him, and placed your head on his shoulder. Eddie brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Why do the stars and the sky look so real?” You asked in a whisper, watching the way the stars flickered, and clouds hovered around the moon.

Eddie turned his head to find your profile. “You still think this is a dream?”

It didn’t feel like a dream, but maybe we all traveled in our dreams to very real places and then forgot it all once we opened our eyes. You hesitated, not sure how to answer him, working your jaw. The air was wet and cool, bright with the smell of rain on concrete and forest pine.

“Sometimes I worry that I’m going to wake up any second and forget this place,” you failed to catch the tremor in your voice. “That I’ll forget you.”

An unexpected tear ran down your cheek, and Eddie felt the wet drop hit the side of his neck.

“Hey,” he said, squeezing your hand, pulling it across his stomach. “Can I tell you what I think?”

“Please?” You urged.

He wanted to tell you about the dream he had about a group of circus people that came through a place called Hawkins, Indiana to set up a show on the outskirts of town. In the dream, Hawkins was his hometown, the place where he had grown up, and it was similar to Hawkinsgate, but also nothing like it. The dream felt so real, he could still smell the popcorn and hear the cackle of the Bearded Lady on stage, beckoning to any passerby. The circus rolled into town on old caravans and rusted cars compiled of junkyard metal. There was a Ferris wheel and various freak shows and a fire-breather and a strong man and a fortune teller. Eddie went with his buddies Gareth, and Jeff, because they wanted to see the clowns on stilts, and maybe get a glimpse of the peep show.

They peeked inside a hole in the red and white tent when they heard the sultry music, just in time to catch sight of a voluptuous blonde woman spinning tassels on her huge breasts before they were shooed away by one of the barkers. He had a fully tattooed face and a metal bar pierced through his tongue.

“Yo, sorry man,” Eddie and the boys held their hands up in a form of surrender, unable to contain their laughter, and the barker spat on the ground at their feet, sneering to show his silver teeth.

Eddie went in to see the psychic in the purple caravan on a dare. The boys teased him and said he wouldn’t, and so Eddie said, “hold my jacket” and made his way inside, through the beaded curtain in the doorway, stopping in his tracks at the sight of the older woman sitting at a round table in front of a crystal ball.

“It’s you,” the older woman said, looking up at him only briefly. She had long gray hair, and her eyes were mismatched: one was bright blue and the other was milky white with no iris or pupil. “I was starting to think you’d never show up.”

“Do I know you?” Eddie looked around the space cautiously, making sure the two were alone. The air was smoky and smelled like the floral dank of incense.

“Please, Eddie, sit,” the woman said in a young voice that did not match her elderly exterior.

Eddie stepped back. “Wait, how do you know my---”

“There’s no time for that,” she interrupted him, shuffling a deck of tarot cards in her hands. Her eyes repeated the gesture of motioning for him to sit. “There’s a lot you need to know and we only have a few minutes.”

Stiffly, Eddie took a seat in the squeaky wooden chair across from her, hoping that the boys were right outside and not back at the peep show without him. She made a clean stack with the deck of cards and set it to one side.

“So,” Eddie’s eyes flicked around after a full minute of silence. “How do we do this?”

The next thing he knew, Eddie was headed outside again, squinting, his head blurry and his eyes dry.

Gareth and Jeff had been giggling over a joke when Eddie stepped out of the caravan and stumbled, his eyes glossy. They got serious immediately and went to help him stand as his knees buckled.

“Damn, what did she do to you?” Gareth frowned, watching Eddie take long blinks and shake his head as if trying to wake up. Jeff looked around nervously, wondering if he should find help. Gareth tried to see in through the beaded curtain, but it seemed like the old woman was gone and the caravan appeared empty.

When Eddie stepped out, he felt like everything was the same, but also very different. He was still in Hawkins, but there was something...off about it. The boys asked him over and over what the old woman told him, but he couldn’t remember, he just knew he felt woozy. His stomach growled and he figured it was because he was hungry.

The next morning, after the dream---the visions of you started. The dreams, the whispers, the way he knew every inch of your body, every mole, every tattoo, even though he’d never seen you naked before; not in this reality, anyway. He stepped over a torn front page of the Hawkinsgate Gazette in the grass in his dream, and he stopped to pick it up, wondering why the name Hawkingate looked so familiar, but also so wrong.

There on the roof of the motel, Eddie wanted to tell you that he’d been thinking and dreaming about you ever since.

After that, the other Travelers started showing up in Hawkinsgate. Just like you, they were plopped there without much of a memory of where they came from, and seeing them around became normal as well. The entire town seemed to be designed around them in fact, as if Hawkinsgate was an airport from which people took off to their various destinations.

Every time he heard about a new Traveler in town, he went looking, hoping to find you. He was about a week away from losing hope when you showed up at the gas station that day in tears.

The one he had been waiting for and pining over this whole time.

Eddie wanted to tell you all of that on the roof of the motel when you started to cry.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Eddie asked and you begged him to tell you something, anything that was remotely comforting.

He slid his fingers up and down between yours before intertwining them again. “I’m not sure why or how I know this, but no matter where you go, you’ll always have me. If this is a dream and you wake up, I’ll be waking up with you.”

---------

You finally got your hands on the comic book with your likeness on the cover and hurried back to your motel room on your lunch break so you could lock the door and dissect it in peace.

The woman who looked like you in the drawings was apparently a Muse who worked for a group of people called The Storytellers. You had a gift for collecting inspiration and experiences in other dimensions and worlds and passing them on. The amount of knowledge your character had acquired through her journey was vast. She knew how to speak several languages, she knew karate, knife throwing, chess. She knew how to cook French dishes you didn’t even know how to pronounce. There was another Muse in the comic named E who looked remarkably like your Eddie. Long hair pulled back, a loose strand hanging down his cheekbone.

In the comic, your character and E had traveled through many dimensions together, and you were on the run from a group of lizard people called The Kreel. They were reptilian in nature with a human appearance, but for their lizard eyes that flicked out of their human lenses every so often. They did not emote and they did not experience compassion, and they were waging a war with the Storytellers, so that the Kreel could control all creative consumption. The Kreels wanted all of the powers of the creators for their purposes alone; to create worlds that would benefit them only.

Your character and E had jumped from dimension to dimension, from world to world, gathering inspiration for the Storytellers, while simultaneously evading The Kreel.

The final page of the comic book left you with a cliffhanger: in modern day, in a quiet dessert town off the grid in New Mexico, The Kreel found the location where you were your character resided, and were closing in. You were supposed to meet E that night, when he was back from his recent trip, but there was no time to get a note to him. The next best thing you could do was go through the portal to Hawkinsgate and wait for him there.

Hawkinsgate was the safe haven; a place undetectable to Kreels. It was created by a group of Storytellers when the war began.

You typed the location of the portal into the gps on your phone.

With a tight blink of concentration, you imagined a hoard of zombies into existence to block the The Kreel from you in their masses, while you made your escape.

You watched the home you loved disappear in a cloud of dust in your rear view mirror, as a van full of lizard Kreel soldiers went to battle with the flesh eating zombies in their haste to get to you.

The character that looked like you in the comic book wailed and sobbed, driving away as fast as they could, fearing they’d never see E again.

You frowned at the page as you finished reading, your lungs starving for air after holding your breath for so long.

At the very end, your character reminded herself in thought bubbles that she’d lose her memory once she breached the Hawkinsgate portal. The Kreel could pinpoint brainwaves when a creative’s thoughts were particularly active, so everything had to be wiped clean for their safety. The girl in the story cried again, thinking about how she wouldn’t remember E, and how she hoped he’d show up there too, just like they had planned.

But, they wouldn’t know each other.

“Meet me in Hawkinsgate,” alone in your motel room you felt the warm breath against your ear, heard the words as clear as day. It was Eddie’s voice, and it sounded like he was right there next to you. “Meet me in Hawkinsgate….”

You jumped up off the bed and threw the magazine, making it land against the wall with a smack before it fluttered to the floor, landing face down. You were panting, trying to find your breath, a whimper escaping the back of your throat. You could feel the emotions building hot behind your eyes.

And then, you screamed.

#Eddie Munson #Stop the world and melt with you #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson series #eddie munson x reader #twilight zone #mystery #sci-fi