#so. um. how does that work if I’m on my period

[seeingivy]

core memories

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

--

sukuna feels like he’s peeled off a layer of skin after that night. it all culminated into this thing for him - that raw tenderness associated with a deeply painful childhood memory, the warmth of a date in your hometown, and the fact that you crawled into the bath with him, just to hold him close. 

that you let down your own wall just because you were so eager to crawl into his. 

it’s why he feels like he’s irrevocably given some part of himself to you. at least that’s what he thinks anyways. 

and it only works – it only feels like something he desperately won’t be able to ever get back – and more importantly, wants you to keep, because the same thing happens to you (or at least he hopes it does) two weeks down the line. 

it starts out simple. 

you accidentally bleed onto his sheets during the night. 

sukuna wakes up to your side of the bed empty, and more alarmingly, the red splotch on his pristine white sheets, when he’s reminded of the memory. he can barely register it because your presence demands his attention immediately after and his throat feels like chalk.  

“hey, sukuna. can i ask for a weird favor?” you ask, peeking your head out of the doorway. 

sukuna pinches his lips together. 

“sure, angel. what’s up?” 

“can you run to the store and grab me some pads please? i didn’t realize it was already friday and that my period was going to start.” 

sukuna stands up, closing the distance before you, before he leans down to press a warm kiss to your forehead. 

“sure. what size is your pussy?” sukuna asks. 

you roll your eyes. 

“you’re hilarious. you should quit your job and start stand-up comedy.” 

“can’t exactly keep up with your expensive needs if i do that, now can i?” sukuna states, giving you a cheeky smile as you shut the door straight onto his face. 

“pads are ten dollars, sukuna.”

“i’m talking about how you linked my credit card to your doordash account and thought i wouldn’t notice.” sukuna deadpans. 

you give him a peachy smile, as you reach forward to poke his cheek. 

“have i ever told you that you’re the best boyfriend ever?” 

“nope.” 

“keep dreaming about it! i don’t plan to.” you state, giving him a wink as he all but glares at you. 

when you shut the door, sukuna’s quick to collect the sheets and throw them in the wash before his brisk walk out to the store. and he tries to figure it out – to find how exactly to make you feel the way he did that night. 

the memory’s replaying in his mind, with overwhelming detail, when he walks over there, and it sinks deeper into his chest the more detail he remembers.

of the day your dad left, when you came running over to him with blood running down your legs. 

--

you’re only reminded of the memory when sukuna comes back, with the box of pads with a heart-shaped chocolate placed on top. eerily enough, he’s nowhere to be found when you leave the shower, your skin still warm from the water as you look around. 

you unwrap the little pink foil as you pace around the flat for him, feet cold on the concrete, until you find him in the bedroom, pulling the sheets over the mattress. 

or at least attempting to. 

“want some help?” you ask. 

“i don’t need your chocolate covered hands on the clean sheets.” sukuna states, eyeing you.

“come lick it off my fingers if it’s bothering you so much.” you complain, setting the little foil on the nightstand. 

"don't tempt me."

you reach for the closest corner, pinning it down and tucking it under the mattress, as sukuna sends you a grateful smile, before throwing the other half of the blanket over to you. 

“i washed these yesterday, sukuna.” you mention. 

“yeah. um-” 

you look up at him, hands nearly trembling and the loud smacking of his phone falling out of his pocket as you walk over to his side, securing it from the floor.

it’s almost frightening – watching someone so collected fumble with their words. you figure this is how sukuna would feel if you were ever able to keep it together. 

“you okay, butter fingers?” you ask. 

“yeah. yeah, i’m fine. thanks, pretty girl.” he states. 

you hand him the phone, eyeing his shoddy work. 

“you barely even tucked the sheets in properly.” you complain, pushing him to the side, before reaching back for the blanket and smoothing it perfectly against the sheets. 

and before he can get away, you quickly reach for his wrists and pull him back. and you’re quick to nestle into his arms, digging your cheek into his shoulder as the smell of his cologne nearly obliterates your nostrils. 

“what’s wrong, baby?” you ask. 

there it is again. sukuna wants to strangle you. 

“stop fucking doing that.” he murmurs. 

“doing what?”

“y/n.” he warns. 

you pull back, bring your palms to his cheeks before squishing his face together. you can tell that he’s annoyed – and you’re entirely amused by it – as he tries to muster a sentence together through his squished lips. 

“am i supposed to read your mind, you big baby?” you coo. 

“i don’t like it when you say that.” sukuna states. 

you pause. 

“oh. i’m sorry. i just figured you were a big…pet names guy. you barely even call me by my name. but don’t worry, i-” 

“no.” 

“oh?” you ask, giving him your best smirk. 

you’re not sure how well it works when you do it. the teasing, bantering type thing when you’re trying to get him to loosen up. it had worked well enough in your favor the past few times – and you figured you’re almost…goofy charm was part of why sukuna liked you in the first place – so you’d try to use it when you could. 

“i don’t like it when you call me a big fucking baby. i'm not a fan of patronizing nicknames.” sukuna states. 

you smile. 

“but? it feels like there’s more to that statement.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“but. i like it when you call me that otherwise.” 

you tilt your head to the side. 

“okay, baby. but seriously, what’s wrong with you? you really only act like this when somethings up.” you state. 

it gets harder to hide things from you as time goes on. but that’s part of the risk anyways – of becoming so close you’re nearly intertwined. sukuna sighs, before giving you a firm squeeze at your sides. 

“i changed the sheets again because you leaked on them.” sukuna states. 

you nearly cringe, clenching your jaw. 

“ew, sukuna. oh my god. i’m so sorry, you should have told me so i could have-” 

“that’s nothing to apologize for.” he clarifies. 

“no, really. now you’re all grossed out by me so much that you’re being weird.” 

sukuna finds it irritating. you nearly find the good in everything, except for yourself. 

“i’m not grossed out by it.” he states. 

“i mean…” 

“it just reminded me. of the last time we…had something like this happen.” sukuna states. 

“the last time? we haven’t even-” 

but that’s when you remember. and the embarrassment that never really registered the first time establishes in full effect. so much so, that you have to change the topic just as fast, duck out the first chance you can get. 

--

sukuna can barely focus the entire workday. all he can think about is that memory in petrifying detail, now coupled with the fact that for the first time, he’s upset you so bad that you basically ran away from him. 

like fully went to class without even taking your backpack. because that’s how badly you didn’t want to talk to him. 

“what’s wrong with you?” 

sukuna looks up from his monitor to find shoko peering over at him from his desk, shifting a lollipop around in her mouth. 

“nothing.” 

“you look like you have a stick up your ass.” she states. 

“it takes one to know one. how’s your little situationship going?” 

shoko rolls her eyes. 

“perfectly fine. how’s your girlfriend?” 

“would it kill you to mind your own fucking business sometimes?” 

shoko smiles, before gesturing for suguru and satoru from the desks over. nanami’s too civilized for these type of things – which is why he’s the only person that’s not on sukuna’s hit list. 

sukuna can nearly feel his nostrils flaring the second satoru starts talking, the overwhelming urge to gouge his eyes out extremely powerful for nine in the morning. 

“trouble in paradise?” satoru asks, a sing-song voice in his tone. 

“something that’s familiar to you, i’m sure.” sukuna murmurs. 

“hey! you don’t have to be a dick.” satoru whines. 

sukuna rolls his eyes, nearly breaking the keys on his keyboard. 

“what happened? she realized she’s too good for you or something?” shoko states. 

“did she get weirded out because she basically used to be like your little sister?” satoru asks. 

“she was never like my little sister. and she’s only two years younger than me.” sukuna clarifies. 

“oh, we know all about that. you’ve always been our little happy camper when it comes to her.” satoru chides, earning him a fit of laughter from the group. 

the closet thing in sukuna’s vicinity is a stapler. luckily for him, satoru doesn’t see it coming at all and it hits him square in the face. that earns him laughter from the group, though it’s cheapened by the whining noises that come out of satoru's mouth afterwards. 

but it’s not fault, because in sukuna’s expert opinion, he was asking for it. 

sukuna’s lucky enough that he’s been able to keep the group of them away from you for a considerable amount of time. because they’ve been holding onto one of his deepest secrets – and if they were given the opportunity – they would take every chance to mortify him and spell it out for you in detail.

when sukuna came back from europe, he figured that any rebellious streak that he had was basically out of his system. though he always had a tendency to be a little bit bold and overconfident, he’d mellowed out. at least by his europe standards anyways. 

and when he met the group of them, they took him out to a bar and asked him a simple question. though it seems rather inappropriate in hindsight, it’s literally due to the copious amounts of alcohol that they all seem to drink – and nurse him into drinking too. 

it’s not his fault he misunderstood the question. 

who is the first person you ever slept with? 

sukuna realized later that the question was who was the first person that he ever had sex with. not the first person that he ever slept next to, that he cuddled with during the night. unfortunately for him, he answered the latter instead of the former – and in his tipsiness – told the group of them all about you before he had even dated you. 

that he was counting his lucky stars when yuuji was so sick to go on the trip and that sammy hates bugs, which meant that he got to be there alone with you and the other campers. the other families – their kids were far too old, meaning that the two of you were nearly stuck together. 

you taught him how to make smores, he taught you how to catch fish – though you were never really able to do it, so he opted to do it for you. and that your camping bag seemed to be misplaced on the last night, so you shyly climbed into his tent and asked if you could stay. 

“sukuna. hey, are you awake?” 

“jesus fucking christ.” 

sukuna watches as your eyes widen and you cower away with an apologetic look on your face, as you put your hands up. 

“sorry! i didn’t realize you were sleeping.” 

“my eyes were closed.” 

“okay, well. i kind of knew you were sleeping. but i need to ask for a favor.” 

“what’s wrong?” 

“i can’t find my camping bag. and my tent is so dinky that it doesn’t have the padding on the bottom, so it’s just the cold, muddy floor.” you murmur.

sukuna fights the urge to smile fully. whatever was responsible for ruining your sleeping bag was getting his full praise the next morning. 

“okay. scoot in.” 

“huh?” 

“well, i’m not going to let you sleep on the fucking floor without a blanket. and i’m not giving up my own either, because i don't like you that much, so just come here.” 

you wince. 

“really? is that not weird?” 

“i’ve known you since you were a fucking toddler, basically. i’ve watched you cry more times than i can count, seen you burp more than yuuji, and i’m convinced you farted in front of me one time.” 

the agitation in your face is almost funny.

“are you stupid, sukuna? i don’t fart.” 

“that’s biologically impossible.” 

“no, it’s not. you probably heard yuuji and thought it was me.” you state. 

“for the record, you most definitely did. just don’t fart on me in the night and we’ll be fine.” sukuna states. 

you roll your eyes as you discard your little camping pants, unaware of the way sukuna’s heart has just constricted in his chest.

maybe he would have taken the floor if he knew you were planning on sleeping in butterfly printed shorts. 

“well, now i’m going to wait and aim my fart right at you when it happens.” you respond, as you tuck yourself into the bag, pressed right up against him in the cold. 

"I thought you didn't fart."

"i'll adapt just to attack you with it."

his arm finds it’s way around you, the space so constricted that you almost had to intertwine to be any semblance of comfort. and it’s in the dim light of the little lantern that you find yourself face to face with sukuna, for what feels like the first time ever. 

his nose is nearly brushing against yours, the minty smell from his toothpaste nearly overwhelming. 

“sukuna?” 

“yeah?” he whispers. 

“thank you.” 

sukuna hopes that your head resting against his pounding chest doesn’t keep you up all night. 

“earth to fucking sukuna.” satoru states, shaking his hand in front of his eyes. 

he has a death wish. suguru must know that all too well, because he’s shooing shoko and satoru’s nosiness away, before he pulls up into the chair next to him. 

“alright. what happened?” suguru asks. 

“i just…brought up something from when we were kids by accident. about the day her dad left. and-and she was so shocked that she basically fucking ran out the door, to class, without taking her backpack because i upset her that badly.” sukuna grates. 

suguru’s mouth pinches into a line, before he leans his chin against the backs of his hands. 

“didn’t you say that she was really hard to read?” he asks. 

“sometimes.” 

“think you just caught her off guard. especially if she wasn’t thinking about it before. i think you should just send her a text to tell her to spend the night and that you can either talk about it or never bring it up again. you should let her make the call.” suguru states. 

“you don’t think i should….fucking leave her alone or something? she probably hates me for all i know.” 

“i don’t think you’re giving her enough credit. you’re her boyfriend. maybe she wants to talk about it now. especially if you were there – and now she’s reminded of it.” 

sukuna ponders the thought as suguru gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up, before he starts yanking on shoko and satoru’s ears in the periphery. 

he decides to jump. 

dear diamond of the season,  i’m sorry about this morning. i just brought it up on a whim and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. but also if you feel the need to let it out, my time is always yours anyways.  (please come home tonight or i will never recover emotionally)  (i am kidding. you’re free to take time to yourself if you need it. but also i’ve become too used to sleeping with you next to me and i will shave my head if you don’t come back.)  (am also curious how you are faring in class without a pencil, a notebook, or a laptop. you push the limits everyday, baby.) groveling on my hands and knees,  sukuna 

the response is fast. 

dear gentle reader, so much to unpack in one email. WHEN DID YOU WATCH BRIDGERTON?  (if you watched it for the period piece porn and not the romance, immediate breakup)  caught me a little bit off guard, but not in the bad way. kinda got stuck in my head about it all so…would be kind of nice to talk about it i guess? idk. i’ll see how i feel.  (and yes, i’m coming home, silly. i can’t stay away from my alpha wolf (insert barking sounds) for so long :D)  (shave your head and i will never fucking recover. i won’t talk to you till it grows back.) (i took notes on a napkin. not one of my finest moments, but i think it’s a testament to the versatility of women.)  just pooped in library bathroom,  y/n 

--

you come home to find sukuna at the stove and immediately press yourself flush to his skin. looping your arms around his torso, pressing your cheek to his bare skin – one of the few moments you can appreciate that he never really wears a shirt – as you sigh. 

“hi stinky.” you coo.

“absolutely not.” 

“boo. it’s romantic!” you whine. 

sukuna turns around, before cupping his fingers around your chin and tilting your face up. there’s a tired smile on your face – barely any makeup and your glasses instead of your contacts – that has him reeling. 

“how was your day, stinky?” he asks.

“the first day’s always the worst. feel like i have no energy.” you respond, leaning your head against his chest. 

“luckily for you, we’re having breakfast for dinner. and i have pain killers if it gets bad.” 

you smile.

“i’m starting to think you only know one fact about me and it’s that i like french toast.” 

“har har har. you’re hilarious, y/n!” he deadpans, flicking your forehead. 

he shoos you away, gesturing for you to go change, as he starts plating the food. and when you come back, the two of you cuddle under the blanket on the couch, with your plates warm in your hands. 

you look at the screen and promptly skip the scene. 

“hey.”

“why can’t we watch season two of bridgerton?” you ask. 

“because we’re watching it from the start together.” 

“there’s just so much…porn. and enemies to lovers is better than fake dating.”

“sweetheart. you’re like missing half of the plot when you skip those scenes.” 

“we’ve watched it before! i’m going to kill you.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, before reaching for the remote and switching to the second season. and well into the third episode – dirty plates stacked on top of each other on the ottoman – sukuna’s fingers running through your hair beckon you to talk. 

“sukuna.” 

“hm, baby?” 

“do you ever think about how knowing each other before has like….impacted our relationship?” you ask. 

he looks down at you, concentration from the screen broken. 

“sometimes. what are you thinking about?” 

sukuna reaches forward, pushing your glasses back to the bridge of your nose. 

“when you date other people, you kind of have to explain everything to them. shitty dads, complicated sisters…i feel like we skipped that part. but it��s also more complicated, because you have your own opinions on everything that happened because you were there too.” you murmur. 

“works in our favor too. i could never be as close to someone as i am to you. they’d never understand the depth of anything i told them, not like you would because you were actually there.” 

you nod. 

“that’s true. there’s nothing like understanding that my dad has hurt me than being the one who had to pick me up after that…” 

sukuna leans his head against the top of yours, your eyes lazily fixed on the screen, but not focusing. 

“can you tell me what you remember from that day?” you ask. 

sukuna hums in response. he’s not sure where that block in his throat came from and the wavering in his voice almost embarrasses him. 

“we could always hear them fighting. from the kitchen especially, since our windows were always open. and it was particularly loud that day.” sukuna starts. 

you can feel his hold on you tighten, the hand skirting underneath your shirt hard on your skin. 

“my mom and i knew something was wrong when we heard sammy. and then you. you…your voice was so small compared to his that…that it fucking scared me. it reminded me of yuuji…when he fights with our dad. my first thought was to go over there and fight him myself for you.” sukuna states. 

“you just wanted an excuse to fight with adults. especially at that age.” 

sukuna knows the joke is a deflection. your heart is barely in the statement. 

“and then i heard sammy crying and my heart dropped. i’ve…i’ve seen you cry plenty. but sammy’s so put together, tries so hard to be, that when she let it go, i was shocked. my mom kept telling me not to listen, that it was rude, but i was basically sticking my head out the window at that point.” 

you pinch your eyes for what comes next. 

“the doorbell rang and you were there. you…you were crying so hard and there was blood running down your legs. i almost called the police because i thought you were hurt.” 

“to be honest, i thought i was too. i’d never really gotten my period before, and i knew what they were, but i…i was so shocked when he was gone that i barely processed it.” you murmur. 

sukuna squeezes your arm. 

“i didn’t know that was your first period.” 

you tilt your head up, looking at his brown eyes. 

“yeah. your mom was the one who taught me….all the pads and tampons stuff. chocolate for cramps and all that. she actually did pretty well – considering the fact that she had to check on sammy and my mom after that too but still make me comfortable.” 

“i’m glad. it seemed so confusing to me at the time – when she sent yuuji and i to the store to grab the pads for you. i feel like she just didn’t want us there to...to not have two more people to worry about. and we really didn’t want to leave you. we basically ran to the store, through the aisles, before we got there and realized there’s like a hundred fucking brands of pads with different like…options and shit.” 

“feels like a good time to mention that you have a very good y/n-radar. you got the right ones this morning.” 

he smiles, his eyes focused on the table as he mindlessly runs his fingers through your hair. 

“you’re forgetting the good parts.” you state. 

“and what’s that?” 

you smile. 

“i know for a fact that your mom used to give you pocket money. and that you and yuuji saved it all to buy candy and chocolate. and you always used to keep it saved, for when you really wanted it, whereas yuuji ate it right away.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“and then he had the fucking audacity to complain. like maybe if you didn’t eat it all at once, it would have lasted longer, dipshit.” 

you lightly shove him. 

“you’re such a meanie. we were like babies.” 

“shut up. keep going.” 

“you shared your chocolate with me. it was a hershey’s with almonds in it. and when i curled my nose at that, you gave me a whole spiel about the very refined world of chocolate with nuts in it. about how the smooth silkiness of the chocolate was the perfect juxtaposition to the crunchiness of the nut.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that sounds inappropriate, baby.” 

“get your head out of the gutter. it was sweet. that you shared with me. made me smile. i’ve always felt like i’ve always got some lingering feelings for you but if i had to pinpoint it, that was probably when i started falling in love with you. and granted, that was so….juvenile at that point. i was like a teenager but…it does feel the same as it did then compared to now. falling in love with you.” 

sukuna’s quiet. you look over to find him staring at you, his breaths so slow that it catches you off guard. and before you can even asks what’s wrong, he’s looped his hands under your thighs, pulling you straight onto him to straddle his lap. 

you place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, cheeks burning at the way he’s looking up at you. 

“what did you just say to me?” he asks, voice quiet. 

“what?” 

“repeat. what you said.” 

that’s when you realize it. 

“oh, fuck. sukuna. i don’t want to rus-” 

“repeat it.” 

you swallow hard. 

“i…i’m falling in love with you?” 

“that sounds like a question.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“say it right.” he demands. 

you bite into the softness of your cheek, taking a deep breath, before you dig your fingers into the indents of his shoulders. 

“sukuna. i’m falling in love with you.” you murmur. 

sukuna’s eyes soften, his gaze so honey sweet and warm, that you can’t help but bring your hands to his cheeks. you lean closer, your faces only a few feet away from each other, as you smile back. 

“what is it?” you whisper.

“you’re falling in love with me.” he responds. like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“that’s right.” you confirm. 

sukuna smiles, before closing the space between you, the kiss so longing that it makes the core in the pit of your stomach burn, your chest flutter. he breaks the kiss, smiling and murmuring against your mouth as you lean against his forehead. 

“thanks for finally catching up, slow-poke.” 

--

next part linked here

an: this fic is purely vibes but we die like men. sukuna when he gets arrested on the day his grandfather but y/n when she accidentally has her first period in front of sukuna when her dad left. yup.

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[2melamoo2]

First post… um yeah!! :DD

katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

fluff

requested? no!

Time period - UA

Head cannons

prompt - How Katsuki shows affection!

Reader Personality - HYPER. (hence the sugar-rush nickname)

Reader Quirk - not mentioned

Katsuki has always struggled showing affection, so when he met you (and at some time later, started dating you) it was a BIG change for him.

He definitely needed an adjustment period to showing affection, which is why you guys kept your relationship a secret from the rest of 1A at the time.

He struggled with physical touch at the beginning, always afraid he would get too nervous, which would lead to him sweating, and then that means explosions and oh lord his hands are popping just thinking about it.

This meant he did everything BUT physical affection, but your relationship was a secret so i suppose this worked out.

He definitely used to cook your favorite foods when it was his turn to cook (and still does)

He also gave you extra food, if his girl wasn’t full by the end of the night, he hadn’t done something good

It does not matter if you are this mans girlfriend or not, he won’t take it easy on you when training (at least that’s what he says…)

Katsuki LOVES watching you fight, he gets all fluttery inside and is just so proud of you… because that’s HIS girl kicking ass.

Will always take care of you if you over work yourself. One time you ended up battering the fuck out of Sero, but after training you were done for the day. which meant straight up to bed and didn’t speak to anyone at all. After waiting a few minutes, to avoid suspicion of course, your knight in shining armor came up to your dorm with a one of his hoodies just for you and let you cuddle him while he finished his homework.

A few months into your relationship, Katsuki definitely started getting more comfortable, he would start complimenting you during training (obviously not outright like he wanted too… just the occasional “you actually did well for once”), started calling you different nicknames (definitely went from “sugar-rush” to “sweets”, if anyone asks it’s because of your personality… and they get their head blown off), and the biggest one of all, letting you hook his pinky with yours.

He was TERRIFIED of touching you. Didn’t want to do it at all. But the more it happened, the more he wanted too.

Katsuki didn’t initiate physical contact at first. It always started with you being touchy.

But now he can’t get enough of you, he physically can’t sleep without you in the same bed as him.

HE LOVES lying on your chest. wether you have flat or huge honkers, you best believe he is sleeping with his face right in between them.

Scratch. His. Head.

He gets migraines and his ears are definitely always ringing (due to his quirk), so when you scratch his head, everything goes out the window, it just feels amazing to him.

In Short - Katsuki Bakugo loves you.

FIRST POST WOOOOOO.

I’m no where near done with my head cannons… i just didn’t want this to be pages and pages long-

I hope you all enjoyed!! please feel free to send it requests!!

#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #katsuki x you #melamoo talks

[admirxation]

I am just thinking.

I feel like Leon isn't the type to mind wearing a condom. One day, when (y/n)'s so desperate for him that they don't give him time to roll one on, he tries to stop them, telling them that he needs to put one on. They insist that it's okay, they just need him so badly right now. Leon can't deny them. But, damn, after feeling their perfect walls against his bare cock, he's addicted.

Hi anon!

Thank you so much for this juicy thought, got me smiling and kicking my feet gurl! I defo see this with Leon.

I hope you like the little one shot I wrote.

<3

New sensation | Leon S. Kennedy

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Summary: The reader is desperate for Leon, not wanting to wait for anything and just have him all to herself.

Word Count: 1.3k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction ! I do not condone everything I write in real life, my writing does not reflect all my morals. If any of the following warnings trigger or make you feel uncomfortable, scroll away; you are in charge of what content you’re consuming. This work is 18+ only, minors are strongly advised not to interact.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ content. Female anatomy and she/her pronouns used for reader. Detailed smut, p in v, unprotected sex, bruises, nipple play, mutual release and creampie.

You and Leon had started a relationship a month ago, after a long period of crushing on one another until Leon finally confessed his feelings; entering this relationship gave you all the benefits of happiness, as well as a heightened sex drive by finally being able to do everything you wanted with him.

Currently, you were in his apartment, looking at him walking around the room with nothing but a towel around his waist and messy hair from coming out of the shower; just watching him made you want him more than ever — the way he looked was just so attractive and made you yearn for his touch. You stared at him, not caring about how you looked, lost in a daydream while twirling your hair and biting your lip.

“Are you okay, baby?” Leon asked as he felt your lustrous stare.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you said.

You couldn’t describe what got over you; no one ever got you this riled up. Leon was different from the others, a fantastic partner but also great at sex, making you desperate for his touch constantly. While continuing to look — his body under your gaze — you felt your clit tingle with imagining what would happen soon. Your eyes then wandered to his v-line; you wanted to just yank that towel away from him and see all his form.

“Um… I haven’t done anything,” he nervously laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck, “What’s got into you? You’ve gone red.”

You walked closer to him; he looked at you, wondering what would happen; you didn’t normally act like this. Usually, it was a simple “Do you want to?” while you were both in bed, but you couldn’t wait. Your cunt was practically soaking from just the sight of him.

“Can’t you tell that I want you?” you said seductively, placing your hands on his cheeks and slowly pulling him to a kiss; he reciprocated, and you both interlocked lips — feeling his cheeks get warmer with the blush slowly appearing.

The kiss deepened, your fingers moving to his hair — making it even more messy. You then separated the kiss, biting his lower lip as you gently pulled away, leaving Leon to look at you with dilated pupils and a yearning for more. You then looked down, seeing that Leon got hard from that kiss; you smirked and made Leon blush and look away — you found it cute how he still got shy with some things. To drive him crazy, you then moved your hands to his cock — making Leon jolt with pleasure — gently moving his towel out of the way as you moved your hand up and down. Leon’s breathing deepened and became a quiver as he tried to control himself under your control. You revelled in his pleasure.

“Come on, Leon, I’m desperate for you,” with your spare hand, you reached for Leon’s, moving his hand between your legs to feel how wet you were for him.

His cock twitched at your touch; he couldn’t believe that the sight of him got you that wet — but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Do you want me to fuck you, baby girl?” you nodded, removing the towel around his waist and letting it drop to his feet, exposing him in front of you.

He smirked at you before he picked you up, sweeping your feet off the floor, holding you like a bride; you laughed a little, and your heart quickened with anticipation; you just needed him inside you already.

Leon then threw you to the bed, climbing on top of you to press his cock against your clothed pussy, moving into a wet and passionate kiss. His kisses led to biting your bottom lip, trailing down to your neck and leaving marks through a series of biting and sucking; you succeeded in getting him riled up as you were. You moaned as Leon kissed your neck, grinding his hips against yours, whispering “I love you” and “You’re so beautiful” in your ear, making you tingle with pleasure.

You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and just your panties, making it easy for Leon to undress you. He started to slide your top over your head as you lifted yourself with his assistance, immediately getting thrown to the bed when Leon removed your panties, sliding them down your thighs and revealing your glistening pussy. He looked at you in awe, unable to believe he got so lucky.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said as he stared at you, looking into your eyes full of lust and desperation.

Leon then moved to the bedside table, his hand about to pull out the drawer to grab a condom.

“Baby, just fuck me, please,” you pleaded.

“I won’t be long. I just need to get a condom,” he had one in his hand, fiddling around with it as he struggled to open it.

“Leon, I don’t care, please, I need you,” you had gotten up, your torso upright as you pleaded for his touch even more.

“But, baby, what if —”

“I don’t care, I just need you so bad.”

Leon accepted it and then placed his body between your legs, nervous as he positioned himself. Your hands moved along his back as you traced kisses on your cheeks and neck.

When he finally slid his cock into your wet centre, you both released a deep breath as you finally felt the pleasure you both had been wanting. Leon then started to feel your walls as he pushed himself further inside you, his breaths becoming heavy and laboured as he finally felt your pussy surrounding his bare cock.

“Oh fuck… You feel amazing,” Leon’s breathing shallowed, going slow with his actions to not cum too fast.

“Do you like it, baby?” you cooed in his ear.

“Mmhm,” Leon squeezed his eyes shut as he continuously pushed back and forth.

You moaned continuously as you felt Leon inside you, happier that he was picking up the pace. Leon quickened his rhythm, starting to ram his hard cock inside your wet cunt; your moans became louder as Leon used your body as a fuck toy.

“Oh my… Fuck… You’re so tight,” he said under his breath.

“I love you so much, Leon,” you said breathlessly.

“I love… you…too,” he answered between breaths.

Leon then moved upright, placing your legs on his shoulders, his hands on your hips as he started to pound himself inside you, his hand moving to your cheek as he caressed it, continuously telling you how beautiful you were and how lucky he was. He then moved to grab your tit, circling his thumb around your already erect nipple; you moaned as he used your whole body for his pleasure. His other hand placed on your hip then started to dig into your skin — causing you to wince in pain — you liked it when Leon was rough with you, excited for another bruise to erupt to show who you belonged to.

“Who’s my gorgeous girl?”

“I am, Leon, I’m all yours,” you managed to get the words out, despite it being made more difficult as Leon thrusted himself inside you.

Leon’s eyes squeezed shut momentarily, trying to concentrate but unable to keep it in anymore; he wasn’t used to feeling your walls surround his member this way, used to the barrier of the condom — he would never want to go back to that now.

“Please cum inside me, baby; I want to feel you,” you said as you bit your lip.

Leon took this invitation, getting a few more strokes in. When he couldn’t last any longer, he then released himself inside of you, filling you up, which also led to you glazing his cock; both releasing laboured breaths as you both had to process the adrenaline that pleasure had given to the both of you.

He collapsed beside you after he finished inside your wet cunt, lying next to you and looking at the red dust of blush on your face.

“How about we not use condoms anymore?” you suggested.

“Please… I need to feel that again.”

my links: masterlist | kofi | ao3 profile

#admirxation #asks #request #anon request #leon kennedy smut #Leon Kennedy #Leon Kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #Leon Kennedy x Y/N #Resident Evil #resident evil x reader #re4r leon #re2r leon #Fem!reader #Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 1: Then, it's the best feeling I've even known

Words: 1282

Warning: sex mentioned not described.

Three months ago when my best friend, and childhood crush, Layla El-Faouly reached out asking if I would like to possibly be in a threesome with her and her Husband Marc I was surprised. One they never seemed the type for Non-Monogamy, and Two I was pretty sure Layla was over her Bi-curious phase a long time ago. It was a pretty amazing night. I was pretty sure I would never have sex that good again, but I was very wrong. I have sex like that all the time. About a week after that night they had invited me over again, this time, I found out a lot more. About Marc’s DID, About Steven and Jake, about Moon-knight, and their adventures around the world. I felt like I could probably take that all into stride as their friend, then came the next surprise.

They asked me out.

They wanted me to be in a relationship with them, all of them. I had felt like my heart stopped that second. It took me sometime to process it and decide.

It had been a long day at work, I had just managed to get in the door and get out of my work clothes when there was a knock at the door. I went to take a look though my peephole It was Marc. I opened the door with a half smile on my face.

“Hey, Marc. Come on in.” I smiled and gestured for him to come inside.

“Hey, I’m sorry to not call or something before coming over I...I needed to see you.” He says in his usual gruff voice. He needed to see me? This was something else.

“Oh, um Okay.” I closed the door after he walked in. “Is something wrong?”

“Look, I thought it would be a good idea if, I asked you on a date, and they Want to ask you on a date as well, Especially Jake, He and Layla, don’t exactly get along…It’s a long story.” He seemed anxious about it, about asking me out.

“Does Layla also want a date? Is this some kinda trail period? First four dates free?” I try to lighten the mood with a joke. Marc smirks and chuckles.

“Yeah, something like that. I’m sure Layla would enjoy that. Sorry…this is still new to me…to us.” He rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze.

“And not to me.” Admittedly my last triad hadn’t ended well but I had more experience in this than they did. “Anyway you feel about it is totally normal. Its how you act on those feelings that matters.” We sat in the living room for hours after that. Talking about how he felt, talking about how the others felt, and talking about how we all felt about Layla. I put my hand on his knee at one point and he after thinking for a second put his hand on mine, and that’s when I think I knew, no matter how those first dates went, I was saying yes.

~

Now three months later I’m grocery shopping with Layla, trying to figure out what one of the boys wrote on the shared grocery list, her arm around my waist as I’m holding the list.

“I can’t read Jake’s handwriting, what the hell does this say?” She points at it.

“Horchata Mix.” I laugh

“How can you read that?”

“He leaves me little love notes, like in the book I’m reading or on my bathroom mirror. I had to figure out what they said. So I made a cipher.”

“Well Jeeze, For all the times I managed to get him to talk to me all he could do was cuss me out.” Layla chuckles. Layla and Jake had a rough start of it, when He first showed up he brought chaos into their lives again and after they had just managed to settle down again. Layla had every right to feel like she did, but Jake also had a right to live a life, and for some reason, He really liked living his life with me. Which made me think of our first “free date”

~

“Dress for dancing. Can’t wait to see you. -J” That’s all the text said. The text made me laugh. The short black dress that hugs every curve of my body, the comfortable dance heels from my days in dance class, delicate makeup, hair done nicely. I thought I did well. I was surprised when Marc and Layla had said Jake wanted to take me out first. Apparently he had practically begged. I thought they were kidding at first, until I had gotten the text from Jake. Once I was ready I checked my phone to see a text from Jake.

“Outside. –J”

I felt my heart start to race as I left the building. He was standing outside his car, a flirtatious smirk on his face, It was a little odd to see Marc’s body but know it wasn’t him, how he held himself, the way he dressed, it was all very different. I walked up to him. I looked him over for the first time, he was dressed very nice, dress pants, white button up, dark tie, and the pageboy cap pulled over his dark curls was a good touch.

“It’s good to finally meet you Hermosa. You look stunning.”  His Spanish accent was a bit of a surprise.

“Thank you Jake, It’s really nice to meet you too.” I smile and lean in to kiss his cheek, a soft chuckle leaves his lip before returning the favor.

“Tu eres muy dulce…” His Honeyed words hit my ear and a shiver goes down my back. He opened the car door for her and she sat down in the car. As we drove to the dance hall we made some simple conversation. We pull into the parking lot of the dance hall and Jake is a gentleman the whole way in, opening doors, taking my hand, ordering my drink, it was quite sweet. But I had no idea what I was in for when we hit the dance floor.

He takes one of my hands in his and his other wraps around my waist, and he gives me a warm smile. It was my turn to surprise him by knowing where to hold myself in a starting dance position, a small smirk on my face as he chuckles and we start to dance together. I feel my heart thumping in my chest as His dark brown eyes met mine, something in the quality behind them, was different then when Marc looked at me. Everything about him was sensual, every touch, every turn, every second I felt like I was dancing on air. At some point we took a break and sat down to talk.

“Where did you learn to dance Muñeca?” He asks

“I took a bunch of classes in college, and some more recently with my ex. ” I answered honestly “And you?”

“If I told you I’d have to kill you.” He says with a chuckle. I laughed.

“Alright keep you’re secrets Lockley.”

“How else am I gonna keep you on your toes? Hm?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help but laugh again.

~

I put the blue bag of Horchata Mix in the cart with a smile then looked up at Layla. Her coffee eyes looked at me with an affection I had learned to enjoy over the last three months. I was thankful every single second I had with them. I had learned many times over the years that love like this is rare and fleeting, I just hope this time it lasts.

~

Masterlist

Chapter 2

#moon knight #marc spector #x reader #jake lockley #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moonknight x reader #fluff #steven grant x reader #polyamory #poly representation #moon knight system #moon boys #layla el faouly #Spotify #steven grant

[marvelobsessed134]

Starting to really like the real world

A/n: You KNOW I had to write stuff for Margot’s barbie because…mommy. Anyways! Also as we know in the end of the movie when Barbie goes to the real world she’s named after Ruth Handler’s daughter. Her name will still be Barbie but her last name, Handler, will be mentioned

Pairings: CEO!Barbie x Assistant!Fem reader

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral (both receiving), fingering (R receiving), Dom!Barbie, Sub!reader, mommy kink, mentions of strap on use, little degradation, and I think that’s it.

Summary: Things get heated between you and your boss.

It was just another day working at the one and only Mattel headquarters. And for the new CEO, Barbie herself. Well, Miss. Handler to the world. But everyone closest to her knows that she is -or was- a actual Barbie from barbieland. And because you’re her assistant, you know most things about the woman.

She’s always so cheery, she’s a wonderful boss. She gives you paid off time during your menstrual cycles. While yes, she has all the right organs now she still doesn’t get her period and can’t get pregnant. Which she doesn’t mind at all. She’s actually very happy she doesn’t have to worry about neither.

Today has been hectic. Since new ideas for new dolls and play sets have been announced at the annual Barbie convention. And as expected, Miss. Handler was very busy.

You just gave her coffee, printed her papers and answered some emails for her. Towards the end of the day, you were exhausted. Ready to kick back and relax while watching your favorite show. However, Barbie had told you to stay behind today.

In her bright pink office, the large window casted a golden aura due to the sun setting. You sat on the couch nervously as your boss walked in, her heels clicking on the polished floor, in her pink suit. You’re afraid you did something wrong.

She locks the door before walking towards you, sitting down next to you.

“Um, Miss. Handler…did I do anything wrong? Why was I called to stay back?” You asked.

“Y/n you know it’s Barbie after hours. Plus tonight you’re going to be calling me mommy anyways.” Your eyes widened at her words before she pressed her lips to yours. You were shocked, but melted into the kiss.

Her hands began to explore your body, groping everywhere she could. Turns out the real world really changed her. Maybe for the better.

You moaned into the kiss. “Mmm, you like that baby? I love feeling your beautiful body.” She said as she smirked against your lips.

Then, the two of you separated and you still looked at her dumbfounded. “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what’s going on, Missy.” She said, “I can see it in your eyes, you want this. So come on, submit to mommy.”

If you were standing you would’ve fell on your knees. “Yes mommy.” You whispered and she gave you a look of approval, her blue eyes growing darker.

She then went to work at unbuttoning your shirt before pulling it off, then your bra. Barbie immediately began to grope your tits before pulling a nipple into her mouth. You moaned and threw your head back.

Once she paid attention to both sides, she gracefully picked you up and laid you down on her desk. She made quick work of removing your skirt and panties. “Already so soaked for me, and I’ve barely touched you.” The blonde chuckled.

Your legs spread on their own accord, and she immediately dived in, licking up and down your folds, all the way up to your clit. You gripped the back of her head as you moaned loudly, squirming underneath her.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer, “Mommy, I’m gonna cum!”

“Go ahead, cum for mommy.” And so, you released your sweet juices all over her face. “Mmm you taste so sweet. Good girl.” Barbie praised before standing up and pushing to fingers inside of you. Your eyes rolled back as she continued to fuck you. “Fuck we’ll have to use my strap next time, how does that sound pretty girl?” Your boss moaned and your eyes widened. She’s way different than she was when she first got the real world.

“Oh yeah, it’s thick and long, it’s gonna stretch that tight pussy out so much. And I know you’ll love to suck on it, you little cock whore.” She chuckled menacingly as she continued to fuck you with her fingers as your legs began to shake and you clenched around her. “Oh god, mommy!!!!” You screamed in pleasure as you came a second time.

Barbie took her fingers out of you and licked them clean. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips, you could taste a mix of her and yourself. She then squished your cheeks and said, “Now it’s mommy’s turn. You’re going to make mommy cum like the good little slut you are, got it?” You nodded and watched as she got up and sat in her chair, she pulled her pants and panties off and spread her legs as she unbuttoned her suit jacket and shirt.

The sight of her pussy had your mouth watering you got down and crawled towards her before becoming face to face with it.

You looked up for permission and saw as Barbie tweaked her nipples lazily before saying, “Go on.” With a warm smile.

You began to lick her just as she licked you. Up and down her wet folds and up to her clit. And just like you did, she gripped the back of your head, “Oh yeah, that’s a good girl.”

You continued to eat her out. “I’m close, and you better eat up all of my cum sweetheart.” And you did, as she moaned out and her release squirted all over you, you quickly ate it all up like a good slut.

“Fuck that was good, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time, babygirl. And I want to do it over and over again.” Barbie said before leaning forward and gripping your chin, making your look up at her. “What do you say, you wanna be mommy’s little fuck toy?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good girl.”

#barbie movie x reader #barbie x reader #barbie movie #barbie #barbie smut #wlw smut #sub reader #mommy #barbie movie fanfic #fanfic #smut #smutty fanfic

[undercoverpena]

a pile of cards

javier peña x f!reader | part four of the birthday bash

summary: it’s become a tradition. he presents you with a birthday card so you can collect his words, while he collects the expressions you share as you read them.

warnings/themes: javi through the seasons, narcos season two/three spoilers. cute, fluff. happy ending. wordcount: 3.8k

It began because he didn’t want to be empty-handed. 

Murphy and Connie’s pink bag of tissue put him on edge as they stood outside his door. Fidgeting. Hurrying him along.

Normally, it’s not him being dragged somewhere, but rather he doing the dragging.

His arm never needing to be twisted to go to a bar. It, in more recent times, has become a hobby of his to find a way to bury the day—sometimes by liquor, other times by other means. 

He’d lied with relative ease that he needed them to make a stop—needing smokes. Once inside, he grabbed the first card he felt was relevant and used the scratchy pen belonging to the man behind the counter to sign it.

Now, he’s outside the bar.

The one a bit further out than he usually goes. It’s calm, maybe too much. There are fairy lights swinging overhead the gathering in the outside area, the Colombian heat still laying its thick hands over those invited to your shindig—even as the sun tries to set. 

The words, “It’ll be fun”, came back to him. That you’re new, working with the CIA. Connie periodically interjecting that you’re funny, nice.

Javi swallows the questions about how she knows, just sitting silently in the back like a child dragged somewhere he didn’t want to go.

Mainly, he had wanted to question how he’d met the new recruit, and he hadn’t. He didn’t. Swallowing it, letting its bitter taste scratch his throat as it sank down.

It’s rising now, clogging his oesophagus. Making it hard to force normalcy as he walks in rhythm with the Murphys to the cheers and shouts.

There’s laughter swirling, too. Music—all loud and chirpy—making him more aware of the gun in the back of his jeans, a nervous tinge to his twitching fingers.

Because Medellín parties haven’t fared well in the past. Not even recently.

His apprehension only settles as they reach the familiar faces—the ones who take one look at three of them and remain unsure what to do with their faces.

It dawns on him then that maybe he hasn’t made friends with the CIA lot well. Preferring his game of winding them up more than Murphy.

He’s about to comment on it, when Connie shrieks. A flash of colour bounds their way until arms wrap around both her and Murphy.

Him standing, leaning his weight more on one foot as he studies the exchange. Observing. Getting bits and pieces from Connie’s excited chatter. You look pretty, like your dress, you shouldn’t have, and then when he is all set to roll his eyes, he sees you.

Realising what Connie means. 

All bright eyes. A smile that renders him momentarily useless. The thing in his throat vanished, replaced by dryness and confusion.

“Hey, birthday girl, need t’introduce you to someone,” Steve says, turning to him, “This is my partner, meet Javier Peña.”

He tries not to stare but finds he does all the same. His brain wracking itself trying to place you, work out where, if, he’s seen you before. Unsure how he hasn’t seen you before—this enigma of a person who is suddenly friends with so many around him. 

Not even recognising you in passing. 

And he’d remember. Dragging his eyes up and down the dress hugging your body, he’d definitely remember. 

“Hi, Javier. Thank you for also coming? Drinks are not on me or the house, and if you order any food, I have to have some.” 

Snorting, he wipes his jaw. “That right?” 

Nodding, you take a sip of a beer you’re handed. “Birthday rules, I’m afraid.” 

“I—um. Got you a card?” 

He watches as your smile goes through a spectrum of types before it lands on a smirk. Finger and thumb taking it from his hand with a glint in your eye—one he can’t pick apart. Fucking CIA. 

Javi also notices that Steve’s brows are so close to his fucking hairline, it makes the man looks ridiculous.

“Ha-Happy birthday.” 

Placing the beer bottle down, you glance back at him before unpeeling the envelope. Sliding it out, staring at the very generic card.

Nothing else inside it except, what he hopes is your name, Happy Birthday and signed with Javier. 

“You… you don’t know me, do you?” 

He considers lying before he smirks. “Why’d you say that?” 

“You spelt my name wrong,” you add, tongue in cheek as you grin. “But, I’ll forgive you if you buy me a drink.” 

Steve snorts to the left of him, trying to disguise it behind his hand. “Be nice, Jav. She’s joining us in a few months. In the DEA.” 

Shrugging, Javi snorts. “What you drinkin’ birthday girl?”

In a year, he’s learnt several things about you. 

One that you have awful taste when it comes to dating. Two, you like your coffee black. Three, you do not smoke. Four, you care about him (even if you attempt to bury it under snark and sarcasm when it rears its head).

Yet somehow, on the anniversary of your two’s meeting, he finds you outside. Alone. A cigarette in between your fingers, burning, smoke ascending as you stare across the city. 

“Y’know the party is in there, right?” 

Smiling, you nod. Running a hand up and down your arm. Little bumps spread over exposed skin as you cast your eyes out to the city—the one sprinkled with lights that grow in numbers as the stars begin to twinkle. 

“You spell my name right this year?” 

Snorting, Javi steps out further onto the veranda—the palm fronds swinging, the scent of your Marlboro reaching his nostrils. 

He doesn’t think when another breeze brushes in, his jacket in his hand—extended out. You turn your head, facing him, the smallest crease between your brows before he watches you hand him the smoke, and feels your fingers brush against his—a buzz, a shockwave—passing up his fingertips to his wrist and arm. 

Then it’s gone. 

His leather jacket around your shoulders, his fingers twitching—wishing to smoke what you handed him. His own very much resting on your hip (both his lighter and packet in the pocket resting on your frame). 

“Anything else come with the card this year?” 

Lips parted, an open-mouthed smirk sliding into one cheek, as he watched you tip back your drink. Eyes not leaving him. Stuck, fixed—waiting. 

“You can smoke that, by the way.”

He notices it’s not stained with lipstick or gloss. Bringing it to his lips, taking a drag that instantly settles the fluttering in his stomach.

Holding your gaze a little longer. “You got something in mind?” 

Shrugging, you’re the one to break the stare. Pulling his jacket more around your shoulders—all unreadable, a mystery. 

“Just thought, it’s been a year—you might have treated me.”

He almost chokes and splutters. Almost.

A part of him wants to ask how much you’ve drank, because you’re being bold—bolder than normal. Also, because he very much wants to.

While Javi isn’t normally an asking-permission kind of man, he felt he needed to with you. Even if all he thinks about doing is treating you. 

On his desk. 

In the file room. 

In his car after a long shift when the two of you walk out together. 

Tonight, in your ridiculously tight clothes that do nothing to help him continue to be a gentleman. 

Because you’re on his team, you do good work. You’re good for Murphy and especially good for him. 

When you bring him coffee just because, when you’re talking to Murphy or translating for him, but your eyes slide to him. Sometimes when he finds himself in the same bar as you, your posture relaxed, eyes somewhat glazed as someone he doesn’t recognise has their arm around you. 

You populate his mind, like seeds were buried in him at your first meeting, and have been blooming ever since.

In the year since he was first really introduced to you, he’s had many thoughts about you. Wondering what it would take to get your pupils to swallow the colour in your eyes, whether you’d say his name full of gasp or prettily. Whether you’re as beautiful in real life when you come, as you are when he dreams of you. 

“But, guess I’m not your type.” 

He snorts, tracing his bottom lip with his tongue as he assesses you. Unsure how you could be so wrong, when he knows you’re usually so right. 

Your fingers pull his jacket around you, fiddling, a nervousness to each movement. 

“What?” 

Smirking, you lick your lips. “I hear things.” 

“Good things?” 

Snorting, he watches as you do that playful roll of your eyes. “Mixed bag, if I’m honest.” 

Kicking off from the post, he finds your eyes don’t leave his. Not even as he begins to step closer, deciding to test his theory.

Flicking the smoke from his hand, Javi tries not to second-guess himself under your wider eyes, taking him in, swallowing him. He never gets nervous, never questions it.

Until you. It’s not until he’s so close to you the gap between you both is suspicious at best if someone were to come out and find you.

But, you don’t push him away. Don’t even begin to question any of it. You just keep looking from his eyes down to his lips.

The moment slowing— sound of the bar’s jeers growing more distant as the space around the two of you fades to nothing. 

It’s almost poetic, if not for the reason the two of you are here. That the task at hand, outside of cards, drinks and birthdays, is to end the war on drugs 

“Javier?” 

He swallows, and then he moves. Gently. Softly, slowly sliding his mouth over yours as he feels you stiffen, before you relax. A purposeful movement of your lips against his, fingers finding a place on his neck and cheek. 

You taste like sweetness, sin and something that leaves a lingering spice. A taste he’d love to chase—something he’d enjoy taking apart and having splayed across his sheets for hours. 

He turns you, shifting you from your place until your spine meets a post—hand on your cheek, keeping you close, tongue sliding past your teeth as he swallows a whimper (that he hopes is his name).

His own groan vibrates through you, feeling it in his palm as it rests on your jaw. 

A part of him wants to urge you into his truck, drive you back to his and make up for lost time. But the sound of a bottle breaking from somewhere inside pulls his lips from yours. A reminder, a bold one—all written in large font and the blackest of ink. 

It’s your birthday. Your party. 

You seem to know, smiling up at him—a glazed overcast of pleasure in your eyes.  

“Thank you for coming, Javi.” 

Brushing his knuckles up and down your cheek, his lips slide into a one-sided smile. “Wouldn’t have missed it.” 

Another year, but it’s now a different kind of party. 

Murphy excuses himself with slurred words, stumbling out of your room—telling him he’ll see him in theirs soon. Leaving just you, with just him. 

Javi’s decided he hates Medellín.

He did before they were basically on lockdown in the building. Hands tied by paperwork and Messina’s form instructions.

“Let me guess…” you say, all sweet—with wine-filled eyes. 

Javi pulls out a card from his back pocket, a smirk sliding over to one side of his face—watching as your eyes flick over his face before landing on the off-white envelope. 

It happens quickly, which is why he doesn’t drag his eyes away.

The sparkle in your eye that travels to your lips—the soft, sweet smile which could light up a room if you ever let it show. Mostly, he watches for the sight of you sliding into yourself—all that fake confidence disappearing for a moment. He sees speckles of it when he removes the last piece of fabric from your skin, when you get shy, even if it’s just him.

Javi doesn’t remember other people’s birthdays. He doesn’t ever buy them coffee. He who doesn’t want to watch, study, or admire, the reaction such a gesture brings. 

There are now even very few he likes being between the thighs of—not that he’ll admit it.

He does care about the people in his life, latches on—has a need to fix and save them. Caring for Murphy, Connie, Olivia, and then the more obvious ones, his Pop, those back home. Then there are the ones he cares for differently, Gabby, and the other women he tangles himself with.

And then, not fitting in any of those piles specifically, there’s you.

You who doesn’t need him to save you. You don’t need him to fix you. Perfectly content to do so yourself, to let him see all the fractured shards and pieces of yourself you don’t love. 

It’s why he suspects it’s different with you. 

Why it’s more than needing to make your back arch, toes curl and chant his name. Why on some level, he craves you handing him control—letting him in, pulling back the curtains that bit more to see the other parts of you that you’re more afraid to let anyone see. 

“‘Happy birthday to the one who sometimes bruises her knees for me’. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a poet?” 

Smirking, he wipes his mouth with his thumb. “Poet, no. Good with my fingers, yes.” 

You put the card on the table, leaning closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

And it’s more than stress relief—more than friends who fuck. Especially as he runs his hands down your arms, letting them slide down until they innocently rest on your waist—desperation thumping through his veins to kiss you. 

At some stage, you had gone from tasting like a sin to tasting like happiness. A ray of something. A thing which warms inside of him, fanning out, dashing through his nerves when he’s close to you. 

It’s sometimes why he goes to Gabby. 

Not deserving of it—the way you look at him. The way you make him feel. How you see him, all of him, accepting of all the sides of him.

Plus, there's the realisation that in the year of whatever dance it is that the two of you are doing, you’ve become more of a necessity than a want. 

He likes you being around, curled up close against him—in whatever form that is. He savours the moments when you don’t dress immediately, letting his fingers run up and down your arm. He enjoys the moments when you turn up, swallowing his greeting with your lips as you ask him to simply ruin you.   

You don’t like feelings. 

They’re about on par with nearly as much as you like your birthday, hating that people change and how things alter. 

Normally, he’s happy to convince you otherwise, but in truth, he may hate this one of your birthdays too. 

Not because he wishes he’d got the flowers or that your perfume is weaving its way into his senses. But rather, despite that, he wishes he’d picked you up something more, and he wishes your scent bled into his clothes, skin and soul. 

Because Javi is pretty sure he’s just realised he likes you. 

He wishes he could have kissed the smile on your face when you read the card, knowing he’ll always wonder what it tasted of. 

He likes you more than just someone he rolls around in the sheets with. And a lot more than someone he spends the occasional evening with, curling up on the sofa and falling asleep. 

And, deep down, he’s not sure what the fuck that even means.

It’s a curse being sent back.

Both because of him missing out on Escobar being taken down, because he’s in the States, while you’re in Colombia. 

The words he should have said rested between the card and nib of his pen.

I like you. I’m sorry for the shit I did.

More apologies sitting on his chest. Like the fact he kept it all from you, only seeing the look in your eye when he was packing—filled in by someone else. 

You hadn’t seemed mad. But rather wounded, hurt. A crease in your expression he wanted to smooth out with more than fingers and lips, but rather words.

Should have told me. 

That was all you said. Four words. Letting them strike, pierce into his skin as you tapped your fingers on the door frame he shared with Murphy. And then, you made yourself scarce.

A part of him hoping, less secretly than he’d normally let show, that you’d appear at the airport. But you didn’t.

Now he was missing another thing.

A thing that wouldn’t be on his file, but had made a permanent mark on him all the same.

By the time he sees you with this particular card, your birthday will have long passed. Another thing he’s failed at. 

Because he’s not even heard from you. 

You still haven’t returned a single one of his calls. 

Your anger being felt across countries at this point. But, maybe he’ll see you if you accept the job. Even if the dynamic is different, no Murphy alongside the two of you, he hopes you do.

Hope you take the chance to work together again—with him, an equal, even if the title is under him. 

Because he’s not sure he can do it alone. Not sure he can take down Cali without you.

It’s late. 

Midnight black paints the world as he slips the key into the door, turning the lock with more care than he usually ever shows.

It still sounds loud, as are his footsteps as he flicks on the light as he first enters. Bag dumped near scattered shoes, coat sliding from his frame as he checks the door is locked once, twice, thrice.

A habit he’s picked up, adopted as if it was his own.

Once it’s done, the checklist complete—by that, he's rid of keys, wallet and possessions. The thing he hasn't parted with in days becomes heavy in his pocket—the card.

The one he wrote days ago, and should have left here for you to open. 

Even if he likes handing it to you. He likes how you collect his cards, and he collects your expressions. 

He has minutes left to uphold this tradition, not wanting a repeat—another tally against his name.

Moving through the small place, he spots the cake on the kitchen counter. The one with a slide missing and a candle still on the top. His stomach lurching. Guilt blooming. 

You understand. Your fingers on his cheek, arm around his waist as you tell him all the right words, brushing out any doubts and questions.

One day.

That’s what you always say.

Something he repeats as he swipes his fingers against the cream, tasting the sugar and sweetness. One day he’ll be here when you bake it, a person witness to the candle being lit and your wish being made.

Now, he just moves through the rest of his dark place. Pushing open the bedroom door.

Light cascading in from the hall light, spotting you immediately all splayed out across the bed. One of his shirts in your fingers, an old tee of his on your frame, and a peaceful look on your face that he’s been missing since the moment he'd needed to go to Cali. 

He doesn’t want to wake you, but he also selfishly does. 

Just so he can use the last minutes of your day to do your usual tradition. To be able to show you he didn’t forget, and let you read the message this time.

The words which have been mounting, mixing with the pressure which rests on his shoulders more and more as they grow closer to seeing the godfathers in cuffs.

Instead, he brushes your bare thigh, just to feel, to touch. Feeling how you calm him, eradicate the annoyances of his day—his week. Not even noticing that you’re shifting, twitching, until he hears:

“Javi?” 

Sleep-filled and hazy, you’re blinking. Even in the limited light, you look beautiful. Something he tells you, earning him a crooked smile—likely not believing him, because you never do.

He’s quick, removing his hand (spotting the light frown near your brow) before he pulls the card from his back pocket, spotting the way the envelope has a deep line that has been born from where it’s been bent. 

“¡Feliz cumpleaños, cariño!”

His words bury over his inward curse. A new part, fresh and more strong, making him wish he’d kept the card here so it looked more presentable. Even if he liked having it, his thumb brushing over his back pocket like he had a piece of you with him.

Smiling, you shift on the bed, dragging the sheet with you as you take the card. 

He watches as you lick your lips, rubbing sleep from your eye before you unpeel it. Sliding it out. 

Javi hears his pulse in his ear. Thumping. All loud, to the point he’s sure you must be able to hear. It's almost full of bass, like it’s trying to make a song—one he’d call after you, and play it all the time.

Because you’re the only one who makes him feel like this. His hands sliding up his trousers, wiping the growing sweat from his palm. 

“You nervous, baby?” 

He smirks, shifting his weight. 

“I always like your cards.” 

It lessens—the smirk. Instead, it spreads into a smile. One you always get him to wear, like a spell you’ve cast over him since you two first met all those years ago. 

Clearing your throat, you look at the card, “To the one I love on your birthday,” you whisper.

Eyes lingering, re-reading, before your head snaps up. 

It’s clear to him that it takes a second to register and connect. 

“Wait, Javi, you lo…” 

Shrugging, he tilts his head. 

Your hands lower to your lap, eyes narrowed. 

“Say it,” you add, more demand in your tone than he’d expected for someone asleep a few moments ago. “Please.”

“Bit late for the please, querida.” 

Eyes narrowing, you close the card, hands falling to your lap. “Javi—“

“I love you. Te amo. I love y….” 

Slowly, you move. Crawling towards him. Hand cupping his cheek, forehead pressing to his as his fingers find purpose on your thigh and hip. 

“I love you too.” 

He tightens his hold on you, feeling you sit more in his lap. Fingers brushing over his cheek, wiping the stress free from his face—removing the weight from his shoulders. 

“And I’m glad you’re back,” you add. 

“Hate leaving you.” 

“One day you won’t, right?” 

Nodding, he sees the flashes of things he wants when he blinks and dreams. When he lets himself plan and think ahead of right now. 

“Good. Best present you could have given me.” 

Snorting, he runs his nose against yours. “Haven’t given you anything yet.” 

Smirking, you hover your lips over his. “I’ll be taking that in a second.” 

“I do love you.” 

“I believe you. But, I think you should show me,” you whisper, capturing his lips. 

And he does. Even if the time has ticked past midnight.

an: thank you to everyone for all welcoming me into the pp community. also, apologies if there are errors, this one is phone-written as I've been celebrating :)

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #pedrostories #agent peña #javi peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[prince-kallisto]

Neige’s Unique Magic 🍎

Neige LeBlanche has been rotating around my brain I swear 🤣 I keep thinking about him after making a redesign, I want to redraw some scenes of Book 5 with my interpretation of him. But now I’m wondering what Neige’s Unique Magic is…

He *does* attend RSA after all, the top rival magic school to NRC. And despite how oblivious he can be haha, I’m sure he’s capable in using magic. But I’ve never been one to be particularly creative with magic systems -v-

Snow White was connected to…the wishing well, the Poison Apple, the Sleeping Death, the true love’s kiss, the Dwarves/mine/gemstones, animals, her singing, the Dark Forest, and the Magic Mirror.

Many of the things Snow White is connected to is brought back in Pomefiore. Vil has a “Fairest One of All,” a Unique Magic that can curse any object with conditions of his choosing. Epel has “Sleep Kiss,” putting the victim asleep in a coffin-like barrier made of glass. And Rook has “I See You/Arrow Afar,” allowing him to pinpoint and track his target. So about half the things that Snow White is connected to is already taken by the other characters 🧐

Additionally, I feel like Silver gets the fairytale stereotype of animals following him around haha, even leading them to assist him in battle in Book 7. Neige also seems to have genuinely worked hard to reach his level of singing/stage skill, so I don’t think his UM would be related to that either. Mirror-related magic may probably be reserved for a more important character/villain later in the main game too…Hm. Snow White’s wish does come true through the wishing well, but there’s also a relics of the wishing well at NRC, and wish related magic seems a bit too OP and out there haha.

So I’m thinking that Neige’s Unique Magic is related to the concept of True Love’s Kiss? Perhaps his Unique Magic would literally be called that too haha \(//∇//)\ That, or it’s something mostly unrelated to the film lmao. A lot of the TWST boys have creative liberties taken with their Unique Magics, while being very subtle references to their film, such as Leona’a “King’s Roar” or in cases like Deuce’s “Double Down/Bet The Limit” where it’s something completely new.

But I feel like it would be fitting for Neige to have that sort of “Fanservicey” and very fairytale-esque type of magic 🤣 True Love’s Kiss tends to be an inherently magical trope. Perhaps his touch or kiss (probably on the cheek or forehead?) can heal in some manner or remove something that has affected the target Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Basically being the healer of the group

True Love’s Kiss is also often used in stories to return someone back to their true form, like the Little Mermaid, the Frog Prince fairytale, Beauty and the Beast, etc. Perhaps Neige’s Unique Magic can “transform” someone back to their original state of being? I’m not sure, because since Overblots are a thing, that seems like something that could have too much power…perhaps True Love’s Kiss could be a protective “blessing”/charm of sorts, to prevent the target from having their form changed or being affected by magical poisons or curses for a certain period of time. Basically like a counter to UM’s like Vil’s.

Edit: @emyluwinter brought up an awesome idea in the comments! In Snow White, Snow kisses all the dwarves before they go to work in the mines as a kiss of good luck. So the idea was brought up that Neige’s magic could cast temporary luck/protection on the target. I also think of it as, perhaps in a battle, the user could be saved by a lucky miss, or get in a lucky hit at whoever they’re fighting. Or it could be overall increased protection for any situation. Emyluwinter also brought up that Neige could put a “timeout” on a victim who’s wounded, so I think of it as Neige slowing down magical poison/bad affects, or even slowing the damage of an injury temporarily until help comes.

Σ੧(❛□❛✿) I feel like I rambled without coming up with anything lmao! If anyone has an idea for Neige’s magic, I’d love to hear it! I think it’s really interesting he appeared in GloMas, so it makes me wonder if Neige will become more relevant after the first arc of TWST ends. If his Unique Magic could quite literally protect or help people, Neige’s selfless personality would make even sense, since UM’s tend to manifest from a person’s character, motives, and/or backstory. I’ll talk more about this in the future, but Neige’s backstory being very vague and kinda cut off in Book 6 makes me think TWST may return to it.

#in my Neige era fr #twisted wonderland #twst #twst theory #twst neige #twst neige leblanche #neige leblanche #kallistopost

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 3

Summery: Y/N just wanted to study and head home for some sleep, to bad the night in Gotham has different plans. Now all they want to do is see the one person who's been on their mind since they started talking. Question is, will Jason agree?

Warning: swearing, fluff, it gets a little angsty, comfort, a sprinkle of gun violence, a mugging.

A/N: I got it done by Friday. I did not think I could do it, but I did. I’m not sure part 4 will be up, but I will be taking the next week to try and finish other projects. If there’s anything you’d like to, let me know. Uh, this ended up being over 6k works, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is welcome.

Words: 6574

ao3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

————

October 7

Y/N (7:30 am) Why is it so cold?

Jason Because it’s october

Y/N October just started! It should be illegal for October to be so cold so soon

Jason You’re the one who wanted to live in Gotham

Y/N I know But still

Jason: You lived in Gotham for how many years?

Y/n … Three

Jason: And you're still not used to the cold? and to think you chose Gotham 

Y/n Shut up

Jason All because Gotham and I quote ~intrigues~ you

Y/n Shouldn’t you be at work?

Jason Shouldn’t you be in class?

Y/n I’m on my way there Why’d you think I’m complaining about the cold?

Jason Could have fooled me Maybe your heater broke in your apartment and it’s freezing

Y/n I would cry if that happened

Jason Don’t like the cold?

Y/n I don’t like getting sick

Jason Touché

Y/n But I also hate the cold

Jason It’s sweater weather

Y/n Still cold

Jason Fall is not cold Winters cold Fall is the perfect season It’s not too cold not to hot Perfect

Y/n Maybe for cuddling under the blanket and read

Jason That an invitation?

Y/n Wouldn’t you like to know

Jason Awe come on, little bird don’t shy on me now It’s been what? Three weeks?

Y/n Yeah But, uh I’m a little nervous It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date or something 

Jason Ah I get that Honestly me too We can wait a bit longer and when we do meet up it’ll been in a public place

Y/n The confidence you have that we will be meeting is showing

Jason What can I say? I’m falling and I can’t get up

Y/n Oh my god You ruined the moment

Jason ‘Twas the plan

Y/n You dork

Jason No but really I really did fall and now my ass hurts

Y/n What do you want me to do about it?

Jason Come kiss it better

Y/n In your dreams

Jason Every night

Y/n I hope you step on a Lego

Jason First my ass and now my heart? Y/n you wound me

Y/n Sure, we’ll pretend your not into it

Jason I- Okay wow

Y/n Am I wrong

Jason I plead the fifth 

Y/n Mm thought so

Jason Shouldn’t you be in class?

Y/N Yup, just waiting for the professor 

Jason Is it true that if the teacher isn’t there after a certain period of time that there’s no class?

Y/n Some people think it is but no They always end up coming to class Unless there’s an attack of the school or something

Jason Does that happen a lot?

Y/n Like maybe every few months Don’t quote me on that, I barely pay attention

Jason I think that’s something you sure pay attention too

Y/n I did when I first moved here and now I just roll with the punches

Jason I really hope not

Y/n Like my guard is up when I’m out but other than that I guess, I don’t care?

Jason That’s even worse

Y/n That’s what my mom said too Oh look, the teach is here

Jason I'm more worried about you then I have worried about someone in my life

Y/n (12:20 pm) Hey You keep up with the news right?

Jason When I have time Why?

Y/n Have you heard anything about college students going missing?

Jason No I don’t think I have

Y/n Mm, not surprised I guess Apparently it’s a recent thing

Jason How recent?

Y/N Um, like a few days ago?

Jason And the cops haven’t done anything about this?

Y/N Nope Said they probably dropped out Some tried to report them as missing But they haven’t looked into it much

Jason How do you know this?

Y/n Rumors mostly Guess that’s why the cops won’t do anything But I don’t think they’re rumors I know some of the students that are missing Most are on the top of their classes Some are scholarship students, they wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it

Jason Damn My brother’s a cop, I could get him to look into it?

Y/n You’re brothers a cop in Bludhaven What do you think he can do in Gotham?

Jason How do you know that?

Y/N Jason, we’ve been talking for awhile And sometimes when you complain about your brothers, you let information slip past. Not that I mind, everything you tell me I keep to myself But you need to pay more attention to what you’re talking about

Jason Right, sorry I forgot about that

Y/N Have you been sleeping lately?

Jason …no

Y/n Everything okay? Er, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to it’s fine

Jason No it’s okay I want to tell you I just don’t know where to start

Y/n Start wherever, and how much you want to tell me I don’t need the whole picture 

Jason I guess I’ve been having nightmares lately 

Y/n About when you died? Allegedly 

Jason … Don’t know if I should be impressed that that’s where your mind jumps to or not

Y/n It’s a gift

Jason But yeah, that’s what they’re about Someone found me after, and took me in and raised me for a couple of years And then coming going back home It’s a lot I guess Sometimes I feel like I’m broken

Y/n I bet I’m not going to pretend that I know how you feel and I’m not sure what exactly what I can say And I don’t want to invalid your feels, you’re allowed to feel how you feel But you’re not broken, not completely anyways Maybe a little bruised and banged up And like any bruise, they heal with time Sometimes with help sometimes without All depends on if you want it or not

Jason Are you sure you’re not a shrink or something?

Y/N Pretty positive It’s something my mom told me sometimes

Jason Wise women

Y/n You have no idea So, if you ever want to talk, chances are that I’ll be awake at any time

Jason Thank you And as for what Dick could do? Not a whole lot, but he does have friends in the gcpd though

Y/n You think he can do that?

Jason Yeah, he owes me

Y/N He’s your brother Does he have to owe you?

Jason Our relationship is a bit complicated

Y/N You’ve mentioned But if he can do something, that puts my mind at ease a little I’m worried and maybe a little scared

Jason As you should Just be careful okay?

Y/n I will do my best

Y/n (11:30pm) So… Have you heard anything from your brother?

Jason Smooth It hasn’t even been a day

Y/n That’s me The ruler of smooth A lot can happen between now and when you talked to your brother about it

Jason All true you dork And yeah I have Turns out they aren’t just rumours He went to check out the students dorms are they left everything there Usually when someone leaves they bring some clothes and stuff with them right

Y/n Yeah, unless they were in a hurried and couldn’t care less then they would pack important stuff

Jason Yeah but they left everything there Phones, wallets, keys I’m not sure what the connection is and all that But the cops are working hard

Y/n Mm okay At least some things being done about it

Jason Mm

Y/n No sleep tonight?

Jason Not yet Helping my brother with something

Y/n You know, for someone who has a complicated relationship with one’s family You sure do help them a lot 

Jason What can I say? I’m a family man

Y/N Is this your way of saying you love your family?

Jason So how’s your dad doing?

Y/N I cannot believe you pulled the same move I used on you, on me This is a disgrace Unacceptable

Jason I’m just using when you taught me

Y/N I didn’t teach you shit

Jason Well it worked, didn’t it?

Y/n Unbelievable 

Jason Answer the question 

Y/n Okay I guess Tired mostly Says he’s trying to keep busy but my mom tells me he gets tired easily There’s no win win

Jason I’m sorry

Y/n Yup

Jason Still repressing your emotions?

Y/N You know it

Jason I’m here if you want to talk

Y/N Thanks Jason That means a lot

Jason Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

Y/N Yes But I’m currently doing a project that’s due tomorrow

Jason Ouch

Y/N Did you know that the library I’m at is open this late?

Jason Why?

Y/N College students needs books

Jason Yes But you can take them out and bring them home

Y/N I left my library card at home so now I’m stuck here with the book I need until I’m done

Jason See, I want to feel sorry for you But something’s holding me back

Y/N I can see the compassion from here Anyways I should go home soon

—

My phone’s about to die and I don’t have my charger either, you typed out and before you could hit send, you were met with your reflection on a black screen. “No,” you whined, slumping back into your chair. “It’s fine. I’ll just use my laptop, it should work.” 

Sitting up straight, you reached over to wake your computer up, you were met with the same fate as your phone. “No, nonono,” you muttered, frantically searching your backpack for your laptop charger. When you couldn’t find it, you dumped everything on the table, hoping you were just blind. But it wasn’t there.

You groaned when you came to the realization that luck wasn’t on your side tonight. 

Sighing in defeat, you made a note of the books you were using and the pages before cleaning up the table. As you stuffed your backpack with your things, you took a quick glance at the clock on the wall and cursed. If you don't hurry now, you’ll be late for the last train for the night.

If there’s one thing you hated most about Gotham, it was walking home really late at night. And the last you wanted to do was that, also you didn’t want to make Jason worry.

With the rest of your stuff hazardously stuffed into the backpack, you raced out of the library hoping to make the last train.

—

Jason You good? Home yet? Is everything okay? Hellooo? What happened? Are you safe?

—

Nothing. There was no response and when Jason tried to call you, it went straight to voicemail. No matter how many times he called, it always yielded the same result.

Jason is not worried. He knows you're busy with your project. Maybe you misplaced your phone while talking to someone. Or you’re already on your way home and need to concentrate on getting home. He vaguely recalls you saying you take the train to and from school.

Lighting up his phone to check the time, he nodded to himself. Yeah, that was it. You were just busy and on your way home. Jason’s not worried, he’s not.

“You okay there Jay?” Dick asked in concern, “you look a little worried there.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a little worried and maybe a little scared of what could potentially happen. In Gotham…At night.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jason lied, trying to push images of you hurt away. It didn’t help that there was this group out there kidnapping college students. For what, who knows. Jason only hoped that you didn’t get mixed up in it. 

Dick leaned in front of him and poked Jason’s forehead. “Are you sure? Your brow is pinched like you ate something sour,” he commented and Jason pushed him away with a scowl.

“Maybe he’s worried about his new friend,” Tim sang from the Bat computer. “It’s awfully late for a college student to be out in Gotham.”

Jason whipped his head around so fast, he was surprised he didn’t get whiplash. “How the fuck do you know?! I haven’t told you shit.”

“I’m a detective, Jason, I detect,” Tim pointily said, pressing buttons on the keyboard before a file with pictures of you showed on the screen. “Gotta say, they are kinda cute.”

“Why are you spying on them?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice even. He was pissed he couldn’t have something in his life to himself. But his nosey siblings had to meddle in his life, love life too. It's like they have no life outside of fighting crime.

“I was bored,” he replied as Dick made his way over to the computer. No doubt curious on what Tim found.

“Don’t you have cases to solve?”

Tim shrugged, clicking through photos of you, which only served to piss Jason off even more. Why is it that he wanted to slowly get to learn more about you, that his brothers decided to do a deep dive without his permission? Times like these made him wish he stayed dead. “Your love life is more interesting at the moment.”

“Well, you can fuck off then,” he said, grabbing his Red Hood helmet from the nearby table and put it on.

“Where are you going?” Dick called over the roar of Jason’s motorcycle.

“Anywhere that’s not here,” he answered and sped off.

He had meant to drive aimlessly, but soon he found his way towards the library you were currently studying in.

He couldn’t get the images of you hurt out of his mind, and he convinced himself that it was fine to make sure you were okay. Otherwise, he’d be drowning in worry.

As he drove, he heard a cry for help. He almost dismissed it, thinking that someone who was on patrol would help them. But with his bike in idle, he heard it. Granted, the last time he heard your voice, you were all nasally with a hoarse voice from a sore throat. But he recognized you’re voice anywhere.

Parking his bike, he unholstered his gun and slowly made his way to the alley that your voice came from. Peeking his head around the corner, he saw you fighting with someone over your backpack. You held your own for a while, and Jason could only wait until there was an opening.

Was there a little part of him that wanted to see you fight? Maybe. but he doesn’t want to think about that now.

“Let go you asshole,” you grunted, pulling your backpack hard enough that the mugger tripped forward. Which gave you the time to kick him in the balls, hard. Jason winced at the impact and the mugger staggered backwards with a groan and you successfully gained back your bag. “Ha!”

“You bitch!” he yelled and lunged towards you. But before either of you could do anything, Jason surged forward and shot him in the leg. The both of you screamed, you at the sudden noise and the mugger at the pain. Without looking to see who was there, you ducked behind a dumpster, out of harms way.

Clever Little Bird, Jason thought as he stalked towards his prey. “Your mom ever teach you manners?” Jason asked. The mugger shook his head and begged Jason not to kill him. Jason was tempted too, but an annoying voice in the back of his mind, who sounded suspiciously like Bruce, whispered, don’t kill.

“Nah, I’m not gonna kill ya,” he grumbled and waved him away with his gun. “But if I see ya again, I ain’t making any promises.” He took it as it was, and limped away as fast as he could. Jason watched as he disappeared before holstering his gun and turned around towards you with a frown. You were curled in on yourself, hugging your bag tight.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to tap you on your shoulders. With no warning, you quickly spun around and hit him with your bag. He winced as it collided with his chest, surprising him.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed once you realized who he was. You dropped your arms from the next attack Jason had no doubt would have followed through. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it was you.”

“What are you packing in there?” he grunted as he rubbed his chest, “fucking bricks?”

“Textbooks,” you answered sheepishly, hugging your backpack to your chest. “I’m really sorry I thought you were someone else.”

“No worries, I ain’t mad,” he said with a smile. Though you couldn’t see it given the helmet. “Hellva reflex though. Not many would fight back.”

You shrugged, tightening your grip on the backpack. The adrenaline must be wearing off, Jason noted. You were starting to shake. “What can I say? My flight or fight kicked in and there was nowhere to run.”

“Still,” he said, taking the moment to study you, and wishing he had shot the punk when he clocked the bruise forming under your eye. Other than that, there was nothing of note to worry about. Physically at least. Emotionally, he had no idea where your mind was at. “Are you doing okay?”

“Uh maybe?” you said, unsure yourself. You took a deep breath to calm yourself but it came out shakily. “I don’t know. I will be, once I’m home though.”

“Need a lift?” Jason offered, catching you by surprise.  You lifted your head to look at him, eyes narrowed. As if you were trying to see under the helmet. He stood there and waited. Eventually, you shook your head. Disappointment filtered through Jason but he pushed it down.

“Thanks, but I’m just down the street. Don’t think anything else can happen between here and there,” you said and Jason’s heart leaped at all the possibilities of what could happen.

“You’re gonna jinx yourself if you keep saying stuff like that,” he pointed out. You only shrugged and gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m sure an angel is looking out for me,” you said, getting enough courage to pat him on the chest as you walked past him. “Be seeing ya, Red.”

Jason stood there for a moment and shook his head with a smile. You sure were something else. Though it was a short distance to your place, it didn’t stop Red Hood from following you until you made it to your apartment. Even then, he stayed on the roof adjacent to your building, waiting for your message saying you were okay.

You stood in front of your apartment door, keys in hand and frowned. With the adrenaline completely out of your system, and finally being alone, your mind raced with the events that transpired over the last couple of hours.

You had managed to make the last train and the journey was uneventful. It wasn’t until the walk home that your luck turned bad.

You were so focused on getting home that you didn’t notice the guy following you until he grabbed your backpack. You fought, Red Hood showered up surprising you and talked before going home.

You blinked at the memory. If you weren’t so in your head, you’d be giddy that you actually talked to Red Hood. You talked to Red Hood. What the fuck? You’re not even sure if you flirted with him near the end or not. But you were still processing everything.

You shook your head, trying to get out of it. You didn’t want to go inside. Going inside meant being alone, alone with your thoughts and that’s the last thing you wanted.

What you wanted was company, what you wanted was someone you haven’t even met yet, yet you knew you’d feel better after seeing him. You wondered if you called Jason, if he would pick up and ask to meet up. It couldn’t hurt to try.

With a half-baked plan, you finally unlocked the door. The first thing you do is plug in your phone, the second is to shower.

You wanted it to be quick, the faster you're done the faster you can leave the apartment. But you’re not sure what happened between grabbing your clothes and now. You just know that when you come to, your hair is wet and dressed in your comfortable clothes, and you find yourself standing in front of the mirror.

You feel better, if only a little.  You wince at the bruise and you could cover it up, but you’re tired and you don’t want to stay here any longer than you already have. Instead, you bushed your hair and leave the bathroom.

With your phone half charged, you grab it and your keys and wallet before leaving the apartment. As you walk towards the elevator, you open up your phone to see a few missed calls from your sister and Jason, and some texts from Jason asking if you’re okay. You made a note to call your sister in the morning and tried to ignore the guilt at seeing the messages from Jason. You pressed the button for the elevator, your thumb hovering over Jason’s name.

Maybe calling him will be a mistake, Despair whispered in your ear.

Or, maybe it’ll be the best thing in the world and you won’t regret it, Desire countered. And hope bloomed a little in your chest. With that, you pressed the call button without much thought and brought the phone to your ear.

One ring, you step in the elevator as you begin to second guess yourself that this was a bad idea. Second ring, you press the button for the lobby, starting to panic. Maybe he won’t pick up. Half of you hoped. By the third ring, you're off the elevator and almost hung up when the call connects.

“Little Bird?” Jason answered, and the grip on the phone tightened. You really didn’t think he’d pick up, and he doesn’t sound tired. For how late it is, anyways. If anything, he sounds awake, like he was waiting for something.

Guilt rears back into your stomach again when you realize he was waiting for you. Tears start to pool in the corner of your eyes, and you blink them away. You didn’t want to cry, that was for later, when you're curled up in a ball in bed. Waiting for sleep that you know will never come.

“Hey, you still there?” Jason asked, voice soft as if he knew that’s what you needed right now. Your heart warms at the person you’re slowly falling for. You clear your throat and hope your voice sounds normal when you answer.

“Hi,” your answer is a whisper, and you find yourself you don’t care.

“Hi,” he greeted back and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m surprised you're still awake. Figured you’d be in bed by now.”

"Yeah, me too. But I’m too wired to sleep,” you said, forcing your feet to move. You start walking out of the building and towards your favourite café that’s near your place. “Surprised you’re awake too. Still helping your brother?”

You’re so engrossed with your conversation, that you don’t feel eyes on you as you walk. And Jason hoped to keep it that way. “Nah, doing my own thing before going to bed. Surprised you called though. Usually, you shoot me a message.”

You stall for a moment, almost tripping on your feet, before walking again. “Er, yeah. Sorry I just…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to say sorry. I don’t mind talking either. Besides, you've voice is music to my ears," Jason said, and you try not the blush with how casual he says things like that. "So, what’s up?”

You’re quiet for a second, chewing on your lip before blurting out the question, “do you want to meet up?”

You’re met with and you close your eyes at your stupidity. “Sorry,” you started, “that was stupid. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I get it. It’s fine. Plus, it’s super late, like two in the morning late. And we should be sleeping but the thought of being alone right now scares me. And I don’t want to be alone and I just really need some company. And I thought why not Jason? I wanted to meet him for awhile and I’ve now realized it was bad timing and-”

“Are you sure?” Jason interrupted your rambling and you couldn’t be more thankful. You were positive you would big yourself in a hole you couldn’t get out of if you kept talking.

“Sure about what?” you asked dumbly, as if you forgot what you had just asked him. You’ve reached the café and stood in front of the door, peering in.

“That you want to meet up,” Jason said with a chuckle.

“Oh, uh yeah, I am sure,” you said with a nod. “I mean if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure is,” he said, “can I ask what brought this on?”

You're silent for a moment, debating whether to answer him or wait until he’s here to say. But you think of the bruise under your eye and you think it’s better to tell him now. “I, um, almost got mugged on my way home. He didn’t get my stuff, but he did clock me in the face. Could be worse though, but I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Shit,” he breathed out, “are you okay?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled to the couple coming out of the café and stepped aside to let them go. You shrug even though he couldn’t see you. “Like I said, it could be worse.”

“Don’t. Don’t downplay what happened to you,” Jason said softly, “anyone would be shaken up after a mugging. You’re allowed to not be okay, sweetheart.”

The simple sentence is what breaks you, and you start letting the tears fall down your cheeks. “Damnit,” you mumbled, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “Have me crying in public Jason, not cool.”

“Sorry sweetie. Where are you? I’ll get there as soon as I can.” You rattle where you are and you can feel Jason’s smile through the phone. “I know the place. Order me a hot chocolate and I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Try not to break any laws now, Jason,” you muttered, though you smile all the same. Knowing you’ll meet Jason soon has you in better spirits since the incident happened.

“No promises.” With that, you hang up and walk into the building. You tell the barista your fine when she asks about the bruise and order your usual and Jason’s drink with a cake and find an empty table. You find yourself in the corner by a window, making your way over and you set your order down and sit facing the door.

You’re scrolling through your phone while you wait, trying to keep yourself distracted. And it helped with Jason texting you updates on what’s happening. You find it endearing, and a little silly, but it keeps you from spiraling and you're thankful.

Before you know it, you hear a roar of a motorcycle driving past, and you look up just in time to see them part in front of the building. You watch as they turn off the bike and climb off before taking the helmet off.

Breath escapes you as you recognize who it is, and pictures didn’t do Jason justice. Jason’s pretty, and you like the little white strip he has in his hair. It suits him, somehow.

Lifting your phone, you take a picture of him fluffing out his hair and type out a message saying you see him before sending it to him. You watch as he takes out his phone, frowning a little at the message. He whipped his head up and scanned the building until his eyes landed on you. All you can do is wave, and your heart almost leaps out of your chest at the smile he gives you.

It's brighter than you imagined and you're okay with it. Your eyes follow him as he makes his way inside. You stand when he makes his way towards you and you smile as he stands in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before you start to laugh. Not a full belly laugh, just a light chuckle as if someone told you a joke. You’re not sure why you find the whole thing funny, but you do. Maybe you're too tired to fully process it completely.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, a little worried. He took a step forward, arms moving to give you a hug, but stopped himself. Worried that you wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, scared that you might reject his touch. Your heart warms at the hesitation and you make the decision for him. Stepping forward, you wrap your arms around him and practically met into his chest.

After a moment of hesitation, Jason wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight. It's one of the best hugs you’ve ever had, and you can't seem to remember the last time someone hugged you that wasn’t family.

“I am now,” you whispered, blinking away more tears. “Sorry if this first meeting isn’t exactly to your expectations.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t change this for the world,” he said, leaning back a little. Snaking one hand to your chin, he gently lifted your face to look at you. He hissed a little at the bruising and you can’t seem to find yourself to be embarrassed about. Not with the look Jason’s giving you, like you’re the only person who matters to him.

“That’s good,” you mumbled, blushing a little with the attention he was giving you. You pull away a little, only to pull him to sit down. Your feet started to hurt and you needed to let them rest. Sitting across from him, you wrap your hands around your cup and let the heat seep into them. “You know, I almost didn’t call. Was too afraid you’d say no or something.”

Jason leaned over a bit and took off his jacket and you tried to not openly stare at his arms.

“Don’t think I could say no to you,” Jason said, taking a sip from his drink as you averted your gaze to his face. “But I’m glad you called, I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you to a coffee date or something. Something always stopped me though.”

“Well, we’re here now,” you pointed out, leaning over the table with a smile. “Nothing we can do but move forward.”

“Wise words coming from a lady who thought I was asking for a booty call,” Jason said with a smirk. You gasped at the reminder, and reached over to pull the plate of cake you had bought to share with him.

“You know, just for that, I’m not sharing this with you,” you said, and moved the plate closer when Jason moved to grab it.

“Now that’s not fair, Little Bird. It’s been a tough night dealing with my brothers all night, I need a little pick me up,” he said, trying to grab the plate from you again. You moved it just before he could grab it, and stuck your nose in the air.

“Guess you should have thought about that before insulting me, good sir.” Jason snorted, mock surrendering. You giggled and moved the plate back to the middle. “How was your night? Anything interesting happen?”

“Nah, not really. Turned out he didn’t really need my help, just said that to rope me in for family supper,” Jason answered, picking up the fork and stabbing a piece of cake before eating it.

“If you’re gonna be mean to the cake, I won’t share,” you threatened, trying not to smile when he gave you a look. “Family dinner huh? Can’t be all that bad.”

“It’s not,” Jason hummed, “I get to eat Alfred’s cooking and there are some siblings I don’t mind hanging out with. It can be too much sometimes, you know? Like they lived their lives while I was somewhere out there being raised by different people, you know?”

“Mm not really but I can imagine,” you said, smiling when he snorted. “But they’re trying, that’s all you can ask for. Question is though, are you trying?”

Jason shifted as you stared at him with raised eyebrows. “What is this? An interrogation?”

“Can be if you want it to be,” you quipped back. Following his lead as he leaned forward.

“If anyone’s gonna do the questioning, it’s gonna be me.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, Little Bird.”

The two of you stare at each other, waiting to see who cracks first at the challenge. You blink and you know you’ve lost. “Yeah okay. But you didn’t answer my question,” you reminded him, leaning back.

“Yeah I’m trying, just hard,” he answered and he took a moment to study you. “Are you doing okay? Not to be rude, but you look exhausted.”

You snort and rub your eyes only to wince when you touch the bruise. “I don’t know. I haven’t really had time to process everything properly.”

“How’d you mean?”

“Like I didn’t sit down and cry about it yet. When I got home all I wanted to do was leave. But I forced myself to shower but I think I blacked out or something, I don’t know. I don’t remember it. After that, I left my apartment as fast as I could and called you.”

“Which I’m glad you did, but now you have to take a moment and let it sink in. You can take it now, let yourself not be okay, I won’t judge. Hell, I’m probably the last person to judge.”

You gave him a sad smile and slowly slumping down into your seat, trying to hide from the mostly empty café. As if sensing what you’re trying to do, Jason gets up and moves to sit beside you, angling his body so you’re hidden from view.

A wave of fondness washes over you, and you think he can’t surprise you anymore then he already has. Taking a deep breath, you slowly let it out and close your eyes. Listening to Jason and let yourself not be okay.

The night plays like a movie behind your eyelids and you fight to keep it playing. You  feel all the emotions that you managed to push away hit you like a truck, making you tear up. You cover your eyes with your arm and feel movement from beside you.

But you're too embarrassed to look, so you wait until Jason’s right beside you.

“I’m going to hug you okay?” You hear Jason whisper close to your ear. You nod and almost flinch when his arms snake around your waist, but you don’t. This touch is warm, caring. The complete opposite of the mugger. You feel safe for the first time that night.

You relaxed in Jason’s embrace and balled your firsts in his shirt as you cried. He sat there, rubbing your side, whispering that you’re okay, that it will be okay, and waited until you were done. 

You sniffle when the sob has subsided but you don’t let go just yet. You’re exhausted, embarrassed that you ended up crying on Jason, and you're not yet ready to face him.

“You’re okay,” Jason murmured, squeezing you reassuringly. You only nod, moving slightly to wipe your nose with your sleeve. But as you move to do that, there’s a napkin in front of you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, taking it and blowing your nose.

“Feeling better?” Jason asked, moving slightly but he kept you in his hold. And you're grateful for it. His touch was something you could get used to.

“Yeah, much. I think I could sleep forever,” you joked, leaning into him you felt his chuckle more then heard it.

“Please don’t, I enjoy your company,” he said and you smiled. “I hope you feel the same.”

“I do,” you hummed, “I’m sorry for crying all over you. I think I got your shirt all wet and snotty.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. It was something you needed and I’ll gladly be your shoulder to cry on.”

Silence settled between you, and you closed your eyes feeling the need to sleep. The two of you stayed like that until Jason could feel your body relax into sleeping.

“Come on, I think it’s time for you to go home,” Jason stated, shaking you a little to keep you awake.

“Noooo,” you whined, pouting as you sat up slowly. “But I’m having a great time.”

“You need sleep,” Jason pointed out, collecting your garbage and standing to throw it out. When he came back, he put on his jacket and smirked as you stared. “We can always hang out another time. Maybe next time it won’t happen at three in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he answered, holding out his hand. You blinked at it before grabbing it and he helped you up. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to have,” you said, quick to shake your head.

“Please? For my peace of mind,” Jason said as he walked the both of you out. “Plus it prolongs the time I get to spend time with you.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you stop yourself and feel the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Fine,” you agreed begrudgingly, though glad for the company.

The walk was short, you spent the time talking about anything that came to mind. And before you knew it you were standing in front of your door. Jason had insisted on walking you up, to make sure you didn’t trip on anything. He had claimed and you didn’t seem to mind.

You have thought about inviting him in, but sleep was calling you and you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“So this is me,” you said awkwardly, unsure how to say goodnight.

“I had a good time,” he said, smiling. You squinted up at him, only now realizing how tall he was. 

“I ended up crying.”

“You had a bad night, you deserved to cry after what happened to you,” he countered. “Like I said, I’m the last person to judge.” 

“I’m going to get that story one day,” you challenged, and he leaned down a little, smirking. Cocky bastard.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, and you gently punched him in the chest with a laugh.

“Text me when you get home?”

“Awe, you worried about me,” he teased. You rolled your eyes as you took your keys out and unlocked the door.

“I can unworry about you,” you said, swinging the door open. Before going in, you turned and gave him a hug, squeezing tight. “Thanks, for you know.”

Jason returned the hug and buried his nose in your hair. “Anytime. Glad you're feeling better.”

You stay like that for a moment before Jason lets you go. He cupped your cheeks and for a brief moment, you thought he might kiss you.

“Night Little Bird, see you soon.”

With that, he turned and walked down the hallway, leaving you feeling warm inside.

Walking in, you unlocked the door and immediately plopped into your bed, letting your body relax. Sleep pulled at you but you were determined to stay awake until Jason texted.

But sleep was just as determined and stronger, you fell asleep just as your phone chimed.

Jason I’m home

#jason todd x reader #jason todd gn!reader #jason todd #batman imagine #online match up #my writing

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry]

read part 2 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: nothing yet but this fic is heathers-inspired, so be warned for the future.

author's note: hi guys, long time lurker first time poster. this is my first time WRITING fic so feel free to leave any critique. also i don't know if i did the cut right lol i have a lot planned and hope you like!

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Dear Diary,

I should’ve never let Mindy convince me to start this operation. 

Sure, it’s nice to have a steady cash flow, but nothing is more aggravating than everyone and their mother asking for doctor’s notes, report cards, prescriptions, and absence notes when I’m just trying to make it to fourth-period math. When I was ten, I expected to use my Nancy-Drew-inspired skills to unearth hidden staircases or find whistling statues, not help someone’s checked-out mom get a Xanax. 

Yet I forged three (3) permission slips today. Why? Because, next to mysteries, I love the sweet smell of cash in the morning. Yesterday, I added $150 to the rainy day fund. Hopefully, when the weather’s right, I'll be inspired to buy a car and ditch Woodsboro. This town is fucked, alright. Just ask Chad, Mindy, Sam, or–

“Tara! Jesus Christ!” I rub my leg where her sneaker connected. “What’s your damage?”

“Are you done, Shakespeare? You said you’d get lunch with me like, fifteen minutes ago.”

Tara isn’t so great with patience. But, again, I am not so great at keeping track of time. “Yeah, whatever,” I say. “Let’s go see what they’ve cooked up for us today.”

I follow her through the winding path of tables, chairs, and teenage bodies. As we go, I collect bills from outstretched hands and replace them with papers of varying sizes. Tara turns to smirk at me. “What was the event this time?”

“Oh, you know. It’s report card season, and this school is not known for its stellar GPAs.”

“We just have you to thank for keeping it floating below a 3.0,” she teases. “Tell me, Y/N. Does all that extra brainpower of yours get used up matching the way people dot their i’s and cross their t’s?”

I roll my eyes at her. “Sure, Tara. Let’s just get some lunch. I’m seriously starving.”

We grab trays and join the line, aimlessly chattering about the day. Tara’s been my friend since the beginning of the year when I was the only new kid in a town struck by tragedy. We were the only new buyers in Woodsboro over the summer. The rest are still empty, the memory of last year’s Ghostface attacks having driven out long-time residents.

What’s surprising, though, is that the so-called “Woodsboro Four” are still here. Sure, Sam, Tara, Mindy, and Chad mostly stick together, but despite the terrible tragedy that they witnessed, they let me and Annika, Mindy’s current girlfriend, into their lives. I could never measure up to that. I’m just glad they want to be my friend.

I’m taken out of my musings on friendship when I feel someone’s eyes on my back. Without turning around, I recite my usual speech. “$5 for report cards, $10 for prescriptions and absence notes, and an extra $5 for rush fees.”

“Woah, um, tempting, but I’m not looking for any forgery.”

Confused, I turn around to put a face to an unfamiliar voice. The guy’s tall, almost as tall as Chad, with curly brown hair and brown eyes that widen when I meet them. “Sorry, I was just going to get my lunch, but you dropped some cash back here.”

For some reason, my voice is not working. All I can do is look up at him, suddenly captivated by how shy he seems to be. When I pause for a few moments too long, Tara reaches around and takes the money from his hand. “Uh, thanks. I’m sure my friend here appreciates it. Usually she’s more talkative.”

“Oh, god, yeah, sorry,” I finally get out, stumbling over my words. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Suddenly, I think he remembers to be bashful and walks away without another word.

When he’s gone, Tara laughs. “God, Y/N, drool much? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

I flush red. “Whatever, Tara, you’re the worst.” I give her a playful shove and walk off to buy my lunch. I hand the money to the cashier, but all I can think about are those big, brown eyes, and I know I’m fucked.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #scream 2023 #jack champion #heathers #heathers au #high school au #ethan landry fanfiction

[tachimichishrine]

I swear no one does Higuchi justice like c’mon I’m BEGGING to be her cute wife that cooks for her whenever she comes from the Mafia. The chokehold she has on me is just *mwah* she’d be so sweet

also love your tachihara fanfiction it’s my dinner everyday <3

<never been crazy abt higuchi but writing for her just,,, it did smth ok- GAH HOW IS THERE NOT A SINGLE FIC OUT THERE FOR HER?? also you're so sweet ill be sure to feed u properly huheeheheh... thank you for your service to the tachi community btw, all the best w your writing n future fics ^w^ >

"housewife"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

higuchi ichiyo x wife! reader

warnings: i attempt fluff again ; this is so short idk why, apologies my liege ; this is fiction bc there's no way i could cook smth and not poison my wife/ burn the house down in the process ,,, ; tw bath!! (/j it's all just fluff) ; l e s b i a n s ; love language is phys touch deal with it ; itty bitty cursing ; lowercase intended ; NOT proofread

you knew not to panic in such situations. waking up to disheveled sheets that had turned frigid, indicating that ichiyo had been gone too long. you allowed yourself to sleep in, given that you had the day off and decided you'd just lounge around, take a break and plan something nice for your lover in the meantime.

a stress-free period, but all you felt was anxiety when you dialed her number and got sent straight to voicemail repeatedly. this time, you decided you might as well actually leave a message when the line rang for too long.

"'chiyo, honey, call me back when you get this. just wanna make sure everything's okay, alright? I miss you already, love y-"

"who the hell is this?"

you'd been anticipating the automated voice so much that it barely registered that you didn't actually hear it this time, and a quick glance at the screen confirmed that you really were on call with someone on the other end of the line. the voice was raspy, definitely not hers, so you echoed back the question.

"um, who are you?" you challenged with a hand on your hip that they couldn't see.

except, instead of a response, you heard some distant voices on the other line, one rather hyper as it babbled something you interpreted as 'akutagawa-senpai!'. a few noises ensued along a brief chaos you couldn't see, and suddenly the phone was put back to someone's ear as they panted. you could recognize that heavy breathing anywhere.

"hey, hey, 'chiyo, what's going on?" you spoke softly, hoping she was alright and not trying to scare her.

she stuttered nervously. "sorry, I'm so sorry, I must've dropped my phone somewhere and akutagawa-senpai picked it up and-"

"woah, was that the akutagawa you're always talking about?" you couldn't believe it; after being with her for so long, you'd only ever heard stories about the people with whom she worked. you agreed that the kind of place where she operated was dangerous and it was better not to get yourself involved, so she kept you separated from everything she did. you appreciated the thought, but sometimes you felt a little frustrated that you couldn't meet the people in her life— you didn't even think they were aware ichiyo was married.

a tired sigh confirmed your theory. "look, [_____], I'll call you back when-"

"higuchi, who is that?"

akutagawa seemed to be speaking again, and quite frankly you didn't like his tone. if you were on speaker, you'd set him straight but for now you just listened to ichiyo ramble a response while not actually answering the question. he sounded tired of the bullshit and eventually the line was cut off harshly. something told you that you won't be able to call this number anymore.

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music played on the speaker as you hummed, tray of baked goods getting pulled out of the oven by your gloved mitten. the smell filled out the rather small place you shared with both your wife and sister-in-law, but the latter was out for the week on some kind of trip and left you all alone. you'd gotten used to ichiyo's erratic lifestyle, sometimes disappearing during the day and barely making it home at night. she sounded exhausted when she did arrive, so you didn't mind taking care of the little things.

proud of yourself, you put the assorted goods in various plates and left them on the table, waiting for her to come home. you couldn't call her, obviously, since it appears her boss had pulverized the device out of rage. you'd be worried if not for the fact that, based on her stories, it seemed this was a regular occurrence and she didn't mind it. you'd feel jealous of the man if it weren't for the fact that she fawned over you much harder in all the days you'd known her. she knows what she wants and does everything to get it, you'll give her that. by nature, ichiyo was incredibly caring and it was difficult to hold that against her

something was in your hands as you lounged on the couch, passing the time: a book, your phone, anything to keep your mind occupied. the sun had set and you were getting impatient, as nighttime meant she was going to be out until the early hours and might even come home with a particular scent on her clothing that resembled blood and death. how a person so sweet, so feeling could get into this kind of business was beyond you, much less how she could last thing long. she once told you that the only reason she could keep her mind this long was coming home to your soft kisses and pampering.

a clicking of the front lock and the creaking that ensued signaled that you were about to do that once more, and you strolled over to the entrance with an excited smile.

"welcome home, 'chiyo, how wa-" you caught yourself off when you saw a splatter of crimson along her cheek. your lips tugged downwards into a frown as a reflex, and you sighed gently once you saw her expression. she seemed so conflicted, not about whatever crime she'd done but about making you worry so quickly. "hey, hey, it's okay, c'mere."

with that, you pulled her into your embrace and set a kiss on her hair. it still smelled like that shampoo you'd bought her, a subtle vanilla and chamomile that reminded you of her. her entire body slumped into your strong arms, and she let you drag her across the house, shedding her shoes, meticulously pulling the elastic out of her hair to let her messy bun fall into a bob, then helping her out of her unbuttoned jacket. you pulled her body into yours as you laid down on the couch again, but this time with her head shoved into your chest, which was one of her favourite things to do.

"wanna talk about it?" you asked, dumbly, one of your regular antics. of course she wanted to talk about it; she did an awful job keeping things to herself anyways.

so, you listened carefully while she recounted stories with fake names to keep you protected and vague details in certain places, specific in others. she didn't seem hungry, so you just skipped the food for now and dragged her to your bedroom. you were about to throw her pajamas and get her to change so you could just lay down in bed for the evening, but the burgundy was darkening on patches on her arm and you couldn't help but stare at it.

"—so akutawaga-senpai showed up and I felt a little stupid but he-" you interrupted her by grabbing her shoulders and giving her a little shake.

"honey, can we clean off... that..." you danced around the topic, but she knew exactly what you meant when your eyes kept darting to certain areas of her skin. she nodded and you gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. "I'll run the bath and we can scrub it off. keep going, I'm listening."

she continued speaking as you did exactly that and eventually both of you were stripped and laying down in the tub. she was sitting in between your legs, with her back resting on your chest and head leaning back to rest on your shoulder. you traced her body, rubbing into certain patches until her skin was back to its beautiful glow. the warmth of both her and the water was too comforting, and you stayed longer than needed, your fingertips turning raisin-like in protest. despite this, you leaned down to kiss her up and down her neck while you gently massaged her flesh from her thighs to her hips, her stomach to her breasts. if she wasn't so tired that she eventually ran out of steam and stopped talking just to revel in your embrace, you might've handled her a little differently. yet, at this moment the only desire you had was to pamper her.

"ichiyo..." you breathed out slowly, lips grazing her ear while you kissed her again and spread out your fingers over her stomach. "mmmmn... 'missed you... i love you s'much..."

god, you would break her if you kept this up. so long together that you finally managed to put a ring on it yet she still fangirled over you like you were her high school crush. even as you pulled yourselves out of the sanctuary of steam and warmth in order to actually eat, she blushed every time you left a quick peck on her cheek or rubbed noses while chuckling softly.

she fell asleep in your arms, with her leg on top of you pulling you close like her very own plushie. it was hard not to smile at her once she began snoring and murmuring something about akutagawa during her slumber.

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hand in hand, you snuggled up in big jackets in the middle of the night to fend off the frigid breeze. holding onto your fingers wasn't enough, and ichiyo was fully clinging onto your bicep as you walked with her in the empty streets of yokohoma.

"this s-sounded so m-much more fun when w-we were inside... warm... by the f-fireplace.." her teeth chattered and she pulled herself closer into you.

"you were the one who suggested getting something from the café," you retorted with a chuckle, opposite hand brought up to tuck her hair behind her ear that was starting to turn pink from the cold. you rubbed your thumb along her cheek which was going through something similar, then sighed with a cloud of hot breath. "alright, honey we'll head in. i think there's another one on this street, we can just stay there and warm up before we go back, mkay?"

she would feel a bit ashamed about being so demanding if you hadn't pulled her in tighter and looked at her so lovingly. she had such an impossible time never believing she was capable enough at the mafia, and that discomfort disappeared as soon as you whispered sweet nothings into her ear and made her feel like everything was alright.

you turned your bodies together, door jingling as you stepped inside and the air blowing down from the heater hitting you. you realized that she was right, it was too damn cold outside, as soon as you felt the contrast of the inside. you turned towards your lover with a quick look to see if her body was as relieved as yours, but she was staring at something intensely on the horizon, like she'd seen a ghost.

you followed her gaze, and it fell on a man with tuffs of white in his hair standing next to a woman, slightly shorter but with noticeably long stands of black veiling the sides of her face.

"do you know them?" you whispered, and she jumped a little. part of her wanted to drag you outside, but she couldn't lie to you or keep things no matter how much her common sense told her to.

"that's... they're..." she was struggling to say something, anything, but you noticed she was letting herself get flustered. in these kinds of situations, you liked to interrupt her with a kiss to bring her back to earth from her constantly overreacting mind.

she pulled away before your lips could touch.

she'd never done that before.

you knew better, that this was probably a question of her not wanting the pda right now or maybe it had something to do with the duo standing over there waiting for their drinks, but it hurt nonetheless when you saw her squint her eyes shut and shake her head.

"that's akutagawa," she whispered as an explanation, and you felt simultaneously irritated and relieved, the former due to the fact that it confirmed that she hadn't told her boss that she was in a relationship, much less married. you understood why but it didn't sting any less.

"who's the girl?" you followed up, trying not to think about it too deeply. "is that.. uh... gin?"

she nodded meekly, and it was impossible to stay mad for long when she was so cute. you slid your hand around her waist, turning her around so that her back was to the pair and they wouldn't recognize her while she spoke to you. your voice dropped so low she could barely hear it. "should we get out of here so they don't see us? I'm not that cold, I can wait outside if it makes you more comfortable, honey."

how could she ask you to do something like that when your words were so caring, so honest? she took a deep breath and shook her head once more. in one impossibly fast motion you found yourself on the other end of the shop, standing in front of the man.

"akutagawa-senpai!" ichiyo exclaimed just a bit too loudly for this time of the day and the serenity of the empty café. she bowed her head down, speaking incredibly quickly. "I don't mean to interrupt your evening but it's come to my attention that you don't know that I'm married and this is my wife her name is [_____] and she's wonderful and-"

"'chiyo, he won't be able to understand what you're saying," you laughed softly, cutting her off as you placed your hand on her back reassuringly before addressing her boss with a respectful nod. "it's nice to finally meet you, akutagawa-san. I've heard a lot about you."

he barely bothered to acknowledge you, but the slight twitch in the spot that should've housed his eyebrows signaled that he was shocked. your smile grew wider when you looked to his sister who was sporting the same look. you pulled ichiyo against you from her hip as if to prove that she was indeed yours, and spoke slowly to explain snippets of the current situation. gin listened carefully without a word while the man tried his very best to seem completely uninterested.

as much as you wanted to learn everything there was to know about ichiyo's other side, eventually his drink was ready and he barely excused himself as he walked out. you watched him do so, and gin nodded to you and said something about how nice it was to make your acquaintance in a meek voice before quickly following him out. you waved, and noticed akutagawa watching you do so warmly before burying his face in his coat and scampering off.

"well," you giggled, turning back towards ichiyo, "that wasn't so bad. she's cute and he's an ass, but I trust your judgement in people."

you could practically see stars in her eyes; she rambled to you the entire walk home - during which she didn't complain about the cold a single time and was nearly bouncing off the sidewalk - about how much he clearly loved you based on his expression (apparently the fact that he didn't try to kill you on the spot was a sure sign of his support). she was so excited she even suggested bringing you with her to the port mafia tomorrow, but you stopped her and told her to slow down for just one second. you loved that she was so passionate about her emotions, but you wanted to talk and think this through before you did anything.

for tonight, though, you let her radiate with happiness as she jumped on top of you, making the mattress creak while she climbed up to sit on your lap and curl her fingers around the fabric of your shirt. your hands on her hips, she sat down with her knees bent on either side of you like a frog and leaned so you were chest-to-chest. she tickled your skin to draw out soft giggles while she peppered you with kisses, littering you with her best efforts to repay just a fraction of what you did for her. you rubbed her thighs in long, loving motions and brought her up so she was sitting on your hips instead. you wanted her closer, and she was happy to oblige as she kissed your lips.

"[_____]," she said, smiling into you, "I'm so lucky..."

you cut her off with a press upwards and a firm grip. "shhh, don't say anything. I love you, you love me and that's all we need."

she murmured your name that night in her sleep instead of akutagawa's.

#so funny writing this after prev ask but wtv i can let myself be domesticated for her #higuchi bsd #higuchi ichiyo #bsd higuchi #bsd x reader #bsd x reader fluff #higuchi x reader #higuchi ichiyo x reader #ichiyo higuchi #bsd #bungou stray dogs #im unwell for them

[sweetyyhippyy]

Little Tadpole. Dad!Eddie series. *FLUFF*

(I made a header!! 🥰)

Summary: Eddie finds out that he’s going to be a dad 🥹

Word count: 809

TW: Pregnancy. Mentions of nausea. Soft fluff 🥹

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

All she could do was pace around their room as she thought out how she was going to tell Eddie the news. 

It wasn’t like they were really trying to not get pregnant; condoms were something they stopped using a long time ago, she had stopped taking her birth control right before their wedding, and they just weren’t careful in general. Their look on it was if they got pregnant, they got pregnant. But this wasn’t something they were expecting so soon. 

The past few weeks she hadn’t felt like herself. She had the run of the mill pregnancy symptoms: nausea in the morning, tired body, sensitive to certain smells, and late period. Finally she went to the doctor and they confirmed she was indeed pregnant, just a little over 9 weeks to be exact. 

She could hear the front door squeak open and shut, Eddie’s keys jingling as he put them down in the dish by the door. 

“Babe? You home?” He calls out. 

“Y-yeah hold on I’m coming.” She gathers herself mentally and heads down the hall to Eddie who's in the kitchen looking for a snack. “Hi baby, how was work?” She hops onto the kitchen counter, sitting while she waits for Eddie to turn back around and look at her. 

“Work was pretty good. Finally finished working on that ‘67 Impala that I’ve been working on for months. It came out looking so good.” Eddie beamed as he talked about the hard work he put into the car, trying to explain to her how he restored it. “Sorry, I’m probably boring you.” 

“No, you’re not. I like when you’re proud of yourself, and I like hearing about it. My mind is just kinda elsewhere right now.” 

“Oh? What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asks, moving his torso in between her legs as he looks up at her. 

“Um… well, you know I haven’t been feeling good lately. And I went to the doctor today to see why I haven’t been myself.” 

Eddie is fully concentrating on her words, slightly nervous that she was going to say that she has some incurable disease. 

“They did a few tests on me, but one of them said that I’m pregnant.” The words flow out of her mouth all at once. 

Eddie’s brown eyes widen slightly, his mouth dropping open slightly. “You’re what?” 

Her heart starts racing, having to repeat herself. “We’re going to have a baby.” She tried to sound cheerful but it came out way more scared and nervous. 

He exhales, taking a step back while he tries to think clearly. “A baby? We’re going to have a baby?” He questions. 

She nods her head, feeling her stomach twist at his lack of reaction. “I know this wasn’t exactly part of our plan yet… We have a few months to figure it out but I think we can kick ass at this parenting thing.” 

He had no expression on his face, leaning on his hands pressed to the counter. “A baby?” He repeats.

“Eddie!” She whines, over the fact that he hasn’t said anything else. “Come on, I'm scared here too! But I need you to give me something other than two words.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just taking me a minute to think. I mean… a baby, we’re going to have a little human to take care of and make sure they’re a functioning member of society.” 

She drops his gaze and looks down at her hands. “So… are you not ready for that?” 

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that baby, read the room Munson.” He mutters to himself. “That was me talking out loud. It’s a scary thought, but you’re right, I know we can do it. I am a little scared but I got both of you forever, I’m not going to let either of you down.” Eddie says in a mellow, calming voice. 

Her eyes started to glisten with tears at his words, her hand coming down to cup his face in her hands. “You never heard the expression ‘don’t make a pregnant woman cry’?” She laughs, sniffling. 

Eddie smiles up at her, his own big doe eyes filling with his own tears. “We’re going to be parents.” He says in disbelief, his hands finding her stomach. “Our baby is in there.” 

“Yeah they are. I’m glad I’m doing this with you.” 

Eddie stretches his neck up to kiss his wife, the mother of his future child, kissing her so tenderly but full of love. “I love you so much. And I love you so much already, little tadpole.” 

She can’t help but laugh at Eddie. “Did you just call our baby a tadpole? They aren’t a frog, Eds.” 

“Eh, it’s the first thing I could come up with. But I think it’ll stick. It’s kinda cute.” 

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson fem x reader #Eddie Munson headcanon #Eddie Munson one shot #Eddie Munson x fem! reader #Eddie Munson x reader #dad!Eddie #dad!Eddie Munson

[whoschr]

HURT — a heeseung smau

005 || POOKS + written (0.6k)

⭐️🫧 in which losing a bet pushes you to the door of consequences with the school’s playboy, LEE HEESEUNG. “Ask him out to one of the biggest events at school.” Sadies. Does everything just stop here though, or does it all become tied with luv?

w !!. mentions of bruises. kys/die jokes. non proofread. getting into a fight. aspects of a fight mentioned. lmk if i missed anything! ignore time stamps - ☆

mlist ⇔ next ⇔ previous

After what seemed to be like forever since stepping foot on campus, you were greeted with the smiles of your friends after coming out of the principal's office where you and Haerin handled the silly mess she caused for you.

Outside the principal’s office was a bench, where Sakura and Danielle seemed to be waiting for you whom they had waited days to return to school.

Getting there, you shared 1 minute of gossip with them with Haerin behind you, laughing at how loud the three of you guys were, possibly attracting attention from the whole school.

Linking arms the 4 of you walk to class 2A, as the bell would be ringing in seconds.

Before entering, the loudest of sounds echoed from inside, to part of the hall your group was at.

Scared a little, you walk in, tugging onto the arms of your 3 other friends.

Entering, you were greeted with screams and cheers.

“YNNNN you’re back.” “WE MISSED YOU OMG.”

The atmosphere was all great until your seat in the class looked different.

It wasn’t just different.

It was very different. A female individual was sitting in it. From the shrugs of everyone in the class, the female must’ve been the new student Gyuvin was filling you in on earlier.

The seat was still clearly yours even after a period of absence. As if it wasn’t, your name tag would’ve been ripped off. You had your ideas and priorities straight, so you decided to go talk to her about possibly moving somewhere else before the teacher came.

You leave your friends behind and approach her.

From her nametag, her name was Seoyoung.

“Seoyoung!”

She rolled her eyes at you. “What?!”

“Um, I think you have the wrong seat. The roster says your seats over there near the bookshelf.”

“So? I know. But what if I chose to sit here? Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I think I have every right to do so. I’m the class president.”

“No, you’re not. Back off.”

“Get out of my seat then.”

She doesn’t reply to you this time, but rather she gets up out of your seat. As you thought she was giving you back your seat she takes her hand out of her pocket, grabbing your hair.

As she drags you to the wall, the sounds of footsteps rang in your ears.

She gets her other hand out ready to do something until a male hand stops her on time.

The male was tall with an added feature of a pair of broad shoulders between his slim but muscular figure with a slight perm between his purple hair.

“What are you doing to her?”

It was Lee Heeseung.

Seoyoung yelped. “Let go of me!”

Just as she had done so, a man, a buff one, had walked in. Raising his voice on both of you and Heeseung.

“What are you doing to my girlfriend?”

Those words were nothing but the start of a fight that had broken out between the individual and Heeseung.

The more the grunts, the more the bruises that would come up. You would try to help break up the fight, but nothing had worked.

You were already stressed until you heard the footsteps of your homeroom teacher come in. You had already had a bad reputation with what Haerin had accused you of and either way, you weren’t gonna risk it.

You grabbed Heeseung’s hand, signaling him to get out of the fight because the teacher was coming.

You guys ran across the halls, and even into the courtyard, finding a safe place to hide.

As he looked into the distance to see if anyone was coming, you looked at him, deeply at his bruises, wondering why he would do such a thing when you both were just classmates.

Finding his gaze back to you, he looks at you asking if you are okay or not.

You shoot him a weak smile.

“I’m more than ok. I think I should be asking YOU that instead.”

+ CHAE NOTE. hi from the dead 😵

C PTLIST. @yenqa @zaannnaaaa @kpopstanmeg @flwoie @vivkiz @redm4ri @teddywonss @felixinameadowandthesuniswarm @y4wnjunz

🎀!? smau tlist. [BOLD USERS CAN NOT BE TAGGED] @imhuh @rikisly @nxtsnw @ghostiiess @latriii @flwrshee @staryyeon @kjrcrz @heart4hees @ashy1um @deobitifull @yeomha @luvistqrzzz @nomniki @aernx @tzyuki @kissezfornamjoon @heeswif3y @jiaant11 @yunjinluv7 @ckline35 @felixinameadowandthesuniswarm @lalalalawon @enhastolemyheart @solstramaii @rodygr @hyuckscore @aylin-hijabi @loveliii @jyndre @sngvhs @aeminju @yueriots @luvrseung

#kflixnet #k labels #enhanet #en web #hyfenet #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smau #enhypen fake texts #enha x reader #enha fluff #enhypen socmed au #enhypen drabbles #enhypen social media au #enha smau #enhypen headcanons #enhypen masterlist #heeseung imagines #heeseung au #heeseung fluff #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #enhypen heeseung #enha scenarios #enhypen headers

[caughtonwebcam]

my trans! kyle au

this is still a wip but here’s a snippet of a fanfic I’m writing :)

cw: mentions/descriptions of menstruation/blood, gender dysphoria

————

“It’s perfectly normal, bubbie. You’re just getting older. Your body is maturing into an adult.”

Kyle fidgeted with his hands, sinking lower into his bed in shame.

“But I’m not an adult! I’m only thirteen!” he exclaimed to his mother, still refusing to make eye contact. “Why is this happening?” 

The red-haired woman raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t teach you in school?”

Kyle shook his head, confused as ever. The education system when it came to sex ed was never the best. He had recalled learning about periods, but it was never properly explained how it worked and his own biology. It was all about STDs and abstinence. 

“Well,” started Sheila, “once a month, your body releases an egg to be fertilized by a man and make a baby. If it’s not fertilized, the blood build up for the baby is disposed of through the vagina.”

Kyle shuddered, recoiling in disgust. “Ugh! Don’t say that word!”

His mother rolled her eyes. “Be mature, Kyle. Anyways, it’s what’s called a menstrual cycle. Does that make sense?”

Kyle wrinkled his nose. Gross. What if he didn’t want to give birth to a kid? And for a week each month? What was the point?  He shrugged.

Sheila sighed, rubbing the Kyle’s back in comfort. The scrawny boy still trembled a little, still taken aback by what was happening to him. “You see, Kyle,” Sheila began steadily, “it’s something every… every…” She trailed off, searching for better wording.

Kyle perked his head up, eyes widening with concern. “Every what?”

“— Every female born person experiences. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”  There it was again. A reminder. Of the stupid body that was given to him by God. The curse of femininity that he couldn’t erase no matter how hard he tried. He could cut his hair, layer sports bras under his orange jacket, deepen his voice and yet, while it did help ease his dysphoria significantly, he’d still bleed. Both his uterus and heart. If anything, that was scarier than the first sight of blood in the school bathroom earlier that day. 

Kyle groaned, burying his sunspot dappled face in his arms, another pang of  nausea twisting in his abdomen. 

Ugh, shit. How long is this gonna last?

“I think I’m just gonna… lay down for a bit,” the boy grumbled as he pulled the plush comforter over his head. Sheila nodded, ruffling Kyle’s red curls sympathetically. 

“Sure,” she replied, “I’m going to go make you some hot tea. It’ll help soothe the cramps.”

Kyle smiled weakly, “thanks mom.”

When she shut the door behind her, the ginger boy’s grin fell, being replaced by a sour grimace as the twisting in his gut made him want to vomit, his head feeling lighter. He rolled onto his back, cringing as the small movement made more warm blood flow out of him. 

Kyle clutched his stomach and squeezed his thighs together as tears pricked his eyes. 

Holy fuck. This was the worst.

~~~

Stan pursed his lips as he rang the doorbell. Something must have been really wrong if Kyle left school early. Was he hurt? The question plagued his mind until suddenly, Sheila opened the door. She looked down and smiled, being met with the boy, who carried a large gift basket filled to brim with boxes of sanitary products, among other things. “Can I help you?”

”Um, hi, Ms. Broflovski. Is Kyle home?”

Sheila glanced back for a moment, before returning her gaze to Stan. “Yes,” she replied, “he’s upstairs resting right now, though.” 

Stan’s eyes brightened. Good, so he was okay. “Can I see him?”

Sheila bit her bottom lip. “I wouldn’t right now if I were you.”

”Please?” Stan pleaded, “can you at least just give this to him and say it’s from me?” He held up the basket.

Sheila exhaled. “Okay, fine. But I’m not sure if he’s in the mood for visitors.”

#south park #south park fanfic #trans character #trans kyle broflovski #transgender #kyle broflovski #stan marsh

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Come What May, Ch. 1

Summary: While completely improvised, Gabriel’s plan to transfer his memories in the container fly before erasure was rather solid. It came very close to working, too. But ‘close’ was not enough. [SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2] Characters: Gabriel, Beelzebub, Crowley, Aziraphale, Murien, Michael, Uriel, Saraquael Rating: T   All chapters will be tagged as ‘come what may’ on my blog.

A/N: Beelzebub is Concerned and about to make it everyone else's problem.

***

[Back to Prologue]

***

“So, after I’m done writing, I check this box…”

“Yep.”

“... roll the parchment up like this, seal it…”

“Yep.”

“... aaand place it here. Yes?”

“Yes! You’re doing brilliant, Jibreel - and in just three days!”

As the parchment faded in a gleam of light, safely filed away and archived for all eternity, Muriel couldn’t help but clap a little. It was a simple task, but Jibreel looked very happy to have accomplished it, and she was very happy to see him looking very happy. Or to see anyone happy. Or to see anyone, period. So honestly, the clapping felt warranted. 

He grinned back, widely. “Thanks! I think I did good. Felt good.”

“You’ll be up to 37th class in no time at all! Get your own office and all.”

“Oh, I hope not. I like it here,” he replied, and sat back. He looked around and their white surroundings, at the empty surface before him. “... What now?”

“Oh! Now’s the exciting part! We wait for more things to come through that we can sort, record, and add to the archive.”

“That’s great! When are they coming?”

“Ah, we… we don’t know that, actually. Sometimes it’s a lot in a day! And sometimes it’s very little in a year. We’re in a bit of a slump now. The record was fifty years of nothing, back in the fifth century. Never had such a long empty stretch since, though.”

“Oh.” Jibreel frowned a little, looking around again. “So, what do we do now?”

Muriel tried to smile, but it was… a little bit forced. “Now we wait.”

“Right! I can wait. I’m good at waiting, I think.”

“Great!”

A few minutes passed. Muriel was used to long periods of just sitting there in silence, but it seemed… odd to do that, now that she was not alone. She shifted a little before speaking again. “So, um. What did you do before?”

“Before?”

“Before you were assigned to this post. Were you part of the Earth observation team?”

Jibreel narrowed his eyes, thinking hard. “I… don’t think so?”

“Oh. Well, surely you had a duty before?”

“I guess I must have? Everyone does, right?”

“You mean-- you don’t remember?”

“I remember coming here.” A frown. “An elevator, I think? I was standing near an elevator. Then that nice angel… the one earlier…” the frown deepened, and he rubbed his head as though in pain. That was odd, Muriel thought. It wasn’t an angel thing, to be in any pain. 

“Saraqael?” she asked.

“No, another one. I… I can’t recall. She came over and gave me new clothes, then she told me my name and that other one - Saraqael - took me here.”

“And it’s the first thing you remember?”

Jibreel nodded, and Muriel couldn’t help but wonder what that was all about. It was unusual, to say the least. “Oh.”

“That’s… not normal?”

“Ah-- no, no, it’s… I mean, I never heard… but I don’t see a lot of angels, you know! So maybe it’s perfectly normal!” 

The confused frown disappeared, quickly as it had come, and Muriel quickly changed subject. “Oh, I know what we can do! I can help you practice what to say if someone comes in to ask for information! They do that sometimes. Last time was two hundred years ago.”

“Oh?” “Yes! So someone could need us anytime now!”

Another bright smile, and Jibreel stood. “On it! So, what do I do?”

“All right, so you’ll be the one asking, and I’ll reply, so you see how it’s done.”

“Great! What do I ask?”

“Oh, uh… say you need to double check directive C3483, paragraph 53, comma 89.”

“Perfect!”

As Jibreel stood to do as instructed neither of them noticed the fly buzzing quietly above them, one small dark dot in the endless whiteness.

***

“... Well. He does get to have a desk now, I suppose.”

“About half of one, but yes.”

“And he’s settled well?”

“He’s been learning his new duties with no incident. He seems rather content.”

“That’s good to know, Saraqael. I would not have wished him to be displeased with his new role. He has served Heaven well for thousands of years.”

“Of course. None of us would want that.”

A brief silence, and Michael moved her gaze from Saraqael to Uriel, who was staring out one of the windows, rigid and silent. Michael had to wonder whether it was all annoyance over the fact she had been right when she’d pointed out that Gabriel did not have, nor had ever had, a desk. He had indeed tried to make a run for it; Uriel had found him standing in front of the elevator, staring blankly at it, his jacket and shirt already off. 

Where he had tried to go was anybody’s guess. Perhaps he’d simply become scared they would cast him down to Hell after all. But his fear had been for nothing: he would remain in Heaven, where he belonged, getting his chance to start anew. 

“All’s well that ends well,” Michael said in the end. “Now we can focus on the preparation for Armageddon. I will re-establish diplomatic relations so we can agree on a time and--”

“Saraqael,” Uriel spoke, cutting her off like she hadn’t been speaking at all. “We have never attempted a complete memory wipe, let alone on someone as high ranking as a supreme archangel before. Are you certain it has worked as intended?”

A slightly offended scoff. “Of course it has. You saw him, didn’t you? Not a spark of recognition. I know what I’m doing.”

“I did not mean to offend,” Uriel replied, with the tone of someone whose concerns are not yet entirely eased. “I am not familiar with the procedure, and am asking you to confirm it has worked as intended.”

“It did. All his memories as the archangel Gabriel are gone from his mind.”

“From his mind.”

Ah. Michael could now see what it was that concerned Uriel. She frowned, and looked back at Saraqael. “I don’t suppose they could be destroyed from any plane of existence?”

A light scoff. “Nothing which belongs in Heaven can be downright destroyed. Unless we use hellfire, but it’s not an option with memories - not that it worked too well on an angel when you last tried, from what I heard,” Saraqael pointed out, very much aware of how little Michael and Uriel liked being reminded of that particular fiasco. “Destroying an angel’s memories like they have never been is beyond even the abilities of Metatron. God alone may wield such power.”

Michael and Uriel exchanged a quick glance. In the end, it was Uriel to speak. “... No need to bother God with any of this,” she said, as though God had answered to any of their messages in the past six thousand years. 

Saraqael nodded.

“Of course not. Besides, if destroying them is beyond anyone’s scope but God’s, so is retrieving them,” she pointed out. “Even if he knew he had memories to retrieve, which he does not, it would require a miracle whose power by far surpasses Gabriel’s own.”

“... There is no Gabriel, Saraqael.”

“Of course not,” she replied with a nod, and Michael nodded back. 

“Very well. We can consider the matter sorted. Now, as I was saying, if we’re to decide a new date for Armageddon, we should resume diplomatic contact with--”

The phone she’d left on the nearest surface lit up, and began to vibrate. She looked down at the name on the display, and raised an eyebrow. 

Well, she thought. Speak of the literal devil.

***

“Michael.”

“Lord Beelzebub, what a surprise. To what do I owe the displeasu--”

“I’m not speaking with you. Get me the moron in chief.”

“... I don’t believe we have such a title here,” Michael said, her already cold voice turning to frost. “Perhaps if you’d like to specify--”

“I demand to speak with Gabriel.”

“I am afraid that’s not possible.”

Beelzebub ground their teeth so hard that their jaw creaked. The grip on the phone became tight enough to crack the screen. They loathed making the call, but it had been three days since they first received that message upon trying to contact Gabriel, and they could no longer bear it. “Then make it possible, or I’ll give you plenty of excellent reasons to be afraid.”

“There’s no reason to be even more unpleasant than you usually are,” was the reply, without the slightest hint of intimidation. Not that Beelzebub had expected it to work. Michael was considered Heaven’s mightiest warrior for a reason. Her reputation for single-handedly throwing Satan himself down into the abyss was somewhat exaggerated, but not by much. “Whatever it is you wish to discuss with him, it can be discussed with me.”

“No, it cannot.”

“May I ask why not?”

Because you’re hiding something. Because this is all kinds of wrong. Where is he?

They wanted to say all that and more, scream and threaten, demand to know what was going on, but they did not. It would mean showing their hand early and that was something they could not afford. If Michael found out she had an edge on them, they’d never get answers. 

So, in the end, they said something else entirely. “You’re too far below me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you wish, but I pardon nothing. I only discuss with my equals, or the closest to an equal to be found within your ranks. It’s the supreme archangel, or no one.”

“Then I fear I’ll need to disappoint you,” Michael replied, sounding all too pleased about it. “At the moment, the position is vacant.”

The gnawing worry that had been eating away at Beelzebub’s already rather rotted guts turned to something else, cold and dark and suffocating. Vacant? It couldn’t be vacant. It had never been vacant. It’s never a good sign for a position in Heaven or Hell to become vacant. 

Where is he? What happened to him? What have you done?

The urge to scream returned, bubbling and buzzing up their throat, but they held it back, gnashing their teeth. They had to keep calm. Show Michael a single weakness, and it is over.

“What the Heaven do you mean, vacant? Heaven has never been without its supreme archangel.”

“It is temporary. Until someone else is appointed.”

Did they know? Did they find out? It seemed the most logical explanation, but at the same time Michael was saying nothing. Surely, if she knew - if Heaven knew Gabriel had been fraternizing with them - she’d be rubbing it in their face, wouldn’t she? Gabriel himself, the absolute moron he was, had never been concerned by the possibility. 

“What’s the worst they could do? Throw me down to Hell for you to deal with? Oh, the horror.”

“Oh, not afraid I might make you regret it?”

“Not even if you try your worst.”

“Where is Gabriel?” Beelzebub snapped, unable to hold back. Thankfully they snapped a lot, and the barked order came across as annoyance rather than growing dread. They were not new to dread, running Hell and all, but this was different from any type of dread they’d ever encountered or felt before. It’s the kind of dread of someone who stands to lose something. 

“Gabriel has been called to a different task.”

“What task?”

“It is confidential,” was the response. “Now, what did you intend to discu--”

The call ended abruptly. Throwing a phone at the wall - or in this case, the thick glass screen overseeing Hell - will usually cause that.

The crash caused a couple of demons to wince and turn, and a single snarl from Beelzebub was enough to get them quickly back to work. They stepped away from the glass and began pacing, trying to clear their mind. At the moment, the only clear thing was that they had absolutely no future in the field of diplomatic relations; everything else was a maelstrom of confusion and fear unlike anything they had experienced before.

Gabriel had disappeared, that was a fact. And he had disappeared without a word to them, his phone disconnected, leaving the position of Supreme Archangel vacant. 

Gabriel was missing, and Heaven was hiding the reason why. Called to a different task, Michael had said, but something about her tone had told Beelzebub precisely what they needed to know, and had feared to hear. Gabriel had been removed from office, and yet he had not been cast down to Hell. 

So where was he? He had to be somewhere, it’s not like they could destroy an archangel. They had no means to do such a thing in Heaven, unless… unless…

Hellfire. The hellfire they had given them four years earlier, to deal with their own traitor. The one who had first worked to prevent Armageddon, just as Gabriel had done later.

We never took that fire back. What if they chose the same sentence, for the same crime?

Beelzebub stopped pacing as though struck. They saw it with the mind’s eye, Gabriel screaming in flames they had delivered to Heaven before being reduced to nothing, utterly destroyed. Gone. 

With no warning, the core itself of Hell shook and flames flared higher. Demons yelped in surprise and damned souls cried out in terror, but any sound they made was drowned out by a screeching cry blackest fury, deepest hatred, and utter pain. The glass screen cracked and shattered, and a swarm of flies burst forth, a black mass drowning out the cries of damned and demons alike even as the screeching scream faded in a low, guttural growl. 

They’ll pay for it. I’ll start the war here and now. Rules be damned. Agreements be damned. Warnings be damned. We’ll scorch Heaven and Earth with hellfire and I’ll see them scream and die, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll-- I--

A soft buzzing sound, and a single fly landed on Beelzebub’s hand, which was balled into a tight fist. They looked at it, still growling and shaking, and suddenly they found themself thinking of another fly entirely. The container, their gift to Gabriel. The first gift he’d ever received, he had told them, with that oddly vulnerable expression they had never seen on him before. The first gift, and also the last.

… Or was it?

Beelzebub breathed in and then slowly out, staring at that single fly to keep themself grounded, to focus on the memory of Gabriel as they’d last seen him - whole and well, smiling at them before stepping in the elevator, rather than screaming in a column of hellfire.

Maybe they hadn’t destroyed him. Maybe there was another explanation; if other angels realized he was purposefully blocking Armageddon from taking place, he may very well have become a prisoner. If Beelzebub decided to lay waste on Heaven now, and he was there, he may be destroyed with all the rest. No, they could not act on impulse. They had to think he was still alive, and act accordingly. They had to find out what precisely had happened in Heaven, covertly. Sneakily. 

And they knew one demon with heavenly ties who was very, very good at sneaking around.

***

There are few places and moments in life, Crowley reasoned, when a swarm of flies manifesting out of thin air is convenient. Inside a Bentley which was currently speeding through an intersection while passing a school bus was neither one of those places, nor one of those moments.

“Been a long time, Crowley.”

“Oh, come o--!”

“Bus ahead.”

To his credit, Crowley managed to swerve around the bus in question despite the flies clouding his vision; by the time he shoved the Bentley in the first available empty space at the side of the road, cutting in front of three cars and a truck in the process, the flies had finished coming together and someone else sat in the car with him.

Someone Crowley had kind of hoped never to have to see again. “Lord Beelzebub. What do I owe the-- huh. New face?”

“New face,” was the response, in the tone of someone who’d really rather not waste another second talking about it. “I’m here to give you a new mission.”

Ah. “I’m fairly sure Shax said I’m still persona non grata in Hell.”

“You are. And you have the chance to change it. Actually, you have the chance to become a Duke of Hell.”

Crowley blinked, then slid the sunglasses down his nose for a better look at the Lord of the Flies. Maybe it was the new face, but they seemed animated in a way he had never seen before. They seemed worried, working their jaw and smoothing down their jacket in quick, nervous gestures before looking back at him. That in itself worried him in turn. If something was up causing such concern for Beelzebub of all demons, then everyone else probably would have good reason to be terrified. 

“That’s… flattering, but--”

“A full pardon. A place in the Dark Council. Whatever your nasty little heart desires, you shall have it.”

“Why turn to me--”

“To you, and your pet angel.”

There were several words Crowley may have used to describe Aziraphale, but pet was not about them. As he choked on his own spit, Beelzebub spoke again - louder, quicker, and more urgent. 

“Listen. You and the angel betrayed Hell and Heaven both solely to stop Armageddon. You don’t want to see your efforts go to waste, no? Because there is talk of starting it anew.”

“What-- without the Antichrist?”

“Without the Antichrist. Just plain war, no less devastating. Do you want to stop it or not?”

“I-- is that a trick question?”

“I don’t do trick questions. I want to enlist your help to find the archangel Gabriel, and keep Armageddon from coming to pass.”

As far as Crowley was concerned, Lord Beelzebub couldn’t have put together a more nonsensical string of words if they’d picked them at random from a dictionary and then put them through an online translator from English to Aramaic to Greek and then back to English. 

“... What?”

“You heard me.”

“You wanted to start the Armageddon--”

“My priorities have shifted, but I do believe yours have stayed the same. You want Earth to survive, I want to find Gabriel. Our goals conveniently coincide. What more do you need?”

“I am sorry. Are you actively trying to make as little sense as possible? Because--”

Beelzebub snarled, it was enough for him to fall silent. The Lord of the Flies took a moment to draw in a deep breath before they spoke again, with forced calm. “I will explain everything to you and the angel. Take me to him.”

“No.”

“... I’m going to pretend I have not heard and give you one more chance to--”

“No demon but me is crossing that bookshop’s threshold.”

Some furious buzzing, and Crowley gripped the wheel tighter, waiting for severe pain, but it never came. Instead, Beelzebub just ground their teeth. “I have no interest in harming him.”

“Given the precedents, you’ll forgive me for being cautious,” Crowley replied. He fully expected fury, truth be told, but was once again surprised. Lord Beelzebub seemed to hesitate a moment, and finally nodded.

“... Very well. I forgive nothing, but I understand. Tell him we’ll meet on neutral ground.”

“Riiiiight. Well, I’ll see when he’s free and ask him--”

“Call him now,” Beelzebub cut him off, and looked him in the eye. “If you want your precious Earth to survive, you’ll waste no further time.”

In the end, he didn’t waste any time. Honestly, it didn’t feel like he had that much of a choice.

***

There was something up there. 

Jibreel noticed it while leaning back on the chair, careful not to put his feet up on the desk because Muriel had said he shouldn’t do it. They weren't there now - they’d left saying they wanted to look at something in the archives, and reassuring him he was ready to handle any work that came through - but he wouldn’t do something they didn’t want him to. They had been really nice to him.

But he was bored, just sitting there on his own, so he’d slumped back and looked up - and there it was. A… well, he wasn’t sure. It was something that moved in quick circles above him, small and dark as everything else was white and vast. He frowned a little and, without thinking, held up a hand.

There was no real reason why the thing should come to him, but it did. It floated down to rest on the tip of his fingers, buzzing softly, and Jibreel brought it closer to his face to have a look. It was a… what was the name? A fly, right? Yes, he was almost sure that was it. Funny, that. He didn’t think there were any flies in Heaven. They usually were on Earth, or at least he guessed so. He had never been on Earth, as far as he could recall - which to be fair wasn’t long. But somehow, he knew flies were not supposed to be there. 

Hell, maybe - were there flies in Hell? Yes, somehow Jibreel was fairly sure that there were a lot of flies in Hell, too. He had definitely never been there himself, though.

The fly on his fingers buzzed, but didn’t fly off, and Jibreel found himself smiling at it. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, but of course there was no response other than more soft buzzing. It was kind of cute, seen up close. Jibreel smiled again. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know. But I won’t tell. It will be our secret and all,” he added, feeling rather giddy at the idea of having something as forbidden as a secret. He winked at the fly, which didn’t bother to wink back before taking flight again. But it stayed right above him, and Jibreel was absurdly certain it was not going to leave. 

For some reason, it put an even wider smile on his face. He leaned back on the seat and kept following the fly with his gaze, unblinking and unthinking, until he found himself humming, tapping a foot on the floor. 

“Everyday, it’s-a getting closer…”

***

A good cup of tea, Aziraphale firmly believed, could smooth over just about any type of crisis. Or at least make it feel like less of a crisis. Failing that, hot chocolate would usually succeed. 

However, he recognized that there were few, particularly dire instances in which neither tea nor hot chocolate could help. In such cases, coffee would be needed - possibly with a good dollop of something sweet added to it. 

Only after sitting down next to Crowley at Nina’s coffee shop, the records Maggie had given him under his arm and Crowley as well as the literal Lord of the Flies sitting across them, did he wonder about the wisdom of giving Beelzebub caffeine. But as they never so much as touched the cup, he supposed he would never find out whether it was a mistake. That, and soon enough the theoretical effect of caffeine on hellish royalty was the least of his worries. 

“Heaven and Hell want to push ahead with Armageddon - again - and you and Gabriel wanted to stop it?”

“Yes,” Beelzebub replied, and silenced the question that followed with a gesture. “We changed our mind. The reason why is none of your concern, before you ask, but I do believe our goals align and--”

“And now he’s missing and his seat is vacant?” Aziraphale cut them off, bewildered. That gained him a markedly unimpressed look. 

“... Is there a specific reason why you’re repeating everything I have told you so far?”

“It’s a lot to wrap one’s mind around, I’m sure you can agree?” Crowley spoke, the casual leaning in his seat doing very little to hide how tense it was. “You and Gabriel both tried really hard to make Armageddon happen. When it didn’t, and decided it was our fault, you sort of tried just as hard to destroy us.”

Beelzebub had the good sense to look… if certainly not awkward, at least a little tense themself. Aziraphale set his jaw, not about to say anything to smooth things over now; he had never forgotten the casual order the Lord of the Flies had given to have a bystander demon destroyed in holy water solely to test it, nor the indifference when they had sentenced Crowley to die the same gruesome way. It was nothing he had not expected from Hell, truth be told, but it had been rather upsetting. 

On his end, Crowley had never quite told him the details of the attempt at carrying out the same sentence in Heaven; only that he had been told to step in hellfire and had surprised the archangels present by breathing a little bit of it in their direction, which had been a rather amusing mental image. 

“Well. You were not destroyed, and you don’t wish Earth to be either. It is in everyone’s best interest if we collaborate. And by everyone’s, I mean that of all sitting at this table.”

“Are we supposed to believe that you’ve grown a soft spot for Earth?”

A scoff. “Obviously not. This is not about Earth. It’s what you care about.”

“What is it about for you, then?”

For the first time since that odd meeting had started, Lord Beelzebub seemed to hesitate. They worked their jaw briefly, clearly debating whether or not they should be truthful. It was an odd inner conflict to see play out on a being Aziraphale had always known as a powerful but distant foe, but it did not last long. Beelzebub seemed to come to a decision and leaned forward, elbows on the table. 

“For me, it’s about Gabriel. They did something to him. I am sure they did.”

“Seems likely,” Crowley muttered, not really distraught. “Still don’t get what that’s to y--”

“I want him back,” Beelzebub cut him off. The last word of Crowley’s sentence - you - turned into a choked out ‘uuuh?’ before he fell silent, staring at the Lord of the Flies with his mouth hanging open. It gained him a raised eyebrow. “Close that mouth before flies get in it. That is a threat.”

Crowley closed his mouth so abruptly his teeth clicked together, then hurriedly took a sip from his coffee. As for Aziraphale, he found himself staring with wide eyes as realization dawned on him. Beelzebub had a soft spot all right, but not for Earth. It was for Gabriel.

That was not what he’d expected to hear, although to be fair he was not sure what he’d even thought this could be about. In retrospect, everything in Beelzebub’s behavior seemed to scream a connection to the missing archangel that went well beyond a professional relationship. In the end, he cleared his throat and took a sip from his coffee.

“Not to pry, but I seem to understand yourself and Gabriel have grown, um. Close?”

“In a way neither Heaven nor Hell would approve, hence why I had to turn to you.” A long look, their gaze shifting from his to Crowley and then back, and they cocked their head. “Certainly, I don’t need to explain more. It’s not something unfamiliar to the two of you.”

The coffee Crowley had been sipping was promptly sprayed back inside the mug. Aziraphale nearly spilled in own mug, stammering. 

“I, I mean-- we do go way back, so I suppose-- we have an understanding, but--”

Beelzebub silenced him with a gesture. “I don’t care to hear it. All I care about is finding out where Gabriel is and what was done to him, and taking him back. Help me, and I’ll hold off Armageddon until a more permanent solution to avoid it is found. Do we have a deal?”

A pause, a quick glance between the two of them. 

Do we have a choice?, Aziraphale’s look said.

Not really, Crowley’s replied, and that was that.

***

“Oh, I really shouldn't have even come here…”

No one was there to hear Muriel’s anxious whine, but they slapped both hands over their mouth anyway, just in case. Not that they were doing anything forbidden, per se - they were authorized to search the archive, after all - but it still seemed wrong, to have doubts over the word of an archangel. It wasn’t even real doubts, they just had… questions. 

One big question, really - why did Jibreel remember nothing from his existence before he’d been taken to work with them as a junior recording angel? It had been bothering them more than it probably should, and they had considered asking someone higher up, but… well. Surely they had better things to do than answering a silly question, no? It was probably nothing important, they’d thought. 

They could find out on their own, sate their curiosity and then be back. 

Except that things had taken an unexpected turn, because they had found a folder marked with his name - Jibreel - but it really wasn’t like they had expected. A junior recording angel’s folder is never very full, simply because… well, there is not a lot to record about those working on records, so to speak. It was a fairly uneventful job and it made for an uneventful eternity, overall. Muriel’s own folder had only about two pages to it. 

Jibreel’s folder was nothing like that. It didn’t look thicker than normal, but as they picked it up there was a weight to it that told them it was much, much fuller than their own. Much fuller than any other folder they’d handled, really - there had to be a lot in there.

And, they soon realized, they couldn’t open it. It was classified, and required a much higher clearance - like a throne or a dominion, or something even above that. 

They wouldn’t classify the folder of a simple junior recording angel, would they? Not with such high clearance. There is a lot more to Jibreel than even he knows.

It was a rather baffling development, and more than a little intimidating, really. Muriel didn’t know what it was all about and to be honest, they really wished she hadn’t wondered in the first place. It was much too above them. Surely, if Jibreel did not recall his past, there was a good reason for it. Who were they to question the decisions of archangels?

They would just walk out, go back to their station, and never utter a word of this to anyone - much less to Jibreel. After all, he’d never asked them to look anything up; he’d never asked a thing, and he was happy as a clam.

Muriel saw no reason to open their mouth and risk changing that.

***

[Back to Prologue]

[On to Chapter 2]

#good omens 2 #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #aziraphale #crowley #muriel #go2 spoilers #gos2 spoilers #come what may

[thegirlfromhawkins]

Someday. Today? (Fem! Reader)

i’m alive! i don’t know why i feel like i’ve been gone but i’m here! hello i hope you’re having a lovely day enjoy this sweet fic i wrote. friendly reminder my requests are open and so are my messages if u just wanna say hi! :)

The ONE time you don’t use protection anxiety ensues

One week.

One whole week and nothing.

You knew that you both tried your best with protection but the ONE time you don’t and here you are. Sitting anxiously on Eddie’s bed waiting for him to prance through the door and give you all the love and affection he does while you were about to lose your shit.

The thought of having a child now. With Eddie. Oh god, that boy has so much life to live before having a child with you.

It’s not that you were scared to tell him. No, you weren’t, it’s just that every day for the past week you’ve been pleading with the universe to just let you know you weren’t pregnant. All these thoughts of what could be and the derailing of your future plans were plaguing your mind. Now with it being a whole week, you had to tell him. If anything you were going to make him feel as anxious as you are because this didn’t just happen by yourself after all.

The thoughts are confusing at times. Sometimes you get this overwhelming feeling of excitement if you did happen to be pregnant. Visions of a little Eddie and you in your arms and picturing Eddie with a baby made your heart swoon. Then came the realization of how drastically that would complicate things. Eddie was going to graduate and you were planning on leaving Hawkins together to go make a new life with him working on his music and you being his number one fan the whole way. You couldn’t take Eddie’s dreams away from him and that’s what it felt like would happen if you had a baby right now. Tears are beginning to form from all these emotions and Eddie should be home any minute now.

‘Dear god why now?’ you plead in your head looking at the ceiling trying to subside the tears.

Of course, that’s when the door swings open,” Hey baby!”

Eddie runs up to you and wraps you in a tight hug, lifting you off the bed and making you laugh at his excitement of only your presence,” Hello to you too, Mr. Munson.”

“How is my favorite girl doing today?”, he asks as he moves to take his jacket off throwing it on the ground then proceeding to crawl on the bed now laying in front of you. His messy hair and the way he’s resting his head in his hands make you smile. Oh boy, he has no idea about the bombshell you’re about to drop.

“Um, well I’m alright. I just kinda have some stuff on my mind right now.”

“Hit me with it, darling. I’m all ears.”

He intently watches your every move making you feel even more anxious and words are beginning to jumble in your mind as you try to think of what exactly to say until,” I’m late!”, you yell then frantically cover your face hiding behind your knees now raised in front of your face.

Eddie is completely lost,” Late? For what? Do you need a ride somewhere?”

Everything seems to explode inside you at once as you begin laughing and crying at his reply. This is a great cause of concern for Eddie and his eyes go wide as he goes to hug you right away. It takes a minute or two to calm down from your laughter and tears because how else did you think Eddie was going to reply to that?

“No Eddie, I’m late for my period,” you finally say calmly and his eyes continue to go wide,” Like a whole week late.”

You can tell Eddie is thinking by his eyebrows furrowing and he’s definitely trying not to say something stupid like he did a minute ago,” Does that mean you’re?”

His big brown eyes look to your stomach and then back to you and he can’t help but place his hand on your belly. Eddie wanted to have kids, especially with you but this news was all so shocking to him. Instantly he’s questioning if he would even be a good father but the thought of you, him, and a little being to love made him happy inside.

“I’m not sure yet. I haven’t taken a test. I just wanted to tell you before I did.”

“Do you have one?”

Shit, that’s what you forgot to pick up at the store. I mean it’s not on your normal weekly list so it’s understandable that you forgot,” I forgot to”.

Eddie begins standing up to grab his jacket and before you could even ask what he was doing he simply says,” I’ll go get one.”

With his kiss goodbye there you were again waiting. You couldn’t quite calculate how he felt about this. He seemed surprised but calm. Thank god he was the calm one for once in this situation. Or at least that’s how he’s presenting himself to you.

Meanwhile, Eddie hops into the van driving off to get a pregnancy test. A damn pregnancy test. He truly can’t believe it and the memories of you and him talking about your future came back to him. Three kids. You both wanted three little ones someday. Someday. But Today?

It takes him a while to find what exactly he’s looking for and luckily a nice older lady helped him out with what to buy. Sure he may have gone a bit overboard with five tests but you never know. He even took time to pick out your favorite snacks so whatever would happen you’d have munchies for the night. Practically racing home he pulls up and slams the door carrying the bags in his ring-clad hands.

The moment the trailer door opened you were there standing up waiting for the test to decide the fate of the rest of your lives. Eddie begins laying everything out over his bed showing you what snacks he bought and the different tests. Here the tears come again and you stop him mid-sentence to wrap him in a hug letting a few tears fall onto the jean vest he so adored.

“Hey, no matter what that piece of plastic says I’m still going to be here.”

Looking into his eyes you nod not trusting words to come out properly. You grab a few tests and go to the bathroom. Eddie waits for you in his room trying to stay calm and figure out what he’d do if a little Munson was on the way. God, and he just knows you’d make the perfect mom. Hell, you were always taking care of him and the rest of Hellfire it’s like you’re already in training for it.

The minutes pass like hours as you sit on the floor waiting for the results. When those three minutes go up you are almost too scared to look. However, now is not the time for procrastinating. Taking a deep breath you open your eyes to look at the tests.

Exiting the bathroom you walk into Eddie’s room holding them in your hands. Eddie sits up from the bed looking at you waiting for any answer. It’s silent for a minute before you shake your head and let out a small no.

The weight feels like it’s been taken off both of your shoulders. Eddie walks over to you giving you another hug. This one is so full of comfort though. You believed that what he said about staying regardless was true. How could it not be with the feeling of him shielding the whole world from you when you were in his arms?

“Someday.” he smiles running his fingers through your hair now looking down into your eyes.

“Someday,” you reply followed by his sweet kiss on your lips,” Not today.”

#eddie cult #joseph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanon #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #joseph quinn imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson angst #joseph quinn headcanons #joseph quinn fluff #st4 #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson smut #eddie munson masterlist

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi there! I um…

okay this is like, unbelievably awkward for me but I’m in a catholic school for Highschool which means catholic sex ed and I’m not totally down for that so here are my questions because I have no clue about anything and I’m fifteen and idk why I’m telling you all of this I’m word vomiting and I’m so so sorry.

okay so um. I think I might be ace because I have no interest in having sex and to test that theory I read some novels featuring sex scenes and I did. Y’know, feel something, but like, Idk how to do the pleasuring yourself thing. And um. I was wondering if you had any tips on that that can be done without the use of purchased products or putting anything up there and oh my god this is so awkward I’m so sorry I love your blog and it’s been incredibly educational for me so thank you and im rambling again.

anyways also my period is like, a month and a half late and I’ve never had sex so I can’t be pregnant so any tips about that bc idk if it’s the lack of proper food water and sleep or if I’ve fucked something up internally when I tried to test my ace theory.

super sorry for the incredibly awkward ask I just don’t have anyone to ask irl and… y’know imma just send this. I am so sorry. Thank you for your time and I’m so sorry again.

hey anon,

thanks for sending this ask; I'm glad you did. my best friend's first college boyfriend also got a catholic sex education and he once sincerely asked her if she wanted to use shampoo as lubricant for shower sex, so I feel like I have a pretty good frame of reference for how little information you're working with here.

to your most pressing question: the great news is that it's extremely easy to masturbate without a toy or penetration; you can just start touching stuff in absolutely whatever way feels good to you! if you'd like some tips, I'd recommend starting with this video from sexologist Lindsey Doe and checking out more on her Sexplanations channel if it feels helpful - she's made quite a few videos covering masturbation!

(despite the age restriction, this is actually a very tame video that consists entirely of a very kind, fully-clothed woman cheerfully offering some advice on jacking off.)

there are a lot of reasons your period might be late, but reading a sexy book and masturbating isn't one of them. the only POSSIBLE way you could alter your period by masturbating would be if you caused some kind of internal damage, in which case you would probably know and hopefully be receiving urgent care. having irregular periods is pretty normal when you're young, although they can also be caused by stress, hormonal fluctuations, medications, excess exercise, and insufficient nourishment. many possible causes, but arousal is not one of them!

and circling back to the start of your ask, you absolutely can be ace and still enjoy reading sexy scenes and masturbating. tons of asexual people do! you can be ace and explore your own sexuality as much as you want. you don't need permission but I am giving it to you.

#sex edventures 2023