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astroboots · 11 months

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.

Word count: 3,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.

That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.

I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.

Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.

Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.

It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.

It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.

You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'

Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.

What the hell.

That was entirely unnecessary.

You didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.

Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?

Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window.

And then he saved you.

Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.

You replay the memory. Again.

The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.

He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.

What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?

For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.

Spider-man...

Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.

Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.

Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.

With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.

Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.

Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.

You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are.

The office.

There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.

Is this the life you managed to escape death for?

Is this it?

It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).

The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.

You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.

You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.

A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.

Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.

There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.

But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.

A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.

The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you.

There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.

A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."

Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up.

“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.

"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."

You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.

Spider-man...

In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.

He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).

A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?

When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.

'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'

You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.

Rude.

The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.

They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.

You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.

And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.

A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.

A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.

A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.

Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.

On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."

It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too.

You take the cupcakes.

It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.

You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.

But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction.

When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door.

It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.

The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.

It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.

You are going to make this goddamned train.

Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.

You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.

In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks.

Oh god why...

Why?

You just want to live.

The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.

Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.

You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.

In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.

Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.

Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.

There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.

But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.

Is this the rest of your life?

In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.

Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.

Fuck.

It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.

God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?

You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.

What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.

Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.

There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.

Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set.

Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop.

You didn’t put that there.

You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.

It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.

It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?

You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.

Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.

Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.

Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.

Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.

There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one.

Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.

You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.

"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you.

“And the cupcakes," you add.

There's no reply.

~ To be continued.

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#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #oscar isaac #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

2K notes · View notes

highhhfiveee · 5 months

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please i need some dubcon mike schmidt ..,,, like he picks up drunk reader from a party n takes her home n fucks her throat ..,,, ‘you’re so easy to control when you’re all stupid like this’ ..,,, she’s got tears streaming down her face n she’s clawing at his thighs but he just holds her head in place n strokes her hair n tells her how good she’s making him feel ,,

okay okay okay. shiver me fuckin timbers lmaoooo. this is so brothersbestfriend!mike. switched it up a little but i hope you still enjoy! [had this set to post at 12 but tumblr failed me lmao]

sangria

tags: brothersbestfriend!mike, fem!reader, intimate touching, choking, wild dick sucking, deep throating, spitplay, degradation, dubcon (reader is plastered, and while she does consent to be taken advantage of, she is still under the influence); mike is such a protector and i'm starting to think that this is megasub!reader x protector!mike in addition to bbf! [let me know if i missed anything + this has been proofread but there’s always still a chance for mistakes lmao]

link to the original fic, mimosa, here 🍹, and the first part of the finale here, tequila sunrise, here 🍸

okay, so maybeeeeeee you two didn't actually get caught that day.

you’re panting in each other’s faces as you come, clean yourselves off, and exit the shed like your brother's best friend hadn't made you squirt all over the garden tools and pool supplies.

the feeling of mike's come pooling in your bikini bottoms makes you tingly all over again, and you're squirming while you both ease your way back into the fold of cookout attendees, diverting into separate paths so no one can catch onto your attachment; clandestine and kept between the eyes, lips, and bodies of you two only.

you'd wished mike nothing but hell while you were away at school, doing anything you could to get the thought of him out of your head. even though you'd been the one to catch feelings, you never wanted him to have any part of you ever again, restricting him from you.

you'd wanted him erased from the entire galaxy then, but from the cookout forward, nothing excited you more than the thought of being mike’s plaything. you snuck around with him more than you should've; giving him handjobs in the backseat of his car, letting him eat you out in your bedroom with the door open---risky things that made your heart pound with adrenaline and need, a rush to the very end.

you could only get that feeling with mike. it made you sick to your stomach with taboo butterflies, fantasizing about all the ways he could have you thrashing, eyes rolling back, toes curled until your feet cramped.

he'd hooked you on him once again, and this time, he'd decided to go with the flow. he wasn't pursuing anything with anyone else, and feelings had begun to bloom in him. nothing like love, he'd told himself (even though your flirty smile made his heart palpitate before making his dick hard), but like...safeguarding.

you were young, unversed with life, vulnerable; mike could see people taking advantage of you, mistaking your soft, impish act for total naivete. even though he'd hurt you himself, he'd never allow anyone else to treat you that way, or put you in a situation to harm you. there was this urge in him to keep you safe, keep you protected from the mean world that ate girls like you for breakfast.

mukrrrrrrrrrrrr

molwwwwwwwwww

gahdmn i cant tYpe LoL

exhibit a.

y/n are you drunk

….

………..

…………………………….

y/n

4 F R E E dwinks

downnnnnnnnn thw hATCH

pArTyz rool xp

mike's about to ask about your location when your picture floods his screen, phone vibrating in his hand with a call. he answers it with a displeased, "where are you?

"she’s at 8203 harrington circle," someone yells over loud, bass-riddled music and scattered conversations. mike hopes it's a friend of yours, and not a complete stranger. “she was fine, but i think that fourth drink tipped her over!"

mike's been putting on clothes and grabbing for his keys and wallet since your first text message, already sulking to his car as your friend finishes her statement. "stay with her and keep her upright, i'll be there in fifteen."

he can't get rid of the deep scowl etched on his face while he drives, both hands clasped tensely on his wheel at ten and two. he wants you to have fun, of course. he isn't going to tell you not to go to parties, or not to drink---you’re your own person, and he has no right to tell you what you could and couldn't do, but something about you utterly hammered around so many people you probably don't know makes his heart pound against his ribcage with agitation.

harrington circle was a street on a state school campus, one that you'd opted not to go to all that time ago. maybe you'd known some people there, but mike was sure you didn't know your way around, where to go if something went wrong...

he pulls up to a tall, red brick house smack dab in the middle of a cul-de-sac, immediately throwing his car in park and exiting when he sees two girls walking alongside a guy carrying you out the front doorway. he has his hands hooked under your armpits, pushing your boobs together and "covertly" staring at your amplified cleavage as he leads you down the short stone path.

your head lulls back a little, and you're smiling up at the sky with your eyes closed and your cheeks flushed to death. your legs drag under you, and mike's quick to grab for your waist, removing you from that perv's grasp with haste and a grimace.

you droop into him, body leaden with alcohol, and he slides one arm under the back of your knees, bending his own to lift you into a bridal style hold.

you squeal as he turns away from the house, throwing your arms around his neck and dreamily sighing at the way his hands feel carrying you, strong and vigilant and possessive. "mikeeeeeee," you mewl, pulling yourself into him so you can nudge at the column of his throat. your words are slurred almost beyond comprehension, and he commands one of the girls to open the passenger door so he can ease you inside.

he sets you down in the seat, or at least tries to, whispering, "let me go" when you keep your arms wrapped around him. the position has him hunched over, and it hurts his back so badly, but you whimper, "nooooo, want you close" while nearly making him trip and fall across you, splaying his entire body over yours. he smells so good, all warm and musky and mike, and you don’t want to separate from him.

"y/n, please. i wanna get you home," he reaches back to wrench your arms off of him, placing them in your lap and closing the door before you can complain. he walks around the front to the driver's side, monotonously thanking the girl who'd helped you as he grumpily enters the car.

he grabs for your seat belt, stretching it across your torso as he does his own and drives away from the annoyingly illuminated house and party commotion in silence.

you're so gone, but even drunk, it's unsettling to you how quiet mike is, keeping his eyes focused on the road without a hint of a glance or a word to you. his jaw is clenched deeply, and he's stiff as a board against his seat, so opposite from his usual sullen, suave nonchalance. you frown at him, fingering with your strappy, well-tied sandals. "hey, grumpy,"

"not grumpy," you huff at his tone, sour and unwavering, and wiggle your toes as you finally free them from the entrapment of footwear. "i'm fine."

"you've gotten very, very bad at lying," you demur. your head slacks again, but this time against your headrest. you ogle mike through the film in your eyes, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. "mad at me?"

mike writhes in his seat, his jaw muscles flexing at your coy lilt. you know how to manipulate him with your words, sweetening them in just a way that would have mike bending to your will. the way you're gazing at him with your big, unfocused eyes makes him makes him press down on the gas a bit harder.

"i'm not mad," he mutters, all pseudo-nonconfrontational and collected, but you know that he's not telling the truth. something about the circumstances bothers him, and you want to know why. the car comes to a stop at a red light, mike shaking his head as he scrunches his face and rubs his eye with a knuckle. "forget about it."

"i won't. don't like me having fun without you?" he doesn't answer, staring ahead at the empty streets around the two of you. it was so late, nearly 2 am, and it only fuels the exasperation he feels burning in his stomach. he doesn’t like you out here like this, without him to keep you out of harm’s way.

"is it the drinking?" you pout, frustrated with the way he's ignoring you. "i admit, maybe four drinks was overkill, but i feel sooooo good. my body feels like..." you make a subtle buzzing noise, similar to tv static, and cut it off with a giggle, reaching over for one of mike's hands while the light turns green.

you inch it towards your lap, dragging it across the skin of your thigh that skims the end of your skirt, mini and gold and matching with the white corset top you wore. "you should feel."

"y/n..."

"c'mon mike," you pout again, dipping his hand between your opened legs. you let out an astounded moan when his cold fingertips connect with your bare clit, and now he's scowling at the fact that you’re not wearing any panties. he thinks about how many people would keep note of that, combined with your docile, inebriated state, and see it as a way in. it’s clear, with how those drinks have you begging him to ease his fingers into you, caressing your tight, warm walls so he can add another check to "car" on the list of places he's made you squirt. “don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"i'm not mad at you, y/n," he finally says, fingers still against your skin. you're soaking his seats, the excess of your slick dripping down to the cloth, and he has to pull himself out of thinking about someone else feeling you in this way. his eyes stay low on the road as he continues, "did you know anyone at that party?"

"mhm, like one person." mike sighs, a low grumble in his throat. he pulls his hand away from you, putting all of his attention on driving so he can get home. he just wants you inside, away from the world and in his charge. he doesn't say anything for a long while, eventually taking a deep breath and mumbling, "just want you safe, y/n. i'm glad you called me to come get you. there are bad people out there, and i don’t trust them in situations like this.”

"yeah," you purr, leaning against the center console and resting your head on the side of his seat. "you're my knight in shining armor, hmm? keeping me away from all the bad bad people looking to destroy messed up princesses like me?"

mike side eyes your tone, nearly scolding you for treating it like a joke and not something that could actually happen.

"...that's one way to put it, but seriously—-“

"wanna be destroyed though," you interrupt, unbuckling your seatbelt once he cuts the car off in the driveway. he’s turning to you, dark eyes gazing towards your pouted lips. you're reaching your hand across his lap, massaging it over the press of him in his sweatpants. “especially by you. wanna be your little fucktoy. let you use my messy holes however you want because they're yours."

your filthy mouth and shameless confession have mike turned on and hard and thinking about how you've called your holes his. he's seeing you bent over the couch, stuffed to the hilt with his fingers pressed against your tongue while he smirks down on you, veins coursing with lust. he squeezes at your hand, and says,

"let's get you inside, okay? then we can talk more about my messy fucking holes."

you're dizzy, giving him a big, woozy smile and letting all the craving you feel inside pour out through your glazed over eyes when he swoops you up again, carrying you and your shoes to his front door. your arms are back around his neck, and you're placing soft kisses on his lips, jaw, and chin as he drops your shoes by the entrance and carries you all the way to the couch, settling his body into one of the corners.

you're adjusting yourself on him so your bare mound drips over his thighs, and he's got his hands around your hips again, digging his fingers into your flesh as you mindlessly grind against him. you're still kissing against his lips, so uncoordinated and sloppy, and he pulls on the wispy strands at the nape of your neck, disconnecting you from him so he can leer at you with a look that tells you he will be destroying you tonight, guaranteed. "no panties was really bold of you, baby."

"can’t have panty lines in this skirt," you frown, placing your hands on mike's shoulders for leverage to move on him a bit harsher, eventually grazing them over his back and arms as you do. "not cute."

"but it's really not cute for you to have my holes on display for anyone to have, especially not when you're like this."

"mikey, please,” you coo, hunching down to press wet, suctioned kisses on mike's bare neck and rolling your hips into the weight of him. he feels so good against you, and you're aching, the alcohol sending shocks to your clit with every second of friction. "want you in me or something. no more talking, just use—-.”

"aht, don't rush me. trying to get you to understa---" one of your hands goes from roaming his shoulderblades to placing pressure around his throat, shocking him stiff against the back of the couch.

he doesn't think anyone has ever choked him before, and while his eyes burn at you with frenzied astonishment, you're causing him to have a revelation. his dick pulses against the material of his sweatpants at the feeling of your dainty hand squeezing his throat, and he's reaching to grab your wrist and bring your hand down before he comes all quick like he’s 18 again. you stop him with your other hand, coming in close to his face.

there's such a ferocity in your stare, and he knows that you're not going to let him lecture you all night. you need him to fuck you, need him to do something with you and your drunken arousal.

"are you really gonna keep talking, or would you rather just fuck my throat?" you slide your arms down his back, lips placed by his ear as you whisper, "show me how depraved people really can be when i'm like this."

he knows it's sick, but it doesn't take much past that for mike to have you on all fours beside him on the couch, back arched into a 45 degree angle as you drool all over his lap. you're begging for it, whining about how good he feels in your mouth, and he doesn't want to miss an opportunity to give you something you want, even though you're in this state. he's glad that it's him using you in this scenario, and not someone genuinely looking to hurt you. it's his rationale for giving in to your immoral desires.

you pull away from your mess with a sharp inhale, your jaw trembling as you sit up and give mike an eager, spit-slick smile. your eyes are even more distant than before, and it's almost like you’ve checked out. mike can see all the brashness and attitude you give him on the regular is gone, currently replaced with servitude and the intent to please, nothing less.

"wanna feel you ruin my throat, mike," you rasp, grabbing his dick in your hand and stroking at the soft skin, suckling on his tip as you flash him the hunger you feel inside through a grin. "please."

he's silent, having a quarrel with himself as he takes in your blank, mindless expression. it’s so wrong of him, but you look so pretty like this, and he reaches out to hold your cheek as you pout at him again.

"pleaseeeeee," you whine, tears nearly welling in your eyes. "want you to wreck me, use me however you wanttttt. gonna be your obedient, drunk little whore, do whatever you ask."

mike loses all resolve then, and demands you to drop to your knees in between his own. you're quick to assume the position, letting him put one hand on the back of your head and feed his dick into your throat.

"shouldn't like this," mike mutters, wrapping your hair up into a ponytail with both of his hands, watching you rub his dick over your face after slipping it from your mouth to spit on it. he almost can't take you like this, spacey and pliant and all his to destroy. so drunk and willing and--- "shouldn't let me take advantage of you like this."

your face is stained with tears and spit, streaks of dried liquid overlaying your burning cheeks and swollen lips. the neckline of your top is soaked too, saliva glistening on your chest.

"maybe i wanted it," you muse, winking leisurely as you wrap both of your slim hands around his base, smirking up at him. "maybeeeeeee i went and got plastered cause i knew you’d come get me if i called," you're feeding him into your mouth again, and without warning, mike is holding your head stationary, shoving his hips up into your warm mouth while you gulp every time he hits the opening to your throat. of course you'd do something like this. your admittance makes mike feel a plethora of things, good, bad, ugly, but right now, all he's focused on is making you feel like the toy you wanted to be.

"you're a fucking slut, y/n," he hisses with gritted teeth, throwing his head back as he feels you open up for him, allowing him to raise his hips and sink further into you.

the muscles of your throat flutter around his length, and it makes his toes curl, tangling together in his socks. "only sluts go to a party to get drunk so they can be turned into pretty little fuckdolls later...like being fucking mindless for me, huh?"

"love it, mike," you whimper, laying your tongue flat so his dick can slip in and out of your mouth with less resistance. it's covered in thick spit, a droplet resting on the tip, and mike leans down to collect all of it in his own mouth with a sloppy, obscene kiss, before releasing it all over his pelvis with a groan.

it was a fucking mess, and he loved it. he knew you loved it like this too, and your enjoyment of the raunchiness is reflected in the way you patiently wait for him to plunge his dick in you, eyes twinkling with everything and nothing at the same time.

your hand is moving under your dress, fingers stroking along your sodden walls, but he doesn't care; not when your eyes are rolling back into your skull as his dick infiltrates your throat again, filling the room with a persistent gluckgluckgluck as he rhythmically slams your face into his base.

you're sure you'll have no voice after this, but fuck, will it be worth it. you're basking in every second of this, so happy you decided to go out tonight. you were unexperienced in some ways, but you knew how to get to people, or at least to mike. you could get him to do whatever you wanted under the guise of him being in control, and all it took was a bit of sweetening with your voice, a flutter of your eyelashes and a crooked, "innocent" smile for mike to be wound your finger, abusing your face in a way you shouldn’t have dreamt of. you're running out of breath, and your fingers dig into his thighs with the message, but he ignores you, gripping your hair so that your mouth gently snaps up around him every time he pulls his hips back. the sensation is godly, and mike's not sure if he deserves this really. you'd fallen so hard for him at one point, and he'd crushed your hope to be with him under his thumb, but now you're here, letting him have you like this despite those memories. he's lucky, for whatever force is keeping you in his orbit.

"letting me do this to you while you're fucked up...letting some older guy take your throat like you're just free use...you're not getting into heaven," you laugh around him, forming your mouth into a makeshift smile as he slowly slides you off of him, overstimulated by the ridges of your throat muscles clinging to him. he doesn't want to come on your face, not this time. he wants you to beg for him to come in you, for him to fill you until you're overflowing, leaking down your thighs while he gives you more and more and more and more...

"i know," you mewl, pretty face smeared with saliva and pre-come. "i'll be in hell with you. wouldn't have it any other way." mike sits up, thumbing at your bottom lip and hissing as you unhinge your jaw and suck the tip of it inside. your eyes are getting dimmer by the second, but you're still wanting everything mike can give you.

he won't stop until you say so, and he strangely finds himself buzzing with lust at the thought of you bossing him around for his pleasure and yours. how had you gotten in his head like this?

"go in my room and strip, baby. sit in the middle of the bed and don't move." you're on your feet in a flash, clumsily dashing down the short hall without a look back.

it gives him time to get some towels, a washcloth to clean your face up, some lube, and grab waters for the both of you, thinking about all the ways he's gonna contort you. he might even make you watch in the mirror, make you take in your glassy eyes and lack of autonomy, the way you're letting him, your brother's best friend, have you in such an obscene way.

he cracks the door open with all the items in hand, and scoffs when he sees you naked, but stretched out on the bed, mouth hanging open with soft snores.

he walks over to the edge, dropping the things he's holding onto the comforter and shaking your shoulder softly. "baby," you lurch awake, murmuring "huh?".

you blink the bleariness out of your eyes as he uses one of the towels he brought to wipe off his drenched groin, and he smirks at you. you two are done for the night, and that's fine with him. something about your small figure, safely sprawled against his sheets has him seeing hearts and stars and rainbows and everything else he's tried so hard to push away.

when he's dry, ditching his shirt and boxers, he leans against his headboard, cradling you in his arms and lap as he begins using the washcloth to wipe at the dried spittle on your face. "here," he announces, cracking open a water bottle and bringing it to your lips, tilting it so you're able to get some water between them without much effort.

you swallow the sips he gives softly, wrapping your arms around his neck again. you loved being skin to skin with him, and right now, you felt tranquility.

this is but a fraction of that 100% he wanted to give, you think. something has changed in him, and now he wants to show you care. he still wants you to need him, need him to keep you protected from the world outside while he corrupts you in his own. you want that, too.

"mmmmmmm, you're so boyfriend," you muse, placing pecks on his collarbones as he continues cleaning you up. he's able to maintain a pokerface towards you, wiping at your cheeks with passive strokes, but inside, he feels nothing but chaos. why does he like hearing you call him boyfriend, like having you in his arms like this? why did it all seem to fill a hole in his heart, one he always thought would stay a cavity?

"really do love you, mike," you add, staring at him full on now. you might as well be sober, with your attentive, doe-like eyes. "tried hard not to, but i do."

you've broken him down, so easily, and somehow, he's giving into you with a deep, irrevocable sigh. he has nothing else to do but finally accept the truth.

"me too, y/n. me too."

this was rough for me to write because my brain just couldn't work properly, so i hope it's not the dogshit i think it is lmao hope this satisfies you anon!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #faire's mike schmidt <3 #faire is writing stuff #josh hutcherson #faire answers asks #this man is sweet and gross and that's hot tbh #like...to ruin someone so close to you....having to keep it secret #lord jesus christ

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jellyluvr · 11 months

Note

Hihi! Love your work, I was wondering if you could make a smut fic with Evan? Basically fem!reader is home alone and Evan is at work, she's bored and horny so she decides to masturbate. Without warning Evan comes homes and she's embarrassed about the whole thing but he's just like no, it's fine and tells her to continue, while he watches he's get hard and they end up masturbating together and even have sex? I'm sorry if this is horrible, I suck at explaining 😵 anyways ty 💞

Imagine

- evan peters x fem reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

I know the title sounds offensive asf but I promise it's not like that lol. But yeah I can totes do this :)

Tw: masturbation, kind of rough x?, and embarrassment obvi, SMUT like hella smut

S: up there ^

Have no idea if u mean to date evan or old him. So I'm just use to date, not romantically like up to date

Evan turned in bed, picking up his phone to check the time. It was almost 8am, and he really needed to go for work like usual.

So, he tried his best to get out of bed without alarming you, making sure to get off on the right parts so the bed didn't squeak. You were still asleep, so he didn't panic much. Evan didn't want to upset you, you always got sad when he left early so he made sure to not wake you up.

After drinking coffee and getting dressed, he grabbed a protein bar and left. Of course he felt bad about not telling you he was leaving but it was kind of routine by now. You'd eventually figure it out.

And you did. When you woke up you were a bit frustrated he wasn't there but it wasn't hard to put the puzzle pieces together. You just got up and did your own routine, taking a shower etc.

But now what would you do? You looked in the mirror and drew a few things in the glass before stepping out and getting some clothes on. Evan dedicated his life to his job, and honestly you hated it. You hated how he'd always be gone. You hated how people on the internet would absolutely bash you for stealing him. There was just so much stress. Too much.

You still loved him. No matter what he was always your first thought. Waking up in the morning next to him is what you always looked foward to, but he was gone that morning. His presence was so enlightening. His everlasting joy was so obnoxious at times, but you still loved him.

That day, or morning, you thought about what to do. Of course you showered and ate breakfast.. but what else? You and evan hadn't done anything in a month. Maybe even longer. You had.. well.. thoughts. Lots of thoughts about him. Naked, in the shower, swimming... I mean, you could only think of him when you wanted to masturbate.

Masturbating probably wouldn't be the most mature, but you needed to feel pleasure. It had been awhile, you deserved it. So, you went to your bedroom that you shared with evan and closed the door before getting into bed. You grabbed your phone and went on a porn site, nothing special. Your thumb swiped and swiped through the black and orange, coming across many videos.

You felt somewhat guilty. Kind of bad to be honest. You should've been with evan. Watching him instead of some random dude. But, you still clicked on one of the videos, them of course not showing their face, neither the girl. You sighed, slipping your hand into your panties and touching the hot slick.

You rubbed yourself for a few seconds, getting more slick to make it easier. You whined, watching the video, and watching the cumshot.

Your finger tip went with a nice rhythm, a clean pace as you watched. Your hips buckled, your finger following your clit. You ached for your orgasm. For the pleasure. You closed your eyes and imagined evan. Evan doing the same things as the men in the video.

Then, as your eyes were shut, and you neared towards your orgasm. You didn't even hear the door opening to your condo.. you just assumed it was in the porn you were watching.

Evan had came home. They had let him off early, and he immediately noticed your sounds. Maybe it was just a movie?? Was that why all the lights were out?

Evan kept the lights down while he opened the door just a little to not alarm you. His eyes widened as his face turned a pink color seeing what you were doing. But, he didn't look away.

You continued to touch yourself, a feeling of pleasure and ecstasy washing over you. You let out a whimper and a moan, your head falling back and your legs going limp. But your finger kept moving. You moaned a little louder, only imagining evan touching your clit.

Evan just watching. His hands got clammy and his face drained of color, the blood going down his body to accustom his needs. His cock grew harder by the second, his pants getting much tighter than usual. His hand moved to his bulge, palming it through his pants. He pushed down, his lip getting crush by his teeth as he tried to suppress his moans.

You were a complete mess. Sprawled out on the bed, your hips moving into your finger desperately, and your finger tip moving at a fast pace. You let out another moan. The porn didn't even serve its purpose anymore, so you turned off your phone and put it down, your finger continuing to stimulate you.

"Evan!~" you moaned, obviously imagining him doing it. Evan now knew exactly what you were thinking of, and he let out a little whimper, his pants feeling unbearable to be in now.

You overlooked the noise, assuming it was just yourself. So, you continued, your moans getting even louder as you grinded into what was supposed to be evans dick. It should've been to. You should've been fucking evan right now.. but you weren't.

Evans hand slipped under his pants and into his underwear as he made a tight fist around his shaft, imagining it was your tight walls around him, your precious little sounds escaping your throat while he fucked you.

And while evan lived his fantasy, you lived yours. Evans orgasm creeped closer while he bucked his hips into his hand, his eyes squeezing shut and his head shooting back. His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, his orgasm creeping a little closer.

You were still at it, your finger going at the quickest speed it could to fulfill your needs. Then, you came again, a loud moan escaping your lips. You panted and cussed to yourself while you slipped your panties off, looking at the drenched spot on them. You collected your arousal and looked at it for a second before rubbing it back where it belonged. Your body squirmed from the harsh over stimulation, but you loved it. You loved it and hated it at the same time, so you went gentle, whimpers leaving your throat as you did so.

Evan kept his hand moving, it going quick with his pre cum helping. His eyes rolled back as he came, right into his underwear. He panted, giving himself another few pumps before stopping and letting his hand go. He turned his head, looking over at you before smiling and closing the door quietly.

While you whimpered and moaned, this time, you heard the door to your condo open, and the lights turn on. You panicked, taking your finger from your panties and slipping on some pajama shorts before getting out of bed.

Evan was at the door, his stuff put on the counter while he turned to you.

"They let me off early, you wanna do something maybe..?" He laughed lightly, and you just walked in, nodding.

"Sure.. like a movie maybe?" You smiled back, leaning against the counter infront of him.

"No, I was thinking something else.." he said, his hands latching onto your waist and him moving closer to you.

"Oh- like.." you tried to find the words, but you were interrupted by him kissing you, it being as soft as his lips and personality.

"Yeah, like that." He hummed, his kisses trailing to your jaw and under your ear. You couldn't help but giggle a little. You had been wishing for this moment... and it was really happening. Your hands found evans shoulders and you kissed him on his neck a few times before he started to move you up on the counter.

You held onto his shoulders while you kissed, both your tongues exploring each other's mouths. You pulled him closer, and before you knew it you felt your body heat up like before.

Evans hands disappeared from your waist, a zipper noise and belt buckle noise, then he put his hands on your shorts and tugged the down, making sure to look up at you for the go. Once you smiled, his finger snapped at your panties, the fabric hitting your skin.

"Mm.." he mumbled, finally pulling down your underwear. You looked down, his erection perked and aggressive like last time. You saw the cum stain, but you had no time to say anything. Evan pushed into you and you let out a gasp before he kissed you again, his lips intertwined with yours.

His thrusts go more aggressive to the point where he was pounding into you. You clawed at his back, keeping him close, but you two both know you needed this. You both needed some time together.

Evan groaned, you whimpering while he pushed your hips into the counter top, his thrusts moving you with him. You yelped almost from how fast he was going, but you loved it. It was just what you imagined. Just what Evan had imagined. Your tight walls pulsing as he fucked you.. your sweet moans. He was addicted to that feeling. To make you crumble under him.. to make him crumble over you. You both had the same wishes.. and those wishes came true.

Evans pounds got sloppy, the drum of you two hitting each other starting to calm down a bit, but he still went at a fast pace.

"Oh fuck!" You muttered under your breath, evan hitting all your good spots.. filling each part of you with his flaming hot desire. Evan just grumbled.. leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck as he continued to thrust, keeping his pace.

Evan grew louder, his moans getting more animalistic while you hugged him to get some grasp on something. Then, he groaned, his last thrust undeniably wet and sloppy. You moaned with him, and he looked down, his dick moving slowly as he rode out his orgasm.. "oh.. shit.." he cussed under his breath, and you felt him pull out.

Your hand went down to your soaking wet cunt, and you looked at the hot white cum he had pumped you with. You smiled, your face pink and his tip still a cherry red.

"Round 2?" You asked, laughing lightly before lubricating his cock with his own cum.

"Round 3.." he corrected, and you just looked up at his face, only to see a smug grin.

"What?" You asked, really hoping he wasn't implying what you thought.

He laughed, his hand moving down to pump himself once more.

"I watched you.. you were kinda loud." He laughed, that grin still all over his face.

You turned red with embarrassment, and immediately opened your mouth to speak, but it was muffle once more with his mouth.

You were once more pushed against the counter, your back hitting the cold granite...

"It's round 3, just to be clear." He snickered, and before you could speak, he was filling you once more.

───────────────────────────

Okay!! So much earlier than I though, but anyway, here it is! Thank you 4 reading!! 💗💗

@daylas-life just thought it was necessary to tag u, even if it notifies u. Anyway, so sry 4 the wait. I LOVED MAKIN THIS THOO SO LUV UUUU 💕

ALSO I KNOW THIS ISNT HOW HE ACTS I LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA BUT HES GOTTA BE BOLD 4 THE STORY LMAO

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myoddessy · 1 year

Text

out with the old, in with the new | w2s/harry lewis

summary —new accounts, new lifestyle, new clubs every night. an insight into just what—and who—youtube's non-youtuber it girl got up to during her split from harry

*once again following the lead of @whoetoshaw and her bog universe's iconic breakup era ALSO, one of the twitter threads is rlly grainy and I'm sorry abt that, i couldn't properly fix it so you have to just zoom in on it 😭

2023, January

2018, July.

liked by zoeleonards, taliamar, masonmount, and 11, 824 others

yourusername lay all your love on me 🌻🍹☀️

tagged: zoeleonards, chloemitchells

zoeleonards london reality, greece fantasy 💔😞

yourusername ibiza couldn't come sooner!

wroetominter OMGOMG IVE DREAMED ABOUT YOU RETURNING TO SOCIAL MEDIA

ynfan omg shes glowing 🤩🤩

chloemitchells mykonos has never looked better 🤤😍😘

yourusername love u, lover girl 😘😘 ❤️❤️

2018, August.

liked by chloemitchells, tobjizzle, leahwilliamson, and 20,349 others

yourusername snuck behind a dj booth and had a blast, had a few more shots than I should've, fell more in love with my girls. ibiza, you will forever be famous 🍾✨️

zoeleonards it was nice having the hotel room to just myself and Chloe for a bit x 🤣🤭

ynfangirl DOES THIS MEAN THE MASON MOUNT RUMOURS ARE TRUE??

chloemitchells @ynfangirl who's that? never heard of him 🤷‍♀️

ynloverrrr it HAS to be true

freyanightingale beautiful girl ❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

sidemenfav the way that her, freya, and talia still like each others posts and support each other 💔

liked by yourusername, taliamar, and freyanightingale

ynandharry tobi likes every one of her posts, too. they really are family no matter what 😭

2019, January

liked by pierregasly, zerkaa, mabel, and 30,568 others

yourusername we're able to have semi-classy girls trips, who knew?

tagged: zoeleonards

chloemitchells gutted I couldn't make it, I miss u two beautiful girls 😭❤️

yourusername CHLO!!! it wasn't the same without you, babe xx

zoeleonards I missed placing bets on who y/n was gonna make a move on 💔

yourusername IM NOT THAT BAD ZOË JESUS

chloemitchells yeah, give her some slack... it's usually placing bets on who's gonna make a move on her 😉

ynfanpage queen we need tips on how to live our best lives because you are teaching us all rn

yourusername 1) the only long term relationship you need to focus on is the one with yourself. 2) surround yourself with people you love and support & who will love and support you. 3) learn to not give a fuck what anyone else things because everyone's too busy in their own heads to care ❤️❤️

taliaminterr how is your life so aesthetic?? irl gossip girl vibes!!

yourusername babe trust my life doesn't look like this day to day, I only show the fun bits. rn it's 4am and I've got four day old greasy hair, dried mascara under my eyes (I watched UP without taking off my makeup first), and I'm eating cereal and drinking flat coke zero. I am not the standard you should aim for 😭😭

ynslover I love how open and honest she is about her content. she's actually such a good role model

liked by taliamar, freyanightingale, chloemitchells, and 19,519 others

yourusername apparently people think the party life in my photo dumps is my day-to-day? babes, if I can teach any of you one thing in life, it's that half the shit you see online is fake. half the 'candid' moments are staged, same goes for almost every picture you see. so here's a little dump of my actual reality

zoeleonards yeah guys she's actually so messy it's insane. it makes me want to move out

yourusername SHUT IT. zoë has about three different vases of dead flowers in her room because she forgets to take them out.

zoeleonards that's nothing on the old cups in your room

yourusername BLOCKING U

ynslover how does it feel to be the most relatable influencer ever even though you're not an influencer?

taliamar omg you've still got the vinyls!!

yourusername ofc, babe! I needed something to remember our days of charity shop hopping

2023, January

#harry wroetoshaw #harry x reader #harry lewis #harry lewis x reader #wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #w2s #w2s x reader #w2s imagine #sidemen #the sidemen x reader #the sidemen #social media au #talia mar #miniminter #ksi #tobjizzle #freya nightingale

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maxislvt · 1 year

Note

If requests are still open, could you please do Soft!Dark!Daddy!CEO!Carol forcing herself on Secretary!Reader? Bonus points if she's trying to convince Reader to become her sugar baby.

warnings: smut, coercion, imbalanced power dynamics, daddy kink, strap on usage

sorry this took four centuries

"We both know you want me, just take the offer. I promise it's much better than working at a desk all day."

The fabric covered bulge pressing against your ass was too much on its own. It was overstimulating when combined with the fact you were forcefully bent over a desk by your boss of all people. Carol had always been a little inappropriate towards you, but you never thought it'd get that bad.

"Ms. Danvers, you have to stop! You have a meeting in-" Your attempt to push Carol away only earned a harsh slap on your backside. A low moan escaped from your lips before you could catch it. "I'm not interested in your proposition! Now let me go!" Every time you pushed Carol simply pushed back twice as hard.

"All they do is try to squeeze my pockets dry, but you're always there to make sure that doesn't happen. Don't you think you deserve a reward for keeping this company safe?" Carol pulled away just long enough to spin you around so your back was against the desk. Her hands groped at your ass before stripping your lower half. "Just let this happen, okay? Being my baby is so much better than worrying about those shit heads."

Another moan escaped your lips as Carol swirled the tip of her strap-on around your clit. "M-Ms. Danvers, this is really inappropriate! I can't- I can't just quit my job because you want to date me!" You tried pushing Carol off of you only to have your forcefully pinned to the side. Before you could even complain, your boss had buried herself deep inside your walls. "Ah- no! Stop that, please!"

Carol held both of your wrists with one hand and used the other one to stroke your face. "Shush, it's okay baby. You don't have to quit if you don't want to. That just means we'll have to keep it a secret." She whispered into your ear as she began rutting into you. A smile spread across her face as your moan started to get louder. "That's it, just let daddy make you feel good."

The title should've made you uncomfortable. It should've disgusted you how your boss had forced herself on to you and then took control of your body like it was nothing. But it didn't. The wetness leaking from your cunt and onto Carol's pants was proof enough. "Fine, fine! You win, just ah- we can't be late to this meeting!" You attempted to squirm away only for Carol to pull you back down flush against her hips.

"Awe, you're such a hard worker, but daddy would much rather spend time with you today. Why don't you clear my schedule for me, hm?" Carol reached into her back pocket and handed you her phone. "Go ahead, do your job since you want to work so bad." She watched as you hopelessly fumbled with her cellphone to make calls.

You took a deep breath and held the phone close to your ear, hoping the caller wouldn't hear the vulgar sounds coming from your pussy. "Uhm, hello. This is Ms. Danvers' secretary speaking. I was calling to tell you that-" You nearly screamed when Carol started playing with your clit. "That she unfortunately has to cancel today's meeting due to…uh, personal matters. Would it be fine if we rescheduled at the same time tomorrow? I- we could arrange a hotel room for you if necessary!" The call felt like it went on forever. Usually you were so quick with your responses.

"You're doing such a good job for daddy. We can buy you something really cute once I'm done with you for the day." She stroked your cheek like you were some sort of pet. "You want a reward, don't you?" She affectionately squeezed your cheeks.

You nodded, unsure of what else to do. You didn't want to watered down to some human fleshlight, but Carol was much too strong for you to fight. All you could do was obey. "I- daddy, I think I'm gonna cum!" Your declaration lit a fire in Carol. Her thrusts became tougher. If you weren't on the brink of the best orgasm of your life, you would've been worried about breaking the desk. "Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming! Sorry-" A wave of arousal shot through your body and right out onto Carol's pants.

"Fuck, baby. Are you always this messy or are you just happy to have a new daddy?" Her thrusts got slower until she was sure your orgasm was over. She slid out and sat down in her chair. "Ah ah ah, let daddy see you." She spread your legs apart and marveled at the mess between them. "You're such a pretty thing." She whispered before dipping her finger into your cunt.

#panther speaks #anon #panthers drabbles #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers smut #carol danvers #carol danvers fanfiction

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izzyspussy · 7 months

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Rating Ted Lasso Characters Based On If They'd Respect My Pronouns (Correctly)

Roy "We Stayed At GAY Til 3AM And Then We Had Crepes With Some Drag Queens" Kent: 11/10 no fucking shit. He would defend me from misgendering also, even if we weren't friends. He's the very embodiment of that guy who fought the trans guy and then fought the authority figure who scolded him for hitting a girl.

Nate "Genius (Code for Autistic)" Shelley: 11/10 are you kidding. If only quarantine had happened in his universe he'd have pronouns too. Also his girlfriend obviously already does.

Jamie "Prettyboy" Tartt: 11/10 duh. No, he doesn't know off the top of his head what part of speech a pronoun is, but only because nothing in the universe could matter less. And much like Roy, if he saw someone else being contrarian for the purposes of being a prick for absolutely no earthly reason, he would be eager to do something about it.

Keeley "Just The Tip" Jones: 11/10 did you see her. Never have I personally received more solidarity than from (butches and) full tilt Barbie Girl femmes like Keeley. She may be cis and she wears "women's" clothes, but she's still doing drag every day. She gets it.

Colin "Right by This Pink Triangle?" Hughes: 11/10 obviously. He would be so good at not making a big deal out of doing it correctly himself or correcting others, because he knows what it's like to just want to live your authentic life without being a spectacle.

Coach "You Should See Him In Drag" Beard: 11/10 which you should've guessed. Look at him. Look at him with your heart. You know he has pronouns you've never even heard of that he takes out for special occasions.

Ted "We Don't Not Care" Lasso: 11/10 why is this even a question. Practically the entirety of Ted's goals in life are to be respectful and kind and help others do the same. Sometimes that's hard and he fucks it up, but this is easy. C'mon.

Sam "Social Justice Warrior" Obisanya: 11/10 like. Obviously. I have nothing else to say, like. Obviously. Obviously.

Bumber-"Impending Class War"-catch: 11/10. If anything, given the opportunity, he would encourage me to have more pronouns.

Dani "Joy" Rojas: 11/10. These are getting very simple now, and require less and less explanation. He promotes joy. What else do you want.

Rebecca "Ask Your Daughter What It Means" Welton: 11/10. She's a cutthroat and a genuine feminist. She doesn't care if a bunch of freaks are scared of strangers' genitals, and she's certainly not going to let something so petty get in her own way.

Jan "I've Run Out of Fun Epithets For Everyone And He Wouldn't Mind This Unfun One That's Blunt About That Fact" Maas: 11/10 of course. There's no logical, moral, or social reason not to, and there is a wealth of evidence supporting gender affirming behavior.

Isaac McAdoo: 11/10. And he would (unnecessarily) instruct all the other lads to do it too. He might struggle with it at first if we had known each other previous to my transition, but not out of malice or negligence, and once he got on track he'd stay there for life.

Leslie Higgins: 11/10. He's a jazz musician with ten thousand gen Z children. He knows at least as many trans people already as any natural member of the queer community.

The Rest of The Lads: 11/10. We all know this to be true. Next.

Georgie Tartt: 11/10. Have you seen her son. She's prepared for this.

Sharon Fieldstone: 11/10. Have you seen her do her job. She's good at it.

Dottie Lasso: 9/10. Her heart's in the right place and that matters! She is inescapably Midwestern in both the good ways and the bad ways, though.

Jake: 8/10. Have you seen him do his job. He's bad at it.

Rupert Mannion: 6/10. He's a trans inclusive misogynist lmao. He also will treat correct pronoun usage as a privilege if he gets butthurt enough.

James Tartt: 3/10. He'd respect a trans man who performed masculinity to his standards, but he is definitely afraid of girlymen and women who are better than him (most women).

#jack facts #ted lasso #hc #i do vague sir but i do not vague at you sir #also yes i do know beard and bumbercatch's first names but i thought this was funnier

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twitterpated-passion · 2 years

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Matched | Monster Boyfriend

You liked to say that you had a normal life. It wasn't interesting, but it wasn't bland. You got through school with minimal mishaps, you had a job and you were thinking of getting your masters. And despite some obvious 'gifted kid' burnout symptoms pulling at you every now and again, you liked the life you lived. Most of the time, at least.

Now?

Now you couldn't say your life was normal even if you were being held at gun point.

-<><><><><><><>-

It all started with that stupid 'volunteer' start up group that suddenly came into play and forced a handful of people from selected cities to sign up. You were one of the (un)lucky few that got chosen, given only a day to pack before they picked you up in front of your apartment building and drove you out of the city.

Only the worst thoughts creeped in your head, telling you that you should've ran the moment you were chosen. It was only natural to feel that way, not a single person told you what the start up group was for and every time you tried to ask you were greeted with silence or a small 'Don't worry about it' from the driver.

You did, in fact, worry about it. You worried about it until someone finally let you know what was happening.

The person who let you know was the first person you saw when you walked into the building, a greeter of sorts in an oversized lab coat with their glasses on the tip of their nose. They perked up when they saw you and quickly pulled you away from the driver to lead you down a hall. "Welcome! You're right on time!"

"No one else chosen came with me though," you said. "And no one was in the entrance."

The person laughed, nodding. "Mhm! That's because it's your time. Others have come and gone before you, and they'll come after you. It's just not their scheduled time."

You shot them a confused look, which they didn't notice, waving their hands in the air to motion to everything. "I'm sure you heard already about what you're doing right?"

"No," you shook your head. "I was told not to worry about it. What am I doing?"

Their jaw slacked as they looked at you with a shocked expression. "Jeez...someone's getting fired."

They shook their head and shoved their hands in their coat pockets. "Anyway- what you signed up for is a very important start up group. I'm sure you're aware of the treaty made with King Ralin? Right?"

"Somewhat? It trended for a week and then disappeared off of the face of the Earth." They nodded. "What about it?"

"Well, in every country, a group of individuals are picked out for the group. The numbers vary on size, but that's not the point. Given that you were chosen, you get to go in your own little pod and rocket up into space, right on their planet. We're trying to ease human and alien relations smoothly, and if this goes well, we're hoping that King Ralin will send some of his people down here!" The scientist seemed so excited while explaining this to you, and a frown appeared on their face as they tilted their head at you. "What? Is something wrong?"

"You want me to be a test subject," you said. "I'm supposed to squeeze my ass into a pod and rocket up into space just to act buddy-buddy with aliens who probably aren't used to humans and might just hate my guts?"

"When you put it like that," they pouted, looking away from you. "It won't be as bad as you think. We've already established that no harm is going to come to the start up group or the aliens. So even if they hate you, they can't hurt you."

"What about the need for oxygen?"

"You ask that like aliens don't also breathe air. Your safety is already confirmed. You have nothing to worry about."

You weren't too sure you believed them.

-<><><><><><><>-

It's been exactly two months and five days since you went in that pod and arrived on planet 'Actae'. How you pronounce that in their language was unbeknownst to you, so you've just been calling it planet 'A' in your mind or whenever you needed to talk to another human about the planet.

It wasn't bad, you were able to admit that. Most of the aliens you met seemed to be more than happy to see humans for the first time, and you were able to quickly make friends with two of them, though, they worked with you in the Capital's library, so it mainly came with constantly seeing each other.

And that's where you were when you met him.

Prince Fonir, a cocky son of a bitch who loved to do nothing but tease you relentlessly every time he decided to 'grace' you with his presence. Though, all he did was make you regret choosing the library job no matter how much it suited you.

And unfortunately, today wasn't the day that he stayed home at the castle. Instead, he was mindlessly browsing through the fiction section, looking at the mixture of books that came from both Earth and Actae.

Even if he did, in fact, infuriate you, you couldn't help but stare, eyes glued to the graceful movements of his hands, to the way his long, baby pink hair would cover his face when he dipped his head down ever so slightly to get a better look at the book. You didn't realize how bad it was until you realized that the big pools of galaxies that were his eyes were looking at you as well, a cocky grin on his face, as he tucked the book under his long arm and sauntered over.

You busied yourself, a huff leaving your lips as his light olive green hands placed the book down. "You know, it's rather rude to stare, especially at royalty."

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the book and using your pointer finger to pull it towards yourself. You lifted the small scanner and pressed it to the book, hearing the high-pitched beep before pushing it back to him and answering, "Really? I wouldn't know, but I don't exactly care either. Isn't being stared at the job of royalty?"

You met his eyes bravely, eyebrow raised. "Which brings me to ask; don't you have anything better to do? You come here twice a week and do nothing but try to stir something. Don't you have your own library, your highness?"

"I do," he admitted. "But my library doesn't have a Jarïle for a librarian."

Your brows furrowed trying to figure out what he had just called you in his language, but nothing clicked, and you breathed a huff through your nose. Forcing yourself not to rub the bridge of your nose to try and ease a little of your annoyance out, you clicked your tongue and took one look at the screen-less computer in front of you. "Next month on the second. Bring in the book then or before. I'm not afraid of charging a prince a late fee."

He loomed over the computer and met your eyes once more before tucking the book under his arm again and turning on his heel, walking towards the front doors. You watched him leave, happy this encounter was shorter than the rest and that you could return to your own book faster.

But what he called you was still repeating in your mind, you doubt you could pronounce it correctly without five hundred tries, but when Jorik came out of the back room, you quickly approached her. "Jorik! I need your help."

She tilted her head, pushing her braid behind her with a small chuckle. "What do you need help with?"

You opened your mouth, but closed it quickly, contemplating on actually asking, and if she'll even know what you mean, considering how much you're probably going to botch the word. But, you ask her anyway. "What's a...jarile...?"

Her smile faltered as a confused expression overtook her face, her pale blue eyes narrowing slightly before she asked, "Do you mean jarïle?"

"Yea," you confirmed, hand moving to bashfully scratch the back of your neck. "What does it mean?"

"It means fire starter," she answered. "Where'd you hear that?"

"The Prince was in...again." You didn't hide the annoyance that bubbled in your tone suddenly, Jorik already well introduced to your dislike to the royal. She looked around however, smile faltering until you wave your hand in front of her face. "He left, don't worry."

She shook her head and focused her gaze back on you, raising an eyebrow. "What about Prince Fonir?"

"He was the one that called me it," you said, a small scoff coming out when you were done. "The hell is his issue with me anyway? I'm just trying to get through the day, just like everyone else."

"Korlae." You shut up at the nickname. It meant honey, but Jorik liked how it sounded in her language more. You couldn't blame her. "Jarïle is an affectionate term."

You blinked, pulling your head back slightly. "What?"

Jorik let out a soft laugh, the sound slightly echoing in the quiet space. With a nod, she walked herself over to the stool, sitting on it to lower herself to be eye to eye with you. "You've never called someone you like a fire starter? Trouble?"

"You act like I've had a partner," you said, sitting in the stool beside hers, lifting it up just a bit. "Don't you guys have matchmakers though?"

She was quiet for a moment, brows furrowed before they lift and hide behind her bangs when she realized. "Oh! K-Kinda? They find our soulmate. I don't know how they do it, but it's a day of celebration for us. It only happens once, when we turn twenty-three in human years."

She smiled fondly. "I only have a few months until it's my turn. Soran has a year for his. And Prince Fonir's is in a week, it's going to be huge. Everyone wants to know who the lucky Horæl is."

"Remind me what that means?" You knew she knew what you meant, and she chuckled at your lack of an attempt at saying it.

"It's basically our equivalent of 'alien'. Like how humans call other humans...humans." Another chuckle left her. "Anyway, they're going to play it all over the planet, since, Prince Fonir is going to take the crown when he's twenty-five. It's important to know who'll rule beside him."

"Yea..." You said, voice drifting off when you're reminded of the similarities for the royals back on Earth and on Actae. "I get it."

"Good, because I'm gonna invite both you and Soran over to watch it with me. I don't think I'll be able to watch it alone." You smiled at how excited she seemed over it, pushing back how annoyed he made you to grab her hand with a nod.

"'Course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, Jorik."

-<><><><><><><>-

The library -like other places- was closed on Prince Fonir's birthday, so instead of having to work and going with Jorik and Soran to Jorik's apartment, you were able to go straight to it. Fortunately for you, she lived fifteen minutes away from your apartment, just a couple blocks down.

You were hardly able to knock before the door swung open and Jorik loomed over you with an excited grin spread across her face. "You made it just in time, it's about to start!"

She yanked you inside and shut the door behind her, ushering you towards the large couch that sat in the living room area of her loft. "You can sit beside Soran."

With a nod, you do, waving over to Soran as he smiled at you and lifted his hands to sign, 'She's pretty excited.'

You chuckled, nodding in response before glancing over at the Horæl who's happily tapping her foot against the floor, the sound creating an unrhythmic melody. "Is it because of the Prince or because she really likes this ceremony?"

You looked back at him, eyes focused on his hands when he responded, 'Both.'

"Ah," is all you were able to say back before the 'be right back' sign on the holographic tv screen switched to show the castle, the crowd around it immense, everyone -humans and Horæls alike- wanting to see who was paired with Fonir .

It switched to inside the castle, showing a gaggle of nobles standing in the throne room. None of them paid the camera that was practically in their faces any mind, all of them chatting amongst each other, or keeping to themselves. There was no noise of it though, only a narrator explaining the importance of the ceremony.

Everything seemed to quiet down though when King Ralin stepped out, his usual event outfit on, just without the cloak he carried on his shoulders. Then, when he stepped out of the way, Prince Fonir came out from the same doorway.

All you could do was stare as the camera focused on him, following his every move as his hands picked at his outfit, the usual monotoned colors he wore exchanged for bright, flashy colors. Purple, pink and gold.

His hair was let down and the two braids pulled to the back of his head kept his hair from his face, since the crown he was wearing wouldn't have helped. Pink touched his cheeks and ears, and his eyes were trained on the ground.

He was nervous.

A light nudge to your foot pulled you out of you thoughts, and you snapped your head away from the tv, looking at Jorik. "For someone who hates him, you seem to like staring at him. Your cheeks are red, Korlae."

Your heart skipped a beat and you shook your head, letting out a small scoff. "I was just seeing how nervous he is."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't all that you saw.

She merely gave you a once over and turned back to the tv, letting you do the same. You were greeted with Fonir standing in front of his father's throne, fists against his sides as the nobles stepped to the side, giving both him and King Ralin space to get the ceremony going.

Two other Horæls came out of the doorway opposite to the one the Prince and King came out of, but they were dressed just as flashy, and if Jorik's excited little noise was anything to go by, you would've assumed that they were officials. They looked older than both King Ralin and Fonir, which amazed you, since King Ralin was definitely older than he looked.

One bowed their head to Fonir before he lifted his arms and allowed them to push up his sleeves, baring his forearms to the other official. The other one produced something like a pen, but when the camera focused on what the official was doing with said pen-like tool, you watched it shallowly cut his wrist three times, though no blood surfaces.

You turn to Soran with a confused expression and lucky enough, he seems to catch it, hands moving fast as he explained, 'The knife takes the blood and they put it in a pen that creates an eternal symbol.'

"...Oh," you said, eyebrows raising slightly as you turned back to the tv. The unrhythmic tapping returned as the three of you watched as Fonir's bright blue blood falls into a pen, the process looking extremely drawn out until it's filled completely.

Fonir's eyes are closed tightly, and you remember the dramatic endeavor you went through when he accidentally got a papercut one day at the library. To say he was good with pain would be a complete lie.

You wanna do the same as him however, when you finally realize how interested you are in knowing who the Horæl'll be. You shouldn't even care, if anything you could be a little happy, it'd get him out of the library more often than not. But you did, even if you weren't sure why.

The symbol basically drew itself on his wrist, covering the already healing cuts and forming something odd, a mandala looking symbol that you couldn't get a good look of, but yet you still glanced over at Jorik because you were in serious need of an explanation. But when she looked at you and Soran, you were met with the same confused look.

"You never actually told me how they found the soulmate, Jorik..." You said, but as she opened her mouth to answer, you heard a gasp from a certain Prince.

You couldn't move your head faster to face the screen, eyes focused on what's in front of you as you, Jorik and Soran watched him look at the symbol with wide eyes. There were whispers in the background in the castle, and the camera stayed where it was when Fonir leaned to his father to whisper something to him.

You saw King Ralin's eyes widen, just like Fonir's was seconds ago. Then you heard one of the official's speak, their voice loud and commanding when they announced, "The symbol belongs to a human."

The air around you seemed to stop as Jorik's tapping silenced and a throaty noise left Soran.

Prince Fonir was paired with the impossible.

-<><><><><><><>-

Every human that was sent to Actae, two hundred to be exact, were ordered to go to the castle the moment the cameras shut off, said order being sent specifically to your phone, rather than everyone's. A shaky breath left you when you read the message over and over.

"So..." Jorik started after a while, "you have a chance-"

"I'm not going to think about that," you cut her off. "I'm just gonna go to the castle and then I'm gonna watch it happen with one of the others."

You stood, shoving your phone into your pocket before walking to the door. "Maybe it's a misunderstanding. Maybe, and here's a thought, Fonir doesn't have a match."

A sigh breached your lips and you opened the door, looking back as you stepped out. "I call you when I find out."

Jorik nodded and Soran gave you a small smile, which you returned before walking out fully and shutting the door behind you.

You walked the distance to the castle, ignoring the looks you got as you were walking. They weren't bad per-se, but you could tell some of them didn't really like the possibility of a human ruling over them.

Not that you blamed them. It's only been three months since the first humans came to Actae, it's already a big change, and to know that one of them is going to rule with the Prince when he turns twenty-five is an even bigger change.

The stares only got worse when you arrived at the castle, your hands holding your arms as you walked in and avoided the looks of the maids that walked through the halls. The only one that didn't stare was the one leading to the throne room, explaining what to do when you walked in. "Stand straight and look them in the eyes when they talk to you, use your right hand to shake theirs and nod your head to bow. Speak when spoken to and when they let you all go, you can return to your home. But only when they allow you to leave."

She turned to you and waited for you to nod in understanding before she pushed the door open. You straightened your posture and walked in, fingers digging into your arm as you saw the other humans, all of them off to the side. You made haste joining them.

When you decided to look at anything other than your peers, you gazed over to the throne and met Fonir's eyes, and for once, you felt something other than annoyance when you saw the small smile on his face. He looked almost relieved to see you, his left hand holding his right wrist, as if he was hiding it.

You looked to your sides, and then back at him when you decided to do the one thing you know you'll just deny when it was brought up later. You lifted your hand from your arm and gave him a small wave. He did the same after a quick glance towards his father, confirming that he was still talking to the officials.

It didn't take long for the others to show up, no one really wanting to make the King to the new planet they're living on upset. It made you feel a little better when you noticed that everyone else was nervous, or at least happy you weren't the only one that looked like they might about cave in on themselves.

Fonir stood behind his father when it was made known that you were all there, and they stood in the middle of the room, the Prince's eyes trained on the ground again. You stared at the King and forced your shoulders back, listening to him when he started to speak, "I'm certain you all know why you're here, one of you happens to be my son's match."

'Getting straight to the point...thank god," you thought, appreciating King Ralin not beating around the bush.

"I thought this would be a simple process, considering no one else had been paired with a human before the 'start-up', but, as it turns out, not everything can be as simple as you want it." There was a small laugh that left his lips and he clasped his hands together. "And because I would hate keeping everyone here for hours, anyone who volunteers and is not the match, can leave as soon as it's confirmed. If we find the match before everyone gets a chance, everyone but the match can leave immediately."

Fonir glanced up and took one large swoop of the crowd, then his eyes fell back onto you. You felt his stare, but it quickly turned away from you when the first volunteer happened to walk up to him, bowing.

You didn't want to look, but yet, you did. You watched as the first five got rejected, you watched as one took longer than the others only to fail and you watched as Fonir got impatient.

His eyes met yours again, and the silent look of pleading on his face made you go after the fifteenth person, raising your hand slowly and silently. You only walked up to him when the King nodded and you nodded your head at Fonir, finally getting a good look at the symbol.

It was a mandala alright, but, the longer you looked at it, the more familiar it got. You lifted your hand from its position on your arm and traced it, stopping only when you felt a searing pain in your left wrist. You hissed and stepped back, tearing your hand away from him before grasping your wrist, pressing against your wrist.

Fonir's eyes were wide as he watched you, your face contorted in pain as you tightly held your wrist, the pressure easing it just a little. "Jarïle," you heard him start through deafened ears, "...move your hand."

You could hardly hear the whispers that came after Fonir spoke, and all you could feel was the burning in your wrist until you saw a green hand slowly clasp over yours. You leaned into the cool touch letting him pull your hand away, only to reveal the same symbol that was on his wrist. Though, instead of it being drawn, it was burned into your skin, like it was made with a branding iron.

King Ralin was at Fonir's side in no time at all, pale white eyes looking back and forth between your marks. "...That's never happened before."

"Being matched with a human hasn't happened either, Fonir," his father pointed out. "I suppose you found your match."

The collective whispers seemed to quiet down immediately when it was announced and the next thing you knew was that King Ralin was wishing everyone but you a farewell and to 'have a safe trip home'. Then the throne room's doors were shut and you were left alone with the two.

Silence blanketed over the three of you and you pulled your hand away from Fonir, eyes falling to the floor as you heard echoed footsteps and then Ralin's voice, "So, I assume you two have already met."

You nodded, but Fonir talked before you could, "They work at the Capital's library, father."

You lifted your head slightly, only to see the King's eyes as he looked at you, a small smile on his face. You pulled your left arm behind your back to nod at him slightly, the burning feeling in your arm slowly dispersing with each moment. His smile widened and his short, neon pink hair tipped to the side when he tilted his head. "Are you sure jarïle is the right nickname for them, Fonir?"

You felt Fonir's eyes on you again, and you met his eyes. "I think it suits them a lot."

Everything you had on your tongue died when you saw him look at you, and you hated how you were anything but annoyed at it. You didn't like the butterflies that formed in your stomach when he gave you a small smile and winked. And you didn't like how you knew that his teasing would just come back tenfold because of this.

"It's just going to get worse," you finally responded after a long moment, and his smile widened at it.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Jarïle." The King laughed and rested a hand on Fonir's shoulder. You appreciated the genuine happiness from Ralin. It was a change from Earth's leaders. Though, he was actually doing a good job.

"I'll leave you two to discuss. We'll all talk at dinner tonight about what the future holds for the both of you. Alright?" You glanced up at him, noticing the 'alright' was more for you, than Fonir. You nodded after a small pause, giving him a slight smile. "Great. I'll see you two later."

Fonir gave his father a small wave before his hand was back on yours and he slowly pulled you to the throne. "So, this is..."

He didn't continue, so you did for him. "Tragic? Dreadful? Terrible? Horrible? Am I getting warmer?"

"Ice cold," he responded simply. "It's something."

"What's something supposed to mean?"

"It's something to get used to." His hand let go of yours and moved back so he could sit on the edge of the throne. "I didn't know being matched to me was that bad for you, Jarïle."

He was teasing you. You could hear it in his voice.

You wanted to bite back, but all you responded with was, "I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"How? By simply saying something that you could've very well been thinking? Don't tell me you expected to be matched with me, much less a human."

"I wasn't," He confirmed. "But that's because it hasn't happened. I'm more than happy to be the first of something."

You bit the inside of your cheek, thumb running along the mark on your wrist, pressing down every so slightly to test if it still hurt. "How's this gonna work?"

"What?"

"Us. Am I gonna have to quit my job and just...sit idle until you take the throne? Are we just going to play nice in front of camera and the moment it turns off things just go back to normal?" He gave you a look, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"And what's 'back to normal'?"

"You having an issue with me," You said, exasperated, knowing for a fact that it was obvious. "Ever since I came here, you've done nothing but try to stir stuff by teasing the living fuck out of me. Then you go ahead and decide to call me an affectionate term like we're friends and- and if you even thought that was ok, I would assume you'd be friend-"

He cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand. "That was me being friendly. You seriously thought I had an issue with you?"

You froze in your spot, not fighting him when he pulled you between his legs. "You're the first person that's treated me normally, even going as far as to threaten me with late fees. Jarïle, you're possibly the only human I'd feel completely comfortable being matched with. Everyone else treats me like I'm...like-...well never mind the word for it. You're not afraid to be you in front of me."

You tasted iron after biting down on the inside of your cheek harshly, but the pain of it didn't even process, your mind only trying to go through everything he said. "...Do you mean they treat you like china?"

"Is that all you got out of that?" He groaned. "Yes, I meant that, but c'mon, that can't be the only thing you have to say about what I said."

"It's not," you confessed. "I'm just...having a hard time understanding how I got how you felt about me so wrong. I'm usually good at reading people."

"Humans," Fonir corrected. "You're good at reading humans."

You felt like a child being scolded with how he was looking at you, for the tone that took hold every time he talked. But despite that, you still had at least some gall to ask, "...Would you be more comfortable if you got matched with a Horæl? You only mentioned human when you said that."

The braids that pushed his hair back earlier were doing nothing at that moment, framing his face as his crown was nowhere to be seen, but he still had the touch of nervousness he had earlier, and you wondered why he was the one nervous. "I didn't think they needed to be included."

"So you would be?"

"You like assuming things, don't you," he asked, and the slight smile that appeared on his face relaxed you ever-so-slightly. "Horæls also treat me like china, Jarïle. Even more than humans."

You nodded, eyes drifting from him before his hand grasped your chin and brought you back to him. "We have two years until I come of age to take the throne. Does that seem like enough time for you?"

"Do I have to quit my job?" Fonir chuckled in response.

"I don't see why you have to. Maybe when we start ruling, but you're free to do whatever you like." We. The word had your thoughts racing and freezing all at the same time. He wanted to do it with you, even after you actively disliking him, even when you thought he disliked you too.

He must've noticed the zoned out look on your face because he waved his free hand in front of it and tilted his head. "What's on your mind, Jarïle?"

"You said we when you were talking about ruling," you answered, voice quiet. "I thought you were the most irritating person alive and here you are...being overly nice to me."

"Well, considering that my teasing didn't do anything to make me seem nice, I might as well try a new approach," he joked. "And we're a match. Why wouldn't I say we?"

"I wouldn't expect you to want to rule with me," you said bluntly, though your voice was still just as quiet. "I've only been here for like...two and a half months and suddenly in two years I'm gonna rule? No one is going to like that."

"I like it," Fonir admits. "You can learn a lot in two years and...believe me when I say it, you're going to learn a lot if my father has any say."

"And here I thought, King Ralin was nice," you jested, allowing an unsure smile to grace your lips. It only got bigger when you saw him laugh, the sound ringing in your ears like a melody.

"My father is nice, but when it comes to the kingdom...he's pretty strict. We're going to be going through the same things, trust me."

You didn't think before your hand grabbed his, giving the slender thing a small squeeze. "I do."

The smile Fonir gave you when you said that sent your heart to the stars, and another laugh left him. "You spend two months hating my guts and here you are, saying you trust me."

"I found your smug expression and teasing annoying...I never hated your guts though."

He hums, a pleased expression on his face. "I guess today we're both learning something. Neither of us hate each other."

You nodded. "I guess we don't."

His hand squeezed yours as the other hand stayed on your chin, thumb right below your bottom lip even though you knew he could very well touch it if he wanted to. His touch was just as cool as earlier, which you appreciated given the lingering burning feeling in your arm and in your face, even if it was mainly in your cheeks.

Though, right as the moment had started, it ended just as fast, your phone ringing loudly from your back pocket. A groan flew from your lips as Fonir pulled his hands away, your hand making it to the phone that resided in your pants before seeing the contact picture, eyes widening when you see Jorik's face. "Shit, I forgot to call her."

"What? Forgot to call who?" You didn't answer him, simply answering the phone before bringing it to your ear.

"Hey," you said, carrying the 'y' for a few seconds.

"Out of two hundred humans, you happened to be the one that was his match." You winced at her words.

"...Word really carries around fast."

"Of course it does! You're the Prince's Jarïle! Not only did he know you before the meeting, he called you a pet name! Korlae, you're big now."

A breath left you, and you nodded, though you knew full well she couldn't see you. "Yea, I'm aware of that. Look, I was in the middle of something before you called..."

"Yea? Like what?" You met Fonir's eyes and used your pointer finger to tap your phone and then point to him, a silent question of if he wanted to take it.

When he caught on, a mischievous grin grew on his face and he nodded, letting you hand him your phone as he pulled it to his ear. He seemed to listen to Jorik for a long, drawn out moment before glancing at you. The both of you shrug at each other, though his was in response of you doing it to him.

"Hello?" Fonir said, unsure if doing so was even ok, but when you heard the faint talking stop, you let out a snort. He took it as a sign to keep going however, "I'm the something they were in the middle of...Jorik, right?"

You watched Fonir's eyes widen as he pressed his lips together and pulled back your phone, shoulders shaking with silenced laughter. "Did she..."

You drifted off, but the second you saw him nod you barked out a laugh, hand covering your mouth as you tried to muffle the sound. "Your friend just hung up on me."

Your hand dropped and you tipped your head forward, nodding as you cackled. "I've had people who were afraid to talk to me, but- but they hung up on me!"

With another nod, you knew that you weren't going to let Jorik forget what she did any time soon, especially when you heard your phone ring again.

-<><><><><><><>-

You sat at a table in the Capital's library, eyes focused on an Actaean history book as your tutor -who Ralin was very happy to give you- piled more books onto your already gigantic stack, sitting across from you. You refused to glance up at her, already knowing that there was going to be a smug smile on her face.

She wasn't mean, not in the slightest, but she was good at making you feel bad about knowing almost nothing about the planet and its history, which in turn made you feel stressed about ruling and that made you feel bad that Fonir got matched with someone so...stupid. And almost as if he knew you were thinking poorly of yourself, he came in, fast food bag in his long, slender hand. Your first-in-line.

That was the moment you glanced up, a relieved look overtaking your face as he glanced at the books, then over to you with a small smile. "Uiloi, you're working them to the bone. I cannot rule with a skeleton."

"There's only a year and a half left before you turn twenty-five, your highness."

"And in that time, and even after it, they can learn the boring history of this planet. Go take a break, get a drink from the shop down the street." It sounded like a suggestion, but his tone made it apparent that it wasn't, and so Uiloi was quick in standing and leaving the library.

Fonir set the bag down, pushing it in front of you before he moved the stack of books to the far side of the table, sitting in the seat next to you. You shot him a thankful smile and pushed your book aside. "Thanks..."

"You can tell her to stop, Jarïle, she's supposed to listen to you."

"I'd feel bad," you admitted. "...It doesn't seem like it's my place to order anyone around, much less the people that actually come from here."

Fonir pouted, hand grasping your chin gently before he leaned down just enough to leave a chaste kiss on your nose. "That'll pass when you get used to it all, it's only been six months, Jarïle."

"What if it doesn't pass?"

"Then I guess I'll have to be right beside you to reassure you that it's ok," he answered, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Out of everyone on my planet and yours, I'm extremely lucky for it to be you that I'm matched with."

"We met eight-" He cut you off, finger against your lips.

"Does it really matter how long it's been?" You wanted to argue, say that it does, but when you saw his expression and the soft look in his eyes, you knew you couldn't. Because it really didn't matter. Not to you at least.

After a begrudging huff, you shook your head, watching as the smile on his face grew and letting him leave another quick kiss, this time on your temple. "You wouldn't have won that argument even if you tried, Jarïle."

"I know," you said, breathing out through your nose. "I can never truly win an argument against you, you're too stubborn to accept that you were wrong."

"As are you, my little future ruler." Clicking your tongue, you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Shut it with the little alright? You guys are just freakishly tall." Fonir held a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"That's hurtful, Jarïle. Maybe we're the normal ones and you humans are the freakishly small ones, huh?" His dramatic tone made you laugh, one of your hands pushing the book in front of you away to grab at the fast food bag as the other pushed his arm gently. He smiled down at you, a proud expression on his face as he watched your attention divert to the bag now fully in front of you. “I could’ve had the cooks make something for you, you know?”

You shook your head, already halfway done pulling out the greasy fries in its little cardboard container. “I couldn’t make them do that.”

A sigh left him at your words, and you glanced over at Fonir. “What?”

“You think someone would take the fact that they’re going to be crowned royal in the near future and use it for their own good.” You snorted. “Like actual cooked meals rather than human’s ‘quick food’.”

“Hon’,” you started, “you should’ve seen what I ate in college. It was worse than fast food.”

His brows furrowed in response before he pursed his lips. “You worry me, Jarïle.”

Now it was your turn to look proud, a grin spreading across your face. “Gotta keep you on your toes, Princey.”

“You have many years in the future to do that, Jarïle, but I have to insist that when we’re wedded, you take care of yourself.”

“You saying fast food isn’t taking care of myself?” You knew it wasn’t, fast food actually got worse after it was able to move up here but you quickly got past it when you realized how cheap it was, especially when you refused to hear Fonir out about paying.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." You huffed a laugh and shook your head. It was cute how much he doted on you after such a short amount of time.

A knock against the table drew both of your attention towards the person that did it, your eyes drifting over Soran's form, meeting his smile with your own. "Hey, Sor'."

He waved, bowing his head towards Fonir before he looked at you again and jerked a thumb over his shoulder before pulling his hand back to sign, 'Jorik needs help with the book scanner, sorry to interrupt.'

You bit your lip, glancing over at Fonir before popping a fry in your mouth and standing. "I'll gotta help Jorik real quick."

You didn't think twice when you leaned down and pecked his cheek, only pulling back to round the table and walk beside Soran. "Say anything about the kiss and I'll fight you, Sor'."

'I didn't even do anything,' he signed quickly, eyebrows furrowed. 'So quick to assume.'

You glanced up to his face after you got what he was signing, cocking an eyebrow just slightly. "You want to say something about it, don't you."

There was a pause, but eventually he nodded, casting his gaze away from you when the both of you went behind the front desk. "Knew it."

"Knew what?" Jorik asked, simultaneously tapping a book against the scanner.

'Our modest librarian gave their match a scandalous kiss on the cheek,' Soran was quick to sign, not bothering to hide the teasing expression on his face.

Jorik set the book down to gasp dramatically. "Not a kiss on the cheek! Such a travesty, I thought you were better, Korlae."

You swatted at the both of them, swiping the book from the counter before knocking the scanner on the top. When you placed the book back under, ignoring the laugh that came from Jorik at your reaction, you heard the high-pitched beep. "There."

"How'd you-"

"You just gotta bop it on the top. It's like tech on Earth, if it doesn't work, you just have to abuse it a little." You shrugged, sneaking past Soran to the open side of the desk. "If you need anymore help, you know where to find me."

"And your Prince."

"Yes, and my Prince," you said without thinking, the words processing in your head as you swiftly shook it. "The Prince. I meant the Prince. Just call him by his name, Jorik."

“Sure you meant that, Korlae. Totally. Just like you two haven’t been conjoined at the hip with him ever since you were matched with him,” Jorik said, eyes boring two holes into you with a disbelieving but playful expression. “I’m surprised no one has caught you making out yet.”

Your eyes widened, a flush spreading across your cheeks as your face grew warm. “Jorik I’m going to wring your-“

“Ah ah,” she mock scolded you, waving a finger in the air. “None of that. Don’t make me bring over your beloved.”

You held your hands up, arms outreached as your fingers curled into your palms, an exasperated huff leaving you before you turned on your heel and left the desk.

You walked back to the table, falling into your chair with a heaving sigh as Fonir looked up from a book, one that wasn’t from the pile of history books, which means he must’ve grabbed it when you were gone. “What’s wrong, Jarïle? You seem upset.”

“I’m fine, Fonir,” you said, hand moving to pat his. “Jorik’s was just teasing me.”

“About?” You met his eyes, and it only took a couple seconds before it clicked. “Me?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “We’re apparently conjoined at the hip.”

He glanced down at his book and shut it after another second. “I wouldn’t say that she’s wrong saying it.”

“So you think it too?” You couldn’t help but ask it, but you knew the answer already.

“Well,” he started, holding onto the ‘l’ for a short moment, “we could spend more time together. You’re welcome to live at the castle.”

“Marry me first,” you laughed. “Give me a reason to make my commute to work longer, ‘kay?”

Fonir grabbed your hand, tipping his head down to kiss the back of it. “I fully intend on doing that…in a year.”

“You’re so quick for me to move in, but you won’t marry me.”

“I assumed that you’d want more time living separately. And it’d give you six months to get used to it all before your life is changed.”

“Because my life was completely normal now?” He shot you a look, and you merely leaned up to kiss his cheek again. “Normal’s boring anyway, match.”

You felt Fonir’s normally cool skin heat under your lips, and you pulled back to see the neon green flush along his cheeks. You knew what got him to be like that. It was you calling him match, that little nickname you jokingly called him three months ago. But when you saw how flushed and flustered it made him, you kept it.

“Match,” he repeated, just for you to nod. “My match.”

“Forever and ever, Fonir.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Part two

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lullabyes22-blog · 1 month

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Snippet - Ask the Experts - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Vi learns a thing or three...

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"I need her back, Nao," she whispered. "My sister's all I have. She’s kept me going for seven fucking years. And if I can't save her, then—then I've got nothing left."

Nao cradled her close, and whispered, "Maybe she doesn't need saving."

"Huh?" Vi blinked wetly. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe she's where she wants to be." Nao's fingers tipped Vi's chin. "Maybe she's throwing up walls because they're what's keeping her safe."

"Safe from what?"

"The past," Nao ventured. "Or you. It doesn't matter. Maybe she's in the middle of her own maze, and she's scared. Until she finds a way out, she'll keep those walls up. Maybe she's afraid to lose sight of where she's headed, and how far she's come. Maybe, to her, looking back means losing sight of the future."

"Who's future? Hers—or Silco's?" Vi's teeth sunk into her lip, but the words slipped out. "Look, I...I gotta ask. Do you know anything? About them?"

Nao's expression, beneath the softness, seemed to calcify. "Them?"

"Jinx," Vi said, hating herself for it. "Silco."

Nao was silent a moment. Then she said, softly, "He's devoted to her."

"That's not what I'm asking." Vi fought down a hot surge of bile. "There's rumors. So many fucking rumors. That he and Jinx, they're—together. In the worst way. Jinx denies it, and Silco, too. But—the way they act, sometimes, it's like they're the only two people in the world. They're always together. Like a package deal. She's always clinging to him. Always looking to him, like he's the one holding her up. It's—it's like they've got this..." She groped for the word. "Intimacy."

Nao stayed quiet. When Vi met her eyes, they were shadowed. Nao knew something, but the knowledge ran deep.

"The Eye," she murmured, "has someone in his life."

Vi's pulse spiked. "Are you saying—?"

"It's not Jinx. She's his family. And like family, they keep each other close. Close like a knife under a pillow." Her eyes slid away, and her voice dipped. “But there's someone else. Someone he relies on. He doesn't show her off, but when she's by his side, he's different. He's... not softer, but steadier."

"Who," Vi pressed. "Who’d be crazy enough to be with him?"

"I can't tell you. But I'll say it's serious."

"How serious?"

The smile was back, but the shadows remained. "As serious as it gets without a ring."

"Then you've seen it." Vi's gut churned. "Seen them. Together."

"I see plenty. I hear more."

Nao slid a leg over Vi's waist. Straddling her, she arched over Vi’s recumbent body. Dark locks fell in a perfumed curtain. Vi could smell the musk of sex beneath the sweetness of mint. Her body was a warmly debauched garden. And it should've aroused Vi, except Nao's face was a polished oval. All her tells carefully hidden.

Vi wondered if this was her visage, her persona, for Silco. Or if there was a different self beneath the façade.

One reserved only for his enemies.

"I'm good at what I do, Vi," she said. "And the Eye knows it. He values my services. And my discretion."

"I'm not asking for dirt."

"You aren't. But he would." Nao's fingertips traced her jaw. "We all have a part to play. And I have to play mine right. I won't be in this life forever. Three years from now, I won't be his favorite. But I'll have what I need to walk away. And when I do, I want it to be on my terms. No loose ends."

Vi swallowed. "Loose ends?"

"Something that can be used to yank me back." A phantom of pain flitted across her face. "Or force me under someone's boot."

"And that's why you chose Zaun," Vi surmised grimly. "Why you chose Silco."

Nao's brow arched. "Is that jealousy I hear? Or judgement?"

Vi's cheeks heated. Her palms, skating down the hourglass dip of Nao's waist, starfished her full hips. "I just don't get it, is all. You could've had any heavy hitter in the world. Instead, you've got a guy who's—" The words stuck like paste. "He's fucking awful, Nao. A monster. You can't tell me you enjoy being with him. Even if you're just playing a part."

Nao's head tipped, as though pondering the clumsy words. Then she shook it. "It's not about enjoyment."

"Then what is it about?"

"Power," Nao said simply. "The Eye controls the underworld. I control his pleasure. With one hand, I give. With the other, I take. It's a balance. And in between, for a little while, we're both satisfied." She shrugged. " I've had clients far worse. Men who can't be bothered to shower, let alone groom. Others who think their cocks are magic, or a woman's body is the mouth of hell. The most tedious are the ones who need to be coaxed out of their shell, and coaxed to sleep after." She gave a wry laugh. "They don't need a fuck. They need their mother."

Vi's heart gave a sick patter. "And him? What's he need?"

"His needs are—complex. There's a labyrinth where his mind should be. You never know what turn he'll take or what door he'll slam shut. You're always left second-guessing. Always waiting for the blow-up." A strange smile slinked across her lips. "In the bedroom, that's not without its merits. Sometimes, he reminds me of you."

Vi bridled. "Ugh, that's sick."

"That's the truth." She leaned in, the tips of her breasts ghosting Vi's. Between them, her pendant was an icy lick. The Eye's insignia flashed, and her own eyes glinted. "He's harder to read than you are. Harder to satisfy. But in a good mood, he can be generous. Patient. And very... inventive."

Revulsion crept through Vi. The idea of Silco and Nao, in bed, doing the same thing she and Vi had shared, was beyond the pale. She didn't even dare contemplate what perversions he might be capable of.

And yet...

"What's he like when he's not?" she said, then instantly regretted it. "I mean—he doesn't... force you, does he?"

Nao laughed, but it held no mirth. "It's not about force, Vi. It’s about loyalty. That's the currency he deals in."

"Blood and bullets."

"No. Those are tools. What he's willing to trade. What he wants?" A beat. "That’s simpler."

"What do you mean?"

Nao swooped in, and nuzzled her ear. "Everything."

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane vi #arcane violet #vi #violet #nao/maven #snippet

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regenderate-fic · 3 months

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Let Me Spin and Excite You

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Fifteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Fifteenth Doctor, Rose Tyler Rating: General Word Count: 1,932 Other Tags: Reunions, Immortal Rose, Bad Wolf as Disability

Read on AO3

Summary: After years of looking for the Doctor, Rose meets a strange-but-familiar man at the club.

NOTES: i happened to finish this on esther's birthday so it's for him now. everyone say happy birthday @nounpolycule

anyway i have a ton of long wips that are going super slowly because of how grad school owns my entire soul now so this is my attempt to remind myself that i can write things that are short sometimes.

title from may i have this dance by francis and the lights. which has some of my favorite lyrics of any song and i'm forever mad at spotify for not telling me the version of it i first discovered is a cover (by meadowlark)

Rose leaned against the bar, drink in hand.

The glass was full. Half an hour, and she hadn't even taken a sip. She'd meant to try and relax a bit, let loose, but it just wasn't happening. Her head hurt, her bones ached, and she felt the ever-present exhaustion hovering over her, threatening to take her out at the knees.

Not to mention—ten years.

She'd been back in this universe for ten years. And she still hadn’t found the Doctor.

She'd tried, of course. She'd looked for unusual happenings, bumps in the timeline, anything that might indicate the presence of a haphazardly landed time ship and its ridiculous occupant. She'd chased a million leads, ironed out as many of time’s odd little wrinkles as she could manage, followed timelines across millennia—running into the Doctor should've been inevitable, after all that. And yet she still hadn’t seen them.

And now here she was, slumped against the wall, trying to convince herself that this was still the sort of thing she enjoyed.

She sighed. Maybe it was time to go. She tipped what was left of her drink into her mouth and turned to leave.

But just as she started for the door, a flurry of motion caught her eye.

She disregarded it at first. It was coming from the dance floor, for goodness sake. Surely there was enough movement there to turn anyone’s head. But—no, this was an unexpected movement. Something out of time.

Rose turned to look.

Immediately, she was transfixed.

The densely-packed crowd of dancers all but faded away around the dancer who'd caught her eye.

Beautiful was the only word for him. He practically gleamed in the club lights—the sheen of sweat on his skin somehow made him more entrancing. He moved with a fluid ease, even as the moves themselves were unlike anything anyone else was doing. And there was something about him… Rose couldn't tear her eyes away. He just looked so joyful.

Tears startled her at the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She missed that sort of joy—that carefree movement, lost in a sea of people.

To hell with it. One dance wouldn't kill her. Rose took a step towards the dance floor.

Never mind. Maybe it would kill her, figuratively speaking. The bright lights and loud noises were doing nothing for her headache. Why had she come here again? She'd enjoyed nightclubs, once, but since then every cell in her body had surely changed, fallen away only to be wholly replaced. She could hardly expect to be the same person she was.

Still. It was nice to indulge the fantasy.

The dancing man had his hands above his head, skirt fanning out as he twirled. As Rose watched, he came to a stop, and then—

Was he looking at her?

Rose fiddled with the hem of her jacket. She probably looked out of place, in long pants and a full-on leather jacket, with barely any makeup. She hadn't minded, but now she'd been caught out, staring unabashedly at this man, and her usual armor wasn't quite right for the scenario.

The man stepped off the dance floor. He walked like he was still dancing, with graceful, deliberate steps. Rose forced her eyes to stay trained on the dance floor as he walked past her, presumably to the bar.

She'd been standing for too long. If she wasn't going to leave the club, she needed to find a place to sit. She looked around. Most of the tables were completely full—but then she noticed a group of people getting up, and Rose hurried over to take their table before anyone else could claim it. She kept an idle eye on the dance floor. She wasn’t up for it now—but a hundred years ago, she would've been there, carefree and having the time of her life.

There was movement in her periphery. She looked towards it only to see the man from earlier, now lowering himself into the chair next to her. He was holding two glasses.

“This your drink?” he asked, offering one to her.

Rose eyed him. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He settled into the chair. “D’you come here a lot, then?”

Rose burst out laughing. “You're really opening with the oldest line in the book?”

“I didn't mean it like that.” He flashed a smile. “I'm not from around here. Don't know the scene.”

Rose hesitated. “It's not my usual haunt, no.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Where are you from, then?”

He waved a hand. “Here and there.”

“How specific.” Rose felt herself start to smile. “And, I have to ask. Why are you here?”

“What?”

Rose nodded at the dance floor. “You've got a whole club to talk to. What are you doing here?”

He pointed at her. “You were looking at me.”

“Can't imagine I'm the only one,” Rose said, and then she blushed. She hadn't meant to be flirting—but, well, why shouldn't she? It would be ludicrous to pretend she wasn't attracted. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Got a big old skeleton in your closet, have you?”

“I've barely got a closet,” Rose said, truthfully. She kept a small flat, but it wasn't really home to her. No need for closet space, not when she hadn't bought new clothes in four years. “No room for skeletons.”

“That's a shame.” The man grinned. “There's always under the bed, I suppose.”

The space under Rose’s bed was full of random bits of alien tech she hadn't gotten around to investigating. “Not my bed,” she said. “No room, what with all the doodads I've got.”

“That's a technical term, is it?” He was smiling.

Rose smiled back. “Oh, yeah, definitely. I'm great with doodads.”

“How about thingamajigs?”

“Absolutely. One hundred percent. I'm there.”

He and Rose grinned at each other, and suddenly Rose was sitting in a chippy just off the Powell Estate, her feet knocking against the Doctor’s as they laughed.

She blinked.

That feeling—the fizzy joy of an easy back-and-forth—it had been at least ten years since she’d felt that way. It was nearly alien to her now.

But… it was nice. And there was no harm in it, was there? If this frankly gorgeous man wanted to buy her a drink and have a bit of flirty banter—well, she wasn't exactly going to say no.

The man gestured towards the dance floor with a flourish. “Would you like to dance?”

Rose weighed her options. There was a reason she’d held back, before. But… this was different. Unwise as dancing may be, this man was very quickly beginning to seem worth the sacrifice.

“Yeah, all right,” she said. She smiled. “Show me your moves.”

The man’s face lit up. He held out a hand to Rose, and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. Before, when she was watching him, she’d felt like he reflected light outward, shining on the whole club, and now she shared in his glow, moving without care, lost in the light and sound, anchored entirely by this strange man’s hands at her waist.

It was the most she’d been touched in years. She felt a bit intoxicated—or maybe that was the alcohol—a bit light-headed—or maybe she’d just been upright too long—a bit exhilarated—and there was no way to explain that away.

The dance felt like it lasted forever, but both common sense and time sense told Rose it could've only been a few minutes before she started to feel out of breath.

“You all right?” He had to yell in her ear to be heard.

“Yeah, fine!” Rose hesitated. “D’you want to get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” His hand fit wonderfully around hers, and they stepped out onto the street together. The cool evening air was a welcome respite from the warm fervor of the club. Rose laughed to feel it on her face.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

The man gestured. “My place is just around the corner, if that's all right with you.”

Rose glanced at him. He was still grinning, still gorgeous, his face illuminated by the bright neon of the club’s sign. This night had been strange in the best way—she hardly objected to continuing it. “Lead the way, then.”

His grin grew, as if that was even possible, as if he had infinite capacity for joy. Together, they walked to the street corner—turned—

Rose felt it before she saw it. A rushing familiarity, a glorious sense of home, a giant weight lifted from her bones. She blinked. There it was: a wooden blue police box, innocently positioned in the center of a streetlight’s beam.

The TARDIS.

Her brain was short-circuiting. She'd stopped walking. She was staring. The TARDIS was here. The TARDIS was here, which meant the Doctor was here. The Doctor was—

She looked back at the man she was walking with. He was still grinning, his gaze fixed entirely, expectantly, on Rose.

Rose gasped. Her body felt like it was on fire. She looked from him to the TARDIS—back to him—her lips parted—she breathed out—and on her breath there was a name.

“Doctor?”

The look in his eyes was so achingly tender she wanted to cry. When he said her name, it sounded the same as it always had—low, soft, with an echo of reverence. “Rose Tyler.”

She fell into him. Immediately, instinctively, his arms wrapped around her waist, and she closed her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

She felt the vibrations in his chest when he laughed.

“Thought it would be more fun if you figured it out for yourself. And I was right, if you were wondering.”

He pulled back. His eyes met hers, and she stared, trying her hardest to take in the collection of features that made up this Doctor’s face.

“Oh, I missed you,” he breathed.

The words sank into Rose, settled into her bones.

“Not even going to ask how you got here,” he added. “Or how long it's been.”

“Dimension cannon,” Rose said. “And—hundred years?”

“Oh! Because—”

“Bad wolf, yeah.” Rose grimaced. “Turns out looking into all of time has some side effects.”

“Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry. I should've known.”

Rose shook her head. “Water under the bridge. Don’t apologize for that.” She raised her eyebrows. “Apologize for being so bloody hard to find. Been looking for years, I have, and best I can manage is a chance encounter?”

“Ah, the TARDIS knew what she was doing, landing here.”

“Typical. Blaming the TARDIS.” Rose scoffed. “Still haven’t forgotten about twelve months.”

“That was one time!”

“Scotland? Queen Victoria? Where were we trying to go then?”

“Oi, I made it to Sheffield eventually—”

“Not with me you didn’t!”

Their eyes met, and suddenly they were both laughing, falling into each other, and the Doctor’s arm curled around Rose’s waist as he asked, “What do you say, then? Fancy a trip?”

Rose let her head fall against his side. “Fancy a good night’s sleep first.”

“Hey, I've got beds.”

Rose smiled. “I've missed that time machine of yours.”

“Just between you and me? I think she's missed you too.” The Doctor dropped his arm from Rose’s waist in favor of taking her hand, and as he entwined his fingers with hers, they stepped together in the direction of the TARDIS.

#doctor who #fanfiction #my fic #fifteenrose #fifteen x rose #fifteenth doctor #rose tyler #short #doctorrose #doctor x rose

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gaywalker80085 · 2 years

Text

Flat pt 2

Natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff idk

warnings: suggestive themes

A/N: Not proofread. Requests are more open than your moms legs please send me some besides a part 3 to this I have no more content ideas. I don't think this part was as good as the first.

Masterlist

Part 1 Side part

"You don't have to take her you know, I can find someone else." Natasha says flipping the pancakes. Though she says this she hopes you insist so she can see more of you. "I want to take her I can pick her up too."

"Don't you have a job you need to get to during the day?" She asks looking at you quizzically. "I'm at the top of my job so if I want to only work a couple of hours then I'm only working a couple of hours. I'll just go when shes in school."

Natasha just stares at you for a second contemplating. "Where do you work." You try not to show the shock on your face especially since you should've seen this question coming. "Wealth Management type deal. People owe money I make sure it's paid"

She gives a thoughtful hum plating y'alls food and your phone goes off. "Speak of the devil. I'll be right back." You answer your phone as you're making your way outside. "Is it an emergency I told you not to call." You hear Bucky on the other end "We have him but his people are coming soon."

Oh My God "Why do you decide to do your job right when I'm doing something I actually want to. When I was at that boring ass party the other day you had nothing." "I'm sorry boss we can try to keep him on the move." You let out a sigh "No its fine I'll be there in 30."

You go back in with a apologetic smile. "You have to go." Natasha states with a straight face. "Yeah but I can come back after it'll take 3 hours max." Natasha seems like she likes your answer but still keeps a straight face. "Okay you can bring clothes if you want and just sleep here while you're taking her to school." "Sounds like a plan." You give her a kiss on her forehead and leave.

Natasha was left feeling uneasy because she could tell you weren't telling her something but she didn't think she was in the place to push it yet. You came back almost exactly 3 hours later with clothes a slushy and chocolates. When you knocked on the door it opened no more than 5 seconds later.

You gave Natasha the best smile you could muster still slightly panting from the rush to her house and from fear she'd be upset with you for leaving so abruptly. To your surprise when she saw you she immediately started beaming and that relieved most of your worries.

"Whats that?" She questioned pointing to the slushy and chocolates. "I got you chocolate and Alana a slushy to make my amends for having to leave." You say with faux seriousness. She raises her eyebrows amused and hums. "Come in then you're going to let bugs in."

You step inside and take your shoes off. Alana comes running and you hand her the slushy. She squeals in excitement hugging your leg and running to the kitchen to drink it. You can't help but smile at her. She looks just like a tiny version of Natasha the red hair, the green eyes and you can tell she has the fierceness too.

Natasha is standing next to you and she uses her finger to turn your face towards her. She goes on her tip toes a little bit to brush her lips across yours and you stop breathing, and functioning all together. "Thank you baby." She says in a low tone and you whisper. "You're welcome."

She pulls back and gives you a pat on your cheek along with a knowing smirk turning to walk to the kitchen. She knows the effect she has on you and she likes it. "You're too easy to distract." She says as she holds the chocolates and your wallet in her hand. "WHA-"

You jog to catch up with her and take your wallet out of her hand. "I let you do that." "I'll let you think that." She says still walking. When you get in the kitchen you see Alana has already downed most of the slushy and you know what's about to happen.

She all of a sudden stops drinking and looks and Natasha and then you. "Brainfreeze." She states and then scrunches her eyes shut. You walk till your across the counter from her and reach to tap her arm. "Rub your tongue on the roof of your mouth."

You can see the underside of her jaw moving so you know she listened. After a few seconds pass she opens her eyes with a gasp. "It worked!" You smile victoriously and give her a high-five. You turn to see Natasha and she has a soft smile on her face.

You all spend the rest of the night watching TV and playing games. Yall we're playing trouble you and Alana vs Natasha because she wanted to be on your team. Alana had been leaning on you for a while until she eventually just fully sitting on your lap head in the crook of your neck knocked out.

Natasha was sitting there enjoying the scene until she realized you were stiff as a board. You like kids you really do but you are honestly terrified of making her uncomfortable and/or waking her up. Natasha let out a giggle before scooping her up.

"She's a deep sleeper you could've held her upside down by the ankles and she would've kept on sleeping." You smile at that and follow her up the stairs. After she puts Alana to bed she quietly closes the door and turns to you. She grabs your chin between her pointer finger and her thumb pulling you down and giving you a gentle peck.

She smiles and grabs your hand pulling you to her bedroom. "I'm going to shower." She says as she walks to the bathroom taking her shirt off. You watched mouth agape not knowing what to do with yourself. She turned into the door but didn't close it and a few seconds later while she was pulling her pants down she peeked her head out. "Are you coming?" You smiled quickly nodding your head and rushing to follow her.

As you got into the bathroom you only caught a glimpse of her pulling her leg into the shower. You quickly started yanking your clothes off and got in with her. Her back was to you and you couldn't help but take a look at her backside. You took a few small steps towards her and grabbed her waist.

You pulled her against you and started placing kisses at the base of her neck. She craned her neck to the side to give you more access. You found one of the spots you had noticed was particularly sensitive last night and nipped at it soothing it with your tongue.

At that she started pushing back into you and grabbed your hands bringing them up to her breasts. You started gently massaging them switching to kiss along the other side of her neck. After a few minutes she needed more. She turned around in your hold to start kissing up your neck and across your jaw.

You turned your head to meet your lips with hers and put your hands under her thighs and pulled her up to wrap her legs around you.

After you had your steamy shower (pun intended) and did your nighttime routines you layed down with Natashas head on your chest. She turned her head to face you and started drawing shapes at the top of your chest concentrating on her finger. "Where'd you go earlier." The question caught you off guard and you looked down at her. "I went to work I told you that." You said softly as you began raking your fingers through her hair and looked back at the ceiling.

Her fingers stopped and started tapping and you looked back down at her. You could tell she was contemplating saying something else. You put your finger under her chin and brought her lips to yours. "What is it sweetheart?" You asked her trying to look into her eyes but she was looking away. She kept looking around silently until she let out a huff and muttered "Yeah but where did you go?"

You realize she means location and you don't know how to explain it without potentially scaring her away. You don't want her to think your line of work could put her or Alana into harms way. You wouldn't risk starting to get close with them if that was a possibility.

"I went to a storage facility because someone there owed me money." You stated. "Did they pay you the money?" She asked glancing up into your eyes before looking back at her fingers. "Yeah the money plus a late fee." You told her moving your hand to rub her cheek with your thumb.

You weren't lying there was someone who owed you money at that facility and you did get the money plus some from them. You just left out the part where they were in one of the units and you beat them into giving it to you. She let it go and gave you a kiss before turning over to go to sleep.

You woke up to Natasha combing her fingers through your hair, calling your name. "Y/N it's time to get up." You groaned rolling onto your stomach shoving your face into the pillow. She laughed at you and pulled your shoulder so you rolled onto your back. You held the pillow so it stayed on your face and she straddled your hips.

She reached down and slowly took the pillow down and you squinted wanting to look at her but not wanting the light to hurt your eyes. She smiled at you and leaned in to kiss you. She started rolling her hips against yours and you moved your hands to grip her waist. The kiss started to get heated but she pulled away and promptly made her way out of the room.

"Breakfast is ready sleepy head time to get up." She yelled to you from the hall. "Ugh okay okay I'm up." You groaned. You got dressed and made your way to the kitchen to see her and Alana laughing. She gives Alana a kiss on the head and walks up to you. "Okay I have to go she's ready and I texted you the address. Doors open at 8:30 she likes to be there at 8:25 and she gets let out at 3:30 you have to wait for her at the front doors of the school." She tells you

You say "Okay." Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and she smiles before giving you a quick kiss and leaving. You look at Alana who has just finished her breakfast and she walks to the sink trying to put her dishes in but she can't reach. You walk over, place them in the sink and rinse them out. Out of the blue you hear her ask "Is Mommy your girlfriend?" You snap your head towards her with widened eyes. "Uh I don't know maybe you should ask her when she gets home from work." She squinted her eyes at you and goes to watch TV.

You look at the time and it's 7:43 you look up the address and it's 16 minutes away. You eat your breakfast and get ready. You grab the carseat Natasha left by the front door and put it in your car. After grabbing Alana and making sure she had everything you take her to school.

You drop her off without a hitch and decide to go and actually get some work done. You go to your warehouse and decide on getting your finances in order so that's what you decide to do. Around 2:45 you decide to check how long it will take to get to Alanas school and it's 22 minutes. You're wrapping up some paper work when you glance at the clock.

3:14.

While it wouldn't be that bad for anything else to be 6 minutes late this is bad. You burst up from your chair grab your coat and keys and make a mad dash for your car. You start it before even getting buckled going 20 miles over the speed limit practically the whole way. You're just about to turn onto the road her school is on with 2 minutes to spare when you see red and blue lights.

You hope and pray this guy is on your payroll you can not be late to pick up the girl your datings daughter. He gets to the window and when he sticks his head down you could just punch him. "SAM, Go away I have to pick my friends daughter up from school!" You say at him annoyed. "Ooooh your friend. Is it your GiRlFrIeNd." He says laughing. "Fuck off." Is all you say before pulling away.

You get there as the bell rings and you run up to the front and try to act like you've been there the whole time. You see Alana come out and she looks a little anxious until she sees you and then had a small smile. "Hi Y/N." She says grabbing your hand. "Hey, how was school?" You ask "It was good, except this boy kept bothering me all class." She says shrugging. "Does he bother you a lot?" "Yeah pretty much everyday none of the teachers stop him because his dad is rich."

"Whats his name?" You ask her. "Tommy Maximoff." She says looking at you. "I'll have it taken care of." Is all you tell her. You know the Maximoffs more specifically Vision. All of his wealth comes from you and he gets on you're nerves but he's a good connection to have. You see his wife among the sea of children and parents. You stare at her until she looks towards you and when she does you send her a wink.

While you do like Natasha a lot you do have to admit that Visions wife wanda is hot. You might just have a thing for moms but that's besides the point. You've slept with Mrs.Maximoff a few times. Her husband's annoying and she's hot what other reason does there need to be.

You take Alana back to Natashas after stopping for ice cream. When you get inside you help Alana with her homework and then y'all chill on the couch until Natasha gets home.

"I'm back!" Is all you hear before Alana is off the couch and running to the front door. You get up and go to follow her. When you get there Natasha had Alana on her hip and they're talking about her day. You walk up and give Natasha a kiss on her cheek before grabbing her bags from work to take to her kitchen.

They come into the kitchen and you look over to see Alana whispering into Natashas ear and you see Natashas eyes go wide.

A/N: I feel like this was kind of dragged on but idk. I didn't really mean to make reader a mob boss sort of deal but I didn't want them to be a biker working a 9 to 5 and I wanted to keep it interesting. I'll probably make 1 more part and that will be it.

Side part

Taglist:

@theblackdalialived

#natasha romanoff smut #bottom nat #natasha romanoff x you #bottom!natasha #natasha romanoff x reader #top!reader #natasha smut #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you

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blastburned · 8 days

Text

- record breaking rainfalls this evening. The Weather Institute would like to remind everyone of the following emergency tips...

The people in the hanging streets with huge tower speakers were saying the world is ending while the clearly nervous meteorologist on Red’s PokeGear was crowing out the unbelievable forecasts for Hoenn’s major areas.

Among drying clothes hanging above the old Secret Base heating unit, Pikachu was bouncing from Pokemon shaped beanbag to beanbag. It had been seven years since he’d used the place as a home, and since then, various tenants had stored their hard wrought earnings from the guild here.

There were top prizes for guild investment in every corner of the space, soft beds and mattresses, huge conversation pieces against the walls, collections of curios arranged in shelving units. There were several couches and loveseats that other tenants had left behind, and Pikachu had been rubbing against and bouncing off of each one.

Seven years was a long time to be away from a space and have it change around him. Lying prone on the soft couches, listening to the unbelievable weather, it was like being a time traveler.

Years ago, Leaf had stood on the other side of this room and told him she was leaving to explore and she didn't know when she'd be back, which left a hollow feeling in his chest.

It wasn't heartbreak but he remembered that moment being poignantly the moment where he couldn't feel anything. That was the moment that he should've felt upset, afraid, or something else, but she left and shut the door behind her. She'd asked him to come with him and she'd left to fight her own demons. He did not hold it against her.

That emptiness had to happen, in order for him to leave Fortree in the first place.

- The Weather Institute is going to be busy this weekend. The impact is going to be so widespread and we've been doing outreach and q+a this entire day. We are tracking five powerful storm systems in the area...

"Pika..."

Red turned his head to where the mouse was pressed against the hefty window, light sputtering behind him in soft stars.

[What's up?]

"Pika- pika-."

The world was ending in Hoenn, and the parties as the world was ending were lighting the city in the trees up in waves. Music was pounding from buildings below them, and there were people dancing in flooded causeways (dangerous), and other people sitting on rooftops and tossing back booze like there wasn't going to be a tomorrow.

Red walked over to the window, hand automatically moving to squish Pikachu's heavy back on reflex.

[Parties. Scared people throwing parties.]

Pikachu looked at him, and sparked, punting the window with his fist.

- ... shaping up to be an explosive storm season... here are the Institute's safety suggestions on how to weather these sudden storms...

[You wanna go?]

There wasn't really a need to ask the question. He'd just gotten in, and he was already throwing on his coat again to head out into the storm. He turned the radio off with a click.

Seven years meant nothing to the place that was whittling away the barriers between what was today and the inevitable end of days.

The four guys outside the loudest estate in the city were hooting with their four Pelippers about good old days, and hailed him over before he even had a chance to do the song and dance of not being able to speak. Of course he wouldn't be able to speak, they were loud enough to talk for him.

The old guys passed him a drink of something home brewed and despite prior experiences of not taking drinks from strangers, Pikachu sniffed it, called it fine, and that was the end of that. He passed one of the guys a couple RageCandyBars to split between the lot, and one of them fished in the absolutely hellish downpour off the nearly flooded bridge.

They got about half an hour in to talking before any of them realized Red couldn't talk. Truthfully, it didn't matter. Nobody could hear a damn thing over the rain, and they were all laughing about his chubby electric rat bouncing between them for attention.

There was an entire lower city below their legs somewhere, and Red could see it by dipping his water shoe into the roiling water and looking under the shadow into sunken Fortree.

The world is ending here in fire and rain. He can't tell the old boys hanging their feet off the edge of the bridge connecting one chunk of Fortree to another, that he's been at this precipice before, and that they'll all wake up tomorrow thinking this was the day the world was going to end.

One good drink later, and Red pat both knees with the burn of definitely moonshine in his throat, and headed off the bridge-turned-dock, the abyss's true depths hidden by the rain. The old boys toasted him and Pikachu said goodbye, bounding to follow him over the bridge into a party he had no context for.

No context wasn't a problem. The music was loud and people were exchanging emergency evacuation resources like it was an open market. Some people were dancing in a large dimmed room, some people were holed up together and chatting about fonder memories while watching news highlights of buildings collapsing in the hellish climate and asphalt melting in the sun.

Pikachu nudged his walk along through the place, hot air blasting his damp clothes. A stranger with a head bound Wurmple asked him if he wanted a jacket and he shook his head no politely, smiling while Pikachu immediately hooked the man's attention with a sweet set of eyes.

The usual song and dance came next- I can't talk sorry.

When Jareth used his hands to talk, it was a step back from the end of the world. Suddenly, tomorrow was a little more real. Pikachu let out a too-loud shriek of excitement at it and the group of blanket laden people stuffed on a couch watching the news looked up at the both of them.

- ... as you can see the path of the latest waterspout is expected to make landfall in the next few minutes-

[Are you deaf? Hard of Hearing? Hearing?]

Wurmple wobbled with his sign, accentuating the facial accent. It was so endearing it made him laugh, a little wet cough.

[No, not deaf, mute, not deaf. Actually mute. Can’t talk. Just sign. Or write. Where did you go to school to sign?]

- ... It’s something really unique to see a waterspout sustained like this-

[Not school. Mom is deaf. Sign is my first language. You’ve got a funny accent for Hoenn-]

- ... to avoid a waterspout on the water, The Weather Institute recommends moving at the following angle to its apparent movement…-

[Kanto. From Kanto. Name’s RED.]

- … anticipating landfall for several of them…-

[JARETH. Nice to meet you.]

The television behind Jareth’s back stuttered, freezing on a smeared, pixelated frame of a meteorologist standing in the rain. The music cut, and light flickered overhead as the movement of the weather shook the foundation boards with a groan. The wind outside roared in the sudden silent confusion..

- … Hey, you.

Red’s vision refocused from Jareth’s wiggling, silhouetted Wurmple to the frozen television. The music cut in with a heavy bass thump and the person on screen’s torso was bisected by a distortion line crawling across the screen. The red chyron line at the bottom kept moving, and the people crowded around didn’t acknowledge the broken-ness.

Jareth moved his hands in [are you alright?], bringing Red’s vision back to his hands. Pikachu was chewing on his cheek to get his attention.

[Yeah, yeah. No problem, tell me more-].

Jareth was an expat of Unova nested here and playing host to a packed typhoon party. A pen magically found its way into Red's hands from someone else's pocket, and so did a damp notepad, as Jareth released him to the dim rest of the building.

Before long, he was dancing with strangers, Pikachu on his shoulder. That knife edge of tomorrow never coming was present in the room, and the warm fuzzy feeling of alcohol in his gut kept him smiling effortlessly as faces came and went.

A heavy set guy with a huge smile and sun-baked skin boasted to the dancing group that he was going to surf the waves cresting around Sootopolis. He showed pictures on his PokéNav of his handsome, scar spattered Gyarados bursting through the surface tension of an angry sea. Now that would be a worthy challenge for the end of days. A song ended, and in the interim, there was a faint noise.

Faint, but rich, and deep, like the wailing of a train whistle miles away, but one so profound that it made something in him ache, and one of his partners tapped his shoulder to say, “Hey, you’re bleeding.”

And the music started again.

He excused himself at that song to clap a hand over his suddenly profusely bleeding nose, fumbling through crowds of people having good times. Pikachu clung to his back, chatting to him about where everyone was saying the washroom was. Dark hallways later, he slipped past a tall Grovyle and a Buizel into the wash room, collecting already damp with humidity tissues to press against his face and pinch.

Other people were using the facilities as well. There were three people sitting in the shower across the separator hall and people reaching over him to use the same spigot. Red tucked back against a free wall with his ball of tissues and Pikachu hopping off to grab more. The mirror above the sink was crowded with reflections, his looking lonely under a smeared thumbprint.

He watched his reflection look at him and stare, and stare while the bulbs of an overhead light flickered.

Pikachu shoved tissues into his hands, and they fell between his fingers into puddles on the floor before someone again asked if he was okay.

A nod and a scrunched expression later and it was just a nosebleed. A nosebleed that subsided and let him splash himself clean while Pikachu encouraged him to leave if he wasn’t feeling great.

Just some air out of the building would be better than anything else.

The world was ending in Hoenn, and Red slipped out a side door, onto another suspended walkway hanging dangerously close to the current. Pikachu heaved a sigh with him, patting his leg as they both were drenched immediately. The lights and music behind them continued on, as did the party, and he was far from the only one still hanging out in the open downpour. There were plenty of people still moving about their lives despite it.

[Overwhelmed.]

Appropriately, it was the same sign for drowning.

“The weather’s really loud, yeah,” Pikachu offered as he leapt up Red’s shoulder, “It’s like a giant’s voice, screaming. Even louder than before.”

Red nodded along, scratching the soft spot under Pikachu’s chin. The crowd was unsympathetic. Even as the lights went truly out with another heavy bout of wind, they didn’t catch the same booming whalesong he did.

Red leaned on Pikachu’s body, and watched the flooded vista among the sunken treetops, the distant shapes of people muffled in the rain.

Except one. A kid with a hat and a Poochyena that was leaning too far over the handrail of a bridge. Red watched, and stiffened as the kid reached out over the water, and so did Pikachu, who sparked in fear.

There was another long, drawn out wail. The lights and music were gone, and the little kid slipped without volume into the current below. No one seemed to notice.

The world is ending in Hoenn and Red whistled over the rain for Pikachu to use Surf.

#solo

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elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

The one with a plan:

Being friends with Nat goes sideways when you remember that she is a trained spy who is not against forming a plan to get her two favourite people together. @i-writes-things

I took this a little bit out of the request hope you still enjoy!

If someone would’ve told you 2 years ago that you were going to become an avenger then you would’ve probably believed them. I mean you had superhuman abilities so stranger things had happened. You had been scouted for ‘The Avengers Initiative’ by Fury himself after you had been put on their radar after a little accident including an old woman, a shopping trolley and some fire (in your defence that was an accident and if she would’ve had moved and not stolen out of your cart then it wouldn’t have happened). That was how you met your now best friend Natasha Romanoff.

Inseparable. With all the words the others could use to describe your friendship with Nat, that was the one that sprung to mind first. While you might have been younger that didn’t mean you were any less of a dynamic duo! After 2 years on the team doing missions that ranged from starting fires in the basement of a Hydra base to destroying information to making sure that some rich man had proper security for an event, you could safely say that your makeshift family was very very close. Way too close if they asked you. However no one did. That’s why you would continue to sit on Nats bed for at least an hour a night as you swapped stories about new recruits and how much you hated them.

That was how you had learnt about Peter Parker or Web Boy as Nat affectionately called him. You had been talking to Nat about the usual things; the one new agent who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, that one girl who constantly ‘got lost’ and wandered into the living quarters on nearly a weekly basis, and that one person who just didn’t know what they were doing. You aren’t too sure what they’re doing here if you’re being honest but that’s above your pay grade so that makes it someone else's problem.

That was until she decided to bring the new web slinger into the conversation. “Tony is obsessed with the kid, it’s endearing in a strange way” Nat sighed as she flopped herself onto the bed “Nat you think everything is strange about Tony, anyway I’m sure he’s sweet enough. At the very least he won't be totally clueless” you laughed. How have you become the level headed one in this friendship? “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she paused, taking an overly dramatic breath “you know he’s about your age, it’d be nice to finally have someone your age hanging around the compound” another pause “no pun intended”. You had to laugh at that, how could someone with a kill count larger than even the richest man's bank account be making puns without trying?! “Natasha, whatever you are thinking, I want you to stop. I have you guys! I don’t need any new friends” you spoke fiddling with the edge of the fluffy blanket you had stolen from Natasha the second you entered her room. “I wasn’t thinking about anything!” Oh you definitely didn’t like that look on her face.

Coincidentally you had met Peter a few days after your conversation with Nat. Well, more slammed into him as you turned a corner but first impressions aren’t everything. “Whoa hey I am so so so sorry” the boy stuttered, the tips of his ears turning a red that you were pretty sure matched the colour of Nat’s hair. “It’s nothing really, I should've been looking where I was going, it's not your fault”. It was his fault but when a stuttering cute boy slams into you, you don’t tell him that he is in the wrong. You had been on your way to a training session with Steve that you would’ve rather avoided anyway. “Are you the new arachnid on the team?” you questioned. You knew the answer, you just wanted to see how long you could put off turning into super soldier soup. “Uh yeah I am Spider Parker. I mean Peter man. I’m sorry Peter Parker nice to meet you” he chuckled, rubbing a hand nervously behind his neck, finding a very interesting stain on the cold tiles. “Y/n. I’ll see you around bug boy”.

From there your relationship with Peter flourished. You quickly found yourself seeking out his company whenever he came to visit (which did result in a semi permanent ban from Tony’s lab after a freak screw driver accident). The seeking out of company wasn’t just one way though, Peter found himself gravitating towards you whenever you were near. He also found himself thinking about you a whole lot more than he should’ve. There was no chance in hell that he was going to do something about it though, why would he? This was his first ‘super hero gig’, his first time joining the big guns. Why would he jeopardise that? He was also deathly afraid of Natasha which certainly didn’t help.

“Earth to Peter Parker” you shouted, throwing a pillow at his head, giggling a little as he jumped “sorry off in my own world” he replied, the same blush you saw on him when you met coating his cheeks once again. He had come to your room for your now weekly movie nights (which had all started after you confessed you hadn't watched any of the starwars movies) but honestly he had spent more time thinking about you than he had spent time watching the movies. It had become obvious when you let the credits roll and didn’t get his normal summary of the movie. “Right Parker, what are we doing now?” you asked more to yourself as you debated on whether to paint his nails or make him put a face mask on with you. “Do not think about putting a face mask on me, I don’t need Captain America hearing me cry” he warned, which would have seemed a little bit scarier if it weren't for the plethora of pillows piled around him. “Fine then nails it is”.

If only you would’ve seen the look on Nat’s face as she walked past the room to see you in a fit of giggles after peter spilt nail polish on his joggers. She couldn’t stand to watch you idiots dance around each other anymore. This called for a team intervention. Operation ‘Get the idiots together’ was officially in action.

People would’ve thought that being an avenger meant that you were on high alert every minute of every day. However, put someone's crush in front of them and they apparently forget every ounce of training they’ve learnt. That was how you ended up getting shoved into a utility closet from the red head you loved most. With the boy you had a crush on nonetheless! “Right you two are not allowed out until something happens because looking at the both of you makes me want to tear my hair out” her muffled voice came through the door. Groaning you both knew that unless one of you admitted your feelings (that you were entirely sure only went one way) you were not getting out of this. “Parker I swear I have no idea why she’s doing this' ' you pleaded with the boy, who when forced into a confined room with you didn't seem able to look you in the eye. “I- I might have some idea as to what she’s referring to” finally he looked up at you, you could see something in his eyes, an emotion that you didn’t recognise on him. “Parker if this is some prank I’d pay very close attention to your shampoo bottles for the next couple of months” you gritted out. Although there was no way that you thought he would do something like this to you it wouldn't be the first time hair remover ended up in the wrong bottle. Just ask Bucky. “No! It’s not I promise” he stopped “the other day Mr stark asked me to order some food to the compound, we were working on this new suit of his and we hadn’t eaten in a while and well we were kinda hungry” one thing you would say about Peter is when he went on ramble nothing would stop him. Well almost nothing. “Peter, your point?” you cut him off, listening to small spaces did nothing for your heart rate and you wanted out. “Right sorry, I went onto his phone and he hadn’t shut his messages, he was on a group chat started by Nat called ‘Operation get the idiots together’ and well yeah” oh. OH. Nat was so dead when you got out. “Look Peter I am so so sorry that you were forced into a cupboard, I swear I didn’t want you to find out like this and if you never want to talk to me again that’s completely fine by me, well it’s not fine but I’d respect it” it seemed the both of you were as bad as each other when it came to word vomit. “You feel the same way?” Now that is how you effectively shut someone up. “Yes- hang on, did you just say the same?!” your exclamation was soon cut off by F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice “operation ‘get the idiots together’ complete. Lock-down lifted”

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